Herbert, Mary Sidney / Garnier, RobertSidney Herbert, Mary · published 1595 · first performed or written 1590 (Annals) tragedy T54 Antony and Cleopatra: love, death and mo typicality 0.90 · 506 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T54: antony, caesar, anthony, cleopatra, antonius, love, death, die, heart, breast.
Yet must we not for that feed on despair, And make us wretched ere we wretched be: But always hope the best, even to the last, That from ourselves the mischief may not grow. Then, madam, help yourself, leave of in time Antony's wrack, left it your wrack procure: Retire you from him, save from wrathful rage Of angry Caesar both your Realm and you. You see him lost, so as your amity Unto his evils can yield no more relief. You see him ruined, so as your support No more henceforth can him with comfort raise. Withdraw you from the storm: persist not still To lose yourself: this royal diadem Regain of Caesar. Sooner shining light Sall leave the day, and darkness leave the night: Sooner moist currents of tempestuous seas Shall wave in heaven, and the nightly troops Of stars shall shine within the foaming waves, Than I thee, Antony, Leave in deep distress. I am with thee, be it thy worthy soul Lodge in thy breast, or from that lodging part Crossing the joyless lake to take her place In place prepared for men demi-gods. Live, if thee please, if life be loathsome die: Dead and alive, Antony, thou shalt see Thy princess follow thee, follow, and lament, Thy wrack, no less her own then was thy weal. What helps his wrack this everlasting love?. Help, or help not, such must, such ought I prove. Ill done to lose yourself, and to no end. How ill think you to follow such a friend? But this your love nought mitigates his praine. Without this love I should be inhuman. Inhuman he, who his own death pursues. Not inhuman who miseries eschews. Live for your sons. Nay for their father die. hard-hearted mother! Wife kindhearted I. Then will you them deprive of royal right? Do I deprive them? no, it's destiny's might. Do you not them deprive of heritage, That give them up to adversaries hands, A man forsaken fearing to forsake, Whom such huge numbers hold environed? T'abandon one 'gainst whom the frowning world Banded with Caesar makes conspiring war. The less ought I to leave him lest of all. A friend in most distress should most assist. If that when Antonie great and glorious His legions led to drink Euphrates streams, So many Kings in train redoubting him; In triumph raised as high as highest heaven; Lordlike disposing as him pleased best, The wealth of Greece, the wealth of Asia: In that fair fortune had I him exchanged For Caesar, then, men would have counted me Faithless, unconstant, light: but now the storm, And blustering tempest driving on his face, Ready to drown, Alas! what would they say? What would himself in Plato's mansion say? If, I whom always more than life he loved, If I, Who am his heart, who was his hope, Leave him, forsake him (and perhaps in vain) Weakly to please who him hath overthrown? Not light, unconstant, faith less should I be, But vile, forsworn, of treacherous cruelty.
seed 43: T51 · seed 44: T48 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Yet must we not for that feede on dispaire, And make vs wretched ere we wretched be: But alwaies hope the best, euen to the last, That from our selues the mischiefe may not grow. Then, Madame, helpe your selfe, leaue of in time Antonies wracke, left it your wracke procure: Retire you from him, saue from wrathfull rage Of angry Caesar both your Realme and you. You see him lost, so as your amitie Vnto his euills can yeeld no more reliefe. You see him ruin'd, so as your support No more henceforth can him with comfort raise. With-draw you from the storme: persist not still To loose your selfe: this royall diademe Regaine of Caesar. Sooner shining light Sall leaue the day, and darknes leaue the night: Sooner moist currents of tempestuous seas Shall waue in heauen, and the nightly troopes Of starres shall shine within the foming waues, Then I thee, Antony, Leaue in deepe distres. I am with thee, be it thy worthy soule Lodge in thy brest, or from that lodging parte Crossing the ioyles lake to take her place In place prepared for men Demy-gods. Liue, if thee please, if life be lothsome die: Dead and aliue, Antony, thou shalt see Thy princesse follow thee, folow, and lament, Thy wrack, no lesse her owne then was thy weale. What helps his wrack this euer-lasting loue?. Help, or help not, such must, such ought I proue. Ill done to loose your selfe, and to no end. How ill thinke you to follow such a frend? But this your loue nought mitigates his praine. Without this loue I should be inhumaine. Inhumaine he, who his owne death pursues. Not inhumaine who miseries eschues. Liue for your sonnes. Nay for their father die. Hardharted mother! Wife kindhearted I. Then will you them depriue of royall right? Do I depriue them? no, it's dest'nies might. Do you not them depriue of heritage, That giue them vp to aduersaries hands, A man forsaken fearing to forsake, Whome such huge numbers hold inuironned? T'abandon one gainst whome the frowning world Banded with Caesar makes conspiring warre. The lesse ought I to leaue him lest of all. A frend in most distresse should most assift. If that when Antonie great and glorious His legions led to drinke Euphrates streames, So many Kings in traine redoubting him; In triumph rais'd as high as highest heau'n; Lord-like disposing as him pleased best, The wealth of Greece, the wealth of Asia: In that faire fortune had I him exchaung'd For Caesar, then, men would haue counted me Faithles, vnconstant, light: but now the storme, And blustring tempest driuing on his face, Readie to drowne, Alas! what would they say? What would himselfe in Platos mansion say? If, I whome alwaies more then life he lou'de, If I, Who am his heart, who was his hope, Leaue him, forsake him (and perhaps in vaine) Weakly to please who him hath ouerthrowne? Not light, vnconstant, faith lesse should I be, But vile, forsworne, of treachrous cruelty.