Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T50: sea, honour, general, soldiers, men, ship, fight, soldier, king, vittori.
Basely to stab a woman, your wronged Niece, And her most innocent son Sebastian. The Boar now foams with whetting. What has blunted Thy weapons point at these? My honesty; A sign at which few dwell: (pure honesty!) I am a vassal to Medina's house, He taught me first the A, B, C, of war: Ere I was Truncheon-high, I had the style Of beardless Captain, writing then but boy, And shall I now turn slave to him that fed me With Cannon-bullets' and taught me, ostrich-like, To digest Iron and Steel! no: yet I yielded With willow-bendings to commanding breaths. Of whom? Of King and Queen: with supple Hams, And an ill-boding look, I vowed to do't: Yet, lest some Choke-pear of State-policy Shooed stop my throat, and spoil my drinking-pipe, See (like his cloak) I hung at the king's elbow, Till I had got his hand to sign my life. Shall we see this and sleep? No, whilst these wake. 'Tis the king's hand. Think you me a coiner? No, no, thou art thyself still, Noble Baltazar, I ever knew thee honest, and the mark Stands still upon thy forehead. Else flay the skin off. I ever knew thee valiant, and to scorn All acts of baseness: I have seen this man Write in the field such stories with his sword, That cur best Chieftains swore there was in him As 'twere a new Philosophy of fighting, His deeds were so Punctilious: In one battle, When death so nearly missed my ribs, he struck Three horses stone-dead under me: This man, Three times that day (even through the jaws of danger) Redeemed me up, and (I shall print it ever) Stood o'er my body with colossus thighs, Whilst all the Thunderbolts which war could throw, Fell on his head: And Baltazar, thou canst not Be now but honest still, and valiant still, Not to kill boys and women. My byter here, cats no such meat. Go fetch the marked-out Lamb for slaughter hither, Good fellow-soldier aid him,— and stay— mark, Give this false fire to the believing King, That the child's sent to heaven, but that the mother Stands rocked so strong with friends, ten thousand billows Cannot once shake her. This I'll do. Away: Yet one word more; your Counsel, Noble friends; Hark Baltazar, because nor eyes nor tongues, Shall by loud Larums, that the poor boy lives, Question thy false report, the child shall closely Mantled in darkness, forthwith be conveyed To the Monastery of Saint Paul. Good. Dispatch then, be quick. As Lightning. This fellow is some Angel dropped from heaven To preserve Innocence. He is a wheel Of swift and turbulent motion; I have trusted him, Yet will not hang on him too many plummets, Lest with a headlong Cyre he ruins all: In these State-consternations, when a kingdom Stands tottering at the Center, out of suspicion Safety grows often; let us suspect this fellow, And that albeit he show us the king's hand, It may be but a Trick.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T45 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Basely to stab a woman, your wrong'd Neece, And her most innocent sonne Sebastian. The Boare now foames with whetting. What has blunted Thy weapons point at these? My honesty; A signe at which few dwell: (pure honesty!) I am a vaslaile to Medina's house, He taught me first the A, B, C, of warre: Ere I was Truncheon-high, I had the stile Of beardlesse Captaine, writing then but boy, And shall I now turne slave to him that fed me With Cannon-bullets' and taught me, Estridge-like, To digest Iron and Steele! no: yet I yeelded With willow-bendings to commanding breaths. Of whom? Of King and Queene: with supple Hams, And an ill-boading looke, I vow'd to doo't: Yet, lest some choake-peare of State-policy Shoo'd stop my throat, and spoyle my drinking-pipe, See (like his cloake) I hung at the Kings elbow, Till I had got his hand to signe my life. Shall we see this and sleepe? No, whilst these wake. 'Tis the Kings hand. Thinke you me a quoyner? No, no, thou art thy selfe still, Noble Baltazar, ever knew thee honest, and the marke Stands still upon thy fore-head. Else flea the skin off. I ever knew thee valiant, and to scorne All acts of basnesse: I have seene this man Write in the field such stories with his sword, That cur best Chiefetaines swore there was in him As 'twere a new Philosophy of fighting, His deeds were so Puntillious: In one battell, When death so nearely mist my ribs, he strucke Three horses stone-dead under me: This man, Three times that day (even through the jawes of danger) Redeem d me up, and (I shall print it ever) Stood o're my body with Collossus thighes, Whilst all the Thunder-bolts which warre could throw, Fell on his head: And Baltazar, thou canst not Be now but honest still, and valiant still, Not to kill boyes and women. My byter here, cats no such meat. Goe fetch the mark'd-out Lambe for flaughter hither, Good fellow-souldier ayd him,—and stay—marke, Give this false fire to the beleeving King, That the child's sent to heaven, but that the mother Stands rock'd so strong with friends, ten thousand billowes Cannot once shake her. This I'dle doe. Away: Yet one word more; your Counsell, Noble friends; Harke Baltazar, because nor eyes nor tongues, Shall by lowd Larums, that the poore boy liues, Question thy false report, the child shall closely Mantled in darknesse, forthwith be conveyed To the Monasery of Saint Paul. Good. Dispatch then, be quicke. As Lightning. This fellow is some Angell drop'd from heauen To preserve Innocence. He is a wheele Of swift and turbulent motion; I have trusted him, Yet will not hang on him too many plummets, Lest with a headlong Cyre he ruines all: In these State-consternations, when a kingdome Stands tottering at the Cnter, out of suspition Safety growes often; let us suspect this fellow, And that albeit he shew us the Kings hand, It may be but a Tricke.