Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
Oh good sir Bartram, you suspect I love, Then were I mad, he whom I never saw, But howsoe'er, I fear not enticings, Desire will give no place unto a king: I'll see her whom the world admires so much, That I may say with them, there lives none such. Be Gad and sal, both see and talk with her, And when thouhast done, whate'er her beauty be, I'll warrant thee her virtues may compare, With the proudest she that wars upon your Queen. My Lady entreats your Worship in to supper. Guid bony Dick, my wife will tell thee more, Was never no man in her book before: Be Gad she's blithe, fair jewelly, bony, etc. Be Gad gramersis little king for this, This sport is better in my exile life, Then ever the deceitful world could yield. I tell thee Bohan, Oberon is king, Of quiet, pleasure, profit, and content, Of wealth, of honour, and of all the world, Tide to no place, yet all are tide to one, Live thou in this life, exiled from world and men, And I will show thee wonders ere we part, Then mark my stay, and the strange doubts, That follow flatterers, lust and lawless will, And then say I have reason to forsake the world, And all that are within the same. go shroud us in our harbour where we'll see, The pride of folly, as it ought to be. Here see I good fond actions in thy jig, And means to paint the worlds in constant ways But turn thine e'en, see which for I can command. What gars this din of mink and baleful harm, Where every wean is all betaint with blood? This shows thee Bohan what is worldly pomp. Simeranus, the proud Assyrian Queen, When Ninus died, did tene in her wars, Three millions of footmen to the fight, Five hundredth thousand horse, of armed chars, A hundredth thousand more yet in her pride Was hurt and conquered by S. Tanrobates. Then what is pomp? I see thou art thine e'en. Thou bonny King, if Princes fall from high, My fall is past, until I fall to die. Now mark my talk, and prosecute my jig. How should these crafts withdraw thee from the world! But look my Bohan, pomp allureth. What meaneth this? Cirus of Persia, Mighty in life, within a marble grave, Was laid to rot, whom Alexander once Beheld in, and weeping did confess Nothing in life could scape from wretchedness: Why then boast men? What reck I then of life, Who makes the grave my tomb, the earth my wife: But mark me more. I can no more, my patience will not warp. To see these flatteries how they scorn and carp. Turn but thy head. Sike is the world, but whilk is he I saw. Sesostris who was conqueror of the world, Slain at the last, and stamped on by his slaves. How blessed are poor men than that know their grave, Now mark the sequel of my Gig.
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)
Oh good sir Bartram, you suspect I loue, Then were I mad, hee whom I neuer sawe, But how so ere, I feare not entisings, Desire will giue no place vnto a king: Ile see her whom the world admires so much, That I may say with them, there liues none such. Be Gad and sal, both see and talke with her, And when th'hast done, what ere her beautie be, Ile wartant thee her vertues may compare, With the proudest she that was vpon your Queen. My Ladie intreats your Worship in to supper. Guid bony Dick, my wife will tel thee more, Was neuer no man in her booke before: Be Gad shees blyth, faire lewely, bony, &c. Be Gad gramersis little king for this, This sport is better in my exile life, Then euer the deceitful werld could yeeld. I tell thee Bohan, Oberon is king, Of quiet, pleasure, profit, and content, Of wealth, of honor, and of all the world, Tide to no place, yet all are tide to one, Liue thou in this life, exilde from world and men, And I will shew thee wonters ere we part, Then marke my stay, and the strange doubts, That follow flatterers, lust and lawlesse will, And then say I haue reason to forsake the world, And all that are within the same. Gow shrowd vs in our harbor where we ele see, The pride of folly, as it ought to be. Here see I good fond actions in thy gyg, And meanes to paint the worldes in constant waies But turne thine ene, see which for I can command. What gas this din of mink and balefull harme, Where euery weane is all betaint with bloud? This shewes thee Bohan what is worldly pompe. Simeranus, the proud Affirrian Queene, When Ninus died, did tene in her warres, Three millions of footemen to the fight, Fiue hundreth thousand horse, of armed chars, A hundreth thousand more yet in her pride Was hurt and conquered by S. Tanrobates. Then what is pompe? I see thou art thine ene. Thou bonny King, if Princes fall from high, My fall is past, vntill I fall to die. Now marke my talke, and prosecute my gyg. How shuld these crafts withdraw thee from the world! But looke my Bohan, pompe allureth. What meaneth this? Cirus of Persia, Mightie in life, within a marbell graue, Was layde to rot, whom Alexander once Beheld in tombde, and weeping did confesse Nothing in life could scape from wrethednesse: Why then boast men? What recke I then of life, Who makes the graue my tomb, the earth my wife: But marke mee more. I can no more, my patience will not warpe. To see these flatteries how they scorne and carpe. Turne but thy head. Sike is the werld, but whilke is he I sawe. Sesustris who was conquerour of the werld, Slaine at the last, and stampt on by his slaues. How blest are peur men then that know their graue, Now marke the sequell of my Gig.