Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
Instruct me how. You (as your fortunes tie you) are inclined To have the blow given. Where's the Instrument? 'Tis found in Baltazar. he's banished. True, But stayed by me for this. His spirit is hot And rugged, but so honest, that his soul Will ne'er turn devil to do it. Put it to trial: Retire a little, hither I'll send for him, Offer repeal and favours if he do it; But if deny, you have no finger in't, And then his doom of banishment stands good. Be happy in thy workings; I obey. Stay Lopez. Madam. Step to our Lodging (Lopez) And instantly bid Malateste bring The banished Baltazar to us. I shall. Thrive my black plots, the mischiefs I have set Must not so die; Ills must new Ills beget. Now! what hot poisoned Custard must I put my Spoon into now? None, for mine honour now is thy protection. Which, Noble Soldier, she will pawn for thee, But never forfeit. 'Tis a fair gage, keep it. Oh Baltazar! I am thy friend, and marked thee; When the King sentenced thee to banishment Fire sparkled from thine eyes of rage and grief; Rage to be doomed so for a Groom so base, And grief to lose thy County: thou hast killed none, The Milksop is but wounded, thou art not banished. If I were, I lose nothing, I can make any Country mine: I have a private Coat for Italian Stellettoes, I can be treacherous with the Walloon, drunk with the Dutch, a Chimney-sweeper with the Irish, a Gentleman with the Welsh, and turn arrant thief with the English, what then is my Country to me? The King (who raped with fury) banished thee, Shall give thee favours, yield but to destroy What him distempers. So: And what's the dish I must dress? Only the cutting off a pair of lives. I love no Red-wine healths. The King commands it, you are but Executioner. The Hangman? An office that will hold so long as hemp lasts, why do not you beg the office, Sir? Thy victories in field did never crown thee As this one Act shall. Prove but that, 'tis done. Follow him close, he's yielding. Thou shalt be called thy country's Patriot, For quenching out a fire now newly kindling In factious bosoms, and shalt thereby save More Noble Spanyards lives, than thou slew'st Moores. Art thou not yet converted? No point. Read me then: Medina's Niece (by a Contract from the King) Lays claim to all that's mine, my Crown, my bed; A son she has by him must fill the Throne, If her great faction can but work that wonder: Now hear me— I do with gaping ears. I swell with hopeful issue to the King. A brave Don call you mother. Of this danger The fear afflicts the King. Cannot much blame him. If therefore by the riddance of this Dame— Riddance? oh! the meaning on't is murder. Stab her, or so, that's all.
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)
Instruct me how. You (as your fortunes tye you) are inclin'd To have the blow given. Where's the Instrument? 'Tis ound in Baltazar. Hee's banish'd. True, But staid by me for this. His spirit is hot And rugged, but so honest, that his soule Will ne're turne devill to doe it. Put it to tryall: Retire a little, hither I'le send for him, Offer repeale and favours if he doe it; But if deny, you have no finger in't, And then his doome of banishment stands good. Be happy in thy workings; I obey. Stay Lopez. Madam. Step to our Lodging (Lopez) And instantly bid Malateste bring The banish'd Baltazar to us. I shall. Thrive my blacke plots, the mischiefes I have set Must not so dye; Ills must new Ills beget. Now! what hot poyson'd Custard must I put my Spoone into now? None, for mine honour now is thy protection. Which, Noble Souldier, she will pawne for thee, But never forfeit. 'Tis a aire gage, keepe it. Oh Baltazar! I am thy friend, and mark'd thee; When the King sentenc'd thee to banishment Fire sparkled from thine eyes of rage and griefe; Rage to be doom'd so for a Groome so base, And griefe to lose thy County: thou hast kill'd none, The Milke-sop is but wounded, thou art not banish'd. If I were, I lose nothing, I can make any Country mine: I have a private Coat for Italian Steltto's, I can be treacherous with the Wallowne, drunke with the Dutch, a Chimney-sweeper with the Irish, a Gentleman with the Welsh, and turne arrant theefe with the English, what then is my Country to me? The King (who rap'd with fury) banish'd thee, Shall give thee favours, yeeld but to destroy What him distempers. So: And what's the dish I must dresse? Onely the cutting off a paire of lives. I love no Red-wine healths. The King commands it, you are but Executioner. The Hang-man? An office that will hold so long as hempe lasts, why doe not you begge the office, Sir? Thy victories in field did never crowne thee As this one Act shall. Prove but that, 'tis done. Follow him close, hee's yeelding. Thou shalt be call'd thy Countries Patriot, For quenching out a fire now newly kindling In factious bosomes, and shalt thereby save More Noble Spanyards lives, than thou slew'st Moores. Art thou not yet converted? No point. Read me then: Medina's Neece (by a Contract from the King) Layes clayme to all that's mine, my Crowne, my bed; A sonne she has by him must fill the Throne, If her great faction can but worke that wonder: Now heare me— I doe with gaping eares. I swell with hopefull issue to the King. A brave Don call you mother. Of this danger The feare afflicts the King. Cannot much blame him. If therefore by the riddance of this Dame— Riddance? oh! the meaning on't is murder. Stab her, or so, that's all.