Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1599 [1598-1599] (Annals) tragedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T2 Roman politics: senate, consuls and civi · 478 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
O Antony! Beg not your death of us: Though now we must appear bloody and cruel, As by our hands, and this our present Act You see we do: Yet see you but our hands, And this, the bleeding business they have done: Our hearts you see not, they are pitiful: And pity to the general wrong of Rome, As fire drives out fire, so pity; pity Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part, To you, our Swords have leaden points Mark Antony: Our Arms in strength of malice, and our Hearts Of Brother's temper, do receive you in, With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence. Your voice shall be as strong as any man's, In the disposing of new Dignities. Only be patiented, till we have appeased The Multitude, beside themselves with fear, And then, we will deliver you the cause, Why I, that did love Caesar when I strooke him, Have thus proceeded. I doubt not of your Wisdom: Let each man render me his bloody hand. First Marcus Brutus will I shake with you; Next Caius Cassius do I take your hand; Now Decius Brutus yours; now yours Metellus; Yours Cinna; and my valiant Caska, yours; Though last, not least in love, yours good Trebonius Gentlemen all: Alas, what shall I say, My credit now stands on such slippery ground, That one of two bad ways you must conceit me, Either a Coward, or a Flatterer. That I did love thee Caesar, O 'tis true: If then thy Spirit look upon us now, Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death, To see thy Antony making his peace, Shaking the bloody fingers of thy Foes? Most Noble, in the presence of thy Coarse, Had I as many eyes, as thou hast wounds, Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood, It would become me better, then to close In terms of Friendship with thine enemies. Pardon me Iulius, here was't thou bayed brave Hart, here didst thou fall, and here thy Hunters stand Signed in thy Spoil, and Crimsoned in thy Lethee. O World! thou wast the Forest to this Hart, And this indeed, O World, the Hart of thee. How like a Deer, strooken by many Princes, Dost thou here lie? Mark Antony. Pardon me Caius Cassius: The Enemies of Caesar, shall say this: Then, in a Friend, it is cold Modesty. I blame you not for praising Caesar so, But what compact mean you to have with us? Will you be pricked in number of our Friends, Or shall we on, and not depend on you? Therefore I took your hands, but was indeed Swayed from the point, by looking down on Caesar. Friends am I with you all, and love you all, Upon this hope, that you shall give me Reasons, Why, and wherein, Caesar was dangerous.
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)
O Antony! Begge not your death of vs: Though now we muſt appeare bloody and cruell, As by our hands, and this our preſent Acte You ſee we do: Yet ſee you but our hands, And this, the bleeding buſineſſe they haue doe: Our hearts you ſee not, they are pittifull: And pitty to the generall wrong of Rome, As fire driues out fire, ſo pitty; pitty Hath done this deed on Caeſar. For your part, To you, our Swords haue leaden points Marke Antony: Our Armes in ſtrength of malice, and our Hearts Of Brothers temper, do receiue you in, With all kinde loue, good thoughts, and reuerence. Your voyce ſhall be as ſtrong as any mans, In the diſpoſing of new Dignities. Onely be patient, till we haue appeas'd The Multitude, beſide themſelues with feare, And then, we will deliuer you the cauſe, Why I, that did loue Caeſar when I ſtrooke him, Haue thus proceeded. I doubt not of your Wiſedome: Let each man render me his bloody hand. Frſt Marcus Brutus will I ſhake with you; Next Caius Caſſius do I take your hand; Now Decius Brutus yours; now yours Metellus; Yours Cinna; and my valiant Caska, yours; Though laſt, not leaſt in loue, yours good Trebonius Gentlemen all: Alas, what ſhall I ſay, My credit now ſtands on ſuch ſlippery ground, That one of two bad wayes you muſt conceit me, Either a Coward, or a Flatterer. That I did loue thee Caeſar, O 'tis true: If then thy Spirit looke vpon vs now, Shall it not greeue thee deerer then thy death, To ſee thy Antony making his peace, Shaking the bloody fingers of thy Foes? Moſt Noble, in the preſence of thy Coarſe, Had I as many eyes, as thou haſt wounds, Weeping as faſt as they ſtreame forth thy blood, It would become me better, then to cloſe In tearmes of Friendſhip with thine enemies. Pardon me Iulius, heere was't thou bay'd braue Hart, Heere did'ſt thou fall, and heere thy Hunters ſtand Sign'd in thy Spoyle, and Crimſon'd in thy Lethee. O World! thou waſt the Forreſt to this Hart, And this indeed, O World, the Hart of thee. How like a Deere, ſtroken by many Princes, Doſt thou heere lye? Mark Antony. Pardon me Caius Caſſius: The Enemies of Caeſar, ſhall ſay this: Then, in a Friend, it is cold Modeſtie. I blame you not for praiſing Caeſar ſo, But what compact meane you to haue with vs? Will you be prick'd in number of our Friends, Or ſhall we on, and not depend on you? Therefore I tooke your hands, but was indeed Sway'd from the point, by looking downe on Caeſar. Friends am I with you all, and loue you all, Vpon this hope, that you ſhall giue me Reaſons, Why, and wherein, Caeſar was dangerous.