Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
And do but as thou wouldst be done unto. " For sooth to say (in reason) we deserve, To have the self-same measure that we serve. What right had our ambitious ancestors, (Ignobly issued from the Cart and Plough,) To enter Asia? What, were they the heirs To Persia or the Medes, first Monarchies? What interest had they to Afric? To Gaul or Spain? Or what did Neptune owe us Within the bounds of further Brittanie? Are we not thieves and robbers of those Realms That ought us nothing but revenge for wrongs? What toucheth us the treasure or the hopes, The lives or liberties of all those Nations, Whom we by force have held in servitude? Whose mournful cries and shrieks to heaven ascend, Importuning both vengeance and defence Against this City, rich of violence. " 'tis not enough (alas) our power t'extend, Or overrun the world from East to West, " Or that our hands the Earth can comprehend, Or that we proudly do what like us best. " He lives more quietly whose rest is made, And can with reason chasten his desire, " Then he that blindly toileth for a shade, And is with others' Empire set on fire. " Our bliss consists not in possessions, But in commanding our affections " In virtues choice, and vices needful chase Far from our hearts, for staining of our face. Upon thy back (where misery doth sit) O Rome, the heavens with their wrathful hand, Revenge the crimes thy fathers did commit. But if (their further fury to withstand, Which o'er thy walls thy wrack sets menacing) Thou dost not seek to calm heavens ireful king, A further plague will pester all the land. " The wrath of heaven (though urged,) we see is slow In punishing the evils we have done: " For what the Father hath deserved, we know Is spared in him, and punished in the son. " But to forgive the apter that they be, They are the more displeased when they see, " That we continue our offence begun. Then from her loathsome Cave doth Plague repair, " That breaths her heavy poisons down to hell: Which with their noisome fall corrupt the air, " Or maugre famine, which the weak foretell, Or bloody war, (of other woes the worst,) " Which where it lights doth show the Land accursed, And near did good wherever it befell. War that hath sought Th'Ausonian fame to rear, In warlike Emony, (now grown so great With soldiers bodies that were buried there,) Which yet to sack us toils in bloody sweat: T'enlarge the bounds of conquering Thessalie, Through murder, discord, wrath, and enmity, Even to the peaceful Indians pearled seat. Whose entrails fired with rancour, wrath and rage, The former petty combats did displace, And Camp to Camp did endless battles wage: Which on the Mountain tops of warlike Thrace,
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)
"And do but as thou wouldst be done vnto. "For sooth to say (in reason) we deserue, "To haue the selfe-same measure that we serue. What right had our ambitious auncestors, (Ignobly issued from the Carte and Plough,) To enter Asia? What, were they the heires To Persia or the Medes, first Monarchies? What interest had they to Afferique? To Gaule or Spaine? Or what did Neptune owe vs Within the bounds of further Brittanie? Are we not thieues and robbers of those Realmes That ought vs nothing but reuenge for wrongs? What toucheth vs the treasure or the hopes, The lyues or lyberties of all those Nations, Whom we by force haue held in seruitude? Whose mournfull cryes and shreekes to heauen ascend, Importuning both vengeance and defence Against this Citty, ritch of violence. "T'is not enough (alas) our power t'extend, "Or ouer-runne the world from East to West, "Or that our hands the Earth can comprehend, "Or that we proudly doe what lyke vs best. "He lyues more quietly whose rest is made, "And can with reason chasten his desire, "Then he that blindly toyleth for a shade, "And is with others Empyre set on fire. "Our blysse consists not in possessions, "But in commaunding our affections "In vertues choyse, and vices needfull chace "Farre from our harts, for stayning of our face. VPpon thy backe (where miserie doth sit) O Rome, the heauens with their wrathful hand, Reuenge the crymes thy fathers did commit. But if (their further furie to withstand, VVhich ore thy walls thy wrack sets menacing) Thou dost not seeke to calme heauens ireful king, A further plague will pester all the land. "The wrath of heauen (though vrg'd,) we see is slow "In punishing the euils we haue done: "For what the Father hath deseru'd, we know "Is spar'd in him, and punisht in the sonne. "But to forgiue the apter that they be, "They are the more displeased when they see, "That we continue our offence begunne. "Then from her lothsome Caue doth Plague repaire, "That breaths her heauie poisons downe to hell: "VVhich with their noisome fall corrupt the ayre, "Or maigre famin, which the weake foretell, "Or bloody warre, (of other woes the worst,) "VVhich where it lights doth show the Land accurst, "And nere did good where euer it befell. VVarre that hath sought Th'Ausonian fame to reare, In warlike Emonye, (now growne so great VVith Souldiers bodies that were buried there,) VVhich yet to sack vs toyles in bloody sweat: T'enlarge the bounds of conquering Thessalie, Through murder, discord, wrath, and enmitie, Euen to the peacefull Indians pearled seate. VVhose entrails fyerd with rancor, wrath and rage, The former petty combats did displace, And Campe to Campe did endlesse battailes wage: VVhich on the Mountaine tops of warlike Thrace,