Glapthorne, Henry · published 1639 · first performed or written 1634 [1634-1639] [incorrect] (Annals) not in BritDrama · Globe unassigned nearest T2 Roman politics: senate, consuls and civi · 469 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
Man, my royal Father Is not himself, when he beholds Events through the quick perspective of fear, Which shows him dangers at remotest distance, As clearest and his most perspicuous objects. Suppose this traitor in his Giant-reach Fathom ev'n heaven itself, yet there are bolts To strike him into earth for his ambition, And make his memory and name, all, save his treason, For ever to be forgotten. That which most Does drive my tortured soul into affrights, Is, that I see we're false among ourselves: The faithless Soldiers daily do in troops, Fly from our Ensigns to the traitor's Camp: What cause have we then but t'expect sad ruin? When those who should be our security, Do prove our greatest enemies; our Guard, Our fear and terror, they all look On him, as superstitious Indians on the Sun, With adoration; on me, with contempt, Or (but at best) with pity. Mighty Caesar, To doubt an ill before it fall upon us, 'Mongst valiant and resolved souls is counted A point of cowardice: Great Spirits ever Should be above their fates; good Sir retreat Into that fortress of your mind, Your resolution, call it up to guard, Your soul from timorous thoughts: Are you the man have swayed The Roman Empire four and twenty years, With that success against your foreign foes, Your very name more than your forces vanquished, To let a Traitor fright you: good my Lord Let's draw forth new battalias to the Field, Awake the Drum and Trumpet, summon up The very last hopes of our weakened strength, 'Gainst this insulting traitor; very infants Will on the sudden grow up able men, And fight in this brave quarrel. Heaven itself Will arm on our side, and with certain vengeance, Pursue the inhuman monster: why? to die, (As that's the worst can happen) in this cause, Were a religious martyrdom: I am your son Sir, And what your fortunes are, good or disastrous, Mine has on them dependence; by my hopes, I do So little weigh the glorious traitor's pride, I think him worthy scarce my meanest thought, And rest assured, ere long, I shall behold This fearful meteor, that would be a Star, And does affright us with his hideous blaze, Like a vain Comet drop his fading rays. Your comforts Come as in droughts the elemental dew Does on the earth, it wets, but leaves no moisture, To give the seared plants growth: But yesternight We'd certain information, that our forces Led by Matthias Gallas, were o'erthrown By Saxon Weimar, and his son young Fredricke: Who had they known as well how to pursue, As gain a victory, and made a sudden Onslaught upon Vienna, their's; not ours Had been the Wreath Imperial. Now your news sir. Letters from Colonel Lesle fir, from Egers.
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)
Man, my royall Father Is not himselfe, when he beholds Events through the quicke perspective of feare, Which shewes him dangers at remotest distance, As clearest and his most perspicuous obiects. Suppose this traitor in his Giant-reach Fathome ev'n heaven it selfe, yet there are bolts To strike him into earth for his ambition, And make his memory and name, all, save his treason, For ever to be forgotten. That which most Does drive my tortur'd soule into affrights, Is, that I see we'r false among our selves: The faithlesse Souldiers daily doe in troupes, Fly from our Ensignes to the Traytors Campe: What cause have we then but t'expect sad ruine? When those who should be our security, Doe prove our greatest enemies; our Guard, Our feare and terror, they all looke On him, as superstitious Indians on the Sunne, With adoration; on me, with contempt, Or (but at best) with pitty. Mighty Caesar, To doubt an ill before it fall upon us, 'Mongst valiant and resolved soules▪ is counted A point of cowardise: Great Spirits ever Should be above their fates; good Sir retreat Into that fortresse of your minde, Your resolution, call it up to guard, Your soule from timorous thoughts: Are you the man have sway'd The Roman Empire foure and twenty yeeres, With that successe against your forraigne foes, Your very name more then your forces vanquish'd, To let a Traytor fright you: good my Lord Let's draw forth new battalias to the Field, Awake the Drum and Trumpet, summon up The very last hopes of our weaken'd strength, 'Gainst this insulting traytor; very infants Will on the sudden grow up able men, And fight in this brave quarrell. Heaven it selfe Will arme on our side, and with certaine vengeance, Pursue the inhumane monster: why? to dye, (As that's the worst can happen) in this cause, Were a religious martyrdome: I am your son Sir, And what your fortunes are, good or disastrous, Mine has on them dependance; by my hopes, I doe So little waigh the glorious traytors pride, I thinke him worthy scarce my meanest thought, And rest assur'd, ere long, I shall behold This fearefull meteor, that would be a Star, And does affright us with his hideous blaze, Like a vaine Comet drop his fading rayes. Your comforts Come as in droughts the elementall dew Does on the earth, it wets, but leaves no moysture, To give the sear'd plants growth: But yesternight We'd certaine information, that our forces Led by Matthias Gallas, were o'rethrowne By Saxon Waymar, and his son young Fredricke: Who had they knowne as well how to pursue, As gaine a victory, and made a sudden Onslaught upon Vienna, their's; not ours Had been the Wreathe Imperiall. Now your newes sir. Letters from Colonell Lesle fir, from Egers.