Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T25: feare, kings, power, princes, lawes, loue, state, downe, honor, men.
His foot on land, straight to the Church he goes; Applause, and wonder follow to that place, Greater he, by your Influence, still growes, Your Trophies vpon him the people place. Vnto the State men prophecy progression, And see your age, 'tis true, in your Succession. Your Power, and Loue both, in his Pompe appeare; For euen the Bassha's next you I did meet Hastning to honor him, whom you hold deare. What greater Triumph to a glorious Father, Than such a Sonne for age to leane vnto, Whence declination may more forces gather, And impotence retaine ability to doe? Goodnesse exiling iealousie of State, From him whose dutie sets his power a rate. Now by the way a paper vp I tooke, Spread by the Mufti, as it should appeare, Fore-telling with authority of booke, What those times wrap'd in clouds, and these make cleare. Wherein these Prophet-spirits did foreshow The progresse of this Empire to the heighth; Vnder what Princes humors it should grow, Vnder whose weakenesse fall againe by weight: Inferring this; that where declining spirits To governe mighty Scepters God ordaines, Order no Basis findes; Honor must fall: Where man is nothing, Place cannot doe all. Againe where worth, and wisdome soueraigne be, And he that's King of Place, is King of Men, Change, Chance, or Ruine cannot enter then. And such a King must sit vpon this Throne; Vnperfect times (they say) are fully runne, And this perfection present in your Sonne. Change hath prepar'd her moulds for Innouation. I see inferior wheeles of practice moue, Yet they preuaile not on the Powers aboue. His worth rests constant, and yet works this motion, They to him, for him, sacrifice at randome All which they haue, and haue not, in deuotion. He is the Glasse, in which their light affections Come to behold what image they shall take: If libertie they finde, then Anarchie they make. On time, place, truth, these spirits neuer rest. His worth, thus innocent, how can I feare? Their thoughts, thus violent, can Power digest? Then Gouernment! thy hand must cut betweene My fearefull dangers, and his fearelesse praise. In all States, Power, which oppresseth spir●●s, Imprisons Nature, Empire disinherits. This Throne grew not by delicate alliance, Combining State with State, all States to Lawes, Of idle Princes, and base subiects cause. We grew by curious improuing all; Our selues to people, people vnto vs; Worth, through our selues, in them we planted thus. And shall I helpe to make succession lesse, Blasting the births of Nature and Example, In narrow feares of selfe-vnworthinesse? No, No: The art of Monarchie is more: Princes must strength by such succession gather, With future hopes all present smarts are eased; Age hath a veyle, and Maiestie is pleased. Who makes, can marre. Honor, reward, and feare, Are reynes of Power: The ends inherent there. Behold! I stand amaz'd: Sir! ease my heart. A King lesse than a man! more than a God! I know not where to stay, nor how to part. God hath ordain'd that wickednesse shall die: Sir! who is guiltie? Mustapha, or I?
seed 43: T25 · seed 44: T6 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
His foot on land, straight to the Church he goes; Applause, and wonder follow to that place, Greater he, by your Influence, still growes, Your Trophies vpon him the people place. Vnto the State men prophecy progression, And see your age, 'tis true, in your Succession. Your Power, and Loue both, in his Pompe appeare; For euen the Bassha's next you I did meet Hastning to honor him, whom you hold deare. What greater Triumph to a glorious Father, Than such a Sonne for age to leane vnto, Whence declination may more forces gather, And impotence retaine ability to doe? Goodnesse exiling iealousie of State, From him whose dutie sets his power a rate. Now by the way a paper vp I tooke, Spread by the Mufti, as it should appeare, Fore-telling with authority of booke, What those times wrap'd in clouds, and these make cleare. Wherein these Prophet-spirits did foreshow The progresse of this Empire to the heighth; Vnder what Princes humors it should grow, Vnder whose weakenesse fall againe by weight: Inferring this; that where declining spirits To governe mighty Scepters God ordaines, Order no Basis findes; Honor must fall: Where man is nothing, Place cannot doe all. Againe where worth, and wisdome soueraigne be, And he that's King of Place, is King of Men, Change, Chance, or Ruine cannot enter then. And such a King must sit vpon this Throne; Vnperfect times (they say) are fully runne, And this perfection present in your Sonne. Change hath prepar'd her moulds for Innouation. I see inferior wheeles of practice moue, Yet they preuaile not on the Powers aboue. His worth rests constant, and yet works this motion, They to him, for him, sacrifice at randome All which they haue, and haue not, in deuotion. He is the Glasse, in which their light affections Come to behold what image they shall take: If libertie they finde, then Anarchie they make. On time, place, truth, these spirits neuer rest. His worth, thus innocent, how can I feare? Their thoughts, thus violent, can Power digest? Then Gouernment! thy hand must cut betweene My fearefull dangers, and his fearelesse praise. In all States, Power, which oppresseth spirs, Imprisons Nature, Empire disinherits. This Throne grew not by delicate alliance, Combining State with State, all States to Lawes, Of idle Princes, and base subiects cause. We grew by curious improuing all; Our selues to people, people vnto vs; Worth, through our selues, in them we planted thus. And shall I helpe to make succession lesse, Blasting the births of Nature and Example, In narrow feares of selfe-vnworthinesse? No, No: The art of Monarchie is more: Princes must strength by such succession gather, With future hopes all present smarts are eased; Age hath a veyle, and Maiestie is pleased. Who makes, can marre. Honor, reward, and feare, Are reynes of Power: The ends inherent there. Behold! I stand amaz'd: Sir! ease my heart. A King lesse than a man! more than a God! I know not where to stay, nor how to part. God hath ordain'd that wickednesse shall die: Sir! who is guiltie? Mustapha, or I?