Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1608 (Annals) tragedy · King's Men T2 Roman politics: senate, consuls and civi typicality 0.83 · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
Why so: you have made good work: A pair of Tribunes, that have wracked for Rome, To make Coals cheap: A Noble memory. I minded him, how Royal 'twas to pardon When it was less expected. He replied It was a bare petition of a State To one whom they had punished. Very well, could he say less. I offered to awaken his regard For's private Friends. His answer to me was He could not stay to pick them, in a pile Of noisome musty Chaff. He said, 'twas folly For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt And still to nose th' offence. For one poor grain or two? I am one of those: his Mother, Wife, his Child, And this brave Fellow too: we are the Grains, You are the musty Chaff, and you are smelled Above the Moon. We must be burnt for you. Nay, pray be patiented: If you refuse your aid In this so neuer-needed help, yet do not Vpbraid's with our distress. But sure if you Would be your Country's Pleader, your good tongue More than the instant Army we can make Might stop our Countryman. No: I'll not meddle. Pray you go to him. What should I do? Only make trial what your Love can do, For Rome, towards Martius. Well, and say that Martius return me, As Cominius is returned, unheard: what then? But as a discontented Friend, greefe-shot With his unkindness. Say't be so? Yet your good will Must have that thankes from Rome, after the measure As you intended well. I'll vndertak't: I think he'll hear me. Yet to bite his lip, And hum at good Cominius, much unhearts me. He was not taken well, he had not dined, The Veins vnfilled, our blood is cold, and then We pout upon the Morning, are unapt To give or to forgive; but when we have stuffed These Pipes, and these Conveyances of our blood With Wine and Feeding, we have suppler Souls Then in our Priestlike Fasts: therefore I'll watch him Till he be dieted to my request, And then I'll set upon him. You know the very road into his kindness, And cannot lose your way. Good faith I'll prove him, Speed how it will. I shall ere long, have knowledge Of my success. he'll never hear him. Not. I tell you, he does sit in Gold, his eye Red as 'twould burn Rome: and his Injury The Gaoler to his pity. I kneeled before him, 'Twas very faintly he said Rise: dismissed me Thus with his speechless hand. What he would do He sent in writing after me: what he would not, Bound with an Oath to yield to his conditions: So that all hope is vain, unless his Noble Mother, And his Wife, who (as I hear) mean to solicit him For mercy to his Country: therefore let's hence, And with our fair entreaties hast them on.
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)
Why ſo: you haue made good worke: A paire of Tribunes, that haue wrack'd for Rome, To make Coales cheape: A Noble memory. I minded him, how Royall 'twas to pardon When it was leſſe expected. He replyed It was a bare petition of a State To one whom they had puniſh'd. Very well, could he ſay leſſe. I offered to awaken his regard For's priuate Friends. His anſwer to me was He could not ſtay to picke them, in a pile Of noyſome muſty Chaffe. He ſaid, 'twas folly For one poore graine or two, to leaue vnburnt And ſtill to noſe th' offence. For one poore graine or two? I am one of thoſe: his Mother, Wife, his Childe, And this braue Fellow too: we are the Graines, You are the muſty Chaffe, and you are ſmelt Aboue the Moone. We muſt be burnt for you. Nay, pray be patient: If you refuſe your ayde In this ſo neuer-needed helpe, yet do not Vpbraid's with our diſtreſſe. But ſure if you Would be your Countries Pleader, your good tongue More then the inſtant Armie we can make Might ſtop our Countryman. No: Ile not meddle. Pray you go to him. What ſhould I do? Onely make triall what your Loue can do, For Rome, towards Martius. Well, and ſay that Martius returne mee, As Cominius is return'd, vnheard: what then? But as a diſcontented Friend, greefe-ſhot With his vnkindneſſe. Say't be ſo? Yet your good will Muſt haue that thankes from Rome, after the meaſure As you intended well. Ile vndertak't: I thinke hee'l heare me. Yet to bite his lip, And humme at good Cominius, much vnhearts mee. He was not taken well, he had not din'd, The Veines vnfill'd, our blood is cold, and then We powt vpon the Morning, are vnapt To giue or to forgiue; but when we haue ſtufft Theſe Pipes, and theſe Conueyances of our blood With Wine and Feeding, we haue ſuppler Soules Then in our Prieſt-like Faſts: therefore Ile watch him Till he be dieted to my requeſt, And then Ile ſet vpon him. You know the very rode into his kindneſſe, And cannot loſe your way. Good faith Ile proue him, Speed how it will. I ſhall ere long, haue knowledge Of my ſucceſſe. Hee'l neuer heare him. Not. I tell you, he doe's ſit in Gold, his eye Red as 'twould burne Rome: and his Iniury The Gaoler to his pitty. I kneel'd before him, 'Twas very faintly he ſaid Riſe: diſmiſt me Thus with his ſpeechleſſe hand. What he would do He ſent in writing after me: what he would not, Bound with an Oath to yeeld to his conditions: So that all hope is vaine, vnleſſe his Noble Mother, And his Wife, who (as I heare) meane to ſolicite him For mercy to his Countrey: therefore let's hence, And with our faire intreaties haſt them on.