Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
Whether Augustus' Triumph greater was I cannot tell; his Triumphs cause I know Was greater far, and far more Honourable. What are we People? or our flattering voices, That always shame and foolish things applaud Having no spark of Soul; All Ears, and eyes, Pleased with vain shows, deluded by our senses Still enemies to wisdom, and to goodness. Now fair Poppea, see thy Nero shine In bright Achaias spoils, and Rome in him. The Capital hath other Trophies seen Then it was wont; Not spoils with blood bedewed, Or the unhappy obsequies of Death: But such, as Caesar's cunning, not his force, Hath wrung from Greece; too bragging of her art. And in this strife, the glories all your own, Your Tribunes cannot share this praise with you; Here, your Centurions hath no part at all, Bootless your Armies, and your Eagles were; No Navies helped, to bring away this conquest. Even Fortune's self, Fortune the Queen of kingdoms (That Wars grim valour graceth with her deeds,) Will claim no portion in this Victory. Not Bacchus, drawn from Nisa down with Tigers, Curbing with viny reins, their wilful heads, Whilst some do gape upon his ivy Thirse, Some, on the dangling grapes, that Crown his head, All praise his beauty, and continuing youth: So struck, amazed India, with wonder. As Nero's glories did the Greekish towns Elis, and Pisa, and the rich Micaena, junoman Argos, and yet Corinth proud Of her two Seas; all which o'ercome, did yield To me their praise, and prizes of their games. Yet, in your Greekish journey, we do hear, Sparta, and Athens, the two eyes of Greece, Neither beheld your person, nor your skill; Whether, because they did afford no games, Or for their to much gravity, Why? what Should I have seen in them? but in the one, Hunger, black-pottage, and men hot to die, Thereby to rid themselves of misery: And what in th'other? but short Capes, long Beards, Much wrangling in things needless to be known, Wisdom in words, and only austere faces, I will not be Aiecelaus, nor Solon. Nero was there, where he might honour win, And honour hath he won, and brought from Greece, Those spoils which never Roman could obtain, Spoils won by wit and Trophies of his skill. What a thing he makes it to be a minstrel. I praise your wit, my Lord, that choose such safe. honours, safe spoils, won without dust, on blood. What, mock ye me Poppea? Nay, in good Faith my Lord, I speak in earnest, I hate that heady, and adventurous crew, That go to lose their own, to purchase, but The breath of others, and the common voice, Them that will lose there hearing for a sound; That by death only, seek to get a living, Make scars there beauty, and count loss of limbs The commendation of a proper man, And so, go halting to immortality: Such fools I love worse than they do their lives. But now Poppea, having laid apart Our boastful spoils, and ornaments of Triumph. Come we, like Joan from Phlegra—
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)
Whether Auguſtus Tryumph greater was I cannot tell; his Tryumphs cauſe I know Was greater farre, and farre more Honourable. What are wee People? or our flattering voyces, That alwayes ſhame and fooliſh things applaud Hauing no ſparke of Soule; All Eares, and eyes, Pleas'd with vaine ſhowes, deluded by our ſenſes Still enemies to wiſedome, and to goodneſſe. Now fayre Poppea, ſee thy Nero ſhine In bright Achaias ſpoyles, and Rome in him. The Capitall hath other Trophies ſeene Then it was wont; Not ſpoyles with blood bedew'd, Or the vnhappie obſequies of Death: But ſuch, as Caeſars cunning, not his force, Hath wrung from Greece; too bragging of her art. And in this ſtrife, the glories all your owne, Your Tribunes cannot ſhare this prayſe with you; Here, your Centurions hath no part at all, Bootleſſe your Armies, and your Eagles were; No Nauies helpt, to bring away this conqueſt. Euen Fortunes ſelfe, Fortune the Queene of kingdomes (That Warrs grim valour graceth with her deeds,) Will claime no portion in this Victorie. Not Bacchus, drawne from Niſa downe with Tigers, Curbing with viny raines, their wilfull heads, Whil'ſt ſome doe gape vpon his Iuy Thirſe, Some, on the dangling grapes, that Crowne his head, All praiſe his beautie, and continuing youth: So ſtrooke, amaſed India, with wonder. As Neroes glories did the Greekiſh townes Elis, and Piſa, and the rich Micna, Iunoman Argos, and yet Corinth proud Of her two Seas; all which ore-come, did yeeld To me their praiſe, and priſes of their games. Yet, in your Greekiſh iourney, we do heare, Sparta, and Athens, the two eyes of Greece, Neither beheld your perſon, nor your ſkill; Whether, becauſe they did afford no games, Or for their to much grauitie, Why? what Should I haue ſeene in them? but in the one, Hunger, blacke-pottage, and men hot to di, Thereby to rid themſelues of miſerie: And what in th'other? but ſhort Capes, long Beardes, Much wrangling in things needleſſe to be knowne, Wiſedome in words, and onely auſtere faces, I will not be Aecelans, nor Solon. Nero was there, where he might honour winn, And honour hath he wonn, and brought from Greece, Thoſe ſpoyles which neuer Roman could obtaine, Spoyles won by witt and Trophtis of his skill. What a thing he makes it to be a Minſtrill. I prayſe your witt, my Lord, that chooſe ſuch ſafe. Honors, ſafe ſpoyles, wonn without duſt, on blood. What, mooke ye me Poppea? Nay, in good Faith my Lord, I ſpeake in earneſt, I hate that headie, and aduenturous crew, That goe to looſe their owne, to purchaſe, but The breath of others, and the common voyce, Them that will looſe there hearing for a ſound; That by death onely, ſeeke to get a liuing, Make ſkarrs there beautie, and count loſſe of Limme The commendation of a proper man, And ſo, goe halting to immortalitie: Such fooles I loue worſe then they doe their liues. But now Poppea, hauing laid apart Our boaſtfull ſpoyles, and ornaments of Tryumph. Come we, like Ione from Phlegra —