Daniel, Samuel · published 1599 · first performed or written 1593 [revised 1607] (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T25 Kings, power and law: political sententi · 537 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T25: feare, kings, power, princes, lawes, loue, state, downe, honor, men.
Of like proud states, as woefully encumbered, And framed by them, examples for our own: Which now among examples must be numbered. For this decree a law from high is given, An ancient Cannon, of eternal date, In Consistory of the stars of heaven, Entered the book of unavoided Fate; That no state can in height of happiness, In th' exaltation of their glory stand: But thither once arrived, declining less, Ruin themselves, or fall by others hand. Thus doth the ever-changing course of things Run a perpetual circle, ever turning: And that same day that highest glory brings, Brings us unto the point of back-returning. For senseless sensuality, doth ever Accompany felicity and greatness. A fatal witch, whose charms do leave us never, Till we leave all in sorrow for our sweetness; When yet ourselves must be the cause we fall, Although the same befirst decreed on high: Our errors still must bear the blame of all, This must it be, earth ask notheaven why. Yet mighty men with wary jealous hand, Strive to cut off all obstacles of fear: All whatsoever seems but to withstand Their least conceit of quiet, held so dear; And so entrench themselves with blood, with crimes, With all injustice as their fears dispose: Yet for all this we see, how oftentimes The means they work to keep, are means to lose. And sure I cannot see, how this can stand With great Augustus' safety and his honour, To cut off all succession from our land, For her offence that pulled the wars upon her. Why must her issue pay the price of that? The price is life that they are rated at. Casario to, issued of Caesar's blood? Plurality of Caesar's are not good. Alas what hurt procures his feeble arm? Not for it doth, but that it may do harm. Then when it offers hurt, repress the same. 'tis best to quench a spark before it flame. 'tis inhuman, an innocent to kill. Such innocents, seldom remain so still. And sure his death may best procure our peace, Competitors the subject dearly buys: And so that our affliction may surcease, Let great men be the people's sacrifice. But see where Caesar comes himself, to try And work the mind of our distressed Queen, To apprehend some falsed hope: whereby She might be drawn to have her fortune seen. But yet I think, Rome will not see that face (That quelled her champions,) blush in base disgrace. WHat Cleopatra, dost thou doubt so much Of Caesar's mercy, that thou hidest thy face? Or dost thou think, thy ' offences can be such, That they surmount the measure of our grace? O Caesar, not for that I fly thy sight My soul this sad retire of sorrow chose: But that my'oppressed thoughts abhorring light Like best in darkness, my disgrace t'enclose. And here to these close limits of despair, This solitary horror where I bide: Caesar, I thought no Roman should repair, More after him, who here oppressed dyde. Yet now, here at thy conquering feet I lie, Poor captive soul, that never thought to bow: Whose happy foot of rule and Majesty Stood late only same ground thou standest now.
seed 43: T1 · seed 44: T2 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Of like proude states, as wofully incombred, And fram'd by them, examples for our own: VVhich now among examples must be numbred. For this decree a law from high is giuen, An auncient Cannon, of eternall date, In Consistorie of the starres of heauen, Entred the booke of vnauoided Fate; That no state can in height of happinesse, In th' exaltation of their glory stand: But thither once ariu'd, declining lesse, Ruine themselues, or fall by others hand. Thus doth the euer-changing course of things Runne a perpetuall circle, euer turning: And that same day that hiest glory brings, Brings vs vnto the point of back-returning. For sencelesse sensualitie, doth euer Accompany selicitie and greatnesse. A fatal witch, whose charmes do leaue vs neuer, Till we leaue all in sorrow for our sweetnesse; When yet our selues must be the cause we fall, Although the same befirst decreed on hie: Our errors still must beare the blame of all, This must it be, earth aske notheauen why. Yet mighty men with wary iealous hand, Striue to cut off all obstacles of feare: All whatsoeuer seemes but to withstand Their least conceit of quiet, held so deere; And so intrench themselues with blood, with crimes, With all iniustice as their feares dispose: Yet for all this we see, how oftentimes The meanes they worke to keepe, are meanes to lose. And sure I cannot see, howe this can stand With great Augustus safety and his honor, To cut off all succession from our land, For her offence that puld the wars vpon her. Why must her issue pay the price of that? The price is life that they are rated at. Casario to, issued of Caesars blood? Pluralitie of Caesars are not good. Alas what hurt procures his feeble arme? Not for it doth, but that it may do harme. Then when it offers hurt, represse the same. Tis best to quench a sparke before it flame. Tis inhumane, an innocent to kill. Such innocents, sildome remaine so still. And sure his death may best procure our peace, Competitors the subiect deerely buies: And so that our affliction may surcease, Let great men be the peoples sacrifice. But see where Caesar comes himselfe, to try And worke the mind of our distressed Queene, To apprehend some falsed hope: whereby She might be drawn to haue her fortune seene. But yet I thinke, Rome will not see that face (That queld her champiōs,) blush in base disgrace. WHat Cleopatra, doost thou doubt so much Of Caesars mercy, that thou hid'st thy face? Or dost thou thinke, thy' offences can be such, That they surmount the measure of our grace? O Caesar, not for that I flie thy sight My soule this sad retyre of sorrow chose: But that my'oppressed thoghts abhorring light Like best in darknes, my disgrace t'inclose. And here to these close limits of despaire, This solitarie horror where I bide: Caesar, I thought no Roman should repaire, More after him, who here oppressed dyde. Yet now, here at thy conquering feete I lie, Poore captiue soul, that neuer thought to bow: Whose happie foote of rule and Maiestie Stood late on̄y same ground thou standest now.