Richards, Nathaniel · published 1640 · first performed or written 1635 [1634-1636] (Annals) tragedy · King's Revels Company unassigned nearest T60 Imperial Rome: rulers, favour and politi · 523 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T60: caesar, rome, emperor, empire, honour, lord, lucius, great, palsgrave, kings.
My Empress, She is no more my Empress, her black life Lost in lust, hath changed that name into an Aethiops blackness, yet for those infant's sake For Lepida, and for the love we bear Your holy order we will hear her speak, Narcissus, against tomorrow let her Have warning to appear in Senate. ay but such warning as she shall ne'er come there. I'll give no trust to those her whorish eyes. She will bewitch thee Caesar, mollify Thy flint heart; if they e'er piece again Off goes my head; I'll not abide the Test. The reconcilement of a drab of state, tripped, i'th' height of pride when topt-with pleasure, O 'twere fine fool state policy to trust Raise that declining tempest to her height, But I'll be no such precedent, it smacks Too much of the great dish of fool for me, And if I do, may thunder sink me. Prevented with a storm in Sunshine, Frost in the hair of all our happiness, O fire and Ice, O how between these two Sad smarting strange extremes I madly live Tortured in mind and blood. To this, if ruled by me you ne'er had plunged But that's too late now; O strive to repent. Repent, redivell, Tell not me mother of repentance, Earth's pleasures are to full of high content, To be forgot by such a bitter Pill. Pray give some better solace, what return Makes Rome's grave Matron your friend Vibidia, Can she with all her holiness of life, Procure our pardon; is that possible. Only a day of hearing that's all, which You must arm yourself for 'gainst tomorrow. O what a lightning's this to my sad heart My heavy heart, will Caesar hear me speak, Nay then I am sure of reconcilement. My quick-Eyed sense, and Syrens tongue shall work it Charming like Lethe make him to forget My Criminal life, than my rich Revenge Like to the Plots of thundering Iupiter Shall— ha, what horrid sound is this, What dreadful sight thus quakes me. O 'Tis a guilty conscience. Helpless wretch despair, despair, Fool to live, why drawest thou Air. Friends all are dread, Friends all are dead, thou hast none▪ These that seemed like Chaff are blown. Then die, O— die, Die—O die. 'Tis better die then live disgraced, joys and glories all defaced. Thy pride of eyes, Thy pride of eyes, Which world of hearts have fired Gone is their glory now no more desired. Then die— O— Die— O— Die be free live exempt And scorn the base world's base contempt. Come live with us, live with us, Live with us, with Spirits dwell, Life is a lake of woe continual hell. Swallow me earth, gape gape and swallow Hide me from sight of this sad spectacle, No? why then do state till you burst again 'Tis true, I was your death's chief Actor mischief's chief Engine, ruin of you all Quid faciam? ubi fugiam, his, & illis, Ubinam nescio, O dira Fata. Close eyes and never open, all's vanished now. 'twas but the perturbation of my mind So let it pass— what again.
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)
My Emp'resse, She is no more my Emp'resse, her blacke life Lost in lust, hath chang'd that name into an Aethiops blacknesse, yet for those Infants sake For Lepida, and for the love we beare Your holy order we will heare her speake, Narcissus, against to morrow let her Have warning to appeare in Senate. I but such warning as she shall nere come there. I'le give no trust to those her whorish eyes. She will bewitch thee Caesar, mollifie Th flint heart; if they e're peece agen Off goes my head; I'le not abide the Test. The reconcilement of a drab of state, Tript, ith' height of pride when topt-with pleasure, O'twere fine foole state pollicy to trust Raise that declining tempest to her height, But I'le be no such president, it smacks Too much of the great dish of foole for me, And if I doe, may thunder sinke me. Prevented with a storme in Sunshine, Frost in the heare of all our happinesse, O fire and Ice, O how betweene these two Sad smarting strange extreames I madly live Tortur'd in mind and blood. To this, if rul'd by me you ne're had plung'd But thats too late now; O strive to repent. Repent, redivell, Tell not me mother of repentance, Earths pleasures are to full of high content, To be forgot by such a bitter Pill. Pray give some better solace, what returne Makes Romes grave Matron your friend Vibidi, Can she with all her holinesse of life, Procure our pardon; is that possible. Onely a day of hearing that's all, which You must arme your selfe for 'gainst to morrow. O what a lightnings this to my sad heart My heavie heart, will Caesar heare me speake, Nay then I am sure of reconcilement. My quick-Ey'd sence, and Syrens tongue shall work it Charming like Lethe make him to forget My Crymenall life, then my rich Revenge Like to the Plots of thundring Iupiter Shall —ha, what horrid sound is this, What dreadfull sight thus quakes me. O 'Tis a gailty conscience. Help'esse wretch despaire, despaire, Foole to live, why draw'st thou Ayre. Friends all are dread, Friends all are dead, thou hast none▪ Thse that seem'd like Chaffe are blowne. Then die, O— die, Die—O die. 'Tis better die then live disgrac'd, Ioyes and glories all defac'd. Thy pride of eyes, Thy pride of eyes, Which world of hearts have fier'd Gon is their glory now no more desir'd. Then die—O—die Die—O—die, Die be free live exempt And scorne the base worlds base contempt. Come live with us, live with , Live with us, with Spirits dwell, Life is a lake of woe continuall hell. Swallow me earth, gape gape and swallow Hide me from sight of this sad spectacle, No? why then doe stae till you burst agen 'Tis true, I was your deaths chiefe Actor Mischiefes chiefe Engine, ruine of you all Quid faciam? ubi fugiam, hi, & illi, Vbinam nescio, O dira Fata. Close eyes and never open, all's vanisht now. T'was but the perturbation of my minde So let it passe—what agen.