May, Thomas · published 1639 · first performed or written 1626 (Annals) tragedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 472 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
I hope howe'er 'twill serve our turns Lucilius. Now is the fittest time. What men are these? Two of Antonius truest servants, Caesar, Who bring a letter from their dying Lord. Let me peruse it well, it shall be granted. Your lives and fortunes both are safe, and since We ever loved fidelity, you shall If so you like, be welcome to our service, 'Tis our desire; our lives and fortunes ever Shall do great Caesar true and faithful service As they before did to Antonius. Where did he die? In Cleopatra's arms By her with ropes let up into the tomb, After his deadly wound. Is she there still? Now I shall know; speak Gallus, what's the news? We came and called at Cleopatra's tomb, Who from above made answer, and denied To yield herself, but upon Caesar's word. When I with best persuasions strove to win her, And held her talk awhile, whilst Proculeius On other side the tomb espied a place That open stood, by which the Queen received Dying Antonius, which he scaling entered Behind the Queen: but had he not been speedy She there had slain herself: a maid of hers Spied Proculeius entering, and aloud Cried out oh Queen thou art surprised alive. She drawing a short poniard was restrained By Proculeius, who both held her hand And spoke her fair; at last obtained so much By strong persuasions of your clemency He drew her thence, and got her to the Palace. Where now she is, and Proculeius stays. But her desire is still to speak with you. Till when from us she will admit no comfort. We will in person presently go see her. Protect me Pallas 'gainst false Venus' charms. Known mischiefs have their cure; but doubts have none, And better is despair then fruitless hope Mixed with a killing fear: my thoughts are now More black and baleful than this sad attire. If Caesar come, I do not fear his chiding I have a certain Antidote 'gainst that. 'Tis not his anger, but his love afflicts My doubting soul, whether that love will prove Feigned or true, yet may straight appear. He's not so old, nor I so ignorant But that his actions, gestures, words, and looks Will make his heart lie open to my view. How sweet a sorrow dwells upon that brow! How would she look in smiling dalliance? Oh pardon me thou powerful God of love, That durst presume to tempt thy Deity. Forgive my confidence. I now excuse Antonius' weakness, but stay there my heart, My virtuous Livia is more fair than she, Hail mighty Prince; for that high name the Gods. Who reft me of it, have bestowed on thee. Rise Cleopatra, Caesar's victory Takes nought from you. Oh let me never rise Till Caesar grant my suit.
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)
I hope how ere 'twill ſerve our turns Lucilius. Now is the fitteſt time. What men are theſe? Two of Antonius trueſt ſervants, Caeſar, Who bring a letter from their dying Lord. Let me peruſe it well, it ſhall be granted. Your lives and fortunes both are ſafe, and ſince We ever lov'd fidelitie, you ſhall If ſo you like, be welcome to our ſervice, 'Tis our deſire; our lives and fortunes ever Shall do great Caeſar true and faithfull ſervice As they before did to Antonius. Where did he die? In Cleopatraes arms By her with ropes let up into the tombe, After his deadly wound. Is ſhe there ſtill? Now I ſhall know; ſpeak Gallus, what's the news? We came and call'd at Cleopatraes tombe, Who from above made anſwer, and deny'd To yield herſelf, but upon Caeſar's word. When I with beſt perſuaſions ſtrove to winne her, And held her talk awhile, whilſt Proculeius On tother ſide the tombe eſpy'd a place That open ſtood, by which the Queen receiv'd Dying Antonius, which he ſcaling enter'd Behinde the Queen: but had he not been ſpeedy She there had ſlain herſelf: a maid of hers Spy'd Proculeius entring, and aloud Cry'd out oh Queen thou art ſurpriz'd alive. She drawing a ſhort poniard was reſtrain'd By Proculeius, who both held her hand And ſpake her fair; at laſt obtain'd ſo much By ſtrong perſuaſions of your clemencie He drew her thence, and got her to the Palace. Where now ſhe is, and Proculeius ſtays. But her deſire is ſtill to ſpeak with you. Till when from us ſhe will admit no comfort. We will in perſon preſently go ſee her. Protect me Pallas 'gainſt falſe Venus charms. Known miſchiefs have their cure; but doubts have none, And better is deſpair then fruitleſſe hope Mixt with a killing fear: my thoughts are now More black and balefull then this ſad attire. If Caeſar come, I do not fear his chiding I have a certain Antidote 'gainſt that. 'Tis not his anger, but his love afflicts My doubting ſoul, whether that love will prove Fained or true, yet may ſtraight apppear. He's not ſo old, nor I ſo ignorant But that his actions, geſtures, words, and looks Will make his heart lie open to my view. How ſweet a ſorrow dwels upon that brow! How would ſhe look in ſmiling dalliance? Oh pardon me thou powerfull God of love, That durſt preſume to tempt thy Deitie. Forgive my confidence. I now excuſe Antonius weakneſſe, but ſtay there my heart, My vertuous Livia is more fair then ſhe, Hail mighty Prince; for that high name the Gods. Who reft me of it, have beſtow'd on thee. Riſe Cleopatra, Caeſar's victory Takes nought from you. Oh let me never riſe Till Caeſar grant my ſuit.