Daniel, Samuel · published 1599 · first performed or written 1593 [revised 1607] (Annals) tragedy T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.69 · 481 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Well, now this work is done (saith she,) here ends This act of life, that part the Fates assigned: What glory or disgrace here this world lends, Both have I had, and both I leave behind. And now o Earth, the Theatre where I Have acted this, witness I die unforst. Wirnes my soul parts free to Anthony, And now proud Tyrant Caesar do thy worst. This said, she stays, and makes a sudden pause, As 'ttwere to feel wheher the poison wrought: Or rather else the working might be cause That made her stay, and entertained her thought. For in that instant I might well perceive The drowsy humour in her falling brow: And how each power, each part oppressed did leave Their former office, and did senseless grow. Look how a new plucked branch against the Sun, Declines his fading leaves in feeble sort; So her disjoined jointures as undone, Let fall her weak dissolved limbs support. Yet lo that face the wonder of her life, Retains in death, a grace that graceth death, Colour so lively, cheer so lovely rife, That none would think such beauty could want breath. And in that cheer th'impression of a smile Did seem to show she scorned Death and Caesar, As glorying that she could them both beguile, And telling death how much her death did please her. Wonder it was to see how soon she went, She went with such a will, and did so haste it, That sure I think she did her pain prevent, Foregoing pain, or staying not to taste it. And senseless, in her sinking down she wries The Diadem which on her head she wore, Which Charmion (poor weak feeble maid) espies, And hastes to right it as it was before. For Eras now was dead, and Charmion too Even at the point, for both would imitate Their Mistress glory, striving like to do. But Charmion would in this exceed her mate, For she would have this honour to be last, That should adorn that head that must be seen To wear a Crown in death, that life held fast, That all the world might know she dyde a Queen, And as she stood setting it fitly on, Lo in rush Caesar's Messengers in haste, Thinking to have prevented what was done, But yet they came too late, for all was passed. For there they found stretched on a bed of gold, Dead Cleopatra, and that proudly dead, In all the rich attire procure she could, And dying Charmion trimming of her head, And Eras at her feet, dead in like case. Charmion, is this well done? said one of them. Yea, well said she, and her that from the race Of so great Kings descends, doth best become. And with that word, yields to her faithful breath, To pass th'assurance of her love with death.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 1601–1658 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 26 of 27 in this edition
Length
481 words · 615 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.694 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Wel, now this work is done (saith she,) here ends This act of life, that part the Fates assign'd: What glory or disgrace heere this world lends, Both haue I had, and both I leaue behind. And now ô Earth, the Theater where I Haue acted this, witnes I die vnforst. Wirnes my soule parts free to Anthonie, And now proude Tyrant Caesar do thy worst. This said, she staies, and makes a suddaine pause, As twere to feele wheher the poyson wrought: Or rather else the working might be cause That made her stay, and intertain'd her thought. For in that instant I might well perceiue The drowsie humor in her falling brow: And how each powre, each part opprest did leaue Their former office, and did sencelesse grow. Looke how a new pluckt branch against the Sun, Declines his fading leaues in feeble sort; So her disioyned ioyntures as vndonne, Let fall her weake dissolued limmes support. Yet loe that face the wonder of her life, Retaines in death, a grace that graceth death, Colour so liuely, cheere so louelie rife, That none would think such beauty could want breath. And in that cheere th'impression of a smile Did seeme to shew she scorned Death and Caesar, As glorying that she could them both beguile, And telling death how much her death did please her. Woonder it was to see how soone she went, She went with such a will, and did so haste it, That sure I thinke she did her paine preuent, Fore-going paine, or staying not to taste it. And sencelesse, in her sinking downe she wryes The Diademe which on her head she wore, Which Charmion (poore weake feeble mayd) espies, And hastes to right it as it was before. For Eras now was dead, and Charmion too Euen at the poynt, for both would imitate Their Mistresse glorie, striuing like to doo. But Charmion would in this exceed her mate, For she would haue this honour to be last, That should adorne that head that must be seene To weare a Crowne in death, that life held fast, That all the world might know she dyde a Queene, And as she stood setting it fitly on, Lo in rush Caesars Messengers in haste, Thinking to haue preuented what was done, But yet they came too late, for all was past. For there they found stretch'd on a bed of gold, Dead Cleopatra, and that proudly dead, In all the rich attyre procure she could, And dying Charmion trimming of her head, And Eras at her feet, dead in like case. Charmion, is this well done? said one of them. Yea, well said she, and her that from the race Of so great Kings descends, doth best become. And with that word, yeelds to her faithful breath, To passe th'affurance of her loue with death.