Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T22: shepherd, pan, shepherds, love, sheep, flocks, fair, shepherdess, swain, away.
Upon this shady bank with laurels crowned, The gentle Shepherd Rhodon dwells: His Cottage seated is upon a Crystal River, The sweetest stream that e'er in valley crept. Two precious presents I to him must bear: The one from his true love, the beauteous Iris, And that's a gem of admirable virtue; The bounty of the Eastern mines could ne'er bestow A jewel of such worth as this, Which from the entrails of a Cock was ripped; For whosoever shall possess the same, Shall be invincible in fight. But his dear Sister, lovely Violetta, Commends to him this admirable plant, The noblest herb that e'er in garden grew. For, setting many precious properties aside, It is the best and strongest antidote That Art or Nature ever made. No deadly poison can withstand its power, But is expulsed by it with great facility. These noble gifts beseeming well Both the receivers and the giver's qualities, I will deliver to the honoured Swain. SAge Dame, how fares thy grand design? Dost think thy plot will take? Nay, if you doubt it, I wish it ne'er might take. Have I made hell a party in the action, And laid such snares, that more than humane force Cannot withstand my well knit stratagem; Yet will you still torment me with these doubts? Nay gentle mother, be not so impatient. You tempt my patience, while you thus mistrust My skill and my ability. We do adore thy matchless skill and wisdom, Thou grace and wonder of thy sex. methinks I see the merry Post at hand, That brings us joyful news of Rhodons death: And not behind him much methinks I see Another Post, who comes with better news, That Rhodons army is discouraged and discarded, Yea quite disbanded and dispersed. Oh happy news (divine Poneria) Yet ye account me a mere silly Dame, Yea as silly as some simple simpering Citizen. That hath but manners enough to take The upper end of a Table at a feast, And to carve a capon's leg to a Coxcomb. The en Sybils were no more comparable to thee, Than an old Gentlewoman is to a young Chambermaid. Sweet Poneria, I am even in love with thee: Yea, I durst almost swear I should kiss thee, If thou hadst but three rotten teeth in thy head. Well, my Masters, I hope you'll thank me When you hear that I have made proud Rhodon A Legier Ambassador in Don Pluto's Court. Thy thanks, Poneria, shall be duly paid In eye bewitching talents; we'll rip the matrice of our grandam earth To see the place where riches are conceived; And from her pregnant womb we'll draw A golden age for thee to live in (Dear Poneria) Who would leave any villainy undone, To be thy slave, most noble Martagon. Now Martagon let us go put on arms, And toward Hybla march in strong array. Let us deface the glory of their flowers, If Rhodon be but dead, the day is ours.
nodes 1399–1465 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 22 of 27 in this edition
Length
501 words · 657 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T22 — Shepherds, flocks and Pancross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.782 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T24 · seed 44: T25 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
VPon this shady banke with laurels crown'd, The gentle Shepheard Rhodon dwels: His Cottage seated is upon a Cristall River, The sweetest streame that e're in valley crept. Two pretious presents I to him must beare: The one from his true love, the beaut'ous Iris, And that's a gemme of admirable vertue; The bounty of the Easterne mines could ne're bestow A Iewell of such worth as this, Which from the entrailes of a Cocke was ripp'd; For whosoever shall possesse the same, Shall be invincible in fight. But his deare Sister, lovely Violetta, Commends to him this admirable plant, The noblest herbe that e're in garden grew. For, setting many pretious properties aside, It is the best and strongest antidote That Art or Nature ever made. No deadly poyson can withstand its power, But is expulst by it with great facility. These noble gifts beseeming well Both the receivers and the givers qualities, I will deliver to the honour'd Swaine. SAge Dame, how fares thy grand designe? Dost thinke thy plot will take? Nay, if you doubt it, I wish it nere might take. Have I made hell a partie in the action, And laid such snares, that more then humane force Cannot withstand my well knit stratagem; Yet will you still torment me with these doubts? Nay gentle mother, be not so impatient. You tempt my patience, while you thus mistrust My skill and my ability. We doe adore thy matchlesse skill and wisdome, Thou grace and wonder of thy sexe. Me thinkes I see the merry Post at hand, That brings us joyfull newes of Rhodons death: And not behinde him much me thinkes I see Another Post, who comes with better newes, That Rhodons army is discourag'd and discarded, Yea quite disbanded and disperst. Oh happy newes (divine Poneria) Yet ye account me a meere silly Dame, Yea as silly as some simple simpering Citizen. That hath but manners enough to take The upper end of a Table at a feast, And to carve a Capons legge to a Coxcombe. The en Sybils were no more comparable to thee, Than an old Gentlewoman is to a yong Chambermaid. Sweet Poneria, I am even in love with thee: Yea, I durst almost sweare I should kisse thee, If thou had'st but three rotten teeth in thy head. Well, my Masters, I hope you'll thanke me When you heare that I have made proud Rhodon A Legier Embassadour in Don Pluto's Court. Thy thankes, Poneria, shall be duly paid In eye bewitching talents; Wee'll rip the matrice of our grandam earth To see the place where riches are conceiv'd; And from her pregnant wombe we'll draw A golden age for thee to live in (Deare Poneria) Who would leave any villany undone, To be thy slave, most noble Martagon. Now Martagon let us goe put on armes, And toward Hybla march in strong aray. Let us deface the glory of their flowers, If Rhodon be but dead, the day is ours.