Hausted, Peter · published 1632 · first performed or written 1632 [Mar 19] (Annals) comedy · before the Court unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
There's not a solitary walk, nor Grove Wherein a Lover may retire himself Free from the eyes of the profane people, But I have traversed o'er to find my Master; I have not left a Spring unquestioned, Or any spreading Oak, whose quavering top Is but half Phoebus proof, nor can I hear Ought of Neander his companion. Pandora, this same Boy was sent on purpose Unto this place by some kind Nymph or other Inhabiting these Woods in mere compassion Of thee and of thy miseries; we could not Have studied for a better Stale than this: Prepare yourself to feign a love unto him. But see Placenta, and my Master's Love, I will inquire of them. Endymion All happiness. As much to you Placenta. And what to me? What you deserve fair Lady, Which is above my wishes. But Endymion, Prithee sweet Lad, let me entreat a courtesy, What Countryman are you? What Countryman? An English man I take it. An English man? I rather think thou art a Russian Thou carriest such a Winter in thy breast. How canst thou suffer such a winning beauty To stand neglected? without a salutation? Go to, you shamefaced fool, go kiss her, go. How kiss her? it does not become a servant To be so saucy with his Master's Love. It rather not becomes Endymion, A Youth of that same mould and symmetry To be so bashful 'fore a Gentlewoman: As for thy Master I disclaim his love As one unworthy. How? disclaim his love? And with his love, all the whole world of men, Except' be thee my soul: why fliest thou me? Come on, Come on you little frozen-nothing, I think we must be fain to make you take Your love potion in a horn, you are so skittish. Nay but Placenta.— O most redolent! Aurora's spiced bed is not more sweet, Not all the odours of the early East. You do but mock me. How? but mock thee sweet? By all the Cupids in thy face, I love thee Beyond th' expression of a woman's tongue. This was that simple one that could not counterfeit. By this same nest of kisses I protest— What wouldst thou more? More of your protestations. But canst thou love me then? Indeed fair Lady I do not know, I am but newly entered Into this loving trade. You are a Wag: Take her by th' hand and strain it gently, so.— Now kiss her fan and sigh.— Good, excellent. (Well I have seen some Gallants in my days, Though 'twas my fortune to be married, To that same lob my husband, but no matter;) Fie on this modesty, 'tis out of fashion, Give her a green gown quickly, she will thank you. Will not as much satin of the same colour To make her one do as well? Come, you're a fool; Down with her, she will discard you else, As bashful, and unfit for lady's service.—
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
There's not a ſolitary walke, nor Groue Wherein a Louer may retire himſelfe Free from the eyes of the prophaner people, But I haue trauers'd o're to finde my Maſter; I haue not left a Spring vnqueſtioned, Or any ſpreading Oake, whole quauering toppe Is but halfe Phoebus proofe, nor can I heare Ought of Neander his companion. Pandora, this ſame Boy was ſent on purpoſe Vnto this place by ſome kinde Nymph or other Inhabiting theſe Woods in meere compaſſion Of thee and of thy miſeries; wee could not Haue ſtudied for a better Stale then this: Prepare your ſelfe to faine a loue vnto him. But ſee Placenta, and my Maſters Loue, I will enquire of them. Endymion All happineſſe. As much to you Placenta. And what to me? What you deſerue faire Lady, Which is aboue my wiſhes. But Endymion, Pri'thee ſweet Lad, let mee entreat a courteſie, What Country-man are you? What Country-man? An Engliſh man I take it. An Engliſh man? I rather thinke thou art a Ruſſian Thou carryeſt ſuch a Winter in thy breaſt. How canſt thou ſuffer ſuch a winning beauty To ſtand neglected? without a ſalutation? Goe to, you ſhame-fac'd foole, goe kiſſe her, goe. How kiſſe her? it does not become a ſeruant To be ſo ſawcie with his Maſters Loue. It rather not becomes Endymion, A Youth of that ſame molde and ſymetry To be ſo baſhfull 'fore a Gentlewoman: As for thy Maſter I diſclaime his loue As one vnworthy. How? diſclaime his loue? And with his loue, all the whole world of men, Except 'be thee my ſoule: why flyeſt thou mee? Come on, Come on you little frozen-nothing, I thinke wee muſt be fayne to make you take Your loue potion in a horne, you are ſo skittiſh. Nay but Placenta.— O moſt redolent! Aurora's ſpiced bed is not more ſweet, Not all the odours of the early Eaſt. You do but mock me. How? but mock thee ſweet? By all the Cupids in thy face, I loue thee Beyond th' expreſſion of a womans tongue. This was that ſimple one that could not counterfeit. By this ſame neſt of kiſſes I proteſt— What would'ſt thou more? More of your proteſtations. But canſt thou loue me then? Indeed faire Lady I doe not know, I am but newly enter'd Into this louing trade. You are a Wagge: Take her by th' hand and ſtreine it gently, ſo. — Now kiſſe her fanne and ſigh. — Good, excellent. (Well I haue ſeene ſome Gallants in my dayes, Though 'twas my fortune to be married, To that ſame lob my husband, but no matter;) Fy on this modeſty, 'tis out of faſhion, Giue her a greene gowne quickly, ſhee will thanke you. Will not as much ſattin of the ſame colour To make her one doe as well? Come, you'r a foole; Downe with her, ſhee will diſcard you elſe, As baſhfull, and vnfit for Ladies ſeruice.—