Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
Thou seest in what a state the state now stands, Of whose strong pillars Caesar spoiled the best: Whilst by his own preventing others hands, Our famous father fell amongst the rest. That insolent usurper doth presume To re-erect detested Tarquin's throne, Thus the world's mistress all-commanding Rome, Must entertain no minion now but one. Th'old blood of Mars that marks to what he tends, Swells with disdain, their countries scorn to see, And I'm one of the number that intends By his death, or mine own, to be made free. And without me can thou resolve so soon T'assay the dangers of a doubtful strife? As if despaired and always to b'undone, Being tired of me, yea tired of thy life. Yet since thou thus thy rash design hath shown, Leave Portias portion, venture not her part: Endanger nought but that which is thine own, Go where thou lik'st, I will hold still thy heart. But lest by holding of thy best part back, That th'other perish t'aggravate my groans, That would be so thought guilty of thy wrack, Take all thy treasure to the Seas at once. Like th'Asian monarchs wife that with short hairs, (Sad signs of bondage) past still where he passed, To wear away, or bear away thy cares, I'll follow thee, and of thy fortune taste. These hands that were with my own blood imbrued, To strike another may more strength afford: At least when thou by th'enemy art pursued, I'll set myself betwixt thee and his sword. But if too great a privilege I claim, Whose actions all should be disposed by thee: Ah, pardon me (dear Brutus,) do but blame These my excessive sorrows, and not me. Thou ask'st what thou shouldst give, forgive dear mate, This venturous course of mine, which must have place, Though it make fortune tyrant of our state, Whose fickle footsteps virtue grieves to trace. And wonder not, though this towards thee I prove, Since private passions now all power have left; For I regard not glory, profit, love, Nor no respect that doth import me most: So to the land of which I hold my life, I may perform the work that I intend, Let me be called unkind unto my wife: Yea worst of all, ingrate unto my friend: But as th'instinct of nature makes us know, There are degrees of duty to be passed: Of which the first we to th'immortals owe, The next t'our Country, and t'our friends the last. Proud tyrants from his native bounds to drive, Did th'author of my race with ardent zeal, Make those to die whom he had made to live, And spoiled himself to advance the commonweal? To raise the state which Caesar now o'erthrows, That bred so many brave men whilst it stood, He with the Tyrant interchanging blows, Most gloriously did offer up his blood. And did that man t'oppress the common foe, Then damn his sons to death? and with dry eyes? And is his successor degenered so, That he in abject bondage basely lies?
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)
Thou ſeeſt in what a ſtate the ſtate now ſtands, Of whoſe ſtrong pillars Caeſar ſpoil'd the beſt: Whilſt by his owne preuenting others handes, Our famous father fell amongſt the reſt. That inſolent vſurper doth preſume To re-erect deteſted Tarquines throne, Thus the worlds miſtreſſe all-commanding Rome, Muſt entertaine no minion now but one. Th'old blood of Mars that marks to what he tends, Swells with diſdaine, their countryes ſcorne to ſee, And I'm one of the number that intends By his death, or mine owne, to be made free. And without me can thou reſolue ſo ſoone T'aſſay the dangers of a doubtfull ſtrife? As if diſpair'd and alwayes to b'vndone, Being tyr'd of me, yea tyr'd of thy life. Yet ſince thou thus thy raſh deſigne hath ſhowne, Leaue Portias portion, venter not her part: Endanger nought but that which is thine owne, Go where thou lik'ſt, I will hold ſtill thy heart. But leſt by holding of thy beſt part backe, That th'other periſh t'aggrauate my grones, That would be ſo thonght guiltie of thy wrack, Take all thy treaſure to the Seaes at once. Like th'Aſian Monarks wife that with ſhort haires, (Sad ſignes of bondage) paſt ſtill where he paſt, To weare away, or beare away thy cares, Ile folow thee, and of thy fortune taſte. Theſe hands that were with my owne blood imbru'd, To ſtrike another may more ſtrength afford: At leaſt when thou by th'enemie art purſu'de, Ile ſet my ſelfe betwixt thee and his ſword. But if too great a priuiledge I claime, Whoſe actions all ſhould be diſpoſde by thee: Ah, pardon me (deare Brutus,) do but blame Theſe my exceſſiue ſorrowes, and not mee. Thou ask'ſt what thou ſhouldſt giue, forgiue deare mate, This ventrous courſe of mine, which muſt haue place, Though it make fortune tyrant of our ſtate, Whoſe fickle foot-ſteps vertue grieues to trace. And wonder not, though this towards thee I proue, Since priuate paſſions now all powre haue left; For I regard not glory, profit, loue, Nor no reſpect that doth import me moſt: So to the land of which I hold my life, I may performe the worke that I intend, Let me be call'd vnkind vnto my wife: Yea worſt of all, ingrate vnto my friend: But as th'inſtinct of nature makes vs know, There are degrees of dutie to be paſt: Of which the firſt we to th'immortalls owe, The next t'our Countrey, and t'our friends the laſt. Prowd tyrants from his natiue bounds to driue, Did th'author of my race with ardent zeale, Make thoſe to die whom he had made to liue, And ſpoild himſelfe to aduance the commonweale? To raiſe the ſtate which Caeſar now ore-throwes, That bred ſo many braue men whilſt it ſtood, He with the Tyrant interchanging blowes, Moſt gloriouſly did offer vp his blood. And did that man t'oppreſſe the common fo, Then damne his ſonnes to death? and with drie eyes? And is his ſucceſſor degenerd ſo, That he in abiect bondage baſely lyes?