Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T25: feare, kings, power, princes, lawes, loue, state, downe, honor, men.
I saw corruption was the way to rise, And with that shot I pierc'd their tyrannies. Their guard I did corrupt. Base seruile spirits, (I knew) lackt wit to see, or heart to beare Temptation: For desire is infinite In them, that wanting honour cannot feare. Triall is made: The King I doe possesse: My right is more; why should my hope be lesse? And am I King? And doe my foes still liue? Can wounded Greatnesse slumber in a Throne? Or that be glory which I feele alone? No, No: Let rigour speake, which all men heare: Life, is the worke of Nature; death, of Kings: Ruine it is, that reputation brings. My Guard is strong; their first imployment is The murther of those men my father trusts; Not all; for that were cruelty, not wit: Some simple being, some indifferent sp'rits: Their ends, and honours being but delights. Others ambitious, rash, and violent, No inward strength of nature: or of grace; Of present power the noblest instruments. Transforme, and vse: wit vertue doth exceed: For it is all, or none, as men haue need. Only my care is how the Plot should proue, Which for the Basshas now in ambush lies: My wife hath art and rage, which iointly moue Her head-strong spirits vnto cruelties. But if her craft serue not to plucke them downe, The sword wants not pretences for the Crowne. My friends, and Mates! (You! vpon whom I lay My life, and honour, with this State, in trust) Be resolute; For scruple doth betray; Since all great works haue great examples must. Take Assem, Zeraphus, and Velladoune: Blood asketh blood: with rauine they did spoyle The people first; and now betray the Crowne. Reuenge your parents, Countrey-men, and kin: Blood here is iust, true honor, and no sinne. The cancred Calchas, scourge of Tyrannies, Great master of deceipt, Artisan of spoyle, The spie of faults, and spring of subsidies; Naked deliuer him into the Sea, To plague those faults it cannot wash away. The rest to bonds, who though they want no spite, Their frailty yet for innocence shall stand. All else exile. Obey in euery thing: They happy are that serue a rising King. Plac'd in a Throne? Guarded? Ador'd? and Crownd? What meanes this change? These signes of Maiestie? Goodnesse gets not so soone a great Estate: Mischiefe's foule way to Soueraignity: This secret haste is sure: all is imbound. What shall I do? Hold on the course I meant? Why not? The death of Mahomet will still content. Thy will is done; and Mahomet is slaine. My minde misgaue it selfe; my thoughts did feare; Yet knew I they of nothing guilty were. By fate, or malice is the Bassha slaine? By fate I thinke: for Iustice fatall is, As Gods bequest to them that doe amisse. By suddaine death, by thunder, lightning, fire, Or by what other anger of the skie? I pray thee shew how Mahomet did die.
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)
I saw corruption was the way to rise, And with that shot I pierc'd their tyrannies. Their guard I did corrupt. Base seruile spirits, (I knew) lackt wit to see, or heart to beare Temptation: For desire is infinite In them, that wanting honour cannot feare. Triall is made: The King I doe possesse: My right is more; why should my hope be lesse? And am I King? And doe my foes still liue? Can wounded Greatnesse slumber in a Throne? Or that be glory which I feele alone? No, No: Let rigour speake, which all men heare: Life, is the worke of Nature; death, of Kings: Ruine it is, that reputation brings. My Guard is strong; their first imployment is The murther of those men my father trusts; Not all; for that were cruelty, not wit: Some simple being, some indifferent sp'rits: Their ends, and honours being but delights. Others ambitious, rash, and violent, No inward strength of nature: or of grace; Of present power the noblest instruments. Transforme, and vse: wit vertue doth exceed: For it is all, or none, as men haue need. Only my care is how the Plot should proue, Which for the Basshas now in ambush lies: My wife hath art and rage, which iointly moue Her head-strong spirits vnto cruelties. But if her craft serue not to plucke them downe, The sword wants not pretences for the Crowne. My friends, and Mates! (You! vpon whom I lay My life, and honour, with this State, in trust) Be resolute; For scruple doth betray; Since all great works haue great examples must. Take Assem, Zeraphus, and Velladoune: Blood asketh blood: with rauine they did spoyle The people first; and now betray the Crowne. Reuenge your parents, Countrey-men, and kin: Blood here is iust, true honor, and no sinne. The cancred Calchas, scourge of Tyrannies, Great master of deceipt, Artisan of spoyle, The spie of faults, and spring of subsidies; Naked deliuer him into the Sea, To plague those faults it cannot wash away. The rest to bonds, who though they want no spite, Their frailty yet for innocence shall stand. All else exile. Obey in euery thing: They happy are that serue a rising King. Plac'd in a Throne? Guarded? Ador'd? and Crownd? What meanes this change? These signes of Maiestie? Goodnesse gets not so soone a great Estate: Mischiefe's foule way to Soueraignity: This secret haste is sure: all is imbound. What shall I do? Hold on the course I meant? Why not? The death of Mahomet will still content. Thy will is done; and Mahomet is slaine. My minde misgaue it selfe; my thoughts did feare; Yet knew I they of nothing guilty were. By fate, or malice is the Bassha slaine? By fate I thinke: for Iustice fatall is, As Gods bequest to them that doe amisse. By suddaine death, by thunder, lightning, fire, Or by what other anger of the skie? I pray thee shew how Mahomet did die.