Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T25: feare, kings, power, princes, lawes, loue, state, downe, honor, men.
No man commanded is by God to die, As long as he may Persecution flie. To flie hath scorne; it argues Guiltinesse, Inherits Feare, weakely abandons Friends, Giues Tyrants fame, takes Honor from distresse. Death! doe thy worst. Thy greatest paines haue end. Mischiefe is like the Cockatrices eyes; Sees first, and kills; or is seene first; and dies. Flie to thy strength, which makes misfortune vain●. Rossa intends thy ruine: What is she? Seeke in her bowels for thy Father lost: Who can redeeme a King with viler cost? O false, and wicked colours of Desire! Eternall bondage, vnto him that seekes To be possest of all things that he likes! Shall I a Sonne, and Subiect seeme to dare, For any Selfenesse, to set Realmes on fire, Which golden titles to rebellions are? Heli! euen you haue told me, Wealth was giuen The wicked, to corrupt themselues, and others: Greatnesse, and health, to make flesh proud, and cruell. Where, in the good, Sicknesse mowes downe desire; Death glorifies; Misfortune humbles. Since therefore Life is but the throne of Woe, Which sicknesse, paine, desire, and feare inherit, Euer most worth to men of weakest spirit: Shall we, to languish in this brittle Iayle, Seeke, by ill deeds, to shunne ill destinie? And so, for toyes, lose immortalitie? Fatall Necessitie is neuer knowne Vntillit strike: and till that blow become, Who fals, is by false visions ouerthrowne. Blasphemous loue! safe-conduct of the ill! What power hath giuen mans wickednesse such skill? Ah seruile Men! how are your thoughts bewitch'd With hopes, and feares, the price of your subiection, That neither sense, nor time can make you see, The art of Power will leaue you nothing free? Is it in vs to rule a Sultans will? We made them first for good, and not for ill. Our Gods they are, their God remaines aboue. To thinke against annoynted Power is death. To worship Tyrants is no worke of faith. 'Tis rage of Folly that contends with Fate. Yet hazard something to preserue the State. Sedition wounds what should preserued be. To wound Powers humors, keepes their honors free. Admit this true. What sacrifice preuailes? Force the petition is that neuer fayles. Where then is Natures place for innocence? Prosperitie; that neuer makes offence. Hath Destinie no wheeles but meere Occasion? Could East vpon the West else make inuasion? Confusion followes where Obedience leaues. The Tyrant only that euent deceaues. And are the wayes of Truth, and Honor such? Weakenesse doth euer thinke it owes too much. Hath Fame her glorious colours out of feare? What is the world to him that is not there? Tempt me no more. Goodwill is then a paine, When her words beat the heart, and cannot enter. I constant in my counsell doe remaine, And more liues, for my owne life will not venture. My fellowes! rest. Our Alcoran doth binde, That I alone should first my Father finde.
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)
No man commanded is by God to die, As long as he may Persecution flie. To flie hath scorne; it argues Guiltinesse, Inherits Feare, weakely abandons Friends, Giues Tyrants fame, takes Honor from distresse. Death! doe thy worst. Thy greatest paines haue end. Mischiefe is like the Cockatrices eyes; Sees first, and kills; or is seene first; and dies. Flie to thy strength, which makes misfortune vain. Rossa intends thy ruine: What is she? Seeke in her bowels for thy Father lost: Who can redeeme a King with viler cost? O false, and wicked colours of Desire! Eternall bondage, vnto him that seekes To be possest of all things that he likes! Shall I a Sonne, and Subiect seeme to dare, For any Selfenesse, to set Realmes on fire, Which golden titles to rebellions are? Heli! euen you haue told me, Wealth was giuen The wicked, to corrupt themselues, and others: Greatnesse, and health, to make flesh proud, and cruell. Where, in the good, Sicknesse mowes downe desire; Death glorifies; Misfortune humbles. Since therefore Life is but the throne of Woe, Which sicknesse, paine, desire, and feare inherit, Euer most worth to men of weakest spirit: Shall we, to languish in this brittle Iayle, Seeke, by ill deeds, to shunne ill destinie? And so, for toyes, lose immortalitie? Fatall Necessitie is neuer knowne Vntillit strike: and till that blow become, Who fals, is by false visions ouerthrowne. Blasphemous loue! safe-conduct of the ill! What power hath giuen mans wickednesse such skill? Ah seruile Men! how are your thoughts bewitch'd With hopes, and feares, the price of your subiection, That neither sense, nor time can make you see, The art of Power will leaue you nothing free? Is it in vs to rule a Sultans will? We made them first for good, and not for ill. Our Gods they are, their God remaines aboue. To thinke against annoynted Power is death. To worship Tyrants is no worke of faith. 'Tis rage of Folly that contends with Fate. Yet hazard something to preserue the State. Sedition wounds what should preserued be. To wound Powers humors, keepes their honors free. Admit this true. What sacrifice preuailes? Force the petition is that neuer fayles. Where then is Natures place for innocence? Prosperitie; that neuer makes offence. Hath Destinie no wheeles but meere Occasion? Could East vpon the West else make inuasion? Confusion followes where Obedience leaues. The Tyrant only that euent deceaues. And are the wayes of Truth, and Honor such? Weakenesse doth euer thinke it owes too much. Hath Fame her glorious colours out of feare? What is the world to him that is not there? Tempt me no more. Goodwill is then a paine, When her words beat the heart, and cannot enter. I constant in my counsell doe remaine, And more liues, for my owne life will not venture. My fellowes! rest. Our Alcoran doth binde, That I alone should first my Father finde.