Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
" These are vain thoughts, or melancholy shows, That wont to haunt and trace by cloistered tombs: " Which eath's appear in sad and strange disguises. To pensive minds deceived, (with their shadows) " They counterfeit the dead in voice and figure; divining of our future miseries. " For when our soul the body hath disgaged, It seeks the common passage of the dead, " Down by the fearful gates of Acheron. Where when it is by Aeacus adjudged, " It either turneth to the Stygian Lake, Or stays for ever in th'elysian fields; " And ne'er returneth to the Corpse interred; To walk by night, or make the wise afeard. " None but inevitable conquering Death, Descends to hell, with hope to rise again; " For ghosts of men are locked in fiery gates, Fast-guarded by a fell remorseless Monster. " And therefore think not it was Pompey's sprite, But some false Daemon that beguiled your sight. Then O world's Queen, O town that didst extend Thy conquering arms beyond the Ocean, And throng'dst thy conquests from the Lybian shores Down to the Scythian swift-foot fearless Porters, Thou art embased; and at this instant yield'st Thy proud neck to a miserable yoke. Rome thou art tamed, & th'earth dewed with thy blood Doth laugh to see how thou art signiorized. The force of heaven exceeds thy former strength. For thou that wontest to tame and conquer all, Art conquered now with an eternal fall. Now shalt thou march (thy hands fast bound behind thee) Thy head hung down, thy cheeks with tears besprent, Before the victor; While thy rebel son, With crowned front triumphing follows thee. Thy bravest Captains, whose courageous hearts (joined with the right) did reinforce our hopes, Now murdered lie for Foul to feed upon. Petreus, Cato, and Scipio are slain, And Iuba that amongst the moor did reign. Now you whom both the gods and Fortune's grace, Hath saved from danger in these furious broils, Forbear to tempt the enemy again, For fear you feel a third calamity. Caesar is like a brightly flaming blaze That fiercely burns a house already fired; And ceaseless launching out on every side, Consumes the more, the more you seek to quench it, Still darting sparkles, till it find a train To seize upon, and then it flames amain. The men, the Ships, wherewith poor Rome affronts him, All powerless, give proud Caesar's wrath free passage. Nought can resist him, all the power we raise, Turns but to our misfortune, and his praise. 'tis thou (O Rome) that nursed his insolence. 'tis thou (O Rome) that gav'st him first the sword Which murder-like against thyself he draws: And violates both God and Nature's laws. Like moral Esop's misled Country swain, That found a Serpent pining in the snow, And full of foolish pity took it up,
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)
"These are vaine thoughts, or melancholie showes, "That wont to haunt and trace by cloistred tombes: "Which eath's appeare in sadde and strange disguises. "To pensiue mindes deceiued, (wyth theyr shadowes) "They counterfet the dead in voyce and figure; "Deuining of our future miseries. "For when our soule the body hath disgaged, "It seeks the common passage of the dead, "Downe by the fearefull gates of Acheron. "Where when it is by Aeacus adiudg'd, "It eyther turneth to the Stygian Lake, "Or staies for euer in th'Elisian fields; "And ne're returneth to the Corse interd; "To walke by night, or make the wise afeard. "None but ineuitable conquering Death, "Descends to hell, with hope to rise againe; "For ghosts of men are lockt in fiery gates, "Fast-guarded by a fell remorceles Monster. "And therefore thinke not it was Pompeys spryte, "But some false Daemon that beguild your sight. Then O worlds Queene, O towne that didst extend Thy conquering armes beyond the Ocean, And throngdst thy conquests from the Lybian shores Downe to the Scithian swift-foote feareles Porters, Thou art embas'd; and at this instant yeeld'st Thy proud necke to a miserable yoke. Rome thou art tam'd, & th'earth dewd with thy bloode Doth laugh to see how thou art signiorizd. The force of heauen exceeds thy former strength. For thou that wont'st to tame and conquer all, Art conquer'd now with an eternall fall. Now shalt thou march (thy hands fast bound behind thee) Thy head hung downe, thy cheeks with teares besprent, Before the victor; Whyle thy rebell sonne, With crowned front tryumphing followes thee. Thy brauest Captaines, whose coragious harts (Ioyn'd with the right) did re-enforce our hopes, Now murdred lye for Foule to feede vpon. Petreus, Cato, and Scipio are slaine, And Iuba that amongst the Mores did raigne. Nowe you whom both the gods and Fortunes grace, Hath sau'd from danger in these furious broyles, Forbeare to tempt the enemy againe, For feare you feele a third calamitie. Caesar is like a brightlie flaming blaze That fiercely burnes a house already fired; And ceaseles lanching out on euerie side, Consumes the more, the more you seeke to quench it, Still darting sparcles, till it finde a trayne To seaze vpon, and then it flames amaine. The men, the Ships, wher-with poore Rome affronts him, All powreles, giue proud Caesars wrath free passage. Nought can resist him, all the powre we raise, Turnes but to our misfortune, and his prayse. T'is thou (O Rome) that nurc'd his insolence. T'is thou (O Rome) that gau'st him first the sword Which murder-like against thy selfe he drawes: And violates both God and Natures lawes. Lyke morrall Esops mysled Country swaine, That fownd a Serpent pyning in the snowe, And full of foolish pitty tooke it vp,