Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T58: jack, john, daw, dauphine, amorous, mistress, trve, ladies, wit, madame.
My liege, what cravest thou at thy vassals hands? Hypocrisy, how it can change his shape! How base is pride from his own dunghill put? How I have raised thee, Sol, I list not tell, Out of the Ocean of adversity, To sit in height of honours glorious heaven, To be the eyesore of aspiring eyes, To give the day her life, from thy bright looks, And let nought thrive upon the face of earth, From which thou shalt withdraw thy powerful smiles. What hast thou done deserving such high grace? What industry, or meritorious toil, Canst thou produce, to prove my gift well placed? Some service, or some profit I expect: None is promoted but for some respect. My Lord, what needs these terms betwixt us two? Upbraiding, ill beseems your bounteous mind: I do you honour for advancing me. Why, 'tis a credit for your excellence, To have so great a subject as I am: This is your glory and magnificence, That without stooping of your mightiness, Or taking any whit from your high state, You can make one as mighty as yourself. O arrogance exceeding all belief! Summer my Lord, this saucy upstart Jack, That now doth rule the chariot of the Sun, And makes all stars derive their light from him, Is a most base insinuating slave, The son of parsimony, and disdain, One that will shine, on friends and foes alike, That under brightest smiles, hideth black showers: Whose envious breath doth dry up springs and lakes, And burns the grass, that beasts can get no food. No dunghill hath so wild an excrement, But with his beams he will forth with exhale: The fens and quagmires tithe to him their filth: Forth purest mines he sucks a gainful dross: Green juy-bushes at the vintner's doors He withers, and devoureth all their sap. Lascivious and intemperate he is. The wrong of Daphne is a well known tale: Each evening he descends to Thetis lap, The while men think he baths him in the sea. O, but when he returneth whence he came, Down to the West, then dawns his deity, Then doubled is the swelling of his looks; He over loads his car with Orient gems, And reins his fiery horses with rich pearl: He terms himself the god of Poetry, And setteth wanton songs unto the Lute. Let him not talk; for he hath words at will, And wit to make the baddest matter good. Bad words, bad wit: oh, where dwells faith or truth? Ill usury my favours reap from thee, Usurping Sol, the hate of heaven and earth. If Envy unconfuted may accuse, Than Innocence must uncondemned die. The name of martyrdom offence hath gained, When fury stopped a froward judges ears. Much I'll not say (much speech much folly shows) What I have done, you gave me leave to do. The excrements you bred, whereon I feed, To rid the earth of their contagious fumes; With such gross carriage did I load my beams, I burned no grass, I dried no springs and lakes: I sucked no mines, I withered no green boughs.
seed 43: T54 · seed 44: T54 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
My liege, what crau'st thou at thy vassals hands? Hypocrisie, how it can change his shape! How base is pride from his owne dunghill put? How I haue rais'd thee, Sol, I list not tell, Out of the Ocean of aduersitie, To sit in height of honors glorious heauen, To be the eye-sore of aspiring eyes, To giue the day her life, from thy bright lookes, And let nought thriue vpon the face of earth, From which thou shalt withdraw thy powerful smiles. What hast thou done deseruing such hie grace? What industrie, or meritorious toyle, Canst thou produce, to proue my gift well plac'de? Some seruice, or some profit I expect: None is promoted but for some respect. My Lord, what needs these termes betwixt vs two? Vpbraiding, ill beseemes your bounteous mind: I do you honour for aduancing me. Why, t'is a credit for your excellence, To haue so great a subiect as I am: This is your glorie and magnificence, That without stouping of your mightinesse, Or taking any whit from your high state, You can make one as mightie as your selfe. O arrogance exceeding all beliefe! Summer my Lord, this sawcie vpstart Iacke, That now doth rule the chariot of the Sunne, And makes all starres deriue their light from him, Is a most base insinuating slaue, The sonne of parsimony, and disdaine, One that will shine, on friends and foes alike, That vnder brightest smiles, hideth blacke showers: Whose enuious breath doth dry vp springs and lakes, And burnes the grasse, that beastes can get no foode. No dunghill hath so vilde an excrement, But with his beames hee will forth with exhale: The fennes and quag-myres tithe to him their filth: Foorth purest mines he suckes a gainefull drosse: Greene Iuy-bushes at the Vintners doores He withers, and deuoureth all their sap. Lasciuious and intemperate he is. The wrong of Daphne is a well knowne tale: Eche euening he descends to Thetis lap, The while men thinke he bathes him in the sea. O, but when he returneth whence he came, Downe to the West, then dawnes his deity, Then doubled is the swelling of his lookes; He ouer loades his carre with Orient gemmes, And reynes his fiery horses with rich pearle: He termes himselfe the god of Poetry, And setteth wanton songs vnto the Lute. Let him not talke; for he hath words at will, And wit to make the baddest matter good. Bad words, bad wit: oh, where dwels faith or truth? Ill vsury my fauours reape from thee, Vsurping Sol, the hate of heauen and earth. If Enuy vnconfuted may accuse, Then Innocence must vncondemned dye. The name of Martyrdome offence hath gaynd, When fury stopt a froward Iudges eares. Much Ile not say (much speech much folly shewes) What I haue done, you gaue me leaue to doe. The excrements you bred, whereon I feede, To rid the earth of their contagious fumes; With such grosse carriage did I loade my beames, I burnt no grasse, I dried no springs and lakes: I suckt no mines, I withered no greene boughes.