Fisher, Jasper · published 1633 · first performed or written 1625 [c.1611-1633] (Annals) history · at University T2 Roman politics: senate, consuls and civi typicality 0.76 · 491 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
Not far hence Verolam lies, his chiefest fort, By nature guarded round with woods and fens, By Art enclosed with a ditch and rampire: From hence we must dislodge the Boar. There are but two ways to assail this Town: Both which I know. Your parted army must Break thorough both at once, and so distract His doubtful rescues. Draw slaves unwilling, I dare meet my death: And lead my Leader. You'll repent anon, If I do ill: But not for suffering ill. Your stoical apathy will relent I know. This Priest I caught within a shady grove, Devoutly kneeling at a broad Okes foot. Now He awaits your Doom. What god adore you? Him, whom all should serve. What's the Moon? night's Sun: What's Night? A foil to glorify the Day. What most compendious way to happiness? To die in a good cause. What is a man? An Hermaphrodite of soul & body. How differ they in nature? The body hath in weight, the soul in length. One question more: What dangers shall I pass? Many by land and sea: As steps to glory. Throw Palatine on Aesquiline, on both Heap Aventine, to raise one Pyramis: for a Chair of Estate, where thy advanced Head Among those Heroes pictured in the Stars, Orion, Perseus, Hercules, may consult With Iove himself. But shun the Senate house. March round about the Caspian sea; search out 'Mong Cedars tall the Arabian Phoenix nest; Run counter to old Nile, till thou discover His sacred head wrapped up in cloudy mountains: And rather than work fail, Turn Hellespont Out of his channel; Dig that Isthmus down, Which ties great Afrique. Shun the Senate house. Be Saturn, and so thou shalt not be Tarquin. A Brutus strong, Repays in Fine: Thy brutish wrong To Brutus' line. we'll talk at leisure more. No rampires keep him back: He presses forward, Though every stamp he treads, seems to conjure The fates from their infernal centre. None But he, durst be so bold. Yes, when Britain's lead, and Mandubrace insulting With naked sword calls on the lagging soldiers: When fierce Androgeus with revolted nations, Usher his army. No way half so quick To ruinate kingdoms, as by homebred strife. Thus while we single fight, we perish all. ay, ay, those treacherous caitiffs, rebel slaves: O may their countries heavy curse them sink Below the ninefold brazen gates of hell: That princox proud: ay, 'twas a scape in policy, I should have slain the whelps with their good Sire. Let Britain's climacterical year now run, The Series break of seventy Kings: Nay let One urn conclude our ashes and the worlds. Befall what will: In midst of horror's noise, And crackling flames, when all is lost, we'll die With weapons in our hands, and victory scorn: There's none that die so poor, as they are borne. Faithful Belinus, let a Post command The Kentish Kings to set upon his fleet:
seed 43: T1 · seed 44: T2 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Not farre hence Verolame lies, his chiefest fort, By nature guarded round with woods and fennes, By Art enclosed with a ditch and rampire: From hence we must dislodge the Boare. There are but two wayes to assayle this Towne: Both which I know. Your parted army must Breake thorow both at once, and so distract His doubtfull reskues. Draw slaves vnwilling, I dare meete my death: And lead my Leader. You'le repent anon, If I doe ill: But not for suffering ill. Your stoicall apathy will relent I know. This Priest I caught within a shady grove, Devoutly kneeling at a broad Okes foot. Now He awaites your Doome. What god adore you? Him, whom all should serue. Whats the Moone? Nights Sunne: Whats Night? A foyle to glorifie the Day. What most compendious way to happinesse? To dye in a good cause. What is a man? An Hermaphrodite of soule & body. How differ they in nature? The body hath in waight, the soule in length. One question more: What dangers shall I passe? Many by land and sea: As steps to glory▪ Throw Palatine on Aesquiline, on both Heape Aventine, to raise one Pyramis: for a Chaire of Estate, where thy aduanced Head Among those Heroes pictur'd in the Starres, Orion, Perseus, Hercules, may consult With Iove himselfe. But shun the Senate house. March round about the Caspian sea; search out 'Mong Cedars tall the Arabian Phaenix nest; Run counter to old Nile, till thou discouer His sacred head wrapt vp in cloudy mountaines: And rather than worke fayle, Turne Hellespont Out of his channell; Digge that Isthmus downe, Which tyes great Africk. Shun the Senate house. Be Saturne, and so thou shalt not be Tarquine. A Brutus strong, Repayes in Fine: Thy brutish wrong To Brutus line. Wee'll talke at leasure more. No rampires keepe him backe: He presses forward, Though euery stampe he treads, seemes to coniure The fates from their infernall center. None But he, durst be so bold. Yes, when Britaines lead, and Mandubrace insulting With naked sword calles on the lagging souldiers: When fearce Androgeus with revolted nations, Vsher his army. No way halfe so quicke To ruinate kingdomes, as by home-bred strife. Thus while we single fight, we perish all. I, I, those treacherous caitiffes, rebell slaves: O may their countryes heauy curse them sinke Below the nine-fold brazen gates of hell: That princox proud: I, twas a scape in policy, I should haue slaine the whelps with their good Syre. Let Britaines climactericall yeere now runne, The Series breake of seuentie Kings: Nay let One vrne conclude our ashes and the worlds. Befall what will: In midst of horrors noyse, And crackling flames, when all is lost, wee'll dye With weapons in our hands, and victory skorne: There's none that dye so poore, as they are borne. Faithfull Belinus, let a Post command The Kentish Kings to set vpon his fleete: