Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
Their soldiers (sent to nourish up those wars.) When (fired) their golden Palaces fell down. When through the slaughter th'Afrique seas were died, And sacred Temples quenchlesly inflamed. Now is our hapless time of hopes expired. Then satisfy yourselves with this revenge, Content to count the ghosts of those great Captains, Which (conquered) perished by the Roman swords. The Hannon's, the Amilcars, Asdrubals, Especially, that proudest Hannibal, That made the fair Thrasimene so desert. For even those fields that mourned to bear their bodies, Now (loaden) groan to feel the Roman corpses. Their earth we purple over, and on their Tombs We heap our bodies, equalling their ruin. And as a Scipio did reverse their power, They have a Scipio to revenge them on. Weep therefore Roman Dames, and from henceforth, vailing your Crystal eyes to your fair bosoms, Rain showers of grief upon your Roselike cheeks, And dew yourselves with spring-tides of your tears. Weep Ladies weep, and with your reeking sighs, Thicken the passage of the purest clouds, And press the air with your continual plaints. Beat at your ivory breasts, and let your robes (Defaced and rent) be witness of your sorrows. And let your hair that won't be wreathed in tresses, Now hang neglectly, dangling down your shoulders, Careless of Art, or rich accoutrements. That with the gold and pearl we used before, Our mournful habits may be decked no more. Alas what shall I do? O dear companions, Shall I, O shall I live in these laments? Widowed of all my hopes, my haps, my husbands, And last, not least, bereft of my best Father; And of the joys mine ancestors enjoyed, When they enjoyed their lives and liberty. And must I live to see great Pompey's house, (A house of honour and antiquity) Usurped in wrong by lawless Anthony? Shall I behold the sumptuous ornaments, (Which both the world and Fortune heaped on him,) Adorn and grace his graceless Enemy? Or see the wealth that Pompey gained in war, Sold at a pike, and borne away by strangers? Die, rather die Cornelia; And (to spare Thy worthless life that yet must one day perish,) Let not those Captains vainly lie interred, Or Caesar triumph in thine infamy, That wert the wife to th'one, and th'other's daughter. But if I die before I have entombed, My drowned Father in some Sepulchre, Who will perform that care in kindness for me? Shall his poor wandering limbs lie still tormented, tossed with the salt waves of the wasteful Seas? No lovely Father, and my dearest husband, Cornelia must live, (though life she hateth) To make your Tombs, & mourn upon your hearses. Where (languishing,) my famous faithful tears May trickling bathe your generous sweet cinders. And afterward (both wanting strength and moisture, Fulfilling with my latest sighs and gasps, The happy vessels that enclose your bones,) I will surrender my surcharged life. And (when my soul Earth's prison shall forego,) Increase the number of the ghosts below.
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)
Their souldiers (sent to nourish vp those warrs.) VVhen (fierd) their golden Pallaces fell downe. When through the slaughter th'Afrique seas were dide, And sacred Temples quenchlesly enflam'd. Now is our haples time of hopes expired. Then satis-fie your selues with this reuenge, Content to count the ghosts of those great Captains, Which (conquered) perisht by the Romaine swords. The Hannons, the Amilcars, Asdrubals, Especially, that proudest Hanniball, That made the fayre Thrasymene so dezart. For euen those fields that mour'd to beare their bodies, Now (loaden) groane to feele the Romaine corses. Theyr earth we purple ore, and on theyr Tombes We heape our bodies, equalling theyr ruine. And as a Scipio did reuerse theyr powre, They haue a Scipio to reuenge them on. Weepe therefore Roman Dames, and from henceforth, Valing your Cristall eyes to your faire bosoms, Raine showres of greefe vpon your Rose-like cheeks, And dewe your selues with springtides of your teares. Weepe Ladies weepe, and with your reeking sighes, Thicken the passage of the purest clowdes, And presse the ayre with your continuall plaints. Beate at your Iuorie breasts, and let your robes (Defac'd and rent) be witnes of your sorrowes. And let your haire that wont be wreath'd in tresses, Now hang neglectly, dangling downe your sholders, Careles of Arte, or rich accoustrements. That with the gold and pearle we vs'd before, Our mournfull habits may be deckt no more. Alas what shall I doe? O deere companions, Shall I, O shall I liue in these laments? Widdowed of all my hopes, my haps, my husbands, And last, not least, bereft of my best Father; And of the ioyes mine auncestors enioy'd, When they enioy'd their liues and libertie. And must I liue to see great Pompeys house, (A house of honour and antiquitie) Vsurpt in wrong by lawlesse Anthony? Shall I behold the sumptuous ornaments, (Which both the world and Fortune heapt on him,) Adorne and grace his graceles Enemy? Or see the wealth that Pompey gain'd in warre, Sold at a pike, and borne away by strangers? Dye, rather die Cornelia; And (to spare Thy worthles life that yet must one day perrish,) Let not those Captains vainlie lie inter'd, Or Caesar triumph in thine infamie, That wert the wife to th'one, and th'others daughter. But if I die before I haue entomb'd, My drowned Father in some Sepulcher, VVho will performe that care in kindnes for me? Shall his poore wandring lymbs lie stil tormented, Tost with the salte waues of the wasteful Seas? No louely Father, and my deerest husband, Cornelia must liue, (though life she hateth) To make your Tombes, & mourne vpon your hearses. VVhere (languishing,) my famous faithful teares May trickling bathe your generous sweet cynders. And afterward (both wanting strength and moysture, Fulfilling with my latest sighes and gasps, The happie vessels that enclose your bones,) I will surrender my surcharged life. And (when my soule Earths pryson shall forgoe,) Encrease the number of the ghosts be-low.