Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
Room, room, for my Horse will wince, If he come within so many yards of a Prince, And though he have not on his wings, He will do strange things. He is the Pegasus that uses To wait on Warwick Muses; And on gaudy-dayes he paces Before the Coventrie Graces; For to tell you true, and in rhyme, He was foald in Q. Elizabeth's time, When the great Earl of Lester In this Castle did feast her. Now, I am not so stupid To think, you think me a Cupid; Or a Mercury, that sit him: Though these Cocks here would fit him. But a spirit very civil, Neither Poets God, nor Devil, An old Kenelworth Fox, The Ghost of Captain Cox, For which I am the bolder, To wear a Cock on each shoulder. This Captain Cox, by St. Mary, Was at Bullen with King Harry; And (if some do not vary) Had a goodly library, By which he was discerned To be one of the learned To entertain the Queen here, When last she was seen here. And for the Town of Coventrie To act to her sovereignty. But so his lot fell out, That serving than afoot, And being a little man; When the skirmish began 'Twixt the Saxon, and the Dane, (For thence the story was ta'en) He was not so well seen As he would have been o'the Queen. Though this sword were twice so long As any man's else in the throng And for his sake, the Play Was called for the second day. But he made a vow (And he performs it now) That were he alive, or dead, Hereafter, it should never be said But Cap. Cox would serve on horse For better or for worse, If any Prince came hither. And his horse should have a feather Nay, such a Prince it might be Perhaps he should have three. Now, Sir (in your approach The rumbling of your Coach Awaking me, (his Ghost) I come to play your Host; And feast your eyes and ears, Neither with Dogs, nor Bears, Though that have been a fit Of our maine-shire wit, In times heretofore, But now, we have got a little more. These than that we present With a most loyal intent And (as the Author saith) Not ill meaning to the Catholic faith, Are not so much beasts, as Fowls, But a very Nest of Owls, And natural, so thrive I, I found them in the Ivy, A thing, that though I blundred at, It may in time be wondered at, If the place but affords Any store of lucky birds, As I make'em to flush Each Owl out of his bush. Now, these Owls (some say) were men, And they may be so again, If once they endure the light Of your highness' sight: For Bank-rupts, we have known Rise to more than their own. With a little-little savour Of the Prince's favour, But, as you like their tricks, I'll spring'em, they are but six. hay, Owl first.
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)
ROome, roome, for my Horſe will wince, If he come within ſo many yards of a Prince, And though he have not on his wings, He will doe ſtrange things. He is the Pegaſus that uſes To waite on Warwick Muſes; And on gaudy-dayes he paces Before the Coventrie Graces; For to tell you true, and in rime, He was foald in Q. Elizabeths time, When the great Earle of Leſter In this Caſtle did feaſt her. Now, I am not ſo ſtupid To thinke, you thinke me a Cupid; Or a Mercurie, that ſit him: Though theſe Cocks here would fit him. But a ſpirit very civill, Neither Poets God, nor Devill, An old Kenelworth Fox, The Ghoſt of Captaine Cox, For which I am the bolder, To weare a Cock on each ſhoulder. This Captaine Cox, by St. Mary, Was at Bullen with King Hary; And (if ſome doe not vary) Had a goodly library, By which he was diſcerned To be one of the learned To entertaine the Queene here, When laſt ſhe was ſeene here. And for the Towne of Coventrie To act to her ſoveraigntie. But ſo his lot fell out, That ſerving then afoot, And being a little man; When the skirmiſh began 'Twixt the Saxon, and the Dane, (For thence the ſtorie was tane) Hee was not ſo well ſeene As he would have beene o'the Queene. Though this ſword were twice ſo long As any mans elſe in the throng And for his ſake, the Play Was call'd for the ſecond day. But he made a vow (And he performes it now) That were he alive, or dead, Hereafter, it ſhould never be ſed But Cap. Cox would ſerve on horſe For better or for worſe, If any Prince came hither. And his horſe ſhould have a feather Nay, ſuch a Prince it might be Perhaps he ſhould have three. Now, Sir (in your approach The rumbling of your Coach Awaking me, (his Ghoſt) I come to play your Hoſt; And feaſt your eyes and eares, Neither with Dogs, nor Beares, Though that have beene a fit Of our maine-ſhire wit, In times heretofore, But now, we have got a little more. Theſe then that we preſent With a moſt loyall intent And (as the Author ſaith) No ill meaning to the Catholique faith, Are not ſo much beaſts, as Fowles, But a very Neſt of Owles, And naturall, ſo thrive I, I found them in the Ivy, A thing, that though I blundred at, It may in time be wondred at, If the place but affords Any ſtore of lucky birds, As I make'em to fluſh Each Owle out of his buſh. Now, theſe Owles (ſome ſay) were men, And they may be ſo agen, If once they endure the light Of your highneſſe ſight: For Bank-rupts, we have knowne Riſe to more then their owne. With a little-little ſavour Of the Princes favour, But, as you like their tricks, I'le ſpring'em, they are but ſix. Hey, Owle firſt.