Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
And'tis that just revenge doth make me happy To hear you prosecute: and which, indeed, Hath won me, to you, more, than all the hope Of what can else be promised. I love valour Better, than any Lady loves her face, Or dressing: than myself does. Let me grow Still, where I do embrace. But what good means Ha' you t'effect it? Shall I know your project? Thou shalt, if thou'lt be gracious. As I can be. And wilt thou kiss me, then? As close as shells Of Cockles meet. And print 'em deep? Quite through Our subtle lips. And often? I will sow 'hem. Faster than you can reap. What is your plot? Why, now my Fulvia looks, like her bright name, And is herself. Nay, answer me, your plot: I pray thee tell me, Quintus. ay, these sounds Become a Mistress. Here is harmony. When you are harsh, I see, the way to bend you Is not with violence, but service. Cruel, A Lady is a fire, gentle, a light. Will you not tell me, what I ask you? All, That I can think, sweet Love, or my breast holds, I'll pour into thee. What is your design, then? I'll tell thee; Catiline shall now be Consul: But, you will hear more, shortly. Nay, dear love. I'll speak it, in thine arms; Let us go in. Rome will be sacked, her wealth will be our prize; By public ruin, private spirits must rise. GReat Father Mars, and greater Ioue, By whose high auspice, Rome hath stood So long; and, first, was built in blood Of your great Nephew, that then strove Not with his brother, but your Rites: Be present to her now, as then, And let not proud, and factious Men Against your wills oppose their mights. Our Consuls, now, are to be made; O, put it in the public voice To make a free, and worthy choice; Excluding such as would invade The Common wealth. Let whom we name Have wisdom, foresight, fortitude, Be more with faith, than face endued, And study conscience, above fame. Such, as not seek to get the start In State, by power, parts, or bribes, Ambition's bawds; but move the Tribes By Virtue, modesty, desert. Such, as to justice will adhaere, What ever great one it offend, And from the embraced truth not bend For envy, hatred, gifts, or fear. That, by their deeds, will make it known, Whose dignity they do sustain; And life, state, glory, all they gain, Count the Republics, not their own. Such the old Bruti, Deccis were, The Cipi, Curtij, who did give Themselves for Rome: And would not live, As men, good, only for a year. Such were the great Camilli, too; The Fabiuses, Seipio's; that still thought No work, at price enough, was bought, That for their Country they could do. And, to her honour, so did knit; As all their acts were understood The sinews of the Public good: And they themselves, one soul, with it. These men were truly Magistrates; These neither practised force, nor forms; Nor did they leave the helm, in storms: And such they are make happy States.
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'tis that iust reuenge doth make me happy To heare you prosequute: and which, indeede, Hath wonne me, to you, more, then all the hope Of what can else be promis'd. I loue valour Better, then any Ladie loues her face, Or dressing: then my selfe do's. Let me grow Still, where I doe embrace. But what good meanes Ha' you t'effect it? Shall I know your proiect? Thou shalt, if thou'lt be gracious. As I can be. And wilt thou kisse me, then? As close as shels Of Cockles meet. And print 'hem deep? Quite through Our subtle lips. And often? I will sow 'hem. Faster then you can reape. What is your plot? Why, now my Fuluia lookes, like her bright name, And is her selfe. Nay, answere me, your plot: I pray thee tell me, Quintus. I, these sounds Become a Mistresse. Here is harmony. When you are harsh, I see, the way to bend you Is not with violence, but seruice. Cruell, A Lady is a fire, gentle, a light. Will you not tell me, what I aske you? All, That I can thinke, sweet Loue, or my breast holds, Ile poure into thee. What is your designe, then? Ile tell thee; Catiline shall now be Consull: But, you will heare more, shortly. Nay, deare Loue. Ile speake it, in thine armes; Let vs goe in. Rome will be sack'd, her wealth will be our prize; By publique ruine, priuate spirits must rise. GReat Father Mars, and greater Ioue, By whose high auspice, Rome hath stood So long; and, first, was built in blood Of your great Nephew, that then stroue Not with his brother, but your Rites: Be present to her now, as then, And let not proud, and factious Men Against your willes oppose their mights. Our Consuls, now, are to be made; O, put it in the publique voice To make a free, and worthy choice; Excluding such as would inuade The Common wealth. Let whom we name Haue wisedome, foresight, fortitude, Be more with faith, then face endu'd, And study conscience, aboue ame. Such, as not seeke to get the start In State, by power, parts, or bribes, Ambition's baudes; but moue the Tribes By Vertue, modesty, desart. Such, as to iustice will adhaere, What euer great one it offend, And from the' embraced truth not bend For enuie, hatred, gifts, or feare. That, by their deedes, will make it knowne, Whose dignity they doe sustaine; And life, state, glory, all they gaine, Count the Republiques, not their owne. Such the old Bruti, Decij were, The Cipi, Curtij, who did giue Themselues for Rome: And would not liue, As men, good, only for a yeare. Such were the great Camilli, too; The Fabij, Seipio's; that still thought No worke, at price inough, was bought, That for their Countrey they could doe. And, to her honor, so did knit; As all their acts were vnderstood The sinewes of the Publique good: And they themselues, oe soule, with it. These men were truely Magistrates; These neither practis'd force, nor formes; Nor did they leaue the helme, in stormes: And such they are make happy States.