The Wounds of Civil War, or Marius and Scilla · chunk 4 of 38
Lodge, Thomas · published 1594 · first performed or written 1588 [1586-1591] (Annals) tragedy · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men T2 Roman politics: senate, consuls and civi typicality 0.87 · 554 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
Beseem not me? Senators advise you, Sulla hath vowed whose vows the heavens record, Whose oaths hath pierced and searched the deepest vast, I and whose protestations reign on earth: This Capitol wherein your glories shine, Was near so priest and throng de with scarlet gowns, As Rome shall be with heaps of slaughtered souls Before that Sulla yield his titles up, I'll mate her streets that peer into the clouds, Burnished with gold and ivory pillars fair, Shining with Iasper, jet, and Ebony, All like the palace of the morning sun, To swim within a sea of purple blood Before I lose the name of General. These threats against thy country and these Lords. Sulla proceeds from forth a Traitor's heart, Whose head I trust to see advanced up On highest top of all this Capitol: As erst was many of thy progeny, Before thou vaunt thy victories in Rome. Graybeard, if so thy heart and tongue agree, Draw forth thy Legions and thy men at arms, Rear up thy standard and thy steeled Crest, And meet with Sulla in the fields of Mars, And try whose fortune makes him General. I take thy word: Marius will meet thee there, And prove thee Sulla a Traitor unto Rome, And all that march under thy traitorous wings, Therefore they that love the Senate and Marius Now follow him. And all that love Sulla come down to him, For the rest let them follow Marius And the Devil himself be their Captain. Sulla, I come to thee, Sulla, Lucretius will die with thee, Thanks my Noble Lords of Rome. Stay Sulla, hear Anthony breath forth, The pleading plaints of sad declining Rome. Anthony, thou know'st thy honey words do pierce, And move the mind of Sulla to remorse: Yet neither words nor pleadings now must serve, whenas mine honour calls me forth to fight, Therefore sweet Anthony be short for Sulla's haste. For Sulla's haste, O whither wilt thou fly? Tell me my Sulla what dost thou take in hand? What wars are these thou stirrest up in Rome? What fire is this is kindled by thy wrath! A fire that must be quenched by Romans blood, A war that will confound our Empery, And last an Act of foul impiety. Brute beasts nill break the mutual law of love, And birds affection will not violate, The senseless trees have concord 'mongst themselves, And stones agree in links of amity, If they my Sulla brook not to have jar, What then are men that 'gainst themselves do war? thou'lt say my Sulla honour stirs thee up: Is't honour to infringe the laws of Rome? thou'lt say perhaps the titles thou hast won, It were dishonour for thee to forego: O, is there any height above the high, Or any better than the best of all? Art thou not Consul? Art thou not Lord of Rome? What greater Titles should our Sulla have? But thou wilt hence, thou wilt fight with Marius The man, the Senate, I and Rome hath chose. Think this before, thou never lift'st aloft, And lettest fall thy warlike hand adown, But thou dost raze and wound thy City Rome: And look how many slaughtered souls he slain, Under thy Ensigns, and thy conquering Lance, so many murders makest thou of thyself.
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)
Beseeme not me? Senators aduise you, Scilla hath vowd whose vowes the heauens recorde, VVhose othes hath pierst and searcht the deepest vast, I and whose protestations raigne on earth: This Capitoll wherein your glories shine, VVas nere so prest and throng de with scarlet gownes, As Rome shall be with heapes of slaughtred soules Before that Scilla yeeld his titles vp, Ile mate hir streets that peere into the clouds, Burnisht with gold and Iuorie pillors faire, Shining with Iasper, Iet, and Ebonie, All like the pallace of the morning sunne, To swim within a sea of purple blood Before I loose the name of Generall. These threats against thy country and these Lords. Scilla proceeds from forth a Traitorshart, VVhose head I trust to see aduanced vp On highest top of all this Capitoll: As earst was manie of thy progenie, Before thou vaunt thy victories in Rome. Graybeard, if so thy hart and tongue agree, Draw forth thy Legions and thy men at armes, Reare vp thy standerd and thy steeled Crest, And meete with Scilla in the fields of Mars, And trie whose fortune makes him Generall. I take thy word: Marius will meet thee there, And proue thee Scilla a Traitor vnto Rome, And all that march vnder thy traiterous wings, Therefore they that loue the Senate and Marius Now follow him. And all that loue Scilla come downe to him, For the rest let them follow Marius And the Diuel himselfe be their Captaine. Scilla, I come to thee, Scilla, Lucretius will die with thee, Thankes my Noble Lords of Rome. Stay Scilla, heare Anthony breath forth, The pleading plaints of sad declining Rome. Anthony, thou knowst thy hony words doo pierce, And moue the minde of Scilla to remorse: Yet neither words nor pleadings now must serue, When as mine honor calls me forth to fight, Therefore sweete Anthony be short for Scillas hast. For Scillas hast, O whither wilt thou flie? Tell me my Scilla what dost thou take in hand? VVhat warres are these thou stirrest vp in Rome? VVhat fire is this is kindled by thy wrath! A fire that must be quencht by Romaines blood, A warre that will confound our Emperie, And last an Act of fowle impietie. Brute beasts nill breake the mutuall law of loue, And birds affection will not violate, The senceles trees haue concord mongst themselues, And stones agree in linkes of amitie, If they my Scilla brooke not to haue iarre, What then are men that gainst themselues doo warre Thoult say my Scilla honor stures thee vp: Ist honor to infringe the lawes of Rome? Thoult say perhaps the titles thou hast wonne, It were dishonor for thee to forgoe: O, is there any height aboue the highe, Or any better than the best of all? Art thou not Consul? Art thou not Lord of Rome? VVhat greater Tytles should our Scilla haue? But thou wilt hence, thou wilt fight with Marius The man, the Senate, I and Rome hath chose. Thinke this before, thou neuer liftst aloft, And lettest fall thy warlike hand adowne, But thou dost raze and wound thy Citie Rome: And looke how many slaughtred soules he slaine, Vnder thy Ensignes, and thy conquering Launce, so many murders makest thou of thy selfe.