Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
My ▪ For which so strange a sadness seizes me, That it increaseth when I strive with it, And makes my face rebellious to my Lord, When my heart yields. Then once again, adieu, Forsake your grief, or grief will forsake you. Forsake my grief— O bid me forsake heaven, My reason, and mine honour: only sighs Doc keep me in opinion of Being, And without them I were a stupid corpse. Shall I obey impossibilities? Forsake the sorrow, and retain the cause? How can I think that yet the untired Sun Has journeyed but a twelvemonth, since I was In Ferdinando's Court, the Paragon Of happy Naples, when his Palace seemed Guarded with Princely suitors, and mine eye, Caught with so many rarities of men, Taught me that too much choice did hinder choice, That Galeazzo then must carry me? This Galeazzo, neither Prince, nor Man, Fooled out of both by Sforza, his dear uncle. Can I think this, and think of joy again? Can I think this, and dare to think again? Why should some toys of after-torment fright A resolution of easing me From present ones? O 'tis the curse of man To be unhappy at arbitrement, Till heaven please to relent. My Iulia, breathes Naples any comfort? quickly speak. None, Madam, and your courteous Grandfather In stead of Armies sends you Patience. What patience? he should have sent me rage, Aided my anger, if not my revenge: Patience? O God! can grief be patient? Can Thunder whisper? or chafed sea not roar? In me is Sea and thunder, I will be A pattern of Revenge not misery. SForza as yet thou but beginst to act, And yet beginst to stagger: wert thou not A PRINCE's son? why art thou not a Prince? Protectors are but subjects, and this staff But shows me under whose command I am. Is this our hindrance that our mother first Swelled with another? what her womb denied Our head shall give, or we will lose our head, What was her labour to a Crown? Perhaps A monster might have filled her first, a thing Of royal prodigy, and should this thing Grow to be hooted to a crown before us? Or if that Crowns be due to the most years, Why should the Nephew be the Uncle's Lord? And Laws of Nations conquer those of Nature? Nature intended Sovereignty to them Of sovereign understanding; to the rest, however aged, but subjection, Which Isabella would detain us in: And whilst she trusts to Naples, our sad brow May sooner wear willow, than Diadems. Returned so soon, my Belgiosa? thanks, Before I hear thy message, for thy haste. My Lord, our sudden coming into France, Left fame behind us, where arrived, we craved A private audience?
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)
My ▪ For which ſo ſtrange a ſad neſſe ſeizes me, That it increaſeth when I ſtriue with it, And makes my face rebellious to my Lord, When my heart yeelds. Then once againe, adieu, Forſake your griefe, or griefe will forſake you. Forſake my griefe—O bid me forſake heau'n, My reaſon, and mine honor: onely ſighes Doc keepe me in opinion of Beeing, And without them I were a ſtupid coarſe. Shall I obey impoſſibilities? Forſake the ſorrow, and retaine the cauſe? How can I thinke that yet the vntyr'd Sunne Has iourny'd but a twelue-month, ſince I was In Ferdinando's Court, the Paragon Of happy Naples, when his Palace ſeem'd Guarded with Princely ſutors, and mine eye, Caught with ſo many rarities of men, Taught me that too much choyce did hinder choyce, That Galeazzo then muſt cary me? This Galeazzo, neither Prince, nor Man, Fool'd out of both by Sforza, his deare vncle. Can I thinke this, and thinke of ioy againe? Can I thinke this, and dare to thinke againe? Why ſhould ſome toyes of after-torment fright A reſolution of eaſing me From preſent ones? O tis the curſe of man To be vnhappy at arbitrement, Till heau'n pleaſe to relent▪ My Iulia, Breath's Naples any comfort? quickly ſpeake. None, Madam, and your courteous Grandfather In ſtead of Armies ſends you Patience. What patience? he ſhould haue ſent me rage, Ayded my anger, if not my reuenge: Patience? O God! can griefe be patient? Can Thunder whiſper? or chaf'd ſe not rore? In me is Sea and thunder, I will be A patterne of Reuenge not miſery. SForza as yet thou but beginſt to act, And yet beginſt to ſtagger: wert thou not A Princes ſonne? why art thou not a Prince? Protectors are but ſubiects, and this ſtaffe But ſhewes me vnder whoſe command I am. Is this our hindrance that our mother firſt Swell'd with another? what her wombe denyde Our head ſhall giue, or we will looſe our head, What was her labour to a Crowne? Perhaps A monſter might haue fill'd her firſt, a thing Of royall prodegy, and ſhould this thing Grow to be hooted to a crowne before vs? Or if that Crownes be due to the moſt yeares, Why ſhould the Nephew be the Vncles Lord? And Lawes of Nations conquer thoſe of Nature? Nature intended Sov'raignty to them Of ſoueraigne vnderſtanding; to the reſt, How euer aged, but ſubiection, Which Iſabella would detaine vs in: And whilſt ſhe truſts to Naples, our ſad brow May ſooner weare willow, then Diadems. Return'd ſo ſoone, my Belgioſa? thankes, Before I heare thy meſſage, for thy haſt. My Lord, our ſudden comming into France, Left fame behind vs, where ariu'd, we crau'd A priuate audience?