Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T40: brother, death, life, die, heaven, sin, live, father, blood, soul.
Tell yet where thou thy Father last didst see. Euen where he by his losse of eyes hath wonne, That he no more shall see his monstrous Sonne. First, in perpetuall night thou mad'st him goe; His flesh the graue, his life the stage, where sense Playes all the Tragedies of paine, and woe. And wouldst thou trayterosly thy selfe exceed, By seeking thus to make his Ghost to bleed? Beare her away: deuise; adde to the racke Torments, that both call death, and turne it backe. The flattering glasse of Power is others paine. Perfect thy worke; that heauen, and hell may know, To worse I cannot, going from thee, goe. " Eternall life, that euer liu'st aboue! If sense there be with thee of hate, or loue; " Reuenge my King, and Fathers ouerthrow. O Father! if that name reach vp so high, " And be more than a proper word of Art, To teach respects in our humanity; " Accept these paines, wherof you feele no smart. What sound is this of Celica's distresse? Alaham! wrong not a silly sisters faith. 'Tis plague enough that she is innocent; My child, thy sister; borne (by thee, and me) With shame, and sinne to haue affinity. Breake me; I am the prison of thy thought: Crownes deare enough, with fathers blood, are bought. Now feele thou shalt, thou ghost vnnaturall! Those wounds which thou to my heart then didst giue, When, in despite of God, this State, and me, Thou did'st from death mine elder brother free. The smart of Kings oppression doth not die: Time, rusteth malice; rust, wounds cruelly. Flatter thy wickednesse; adorne thy rage; To weare a Crowne teare vp thy Fathers age. Kill not thy sister: It is lacke of wit, To doe an ill that brings no good with it. Goe, lead them hence. Prepare the funerall; Hasten the sacrifice, and pompe of woe. Where she did hide him, thither let them goe. " O God! who mad'st those lawes which this" Wretch breaks, " Let parents blood this curse vpon him bring; That he, who of a child breakes all respect, " May, in his children, finde the same neglect. LIke as strong windes doe worke vpon the Sea, Stirring, and tossing waues to warre each other: So Princes doe with Peoples humors play, As if Confusion were the Scepters mother. But Crownes! take heed: when humble things mount high, The windes oft calme before those billowes lie. When we are all wrong'd, had we all one minde, Whom could you punish? what could you reserue? Againe, as hope, and feare distract mankinde; Knew Kings their strength, our freedome were to serue. But Fate doth to her selfe reserue both these, With each to punish other, when it please. Grant that we be the stuffe for Princes art, By, and on it, to build their Thrones aboue vs: Yet if Kings be the head, we be the heart; And know we loue no soule, that doth not loue vs. Mens many passions iudge the worst at length, And they that doe so, easily know their strength:
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)
Tell yet where thou thy Father last didst see. Euen where he by his losse of eyes hath wonne, That he no more shall see his monstrous Sonne. First, in perpetuall night thou mad'st him goe; His flesh the graue, his life the stage, where sense Playes all the Tragedies of paine, and woe. And wouldst thou trayterosly thy selfe exceed, By seeking thus to make his Ghost to bleed? Beare her away: deuise; adde to the racke Torments, that both call death, and turne it backe. The flattering glasse of Power is others paine. Perfect thy worke; that heauen, and hell may know, To worse I cannot, going from thee, goe. " Eternall life, that euer liu'st aboue! " If sense there be with thee of hate, or loue; " Reuenge my King, and Fathers ouerthrow. "O Father! if that name reach vp so high, " And be more than a proper word of Art, " To teach respects in our humanity; " Accept these paines, wherof you feele no smart. What sound is this of Celica's distresse? Alaham! wrong not a silly sisters faith. 'Tis plague enough that she is innocent; My child, thy sister; borne (by thee, and me) With shame, and sinne to haue affinity. Breake me; I am the prison of thy thought: Crownes deare enough, with fathers blood, are bought. Now feele thou shalt, thou ghost vnnaturall! Those wounds which thou to my heart then didst giue, When, in despite of God, this State, and me, Thou did'st from death mine elder brother free. The smart of Kings oppression doth not die: Time, rusteth malice; rust, wounds cruelly. Flatter thy wickednesse; adorne thy rage; To weare a Crowne teare vp thy Fathers age. Kill not thy sister: It is lacke of wit, To doe an ill that brings no good with it. Goe, lead them hence. Prepare the funerall; Hasten the sacrifice, and pompe of woe. Where she did hide him, thither let them goe. " O God! who mad'st those lawes which this " Wretch breaks, " Let parents blood this curse vpon him bring; " That he, who of a child breakes all respect, " May, in his children, finde the same neglect. LIke as strong windes doe worke vpon the Sea, Stirring, and tossing waues to warre each other: So Princes doe with Peoples humors play, As if Confusion were the Scepters mother. But Crownes! take heed: when humble things mount high, The windes oft calme before those billowes lie. When we are all wrong'd, had we all one minde, Whom could you punish? what could you reserue? Againe, as hope, and feare distract mankinde; Knew Kings their strength, our freedome were to serue. But Fate doth to her selfe reserue both these, With each to punish other, when it please. Grant that we be the stuffe for Princes art, By, and on it, to build their Thrones aboue vs: Yet if Kings be the head, we be the heart; And know we loue no soule, that doth not loue vs. Mens many passions iudge the worst at length, And they that doe so, easily know their strength: