Herbert, Mary Sidney / Garnier, RobertSidney Herbert, Mary · published 1595 · first performed or written 1590 (Annals) tragedy T2 Roman politics: senate, consuls and civi typicality 0.64 · 517 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
Trumpets to pipes: field tents to courtly bowers: Lances and Pikes to dances and to feasts. Since then, o wretch! in stead of bloody wars Thou shouldst have made upon the Parthian Kings For Roman honour filled by Crassus foil, Thou threw'st thy cuirass off, and fearful helm, With coward courage unto Egypt's Queen In haste to run, about her neck to hang Languishing in her arms thy I doll made: In sum given up to Cleopatra's eyes Thou breakest at length from thence, as one encharmed Breaks from th'enchanter that him strongly held. For thy first reason (spoiling of their force the poisoned cups of thy fair Sorceress) Recured thy spirit: and then on every side Thou mad'st again the earth with Soldiers swarm All Asia hid: Euphrates banks do tremble To see at once so many Romans there Breath horror, rage, and with a threatening eye In mighty squadrons cross his swelling streams. Nought seen but horse, and fire sparkling arms: Nought heard but hideous noise of muttering troops, The Parth, the Mede, abandoning their goods Hide them for fear in hills of Hyrcany, Redoubting thee. Then willing to besiege The great Phraate head of Media, Thou campedst at her walls with vain assault, Thy engines fit (mishap!) not thither brought, So long thou stayest, so long thou dost thee rest, So long thy love with such things nourished Reframes, reforms itself and stealingly Retakes his force and rebecomes more great. For of thy Queen the looks, the grace, the words, Sweetness, allurements, amorous delights, Entered again thy soul, and day and night, In watch, in sleep, her Image followed thee: Not dreaming but of her, repenting still That thou for war hadst such a goddess left. Thou carest no more for Parth, nor Parthian bow, Sallies, assaults, encounters, shocks, alarms, For ditches, rampires, wards, entrenched grounds: Thy only care is sight of Nilus' streams, Sight of that face whose guileful semblant doth (wandering in thee) infect thy tainted heart. Her absence thee besots: each hour, each hour Of stay, to thee impatient seems an age. Enough of conquest, praise thou deemest enough, If soon enough the bristled fields thou see Of fruitful Egypt, and the stranger flood Thy queen's fair eyes (another Pharos) lights. Returned lo, dishonoured, despised, In wanton love a woman thee misleads Sunk in foul sink: meanwhile respecting nought Thy wife Octavia and her tender babes, Of whom the long contempt against thee whets The sword of Caesar now thy Lord become. Lost thy great Empire, all those goodly towns Reverenced thy name as rebels now thee leave: Rise against thee, and to the ensigns flock Of conquering Caesar, who enwalls thee round Caged in thy hold, scarce master of thyself, Late master of so many Nations. Yet, yet, which is of grief extremest grief, Which is yet of mischief highest mischief, It's Cleopatra alas! alas, it's she, It's she augments the torment of thy pain, Betrays thy love, thy life alas!) betrays, Caesar to please, whose grace she seeks to gain: With thought her crown to save and fortune make
seed 43: T1 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Trumpets to pipes: field tents to courtly bowers: Launces and Pikes to daunces and to feastes. Since then, ô wretch! in stead of bloudy warres Thou shouldst haue made vpon the Parthian Kings For Romain honor filde by Crassus foile, Thou threw'st thy Curiace off, and fearfull healme, With coward courage vnto Aegipts Queene In haste to runne, about her necke to hang Languishing in her armes thy I doll made: In summe giuen vp to Cleopatras eies Thou breakest at length frō thence, as one encharm'd Breakes from th'enchaunter that him strongly helde. For thy first reason (spoyling of their force the poisned cuppes of thy faire Sorceres) Recur'd thy sperit: and then on euery side Thou mad'st again the earth with Souldiours swarme All Asia hidde: Euphrates bankes do tremble To see at once so many Romanes there Breath horror, rage, and with a threatning eye In mighty squadrons crosse his swelling streames. Nought seene but horse, and fier sparkling armes: Nought heard but hideous noise of muttring troups, The Parth, the Mede, abandoning their goods Hide them for feare in hilles of Hircanie, Redoubting thee. Then willing to besiege The great Phraate head of Media, Thou campedst at her walles with vaine assault, Thy engins fit (mishap!) not thither brought, So long thou stai'st, so long thou dost thee rest, So long thy loue with such things nourished Reframes, reformes it selfe and stealingly Retakes his force and rebecomes more great. For of thy Queene the lookes, the grace, the words, Sweetnes, alurements, amorous delights, Entred againe thy soule, and day and night, In watch, in sleepe, her Image follow'd thee: Not dreaming but of her, repenting still That thou for warre hadst such a goddes left. Thou car'st no more for Parth, nor Parthian bow, Sallies, assaults, encounters, shocks, alarmes, For ditches, rampiers, wards, entrenched grounds: Thy only care is sight of Nilus streames, Sight of that face whose gilefull semblant doth (Wandring in thee) infect thy tainted hart. Her absence thee besottes: each hower, each hower Of staie, to thee impatient seemes an age. Enough of conquest, praise thou deem'st enough, If soone enough the bristled fields thou see Of fruitfull Aegipt, and the stranger floud Thy Queenes faire eyes (another Pharos) lights. Returned loe, dishonoured, despisde, In wanton loue a woman thee misleades Sunke in foule sinke: meane while respecting nought Thy wife Octauia and her tender babes, Of whome the long contempt against thee whets The sword of Caesar now thy Lord become. Lost thy great Empire, all those goodly townes Reuerenc'd thy name as rebells now thee leaue: Rise against thee, and to the ensignes flocke Of conqu'ring Caesar, who enwalles thee round Cag'd in thy hold, scarse maister of thy selfe, Late maister of so many Nations. Yet, yet, which is of griefe exrreamest griefe, Which is yet of mischiefe highest mischiefe, It's Cleopatra alas! alas, it's she, It's she augments the torment of thy paine, Betraies thy loue, thy life alas!) betraies, Caesar to please, whose grace she seekes to gaine: With thought her crowne to saue and fortune make