Digital Renaissance Editions

Toolbox




Jump to line
Through Line Number
Help on texts
About this text
Print this page

About this text

  • Title: Fair Em (Quarto 1, 1593)
  • Editor: Brett Greatley-Hirsch

    • ISBN:

    Copyright Digital Renaissance Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: Anonymous
    Editor: Brett Greatley-Hirsch
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Fair Em (Quarto 1, 1593)

    The Millers daughter
    Here is no tyme for contemplation.
    Robert Windsor. My Lord, there is a certaine odd conceite,
    Which on the sudden greatly troubles me.
    250Lubeck. How like you Blaunch? I partly do perceiue
    The little boy hath played the wagg with you.
    Sir Robert. The more I looke, the more I loue to looke,
    Who seyes that Mariana is not faire:
    Ile gage my gauntlet gainst the enuious man,
    255That dares auowe there liueth her compare.
    Lubeck. Sir Robert, you mistake your counterfeit.
    This is the Ladie which you came to see.
    Sir Robert. yea, my Lord: Shee is counterfait in deede:
    For there is the substance that best contents me.
    260Lubek. That is my loue. Sir Robert you do wrong me.
    Robert. The better for you sir, she is your Loue,
    As for the wrong, I see not how it growes.
    Lubeck. In seeking that which is anothers right.
    Robert. As who should saie your loue were priuileged
    265That none might looke vpon her but your selfe.
    Lubeck. These iarres becomes not our familiaritie,
    Nor will I stand on termes to moue your patience.
    Robert. Why my Lord, am not I of flesh and bloud as well as you?
    Then giue me leaue to loue as well as you.
    270Lubeck. To Loue Sir Robert? but whome? not she I Loue?
    Nor stands it with the honor of my state,
    To brooke corriuals with me in my loue.
    Robert. So Sir, we are thorough for that L.
    Ladies farewell. Lord Marques, will you go?
    275I will finde a time to speake with her I trowe?
    Lubeck. With all my heart. Come Ladies wil you walk?Exit.
    Enter Manuile alone disguised.
    Manuile. Ah Em the subiect of my restlesse thoughts,
    The Anuyle whereupon my heart doth beate,
    280Framing thy state to thy desert,
    Full yll this life becomes thy heauenly looke,
    Wherein, sweete loue and vertue sits enthroned.
    Bad
    About
    Contact us
    Content quality
    Site guide
    © Digital Renaissance Editions
    Published by the ISE
    Copyright details
    Privacy policy
    This site is supported by:
    University of Victoria
    University of Western Australia
    Friends of the ISE