Fletcher, Phineas · published 1631 · first performed or written 1615 [Mar 13] (Annals) pastoral · at University T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint typicality 0.78 · 505 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
If I could scold, sir you might be chidden, For coming to my thoughts before y'are bidden. Blame me not (Sweet) thy words do fan thy fires, And cool the flames which thy fair eye inspires. The fire so lately applied, so lately framed? methinks, green wood should not be yet inflamed. love's flame is not like earth's, but heaven's fire, Like lightning, with a flash it lights desire. I love not lightning: lightning love that flashes Before't be all on fire, will be all ashes. Gather the fruit than while 'tis yet unblasted. Is't worth the gathering? is it pleasing tasted? Take say of this. Monster? Help ho. The do was almost struck, 'twas time I came, For once I'll be a keeper of the game. I see 'tis Owl-light, Minerva's waggoner, My old rival, who this twenty years Saw nothing but what shined through glass windows, What comes he for? I'll stay a while and watch him. Most happy age that shall be crowned with love Of thy love, Cosma: I am not as I seem, Farewell old age, I now am young again And feel not ages, but a lover's pain, In love I dare adventure with the best, Old beaten soldiers are the worthiest: If all my rivals heard I could dare them, If furies should outfront me, I'd outstare them. How well my Mistress Cosma's clothes do fit me? What pity 'twas, I was not made a woman? I think I should have made a pretty Nymph: ha? I could have been a pitiful creature, And yet perhaps, a good unhappy wench. Cosma by this hath met with her Armillus And sports herself: could I meet Fredocaldo, I should have sport enough: What Fredocaldo dead? courage, man. I had a fearful dream and scarce am waken. Come shake off dreams, sleep is not fit for lovers, we'll to the rocky cave. My sun? my fire? But Fredocaldo, can you think that fire Can love cold water, the sun can frost desire? I tell thee fairest Cosma, those fair eyes Bring back my spring: Wrong not thyself, dear love, so fair a day Cannot but make midwinter turn to May. Cold rheums I feel not, no frost's locked in this chest Thy love begets a summer in my breast. Fie Fredocaldo: Not in the open air. Wha furies haunt this groue? is not this Cosma? Yes: here again she comes most blessed heavens, I see that ye are more gracious then Hell's spiteful. Cosma? Armillus. My love. Sure thou hast done some cruel murder, And the unexpiate ghost thus haunts thee. I never thought it, Cosma: rather some power of these woods, Too envious of my good hap, and jealous of thy favour, Thus crosses our desires but if again He chance to interpose his horrid face, I'll rather die, then leave thy wished embrace. All hell and furies haunt us. Well overtaken, Nymph, start not, you are sure, See I am your familiar. Beshrew your heart for thus affrighting me.
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: T3 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
If I could scold, sir you might be chidden, For comming to my thoughts before y'are bidden. Blame me not (Sweet) thy words do fanne thy fires, And coole the flames which thy faire eye inspires. The fire so lately applied, so lately fram'd? Me thinks, greene wood should not be yet inflam'd. Loues flame is not like earths, but heauens fire, Like lightning, with a flash it lights desire. I loue not lightning: lightning loue that flashes Before't be all on fire, will be all ashes. Gather the fruite then while 'tis yet vnblased. Ist worth the gathering? is it pleasing tasted? Take say f this. Monster? Helpe ho. The Doe was almost strooke, 'twas time I came, For once I'le be a keeper of the game. I see 'tis Owle-light, Mineruaes waggoner, My old riuall, who this twenty yeeres Saw nothing but what shin'd through glase windowes, What comes he for? I'le stay a while and watch him. Most happy age that shall be crownd with loue Of thy loue, Cosma: I am not as I seeme, Farewell old age, I now am young againe And feele not ages, but a louers paine, In loue I dare aduenture with the best, Old beaten souldiers are the worthiest: If all my riualls heard I could dare them, If uries should out-front me, I'de out-stare them. How well my Mistris Cosmaes clothes do fit me? What pitty 'twas, I was not made a woman? I thinke should haue made a pretty Nymph: ha? I could haue beene a pittifull creature, And yet perhaps, a good vnhappy wench. Cosma by this hath met with her Armillus And sports her selfe: could I meete Fredocaldo, I should haue sport enough: What Fredocaldo dead? couage, man. I had a fearefull dreame and scarce am waken. Come shake off dreames, sleepe is not fit for louers, Wee'l to the rocky caue. My sunne? my fire? But Fredocaldo, can you thinke that fire Can loue cold water, the sunne can frost desire? I tell thee fairest Cosma, those faire eyes Bring backe my spring: Wrong not thy selfe, deare loue, so faire a day Cannot but make mid-winter turne to May. Cold rhewms I feele not, no frost's lockt in this chest Thy loue begets a summer in my brest. Fie Fredocaldo: Not in the open aire. Wha furies haunt this groue? is not this Cosma? Yes: here again she comes most blessed heauens, I see that yee are more gracious then Hell's spightfull. Cosma? Armillus. My loue. Sure thou hast done some cruell murder, And the vnexplate ghost thus haunts thee. I neuer thought it, Cosma: rather some power of these woods, Too enuious of my good hap, and ieaous of thy fauor, Thus crosses our desires but if againe He chance to interpose his horrid face, I'le rather dye, then leaue thy wisht embrace. All hell and furies haunt vs. Well ouertaken, Nimph, start not, you are sure, Se I am your familiar. Beshrew your heart for thus affrighting me.