Randolph, Thomas · published 1632 · first performed or written 1632 [Mar 20] (Annals) comedy · before the Court unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
WAit till we call. Heaven, if thou hast not emptied all thy treasury Of wrath upon me; here I challenge thee To lay on more. What torments hast thou left, In which thou hast not exercised my patience? Yet cast up all th' accounts of all my sorrows, And the whole sum is trebled in the loss Of dear Techmessa. If this grief were real! Be not too credulous. I have stood the rest Of your afflictions, with this one I fell, Fell like a rock that had repelled the rage Of thousand violent billows, and withstood Their fierce assaults, until the working Tide Had undermined him: than he falls, and draws Part of the mountain with him. Pamphilus, When did you see my sweetheart? prithee tell me, Is he not gone a-Maying?— he will bring me Some pinks and daisies home tomorrow morning. Pray heaven he meet no thieves. Alas Evadne! Thy Tyndarus is dead. What shall I do? I cannot live without him. I am moved: Yet I will make this trial full and perfect. What, at this dismal hour, when nothing walks But souls tormented, calls you from your sheets To visit our dark cells, inhabited By death and melancholy? I am come To seek my true-love here. Did you not see him? He's come to dwell with you, pray use him well, He was a proper Gentleman. Sir, what cause Enforced you hither? I am come to pay The tribute of my eyes to a dead Love. Fair Lady, may I ask one question of you? Did you admit no love into your bosom But only his? Alas! you make me weep. Could any woman love a man, but him! No Tyndarus, I will not long outlive thee: We will be married in Elysium, And arm in arm walk through th'blessed groves, And change a thousand kisses,— you shan't see us. I know not whether it be joy or grief Forces tears from me. Were you constant, Sir, To her whose death you now so much lament? For by those prodigies and apparitions That have tonight shaked the foundations Of the whole temple, your inconstancy Hath caused your Mistress's untimely end. The Sun shall change his course, and find new paths To drive his chariot in: The Loadstone leave His faith unto the North:— The Vine withdraw Those strict embraces that enfold the Elm In her kind arms:— But, if I change my love From my Techmessa, may I be recorded To all posterity, Loves great Apostate In Cupid's annals. If you see my Tyndarus, Pray tell him I will make all haste to meet him. I will but weep a while first. Pretty sorrow! Sir, you may veil your falsehood in smooth language, And gild it o'er with fair hypocrisy: But here has been such groans: Ghosts that have cried In hollow voices, Pamphilus, O false Pamphilus! Revenge on Pamphilus! Such complaints as these The gods ne'er make in vain.
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)
VVAit till we call. Heaven, if thou hast not emptied all thy treasury Of wrath upon me; here I challenge thee To lay on more. What torments hast thou left, In which thou hast not exercis'd my patience? Yet cast up all th' accounts of all my sorrows, And the whole summe is trebled in the losse Of deare Techmessa. If this grief were reall! Be not too credulous. I have stood the rest Of your afflictions, with this one I fell, Fell like a rock that had repell'd the rage Of thousand violent billows, and withstood Their fierce assaults, untill the working Tide Had undermin'd him: then he falls, and draws Part of the mountain with him. Pamphilus, When did you see my sweet-heart? prithee tell me, Is he not gone a maying?—he will bring me Some pincks and daysies home to morrow morning. Pray heaven he meet no theeves. Alas Evadne! Thy Tyndarus is dead. What shall I do? I cannot live without him. I am mov'd: Yet I will make this triall full and perfect. What, at this dismall houre, when nothing walks But souls tormented, calls you from your sheets To visit our dark cells, inhabited By death and melancholy? I am come To seek my true-love here. Did you not see him? He's come to dwell with you, pray use him well, He was a proper Gentleman. Sir, what cause Inforc'd you hither? I am come to pay The tribute of my eyes to a dead Love. Fair Lady, may I ask one question of you? Did you admit no love into your bosome But onely his? Alas! you make me weep. Could any woman love a man, but him! No Tyndarus, I will not long outlive thee: We will be married in Elysium, And arm in arm walk through th'-blessed groves, And change a thousand kisses,—you sha'nt see us. I know not whether it be joy or grief Forces teares from me. Were you constant, Sir, To her whose death you now so much lament? For by those prodigies and apparitions That have to night shak'd the foundations Of the whole temple, your inconstancy Hath caus'd your Mistresses untimely end. The Sunne shall change his course, and finde new paths To drive his chariot in: The Load-stone leave His faith unto the North:—The Vine withdraw Those strict embraces that infold the Elme In her kinde arms:—But, if I change my love From my Techmessa, may I be recorded To all posterity, Loves great Apostate In Cupids annalls. If you see my Tyndarus, Pray tell him I will make all haste to meet him. I will but weep a while first. Pretie sorrow! Sir, you may veil your falshood in smooth language, And gild it o're with fair hypocrisie: But here has been such grones: Ghosts that have cried In hollow voices, Pamphilus, O false Pamphilus! Revenge on Pamphilus! Such complaints as these The gods ne're make in vain.