Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
He was well marked by one that had not spared No kind of danger for to make us thralls, For Cyrus had proposed a great reward To any one that first could scale our walls. And this companion seeing without stay, One in his sight that craggy passage climb, Straight followed on his footsteps all the way, And many a thousand followed after him. By whom all those that durst resist were killed, The rest were forced, and knew not where to flee: For every street was with confusion filled, There was no corner from some mischief free. O what a piteous clamour did arise, Of ravished virgins, and of widowed wives! Who pierced the heavens with lamentable cries, And having lost all comfort, loathed their lives. Whilst those proud Victor's did insist t'have stained Themselves with all the wrongs that such like use, They by a charge from Cyrus were restrained, And durst no more their captives thus abuse. No doubt but desolation then abounded, Whilst with disdain the Conqueror's bosom boiled, Some with the sword, some with disgrace confounded, Sacred Temples, private houses, all were spoiled. None can imagine greater misery Than all the sufferings of a captived City. But whilst this famous City was distressed, What could become of the hard-fortuned King? He seeing th'enemy of his State possessed, And that confusion seized on every thing, Stood first amazed, scarce trusting his own sight, His former fortune had him so transported, Yet it is hard for to deny the light, He saw a stranger that his wealth extorted. And when that he had deeply apprehended Th'unbounded horrors that o'erflowed his soul, As one whose joys had long before been ended, He could no more the signs of grief control. But bursting out in bitter sighs and tears, Plunged in the deepest depth of black despair, Through o'er great fear, leaving all kind of fears, Did of his safety take no further care, And never wished he so for a long life, But he o'erwished it, wishing for death now, Still seeking danger in the bounds of strife, Providing that he dyde, he cared not how. Whilst thus he fostered furies in his breast, A certain soldier by the way him meets, As insolent as any of the rest, That drunk with blood, ran raging through the streets: And seeking but an object to his ire, He made to him, and he to him again, I wot not which of them did most desire, Th'one for to slay, or th'other to be slain. But whilst so base a hand towering aloft, Did to so great a Monarch threaten death, His eldest Son, that as you have heard oft, Was barred from the right function of his breath. I cannot tell you well, nor in what fashion, If that the destinies had so ordained, Or if the vehemency of his passion Did break the strings that had his tongue restrained.
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)
He was well markt by one that had not ſpard No kind of danger for to make vs thralles, For Cyrus had propoſde a great reward To any one that firſt could ſcale our walles. And this companion ſeeing without ſtay, One in his ſight that craggie paſſage clim, Straight followd on his footſteps all the way, And many a thouſand followd after him. By whom all thoſe that durſt reſiſt were killd, The reſt were forc'd, and knew not where to flee: For euery ſtreet was with confuſion filld, There was no corner from ſome miſchiefe free. O what a piteous clamour did ariſe, Of rauiſht virgins, and of widowd wiues! Who pierc'd the heau'ns with lamentable cries, And hauing loſt all comfort, loathd their liues. Whilſt thoſe prowd Victors did inſiſt t'haue ſtaind Themſelues with all the wrongs that ſuch like vſe, They by a charge from Cyrus were reſtraind, And durſt no more their captiues thus abuſe. No doubt but deſolation then abounded, Whilſt with diſdaine the Conqu'rors boſom boylde, Some with the ſword, ſome with diſgrace confounded, Sacred Temples, priuate houſes, all were ſpoylde. None can imagine greater miſerie Then all the ſuffrings of a captiu'd Citie. But whilſt this famous Citie was diſtreſſed, What could become of the hard-fortun'd King? He ſeeing th'enemie of his State poſſeſſed, And that confuſion ſeazde on euery thing, Stood firſt amazd, ſcarſe truſting his owne ſight, His former fortune had him ſo tranſported, Yet it is hard for to deny the light, He ſaw a ſtranger that his wealth extorted. And when that he had deepely apprehended Th'vnbounded horrors that o'reflow'd his ſoule, As one whoſe Ioyes had long before been ended, He could no more the ſignes of griefe controule. But burſting out in bitter ſighs and teares, Plungde in the deepeſt depth of blacke deſpaire, Through o're great feare, leauing all kind of feares, Did of his ſafetie take no further care, And neuer wiſht he ſo for a long life, But he o're-wiſht it, wiſhing for death now, Still ſeeking danger in the bounds of ſtrife, Prouiding that he dyde, he car'd not how. Whilſt thus he foſtred furies in his breaſt, A certaine ſouldier by the way him meetes, As inſolent as any of the reſt, That drunke with blood, ran raging through the ſtreetes: And ſeeking but an obiect to his ire, He made to him, and he to him againe, I wot not which of them did moſt deſire, Th'one for to ſlay, or th'other to be ſlaine. But whilſt ſo baſe a hand towring aloft, Did to ſo great a Monarch threaten death, His eldeſt Sonne, that as you haue heard oft, Was barrd from the right function of his breath. I cannot tell you well, nor in what faſhion, If that the deſtinies had ſo ordaind, Or if the vehemency of his paſſion Did breake the ſtrings that had his tongue reſtraind.