Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T12: iupiter, saturn, iuno, venus, gods, mars, earth, titan, love, fair.
methinks, I see him struggling on the ground, Hear his unmanly outcries, and lost prayers Made to the Gods, which turn their heads away. Nero, this day must end the world's desires, And headlong send thee, to unquenched fires. Why do I further idly stand debating, My proofs are but too many, and too pregnant, And PRINCE's Ears still to suspicions open: whoever, being but accused, was quit; For States are wise, and cut of ills that may be; Mean men must die, that tother may sleep sound, Chiefly, that rule, whose weakness apt to fears, And bad deserts of all men, makes them know There's none but is in heart, what he's accused. THis kiss sweet love, I'll force from thee and this, And of such spoils, and victories be prouder, Than if I had the fierce Panonian, Or grey-eyed German ten times overcome. Let Iulius go, and fight at end o'th' world, And conquer from the wild inhabitants Their cold, and poverty; whilst Nero, here, Makes other wars, wars where the conquered gains, Where to o'ercome, is to be prisoner. O willingly, I give my freedom up; And put on my own chains; And am in love with my captivity; Such Venus is, when on the sand shore Of Xanthus or on Ida's pleasant green She leads the dance; Her, the nymphs all are we, And smiling graces do accompany. If Bacchus could his straggling Minion Grace, with a glorious wreath of shining Stars; Why should not Heaven my Poppaea Crown? The Northern team shall move into a round; New constellations rise, to honour thee; The Earth shall won thy favours, and the Sea Lay his rich shells, and treasure at thy feet. For thee, Hidaspis shall throw up his gold, Pauchaia breath the rich delightful smells, The Seres, and the feathered man of Ind Shall their fine arts, and curious labours bring: And where the sun's not known, Poppaea's name Shall midst their feasts, and barbarous pomp be sung. ay, now I am worthy to be Queen o'th' world, Fairer than Venus, or the Bacchus' love: But you'll anon, unto your cut-boy, Sporus, Your new made woman; to whom, now I hear You are wed led too. I wedded? ay, you wedded; Did you not hear the words o'th' Auspices, Was not the boy in bridelike garments dressed, Marriage books sealed, as 'twere for issue, to Be had between you, solemn feasts prepared; While all the Court, with God-give you joy, sounds. It had been good Domitius your Father Had ne'er had other wife: Your froward fool, y'are still so bitter, whose's that? One that it seems, my Lord, doth come in haste. Yet in his face he sends his tale before him, Bad news thou tellest. 'Tis bad I tell, but good that I can tell it, Therefore your Majesty will pardon me, If I offend your ears to save your life.
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)
Me thinkes, I ſee him ſtruggling on the ground, Heare his vnmanly outcries, and loſt prayers Made to the Gods, which turne their heads away. Nero, this day muſt end the worlds deſies, And head-long ſend thee, to vnquenched fires. Why doe I further idly ſtand debating, My proofes are but too many, and too pregnant, And Princes Eares ſtill to ſuſpitions open: Who euer, being but accus'd, was quit; For States are wiſe, and cut of ylls that may be; Meane men muſt die, that t'other may ſleepe ſound, Chiefely, that rule, whoſe weaknes apt to feares, And bad deſerts of all men, makes them know There's none but is in heart, what hee's accus'd. THis kiſſe ſweet loue, Ile force from thee and this, And of ſuch ſpoiles, and victories be prowder, Then if I had the fierce Panonian, Or gray-eyd German ten times ouercome. Let Iulius goe, and fight at end oth' world, And conquer from the wilde inhabitants Their cold, and pouerty; whileſt Nero, here, Makes other warres, wares where the conquerd gaines, Where to ore-come, is to be priſoner. O willingly, I giue my freedome vp; And put on my owne chaines; And am in loue with my captiuitie; Such Venus is, when on the ſand ſhore Of Xanthus or on Idas pleſn greene She leades the dac; Her, the Nimphes all are we, And ſmyling graces doe accompany. If Bacchus could his ſtragling Mynion Grace, with a glorious wreath of ſhining Sarres; Why ſhould not Heauen my Poppaea Crowe? The Northerne teeme ſhall moue into a round; New conſtellations riſe, to honour thee; The Earth ſhall wone thy fauours, and the Sea Lay his rich ſhells, and treaſure at thy feete. For thee, Hidaſpis ſhall throw vp his gold, Pauchaia breath the rich delightfull ſmells, The Seres, and the feather'd man of Inde Shall their fine arts, and curious labours bring: And where the Sunn's not knowne, Poppaeas name Shall midſt their feaſts, and barbarous pompe be ſung. I, now I am worthy to be Queene oth' world, Fairer then Ʋenus, or the Bacchus loue: But you'le anone, vnto your cutt-boy, S porus, Your new made woman; to whom, now I heare You are wed led too. I wedded? I, you wedded; Did you not heare the words oth' Auſpyces, Was not the boy in bride-like garmns dreſt, Marriage bookes ſeald, as 'twere for yſſue, to Be had betweene you, ſolemne feaſts prepar'd; While all the Court, with God-giue you Ioy, ſounds. It had bin good Domitius your Father Had nere had other wife: Your froward foole, y'are ſtill ſo bitter, whoſe that? One that it ſeemes, my Lord, doth come in haſt. Yet in his face he ſends his tale before him, Bad newes thou telleſt. 'Tis bad I tell, but good that I can tell it, Therefore your Maieſtie will pardon me, If I offend your eares to ſaue your life.