Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
And did she melt? Yes melted into tears, But was a stranger to my wanton tales: She comes whom your hot love so close empales. Wonder of women, pomp and pride of earth, Whose woeful absence might make beauty's dearth, Goddess of lovesick souls, thou glorious Nymph Who mightst attract the Angels eyes to sin: O thou beyond Hamilcar's county love, (Because indeed a concubine for Ioue), Rob not the treasure of my soul's delight, Which lies imprisoned in aeternal night. Did you for this (most lying impious man) Pull me from refuge and protection safe? Give me advice, in hope of due revenge, To follow thee, forsake the Title Queen Of Sparta, to become a Queen of Lust? For this did you solicit (beastly Lord?) And labour by this talking Eunuch-bawd, To conquer chastity through faithless fraud? For this did you obtest high oaths above My poor conceit, to show dissembling love? Let me again obtest the waking Gods, Or (beyond them) your beauteous deity, (Which to abuse, were vild impiety) Thy glad fruition were a ransomed soul, Or kingdoms conquest in my rich account Of glorious beauty; giving more content Than soul imagine, or great kingdoms may. we call to witness thy imperious hate, And do appeal to virtue of thy love, (If hate and love may both together lodge) Thy love surmounts my value, doth infuse A sudden rapture to my longing soul, Doth change dull nature, quicken up my brain, Put a perfume into my sordid breath, And is indeed restorative to death. If you intend a true religious love, Profess it sir, without offence to Ioue, And so remember blessed nuptials; For he enjoys his fate and funerals, Who sometime was Maenander, and my spouse; yourself did seal his death by constant vows. Speak then, and let thy answer be direct, Or I shall think, religion you neglect. O she hath given his fury a full stab, My sweet-mouthed Courtier swallows down a crab. The Eel is in a sandbag, some good man See how the mimic screws an Alphabet Of hungry faces, how the maggot crawls To feed upon the kernel. Who replies? Again, again (for loves sake) spur the jade: Give him another pill, provoke the slave, And make him spew his heart with madness; melt His larded veins with striving to extend A lousy answer; but the Idol speaks. What makes Amilcar dumb with my request? What makes thy trembling blood so pale and wan, Most like the colour of a dying man? The sad remembrance of my foolish vow, Vexes meek apprehension; yielding forth In stead of answer, ambiguities. Look for a subtle rare-compacted lie. Madam, the vow makes me monastical, I have protested a true single life, Which did engender a Dilemma, long, But religious indeed. Ridiculous, Indeed you are a Goat libidinous. I never will be yoked, by consequence No drawing beast, no big laborious ox, I must not marry madame.
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)
And did she melt? Yes melted into teares, But was a stranger to my wanton tales: Shee comes whom your hot loue so close empales. Wonder of women, pompe and pride of earth, Whose wofull absence might make beauties dearth, Goddesse of loue-sick soules, thou glorious Nymph Who mightst attract the Angels eyes to sinne: O thou beyond Amilcars county loue, (Because indeed a concubine for Ioue), Rob not the treasure of my soules delight, Which lies imprison'd in aeternall night. Did you for this (most lying impious man) Pull me from refuge and protection safe? Giue me aduice, in hope of due reuenge, To follow thee, forsake the Title Queene Of Sparia, to become a Queene of Lust? For this did you sollicite (beastly Lord?) And labour by this talking Eunuch-bawd, To conquer chastity through faithlesse fraud? For this did you obtest high oathes aboue My poore conceit, to shew dissembling loue? Let me againe obtest the waking Gods, Or (beyond them) your beauteous diety, (Which to abuse, were vild impiety) Thy glad frition were a ransom'd soule, Or kingdomes conquest in my rich account Of gloriou beauty; giuing more content Then soule imagine, or great kingdomes may. Wee call to nesse thy imperious hate, And do appeale to vertue of thy loue, (If hate and loue may both together lodge) Thy loue surmounts my value, doth infuse A sudden rapture to my longing soule, Doth change dull nature, quicken vp my braine, Put a persume into my sordid breath, And is indeed restoratiue to death. If you intend a true religious loue, Professe it sir, without offence to Ioue, And so remember blessed nuptials; For hee enjoyes his fate and funerals, Who sometime was Maenander, and my spouse; Your selfe did seale his death by constant vowes. Speake then, and let thy answere be direct, Or I shall thinke, religion you neglect. O shee hath giuen his fury a full stab, My sweet-mouth'd Courtier swallows downe a crab. The Eele is in a sand-bagge, some good man See how the mimicke scrues an Alphabet Of hungry faces, how the maggot crawles To feed vpon the kernell. Who replyes? Againe, againe (for loues sake) spur the Iade: Giue him another pill, provoke the slaue, And make him spue his heart with madnesse; melt His larded veines with striving to extend A lowsie answere; but the Idoll speakes. What makes Amilcar dumbe with my request? What makes thy trembling blood so pale and wanne, Most like the colour of a dying man? The sad remembrance of my foolish vow, Vexes meeke apprehension; yeelding forth In stead of answere, ambiguities. Looke for a subtill rare-compacted lye. Madam, the vow mayes mee monasticall, I haue protested a true single life, Which did ingender a Dilemma, long, But religious indeed. Ridiculous, Indeed you are a Goat libidinous. I neuer will be yoak'd, by consequence No drawing beast, no big laborious oxe, I must not marry madame.