The Wounds of Civil War, or Marius and Scilla · chunk 28 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 0.78 · 520 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
And like a careful shepherd have foreseen The heavy dangers of this City Rome, And made the citizens the happy flock Whom I have fed with counsels and advice, But now those locks that for their reverend white, Surpass the down on Aesculapius chin: But now that tongue whose terms and fluent style For number past the hosts of heavenly fires: But now that head within whose subtle brains The Queene of flowring eloquence did wh: These locks, this tongue, this head, the life and all, To please a tyrant traitorously must fall. Why how now soldiers is he living yet? And will you be bewitched with his words? Then take this fee false Orator from me, Elysium best beseems thy faintful limbs. Oh blissful pain, now Anthony must die, Which served and loud Rome and her Empery. Go curtal off that neck with present stroke, And straight present it unto Marius. even in this head did all the Muses dwell: The bees that sat upon the Grecians lips, distilled their honey on his tempered tongue. The crystal dew of fair Castalian springs, With gentle floatings trickled on his brains: The Graces kissed his kind and courteous brows, Apollo gave the beauties of his harp, And melodies unto his pliant speech. Leave these presumptuous praises, countrymen, And see Lectorius pensive where he comes, Lo here my Lord the head of Anthony, See here the guerdon fit for Marius' foe, Whom dread Apollo prosper in his rule. Oh Romans, Marius sleeps among the dead, And Rome laments the loss of such a friend. A sudden and a woeful chance my Lord, Which we intentive fain would understand. Though swollen with sighs my heart for sorrow burst, And tongue with tears and plaints be choked up, Yet will I furrow forth with forced breath A speedy passage to my pensive speech. Our Consul Marius, worthy soldiers, Of late within a pleasant plot of ground, Sat down for pleasure here a crystal spring, Accompanied with many Lords of Rome: Bright was the day, and on the spreading trees The frolic citizens of forest lung Their lays and merry notes on perching boughs: When suddenly appeared in the East, seven mighty Eagles with their talents fierce, Who waving oft about our consuls head, At last with hideous cry did scare away. When suddenly old Marius all aghast, With reverent smile determined with a sigh The doubtful silence of the standers by. Romans (said he) old Marius now must die. These seven fair Eagles, birds of mighty Ioue, That at my birth day on my cradle sat, Now at my last day arm me to my death: And lo I feel the deadly pangs approach. What should I more? in brief, with many prayers For Rome, his son, his goods and lands disposed, Our worthy Consul to our wonder died. The City is amazed, for Sulla hasts To enter Rome with fury, sword, and fire. Go, place that head upon the Capitol, And to your wards, for dangers are at hand. Had we foreseen this luckless chance before, Old Anthonie had lived and breathed yet.
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)
And like a carefull shepheard haue foreseene The heauie dangers of this Citie Rome, And made the citizens the happie flocke Whom I haue fed with counsailes and aduice, But now those lockes that for their reuerend white, Surpasse the downe on Aesculapius chin: But now that tongue whose termes and fluent stile For number past the hoasts of heauenly fires: But now that head within whose braines The Queene of flowring eloquence did wh: These lockes, this tongue, this head, the life and all, To please a tyrant traitrously must fall. VVhy how now soldiers is he liuing yet? And will you be bewitched with his words? Then take this fee false Orator from me, Elizium best beseemes thy faintfull lims. Oh blisfull paine, now Anthony must die, VVhich serud and loud Rome and her Emperie. Goe curtall off that necke with present stroke, And straight present it vnto Marius. Euen in this head did all the Muses dwell: The bees that sate vpon the Grecians lips, Distild their honnie on his tempred tongue. The christall dew of faire Castalian springs, VVith gentle floatings trickled on his braines: The Graces kist his kinde and curteous browes, Apollo gaue the beauties of his harpe, And melodies vnto his pliant speech. Leaue these presumptuous praises, countrimen, And see Lectorius pensiue where he comes, Loe here my Lord the head of Anthony, See here the guerdon fit for Marius foe, Whom dread Apollo prosper in his rule. Oh Romanes, Marius sleepes among the dead, And Rome laments the losse of such a frend. A sodaine and a wofull chance my Lord, VVhich we intentiue faine would vnderstand. Thogh swolne with sighs my hart for sorrow burst, And tongue with teares and plaints be choaked vp, Yet will I furrow forth with forced breath A speedie passage to my pensiue speech. Our Consull Marius, worthie souldiers, Of late within a pleasant plot of ground, Sate downe for pleasure ere a christall spring, Accompanied with manie Lords of Rome: Bright was the day, and on the spredding trees The frolicke citizens of forrest lung Their layes and merrie notes on pearching boughes: VVhen suddenly appeared in the East, Seauen mightie Eagles with their tallents fierce, VVho wauing oft about our Consulls head, At last with hideous crie did sare away. VVhen suddenly old Marius all agast, With reuerent smile determinde with a sigh The doubtfull silence of the standers by. Romanes (said he) old Marius now must die. These seuen faire Eagles, birds of mightie Ioue, That at my birth day on my cradle sate, Now at my last day arme me to my death: And loe I feele the deadly pangs approach. VVhat should I more? in briefe, with manie praiers For Rome, his sonne, his goods and lands disposd, Our worthie Consull to our wonder dide. The Citie is amazde, for Scilla hasts To enter Rome with furie, sword, and fire. Goe, place that head vpon the Capitoll, And to your wards, for dangers are at hand. Had we foreseene this luckles chance before, Old Anthonie had liude and breathed yet.