Middleton, Thomas · published 1625 · first performed or written 1624 [licensed for stage, Jun 12] (Annals) comedy · King's Men · Globe unassigned nearest T19 Virtue, Fortune and Vice as abstractions · 482 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T19: virtue, fortune, virtues, honour, fame, vice, envy, world, pride, great.
Your holiness is merry with the messenger, Too happy to be true, you speak what should be. If natural compunction touched you truly: Oh you've drawn-blood, live blood, blood of honour From your most dear primitive mother's heart: Your sharp invectives have been points of spears In her sweet tender sides, the unkind wounds Which the son gives, a son of reverence specially, They rankle ten times more, you the adversaries: I tell you, sir, your reverend revolt Did give the fearfullest blow to adoration Our cause ere felt, it shook the very statues, The veins and ashes of the Sainted sleepers. Forbear, or I shall melt i'the place I stand, And let forth a fat Bishop in sad syrup: Suffice I am yours, when they least dream on't, Ambitious fooder, power and riches draws me, When I smell honour that's the lock of hay, That lead me through the world's field every way. Ex. B. Kt. Here's a sweet pang to propagate belief on, Like the foundation of a Chapel laid Upon a quagmire, I may number him now Amongst my inferior policies, and not shame 'em; But let me a little solace my designs With the remembrance of some brave ones past, To cherish the futurity of project, Whose motion must be restless till that great work, Called the possession of the world be ours: Was it not procured a gallant fleet, From the white Kingdom to secure our coasts, 'gainst th'infidel Pirates, under pretext Of more necessity's expedition, Who made the jails fly open (without miracle) And let the Locusts out, those dangerous flies. Whose property's to burn corn without touching The Heretic Granaries, feel it to this minute; And now they've got amongst the country Corpse, They stick so fast to the converted ears, The loudest tempest that authority rouses, Will hardly shake 'em off, they have their dens In lady's coaches, their safe groves and fens: Nay they were followed and found out by th' sent Palm oil will make a Pursuivant relent: Whose policy was it to put a silenced muzzle, On all the barking tongue-men of the time: Made pictures that were enough before, Poor sufferers in that politic restraint? My light spleen skips, and shakes my ribs to think on't Whilst our drift walked uncensured, but in thought A whistle or a whisper, would be questioned, In the most fortunate Angle in the World, The Court has held the City by thy horns, Whilst I have milked her: I have got good soups too From Countries for their liberties, From some for their most vainly hoped for preferments. High offices, in th'air, I should no live But for this Mellacrim, this mirth Manna, My pawn? how now, the news. Expect none very pleasing That comes (sir) of my bringing, I'm so sad. Thy conscience is so tender hoofed a late, Every nail pricks it.
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)
Your holineſſe is merry with the meſſenger, Too happy to be true, you ſpeake what ſhould be. If naturall compunction toucht you truely: Oh you'ue drawn-blood, liue blood, blood of honor From your moſt deare primitiue mothers heart: Your ſharpe inuectiues haue beene points of ſpeares In her ſweet tender ſides, the vnkind wounds Which the ſonne giues, a ſonne of reuerence ſpecially, They rankle ten times more, you the aduerſaries: I tell you, ſir, your reuerend reuolt Did giue the feare-fulleſt blow to adoration Our cauſe ere felt, it ſhooke the very ſtatues, The veines and aſhes of the Sainted ſleepers. Forbeare, or I ſhall melt i'the place I ſtand, And let forth a fat Biſhop in ſad ſyrrop: Suffice I am yours, when they leaſt dreame on't, Ambitious fooder, power and riches drawes me, When I ſmell honor that's the locke of hay, That lead me throgh the worlds field euery way. Ex. B. Kt. Here's a ſweet pange to propogate beleefe on, Like the foundation of a Chappell layd Vpon a quagmire, I may number him now Amongſt my inferior policies, and not ſhame em; But let me a little ſolace my deſignes With the remembrance of ſome braue ones paſt, To cherriſh the futerrity of proiect, Whoſe motion muſt be reſtleſſe til that great work, Cald the poſſeſſion of the world be ours: Was it not procured a gallant fleete, From the white Kingdome to ſecure our coaſts, Gainſt th'infidell Pyrats, vnder pretext Of more neceſſities expedition, Who made the Iayles flye open (without miracle) And let the Locuſts out, thoſe dangerous flies. Whoſe properti's to burne corne without touching The Heritique Granaries, feele it to this minute; And now they'ue got amongſt the country Corps, They ſticke ſo faſt to the conuerted eares, The loudeſt tempeſt that authority rowzes, Will hardly ſhake 'em off, they haue their dennes In Ladies coaches, their ſafe groues and fennes: Nay they were followed and found out by th' ſent Palme oyle will make a Purſeuant relent: Whoſe policy was it to put a ſilenc't muzle, On all the barking tong-men of the time: Made pictures that were enough before, Poore ſufferers in that politicke reſtraint? My light ſpleene skips, and ſhakes my ribs to think on't Whilſt our drift walkt vncenſured, but in thought A whifle or a whiſper, would be queſtioned, In the moſt fortunate Angle in the World, The Court has held the City by thy Hornes, Whilſt I haue milkt her: I haue got good ſoups too From Countries for their liberties, From ſome for their moſt vainly hopd for preferments. High offices, in th'ayre, I ſhould no liue But for this Mellacrim, this mirth Manna, My pawne? how now, the new's. Expect none very pleaſing That comes (ſir) of my bringing, I'me ſo ſad. Thy conſcience is ſo tender hooft a late, Euery nayle prickes it.