Nashe, Thomas · published 1600 · first performed or written 1592 (Annals) comedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 476 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
A couple of pretty boys, if they would wash their faces, and were well breeched an hour or two. The rest of the green men have reasonable voices, good to sing catches, or the great jowben by the fire's side, in a winter's evening. But let us hear what Summer can say for himself, why he should not be hissed at. What pleasure alway lasts: no joy endures: Summer I was, I am not as I was: Harvest and age have whitened my green head: On Autumn now and Winter must I lean. Needs must he fall, whom none but foes uphold. Thus must the happiest man have his black day. Omnibus una manes nox, & calcanda semel via laethi. This month have I lain languishing a-bed, Looking each hour to yield my life, and throne; And dyde I had in deed unto the earth, But that Eliza England's beauteous Queen, On whom all seasons prosperously attend, Forbade the execution of my fate, Until her joyful progress was expired. For her doth Summer live, and linger here, And wisheth long to live to her content: But wishes are not had when they wish well. I must depart, my death-day is set down: To these two must I leave my wheaten crown. So unto unthrifts rich men leave their lands, Who in an hour consume long labours gains. True is it that divinest Sidney sung, O, he is marred, that is for others made. Come near, my friends, for I am near my end. In presence of this Honourable train, Who love me (for I patronize their sports) Mean I to make my final Testament: But first I'll call my officers to count, And of the wealth I gave them to dispose, Know what is left. I may know what to give Vertumnus then, that turnst the year about. Summon them one by one to answer me, First Ver, the spring, unto whose custody I have committed more than to the rest: The choice of all my fragrant meads and flowers, And what delights soe'er nature affords. I will, my Lord. Ver, lusty Ver, by the name of lusty Ver, come into the court, lose a mark in issues. Spring, the sweet spring, is the years pleasant King, Than blooms each thing, than maids dance in a ring, Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing, Cuckoo, jug, jug, pu we, to witta woo. The Palm and May make country houses gay. Lambs frisk and play, the shepherd's pipe all day, And we hear aye, birds tune this merry lay, Cuckoo, jug, jug, pu we, to witta woo. The fields breath sweet, the daisies kiss our feet, Young lovers meet, old wives a sunning sit: In every street, these tunes our ears do greet, Cuckoo, jug, jug, pu we, to witta woo. Spring the sweet spring.
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)
A couple of pratty boyes, if they would wash their faces, and were well breecht an houre or two. The rest of the greene men haue reasonable voyces, good to sing catches, or the great Iowben by the fires side, in a winters euening. But let vs heare what Summer can say for himselfe, why hee should not be hist at. What pleasure alway lasts: no ioy endures: Summer I was, I am not as I was: Haruest and age haue whit'ned my greene head: On Autumne now and Winter must I leane. Needs must he fall, whom none but foes vphold. Thus must the happiest man haue his blacke day. Omnibus vna manes nox, & calcanda semel via laethi. This month haue I layne languishing a bed, Looking eche houre to yeeld my life, and throne; And dyde I had in deed vnto the earth, But that Eliza Englands beauteous Queene, On whom all seasons prosperously attend, Forbad the execution of my fate, Vntill her ioyfull progresse was expir'd. For her doth Summer liue, and linger here, And wisheth long to liue to her content: But wishes are not had when they wish well. I must depart, my death-day is set downe: To these two must I leaue my wheaten crowne. So vnto vnthrifts rich men leaue their lands, Who in an houre consume long labours gaynes. True is it that diuinest Sidney sung, O, he is mard, that is for others made. Come neere, my friends, for I am neere my end. In presence of this Honourable trayne, Who loue me (for I patronize their sports) Meane I to make my finall Testament: But first Ile call my officers to count, And of the wealth I gaue them to dispose, Know what is left. I may know what to giue Vertumnus then, that turnst the yere about. Summon them one by one to answere me, First Ver, the spring, vnto whose custody I haue committed more then to the rest: The choyse of all my fragrant meades and flowres, And what delights soe're nature affords. I will, my Lord. Ver, lusty Ver, by the name of lusty Ver, come into the court, lose a marke in issues. Spring, the sweete spring, is the yeres pleasant King, Then bloomes eche thing, then maydes daunce in a ring, Cold doeth not sting, the pretty birds doe sing, Cuckow, iugge, iugge, pu we, to witta woo. The Palme and May make countrey houses gay. Lambs friske and play, the Shep herds pype all day, And we heare aye, birds tune this merry lay, Cuckow, iugge, iugge, pu we, to witta woo. The fields breathe sweete, the dayzies kisse our feete, Young louers meete, old wiues a sunning sit: In euery streete, these tunes our eares doe greete, Cuckow, iugge, iugge, pu we, to witta woo. Spring the sweete spring.