Caesar and Pompey (The Wars of Caesar and Pompey) · chunk 15 of 34
Chapman, George · published 1631 · first performed or written 1605 [1602-1605; Act 2, sc. 1 written 1610-1611(?)] (Annals) tragedy · Unacted (?) · Blackfriars T7 The Trojan war: conflict and its afterma typicality 0.80 · 532 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
Your royal aids deserve of Rome and Pompey Our utmost honours. O may now our fortune Not balance her broad breast 'twixt two light wings, Nor on a slippery globe sustain her steps, But as the Spartans say, the Paphian Queen (The flood Eurotas passing) laid aside Her Glass, her Ceston, and her amorous graces, And in Lycurgus' favour; armed her beauties With Shield and javelin, so may fortune now, The flood of all our enemies forces passing With her fair Ensigns, and arrived as ours, Displume her shoulders, cast off her winged shoes, Her faithless, and still-rolling stone spurn from her, And enter our powers as she may remain Our firm assistant: that the general aids, Favours, and honours you perform to Rome, May make her build with you her endless home. The gods vouchsafe it; and our causes right What sudden Shade is this? observe my Lords, The night, methinks, comes on before her hour. Nor trust me if my thoughts conceive not so. What thin clouds fly the winds, like swiftest shafts Along airs middle region. They presage Unusual tempests. And 'tis their repair, That timeless darken thus the gloomy air. Let's force no omen from it, but avoid The vapours furies now by Ioue employed. The wrathful tempest of the angry night, Where hell flies muffled up in clouds of pitch, Mingled with Sulphur, and those dreadful bolts, The Cyclops Ram in Ioues Artillery, Hath roused the furies, armed in all their horrors, Up to the envious seas, in spite of Caesar. O night, O jealous night, of all the noblest Beauties, and glories, where the gods have stroke Their four digestions, from thy ghastly Chaos, Blush thus to drown them all in this hour signed By the necessity of fate for Caesar. I that have ransacked all the world for worth, To form in man the image of the gods, Must like them have the power to check the worst Of all things under their celestial Empire, Stoop it, and burst it, or break through it all, With use and safety, till the Crown be set On all my actions; that the hand of nature In all her worst works aiming at an end, May in a masterpiece of hers be served With tops, and state fit for his virtuous Crown: Not lift arts thus far up in glorious frame, To let them vanish thus in smoke and shame. This river Anius (in whose mouth now lies A pinnace I would pass in, to fetch on My armies dull rest from Brundusium) That is at all times else exceeding calm, (By reason of a purling wind that flies Off from the shore each morning, driving up The billows far to sea) in this night yet, Bears such a terrible gale; put off from sea, As beats the land wind back, and thrusts the flood Up in such uproar, that no boat dare stir And on it is dispersed all Pompey's navy To make my peril yet more envious. Shall I yet shrink for all? were all, yet more? There is a certain need that I must give Way to my pass; none, known, that I must live.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Your royall aides deſerue of Rome and Pompey Our vtmoſt honors. O may now our fortune Not ballance her broad breaſt twixt two light wings, Nor on a ſlippery globe ſuſtaine her ſteps, But as the Spartans ſay, the Paphian Queene (The flood Eurtas paſſing) laid a ſide Her Glaſſe, her Ceſton, and her amorous graces, And in Lycurgus fauor; arm'd her beauties With Shield and Iaueline, ſo may fortune now, The flood of all our enemies forces paſſing With her faire Enſignes, and arriu'd a ours, Diſplume her ſhoulders, caſt off her wing'd ſhooes, Her faithleſſe, and ſtill-rowling ſtone ſpurne from her, And enter our powers as ſhe may remaine Our firme aſſiſtent▪ that the generall aydes, Fauours, and honors you performe to Rome, May make her build with you her endleſſe home. The gods vouchſafe it; and our cauſes right What ſuddaine Shade is this? obſerue my Lords, The night, me thinks, comes on before her houre. Nor truſt me if my thoughts conceiue not ſo. What thin clouds fly the winds, like ſwifteſt ſhafts Along aires middle region. They preſage Vnuſuall tempeſts. And tis their repaire, That timeleſſe darken thus the gloomy ayre. Let's force no omen from it, but avoid The vapors furies now by Ioue employd. The wrathfull tempeſt of the angry night, Where hell flyes mufl'd vp in clouds of pitch, Mingl'd with Sulphure, and thoſe dreadfull bolts, The Cyclops Ram in Ioues Artillery, Hath rouſde the furies, arm'd in all their horrors, Vp to the enuious ſeas, in ſpight of Caeſar. O night, O ielous night, of all the nobleſt Beauties, and glories, where the gods haue ſtroke Their foure digeſtions, from thy gaſtly Chaos, Bluſh thus to drowne them all in this houre ſign'd By the neceſſity of ſate for Caeſar. I that haue ranſackt all the world for worth, To forme in man the image of the gods, Muſt like them haue the power to check the worſt Of all things vnder their celeſtiall Empire, Stoope it, and burſt it, or breake through it all, With vſe and ſafety, till the Crowne be ſet On all my actions; that the hand of nature In all her worſt works ayming at an end, May in a maſter-peece of hers be ſeru'd With tops, and ſtate fit for his virtuous Crowne: Not lift arts thus farre vp in glorious frame, To let them vaniſh thus in ſmoke and ſhame. This riuer Anius (in whoſe mouth now lyes A Pynnace I would paſſe in, to fetch on My armies dull reſt from Brunduſium) That is at all times elſe exceeding calme, (By reaſon of a purling winde that flyes Off from the ſhore each morning, driuing vp The billows farre to ſea) in this night yet, Beares ſuch a terrible gale; put off from ſea, As beats the land wind back, and thruſts the flood Vp in ſuch vproare, that no boat dare ſtirre And on it is diſperſt all Pompeys nauy To make my perill yet more enuious. Shall I yet ſhrinke for all? were all, yet more? There is a certaine need that I muſt giue Way to my paſſe; none, knowne, that I muſt liue.