Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T12: iupiter, saturn, iuno, venus, gods, mars, earth, titan, love, fair.
Have in a ruffler forth of the greke land Called Thersites, if ye will me know aback, give me room, in my way do ye not stand For if ye do, I will soon lay you low In Homer of my acts ye have red I trow Neither Agamenon nor Ulysses, I spared to check They could not bring me to be at their beck Of late from the siege of Troy I returned Where all my harness except this club I lost In an old house there it was quite burned While I was preparing victuals for the host I must needs get me new, what so everit cost I Will go seek adventures, for I cannot be idle I will hamper some of the knaves in a bridle It grieveth me to hear how the knaves do brag But by supreme Iupiter, when I am harnessed well I shall make the dasters to run in to a bag To hide them fro me, as from the devil of hell I doubt not but hereafter, of me ye shall hear tell How I have made the knaves for to play couch quail But now to the shop of Mulciber, to go I will not fail Mulciber must have a shop made in the place and Thersites cometh before it saying a loud Mulciber, whom the poets doth call the god of fire Smith unto Iupiter king over all Come forth, of thy office I the desire and grant me my petiction, I ask a thing but small I will none of thy lightning, that thou art wont to make for the god's supernal for ire when they do shake With which they thrust the giants down to hell That were at a convention heaven to buy and sell But I would have some help of Lemnos and Ilua That of their steel, by thy craft, condatur nuhi galea. What fellow Thersites, do ye speak latin now? Nay, then farewell, I make god a vow I do not you understand, no latin is in my palet And then he must do as he would go away. I say abide good Mulciber, I pray thou make me a salad Why Thersites hast thou any wit in thy head? wouldest thou have a salad now, all the herbs are dead Beside that it is not meet for a smith gather herbs and sallettes to meddle with Go get the to my lover venus She hath sallettes enough for all us I eat none such sallettes for now I wax old and for my stomach they are very could Now I pray to Iupiter that thou die a cuckold I mean a salad with which men do fight It is a small tasting of a man's might That he should for any matter Fight with a few herbs in a platter No great laud should follow that victory
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T22 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
HAue in a ruffler foorth of the greke lande Called Thersites, if ye wyll me knowe abacke, geue me roume, in my way do ye not stand For if ye do, I wyll soone laye you lowe In Homere of my actes ye haue red I trow Neyther Agamenon nor Ulysses, I spared to checke They coulde not bringe me to be at theyr becke Of late frome the sege of Troye I retourned Where all my harnes excepte this clubbe I lost In an olde house there it was quyte burned Whyle I was preparinge vytayles for the hoste I must nedes get me newe, what so euerit cost I Wyll go seke aduentures, for I cannot be ydle I wyll hamper some of the knaues in a brydle It greueth me to heare howe the knaues do bragge But by supreme Iupiter, when I am harnessed well I shall make the dasters to renne in to a bagge To hyde them fro me, as from the deuyll of hell I doubte not but hereafter, of me ye shall heare tell Howe I haue made the knaues for to play cowch quaile But nowe to the shop of Mulciber, to go I wyll not faile Mulciber must haue a shop made in the place and Thersites cōmethe before it sayinge a loude Mulciber, whom the Poetes doth call the god of fyer Smith vnto Iupiter kinge ouer all Come foorth, of thy office I the desyre and graunte me my petiction, I aske a thinge but small I wyl none of thy lightning, that thou art wont to make for the goddes supernall for yre when they do shake With whiche they thruste the gyauntes downe to hell That were at a conuention heauen to bye and sell But I woulde haue some helpe of Lemnos and Ilua That of theyr stele, by thy crafte, condatur nuhi galea. ¶ What felowe Thersites, do ye speake latyn nowe? Nay, then farewell, I make god a vowe I do not you vnderstande, no latyn is in my palet And then he must do as he wolde go awaye. I say abyde good Mulciber, I pray yu make me a sallet ¶ Why Thersites hast thou anye wytte in thy head? Woldest thou haue a sallet nowe, all the herbes are dead Besyde that it is not mete for a smyth To gether herbes and sallettes to medle with Go get the to my louer venus She hath sallettes ynough for all vs I eate none suche sallettes for now I waxe olde and for my stomacke they are verye coulde ¶ Nowe I praye to Iupiter that thou dye a cuckolde I meane a sallet with whiche men do fyght ¶ It is a small tastinge of a mannes mighte That he shoulde for any matter Fyght with a fewe herbes in a platter No greate laude shoulde folowe that victorye