The Contention for Honor and Riches · chunk 5 of 11
Shirley, James · published 1633 · first performed or written 1631 [c.1625-1632; adapted 1658] (Annals) moral unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 522 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Bless me but with one smile if you did know With what devotion my soul looks on you, How next to my religion I have placed, If not above How long since I first vowed myself your captive, That eye would dain some I have No stock of soft and melting words to charm you, Such silken language we are strangers to, We are used to other Dialect, and imitate the Drum, Bold Artillery: can you love me? When I have marched upon the dreadful Cannon, My heart was fixed on Honour nor could death In all her shapes of horror tempt one thought To base retire, when no voice could be heard, But thunder, and no object seen but lightning, Which seemed to have been struck from the first Chaos, So great a darkness had eclipsed the Sun, Yet then I thought on Honour, and looked Their lives that sunk about me, everybody I trod upon, (for now the dead had buried The earth) gave me addition to Where, in my imagination I saw Thee charioted, and dropping down a Garland. No more there are but complainers of wars, Perhaps some studied speech I love But am not taught with these Hyperboles honour's not won with words, true valour No paint of often That has the greatest orifice includes not The greatest danger. She has quashed his culverin, And now he's swearing out some prayers. she's mine. Thus looked the moon, when with her virgin fires She went in progress to the mountain Latmos, To visit her Endymion, yet I injure Your beauty, to compare it to her orb Of silver light, the Sun from which, she borrows That makes her up the nightly Lamp of heaven, Has in his stock of beams not half your luster, every the earth still with your sacred presence, Upon each object throw a glorious star, Created by your sight, that when the learned Astronomer comes forth to examine heaven, He may find two, and be himself divided, Which he should first contemplate. You both love me. But I the best. How sir, the best? Ere since I knew the Court, I had no other study but to advance myself to Honour, all my suits have been Directed to this one, that Honour would Fix me among those other Constellations That shine about the King, 'tis in thy love To plant a Coronet here: and then I dare justle the proudest Hero and be inscribed A demi god, frown dead the humble mortal, And with my breath call back their souls again. What cannot Honour do? Not that you boast. True Honour makes not proud, not takes delight I'th' ruin of poor virtue. Sir, you said you loved her best. And will maintain it. You cannot, dare not. Dare not? So peremptory, Honour may in time Find ways to tame the insolent Lady Riches, But leave her to her pride. The Courtier, and The Soldier look as they would quarrel. Let 'em. You see how they pursue me still, but Honour Is not so easily obtained. They are Gay creatures, and conspicuous in the world.
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)
Blesse me but with one smile if you did know With what devotion my soule lookes on you, How next to my religion I have placede, If not above How long since I first vowed my selfe your , That eye would I have No stocke of soft and melting words to you, Such silken language we are strangers to, We are us'd to other Dialect, and imitate the Drum, Bold Artillery: can you love me? When I have marched upon the dreadfull Cannon, My heart was fixt on Honor nor could death In all her shapes of horror temp one thought To base retire, when no voyce could be heard, But thunder, and no object seene but lightning, Which seem'd to have bin struck frō the first Cho, So great a darkenesse had eclips'd the Snne, Yet then I thought on Honor, and Their lives that about me, every body I trod upon, (for now the dead had The earth) gave me addition Where, in my imagination I saw Thee charioted, and dropping downe a Gland. No more there are but compl of wars, Perhaps some studied speech But am not taught with these Hyperbol Honor's not won with words No paint of often That has the greatest not The greatest danger. She has his Culvering, And now he's swearing out some prayers▪ Shee's mine. Thus lookt the moone, when with her virgin fires She went in progresse to the mountaine Latmos, To visit her Endimion, yet I injure Your beauty, to compare it to her orbe Of silver light, the Sun from which, she borrowes That makes her up the nightly Lamp of heaven, Has in his stock of beams not halfe your luster, Enrich the earth still with your sacred presence, Vpon each object throw a glorious starre, Created by your sight, that when the learn'd Astronomer comes forth to examine heaven, He may find two, and be himselfe devided, Which he should first contemplate. You both love me. But I the best. How sir, the best? Ere since I knew the Court, I had no other study but to advance My selfe to Honor, all my suites have beene Directed to this one, that Honor would Fixe me among those other Constellations That shine about the King, tis in thy love To plant a Coronet here: and then I dare Iustle the proudest Heroe and be inscrib'd A demy god, frowne dead the humble mortall, And with my breath call backe their soules agen. What cannot Honor doe? Not that you boast. True Honor makes not proud, not takes delight I'th ruine of poore vertue. Sir, you said you lov'd her best. And will maintaine it. You cannot, dare not. Dare not? So peremptory, Honor may in time Find wayes to tame the insolent Lady Riches, But leave her to her pride. The Courtier, and The Souldier looke as they would quarrell. Let 'em. You see how they pursue me still, but Honor Is not so easily obtain'd. They are Gay creatures, and conspicuous in the world.