Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Like as a branch once set a fire, doth cause the tree to bourn As Socrates supposeth so, a wicked wight doth turn. Those that be good and cause them eke, his evil to sequest, Wherefore the poet Juvenal, doth think it for the best: That those that live licentiously, should bridled be with pain And so others that elles would sin, thereby they might restrain For thus he sayeth that Cities are, well governed in deed, Where punishment for wicked ones, by law is so decreed. And not decreed but exercised, in punishing of those, Which law ne pain from wallowing still, in vice their mind dispose, And as thou hast been chiefs cause, of yielding up they breathe, So call to mind thou wast the cause, of Agamemnon's death. For which as death is recompense, of death so eke with thee, For killing of my father thou, now killed eke shalt be. This thing to see accomplish, revenge with the shall go, Now have her hence sith that you all, my judgement here do know A lack a lack with draw thy hand, my son from shedding blood. Thou art a foul thus for to prate, this doth Horestes good, Come on a way thou dost no more, but him with words molest A foul foul that thou wart dead, he takes it for the best? If ever any pity was, of mother plant in thee, Let it appear Horestes mine, and show it unto me. What pity thou on father mine, didst curse bestow, The same to the at this present, I purpose for to show. Therefore Revenge have her a way, and as I judgement gave: So see that she in order like, her punishment due have. Let me alone, come on a way, that thou wert out of sight, A pestilence on the crabbed quean, I think thou do delight, Him to molest, come of in haste, and trouble me no more, Come on come on, itis all in vain, and get you on afore, Now sith we have the conquest got, of all our mortal foes, Let us provide that occasion, we do not chance to lose. Strike up your drums for enter now, we will the city gate For now resistance none there is, to let us in thereat. As each man bends himself, so I report his fame in deed, If ill, then ill, through iarne trump, his fame doth straigh proceed: If good, then good, through golden trump, I blo his lively fame: through heavens, through earth, & surging seize I bear abroad the same perhaps what wind me heather drives, within your minds you muse From Crete I come to you my friends, I bring this kind of news That Agamemnon's brother is arrived in this land, And eke with him his lady fair, Queen Helen understand. Whom for to see a great frequent, of people their arrive, This news to show at this present, me heather now did drive. A New master, a new, No longer I may: Abide by this day Horestes now doth rue. A new master a new, And was it not ill? His mother to kill? I pray you how say you? A new master a new, Now itis to late? To shut the gate? Horestes gines to rue.
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)
Lyke as a braunche once ſet a fyare, doth cauſe ye trée to bourne As Socrates ſuppoſeth ſo, a wicked wight doth tourne. Thoſe that be good and cauſe them eke, his euell to ſequeſt, Wherefore the poete Iuuenal, doth thinke it for the beſte: That thoſe that lyue lycentiouſley, ſhould brydlyd be wt payne And ſo others that elles would ſyn, therby they might reſtrain For thus he ſayeth that Cities are, well gouerned in dede, Where punniſhment for wycked ones, by lawe is ſo decrede. And not decrede but exerſyeſd, in punnyſhinge of thoſe, Which law ne pain frō waloing ſtill, in vice their mind diſpoſe, And as thou haſt byn chiefes cauſe, of yelding vp they breath, So call to minde thou waſt the cauſe, of Agamemnons death. For which as death is recompence, of death ſo eke with the, For kyllinge of my father thou, now kylled eke ſhault be. This thinge to ſe accomplyſhyd, reuenge with the ſhall go, Now haue her hence ſieth yt you all, my iudgment here do kno A lacke a lack wt drawe thy hand, my ſon from ſheding bloud. Thou art a foule thus for to prate, this doth Horeſtes good, Com on a way thou douſt no more, but him with words moleſt A foulyſhe foull that thou wart ded, he takes it for the beſt? Yf euer aney pytie was, of mother plante in the, Let it apeare Horeſtes myne, and ſhowe it vnto me. What pyttie thou on father myne, dydeſt curſedley beſtowe, The ſame to the at this preſent, I purpoſe for to ſhowe. Therfore Reuenge haue her a way, and as I iudgment gaue: So ſe that ſhe in order lyke, her puniſhment dew haue. Let me alone, com on a way, that thou weart out of ſight, A peſtelaunce on the crabyd queane, I thinke thou do delyght, Him to moleſt, com of in haſt, and troubell me no more, Come on com on, ites all in vaine, and get you on a fore, Now ſyeth we haue the conqueſt got, of all our mortall foſe, Let vs prouide that occaſion, we do not chaunce to loſe. Stryke vp your droumes for enter now, we wyll the citie gate For nowe reſeſtaunce none there is, to let vs in thereat. As eache man bendes him ſelfe, ſo I report his fame in dede, Yf yll, thē yll, through iarne trūp, his fame doth ſtraigh proſede: Yf good, then good, through golden trūp, I blo his lyuely fame: through heauēs, throgh earth, & ſurgīg ſeaſe I bere abrod ye ſame perhaps what wind me heather driues, wtin your mid̄s you muſe From Crete I com to you my frends, I bring this kind of newſe That Agamemnons brother is ariuyd in this land, And eke with him his ladey fayre, Quene Helen vnderſtand. Whom for to ſe a great frequent, of people their aryue, This newſe to ſhew at this preſent, me heather now dyd driue. A Newe maſter, a newe, No lenger I maye: Abyde by this daye Horeſtes now doth rew. A new maſter a new, And was it not yll? His mother to kyll? I pray you how ſaye you? A new maſter a new, Nowe ites to late? To ſhut the gate? Horeſtes gines to rew.