Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
What, are we wishing now? Yes, my Cethegus. Who would not fall with all the world about him? Not I, that would stand on it, when it falls; And force new Nature out, to make another. These wish taste of woman, not of Roman. Let us seek other arms. What should we do? Do, & not wish; something, that wishes take not: So sudden, as the Gods should not prevent, Nor scarce have time, to fear. O noble Caius! It likes me better, that you are not Consul. I would not go through open doors, but break 'em; Swim to my ends, through blood; or build a bridge Of carcases; make on, upon the heads Of men, struck down, like piles; to reach the lives Of those remain, and stand: Then is't a prey, When Danger stops, and Ruin makes the way. How thou dost utter me, brave soul, that may not, At all times, show such as I am; but bend Unto occasion? Lentulus, this man, If all our fire were out, would fetch down new, Out of the hand of Ioue; and rivet him To Caucasus, should he but frown: and let His own gaunt Eagle fly at him, to tyre. Peace, here comes Cato. Let him come, and hear. I will no more dissemble. Quit us all; I, and my loved Cethegus here, alone Will undertake this Giant's war, and carry it. What needs this, Lucius? Sergius be more wary. Now, Marcus Cato, our new Consuls spy, What is your sour austerity sent t' explore. Nothing in thee, licentious Catiline: Halters, and racks cannot express from thee More, than thy deeds. 'tis only judgement waits thee. Whose? Cato's? shall he judge me? No, the Gods▪ Who, ever, follow those, they go not with: And Senate; who, with fire, must purge sick Rome Of noisome Citizens, whereof thou art one. Be gone, or else let me. 'tis bane to draw The same air with thee. Strike him. Hold good Caius; Fearest thou not, Cato? Rash Cethegus, no. 'twere wrong with Rome, when Catiline and thou Do threat, if Cato feared. The fire you speak of If any flame of it approach my fortunes, I'll quench it, not with water, but with ruin. You hear this, Romans. Bear it to the Consul. I would have sent away his soul, before him. You are too heavy, Lentulus, and remiss; It is for you we labour, and the Kingdom Promised you by the Sibyll's. Which his Praetorship, And some small flattery of the Senate more, Will make him to forget. You wrong me, Lucius'. He will not need these spurs. The action needs 'hem. These things, when they proceed not, they go backward. Let us consult then. Let us, first, take arms. They that deny us just things, now, will give All that we ask; if once they see our swords. Our objects must be sought with wounds, not words.
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)
What, are we wishing now? Yes, my Cethegus. Who would not fall with all the world about him? Not I, that would stand on it, when it falles; And force new Nature out, to make another. These wishings taste of woman, not of Romane. Let vs seeke other armes. What should we do? Do, & not wish; something, that wishes take not: So sodaine, as the Gods should not preuent, Nor scarce haue time, to feare. O noble Caius! It likes me better, that you are not Consul. I would not goe through open dores, but breake 'hem; Swim to my ends, through bloud; or build a bridge Of carcasses; make on, vpon the heads Of men, strooke downe, like piles; to reach the liues Of those remaine, and stand: Then is't a pray, When Danger stoppes, and Ruine makes the way. How thou dost vtter me, braue soule, that may not, At all times, shew such as I am; but bend Vnto occasion? Lentulus, this man, If all our fire were out, would fetch downe new, Out of the hand of Ioue; and riuet him To Caucasus, should he but frowne: and let His owne gaunt Eagle flie at him, to tire. Peace, here comes Cato. Let him come, and heare. I will no more dissemble. Quit vs all; I, and my lou'd Cethegus here, alone Will vndertake this Giants warre, and cary it. What needs this, Lucius? Sergius be more wary. Now, Marcus Cato, our new Consuls spie, What is your sowre austerity sent t' explore. Nothing in thee, licentious Catiline: Halters, and racks cannot expresse from thee More, then thy deeds. Tis onely iudgement waits thee. Whose? Cato's? shall he iudge me? No, the Gods▪ " VVho, euer, follow those, they go not with: And Senate; who, with fire, must purge sicke Rome Of noysome Citizens, whereof thou art one. Be gone, or else let mee. Tis bane to draw The same ayre with thee. Strike him. Hold good Caius; Fearst thou not, Cato? Rash Cethegus, no. Twere wrong with Rome, when Catiline and thou Do threat, if Cato feard. The fire you speake of If any flame of it approach my fortunes, Ile quench it, not with water, but with ruine. You heare this, Romanes. Beare it to the Consul. I would haue sent away his soule, before him. You are too heauie, Lentulus, and remise; It is for you we labour, and the Kingdome Promis'd you by the Sibyll's. Which his Praetorship, And some small flattery of the Senate more, Will make him to forget. You wrong me, Lucius. He wil not need these spurres. The action needs 'hem. " These things, when they proceed not, they goe backward. Let vs consult then. Let vs, first, take armes. They that denie vs iust things, now, will giue All that we aske; if once they see our swords. Our obiects must be sought with wounds, not words.