Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T25: feare, kings, power, princes, lawes, loue, state, downe, honor, men.
Now though by him the present state I gain'd, Yet to my after-ends this gaue no ayde: For their foundations only were, by fame, On peoples loues, and wonders to be layd. How little Princes fauors help the same They know, that marke what feet men goe withall, Who while they rise in grace, in credit fall. The people then it was that I must seeke, A future, not a present vse of power; Not strength establish'd, but a strength to change; To all, but onely those who worke it, strange. With this Caines place had no Affinity; It presage being of a Kingdomes fall, When Kings trust any one to gouerne all. His nature lesse, for it Monarchall was, Sharpe, narrow-humor'd, only fit to rise By that, which people hate, Crowne-flatteries. Since nature therefore cannot change her face, To thinke one fit, for all were foolishnesse, To force an instrument experience feares, Since wit may take of each the fruit it beares. Of Mahomet I then bethought my selfe, Whose absence pittie had. And as in sects, The present errors doe prepare a place For masked change, to shew her pleasing face: So did the hate of present Gouernment Forget his faults, as they forget their wounds. I saw that he alone did fit my ends; Occasion mother is of truest friends. My ends were not to broyle the present State, Norleaue obedience in my fathers dayes; But after he was dead, to dispossesse My brother, whom the heauens did depresse. Chance wrought me good: lest it should worke me feare, I meant to goe beyond the wayes of spite, Both stay, and winne the world with Mahomet: For who can stirre are fittest meanes to let. My father I did moue, remou'd, and sped, Feare made him pittifull, and folly kinde, In passions Orbe most patient to be led; Each argument begat another minde; Doubt had no memory, offence was dead, Distresse seem'd safety, likelinesse did binde: For in these captiue wits, borne to be thrall, Who sees one thought beyond them, seeth all. Mahomet returnes: But whether deeply shrin'd, Within the hollow abstracts of his heart, His malice lay; or that ambitious kinde Be easie, for it selfe, from all to part; Respect to me, and honour, layd behinde; Finding this King to be but humors art, He takes his soule, and miracles he showes; Restores the lost, th' establish'd ouerthrowes. My elder brother, whom the Gods fore-spake Lawes had depriu'd, exil'd, and men forgot, He straight calls home; and dares to vndertake That which audacity beleeueth not. Ah! Error of good meaning, apt to trust, For want of ill enough, I perish must. And am I borne for duties sacrifice, To watch for change of times, or Gods reuenge? Is patience scorne, and hazard yet vnwise? No, No: Confusion raignes; despaire is it, That now makes chance a God; and danger, wit. Inflam'd, distract, confus'd, put out of feare I am. Visions I feele of better hopes arise. Malice, and rage, whose heats had barrennesse, Are, with ambition of reuenge, made wise. Birth, chance, occasion, right, good fortunes be To some: and wrong can all these be to me?
seed 43: T25 · seed 44: T6 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Now though by him the present state I gain'd, Yet to my after-ends this gaue no ayde: For their foundations only were, by fame, On peoples loues, and wonders to be layd. How little Princes fauors help the same They know, that marke what feet men goe withall, Who while they rise in grace, in credit fall. The people then it was that I must seeke, A future, not a present vse of power; Not strength establish'd, but a strength to change; To all, but onely those who worke it, strange. With this Caines place had no Affinity; It presage being of a Kingdomes fall, When Kings trust any one to gouerne all. His nature lesse, for it Monarchall was, Sharpe, narrow-humor'd, only fit to rise By that, which people hate, Crowne-flatteries. Since nature therefore cannot change her face, To thinke one fit, for all were foolishnesse, To force an instrument experience feares, Since wit may take of each the fruit it beares. Of Mahomet I then bethought my selfe, Whose absence pittie had. And as in sects, The present errors doe prepare a place For masked change, to shew her pleasing face: So did the hate of present Gouernment Forget his faults, as they forget their wounds. I saw that he alone did fit my ends; Occasion mother is of truest friends. My ends were not to broyle the present State, Norleaue obedience in my fathers dayes; But after he was dead, to dispossesse My brother, whom the heauens did depresse. Chance wrought me good: lest it should worke me feare, I meant to goe beyond the wayes of spite, Both stay, and winne the world with Mahomet: For who can stirre are fittest meanes to let. My father I did moue, remou'd, and sped, Feare made him pittifull, and folly kinde, In passions Orbe most patient to be led; Each argument begat another minde; Doubt had no memory, offence was dead, Distresse seem'd safety, likelinesse did binde: For in these captiue wits, borne to be thrall, Who sees one thought beyond them, seeth all. Mahomet returnes: But whether deeply shrin'd, Within the hollow abstracts of his heart, His malice lay; or that ambitious kinde Be easie, for it selfe, from all to part; Respect to me, and honour, layd behinde; Finding this King to be but humors art, He takes his soule, and miracles he showes; Restores the lost, th' establish'd ouerthrowes. My elder brother, whom the Gods fore-spake Lawes had depriu'd, exil'd, and men forgot, He straight calls home; and dares to vndertake That which audacity beleeueth not. Ah! Error of good meaning, apt to trust, For want of ill enough, I perish must. And am I borne for duties sacrifice, To watch for change of times, or Gods reuenge? Is patience scorne, and hazard yet vnwise? No, No: Confusion raignes; despaire is it, That now makes chance a God; and danger, wit. Inflam'd, distract, confus'd, put out of feare I am. Visions I feele of better hopes arise. Malice, and rage, whose heats had barrennesse, Are, with ambition of reuenge, made wise. Birth, chance, occasion, right, good fortunes be To some: and wrong can all these be to me?