The Wounds of Civil War, or Marius and Scilla · chunk 8 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 0.88 · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
No but the means to make fond men more wise, Tut I have wit, and carry warlike tools, To charm the scolding prate of wanton fools, Tell me of Fencers and a tale of Fate? No, Sulla thinks of nothing but a state. Why Sulla I am armed the worst to try. I pray thee then Lucretius let him die. Beshrow me Lords but in this iolly vame, 'twere pity but the prating fool were slain: I fear me Pluto will be wroth with me, For to detain so grave a man as he. But seek not Sulla in this quiet state, To work revenge upon an aged man, A senator, a sovereign of this town. The more the Cedar climbs the sooner down And did I think the proudest man in Rome, Would winch at that which I have wrought or done, I would and can control his insolence. Why senators, is this the true reward, Wherewith you answer Princes for their pain, As when this sword hath made our City free, A braving mate should thus distemper me? But Lepidus and fellow senators, I am resolved and will not brook your taunts, Who wrongeth Sulla, let him look for stripes. ay but the milder passions show the man; For as the leaf doth beautify the tree, The pleasant flowers bedeck the painted spring, Even so in men of greatest reach and power, A mild and piteous thought augments renown: Old Anthony did never see my Lord, A swelling shower that did continue long, A climbing tower that did not taste the wind, A wrathful man not wasted with repent, I speak of love my Sulla, and of joy To see how fortune lends a pleasant gale, Unto the spreading sails of thy desires: And loving thee must counsel thee withal, For as by cutting fruitful vines increase, So faithful counsels works a PRINCE's peace. Thou honey talking father speak thy mind. My Sulla scarce those tears are dried up, That Roman Matrons wept to see this war: Along the holy streets the hideous groans, Of murdered men infect the weeping air: Thy foes are fled not overtaken yet, And doubtful is the hazard of this war: Yea doubtful is the hazard of this war, For now our Legions draw their wasteful swords, To murder whom? even Roman Citizens. To conquer whom? even Roman Citizens. Then if that Sulla love these Citizens, If care of Rome, if threat of foreign foes, If fruitful counsels of thy forward friends May take effect, go fortunate and drive, The king of Pontus out of Asia, lest while we dream on civil mutinies, Our wary foes assail our City walls. My long concealed thoughts Mark Anthony, Must seek discovery through thy pliant words: Believe me Sulla civil mutinies, Must not obscure thy glories and our names: Then sith that factious Marius is suppressed, Go spread thy colours midst the Asian fields, meanwhile myself will watch this City's weal.
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)
No but the meanes to make fond men more wise, Tut I haue wit, and carry warlike tooles, To charme the scolding prate of wanton ooles, Tell me of Fencers and a tale of Fate? No, scilla thinkes of nothing but a state. VVhy scilla I am armd the worst to trie. I pray thee then Lucretius let him die. Beshrow me Lords but in this iolly vame, Twere pitty but the prating foole were slaine: I feare me Pluto will be wroth with me, For to detaine so graue a man as he. But seeke not scilla in this quiet state, To worke reuenge vpon an aged man, A senator, a soueraigne of this towne. The more the Cedar climes the sooner down And did I thinke the prowdest man in Rome, VVould winch at that which I haue wrought or done, I would and can controwle his insolence. VVhy senators, is this the true reward, VVherewith you answere Princes for their paine, As when this sword hath made our Citie free, A brauing mate should thus distemper mee? But Lepidus and fellow senators, I am resolude and will not brooke your taunts, VVho wrongeth scilla, let him looke for stripes. I but the milder passions show the For as the leafe doth beautifie the tree, The pleasant flowres bedecke the painted spring, Euen so in men of greatest reach and powre, A milde and piteous thought augments renowne▪ Old Anthony did neuer see my Lord, A swelling showre that did continue long, A climing towre that did not tast the wind, A wrathfull man not wasted with repent, I speake of loue my Scilla, and of ioy To see how fortune lends a pleasant gale, Vnto the spreading sailes of thy desires: And louing thee must counsaile thee withall, For as by cutting fruitfull vines increase, So faithfull counsailes workes a Princes peace. Thou hony talking father speake thy minde. My Scilla scarce those teares are dried vp, That Romaine Matrons wept to see this warre: Along the holy streets the hideous grones, Of murthered men infect the weeping aire: Thy foes are led not ouertaken yet, And doubtfull is the hazard of this warre: Yea doubtfull is the hazard of this warre, For now our Legions draw their wastfull swords, To murther whom? Euen Romaine Citizens. To conquer whom? Euen Romaine Citizens. Then if that Scilla loue these Citizens, If care of Rome, if threat of forraine foes, If fruitfull counsailes of thy forward friends May take effect, goe fortunate and driue, The king of Pontus out of Asia, Least while we dreame on ciuill mutenies, Our wary foes assaile our Citie walls. My long concealed thoughts Marke Anthony, Must seeke discouerie through thy pliant words: Beleeue me Scilla ciuill mutenies, Must not obscure thy glories and our names: Then sith that factious Marius is supprest, Goe spread thy colours midst the Asian fields, Meane while my selfe will watch this Cities weale.