Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T25: feare, kings, power, princes, lawes, loue, state, downe, honor, men.
Rossa! Take heede. Your Honors, like Kings humors, brittle are, Which broken once, repayr'd can hardly be; And these once stain'd, what is Humanity? Rossa! first iudge your Ends, and then your Meanes. You seeke to vndermine a Princes State, Deepe rooted in by Time, Power, Reuerence; Establish'd on Succession fortunate Of many Turks: from men that seruile be, Vse hauing lost the vse of Libertie. I vnderstand a Monarchs State too well, To bid you purchase Peoples idle breath, That haue no power of Honor, Life, or Death: These wayes are wrong, vncertaine, fearefull too, In absolutes, which all themselues will doe. But turne your eyes vp to the will of one; Know you must worke a Father from his Sonne. This Parents dotage, as it weakenesse is, So workes it with the vigor of disease, Still vndermining with the things that please. Vpon this Quick-sand what can be begunne? Sonnes loue with selfe-loue must be ouerthrowne By force of Natures law there's nothing wonne. Strifes in the Fathers minde you must beget, And him aboue his sweet affections beare, To take impressions both of hope, and feare. Those silly natures apt to louingnesse, Which euer must in others power liue, With Doubt become more fond, with Wrong more thral: Feare here wants eyes, Hate hath no sting at all. All these false Strengths of natiue Confidence, With their Excesse, haue their Inconstancie: The lawes of Kinde, with Tyrants, nothing be. Besides, deare Rossa! Ills haue such alliance, As in what subiect any one is growne, The seeds of all, euen in that one, are sowne. This masse of Passions who can deale withall? Too nice, and subtile is Inconstancy. Shall Wrong faire-written still in Patience be? Must my desire so many Cautions haue, And waite on those thoughts that haue worshipt me? I cannot beare this Mediocrity. Rossa! Take heed. Extreames are not the meanes, To change Estates, either in good, or ill. Therefore yeeld not; since that makes Nature lesse: Nor yet vse Rage, which vainely driueth on The minde to working without instruments: Besides, it doth make partiall our intents, Discredits Truth, condemnes indifferent things. But take vpon you quiet Prouidence, The Princes State, with his Authority; Teach Power to doubt; for Doubt is her defence. Degrees of Passions, as of Spirits there be; Choose now for Vse, and not for Dignity. Loue spreads the wit to play, but not to arme, Hath many feet to walke an easie pace, Slow to mistrust, and neuer apt to harme: But feare of Credit is within the minde, Strength'ned by Nature with the strength of all; In Men, and Tyrants states both, naturall. The Proiect of this feare must yet be made The Princes safety, Honor of the State: Such glorious Stiles may easily ouershade The wayes of Spite; for Treason is in hate. Flattery straight speakes aloud in Powers right, Carrying things vnder names, Truth vnder might. " Who dare distinguish in a Tyrannie, Where fraud it selfe hath Powers authority?
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)
Rossa! Take heede. Your Honors, like Kings humors, brittle are, Which broken once, repayr'd can hardly be; And these once stain'd, what is Humanity? Rossa! first iudge your Ends, and then your Meanes. You seeke to vndermine a Princes State, Deepe rooted in by Time, Power, Reuerence; Establish'd on Succession fortunate Of many Turks: from men that seruile be, Vse hauing lost the vse of Libertie. I vnderstand a Monarchs State too well, To bid you purchase Peoples idle breath, That haue no power of Honor, Life, or Death: These wayes are wrong, vncertaine, fearefull too, In absolutes, which all themselues will doe. But turne your eyes vp to the will of one; Know you must worke a Father from his Sonne. This Parents dotage, as it weakenesse is, So workes it with the vigor of disease, Still vndermining with the things that please. Vpon this Quick-sand what can be begunne? Sonnes loue with selfe-loue must be ouerthrowne By force of Natures law there's nothing wonne. Strifes in the Fathers minde you must beget, And him aboue his sweet affections beare, To take impressions both of hope, and feare. Those silly natures apt to louingnesse, Which euer must in others power liue, With Doubt become more fond, with Wrong more thral: Feare here wants eyes, Hate hath no sting at all. All these false Strengths of natiue Confidence, With their Excesse, haue their Inconstancie: The lawes of Kinde, with Tyrants, nothing be. Besides, deare Rossa! Ills haue such alliance, As in what subiect any one is growne, The seeds of all, euen in that one, are sowne. This masse of Passions who can deale withall? Too nice, and subtile is Inconstancy. Shall Wrong faire-written still in Patience be? Must my desire so many Cautions haue, And waite on those thoughts that haue worshipt me? I cannot beare this Mediocrity. Rossa! Take heed. Extreames are not the meanes, To change Estates, either in good, or ill. Therefore yeeld not; since that makes Nature lesse: Nor yet vse Rage, which vainely driueth on The minde to working without instruments: Besides, it doth make partiall our intents, Discredits Truth, condemnes indifferent things. But take vpon you quiet Prouidence, The Princes State, with his Authority; Teach Power to doubt; for Doubt is her defence. Degrees of Passions, as of Spirits there be; Choose now for Vse, and not for Dignity. Loue spreads the wit to play, but not to arme, Hath many feet to walke an easie pace, Slow to mistrust, and neuer apt to harme: But feare of Credit is within the minde, Strength'ned by Nature with the strength of all; In Men, and Tyrants states both, naturall. The Proiect of this feare must yet be made The Princes safety, Honor of the State: Such glorious Stiles may easily ouershade The wayes of Spite; for Treason is in hate. Flattery straight speakes aloud in Powers right, Carrying things vnder names, Truth vnder might. " Who dare distinguish in a Tyrannie, " Where fraud it selfe hath Powers authority?