Peele, George / Shakespeare, William / Middleton, Thomas · published 1623 · first performed or written 1594 [Jan 23 (24); poss. written 1590-1592] (Annals) tragedy · Pembroke's Men (?) unassigned nearest T2 Roman politics: senate, consuls and civi · 514 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
Why sir, that is as fit as can be to serve for your Oration, and let him deliver the Pigeons to the Emperor from you. Tell me, can you deliver an Oration to the Emperor with a Grace? Nay truly sir, I could never say grace in all my life. Sirrah come hither, make no more ado, But give your Pigeons to the Emperor, By me thou shalt have justice at his hands. Hold, hold, mean while her's money for thy charges. Give me pen and ink. Sirrah, can you with a Grace deliver a Supplication? I sir Then here is a Supplication for you, and when you come to him, at the first approach you must kneel, then kiss his foot, then deliver up your Pigeons, and then look for your reward. I'll be at hand sir, see you do it bravely. I warrant you sir, let me alone. Sirrah hast thou a knife? Come let me see it. here Marcus, fold it in the Oration, For thou hast made it like an humble Suppliant: And when thou hast given it the Emperor, Knock at my door, and tell me what he says. God be with you sir, I will. Come Marcus let us go, Publius' follow me. Why Lords, What wrongs are these? was ever seen An Emperor in Rome thus overborne, Troubled, Confronted thus, and for the extent Of egg all justice, used in such contempt? My Lords, you know the mightful Gods, (How ever these disturbers of our peace Buz in the people's ears) there nought hath past, But even with law against the wilful Sons Of old Andronicus. And what and if His sorrows have so overwhelmed his wits, Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreaks, His fits, his frenzy, and his bitterness? And now he writes to heaven for his redress. See, here's to Ioue, and this to Mercury, This to Apollo, this to the God of war: Sweet scrolls to fly about the streets of Rome: What's this but Libelling against the Senate, And blazoning our Injustice every where? A goodly humour, is it not my Lords? As who would say, in Rome no justice were. But if I live, his feigned ecstasies Shall be no shelter to these outrages: But he and his shall know, that justice lives In Saturninus health; whom if he sleep, he'll so awake, as he in fury shall Cut off the proudest Conspirator that lives. My gracious Lord, my lovely Saturnine, Lord of my life, Commander of my thoughts, Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus age, Th' effects of sorrow for his valiant Sons, Whose loss hath pier'st him deep, and scared his heart; And rather comfort his distressed plight, Then prosecute the meanest or the best For these contempts. Why thus it shall become High witted Tamora to gloze with all: But Titus, I have touched thee to the quick, Thy life blood out: If Aaron now be wise, Then is all safe, the Anchor's in the Port. How now good fellow, wouldst thou speak with us?
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)
Why ſir, that is as fit as can be to ſerue for your Oration, and let him deliuer the Pigions to the Emperour from you. Tell mee, can you deliuer an Oration to the Emperour with a Grace? Nay truely ſir, I could neuer ſay grace in all my life. Sirrah come hither, make no more adoe, But giue your Pigeons to the Emperour, By me thou ſhalt haue Iuſtice at his hands. Hold, hold, meane while her's money for thy charges. Giue me pen and inke. Sirrah, can you with a Grace deliuer a Supplication? I ſir Then here is a Supplication for you, and when you come to him, at the firſt approach you muſt kneele, then kiſſe his foote, then deliuer vp your Pigeons, and then looke for your reward. Ile be at hand ſir, ſee you do it brauely. I warrant you ſir, let me alone. Sirrha haſt thou a knife? Come let me ſee it. Heere Marcus, fold it in the Oration, For thou haſt made it like an humble Suppliant: And when thou haſt giuen it the Emperour, Knocke at my dore, and tell me what he ſayes. God be with you ſir, I will. Come Marcus let vs goe, Publius follow me. Why Lords, What wrongs are theſe? was euer ſeene An Emperour in Rome thus ouerborne, Troubled, Confronted thus, and for the extent Of eg all iuſtice, vſ'd in ſuch contempt? My Lords, you know the mightfull Gods, (How euer theſe diſturbers of our peace Buz in the peoples eares) there nought hath paſt, But euen with law againſt the willfull Sonnes Of old Andronicus. And what and if His ſorrowes haue ſo ouerwhelm'd his wits, Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreakes, His fits, his frenzie, and his bitterneſſe? And now he writes to heauen for his redreſſe. See, heeres to Ioue, and this to Mercury, This to Apollo, this to the God of warre: Sweet ſcrowles to flie about the ſtreets of Rome: What's this but Libelling againſt the Senate, And blazoning our Iniuſtice euery where? A goodly humour, is it not my Lords? As who would ſay, in Rome no Iuſtice were. But if I liue, his fained extaſies Shall be no ſhelter to theſe outrages: But he and his ſhall know, that Iuſtice liues In Saturninus health; whom if he ſleepe, Hee'l ſo awake, as he in fury ſhall Cut off the proud'ſt Conſpirator that liues. My gracious Lord, my louely Saturnine, Lord of my life, Commander of my thoughts, Calme thee, and beare the faults of Titus age, Th' effects of ſorrow for his valiant Sonnes, Whoſe loſſe hath pier'ſt him deepe, and ſcar'd his heart; And rather comfort his diſtreſſed plight, Then proſecute the meaneſt or the beſt For theſe contempts. Why thus it ſhall become High witted Tamora to gloſe with all: But Titus, I haue touch'd thee to the quicke, Thy life blood out: If Aaron now be wiſe, Then is all ſafe, the Anchor's in the Port. How now good fellow, would'ſt thou ſpeake with vs?