Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1607 [c.1606-1608] (Annals) tragedy · King's Men unassigned nearest T2 Roman politics: senate, consuls and civi · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
Alexas did revolt, and went to Iewrij on Affairs of Anthony, there did dissuade Great Herod to incline himself to Caesar, And leave his Master Anthony. For this pains, Caesar hath hanged him: Camindius and the rest That fell away, have entertainment, but No honourable trust: I have done ill, Of which I do accuse myself so sorely, That I will joy no more. Enobarbus, Anthony Hath after thee sent all thy Treasure, with His Bounty overplus. The Messenger Came on my guard, and at thy Tent is now Unloading of his Mules. I give it you. Mock not Enobarbus, I tell you true: Best you saved the bringer Out of the host, I must attend mine Office, Or would have doneed myself. Your Emperor Continues still a Ioue. I am alone the Villain of the earth, And feel I am so most. Oh Anthony, Thou Mine of Bounty, how wouldst thou have paid My better service, when my turpitude Thou dost so Crown with Gold. This blows my hart, If swift thought break it not: a swifter mean Shall out-strike thought, but thought will do't. I feel I fight against thee: No I will go seek Some Ditch, wherein to dye: the foulest best fits My latter part of life. Retire, we have engaged ourselves too far: Caesar himself has work, and our oppression Exceeds what we expected. O my brave Emperor, this is fought indeed, Had we done so at first, we had droven them home With clouts about their heads. Thou bleedest apace. I had a wound here that was like a T, But now 'tis made an H. They do retire. we'll beat 'em into Bench-holes, I have yet Room for six scotches more. They are beaten Sir, and our advantage serves For a fair victory. Let us score their backs, And snatch 'em up, as we take Hares behind, 'Tis sport to maul a Runner. I will reward thee Once for thy sprightly comfort, and tenfold For thy good valour. Come thee on. I'll halt after. We have beat him to his Camp: Run one Before, & let the Queen know of our guests: to morrow Before the Sun shall see's, we'll spill the blood That has to day escaped. I thank you all, For doughty handed are you, and have fought Not as you served the Cause, but as't had been Each man's like mine: you have shown all Hectors. Enter the City, clip your Wives, your Friends, Tell them your feats, whilst they with joyful tears Wash the congealement from your wounds, and kiss The Honour'd-gashes whole. Give me thy hand, To this great Fairy, I'll commend thy acts, Make her thankes bless thee. Oh thou day o' th' world, Chain mine armed neck, leap thou, Attire and all Through proof of Harness to my heart, and there Ride on the pants triumphing. Lord of Lords. Oh infinite Virtue, com'st thou smiling from The world's great snare uncaught.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T2 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Alexas did reuolt, and went to Iewrij on Affaires of Anthony, there did diſſwade Great Herod to incline himſelfe to Caeſar, And leaue his Maſter Anthony. For this paines, Caeſar hath hang'd him: Camindius and the reſt That fell away, haue entertainment, but No honourable truſt: I haue done ill, Of which I do accuſe my ſelfe ſo forely, That I will ioy no more. Enobarbus, Anthony Hath after thee ſent all thy Treaſure, with His Bounty ouer-plus. The Meſſenger Came on my guard, and at thy Tent is now Vnloading of his Mules. I giue it you. Mocke not Enobarbus, I tell you true: Beſt you ſaf't the bringer Out of the hoaſt, I muſt attend mine Office, Or would haue done't my ſelfe. Your Emperor Continues ſtill a Ioue. I am alone the Villaine of the earth, And feele I am ſo moſt. Oh Anthony, Thou Mine of Bounty, how would'ſt thou haue payed My better ſeruice, when my turpitude Thou doſt ſo Crowne with Gold. This blowes my hart, If ſwift thought breake it not: a ſwifter meane Shall out-ſtrike thought, but thought will doo't. I feele I fight againſt thee: No I will go ſeeke Some Dith, wherein to dye: the foul'ſt beſt fits My latter part of life. Retire, we haue engag'd our ſelues too farre: Caeſar himſelfe ha's worke, and our oppreſſion Exceeds what we expected. O my braue Emperor, this is fought indeed, Had we done ſo at firſt, we had drouen them home With clowts about their heads. Thou bleed'ſt apace. I had a wound heere that was like a T, But now 'tis made an H. They do retyre. Wee'l beat 'em into Bench-holes, I haue yet Roome for ſix ſcotches more. They are beaten Sir, and our aduantage ſerues For a faire victory. Let vs ſcore their backes, And ſnatch 'em vp, as we take Hares behinde, 'Tis ſport to maul a Runner. I will reward thee Once for thy ſprightly comfort, and ten-fold For thy good valour. Come thee on. Ile halt after. We haue beate him to his Campe: Runne one Before, & let the Queen know of our gueſts: to morrow Before the Sun ſhall ſee's, wee'l ſpill the blood That ha's to day eſcap'd. I thanke you all, For doughty handed are you, and haue fought Not as you ſeru'd the Cauſe, but as't had beene Each mans like mine: you haue ſhewne all Hectors. Enter the Citty, clip your Wiues, your Friends, Tell them your feats, whil'ſt they with ioyfull teares Waſh the congealement from your wounds, and kiſſe The Honour'd-gaſhes whole. Giue me thy hand, To this great Faiery, Ile commend thy acts, Make her thankes bleſſe thee. Oh thou day o' th' world, Chaine mine arm'd necke, leape thou, Attyre and all Through proofe of Harneſſe to my heart, and there Ride on the pants triumphing. Lord of Lords. Oh infinite Vertue, comm'ſt thou ſmiling from▪ The worlds great ſnare vncaught.