Fisher, Jasper · published 1633 · first performed or written 1625 [c.1611-1633] (Annals) history · at University unassigned nearest T2 Roman politics: senate, consuls and civi · 545 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
Stay, stay. Thou art at home: here's Campus Martius. The Britain's sought-for see thy frighted back: Return, and take possession of our I'll, And by thy death be styled Britannicus. Leave not thy blade unsheathed: A tyrant's heart To his own sword a scabbard should impart. Ye Senators, and gaily-gowned Quirites, Open the Capitols ivory gates, and lead Fat bulls with garlands green, and guilded horns: Let supplications last for twice ten days: Caesar returns a victor. Prepare the laureate Coach, and snow-white steeds, Embroidered Canopy, and scarlet gowns: Let Altars smoke, and Tholes expect our spoils: Caesar returns in Triumph.— Basely flies, And leaves his conquest in weak infancy. For had he won this coast, yet many blows Must pass, ere he could pass the Thames; And then Ere he touch Humber, many nations must Be tamed: And then before he Tweed can drink, And climb the craggy rocks of Caledon: A Life is spent: yea, many thousand lives. Oh my wound rages, and tormented brain Doth labour of a Fury, not a Pallas. This Blade was steeped in poison: O, I am poisoned: Well didst thou fly, or I had made thee taste Thine own provision. Now my wrath and pain, With double force shall flow in purple streams. The three infernal Ladies with wire-whips, And speckled snakes, shall lackey close my steps; Whilst that I offer Hecatombs of men The Latian Shepherd's brood shall ban those stars, Whose glimmering Sparks lead their audacious Pines, To lie so far from home in foreign soil. When Cedars fall, whole woods are crushed: nor die, Can Nennius private without company. Thou run'st upon thy death. A Roman never daunted was with looks; Else had not Sarmatane, and Lybian bugbears been captive led in chains. But our looks kill. Die Slave, by Caesar's sword. Thou art his friend. Die, as the Ransom of his greater ghost: And learn as well as I, how venom smarts. Be thou my Post to the Tartarian Prince, And tell him, Nennius comes: But first, I'll send More of you headlong home, a nearer way, Then by the cloudy Alps. Now hot Alarms die in fainter notes: Tempestuous night is gone: Victorious joy, (As when pale Eos cleaves the Eastern fogs, And blushing more and more opes half her eye, With holy water sprinkling all the meads, Whose clear Reflex serves as her Morning glass:) Doth paint with gaudy plumes the chequered sky. The only Name of Victory sounds sweeter, Than all mellifluous Rhetoric. Thanks to Andates, whose power kingdoms feel: Andates, greatest goddess: In whose train, Fear, red-faced anger, and confusion's wheel, Murder, and Desolation run before: But joyful shouts, mirth, Olive-budding Peace, And Laurel-crowned triumph, at her back, Do pace with stately steps. Thy Temple is, The Earth: where furious Monarchs play the Priests: Armies of men imbrue thy Altar stones. Thanks also to the Trident-shaker's Mace, Drawn by two ramping Sea-horses: at whose Beck, The water's wrinkled frown, or smoothly smile. But thou heaven's Diamond, fair Phoebus' Sister, Nor Delian Dames, nor the Ephesian Towers, Shall blazon more thy Praise. Thy influence strong Struck up the sandy oozes; that madding waves Battered their ships, and dashed their bended sails, And with a tempest turned them round in scorn.
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)
Stay, stay. Thou art at home: Heere's Campus Martius. The Britaines sought-for see thy frighted backe: Returne, and take possssion of our Ile, And by thy death be stil'd Britannicus. Leaue not thy blade vnsheath'd: A tyrants heart To his owne sword a scabberd should impart. Ye Senatours, and gaily-gownd Quirites, Open the Capitolls iuory gates, and lead Fat bulles with garlands greene, and guilded hornes: Let supplications last for twice ten daies: Caesar returnes a victour. Prepare the laureate Coach, and snow-white steedes, Embroydered Canopie, and skarlet gownes: Let Altars smoake, and Tholes expect our spoiles: Caesar returnes in Triumph. — Basely flies, And leaues his conquest in weake infancy. For had he won this coast, yet many blowes Must passe, ere he could passe the Thames; And then Ere he touch Humber, many nations must Be tam'd: And then before he Tweed can drinke, And climbe the craggy rocks of Caledon: A Life is spent: yea, many thousand liues. Oh my wound rages, and tormented braine Doth labour of a Fury, not a Pallas. This Blade was steept in poyson: O, I am poyson'd: Well didst thou flye, or I had made thee tast Thine owne provision. Now my wrath and paine, With double force shall flow in purple streames. The three infernall Ladyes with wyar-whips, And speckled snakes, shall lackey close my steps; Whilst that I offer Hecatombes of men The Latian Shepheards brood shall ban those starres, Whose glimmering Sparks lead their audacious Pines, To lye so farre from home in forraine soyle. When Cedars fall, whole woods are crusht: nor dye, Can Nennius priuate without company. Thou runst vpon thy death. A Romane neuer daunted was with lookes; Else had not Sarmatane, and Lybian bug-beares Bin captiue led in chaines. But our lookes kill. Dye Slaue, by Caesars sword. Thou art his friend. Dye, as the Ransome of his greater ghost: And learne as well as I, how venome smarts. Be thou my Post to the Tartarian Prince, And tell him, Nennius comes: But first, I'le send More of you headlong home, a neerer way, Then by the cloudy Alpes. Now hot Alarums dye in fainter notes: Tempestuous night is gone: Victorious ioy, (As when pale Eos cleaues the Easterne fogs, And blushing more and more opes halfe her eye, With holy water sprinkling all the meades, Whose cleere Reflexe serues as her Morning glasse:) Doth paint with gawdy plumes the checkerd sky. The only Name of Victory sounds sweeter, Than all mellifluous Rhetoricke. Thankes to Andates, whose power kingdomes feele: Andates, greatest goddesse: In whose traine, Feare, red-fac'd anger, and confusions wheele, Murder, and Desolation runne before: But ioyfull shouts, mirth, Olive-budding Peace, And Lawrell-crowned triumph, at her backe, Do pase with stately steps. Thy Temple is, The Earth: where furious Monarches play the Priests: Armies of men imbrue thy Altar stones. Thanks also to the Trident-shakers Mace, Drawne by two ramping Sea-horses: at whose Becke, The waters wrinkled frowne, or smoothly smile. But thou Heauens Diamond, faire Phoebus Sister, Nor Delian Dames, nor the Ephesian Towers, Shall blazon more thy Praise. Thy influence strong Strucke vp the sandy ooes; that madding waues Batterd their ships, and dasht their bended sayles, And with a tempest turn'd them round in skorne.