Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T12: iupiter, saturn, iuno, venus, gods, mars, earth, titan, love, fair.
And I at last have kindled civil war, That from their thoughts which now no reason bounds, Not only laws, but Nature's laws doth bar, The son the sire, the brother brother wounds. Whilst th'Eagles are opposed to th'Eagles so, O what contentment doth my mind contain: No wound is wrong bestowed, each kills a foe, whatever side doth lose I always gain. But this my soul exceedingly annoys, All are not subject to the like mishap: The war helps some as others it destroys, And those that hate me most, have still best hap. Whilst with their blood their glory thousands spend, Ah, ones advancement aggravates my woe: That vaunts himself from Venus to descend, As if he claimed by kind to be my foe. I mean the man whose thoughts nought can appease Whilst them too high a blind ambition bends, Whom as her minion Fortune bent to please, Her rarest treasures prodigally spends. Not only hath he daunted by the sword, The Gaules, the Germans, and th'Aegyptians now, But of all lords pretends to be made lord, That who command the world to him may bow. Thus dispossessing princes of their thrones, Whilst his ambition nothing can assuage: That the subjected world in bondage groans, The prey of pride, the sacrifice of rage. Men rail on Ioue, and sigh for Saturn's time, And to the present still th'Age past prefer: Then burden would the gods with every crime, And damn the heavens where only th'earth doth err. Though Ioue as stupid still with Cupid sports, And not the humour of proud Caesar spies: That may (if forcing thus the world's chief forts) More powerful than the Titans scale the skies. Yet lest he thrall him too that none free leaves, We from the bounds above must him repel: To brawl with Pluto in th'umbrageous caves, There since he will be first made first in hell. What? with that tyrant I will straight be even, And send his soul to the Tartarian grove: For though Joan be not jealous of his heaven, Yet Iuno must be jealous of her Ioue; And though none in the heaven would do him ill, He raise up some in th'earth to haste his death; Yea though both heaven and earth neglect my will, Hell can afford me ministers of wrath. I'll cross Cocytus and the smoking lakes, To borrow all my brother's damned bands: The Furies armed with firebrands and with snakes, Shall plant their hell where Rome so stately stands. Whilst by my fury Furies furious made, Do spare the dead to have the lilting pined: O with what joy will I that army lead? Nought than revenge more sweet t'a wronged mind. I'll once make this a memorable age, By this high vengeance that I have conceived: But what though thousands die t'appease my rage? So Caesar perish, let no soul be saved.
seed 43: T53 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
And I at laſt haue kindled ciuill warre, That from their thoughts which now no reaſon bounds, Not only lawes, but Natures lawes doth barre, The ſonne the ſire, the brother brother wounds. Whilſt th'Eagls are oppoſde to th'Eagles ſo, O what contentment doth my mind containe: No wround is wrong beſtow'd, each killes a foe, What euer ſide doth loſe I alwayes gaine. But this my ſoule exceedingly annoyes, All are not ſubiect to the like miſ-hap: The warre helps ſome as others it deſtroyes, And thoſe that hate me moſt, haue ſtill beſt hap. Whilſt with their blood their glory thouſands ſpend, Ah, ones aduauncement aggrauates my woe: That vaunts himſelfe from Venus to deſcend, As if he claimd by kinde to be my foe. I meane the man whoſe thoughts nought can appeaſe Whilſt them too high a blinde ambition bends, Whom as her minion Fortune bent to pleaſe, Her rareſt treaſures prodigally ſpends. Not onely hath he daunted by the ſword, The Gaules, the Germans, and th'Aegyptians now, But of all lordes pretends to be made lord, That who commaund the world to him may bow. Thus diſpoſſeſſing princes of their thrones, Whilſt his ambition nothing can aſſwage: That the ſubiected world in bondage grones, The prey of pride, the ſacrifice of rage. Men raile on Ioue, and ſigh for Saturnes time, And to the preſent ſtill th'Age paſt preferre: Then burden would the gods with euery crime, And damne the heauens where only th'earth doth erre. Though Ioue as ſtupid ſtill with Cupid ſportes, And not the humor of prowd Caeſar ſpies: That may (if forcing thus the worlds chiefe forts) More powrefull than the Titans ſcale the skies. Yet leſt hee thrall him too that none free leaues, We from the bounds aboue muſt him repell: To brawle with Pluto in th'vmbragious caues, There ſince he will be firſt made firſt in hell. What? with that tyrant I will ſtrait be euen, And ſend his ſoule to the Tartarian groue: For though Ione be not iealous of his heauen, Yet Iuno muſt be iealous of her Ioue; And though none in the heauem would do him ill, He raiſe vp ſome in th'earth to haſte his death; Yea though both heauen and earth neglect my will, Hell can afford me miniſters of wrath. Ile croſſe Cocytus and the ſmoaking lakes, To borrow all my brothers damned bandes: The Furies arm'd with firebrands and with ſnakes, Shall plant their hell where Rome ſo ſtately ſtands. Whilſt by my furie Furies furious made, Do ſpare the dead to haue the lilting pin'd: O with what ioy will I that armie leade? Nought than reuenge more ſweet t'a wronged minde. Ile once make this a memorable age, By this high vengeance that I haue conceiu'd: But what though thouſands die t'appeaſe my rage? So Caeſar periſh, let no ſoule be ſau'd.