Caesar and Pompey (The Wars of Caesar and Pompey) · chunk 18 of 34
Chapman, George · published 1631 · first performed or written 1605 [1602-1605; Act 2, sc. 1 written 1610-1611(?)] (Annals) tragedy · Unacted (?) · Blackfriars T2 Roman politics: senate, consuls and civi typicality 0.78 · 470 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
'tis your best and safest. This offered peace of his is sure a snare To make our war the bloodier, whose fit fear Makes me I dare not now (in thoughts maturer Then late inclined me) put in use the Counsel Your noble father Cato (parting) gave me, Whose much too tender shunning innocent blood, This battle hazards now, that must cost more. It does, and therefore now no more defer it. Say all men so? We do. I grieve ye do, Because I rather wish to err with Cato Then with the truth go of the world beside; But since it shall abide this other stroke. Ye gods that our great Roman Genius Have made, not give us one day's conquest only, Nor grow in conquests for some little time, As did the Genius of the Macedons; Nor be by land great only, like Laconians; Nor yet by sea alone, as was th'Athenians; Nor slowly stirred up, like the Persian Angel; Nor rocked asleep soon, like the Ionian spirit. But made our Roman Genius, fiery, watchful, And even from Rome's prime, joined his youth with hers, Grow as she grew, and firm as earth abide, By her increasing pomp, at sea, and shore, In peace, in battle; against Greece as well As our Barbarian foes; command yet further Ye firm and just gods, our assistful Angel For Rome, and Pompey, who now fights for Rome; That all these royal Laws, to us, and justice Of common safety, may the self-love drown Of tyrannous Caesar; and my care for all Your Altars crowned with endless festival. Say (sacred Soothsayer) and inform the truth, What liking hast thou of our sacrifice? Imperial Caesar, at your sacred charge, I drew a milk white Ox into the Temple, And turning there his face into the east, (Fearfully shaking at the shining light) Down fell his horned forehead to his hoof, When I began to greet him with the stroke, That should prepare him for the holy rites, With hideous roars he laid out such a throat As made the secret lurkings of the god To answer echo-like, in threatning sounds: I stroke again at him, and then he slept, His life-blood boiling out at every wound In streams as clear as any liquid Ruby, And there began to alter my presage, The other ill signs showing th'other fortune, Of your last skirmish, which far opposite now Proves, ill beginnings good events foreshow. For now the beast cut up, and laid on th'Altar, His limbs were all licked up with instant flames, Not like the Elemental fire that burns In household uses, lamely struggling up, This way and that way winding as it rises, But (right and upright) reached his proper sphere Where burns the fire eternal and sincere. And what may that presage?
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)
Tis your beſt and ſafeſt. This offer'd peace of his is ſure a ſnare To make our warre the bloodier, whoſe fit feare Makes me I dare not now (in thoughts maturer Then late enclin'de me) put in vſe the Counſaile Your noble father Cato (parting) gaue me, Whoſe much too tender ſhunning innocent blood, This battaile hazards now, that muſt coſt more. It does, and therefore now no more deferre it. Say all men ſo? We doe. I grieue ye doe, Becauſe I rather wiſh to erre with Cato Then with the truth goe of the world beſides; But ſince it ſhall abide this other ſtroke. Ye gods that our great Romane Genius Haue made, not giue vs one dayes conqueſt only, Nor grow in conqueſts for ſome little time, As did the Genius of the Macedons; Nor be by land great only, like Laconians; Nor yet by ſea alone, as was th'Athenians; Nor ſlowly ſtir'd vp, like the Perſian Angell; Nor rockt aſleepe ſoone, like the Ionian ſpirit. But made our Romane Genius, fiery, watchfull, And euen from Romes prime, ioynd his youth with hers, Grow as ſhe grew, and firme as earth abide, By her encreaſing pomp, at ſea, and ſhore, In peace, in battaile; againſt Greece as well As our Barbarian foes; command yet further Ye firme and iuſt gods, our aſſiſtfull Angell For Rome, and Pompey, who now fights for Rome; That all theſe royall Lawes, to vs, and iuſtice Of common ſafety, may the ſelfe-loue drowne Of tyrannous Caeſar; and my care for all Your Altars crown'd with endleſſe feſtiuall. Say (ſacred Southſayer) and informe the truth, What liking haſt thou of our ſacrifice? Imperiall Caeſar, at your ſacred charge, I drew a milke white Oxe into the Temple, And turning there his face into the eaſt, (Fearefully ſhaking at the ſhining light) Downe fell his horned forehead to his hoofe, When I began to greet him with the ſtroke, That ſhould prepare him for the holy rites, With hydeous roares he laid out ſuch a throat As made the ſecret lurkings of the god To anſwer ecco-like, in threatning ſounds: I ſtroke againe at him, and then he ſlept, His life-blood boyling out at euery wound In ſtreames as cleare as any liquid Ruby, And there began to alter my preſage, The other ill ſignes ſhewing th'other fortune, Of your laſt skirmiſh, which farre oppoſite now Proues, ill beginnings good euents foreſhew. For now the beaſt cut vp, and laid on th'Altar, His lims were all lickt vp with inſtant flames, Not like the Elementall fire that burnes In houſhold vſes, lamely ſtruggling vp, This way and that way winding as it riſes, But (right and vpright) reacht his proper ſphere Where burnes the fire eternall and ſincere. And what may that preſage?