Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T25: feare, kings, power, princes, lawes, loue, state, downe, honor, men.
THe chiefest point of king's felicity, Some subjects do esteem Authority. we are above, the Potentates of earth Be unacquainted with high blood and birth. We do transcend supremacy of Kings, Account them (as they are) most mortal things. Subject to putrefaction, to disease, To folly; which no physic may appease. Yet they do magnify themselves alone, Their haughty stomachs do acknowledge none Above; who may such dignity surmount: Of power supreme as fables they account. My Godhead may with privilege complaint Of Sparta; whose proud factious Kings refrain By wicked council, from due sacrifice At my religious Altar: they suffice To render duty in Olympics once, And rob me of antique oblations: Which we ascribe unto the base repute They do conceive of our Divinity, My Temple's honour and supremacy. To Matrons (Bawds and Widows) they translate To service of weak women dedicate My whole predominance; they do exempt Man's homage, and believe my power of change Extends no further than the female sex. This new-conceited error I'll refute, I'll manifest how far compulsive change Doth oversway proud man; I'll execute The rigor of my vengeance: dreadful awe Gods do obtain by a corrective law. And thus will I restore that holiness, Which they extinguish through bold sauciness: Mortals contemn the maker's deity, Until his wrath scourge their impiety. Nature acquainted well with indigence, Defining (in itself) our impotence, Liable to corruption general, Shows, nothing doth endure that's natural: Stern death no pity takes on hallowed age, Upon the sucking babe, whose harmless twine, Tenderly hangs about the nurse's neck, Never did old men's holy tears obtain, Never did death from Innocents refrain. The slave who smothers in obscurity His hated life; who never did account Of rising Sun, eclipse, and prodigies, More than of customs and impertinence; Never accounted seasons, months, and years, Autumnal harvest, Springtide happiness, Further than means to nourish misery, Who never lent the busy world a smile, But breathes out melancholy air, and groans. This man (alike with Epicures and Kings, Who often strive with a departing soul) Expects upon the leisure of his fate, So Kings and Cripples be incorporate; Their ashes often mixed, when they repose Two petty urns, their bodies oft enclose. Death, how impartial be thy wounds? how free From all exceptions? My beloved fire, Lusty and full of Spirit five days since, Here humbled lies, once royal prop of Greece. Laments are idle, neither can recall Your father's soul back from Elysium. But grief informs the world he once did live Worthy, and well respected, like a Prince, Whom people pray for, and whose happy reign True subjects crave to be perpetual. But sorrow in excess (dread sovereign) Begets a weak distraction of the brain. Breeds a contempt of mundane diligence, Neglects profession, violates the law Of solace, and abhors congruity, Gives careless reigns to sick security, Turns nature to a living lethargy.
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)
THe chiefest point of Kings felicity, Some subiects do esteeme Authority. Wee are aboue, the Potentates of earth Be vnacquainted with high bloud and birth. We do transcend supremacy of Kings, Account them (as they are) most mortall things. Subiect to putrifaction, to disease, To folly; which no phisicke may appease. Yet they do magnifie themselues alone, Their haughty stomackes doe acknowledge none Aboue; who may such dignity surmount: Of power supreme as fables they account. My God-head may with priuiledge complaint Of Sparta; whose proud factious Kings refraine By wicked councell, from due sacrifice At my religious Altar: they suffice To render duty in Olimpickes once, And rob me of an—tique oblations: Which wee ascribe vnto the base repute They do conceiue of our Diuinity, My Temples honour and supremacy. To Matrons (Bauds and Widowes) they translate To seruice of weake women dedicate My whole praedominance; they do exempt Mans homage, and beleeue my power of change Extends no further then the female sex. This new-conceited error Il'e refute, Il'e manifest how farre compulsiue change Doth ouersway proud man; Il'e execute The rigor of my vengeance: dreadfull awe Gods do obtaine by a correctiue law. And thus will I restore that holinesse, Which they extinguish through bold sawcinesse: Mortals contemne the Makers Diety, Vntill his wrath scourge their impiety. Nature acquainted well with indigence, Defining (in it selfe) our impotence, Liable to corruption generall, Shewes, nothing doth endure that's naturall: Sterne death no pitty takes on hallowed age, Vpon the sucking babe, whose harmelesse twine, Tenderly hangs about the nurses necke, Neuer did old mens holy teares obtaine, Neuer did death from Innocents refraine. The slaue who smothers in obscurity His hated life; who neuer did account Of rising Sunne, eclipse, and prodigies, More then of customes and impertinence; Neuer accounted seasons, months, and yeares, Autumnall haruest, Spring-tide happinesse, Further then meanes to nourish misery, Who neuer lent the busie world a smile, But breathes out melancholy aire, and groanes. This man (alike with Epicures and Kings, Who often striue with a departing soule) Expects vpon the leisure of his fate, So Kings and Cripples be incorporate; Their ashes often mixt, when they repose Two petty vrnes, their bodies oft inclose. Death, how impartiall be thy wounds? how free From all exceptions? My beloued fire, Lusty and full of Spirit fiue dayes since, Here humbled lyes, once royall prop of Greece. Laments are idle, neither can recall Your fathers soule backe from Elizium. But griefe informes the world hee once did liue Worthy, and well respected, like a Prince, Wom people pray for, and whose happy raigne True subiects craue to be perpetuall. But sorrow in excesse (dread soueigne) Begets a weake distraction of the braine. Breeds a contempt of mundane diligence, Neglects profession, violates the law Of solace, and abhorres congruity, Giues carelesse raignes to sicke security, Turnes nature to a liuing lethargy.