Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T10: france, french, england, king, lord, english, edward, talbot, peace, lords.
We wondered lately at the prouder French, And gave too high a value to their acts: When in a serious estimation, Their chiefest victory was of the miles, And more a journey than a war: if they Could gain a fame by nimble traveling, How shall we rear a trophy to his name, That made them go far faster than they came? For my part (though I know his Modesty, Which will refuse the honours he deserves) I'd have him forced unto the government, To rule that happy land which he hath saved. Sforza will ne'er gain say the general voice, Your love I like beyond your gift: kind Heavens! Show by my governments integrity You were the people's prompter, and I'll show (If you but actuate my just desires) I only am their Duke in goodness: since Milan hath chose, it shall applaud her Prince. NO rest in death? why then I see they err That give a quiet to a sepulchre. 'Tis our hard fate, nor can Man choose but die, But where Grief is, is Immortality. This draws our juiceless bones to a new day, From Lethe's banks, where we have learned the way, (An easy learning) to return our woes, And laugh at our misfortunes in our foes. we'll draw felicity out of our fall, And make our ghost revenge our Funeral. That our dim Eyes, and with pale death benighted, May by revenge be cleared, and we be righted (If other punishment should come too slow) By the exacter justice of our foe. When being betrayed by them he trusted most, He shall be prisoner in a foreign coast, When wanting sustenance, his teeth shall chaw His arms for food, and their once feeders gnaw. When Hell shall have but part of him, when he That now triumphs shall be less ghost than we. SForza, you are undone. Why my Ascanio? Fortune is fearful of so foul a crime. You durst be bad, and yet improvident, And so it is not Fortunes, but your crime. Which shall I first begin to blame? your fault Or (pardon if I call it) Foolishness: I faint to think that you are past excuse, Both with the honest and the Politic. Come nearer, my dear Cardinal, and tell In easier terms what 'tis that troubles you: Is Galeazzo's death divulged? It is: The time, the manner, and the murderer, Nor am I free from th'imputation: You speak what you suspect, not what is true, Does speech come from the dead? can their dried nerves Borrow a tongue for accusation? This is no other than the voice of Guilt, The speech of our home-executioner: And yet I fear— and yet what should I fear? Blood hath strange organs to discourse withal, It is a clamorous Orator, and then Even Nature will exceed herself to tell A crime so thwarting Nature.
seed 43: T8 · seed 44: T8 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
We wondred lately at the prouder French, And gaue too high a valew to their acts: VVhen in a ſerious eſtimation, Their chiefeſt victory was of the miles, And more a iourney then a warre: if they Could gaine a fame by nimble trauelling, How ſhall we reare a trophee to his name, That made them goe farre faſter then they came? For my part (though I know his Modeſty, VVhich will refuſe the honours he deſerues) I'de haue him forc'd vnto the gouernment, To rule that happy land which he hath ſau'd. Sforza will ne're gaine ſay the gen'rall voice, Your loue I like beyond your gift: kind Heau'ns! Shew by my gouernments integrity You were the peoples prompter, and I'le ſhew (If you but actuate my iuſt deſires) I onely am their Duke in goodneſſe: ſince Millan hath choſe, it ſhall applaud her Prince. NO reſt in death? why then I ſee they erre That giue a quiet to a ſepulcher. 'Tis our hard fate, nor can Man chuſe but dye, But where Griefe is, is Immortality. This drawes our iuiceleſſe bones to a new day, From Lethes bankes, where we haue learnt the way, (An eaſie learning) to returne our woes, And laugh at our misfortunes in our foes. Wee'll draw felicity out of our fall, And make our ghoſt reuenge our Funerall. That our dimme Eyes, and with pale death benighted, May by reuenge be clear'd, and we be righted (If other puniſhment ſhould come too low) By the exacter iuſtice of our foe. When being betray'd by them he truſted moſt, He ſhall be pris'ner in a forren coaſt, When wanting ſuſtenance, his teeth ſhall chaw His armes for food, and their onee feders gnaw. When Hell ſhall haue but part of him, when he That now triumphs ſhall be leſſe ghoſt then we. SForza, you are vndone. Why my Aſcanio? Fortune is fearfull of ſo foule a crime. You durſt be bad, and yet improuident, And ſo it is not Fortunes, but your crime. Which ſhall I firſt beginne to blame? your fault Or (pardon if I call it) Fooliſhneſſe: I faint to thinke that you are paſt excuſe, Both with the honeſt and the Politicke. Come neerer, my deare Cardinall, and tell In eaſier termes what tis that troubles you: Is Galeazzo's death divulg'd? It is: The time, the manner, and the murtherer, Nor am I free from th'imputation: You ſpeake what you ſuſpect, not what is true, Does ſpeech come from the dead? can their dry'd nerues Borrow a tongue for accuſation? This is no other then the voice of Guilt, The ſpeech of our home-executioner: And yet I feare—and yet what ſhould I feare? Bloud hath ſtrange organs to diſcourſe withall, It is a clamorous Oratour, and then Euen Nature will exceed her ſelfe to tell A crime ſo thwarting Nature.