Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T54: antony, caesar, anthony, cleopatra, antonius, love, death, die, heart, breast.
WHat, hath my face yet power to win a Lover? Can this torn remnant serve to grace me so, That it can Caesar's secret plots discover What he intends with me and mine to do? Why then poor Beauty thou hast done thy last, And best good service thou couldst do unto me. For now the time of death revealed thou hast, Which in my life didst serve but to undo me. Here Dolabella far forsooth in love, Writes, how that Caesar means forthwith, to send Both me and mine, th' air of Rome to prove: There his Triumphant Chariot to attend. I thank the man, both for his love and letter; Th'one comes fit to warn me thus before, But for th'other, I must die his debtor, For Cleopatra now can love no more. But having leave, I must go take my leave And last farewell of my dead Anthony: Whose dearly honoured Tom be must here receive This sacrifice, the last before I die. O sacred ever-memorable Stone, That hast without my tears, within my flame, Receive th'oblation of the woefull'st moan That ever yet from sad affliction came. And you dear relics of my Lord and Love, (The sweetest parcels of the faithfullest liver,) O let no impious hand dare to remove You out from hence, but rest you here for ever. Let Egypt now give peace unto you dead, That living, gave you trouble and turmoil: Sleep quiet in this everlasting bed, In foreign land preferred before your soil. And o, if that the spirits of men remain After their bodies, and do never die, Then hear thy Ghost thy captive Spouse complain, And be attentive to her misery. But if that laboursome mortality, Found this sweet error, only to confine The curious search of idle vanity, That would the depth of darkness undermine: Or rather, to give rest unto the thought Of wretched man, with th'after-coming joy Of those conceived fields whereon we dote, To pacify the present world's annoy. If it be so, why speak I then to th'air? But 'tis not so, my Anthony doth hear: His everliving ghost attends my prayer, And I do know his hovering sprite is near. And I will speak, and pray, and mourn to thee, O pure immortal love that deign'st to hear: I feel thou answer'st my credulity With touch of comfort, finding none elsewhere. Thou know'st these hands entombed thee here of late, Free and unforced, which now must servile be, Reserved for bands to grace proud Caesar's state, Who seeks in me to triumph over thee. O if in life we could not severed be, Shall Death divide our bodies now asunder? Must thine in Egypt, mine in Italie, Be kept the Monuments of Fortune's wonder? If any powers be there where as thou art, (Sith our own Country Gods betray our case,) O work they may their gracious help impart, To save thy woeful wife from such disgrace. Do not permit she should in triumph show The blush of her reproach, joined with thy shame:
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)
WHat, hath my face yet powre to win a Louer? Can this torne remnant serue to grace me so, That it can Caesars secrete plots discouer What he intends with mee and mine to do? VVhy then poore Beautie thou hast doone thy last, And best good seruice thou could'st doe vnto mee. For now the time of death reueal'd thou hast, Which in my life didst serue but to vndoe mee. Heere Dolabella far forsooth in loue, Writes, how that Caesar meanes forthwith, to send Both mee and mine, th' ayre of Rome to proue: There his Tryumphant Chariot to attend. I thanke the man, both for his loue and letter; Th'one comes fit to warne mee thus before, But for th'other, I must die his debter, For Cleopatra now can loue no more. But hauing leaue, I must goe take my leaue And last farewell of my dead Anthony: Whose deerely honour'd Tom be must heere receaue This sacrifice, the last before I dye. O sacred euer-memorable Stone, That hast without my teares, within my flame, Receiue th'oblation of the wofull'st mone That euer yet from sad affliction came. And you deere reliques of my Lord and Loue, (The sweetest parcells of the faithfull'st liuer,) O let no impious hand dare to remoue You out from hence, but rest you heere for euer. Let Egypt now giue peace vnto you dead, That lyuing, gaue you trouble and turmoyle: Sleepe quiet in this euer-lasting bed, In forraine land preferr'd before your soyle. And ô, if that the sp'rits of men remaine After their bodies, and doe neuer die, Then heare thy Ghost thy captiue Spouse complaine, And be attentiue to her misery. But if that laborsome mortalitie, Found this sweet error, onely to confine The curious search of idle vanity, That would the deapth of darknes vndermine: Or rather, to giue rest vnto the thought Of wretched man, with th'after-comming ioy Of those conceiued fieldes whereon we dote, To pacifie the present worlds anoy. If it be so, why speake I then to th'ayre? But tis not so, my Anthony doth heare: His euer-liuing ghost attends my prayer, And I doe know his houering sp'rite is neere. And I will speake, and pray, and mourne to thee, O pure immortall loue that daign'st to heare: I feele thou aunswer'st my credulitie VVith touch of comfort, finding none elswhere. Thou know'st these hands entomb'd thee heer of late, Free and vnforst, which now must seruile be, Reseru'd for bands to grace proude Caesars state, Who seekes in mee to tryumph ouer thee. O if in life we could not seuerd be, Shall Death deuide our bodies now a sunder? Must thine in Egypt, mine in Italie, Be kept the Monuments of Fortunes wonder? If any powres be there where as thou art, (Sith our owne Country Gods betray our case,) O worke they may theyr gracious helpe impart, To saue thy wofull wife from such disgrace. Doe not permit shee should in tryumph shew The blush of her reproch, ioyn'd with thy shame: