Middleton, Thomas · published 1625 · first performed or written 1624 [licensed for stage, Jun 12] (Annals) comedy · King's Men · Globe unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 509 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
Oh let my arms be blessed, With this dear treasure, truth's glorious Masterpiece, see Queen of sweetness He's in my bosom safe, and this fair Structure Of comely honour, his true blessed assistant. May their Integrities ever possess That powerful Sanctuary. As 'twas a Game (Sir) Won with much hazard, so with much more triumph, I gave him check mate by discovery (sir.) Obscurity is now the fittest favour Falsehood can sue for: it well snites Perdition, 'tis their best course that so hath lost their fame, To put their heads into the bag for shame; And there behold the bags mouth (like hell) opens To take her due; and the lost sons appear, Greedily gaping for increase of fellowship In infamy, the last desire of wretches Advancing their perdition, branded foreheads Like Envies issue, or a bed of Snakes. 'tis too apparent the Game's lost, King taken. The white House has given us the bag (I thank 'em.) They'd need have given you a whole bag By yourself, 'sfoot this black bishop has so over laid me, So squelched and squeezed me, I have no verjuice Let in me, you shall find all my goodness if you Look for't in the bottom of the Bag. Thou malapert Pawn, The Bishop must have room, he will have room, And room to lie at pleasure. All the Bag I think Is room too little for your Spalletto paunch. Down viper of our Order, I abhor thee, thou'lt show thy whorish front. Yes, monster Holiness. Contention in the bag? is hell divided. You'd need have some of Majesty and Power, To keep good rule amongst you, make room Bishop. I am not easily moved, when I'm once set, I scorn to stir for any King on earth. Here comes the Queen, what say you then to her? Indeed a Queen may make a Bishop stir. Room for the greatest Machiavill Politician, That ere the Devil hatched of a nuns-egg. He'll pick a hole in the bag, and get out shortly: I'm sure to be the last man that creeps out; And that's the misery of greatness ever. Room for a sunburned, Tanzy faced beloved, An Olive coloured Ganymede; and that's all That's worth the bagging. Crowd in all you can, The Bishop will be still uppermost man Maugre King, Queen, or Politician. So let the Bag close now (the fittest womb For Treachery, Pride and falsehood, whilst we winner like) Destroying through heaven's power, what would destroy; Welcome our white Knight with loud peals of joy. MY Mistress (the Whit Queen) hath sent me forth, And bade me bow thus low, to all of Worth, That are true Friends of the White House and Cause, Which She hopes most of this assembly draws: For any else, by Envies mark devoted, To those night-glow-worms in the Bag denoted; Where ere they sit, stand, or in private lurk, They'll be soon known by their depraving work: But She's assured, what they'll commit to bayne, Her white Friends hands will build up fair again.
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)
Oh let my armes be bleſt, With this deare treaſure, Truths glorious Maſter-peece, ſee Queene of ſweetnes He's in my boſome ſafe, and this faire Stucture Of comely honor, his true bleſt aſſiſtant. May their Integrities euer poſſeſſe That powerfull Sanctuary. As 'twas a Game (Sir) Won with much hazard, ſo with much more triumph, I gaue him checke mate by diſcouery (ſir.) Obcurity is now the fitteſt fauour Falſhood can ſue for: it well ſnites Perdition, Tis their beſt courſe that ſo hath loſt their fame, To put their heads into the bagge for ſhame; And there behold the bags mouth (like hell) opens To take her due; and the loſt ſonnes appeare, Greedily gaping for increaſe of fellowſhip In infamy, the laſt deſire of wretches Aduancing their perdition, branded fore-heads Like Envies iſſue, or a bed of Snakes. Tis too apparent the Game's loſt, King taken. The white Houſe has giuen vs the bag (I thank em.) They'd neede haue giuen you a whole bag By your ſelfe, Sfoot this blacke biſhop has ſo ouer layd me, So ſquelch'd and ſqueaſde mee, I haue no Verjuce Let in me, you ſhall find all my goodneſſe if you Looke for't in the bottome of the Bagge. Thou Male-part Pawne, The Biſhop muſt haue roome, he will haue roome, And roome to lye at pleaſure. All the Bagge I thinke Is roome too little for your Spalletto paunch. Downe viper of our Order, I abhorre thee, Thou't ſhewe thy whoriſh front. Yes, monſter Holineſſe. Contention in the bag? is hell deuided. You'd neede haue ſome of Maieſty and Power, To keepe good rule amongſt you, make roome Biſhop. I am not eaſily mooued, when I'me once ſet, I ſcorne to ſtirre for any King on earth. Heere comes the Queene, what ſay you then to her? Indeede a Queene may make a Biſhop ſtirre. Roome for the greateſt Machiauill Polititian, That ere the Diuell hatch'd of a Nuns-egge. He'le picke a hole in the bagge, and get out ſhortly: I'me ſure to be the laſt man that creepes out; And thats the miſery of greatneſſe euer. Roome for a ſun-burn'd, Tanzy fac'd belou'd, An Oliue couloured Ganimed; and thats all Thats worth the bagging. Crowd in all you can, The Biſhop will be ſtill vppermoſt man Mauger King, Queene, or Polititian. So let the Bagge cloſe now (the fitteſt wombe For Treachery, Pride and Falſhoold, whilſt we winner like) Deſtroying through Heauens power, what would deſtroy; Welcome our white Knight with loud peales of Ioy. MY Miſtreſſe (the Whit Queene) hath ſent me forth, And bad me bow thus low, to all of Worth▪ That are true Friends of the White Houſe and Cauſe, Which She hopes moſt of this aſſembly drawes: For any elſe, by Envies marke deuoted, To thoſe night-Glow-wormes in the Bagge denoted; Where ere they ſit, ſtand, or in priuate lurke, They'le be ſoone knowne by their deprauing worke: But She's aſſur'd, what they'le commit to bayne, Her white Friends hands will build vp faire againe.