Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T35: fool, wit, aristippus, achilles, wise, fools, patroclus, thersites, master, men.
I'll call my servants to account said I? A bad account: worse servants no man hath. Quos credis sides effuge, tutus eris: The proverb I have proved to be too true, Totidem domi hostes habemus, quot servos. And that wise caution of Democritus, Seruns necessaria possessio, non autem dulcis: nowhere fidelity and labour dwells. Hope, young heads count to build on had I wist. Conscience but few respect, all hunt for gain: Except the Camel have his provender Hung at his mouth, he will not travel on. Tiresias to Narcissus promised Much prosperous hap, and many golden days, If of his beauty he no knowledge took. Knowledge breeds pride, pride breedeth discontent. Black discontent, thou urgest to revenge. Revenge opes not her ears to poor men's prayers. That dolt destruction, is she without doubt, That hales her forth and feedeth her with nought. Simplicity and plainness, you I love: Hence double diligence, thou mean'st deceit. Those that now serpent-like creep on the ground, And seem to eat the dust, they crouch so low: If they be disappointed of their prey, Most traitorously will trace their tails and sting. Yea, such as like the Lapwing build their nests In a man's dung, come up by drudgery, Will be the first, that like that foolish bird, Will follow him with yelling and false cries. Well sung a shepherd (that now sleeps in skies) Dumb swains do love, & not vain chattering pies. In mountains Poets say Echo is hid, For her deformity and monstrous shape: Those mountains are the houses of great Lords, Where Scenter with his hundredth voices sounds A hundredth trumps at once with rumor filled: A woman they imagine her to be, Because that sex keeps nothing close they hear: And that's the reason magic writers frame, There are more witches women then of men; For women generally for the most part, Of secrets more desirous of, than men, Which having got, they have no power to hold. In these times had Echoes first fathers lived, No woman, but a man she had been feigned. (Though women yet will want no news to prate.) For men (mean men) the scum & dross of all, Will talk and babble of they know not what, Upbraid, deprave, and taunt, they care not whom: surmises pass for sound approved truths: Familiarity and conference, That were the sinews of societies, Are now for underminings only used, And novel wits, that love none but themselves, Think wisdoms height as falsehood slily couched, Seeking each other to o'erthrow his mate. O friendship, thy old temple is defaced. Embracing every guileful courtesy, Hath overgrown fraud-wanting honesty. Examples live but in the idle schools: Sinon bears all the sway in princes' courts: Sickness, be thou my soul's physician: Bring the Apothecary death with thee. In earth is hell, true hell felicity, Compared with this world the den of wolves. My Lord, you are too passionate without cause. Grieve not for that which cannot be recalled: Is it your servants carelessness you plain? Tullie by one of his own slaves was slain. The husbandman close in his bosom nursed A subtle snake, that after wrought his bane.
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)
Ile call my seruants to account said I? A bad account: worse seruants no man hath. Quos credis sides effuge, tutus eris: The prouerbe I haue prou'd to be too true, Totidem domi hostes habemus, quot seruos. And that wise caution of Democritus, Seruns necessaria possessio, non autem dulcis: No where fidelitie and labour dwels. Hope, yong heads count to build on had I wist. Conscience but few respect, all hunt for gaine: Except the Cammell haue his prouender Hung at his mouth, he will not trauell on. Tyresias to Narcissus promised Much prosperous hap, and many golden daies, If of his beautie he no knowledge tooke. Knowledge breeds pride, pride breedeth discontent. Blacke discontent, thou vrgest to reuenge. Reuenge opes not her eares to poore mens praiers. That dolt destruction, is she without doubt, That hales her foorth and feedeth her with nought. Simplicitie and plainnesse, you I loue: Hence double diligence, thou mean'st deceit. Those that now serpent-like creepe on the ground, And seeme to eate the dust, they crowch so low: If they be disappointed of their pray, Most traiterously will trace their tailes and sting. Yea, such as like the Lapwing build their nests In a mans dung, come vp by drudgerie, Will be the first, that like that foolish bird, Will follow him with yelling and false cries. Well sung a shepheard (that now sleepes in skies) Dumbe swaines do loue, & not vaine chattering pies. In mountaines Poets say Eccho is hid, For her deformitie and monstrous shape: Those mountaines are the houses of great Lords, Where Scenter with his hundreth voices sounds A hundreth trumpes at once with rumor fild: A woman they imagine her to be, Because that sexe keepes nothing close they heare: And that's the reason magicke writers frame, There are more witches women then of men; For women generally for the most part, Of secrets more desirous of, then men, Which hauing got, they haue no powerto hold. In these times had Ecchoes first fathers liu'd, No woman, but a man she had beene faind. (Though women yet will want no newes to prate.) For men (meane men) the skumme & drosse of all, Will talke and babble of they know not what, Vpbraid, depraue, and taunt, they care not whom: Sumises passe for sound approued truthes: Familiaritie and conference, That were the sinewes of societies, Are now for vnderminings onely vsde, And novell wits, that loue none but themselues, Thinke wisedomes height as falshood slily couch't, Seeking each other to o'rethrow his mate. O friendship, thy old temple is defac't. Embrasing euery guilefull curtesie, Hath ouergrowne fraud-wanting honestie. Examples liue but in the idle schooles: Sinon beares all the sway in princes courts: Sicknes, be thou my soules phisition: Bring the Apothecarie death with thee. In earth is hell, true hell felicitie, Compared with this world the den of wolues. My Lord, you are too passionate without cause. Grieue not for that which cannot be recal'd: Is it your seruants carelesnesse you plaine? Tullie by one of his owne slaues was slaine. The husbandman close in his bosome nurst A subtill snake, that after wrought his bane.