Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
Ah Lady, so would worldly counsel work, But constancy, obedience, and my love, In that my husband is my Lord and chief, These call me to compassion of his estate, Dissuade me not, for virtue will not change, What wondrous constancy is this I hear? If English dames their husband's love so dear, I fear me in the world they have no peer. Come Princes wend, and let us change your weed, I long to see you now a Queen indeed. He would have parley Lords, Herald say he shall, And get thee gone: go leave me to myself: Twixt love and fear, continual is the wars: The one assures me of my Ida's love, The other moves me for my murdered Queen. Thus find I grief of that whereon I joy, And doubt, in greatest hope, and death in weal, Ah lass what hell may be compared with mine, Since in extremes my comforts do consist? War then will cease, when dead ones are revived. Some then will yield, when I am dead for hope. Who doth disturb me? Andrew? I my liege. What news? I think my mouth was made at first, To tell these tragic tales my liefest Lord. What is Ateukin dead, tell me the worst? No but your Ida, shall I tell him all? Is married late (ah shall I say to whom?) My master sad: (for why he shames the Court) Is fled away? ah most unhappy flight. Only myself, ah who can love you more? To show my duty (duty past belief) Am come unto your grace (oh gracious liege) To let you know, oh would it wear not thus, That love is vain, and maids soon lost and won. How have the partial heavens then dealt with me, Boding my weal, for to abase my power? Alas what thronging thoughts do me oppress? Injurious love is partial in my right, And flattering tongues by whom I was misled, Have laid a snare to spoil my state and me. Methinks I hear my Dorothea's ghost, Howling revenge for my accursed hate, The gifts of those my subjects that are slain, Pursue me crying out, woe, woe, to lust, The foe pursues me at my palace door: He breaks my rest and spoils me in my Camp, Ah flattering brood of sycophants my foes, First shall my dire revenge begin on you, I will reward thee Andrew. Nay sir if you be in your deeds of charity, remember me I rubbed M. Ateukins horse heels, when he rid to the meadows. And thou shalt have thy recompense for that. Lords bear them to the prison, chain them fast, Until we take some order for their deaths. If so your grace in such sort give rewards, Let me have nought, I am content to want. Then I pray sir give me all, I am as ready for a reward as an oyster for a fresh tide, spare not me sir. Then hang them both as traitors to the King.
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)
Ah Ladie, so wold worldly counsell work, But constancie, obedience, and my loue, In that my husband is my Lord and chiefe, These call me to compassion of his estate, Disswade me not, for vertue will not change, What woonderous constancie is this I heare? If English dames their husbands loue so deer, I feare me in the world they haue no peere. Come Princes wend, and let vs change your weede, I long to see you now a Queene indeede. He would haue parly Lords, Herauld say he shall, And get thee gone: goe leaue me to my selfe: Twixt loue and feare, continuall is the warres: The one assures me of my Idaes loue, The other moues me for my murthred Queene. Thus finde I greefe of that whereon I ioy, And doubt, in greatest hope, and death in weale, Ah lasse what hell may be compared with mine, Since in extreames my comforts do consist? Warre then will cease, when dead ones are reuiued. Some then will yeelde, when I am dead for hope. Who doth disturbe me? Andrew? I my liege. What newes? I thinke my mouth was made at first, To tell these tragique tales my liefest Lord. What is Ateukin dead, tell me the worst? No but your Ida, shall I tell him all? Is married late (ah shall I say to whom?) My maister sad: (for why he shames the Court) Is fled away? ah most vnhappie flight. Onelie my selfe, ah who can loue you more? To shew my dutie (dutie past beliefe) Am come vnto your grace (oh graticus liege) To let you know, oh would it weare not thus, That loue is vain, and maids soone lost and wonne. How haue the partial heauens thē dealt with me, Boading my weale, for to abase my power? Alas what thronging thoughts do me oppresse? Iniurious loue is partiall in my right, And flattering tongues by whom I was misled, Haue laid a snare to spoyle my state and me. Methinkes I heare my Dorotheas goast, Howling reuenge for my accursed hate, The gifts of those my subiects that are slaine, Pursue me crying out, woe, woe, to lust, The foe pursues me at my pallace doore: He breakes my rest and spoyles me in my Camp, Ah flattering broode of Sicophants my foes, First shall my dire reuenge begin on you, I will reward thee Andrew. Nay sir if you be in your deeds of charitie, remember me I rubd M. Ateukins horse heeles, when he rid to the medowes. And thou shalt haue thy recompence for that. Lords beare them to the prison, chaine them fast, Vntil we take some order for their deathes. If so your grace in such sort giue rewards, Let me haue nought, I am content to want. Then I pray sir giue me all, I am as ready for a reward as an oyster for a fresh tide, spare not me sir. Then hang them both as traitors to the King.