Alexander, William · published 1637 · first performed or written 1603 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T17 Eastern conquest: Persians, Turks and so · 519 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
When he beheld deaths triumph in that face, Which had triumphed o'er such a Monarch's heart, With witnessed woe, even passionate a space, The lookers on did much commend his part; And when some time his dolour had overcome, Her funeral rites solemnly to decore, He used such honour, as might well become The Persian pomp in prosperous times before. O power supreme that of great states disposest, And ratifi'st thy will with fearful thunder, Who as thou pleasest, placest, and deposest Uncertain worldlings, now above, now under: I pray thy Deity in my soul's distress, If that th'inhabitants of heaven can hear The plaints of them who this low point possess, Or that th' immortals can give mortals care, This favour last I only do require, Establish first the Sceptre in my hand; But if through my desert, or thy desire, The race of Cyrus must no more command, Since angry heaven so high a hate contracts, That I must needs my Diadem forgo, Let him succeed, who proves in all his acts, So mild a Victor, and so just a foe. IF joined by fates with men of dastard minds, Who to a noble death, base life preferred, I should not waste my words amongst the winds, But labour would that time might be deferred; Though still resolved, your course confirms me much, Whom no disaster could divorce from me, What man can doubt whom heavens do back by such, When (bragged with bondage) fight to be free? My courage swells to see you marching forth, Whose force and faith, which all the world doth sing, (Oft cleared by proof, though fortune envy worth) Might serve to make, far more to keep a King. He gives our rebels Towns, not moved by love: Each Prince (though using them,) all traitors hates. But that their course to take, this might you move, His turn once served, so forfeiting your states. Ye to my fortune have not had regard, As of my peace, so partners of my wars, Which, though that I might not, Iove would reward, And all the world extol you to the stars. How long shall I a vagabond remain, And fly a stranger who my right would reave, Since by one battle we may reobtain All that we lost, or lose all that we have? Like some vile traitors, whom I will arraign, To hold me up, shall I go cast me down? Must Darius only by entreaty reign? No, none hath power to give, or take my Crown. I shall not my authority survive, Nor will I proffer a submissive breath, My hand shall hold a Sceptre while I live, My hand shall bear a Diadem till death; If those frank thoughts which do possess my soul, Such flames of courage kindled have in you, A Macedonian shall not us control, Nor with disdainful smiles brag whilst we bow: My state may testify frail fortunes change, May she not him o'erwhelm, as well as me? At least our hands bear death, if not revenge, Brave minds when no more rests may still dye free.
seed 43: T18 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
When he beheld deaths triumph in that face, Which had triumph'd o're ſuch a Monarchs heart, With witneſs'd woe, even paſſionate a ſpace, The lookers on did much commend his part; And when ſome time his dolour had o're-come, Her funerall rites ſolemnly to decore, He us'd ſuch honour, as might well become The Perſian pompe in proſp'rous times before. O pow'r ſupreame that of great ſtates diſpoſeſt, And ratifi'ſt thy will with fearefull thunder, Who as thou pleaſeſt, placeſt, and depoſeſt Vncertaine worldlings, now above, now under: I pray thy Deitie in my ſoules diſtreſſe, If that th'inhabitants of heaven can heare The plaints of them who this low point poſſeſſe, Or that th' immortals can give mortals care, This favour laſt I onely doe require, Eſtabliſh firſt the Scepter in my hand; But if through my deſert, or thy deſire, The race of Cyrus muſt no more command, Since angry heaven ſo high a hate contracts, That I muſt needs my Diadem forgoe, Let him ſucceed, who proves in all his acts, So milde a Victor, and ſo juſt a foe. IF joyn'd by fates with men of daſtard mindes, Who to a noble death, baſe life preferr'd, I ſhould not waſte my words amongſt the windes, But labour would that time might be deferr'd; Though ſtill reſolv'd, your courſe confirmes me much, Whom no diſaſter could divorce from me, What man can doubt whom heavens doe backe by ſuch, When (bragg'd with bondage) fighting to be free? My courage ſwels to ſee you marching forth, Whoſe force and faith, which all the world doth ſing, (Oft clear'd by proofe, though fortune envy worth) Might ſerve to make, farre more to keepe a King. He gives our rebels Townes, not mov'd by love: "Each Prince (though uſing them,) all traitours hates. But that their courſe to take, this might you move, His turne once ſerv'd, ſo forfeiting your ſtates. Ye to my fortune have not had regard, As of my peace, ſo partners of my warres, Which, though that I might not, Iove would reward, And all the world extoll you to the ſtarres. How long ſhall I a vagabond remaine, And flye a ſtranger who my right would reave, Since by one battell we may re-obtaine All that we loſt, or loſe all that we have? Like ſome vile traitors, whom I will arraigne, To hold me up, ſhall I goe caſt me downe? Muſt Darius onely by entreaty raigne? No, none hath pow'r to give, or take my Crowne. I ſhall not my authority ſurvive, Nor will I proffer a ſubmiſſive breath, My hand ſhall hold a Scepter while I live, My hand ſhall beare a Diadem till death; If thoſe franke thoughts which doe poſſeſſe my ſoule, Such flames of courage kindled have in you, A Macedonian ſhall not us controule, Nor with diſdainefull ſmiles brag whil'ſt we bow: My ſtate may teſtifie fraile fortunes change, May ſhe not him o're-whelme, as well as mee? At leaſt our hands beare death, if not revenge, "Brave mindes when no more reſts may ſtill dye free.