Daniel, Samuel · published 1599 · first performed or written 1593 [revised 1607] (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti · 512 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
Nay there's not all set down within that roll, I know some things she hath reserved apart. What vile ungrateful wretch, darest thou control Thy Queen & sovereign, caitiff as thou art. (hands. Hold, hold; a poor revenge can work so feeble Ah Caesar, what a great indignity Is this, that here my vassal subject stands T'accuse me to my Lord of treachery? If I reserved some certain women's toys, Alas it was not for myself (God knows,) Poor miserable soul, that little joys In trifling ornaments, in outward shows. But what I kept, I kept to make my way Unto thy Livia and Octavia's grace, That thereby in compassion moved, they Might mediate thy favour in my case. Well Cleopatra, fear not, thou shalt find What favour thou desir'st, or canst expect: For Caesar never yet was found but kind To such as yield, and can themselves subject. And therefore give thou comfort to thy mind; Relieve thy soul thus over charged with care, How well I will entreat thee thou shalt find, So soon as some affairs dispatched are. Till when farewell. Cl. Thanks thrice-renowned Caesar, Poor Cleopatra rests thine own for ever. No marvel Caesar though our greatest spirits, Have to the power of such a charming beauty Been brought to yield the honour of their merits? Forgetting all respect of other duty. Then whilst the glory of her youth remained The wondering object to each wanton eye: Before her full of sweet (with sorrow waned,) Came to the period of this misery. If still, even in the midst of death and horror Such beauty shines, thorough clouds of age & sorrow, If even those sweet decay seem to plead for her, Which from affliction moving graces borrow: If in calamity she could thus move, What could she do adorned with youth and love? What could she do then, when as spreading wide The pomp of beauty, in her glory dight? When armed with wonder, she could use beside, Th'engines of her love, Hope and Delight? Beauty daughter of Maruaile, o see how Thou canst disgracing sorrows sweetly grace. What power thou show'st in a distressed brow, That makest affliction fair, giv'st tears their grace. What can untressed locks, can torn rend hair, A weeping eye, a wailing face be fair? I see then, artless feature can content, And that true beauty needs no ornament. What in a passion Dolabella? what take heed: Let others fresh examples be thy warning; What mischiefs these, so idle humours breed, Whilst error keeps us from a true discrening. In deed I saw she laboured to impart Her sweetest graces in her saddest cheer: Presuming on the face that know the are To move with what aspect so e'er it were. But all in vain, she takes her aim amiss, The ground and mark, her level much deceives; Time now hath altered all, for neither is She as she was, nor we as she conceives. And therefore now, 'ttwere best she left such badness, Folly in youth is sin, in age, 'tis madness.
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)
Nay there's not all set downe within that roule, I know some things she hath reseru'd apart. What vile vngrateful wretch, dar'st thou cōtroule Thy Queen & soueraigne, caitife as thou art. (hands. Hold, holde; a poore reuenge can worke so feeble Ah Caesar, what a great indignitie Is this, that here my vassall subiect stands T'accuse me to my Lord of trecherie? If I reseru'd some certaine womens toyes, Alas it was not for my selfe (God knowes,) Poore miserable soule, that little ioyes In trifling ornaments, in outward showes. But what I kept, I kept to make my way Vnto thy Liuia and Octauias grace, That thereby in compassion mooued, they Might mediate thy fauour in my case. Well Cleopatra, feare not, thou shalt finde What fauour thou desir'st, or canst expect: For Caesar neuer yet was found but kinde To such as yeeld, and can themselues subiect. And therefore giue thou comfort to thy minde; Relieue thy soule thus ouer charg'd with care, How well I will intreate thee thou shalt find, So soone as some affaires dispatched are. Til whē farewel. Cl. Thanks thrise-renowned Caesar, Poore Cleopatra rests thine owne for euer. No maruel Caesar though our greatest spirits, Haue to the powre of such a charming beautie Been brought to yeeld the honor of their merits? Forgetting all respect of other dutie. Then whilst the glory of her youth remain'd The wondring obiect to each wanton eye: Before her full of sweet (with sorrow wain'd,) Came to the period of this miserie. If still, euen in the midst of death and horror Such beautie shines, thorow clouds of age & sorow, If euen those sweet decaies seeme to plead for her, Which from affliction mouing graces borrow: If in calamitie she could thus moue, What could she do adorn'd with youth and loue? What could she do then, when as spreading wide The pompe of beautie, in her glorie dight? When arm'd with wonder, she could vse beside, Th'ingines of her loue, Hope and Delight? Beautie daughter of Maruaile, ô see how Thou canst disgracing sorrowes sweetly grace. What power thou shew'st in a distressed brow, That mak'st affliction faire, giu'st tears their grace. What can vntressed locks, can torne rent haire, A weeping eye, a wailing face be faire? I see then, artlesse feature can content, And that true beautie needes no ornament. What in a passion Dolabella? what take heed: Let others fresh examples be thy warning; What mischiefes these, so idle humors breed, Whilst error keepes vs from a true discrening. In deed I saw she labour'd to impart Her sweetest graces in her saddest cheere: Presuming on the face that know the arre To moue with what aspect so eu'r it were. But all in vaine, she takes her ayme amisse, The ground and marke, her leuel much deceiues; Time now hath altred all, for neither is She as she was, nor we as she conceiues. And therfore now, twere best she left such badnes, Folly in youth is sinne, in age, tis madnes.