The Wounds of Civil War, or Marius and Scilla · chunk 21 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 0.83 · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
To quite his love, Cinna let me alone, How fare these Lords that lumping pouting proud Imagine how to quell me with their looks. No welcome sirs, is Marius thought so base? Why stand you looking babies in my face? Who welcomes me, him Marius makes his friend: Who lowers on me, him Marius means to end. Happy and fortunate thy return to Rome. And long Marius live with fame in Rome. I thank you courteous Lords that are so kind. But why endures your Grace that braving mate To sit and face us in his robes of state. My son he is a Consul at the least, And gravity becomes Octavius best. But Cinna would in yonder empty seat, You would for Marius' freedom once entreat. avant thou traitor, proud and insolent, How darest thou press new civil government. Why Master Consul, are you grown so hot? He have a present cooling card for you. Be therefore well advised, and move me not: For though by you I was exiled from Rome, And in the desert from a PRINCE's seat Left to bewail ingratitudes of Rome. Though I have known your thirsty throats have longed To baine their selves in my distilling blood. Yet Marius Sirs, hath pity joined with power: Lo here the Imperial Ensign which I wield, That waveth mercy to my wishers well: And more see here the dangerous troth of war, That at the point is steeled with ghastly death. Thou exile, threatenest thou a Consul then? Lictors, go draw him hence: such braving mates, Are not to boast their arms in quiet states. Go draw me hence. What no relent Octavius? My Lord what heart indurate with revenge, Could leave this lozel, threatening murder thus? Vouchsafe me leave to taint that traitor's seat With flowing streams of his contagious blood. The father's son, I know him by his talk, That scolds in words when fingers cannot walk. But Ioue I hope will one day send to Rome The blessed Patron of this Monarchy, Who will revenge injustice by his sword. Such braving hopes, such cursed arguments, So strict command, such arrogant controls. Suffer me Marius, that am Consul now, To do thee justice, and confound the wretch. Cinna, you know I am a private man, That still submit my censures to your will. Then soldiers draw this traitor from the throne, And let him die, for Cinna will it so. I now my Cinna, noble Consul speaks, Octavius, your checks shall cost you dear. And let me die for Cinna will it so? Is then the reverence of this rob contemned? Are these associates of so small regard? Why then Octavius willingly consents, To entertain the sentence of his death. But let the proudest traitor work his will, I fear no strokes, but here will sit me still. Since justice sleeps, since tyrant's reign in Rome, Octavius longs for death to die for Rome.
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)
To quite his loue, Cynna let me alone, How fare these Lords that lumping pouting proud Imagine how to quell me with their lookes. No welcome sirs, is Marius thought so base? VVhy stand you looking babies in my face? VVho welcomes mee, him Marius makes his frend: VVho lowres on mee, him Marius meanes to end. Happie and fortunate thy returne to Rome. And long Marius liue with fame in Rome. I thanke you curteous Lords that are so kinde. But why endures your Grace that brauing mate To sit and face vs in his roabes of state. My sonne he is a Consull at the least, And grauitie becomes Octauius best. But Cynna would in yonder emptie seat, You would for Marius freedome once intreate. Auant thou traitor, proud and insolent, How darest thou presse nee ciuill gouernment. VVhy Master Consull, are you growne so hot? He haue a present cooling card for you. Be therefore well aduisde, and moue me not: For though by you I was exilde from Rome, And in the desart from a Princes seate Left to bewaile ingratitudes of Rome. Though I haue knowne your thirshe throates haue longd To baine their selues in my distilling blood. Yet Marius Sis, hath pitie ioynd with powre: Loe here the Imperiall Ensigne which I wield, That waueth mercie to my wishers well: And more see here the dangerous trote of warre, That at the point is steeld with ghastly death. Thou exile, threatnest thou a Consull then? Lictors, goe draw him hence: such brauing mates, Are not to boast their armes in quiet states. Go draw me hence. VVhat no relent Octauius▪ My Lord what hart in durate with reuenge, Could leaue this lossell, threatning murther thus? Vouchsafe me leaue to taint that traitors seate VVith flowing streames of his contagious blood. The fathers sonne, I know him by his talke, That scolds in words when fingers cannot walke. But Ioue I hope will one day send to Rome The blessed Patron of this Monarchie, VVho will reuenge iniustice by his sword▪ Such brauing hopes, such cursed arguments, So strict command, such arrogant controwles. Suffer me Marius, that am Consull now, To doo thee iustice, and confound the wretch▪ Cynna, you know I am a priuate man, That still submit my censures to your will. Then souldiers draw this traitor from the throne, And let him die, for Cynna wills it so. I now my Cynna, noble Consull speakes, Octauius, your checkes shall cost you deare. And let me die for Cynna wills it so? Is then the reuerence of this robe contemnnd? Are these associates of so small regard? VVhy then Octauius willingly consents, To entertaine the sentence of his death. But let the proudest traitor worke his will, I feare no strokes, but here will sit me still. Since iustice sleepes, since tyrants raigne in Rome, Octauius longs for death to die for Rome.