Alexander, William · published 1604 · first performed or written 1603 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 504 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
And having wailed his death above all measure, For t'have his funerals made in Princely wise He bids you spare no cost, but use his treasure, And them, as best becomes, to solemnize. He hath his body hither sent by me, That the last honours you to him may do: He thinks they so shall best accomplished be, And who him bore shall see him buried to. Behold how grief hath her of sense bereft, And choked her breath with superabounding groans, No will or power to live is to her left, Since all her weal evanished is at ones. Ah shall I see (no let me first be blind) That body breathless, which I brought to light? Where would my soul a force sufficient find T'endure the dolour of that deadly sight. O flinty hardened heart, that wilt not break With the remembrance of so many woes, Why partest thou not, faint spirit, that whilst I speak, In opening of my lips mine eyes might close? This heritage of death, this withered stock Is but a receptacle of despairs: A torture to itself, a stumbling block, Whose aged furrows fertile are in cares. What helps it now to have been made the mother Of one who to such dignity did climb? More miserable now then any other, I live to wail my death, who died in him. ay me, malicious Fates have done me wrong: Who came first to the world should first depart. It not becomes the old t'o'erlive the young: This dealing is preposterous and o'erthwart. Ah, why should death so indiscreet be found To save a caitiff, and confound a Prince: My half-dead body, weighed down to the ground, Through grief is grown ripe for the grave long since. WHat makes vain worldlings so to swell with pride, Who came of earth, and to the earth return? So hellish furies with their fire brands burn Proud and ambitious men, as they devise Them from themselves, and so turmoil their minds, That all their time they study still How to content a boundless will, Which never yet a full contentment finds. Who so this flame within his bosom smothers Doth many fantasies contrive, And even forgets himself alive, To be remembered after death by others. Thus while he is his pains are never ended; That while he is not, he may be commended. What can this help the happiness of Kings, So to subdue their neighbours, as they do, And make strange nations tributaries to? The greater state the greater trouble brings. Their pomps and triumphs, stands them in no stead: Their Arches, Tombs, pyramids high, And Statues are but vanity: They die, and yet would live in what is dead: And while they live, we see their glorious actions Oft wrested to the worst: and all their life Is but a stage of endless toil and strife, Of tumults, uproars, mutinies, and factions. They rise with fear, and lie with danger down: There is no burden weightier than a Crown.
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)
And hauing waild his death aboue all meaſure, For t'haue his funerals made in Princely wiſe He bids you ſpare no coſte, but vſe his treaſure, And them, as beſt becommes, to ſolemniſe. He hath his body hither ſent by me, That the laſt honours you to him may do: He thinkes they ſo ſhall beſt accompliſh'd be, And who him bare ſhall ſee him buried to. Behold how griefe hath her of ſenſe bereſt, And choak'd her breath with ſuper-abounding grones, No will or power to liue is to her left, Since all her weale evaniſh'd is at ones. Ah ſhall I ſee (no let me firſt be blinde) That body breath-leſſe, which I brought to light? Where would my ſoule a force ſufficient finde T'endure the dolour of that deadly ſight. O flintie hardned hart, that wilt not breake With the remembrance of ſo many woes, Why part'ſt thou not, faint ſprit, that whil'ſt I ſpeake, In opening of my lips mine eyes might cloſe? This heritage of death, this withered ſtock Is but a receptacle of diſpaires: A torture to it ſelfe, a ſtumbling block, Whoſe aged furrowes fertile are in cares. What helpes it now to haue bene made the mother Of one who to ſuch dignitie did clim? More miſerable now then any other, I liue to waile my death, who di'd in him. Aye me, malitious Fates haue done me wrong: Who came firſt to the world ſhould firſt depart. It not becommes the olde t'ou'r-liue the yong: This dealing is praepoſterous and ou'r-thwart. Ah, why ſhould death ſo indiſcreet be found To ſaue a caitiue, and confound a Prince: My halfe-dead body, weigh'd downe to the ground, Through griefe is grow'n ripe for the graue long ſince. WHat makes vaine worldlings ſo to ſwell with pride, Who came of earth, and to the earth returne? So helliſh furies with their fire brands burne Proude and ambitious men, as they deuie Them from themſelues, and ſo turmoile their mindes, That all their time they ſtudie ſtill How to content a bound-leſſe will, Which neuer yet a full contentment findes. Who ſo this flame within his boſome ſmothers Doth many fantaſies contriue, And euen forgets himſelfe a-liue, To be remembred after death by others. Thus while he is his paines are neuer ended; That while he is not, he may be commended. What can this helpe the happineſſe of Kings, So to ſubdue their neighbours, as they doe, And make ſtrange nations tributaries to? The greater ſtate the greater trouble brings. Their pompes and triumphes, ſtands them in no ſtead: Their Arches, Tombes, Piramides hie, And Statues are but vanitie: They die, and yet would liue in what is dead: And while they liue, we ſee their glorious actions Oft wreſted to the worſt: and all their life Is but a ſtage of endleſſe toile and ſtrife, Of tumults, vprores, mutinies, and factions. They riſe with feare, and lie with danger downe: There is no burthen weightier then a Crowne.