Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T3: doctor, master, cure, disease, pray, physic, physician, mr, sick, lady.
The cause to the effect I can apply, And work strange things by hidden sympathies. I do exactly know the compositions Of unctuous Philters, and loves potions: Figures, suspensions, and ligations, Characters and suffumigations. For I the virtues of all simples know From whence; effects that seem impossible I show. The gall of shriek Owls, & harsh night raven's tongues Guts of Panthers, and chameleons lungs, A black Bulls eyes, a speckled toads dried head, Frankincense, camphire, and white poppy-seed; Poisonous Melanthion, and a white cock's blood, Sweet Myrrh, Bay-berries, precious balsam wood, A heart's marrow that hath devoured a snake, And scalps which from a wild beasts jaws we take, The bone that lies i'th' left side of a Frog, A stone that is bitten with a mad dog. The Mandrake root, the blood of a black Cat, A Turtles liver, the brains of a bat, Hyaenas heart, the Cockatrice's blood, That are against so many evils good: The hair of a thief that hangs on a tree; The nails of ships that wracked be, The blood of a wretched man that was slain, The eyes of a Dragon and Weasels brains. These precious simples, and a thousand more I could produce; I have them all in store: And though they seem to men mere trifling things, Each one (I vow) overweighs ransoms of Kings. The blindness of these times cannot descry The virtues rare that in these simples lie. Enough Agnostus: Now fair Shepherdess, I hope you have a fair expression Of this learned man's sublime desert, and art? I do admire his skill, and see (by hap) Good stuff may be beneath a fatten Cap. KNow Martagon, that as no dynasties can stand, No Empires long subsist, unless they be Supported by the Columns of true equity: So shall that government of thine decay, Since thy oppression makes the weak a prey. 'tis no oppression for to punish those, That have transgressed the Laws, as I suppose. The laws (Colossus) proud, unjust tyrant, That dost observe nor equity nor law, But by the torrent of ambition hurried, Dost act what lawless passion prompts thee to: What Laws have I transgressed? it is thy might, That into seeming wrong hath changed our right: Had Fortune been as just as was our cause, We that are censured now for breach of Laws, Maugre thy viperous hate, had now been free, And for thy foul injustice censured thee. And is your pride Virago still so high? That it doth overtop your misery. can't sorrow strike thee dumb, can no disaster, The liberty of thy tongue overmaster. Nay, be assured (proud man) not any smart, Can cure the courage of a valiant heart: No force a heart of adamant can break; And losers must, and shall have leave to speak. No more Acanthus: hear me Martagon: Wilt thou give Violetta what's her own? Wilt thou restore her right and due possessions? And make a recompense for all oppressions, That happy peace with joy and plenty crowned, May in the fields of Thessaly be found?
nodes 728–795 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 12 of 27 in this edition
Length
513 words · 721 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T3 — Sickness, physic and doctorscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.690 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T3 · seed 44: T4 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
The cause to the effect I can apply, And worke strange things by hidden sympathies. I doe exactly know the compositions Of unctious Philters, and loves potions: Figures, suspensions, and ligations, Characters and suffumigations. For I the vertues of all simples know From whence; effects that seeme impossible I show. The gall of shreeke Owles, & harsh night Ravens tongus Guts of Panthers, and Chamelions lungs, A blacke Buls eyes, a speckled oads dry'd head, Frankincense, camphire, and white poppie-seed; Poysenous Melanthion, and a white Cocks bloud, Sweet Myrrhe, Bay-berries, precious balsome wood, A Harts marrow that hath devour'd a snake, And scalpes which from a wilde beasts jawes we take, The bone that lyes ith' left side of a Frogge, A stone that is bitten with a mad dogge. The Mandrake root, the blood of a blacke Cat, A Turtles liver, the braines of a Batt, Hyaenas heart, the Cockatrices bloud, That are against so many evils good: The haire of a thiefe that hangs on a tree; The nailes of ships that wracked be, The blood of a wretched man that was slaine, The eyes of a Dragon and Weasels braines. These precious simples, and a thousand more I could produce; I have them all in store: And though they seeme to men meere trifling things, Each one (I vow) ore'weighes ransomes of Kings. The blindnesse of these times cannot discrie The vertues rare that in these simples lye. Enough Agnostus: Now faire Shepherdesse, I hope you have a faire expression Of this learn'd mans sublime desert, and art? I doe admire his skill, and see (by happe) Good stuffe may be beneath a fatten Cap. KNow Martagon, that as no dynasties can stand, No Empires long subsist, unlesse they be Supported by the Columnes of true equity: So shall that gouernment of thine decay, Since thy oppression makes the weake a pray. Tis no oppression for to punish those, That have transgrest the Lawes, as I suppose. The lawes (Colossus) proud, uniust tyrant, That dost observe nor equity nor law, But by the torrent of ambition hurry'd, Dost act what lawlesse passion prompts thee to: What Lawes have I transgrest? it is thy might, That into seeming wrong hath chang'd our right: Had Fortune beene as just as was our cause, We that are censur'd now for breach of Lawes, Maugre thy viprous hate, had now bin free, And for thy foule injustice censur'd thee. And is your pride Virago still so high? That it doth over-top your misery. Cann't sorrow strike thee dumbe, can no disaster, The liberty of thy tongue over-master. Nay, be assur'd (proud man) not any smart, Can cure the courage of a valiant heart: No force a heart of adamant can breake; And loosers must, and shall have leave to speake. No more Acanthus: heare me Martagon: Wilt thou give Violetta what's her owne? Wilt thou restore her right and due possessions? And make a recompence for all oppressions, That happy peace with joy and plenty crown'd, May in the fields of Thessaly be found?