Jonson, Ben · published 1616 · first performed or written 1611 (Annals) tragedy · King's Men T2 Roman politics: senate, consuls and civi typicality 0.83 · 512 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
You'll repent This rashness, CICERO. CAESAR shall repent it. Hold friends. he's scarce a friend unto the public. No violence. CAESAR, be safe. Lead on: Where are the public executioners? Bid 'em wait on us. On, to Spinther's house. Bring LENTULUS forth. Here, you, the sad revengers Of capital crimes, against the public, take This man unto your justice: strangle him. Thou dost well, Consul. 'Twas a cast at dice, In fortune's hand, not long since, that thyself Shouldst have heard these, or other words as fatal. Lead on, to QVINTUS CORNIFICIUS house. Bring forth CETHEGUS. Take him to the due Death, that he hath deserved: and let it be Said, He was once. A beast, or, what is worse, A slave, CETHEGUS. Let that be the name For all that's base, hereafter: That would let This worm pronounce on him; and not have trampled His body into— Ha! Art thou not moved? justice is never angry: Take him hence. O, the whore FORTUNE! and her bawds the Fates! That put these tricks on men, which knew the way To death by a sword. Strangle me, I may sleep: I shall grow angry with the gods, else. Lead To CAIUS, CAESAR, for STATILIUS. Bring him, and rude GABINIUS, out. Here, take 'em To your cold hands, and let 'em feel death from you. I thank you, you do me a pleasure. And me too. So, MARCUS TULLIUS, thou mayst now stand up, And call it happy Rome, thou being Consul. Great parent of thy country, go, and let The old men of the city, ere they die, Kiss thee; the matrons dwell about thy neck; The youths, and maids, lay up, 'gainst they are old, What kind of man thou wert, to tell their nephews, When, such a year, they read, within our Fasti, Thy Consulship. Who's this? PETREIUS? Welcome, Welcome, renowned soldier. What's the news? This face can bring no ill with't, unto Rome. How does the worthy Consul, my colleague? As well as victory can make him, sir. He greets the Fathers, and to me hath trusted The sad relation of the civil strife; For, in such war, the conquest still is black. Shall we withdraw into the house of Concord? No, happy Consul, here; let all ears take The benefit of this tale. If he had voice, To spread unto the poles, and strike it through The centre, to the Antipodes; It would ask it. The straits, and needs of CATILINE being such, As he must fight with one of the two armies, That then had near enclosed him; It pleased Fate, To make us th'object of his desperate choice, Wherein the danger almost poised the honour: And as he ris, the day grew black with him; And Fate descended nearer to the earth, As if she meant, to hide the name of things, Under her wings, and make the world her quarry. At this we roused, lest one small minutes stay Had left it to be inquired, what Rome was. And (as we ought) armed in the confidence
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 2466–2533 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 36 of 37 in this edition
Length
512 words · 739 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T2 — Roman politics: senate, consuls and civil warcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.832 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
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)
You'll repent This rashnesse, CICERO. CAESAR shall repent it. Hold friends. Hee's scarce a friend vnto the publike. No violence. CAESAR, be safe. Leade on: Where are the publike executioners? Bid 'hem wait on vs. On, to SPINTHERS house. Bring LENTVLVS forth. Here, you, the sad reuengers Of capitall crimes, against the publike, take This man vnto your iustice: strangle him. Thou do'st well, Consul. 'Twas a cast at dice, In FORTVNES hand, not long since, that thy selfe Should'st haue heard these, or other words as fatall. Leade on, to QVINTVS CORNIFICIVS house. Bring forth CETHEGVS. Take him to the due Death, that he hath deseru'd: and let it be Said, He was once. A beast, or, what is worse, A slaue, CETHEGVS. Let that be the name For all that's base, hereafter: That would let This worme pronounce on him; and not haue trampled His body into— Ha! Art thou not mou'd? Iustice is neuer angrie: Take him hence. O, the whore FORTVNE! and her bawds the Fates! That put these tricks on men, which knew the way To death by' a sword. Strangle me, I may sleepe: I shall grow angrie with the gods, else. Leade To CAIVS, CAESAR, for STATILIVS. Bring him, and rude GABINIVS, out. Here, take 'hem To your cold hands, and let 'hem feele death from you. I thanke you, you doe me a pleasure. And me too. So, MARCVS TVLLIVS, thou maist now stand vp, And call it happy Rome, thou being Consul. Great parent of thy countrie, goe, and let The old men of the citie, ere they die, Kisse thee; the matrons dwell about thy necke; The youths, and maides, lay vp, 'gainst they are old, What kind of man thou wert, to tell their nephewes, When, such a yeere, they reade, within our Fasti, Thy Consul-ship. Who's this? PETREIVS? Welcome, Welcome, renowned souldier. What's the newes? This face can bring no ill with't, vnto Rome. How do's the worthy Consul, my colleague? As well as victorie can make him, sir. He greets the Fathers, and to me hath trusted The sad relation of the ciuill strife; For, in such warre, the conquest still is black. Shall we with-draw into the house of Concord? No, happy Consul, here; let all eares take The benefit of this tale. If he had voyce, To spread vnto the poles, and strike it through The center, to the Antipodes; It would aske it. The streights, and needs of CATILINE being such, As he must fight with one of the two armies, That then had neere enclos'd him; It pleas'd Fate, To make vs th'obiect of his desperate choise, Wherein the danger almost paiz'd the honor: And as he riss', the day grew black with him; And Fate descended neerer to the earth, As if shee meant, to hide the name of things, Vnder her wings, and make the world her quarrie. At this we rous'd, lest one small minutes stay Had left it to be' enquir'd, what Rome was. And (as we ought) arm'd in the confidence