Daniel, Samuel · published 1594 · first performed or written 1593 [revised 1607] (Annals) tragedy T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.78 · 521 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
I stepped with speed, and held, and saved her life, And forth her trembling hand the blade did wrest. Ah Cleopatra, why should'st thou (said I,) Both injury thyself and Caesar so? Bar him the honour of his victory, Who ever deals most mildly with his foe? Live and rely on him, whose mercy will To thy submission always ready be. With that (as all amazed) she held her still, Twixt majesty confused and misery. Her proud grieved eyes, held sorrow and disdain, State and distress warring within her soul: Dying ambition dispossessed her reign, So base affliction seemed to control. Like as a burning Lamp, whose liquour spent With intermitted flames, when dead you deem it, Sends forth a dying flash, as discontent, That so the matter fails that should redeem it. So she (in spite) to see her low-brought state, (When all her hopes were now consumed to nought,) Scorns yet to make an abject league with Fate, Or once descend into a servile thought. Th'imperious tongue unused to beseech, Authority confounds with prayers, so Words of command conjoined wish humble speech, showed she would live, yet scorned to pray her foe. Ah, what hath Caesar here to do, said she, In confines of the dead in darkness living? Will he not grant our sepulchres be free, But violate the privilege of dying? What, must he stretch forth his ambitious hand Into the right of Death, and force us here? Hath misery no covert where to stand Free from the storm of pride, be't safe nowhere? Cannot my land, my gold, my Crown suffice, And all what I held dear, to him made common, But that he must in this sort tyrannize, Th'afflicted body of an woeful woman? Tell him, my frailty, and the Gods have given, Sufficient glory, if he could content him: And let him now with his desires make even, And leave me to this horror, to lamenting. Now he hath taken all away from me, What must he take me from myself by force? Ah, let him yet (in mercy) leave me free The kingdom of this poor distressed corpse. No other crown I seek, no other good. Yet wish that Caesar would vouchsafe this grace, To favour the poor offspring of my blood. Confused issue, yet of Roman race. If blood and name be links of love in Princes, Not spurs of hate; my poor Caesario may Find favour notwithstanding mine offences, And Caesar's blood, may Caesar's raging stay. But if that with the torrent of my fall, All must be rapt with furious violence, And no respect, nor no regard at all, Can aught with nature or with blood dispense: Then be it so, if needs it must be so. There stays and shrinks in horror of her state. When I began to mitigate her woe, And thy great mercies unto her relate; Wishing her not despair, but rather come And sue for grace, and shake off all vain fears: No doubt she should obtain as gentle doom As she desired, both for herself and hers. And so with much ado, (well pacified
nodes 284–350 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 5 of 26 in this edition
Length
521 words · 680 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.784 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T10 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I stept with speed, and held, and sau'd her life, And forth her trembling hand the blade did wrest. Ah Cleopatra, why should'is thou (said I,) Both iniurie thy selfe and Caesar so? Barre him the honour of his victory, VVho euer deales most mildly with his foe? Liue and relye on him, whose mercy will To thy submission alwaies ready be. With that (as all amaz'd) shee held her still, Twixt maiestie confus'd and miserie. Her proud grieu'd eyes, held sorrow and disdaine, State and distresse warring within her soule: Dying ambition dispossest her raigne, So base affliction seemed to controule. Like as a burning Lampe, whose liquor spent With intermitted flames, when dead you deeme it, Sendes foorth a dying flash, as discontent, That so the matter failes that should redeeme it. So shee (in spight) to see her low-brought state, (When all her hopes were now consum'd to nought,) Scornes yet to make an abiect league with Fate, Or once discend into a seruile thought. Th'imperious tongue vnused to beseech, Authority confounds with prayers, so Words of commaund conioyn'd wish humble speech, Shew'd shee would liue, yet scorn'd to pray her foe. Ah, what hath Caesar heere to doe, said shee, In confines of the dead in darknes liuing? Will hee not graunt our Sepulchers be free, But violate the priuiledge of dying? What, must hee stretch forth his ambitious hand Into the right of Death, and force vs heere? Hath misery no couert where to stand Free from the storme of pryde, ist safe no where? Cannot my land, my gold, my Crowne suffise, And all what I held deere, to him made common, But that he must in this sort tirannize, Th'afflicted body of an wofull woman? Tell him, my frailty, and the Gods haue giuen, Sufficient glory, if hee could content him: And let him now with his desires make euen, And leaue mee to this horror, to lamenting. Now hee hath taken all away from mee, What must hee take mee from my selfe by force? Ah, let him yet (in mercie) leaue mee free The kingdom of this poore distressed corse. No other crowne I seeke, no other good. Yet wish that Caesar would vouchsafe this grace, To fauour the poore of-spring of my blood. Confused issue, yet of Roman race. If blood and name be linkes of loue in Princes, Not spurres of hate; my poore Caesario may Finde fauour notwithstanding mine offences, And Caesars blood, may Caesars raging stay. But if that with the torrent of my fall, All must bee rapt with furious violence, And no respect, nor no regard at all, Can ought with nature or with blood dispence: Then be it so, if needes it must be so. There stayes and shrinkes in horror of her state. VVhen I began to mitigate her woe, And thy great mercies vnto her relate; Wishing her not dispaire, but rather come And sue for grace, and shake off all vaine feares: No doubt shee should obtaine as gentle doome As shee desir'd, both for herselfe and hers. And so with much a-doe, (well pacifide