Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
Will you, Sir, promise to give me freedom of speech? Yes I will, take it, speak any thing, 'tis pardoned. You are a whore master; do you send me to win Towns for you abroad, and you lose a kingdom at home? What kingdom? The fairest in the world, the kingdom of your fame, Your honour. Wherein? I'll be plain with you; much mischief is done by the mouth of a Canon, but the fire begins at a little touchhole; you heard what Nightingale sung to you even now. Ha, ha, ha. Angels erred but once and fell, but you, Sir, spit in heaven's face every minute, and laugh at it: laugh still; follow your courses; do; let your vices run like your Kennels of hounds yelping after you, till they pluck down the fairest head in the herd, everlasting bliss. Any more? Take sin as the English snuffed Tobacco, and scornfully blew the smoke in the eyes of heaven, the vapour flies up in clouds of bravery; but when 'tis out, the coal is black (your conscience,) and the pipe stinks; a sea of Rose-water cannot sweeten your corrupted bosom. Nay, spit thy venom. 'Tis Aqua Coelestis, no venom; for when you shall clasp up those two books, never to be opened again, when by letting fall that Anchor, which can never more be weighed up, your mortal Navigation ends: then there's no playing at spurn-point with thunderbolts. A Vintner then for unconscionable reckoning, or a tailor for unmeasurable Items shall not answer in half that fear you must. No more. I will follow Truth at the heels, though her foot beat my gums in pieces. The Barber that draws out a lion's tooth Curseth his Trade; and so shalt thou. I care not. Because you have beaten a few base-born Moores, methink'st thou to chastise? what's past I pardon, Because I made the key to unlock thy railing; But if thou dar'st once more be so untuned, I'll send thee to the Galleys, who are without there: How now? In danger, Sir? Yes, yes, I am; but 'tis no point of weapon Can rescue me; go presently and summon All our chief Grandoes, Cardinals, and Lords Of Spain to meet in Counsel instantly: We called you forth to execute a business Of another strain,— but 'tis no matter now Thou diest, when next thou furrowest up our brow. So: die! I find my Sceptre shaken by enchantments Charactered in this parchment, which to unloose, I'll practise only countercharms of fire, And blow the spells of lightning into smoke: Fetch burning Tapers. Give me Audience, Sir; My apprehension opens me a way To a close fatal mischief, worse than this You strive to murder; O this Act of yours Alone shall give your danger's life, which else Can never grow to height; do, Sir, but read A book here clasped up, which too late you opened, Now blotted by you with foul marginal notes. Art frantic? You are so, Sir. If I be, Then here's my first mad fit.
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)
Will you, Sir, promise to give mee freedome of speech? Yes I will, take it, speake any thing, 'tis pardon'd. You are a whore master; doe you send me to winne Townes for you abroad, and you lose a kingdome at home? What kingdome? The fayrest in the world, the kingdome of your fame, Your honour. Wherein? I'le be plaine with you; much mischiefe is done by the mouth of a Canon, but the fire begins at a little touchhole; you heard what Nightingale sung to you even now. Ha, ha, ha. Angels err'd but once and fell, but you, Sir, spit in heavens face every minute, and laugh at it: laugh still; follow your courses; doe; let your vices runne like your Kennels of hounds yelping after you, till they plucke downe the fayrest head in the heard, everlasting blisle. Any more? Take sinne as the English snufte Tobacco, and scornfully blew the smoake in the eyes of heaven, the vapour flyes up in clowds of bravery; but when 'tis out, the coale is blacke (your conscience,) and the pipe stinkes; a sea of Rose-water cannot sweeten your corrupted bosome. Nay, spit thy venome. 'Tis Aqua Coelestis, no venome; for when you shall claspe up those two books, never to be open'd againe, when by letting fall that Anchor, which can never more bee weighed up, your mortall Navigation ends: then there's no playing at spurne-point with thunderbolts. A Vintner then for unconscionable reckoning, or a Taylor for unmeasurable Items shall not answer in halfe that feare you must. No more. I will follow Truth at the heeles, tho her foot beat my gums in peeces. The Barber that drawes out a Lions tooth Curseth his Trade; and so shalt thou. I care not. Because you have beaten a few base-borne Moores, Me think'st thou to chastise? what's past I pardon, Because I made the key to unlocke thy railing; But if thou dar'st once more be so untun'd, I'le send thee to the Gallies, who are without there: How now? In danger, Sir? Ys, yes, I am; but 'tis no point of weapon Can rescue me; goe presently and summon All our chiefe Grandoes, Cardinals, and Lords Of Spaine to meet in Counsell instantly: We call'd you forth to execute a businesse Of another straine,—but 'tis no matter now Thou dyest, when next thou furrowest up our brow So: dye! I find my Scepter shaken by enchantments Charactred in this parchment, which to unloose, I'le practise onely counter-charmes of fire, And blow the ipels of lightning into smoake: Fetch burning Tapers. Give me Audience, Sir; My apprehension opens me a way To a close fatall mischiefe, worse then this You strive to murder; O this Act of yours Alone shall give your dangers life, which else Can never grow to height; doe, Sir, but read A booke here claspt up, which too late you open'd, Now blotted by you with foule marginall notes. Art franticke? You are so, Sir. If I be, Then here's my first mad fit.