Alexander, William · published 1637 · first performed or written 1603 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 468 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
Ah! how can I command whilst I am thrall? What can I have, who wanting one, want all? Though brave it seem in some proud victor's sight, To plague their captives, and triumph in ill: The larger grow the limits of my might, The more I labour to rest rain my will. What can be feared by them whom I defend? Foes have not power, and who with me remain. They dare not wrong, nor offer to offend The least in rank who doth attend your train; If any would impugn what I appoint, Or would in ambush for your honour lie, Or discontent you but in any point, As Alexander lives, that wretch shall dye. O what an host of evils where ere I go Are still encroaching to o'erthrow my state? Ah! must I be beholding to my foe, And own him love, to whom my love owes hate? Should he help me who still his ruin plies? Heavens curse my heart, if stained with treason thus, Let death in darkness first entomb mine eyes, Ere such a sight accepted be by us. I (Lord) am thine, and thine I will remain, Thy love was planted in a fertile field, Which grateful now thee to reward again From flourished faith chaste flames for fruits doth yield. Yet doth misfortune this good fortune bring, My constancy shall now be clearly known; Another might have loved an happy King: But I will love thee, though thou be o'erthrown. I labour much to comfort in some measure This grieved Queen, that was a Monarch's choice, Whose woe doth make my victory no pleasure, For whilst she mourns, I cannot well rejoice. Most mighty King thou dost deserve indeed, That (as for Darius) we should pray for thee, Who dost so much in clemency exceed, That thou bewail'st our loss, no less than he; Not only thou surmount'st all other Kings, In glory rising from thy labours gone; And for those benefits which Fortune brings, But in all virtues worthy of a Throne; Thou dost vouchsafe on me (more than I crave) The title of a Queen, and Mother still, But I confess myself thy humble slave, Whose life hath now no limits but thy will; The dreamt good, that Greatness gave, forgot, My countenance shall be free from clouds of cares, And I'll allow of this my present lot, As one who for my fate my force prepares; Yea, if this woeful woman here were free, Who hath no heaven except her husband's face; I could content myself (great Prince) to be The meanest handmaid that attends your Grace. As if your Sons, command all that is mine, And I will seek to second your desire. Heaven's recompense this courtesy of thine, Which in all ages thousands shall admire.
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)
Ah! how can I command whil'ſt I am thrall? What can I have, who wanting one, want all? Though brave it ſeeme in ſome proud victors ſight, To plague their captives, and triumph in ill: The larger grow the limits of my might, The more I labour to reſt raine my will. What can be fear'd by them whom I defend? Foes have not pow'r, and who with me remaine. They dare not wrong, nor offer to offend The leaſt in ranke who doth attend your traine; If any would impugne what I appoint, Or would in ambuſh for your honour lye, Or diſcontent you but in any point, As Alexander lives, that wretch ſhall dye. O what an hoſt of evils where ere I go Are ſtill encroaching to o're-throw my ſtate? Ah! muſt I be beholding to my foe, And owe him love, to whom my love owes hate? Should he help me who ſtill his ruine plyes? Heavens curſe my heart, if ſtain'd with treaſon thus, Let death in darkneſſe firſt entombe mine eyes, Ere ſuch a ſight accepted be by us. I (Lord) am thine, and thine I will remaine, Thy love was planted in a fertile field, Which gratefull now thee to reward againe From flouriſh'd faith chaſt flames for fruits doth yeeld. Yet doth misfortune this good fortune bring, My conſtancy ſhall now be clearly knowne; Another might have lov'd an happie King: But I will love thee, though thou be o're-throwne. I labour much to comfort in ſome meaſure This grieved Queene, that was a Monarch's choice, Whoſe woe doth make my victory no pleaſure, For whil'ſt ſhe mournes, I cannot well rejoyce. Moſt mighty King thou doſt deſerve indeed, That (as for Darius) we ſhould pray for thee, Who do'ſt ſo much in clemency exceed, That thou bewail'ſt our loſſe, no leſſe then he; Not onely thou ſurmount'ſt all other Kings, In glory riſing from thy labours gone; And for thoſe benefits which Fortune brings, But in all vertues worthy of a Throne; Thou do'ſt vouchſafe on me (more then I crave) The title of a Queene, and Mother ſtill, But I confeſſe my ſelfe thy humble ſlave, Whoſe life hath now no limits but thy will; The dreamed good, that Greatneſſe gave, forgot, My count'nance ſhall be free from clouds of cares, And I'le allow of this my preſent lot, As one who for my fate my force prepares; Yea, if this wofull woman here were free, Who hath no heaven except her husbands face; I could content my ſelfe (great Prince) to be The meaneſt hand-mayd that attends your Grace. As if your Sonnes, command all that is mine, And I will ſeek to ſecond your deſire. Heavens recompenſe this courteſie of thine, Which in all ages thouſands ſhall admire.