The Wounds of Civil War, or Marius and Scilla · chunk 16 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 0.82 · 494 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
The like assaults attaint my wandering mind. Seeing our bootless war with matchless fate, Let us entreat him to forsake our town, So shall we gain a friend of Rome and him: But mark how happily he doth awake. What, breath I yet poor man, with mounting sight Choking the rivers of my restless eyes? Or is their rage restrained with matchless ruth? See how amazed these angry Lords behold The poor confused looks of wretched Marius. Minturnians why delays your headsman thus To finish up this ruthful tragedy? Far be it Marius from our thoughts or hands To wrong the man protected by the Gods: Live happy (Marius) so thou leave our town. And must I wrestle once again with fate? Or will these Princes dally with mine age? No matchless Roman, thine approved mind That erst hath altered our ambitious wrong Must flourish still, and we thy servants live To see thy glories like the swelling tides Exceed the bounds of Fate and Roman rule. Yet leave us Lord, and seek some safer shed, Where more secure thou mayst prevent mishaps: For great pursuits and troubles thee await. Ye piteous powers that with successful hopes, And gentle counsels thwart my deep despairs: Old Marius to your mercies recommends His hap, his life, his hazard and his son. Minturnians, I will hence, and you shall fly Occasions of those troubles you expect. Dream not on dangers that have fold my life: Lordings adieu, from walls to woods I wend, To hills, dales, rocks, my wrong for to commend. Fortune vouchsafe thy many cares to end. You men of Rome, my fellow mates in Arms, Whose three years prowess, policy, and war, One hundredth three score thousand men at Arms Hath overthrown and murdered in the field: Whose valours to the Empire hath restored, All Grecia, Asia, and Ionia. With Macedonia subject to our foe: You see the froward customs of our state, Who measuring not our many toils abroad, Sit in their Cells imagining our harms, Replenishing our Roman friends with fear. Yea, Sulla worthy friends, whose fortunes, toils, And stratagems these strangers may report, Is by false Cinna and his factious friends. Reviled, condemned, and crossed without a cause. Yet (Romans) Marius must return to Rome, Of purpose to upbraid your General. But this undaunted mind that never drooped: This forward body formed to suffer toil, Shall haste to Rome where every foe shall rue, The rash disgrace both of myself and you: And may it be that those seditious brains, Imagine these presumptuous purposes? And may it be? why man and wilt thou doubt, Where Sulla deigns these dangers to averse? Sirrah except not so, misdoubt not so, See here Ancharius letters read the lines, And say Lucretius that I favour thee, That darest but suspect thy General, The case concealed hath moved the more misdoubt, Yet pardon my presumptions worthy Sulla, That to my grief have read these hideous harms,
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)
The like assaults attaint my wandring minde. Seeing our bootlesse warre with matchlesse fate, Let vs intreat him to forsake our towne, So shall we gaine a frend of Rome and him: But marke how happely he doth awake. What, breath I yet pore man, with mounting sight Choaking the riuers of my restlesse eies? Or is their rage restraind with matchlesse ruth? See how amazd these angrie Lords behold The poore confused lookes of wretched Marius. Minturnians why delaies your headsman thus To finish vp this ruthfull tragedie? Far be it Marius from our thoughts or hands To wrong the man protected by the Gods: Liue happie (Marius) so thou leaue our towne. And must I wrestle once againe with fate? Or will these Princes dally with mine age? No matchles Romane, thine approued minde That earst hath altred our ambitious wrong Must flourish still, and we thy seruants liue To see thy glories like the swelling tides Exceed the bounds of Fate and Romane rule. Yet leaue vs Lord, and seeke some safer shed, Where more secure thou maist preuent mishaps: For great pursuits and troubles thee awaite. Ye piteous powres that with succesfull hopes, And gentle counsailes thwart my deepe dispaires: Olde Marius to your mercies recommends His hap, his life, his hazard and his sonne. Minturnians, I will hence, and you shall flie Occasions of those troubles you expect. Dreame not on dangers that haue faud my life: Lordings adieu, from walls to woods I wend, To hills, dales, rockes, my wrong for to commend. Fortune vouchsafe thy manie cares to end. You men of Rome, my fellow mates in Armes, VVhose three yeares prowesse, pollicie, and warre, One hundreth three score thousand men at Armes Hath ouerthrowne and murthered in the field: VVhose valours to the Empire hath restorde, All Grecia, Asia, and Ionia. VVith Macedonia subiect to our foe: You see the froward customes of our state, VVho measuring not our many toiles abroad, Sit in their Cells imagining our harmes, Replenishing our Romaine friends with feare. Yea, Scilla worthy friends, whose fortunes, toiles, And stratagems these strangers may report, Is by false Cynna and his factious friends. Reuilde, condemnde, and crost without a cause. Ye (Romaines) Marius must returne to Rome, Of purpose to vpbraid your Generall. But this vndunted minde that neuer droopt: This forward bodie formd to suffer toile, Shall hast to Rome where euerie foe shall rue, The rash disgrace both of my selfe and you: And may it be that those seditious braines, Imagine these presumptuous purposes? And may it be? why man and wilt thou doubt, VVhere Scilla daines these dangers to auere? Sirrha except not so, misdoubt not so, See here Ancharius letters reade the lines, And say Lucretius that I fauour thee, That darest but suspect thy Generall, The case conceald hath moued the more misdoub, Yet pardon my presumptions worthy Scilla, That to my griefe haue read these hideous harmes,