Fisher, Jasper · published 1633 · first performed or written 1625 [c.1611-1633] (Annals) history · at University unassigned nearest T12 Olympian gods: Jupiter, Juno, Venus and · 500 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T12: iupiter, saturn, iuno, venus, gods, mars, earth, titan, love, fair.
But where's the Answer which her Idol gave: Can you expound the sense? Dread Sovereign, Thus runs the Oracle: Loud doth the King of Beasts roar, High doth the Queen of Birds soar: But her wings clipped soon grow out: Both repent they are so stout. Till C. 'gainst C. strike a round, In a perfect Circle bound. The meaning wrapped up in cross doubtful terms, Lies yet thus open: That disastrous fate Must be the Prologue to a joyful close. The rest we'll search out, if our skill don't fail. Renowned Cassibelane, might my counsel speak! I know thy loyal heart, and prudent head, Upon whose hairs Time's child experience hangs A milk-white badge of wisdom: And canst wield Thy tongue in Senate, and thy hands in field. Speak free, Belinus. We forfeit fame, and smother victory By idle lingering: The Foe discomfited Must needs be much amazed: His Ships dismembered Do piecemeal float upon the waves: The Horse, Whose succour he expects, are beaten back By friendly winds: His Camp contracted is, A tithe of soldiers left, the rest all slain: His chief munition spent, or lost: provision, An Army's soul, but what we give, he wants. What then shall hinder to destroy their name? So none again shall venture, but our I'll Rounded with Nereus' girdle may enjoy Eternal peace. I like thy warning: with united stroke Of all our Nations, we'll his Camp beleaguer, Devouring ships and men. But one mischance, My Brother's wound, his mortal wound I fear, Turns all to wormwood. Why were ye dumb ye Idols! No Sainted Statue did foretell this grief. Come let's go visit him. You may, Lord General, Set Comius free: We love not to insult, But render good for ill. Heaven, Sea, and Wind, and all the Elements, Conspire to work us harm. Our Ships in Gaul Wind-bound, at length put forth, and come in view Are tossed, and torn: Our Navy on the shore With civil discord break each others planks. The airy Rulers are displeased, all day Noises and nimble flashes mixed with rain Amaze our soldiers. To make grief full, my daughter's death I hear. When, powerful Fortune, will thy anger cease? Never till now did Caesar fortune fear. Mount Palatine, thou Throne of Ioue, and ye Whose lesser Turrets pinnacle Rome's head: Are all your Deities fled? or was I bold, To outgo Nature, and our Empire stretch Beyond her limits? Pardon then my fault. Or do we basely faint? Or is our might Answered with like, since Troy 'gainst Troy doth fight? Nor can I write now, I came over, and I overcame: Such foes deny such haste. The islanders consult, and sure intend Some sudden stratagem. And now the scales poise equal day and night, when rougher Seas, And stormy Pleiads may our passage stop. Then Sirs, to ship: Compelled I leave this land: But to return, if gods do not withstand, We won the day: and all our foes are fled?
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)
But where's the Answer which her Idoll gaue: Can you expound the sense? Dread Soueraigne, Thus runnes the Oracle▪ Loud doth the King of Beasts roare, High doth the Queene of Birds soare: But her wings clipt soone grow out: Both repent they are so stout. Till C. gainst C. strike a round, In a perfect Circle bound. The meaning wrapt vp in crosse doubtfull termes, Lyes yet thus open: That disastrous fate Must be the Prologue to a ioyfull cloze. The rest wee'l search out, if our skill don't faile. Renown'd Cassibelane, might my counsell speake! I know thy loyall heart, and prudent head, Vpon whose haires Time's child experience hangs A milke-white badge of wisedome: And canst wield Thy tongue in Senate, and thy hands in field. Speake free, Belinus. We forfeit fame, and smother victory By idle lingering: The Foe discomfited Must needs be much amaz'd: His Ships dismembred Doe peece-meale floate vpon the waues: The Horse, Whose succour he expects, are beaten backe By friendly windes: His Campe contracted is, A tithe of souldiers left, the rest all slaine: His chiefe munition spent, or lost: prouision, An Armies soule, but what we giue, he wants. What then shall hinder to destroy their name? So none againe shall venter, but our Ile Rounded with Nereus girdle may inioy Eternall peace. I like thy warning: with vnited stroke Of all our Nations, wee'l his Campe beleaguer, Devouring ships and men. But one mischance, My Brother's wound, his mortall wound I feare, Turnes all to wormewood. Why were ye dumbe ye Idolls! No Sainted Statue did foretell this griefe. Come lets goe visit him. You may, Lord Generall, Set Comius free: We loue not to insult, But render good for ill. Heauen, Sea, and Wind, and all the Elements, Conspire to worke vs harme. Our Ships in Gaule Wind-bound, at length put forth, and come in view Are tost, and torne: Our Nauy on the shoare With ciuill discord breake each others plankes. The ayrie Rulers are displeas'd, all day Noyses and nimble flashes mixt with raine Amaze our souldiers. To make griefe full, my Daughters death I heare. When, powerfull Fortune, will thy anger cease? Neuer till now did Caesar fortune feare. Mount Palatine, thou Throne of Ioue, and ye Whose lesser Turrets pinnacle Rome's head: Are all your Deities fled? or was I bold, To out-goe Nature, and our Empire stretch Beyond her limites? Pardon then my fault. Or doe we basely faint? Or is our might Answer'd with like, since Troy gainst Troy doth fight? Nor can I write now, I came ouer, and I ouercame: Such foes deny such hast. The Ilanders consult, and sure intend Some sudden stratageme. And now the scales Poyze equall day and night, when rougher Seas, And stormy Pleyads may our passage stop. Then Sirs, to ship: Compell'd I leaue this land: But to returne, if gods doe not withstand, We wunne the day: and all our foes are fled?