The Wounds of Civil War, or Marius and Scilla · chunk 37 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 0.80 · 522 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
Grave Senators and Romans, now you see The humble bent of Sulla's changed mind. Now will I leave you Lords, from courtly train To dwell content amidst my country cave, Where no ambitious humours shall approach, The quiet silence of my happy sleep. Where no delicious jouissance or toys, Shall tickle with delight my tempered ears, But wearying out the lingering day with toil, tiring my veins and furrowing of my soul. The silent night with slumber stealing on Shall lock these careful closets of mine eyes. Oh had I known the height of happiness, Or bent mine eyes upon my mother earth: Long since O Rome had Sulla with rejoice Forsaken arms to lead a private life. But in this humbleness of mind my Lord, Whereas experience proved and Art do meet. How happy were these fair Italian fields, If they were graced with so sweet a sun: Then I for Rome and Rome with me requires, That Sulla will abide and govern Rome. O Flaccus, if th'Arabian Phoenix strive By nature's warning to renew her kind, When soaring nigh the glorious eye of heaven, She from her cinders doth revive her sex. Why should not Sulla learn by her to die? That erst have been the Phoenix of this land. And drawing near the sunshine of content, Perish obscure to make your glories grow. For as the higher trees do shield the shrubs, From posting Phlegon's warmth and breathing fire, So mighty men obscure each other's fame, And make the best deservers fortune's game. But ah what sudden furies do affright? What apparitious fantasies are these? Oh let me rest sweet Lords, for why methinks, Some fatal spells are sounded in mine ears. Subsequitur tua Mors: privari lumine Scillam, Numina Parcarumiam iam fera precipiunt. Precipiunt fera iam Parcarum numina, Scillam, Lumine privari, mors tua subsequitur, Elysium petis, o foelix! & fatidici astri: Praescius Heroas, o petis innumeros! Innumeros petis ô Heroas! praescius astri Fatidici: & foelix, o petis Elysium! Ergóne post dulces annos properantia fata? Ergóne iam tenebrae pramia lucis erunt? Attamen, vt vitae fortunam gloria mortis Vincat, in extremo funere cantet olor. How fares my Lord? what dreadful thoughts are these What doubtful answers on a sudden thus? Pompey the man that made the world to stoop, And fettered fortune in the chains of power, Must droop and draw the Chariot of Fate Along the darksome banks of Acheron. The heavens have warned me of my present fall. Oh call Cornelia forth, let Sulla see His daughter Fulvia ere his eyes be shut. Why Sulla, where is now thy wonted hope In greatest hazard of unstaid chance? What shall a little biting blast of pain Blemish the blossoms of thy wonted pride? My Flaccus, worldly joys and pleasures fade, In constant time like to the fleeting tide With endless course man's hopes doth overbear? Nought now remains that Sulla fain would have, But lasting fame when body lies in grave. How fares my Lord? how doth my gentle Sulla? Ah my Cornelia passing happy now. Free from the world, allied unto the heavens, Not curious of incertain chances now.
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)
Graue Senators and Romanes, now you see The humble bent of Scillas changed minde. Now will I leaue you Lords, from courtly traine To dwel content amidst my country caue, VVhere no ambitious humors shall approch▪ The quiet silence of my happy sleepe. Where no delicious Iouisance or toyes, Shall tickle with delight my tempered eares, But wearying out the lingering day with toile, Tyring my veines and furrowing of my soule. The silent night with slumber stealing on Shall locke these carefull closets of mine eies. Oh had I knowne the height of happines, Or bent mine eies vpon my mother earth: Long since O Rome had Scilla with reioyce Forsaken armes to leade a priuate life. But in this humblenes of minde my Lord, VVhereas experience prooude and Art doo meete. How happy were these faire Italian fields, If they were graced with so sweete a sunne: Then I for Rome and Rome with me requires, That Scilla will abide and gouerne Rome. O Flaccus, if th'Arabian Phoenix striue By natures warning to renue her kinde, VVhen soaring nie the glorious eye of heauen, Shee from her cinders doth reuiue her sexe. VVhy should not Scilla learne by her to die? That carst haue beene the Phoenix of this land. And drawing neere the sunne-shine of content, Perish obscure to make your glories growe. For as the higher trees do shield the shrubs, From posting Phlegons warmth and breathing fire, So mighty men obscure each others fame, And make the best deseruers fortunes game. But ah what sodaine fues doo affright? VVhat apparitious fantasies are these? Oh let me rest sweete Lords, for why me thinks, Some fatall spells are sounded in mine eares. Subsequitur tua ors: priuari lumine Scillam, Numina Parcarum am fera precipiunt. Precipiunt fera iam Parcarum numina, Scillam, Lumine priuari, mors tua subsequitur, Elysium petis, ô foelix! & fatidici astri: Praescius Heroas, ô petis innumeros! Innumeros petis ô Heroas! praescius astri Fatidici: & foelix, ô petis Elisium! Ergóne post dulces annos properantia fata? Ergóne iam tenebrae pramia lucis erunt? Attamen, vt vitae fortunam gloria mortis Vincat, in extremo funere cantet olor. How fares my Lord? what dreadful thoughts are these VVhat doubtfull answeres on a sodaine thus? Pompey the man that made the world to stoope, And ettered fortune in the chaines of powre, Must droope and draw the Chariot of Fate Along the darksome bankes of Acheron. The heauens haue warnd me of my present fall. Oh call Cornelia forth, let Scilla see His daughter Fuluia ere his eyes be shut. VVhy Scilla, where is now thy wonted hope In greatest hazard of vnstaied chance? VVhat shall a little biting blast of paine Blemish the blossomes of thy wonted pride? My Flaccus, worldly ioyes and pleasures fade, In constant time like to the fleeting tide VVith endles course mans hopes doth ouer-beare? Nought now remaines that Scilla faine would haue, But lasting fame when bodie lies in graue. How fares my Lord? how doth my gentle Scilla? Ah my Cornelia passing happie now. Free from the world, allied vnto the heauens, Not curious of incertaine chaunces now.