Middleton, Thomas · published 1625 · first performed or written 1624 [licensed for stage, Jun 12] (Annals) comedy · King's Men · Globe unassigned nearest T31 Popes, cardinals and the crown · 514 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T31: cardinal, pope, king, lord, majesty, holy, rome, france, church, lords.
And you a three pound smock, steed of an Abbey, An Epicene Cassible, this holy fellow Robs safst and close, I feel a sting that's worse too: White pawn, hast so much Charity to accept A reconcilement, make thy own conditions, For I begin to be extremely burdened. No truth, no peace, of that black house, Protest Is to be trusted, but for hope of acquittance, And warned by difference, I may entrap him soonest, I admit conference. It is a nobleness That makes confusion cleave to all my merits. That treatise will instruct you fully. So, so, The business of the Universal Monarchy Goes forward well now, the College pot That should be always boiling with the fuel, Of all intelligencers possible, Through the Christian Kingdom is this fellow Our prime incendiary? one of those That promised the white Kingdom seven years since To our black-house, put a new daughter to him, The great work-slaves, he minds nor Monarchy Nor heresy (diviner principalities) I brag less, But have done more than all the conclave on'em Take their assistant fathers in all parts: ay, or their father general in to boot: And what I have done, I have done factiously With pleasant subtlety, and bewitching courtship, Abuse all my believers with delight, They took comfort to be cozened by me, To many a soul I have let in mortal poison, Whose cheeks have cracked with laughter to receive it, I could so roll my pills in sugared syllables, And strew such kindly mirth o'er all my mischief, They took their bane in way of recreation, A pleasure steals corruption into youth, he spies me now, I must uphold his reverence, Especially in public (though I know) Priapus guardian of the cherry Gardens: Bacchus and Venus chit is not more vicious. Blessings accumulation keep with you (sir.) honour's dissimulation be your due (sir.) How deep in duty in observance plunge? His charge must needs be reverend. I am Confessor To this Black Knight too, you see devotion's fruitful, Sh'as many sons and daughters. I do this the more, To maze our adversaries to behold, The reverence we give these great ones, And to beget a sound opinion Of holiness in them, and zeal in us; As also to invite the like obedience In other pupils, by our meek example: So, is your trifle gone? Trifle call you her, it's a good game (sir) Sure she's the second pawn of the White house, And to the opening of the game I hold her. I you hold well: for that I know your play Of old, if there were more queen's pawns you'd ply The game a great deal harder (now sir we're in private) But what for the main work, the great existence? The hope Monarchal? It goes on in this. In this? I cannot see't. So you may deny A dial's motion, 'cause you cannot see The hand move, or a wind that rends the Cedars. Where stops the current of the intelligence; Your father general Bishop of the black-house, Complains for want of work.
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 you a three pound ſmocke, ſteed of an Abbey, An Epicene Caſſible, this holy fellow Robs ſafſt and cloſe, I feele a ſting that's worſe too: White pawne, haſt ſo much Charity to accept A reconcilement, make thy owne conditions, For I begin to be extreamely burthned. No truth, no peace, of that blacke houſe, Proteſt Is to be truſted, but for hope of acquittance, And warned by difference, I may intrap him ſooneſt, I admit conference. It is a nobleneſſe That makes confuſion cleaue to all my merrits. That treatiſe will inſtruct you fully. So, ſo, The buſineſſe of the Vniuerſall Monarchy Goes forward well now, the Colledge pot That ſhould be alwayes boyling with the fuell, Of all intelligencers poſſible, Through the Chriſtian Kingdome is this fellow Our prime incendiary? one of thoſe That promiſ'd the white Kingdome ſeauen yeares ſince To our blacke-houſe, put a new daughter to him, The great worke-ſlaues, he minds nor Monarchy Nor Hererazie (diuiner principallities) I brag leſſe, But haue done more then all the conclaue on'em Take their aſſiſtant fathers in all parts: I, or their father generall in to boote: And what I haue pone, I haue done factiouſly With pleaſant ſubtilty, and bewitching court-ſhip, Abuſe all my beleeuers with delight, They tooke comfort to be couſned by me, To many a ſoule I haue let in mortall poyſon, Whoſe cheekes haue crackt with laughter to receiue it, I could ſo roule my pills in ſugred ſyllables, And ſtrew ſuch kindly mirth o're all my miſchiefe, They tooke their baine in way of recreation, A pleaſure ſteales corruption into youth, Hee ſpies me now, I muſt vphold his reuerence, Eſpecially in publique (though I know) Pryapus guardianof the cherry Gardens: Bacchus and Venus chit is not more vitious. Bleſſings accumiliation keep with you (ſir.) Honors dſſimulation be your due (ſir.) How deep in duty in obſeruance plunge? His charge muſt needes be reuerend. I am Confeſſor To this Black Knight too, you ſee douotion's fruitfull, Sh'as many ſonnes and daughters. I do this the more, To maze our aduerſaries to behold, The reuerence we giue theſe great ones, And to beget a ſound opinion Of holineſſe in them, and zeale in vs; As alſo to enuite the like obedience In other pupills, by our meeke example: So, is your trifle gone? Trifle call you her, it's a good game (ſir) Sure ſhe's the ſecond pawne of the White houſe, And to the opening of the game I hold her. I you hold well: for that I know your play Of old, if there were more Queenes pawnes you'ld plye The game a great deale harder (now ſir we're in priuat) But what for the maine worke, the great exiſtance? The hope Monarchall? It goes on in this. In this? I cannot ſee't. So you may deny A Dyalls motion, 'cauſe you cannot ſee The hand mooue, or a wind that rends the Cedars. Where ſtops the current of the intelligence; Your father generall Biſhop of the blacke-houſe, Complaines for want of worke.