Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T14: prince, princess, love, king, lord, queen, madam, grace, lady, life.
Not angry Ida, but I teach this knave, How to behave himself among his betters: Behold fair Countess to assure your stay, I here present the signet of the king, Who now by me fair Ida doth salute you: And since in secret I have certain things, In his behalf good madam to impart, I crave your daughter to discourse a part. She shall in humble duty be addressed, To do his highness will in what she may. Now gentle sir what would his grace with me? Fair comely Nymph, the beauty of your face, Sufficient to bewitch the heavenly powers, Hath wrought so much in him, that now of late He finds himself made captive unto love, And though his power and Majesty requires, A straight command before an humble suit, Yet he his mightiness doth so abase, As to entreat your favour honest maid. Is he not married sir unto our Queen? He is. And are not they by God accursed, That sever them whom he hath knit in one? They be: what then? we seek not to displace The Princess from her seat, but since by love The king is made your own, she is resolved In private to accept your dalliance, In spite of war, watch, or worldly eye. Oh how he talks as if he should not die, As if that God in justice once could wink, Upon that fault I am ashamed to think. Tut Mistress, man at first was born to err, Women are all not formed to be Saints: 'tis impious for to kill our native king, Whom by a little favour we may save. Better then live unchaste, to live in grave. He shall erect your state & wed you well. But can his warrant keep my soul from hell? He will enforce, if you resist his suit. What tho, the world may shame to him account To be a king of men and worldly pelf. Yet hath to power no rule and guide himself, I know you gentle Lady and the care, Both of your honour and his grace's health, Makes me confused in this dangerous state. So counsel him, but soothe thou not his sin, 'tis vain allurement that doth make him love, I shame to hear, be you a shamed to move, I see my daughter grows impatient, I fear me he pretends some bad intent. Will you despise the king, & scorn him so? In all allegiance I will serve his grace, But not in lust, oh how I blush to name it? An endless work is this, how should I frame it? Oh Mistress may I turn a word upon you. Friend what wilt thou? Oh what a happy Gentlewoman be you truly, the world reports this of you Mistress, that a man can no sooner come to your house, but the Butler comes with a black Iack and says welcome friend, here's a cup of the best for you, verily Mistress you are said to have the best Ale in all Scotland.
seed 43: T14 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Not angrie Ida, but I teach this knaue, How to behaue himselfe among his betters: Behold faire Countesse to assure your stay, I heere present the signet of the king, Who now by mee faire Ida doth salute you: And since in secret I haue certaine things, In his behalfe good Madame to impart, I craue your daughter to discourse a part. Shee shall in humble dutie bee addrest, To do his Highnesse will in what shee may. Now gentle sir what would his grace with me? Faire comely Nimph, the beautie of your face, Sufficient to bewitch the heauenly powers, Hath wrought so much in him, that now of late Hee findes himselfe made captiue vnto loue, And though his power and Maiestie requires, A straight commaund before an humble sute, Yet hee his mightinesse doth so abase, As to intreat your fauour honest maid. Is hee not married sir vnto our Queen? Hee is. And are not they by God accurst, That seuer them whom hee hath knit in one? They bee: what then? wee seeke not to displace The Princesse from her seate, but since by loue The king is made your owne, shee is resolude In priuate to accept your dalliance, In spight of warre, watch, or worldly eye. Oh how hee talkes as if hee should not die, As if that God in iustice once could winke, Vpon that fault I am a sham'd to thinke. Tut Mistresse, man at first was born to erre, Women are all not formed to bee Saints: Tis impious for to kill our natiue king, Whom by a little fauour wee may saue. Better then liue vnchaste, to liue in graue. Hee shall erect your state & wed you well. But can his warrant keep my soule from hell? He will inforce, if you resist his sute. What tho, the world may shame to him account To bee a king of men and worldly pelfe. Yet hath to power no rule and guide himselfe, I know you gentle Ladie and the care, Both of your honour and his graces health, Makes me confused in this daungerous state. So counsell him, but sooth thou not his sinne, Tis vaine alurement that doth make him loue, I shame to heare, bee you a shamde to mooue, I see my daughter growes impatient, I feare me hee pretends some bad intent. Will you dispise the king, & scorne him so? In all alleageance I will serue his grace, But not in lust, oh how I blush to name it? An endlesse worke is this, how should I frame it? Oh Mistresse may I turne a word vpon you. Friend what wilt thou? Oh what a happie Gentlewoman bee you trulie, the world reports this of you Mistresse, that a man can no sooner come to your house, but the Butler comes with a blacke Iack and sayes welcome friend, he eres a cup of the best for you, verilie Mistresse you are said to haue the best Ale in al Scotland.