Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
Our action needed not be graced by him, he's our old enemy, and still maligns us; 'twill have an end, nay it shall have an end. Why, I have been too pitiful too remiss, My easiness is laughed at, and contemned, But I will change it; Not, as heretofore, By singling out them, one by one to death, Each common man can such revenges have; A PRINCE's anger must lay desolate Cities, Kingdoms consume, Root up mankind. O could I live to see the general end, Behold the world enwrapped in funeral flame, When, as the Sun shall lend his beams to burn What he before brought forth, and water serve, Not to extinguish but to guise the fire: Then, like the Salamander, bathing me In the last Ashes of all mortal things Let me give up this breath: Priam was happy, Happy indeed, he saw his Troy burned, And Ilion lie on heaps; Whilst thy pure streams, (Divine Scamander) did run Phrygian blood And heard the pleasant cries of Trojan Mothers. Could I see Rome, so? Your Majesty may easily, Without this trouble to your sacred mind. What may I easily do? kill thee, or him, How may I rid you all? where is the Man That will all other's end, and last himself? O that I had thy Thunder in my hand, Thou idle Rover, I'll not shoot at trees, And spend in woods my unregarded vengeance, I'll shevire them down upon their guilty roofs, And fill the streets with bloody burials. But 'tis not Heaven can give me what I seek; To you, you hated kingdoms of the night, You severe powers, that not like those above, Will with fair words, or children's cries be won, That have a style beyond that Heaven is proud off, Deriving not from Art a maker's Name, But in destruction power, and terror show: To you I fly for succour: you, whose dwellings For torments are belied, must give me ease; Furies, lend me your fires, no they are here, They must be other fires; material brands That must the burning of my heat allay; I bring to you no rude unpractised hands, Already do they reek with mother's blood: Tush that's but innocents, to what now I mean, Alas what evil could those years commit, The world in this shall see my settled wit. Petroneus, you were at the Theater. Senica I was, and saw your kingly pupil In Minstrels habit, stand before the judges, Bowing those hands, which the world's Sceptre hold, And with great awe and reverence beseeching Indifferent hearing, and an equal doom: Then Caesar doubted first to be o'erborne, And so he joined himself to th'other singers, And straightly all other Laws o'th' Stage observed, As not (though weary) to sit down, not spit; Not wipe his sweat off, but with what he wore; Mean time how would he eye his adversaries, How he would seek t'have all they did disgrac't, Traduce them privily, openly rail at them: And them he could not conquer so, he would Corrupt with money, to do worse than he. This was his singing part, his acting now.
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)
Our action needed not be grac'd by him, Hee's our old enemie, and ſtill Malignes vs; T'will haue an end, nay it ſhall haue an end. Why, I haue bin too pittifull too remiſſe, My eaſineſſe ilaught at, and contemn'd, But I will change it; Not, as heretofore, By ſingling out them, one by one to death, Each common man can ſuch reuenges haue; A Princes anger muſt lay deſolate Citties, Kingdomes conſume, Roote vp mankind. O could I liue to ſee the generall end, Behold the world enrapt in funerall flame, When, as the Sunne ſhall lend his beames to burne What he before brought forth, and water ſerue, Not to extinguiſh but to uiſe the fire: Then, like the Salamander, bathing me In the laſt Aſhes of all mortall things Let me giue vp this breath: Priam was happie, Happie indeed, he ſaw his Troy burnt, And Illion lye on heapes; Whil'ſt thy pure ſtreames, (Diuine Scamander) did run Phrygian blood And heard the pleaſant cries of Troian Mothers. Could I ſee Rome, ſo? Your Maieſtie may eaſily, Without this trouble to your ſacred mind. What may I eaſily doe? kill thee, or him, How may I rid you all? where is the Man That will all others end, and laſt himſelfe? O that I had thy Thunder in my hand, Thou idle Rouer, Ile not ſhoote at trees, And ſpend in woods my vnregarded vengeance, Ile ſheuire them downe vpon thtir guilty roofes, And fill the ſtreetes with bloody burials. But 'tis not Heauen can giue me what I ſeeke; To you, you hated kingdomes of the night, You ſevere powers, that not like thoſe aboue, Will with faire words, or childrens cryes be wonne, That haue a ſtile beyond that Heauen is proud off, Deriuing not from Art a makers Name, But in deſtruction power, and terror ſhew: To you I flye for ſuccour: you, whoſe dwellings For torments are bely'de, muſt giue me eaſe; Furies, lend me your fires, no they are here, They muſt be other fires; materiall brands That muſt the burning of my heat allay; I bring to you no rude vnpractiz'd hands, Already doe they reeke with mothers blood: Tuſh that's but innocents, to what now I meane, Alaſſe what euell could thoſe yeeres commit, The world in this ſhall ſee my ſetled wit. Petroneus, you were at the Theater. Senica I was, and ſaw your kingly Pupyll In Mynſtrils habit, ſtand before the Iudges, Bowing thoſe hands, which the worlds Scepter hold, And with great awe and reuerence beſeeching Indifferent hearing, and an equall doome: Then Caeſar doubted firſt to be oreborne, And ſo he ioyn'd himſelfe to th'other ſingers, And ſtraightly all other Lawes oth' Stage obſeru'd, As not (though weary) to ſit downe, not ſpit; Not wipe his ſweat off, but with what he wore; Meane time how would he eye his aduerſaries, How he would ſeeke t'haue all they did diſgrac't, Traduce them priuily, openly raile at them: And them he could not conquer ſo, he would Corrupt with money, to doe worſe then he. This was his ſinging part, his acting now.