Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1603 (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 540 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Then, there begin your pity. There is enough behind, to melt e'en Rome, And CAESAR into tears: (since never slave Could yet so highly offend, but tyranny, In torturing him, would make him worth lamenting.) A son, and daughter, to the dead Sejanus, (Of whom there is not now so much remaining As would give fastening to the hangman's hook) have they drawn forth for farther sacrifice; Whose tenderness of knowledge, unripe years, And childish silly innocence was such, As scarce would lend them feeling of their danger: The girl so simple, as she often asked, Where they would lead her? for what cause they dragged her? Cried, she would do no more. That she could take Warning with beating. And because our laws Admit no virgin immature to die, The wittily, and strangely-cruel MACRO, Delivered her to be deflowered, and spoiled, By the rude lust of the licentious hangman, Then, to be strangled with her harmless brother. O, act, most worthy hell, and lasting night, To hide it from the world! Their bodies thrown Into the Gemonies, (I know not how, Or by what accident returned) the mother, Th'expulsed APICATA, finds them there; Whom when she saw lie spread on the degrees, After a world of fury on herself, Tearing her hair, defacing of her face, Beating her breasts, and womb, kneeling amazed, Crying to heaven, then to them; at last, Her drowned voice gate up above her woes: And with such black, and bitter execrations, (As might affright the gods, and force the sun Run backward to the east, nay, make the old Deformed CITAOS rise again, t' o'erwhelm Them, us, and all the world) she fills the air; Upbraids the heavens with their partial dooms, Defies their tyrannous powers, and demands, What she, and those poor innocents have transgressed, That they must suffer such a share in vengeance, Whilst LIVIA, LYGDUS, and EUDEMUS live, Who, (as she says, and firmly vows, to prove it To CAESAR, and the Senate) poisoned Drusus? Confederates with her husband? I. Strange act! And strangely opened: what says now my monster, The multitude? they reel now? do they not? Their gall is gone, and now they 'gin to weep The mischief they have done. I thank 'em, rogues! Part are so stupid, or so flexible, As they believe him innocent; all grieve: And some, whose hands yet reek with his warm blood, And gripe the part which they did tear of him, Wish him collected, and created new. How fortune plies her sports, when she begins To practise 'em! pursues, continues, adds! Confounds, with varying her empassioned moods! Dost thou hope fortune to redeem thy crimes? To make amends, for thy ill placed favours, With these strange punishments? Forbear, you things, That stand upon the pinnacles of state, To boast your slippery height; when you do fall, You pash yourselves in pieces, near to rise: And he that lends you pity, is not wise. Let this example move th'insolent man, Not to grow proud, and careless of the gods: It is an odious wisdom, to blaspheme, Much more to slighten, or deny their powers. For, whom the morning saw so great, and high, Thus low, and little, 'fore the even doth lie.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Then, there begin your pitty. There is inough behind, to melt eu'n Rome, And CAESAR into teares: (since neuer slaue Could yet so highly offend, but tyrannie, In torturing him, would make him worth lamenting.) A sonne, and daughter, to the dead SEIANVS, (Of whom there is not now so much remayning As would giue fastning to the hang-mans hooke) Haue they drawne forth for farder sacrifice; Whose tendernesse of knowledge, vnripe yeares, And childish silly innocence was such, As scarse would lend them feeling of their danger: The girle so simple, as shee often askt, Where they would lead her? for what cause they drag'd her? Cry'd, shee would doe no more. That shee could take Warning with beating. And because our lawes Admit no virgin immature to die, The wittily, and strangely-cruell MACRO, Deliuer'd her to be deflowr'd, and spoil'd, By the rude lust of the licentious hang-man, Then, to be strangled with her harmelesse brother. O, act, most worthy hell, and lasting night, To hide it from the world! Their bodies throwne Into the Gemonies, (I know not how, Or by what accident return'd) the mother, Th'expulsed APICATA, finds them there; Whom when shee saw lie spred on the degrees, After a world of furie on her selfe, Tearing her haire, defacing of her face, Beating her brests, and wombe, kneeling amaz'd, Crying to heauen, then to them; at last, Her drowned voyce gate vp aboue her woes: And with such black, and bitter execrations, (As might affright the gods, and force the sunne Runne back-ward to the east, nay, make the old Deformed CITAOS rise againe, t' ore-whelme Them, vs, and all the world) shee fills the aire; Vpbraids the heauens with their partiall doomes, Defies their tyrannous powers, and demands, What shee, and those poore innocents haue transgress'd, That they must suffer such a share in vengeance, Whilst LIVIA, LYGDVS, and EVDEMVS liue, Who, (as shee say's, and firmely vowes, to proue it To CAESAR, and the Senate) poyson'd DRVSVS? Confederates with her husband? I. Strange act! And strangely open'd: what say's now my monster, The multitude? they reele now? doe they not? Their gall is gone, and now they 'gin to weepe The mischiefe they haue done. I thanke 'hem, rogues! Part are so stupide, or so flexible, As they beleeue him innocent; all grieue: And some, whose hands yet reeke with his warme bloud, And gripe the part which they did teare of him, Wish him collected, and created new. How fortune plies her sports, when shee begins To practise'hem! pursues, continues, addes! Conounds, with varying her empassion'd moodes! Do'st thou hope fortune to redeeme thy crimes? To make amends, for thy ill placed fauours, With these strange punishments? Forbeare, you things, That stand vpon the pinnacles of state, To boast your slippery height; when you doe fall, You pash your selues in pieces, nere to rise: And he that lends you pitty, is not wise. Let this example mooue th'insolent man, Not to grow proud, and carelesse of the gods: It is an odious wisedome, to blaspheme, Much more to slighten, or denie their powers. For, whom the morning saw so great, and high, Thus low, and little, 'fore the 'euen doth lie.