Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
Antonius, where? thou art deceived Lucilius, That's Timon man. How canst thou jest at this This woeful passion, which alone's enough To melt his foes and Caesar into tears. We feed this foolish passion, to give way, And keep aloof thus. I'll go to him. Timon. a! what art thou? be gone I say from me. Get you to Caesar man: I hate you all. I hate thee, Timon; dost thou think 'tis love Has brought me hither? I am come to vex thee. Oh welcome, what's thy name? is't Alcibindes? Hast thou forgot me? Dost thou hate all men? Why dost thou think me so unnatural To love a man? but may we not love women? Yes, they may be beloved; provided always That they be false. True Timon, wicked women May be beloved, because they ruin men. Right, right; and now I better think upon't I'll set no gallows or gibbets up As I intended once, for men to come And hang themselves, I'll keep a bawdy house. A better way by far, 'twill ruin more, I wonder, Timon, at that foolish plot That I have heard, that in thy gardens once In Athens thou didst set up gallows For men in discontent to hang themselves. How few think'st thou would be so mad to do it? But to a wench they'll come, and then the office That thou shalt have will be of more account. For where have you a man of any fashion That now adays turns hangman; but a Pandar Is on employment that befits a Statesman, A thing requires good parts and gravity. I'd try that course; but 'tis too slow a plot. Oh for a speedy way to kill the world I have done somewhat in my days; my wars And bloody battles were not made in vain. For I was once Antonius, and a Roman, As in the wars of Troy Pythagoras Before that transmigration of his soul, Had been Euphorbus. Thou art like him still. And when I was Triumvir first at Rome, That was a time indeed, than I could hear Of those good deeds, which must be still a comfort To your good consciences, though they be past. When Rome was filled with slaughter, flowed with blood. But they perchance were Knaves that were proscribed, And might have done more mischief had they lived. No, they were honest men; I looked to that. 'Twas well, and carefully. Behold the list. But one among the rest most comforts me, That talking fellow Cicero, that used To tax the vicious times, and was forsooth A lover of his Country. Out upon him, Than he was rightly served: for is it fit In a well governed state such men should live As love their Country? had 't not been for him Catiline's plot had thrived.
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)
Antonius, where? thou art deceiv'd Lucilius, That's Timon man. How canſt thou jeſt at this This wofull paſſion, which alone's enough To melt his foes and Caeſar into tears. We feed this fooliſh paſſion, to give way, nd keep aloof thus. I'll go to him. Timon. a! what art thou? be gone I ſay from me. et you to Caeſar man: I hate you all. hate thee, Timon; doſt thou think 'tis love as brought me hither? I am come to vex thee. Oh welcome, what's thy name? i'ſt Alcibides? Haſt thou forgot me? Doſt thou hate all men? Why doſt thou think me ſo unnaturall To love a man? but may we not love women? Yes, they may be belov'd; provided always That they be falſe. True Timon, wicked women May be belov'd, becauſe they ruine men. Right, right; and now I better think upon't I'll ſet no gallowſes or gibbets up As I entended once, for men to come And hang themſelves, I'll keep a bawdy houſe. A better way by farre, 'twill ruine moe, I wonder, Timon, at that fooliſh plot That I have heard, that in thy gardens once In Athens thou did'ſt ſet up gallowſes For men in diſcontent to hang themſelves. How few think'ſt thou would be ſo mad to do it? But to a wench they'll come, and then the office That thou ſhalt have will be of more account. For where have you a man of any faſhion That now adays turnes hangman; but a Pandar Is on employment that befits a Stateſman, A thing requires good parts and gravity. I'de try that courſe; but tis too ſlow a plot. Oh for a ſpeedy way to kill the world I have done ſomewhat in my days; my wars And bloudy battels were not made in vain. For I was once Antonius, and a Roman, As in the wars of Troy Pythagoras Before that tranſmigration of his ſoul, Had been Euphorbus. Thou art like him ſtill. And when I was Triumvir firſt at Rome, That was a time indeed, then I could heare Of thoſe good deeds, which muſt be ſtill a comfort To your good conſciences, though they be paſt. When Rome was fill'd with ſlaughter, flow'd with bloud. But they perchance were Knaves that were proſcrib'd▪ And might have done more miſchief had they liv'd. No, they were honeſt men; I look'd to that. 'Twas well, and carefully. Behold the liſt. But one among the reſt moſt comforts me, That talking fellow Cicero, that us'd To taxe the vicious times, and was forſoeth A lover of his Country. Out upon him, Then he was rightly ſerv'd: for is it fit In a well govern'd ſtate ſuch men ſhould live As love their Country? had 't not been for him Catiline's plot had thriv'd.