Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
GReat Honours are great burdens: But, on whom theyare cast with envy, he doth bear two loads. His cares must still be double to his joys, In any Dignity; where, if he err He finds no pardon: and, for doing well A most small praise, and that wrung out, by force. I speak this, Romans, knowing what the weight Of the high charge, you ' have trusted to me, is. Not, that thereby I would with art decline The good, or greatness of your benefit; For, I ascribe it to your singular grace And vow, to owe it to no title else, Except the Gods, that Cicero'is your Consul. I have no urns; no dusty monuments; No broken images of ancestors, Wanting an ear, or nose; no forged tables Of long descents, to boast false honours from; Or be my undertakers to your trust. But a new Man (as I am styled in Rome) Whom you have dignified; and more, in whom You've cut a way, and left it open for virtue Hereafter, to that place, which our Great men Held shut up, with all rampires, for themselves. Nor have but few of them, in time been made Your Consuls so; New men, before me, none: At my first suit; In my just year; Preferred To all competitors; and some the noblest. Now the vain swells. Up glory. And to have Your loud consents, from your own uttered voices; Not silent books: nor from the meaner tribes, But first, and last, the universal concourse. This is my joy, my gladness. But my care, My industry, and vigilance now must work, That still your counsel of me be approved; Both, by yourselves, and those, to whom you have, With grudge, preferred me: Two things I must labour, That neither they upbraid, nor you repent you. For every lapse of mine will, now, be called Your error; if I make such: But, my hope is, So to bear through, and out, the Consulship, As spite shall ne'er wound you, though it may me. And, for myself, I have prepared this strength, To do so well; as, if there happen ill Unto me, it shall make the Gods to blush, And be their crime, not mine, that I am envied; O confidence! more new, then is the Man! I know well, in what terms I do receive The Common wealth, how vexed, how perplexed: In which, there's not that mischief, or ill fate, That good men fear not, wicked men expect not. I know, beside, some turbulent practices Already on foot, and rumours of more dangers, Or you will make them, if there be none. Last, I know, 'twas this, which made the envy, and pride Of the Great Roman blood bate, and give way To my election. Marcus Tullius, true; Our need made thee our Consul, and thy virtue. Cato, you will undo him, with your praise. Caesar will hurt himself, with his own envy. The voice of Cato is the voice of Rome.
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)
GReat Honors are great burdens: But, on whom They'are cast with enuy, he doth beare two loades. His cares must still be double to his ioyes, In any Dignity; where, if he erre He findes no pardon: and, for doing well A most small praise, and that wrung out, by force. I speake this, Romanes, knowing what the weight Of the high charge, you 'haue trusted to me, is. Not, that thereby I would with art decline The good, or greatnesse of your benefit; For, I ascribe it to your singular grace And vow, to owe it to no title else, Except the Gods, that Cicero'is your Consul. I haue no vrnes; no dustie moniments; No broken images of ancestors, Wanting an eare, or nose; no forged tables Of long descents, to boast false honors from; Or be my vndertakers to your trust. But a new Man (as I am stil'd in Rome) Whom you haue dignified; and more, in whom Yo'haue cut a way, and left it ope for vertue Hereafter, to that place, which our Great men Held shut vp, with all rampires, for themselues. Nor haue but few of them, in time bene made Your Consuls so; New men, before mee, none: At my first suite; In my iust yeare; Preferd To all competitors; and some the noblest. Now the vaine swels. Vp glory. And to haue Your lowde consents, from your owne vtter'd voyces; Not silent bookes: nor from the meaner tribes, But first, and last, the vniuersall concourse. This is my ioy, my gladnesse. But my care, My industrie, and vigilance now must worke, That still your counsell of me be approu'd; Both, by your selues, and those, to whom you haue, With grudge, prefer'd mee: Two things I must labour, That neither they vpbraid, nor you repent you. For euery lapse of mine will, now, be call'd Your error; if I make such: But, my hope is, So to beare through, and out, the Consulship, As spight shall ne're wound you, though it may mee. And, for my selfe, I haue prepar'd this strength, To do so well; as, if there happen ill Vnto me, it shall make the Gods to blush, And be their crime, not mine, that I am enui'd; O confidence! more new, then is the Man! I know well, in what termes I doe receiue The Common wealth, how vexed, how perplex'd: In which, there's not that mischiefe, or ill fate, That good men feare not, wicked men expect not. I know, beside, some turbulent practises Alreadie on foote, and rumors of moe dangers, Or you will make them, if there be none. Last, I know, 'twas this, which made the enuy, and pride Of the Great Romane bloud bate, and giue way To my election. Marcus Tullius, true; Our neede made thee our Consull, and thy vertue. Cato, you will vndoe him, with your praise. Caesar will hurt himselfe, with his owne enuie. The voyce of Cato is the voyce of Rome.