Alexander, William · published 1637 · first performed or written 1604 (Annals) tragedy T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.72 · 491 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.
I will not here rehearse, enlarging woes, On what just reasons now my grief I ground, But still will entertain my comforts foes, Whilst many a thousand thoughts my soul do wound; What pensive pencil ever limned aright The sad conceits of soul-consuming grief? Ah! words are weak to show the swelling height Of th'inward anguish desperate of relief, Though many monarches jealously despise The rising Sun that their declining stains, And hate the Heir who by their fall must rise, As grieved to hear of death, or others reigns; My love to Atis otherwise appeared, Whom, whilst for him I did my cares engage, I as a Father loved, as king not feared, The comfort not th'encumbrance of mine age; And had he me (as reason would) survived, Who glanced, and vanished like to lightning flashes, Then death could me not have of life deprived, Whilst such a Phoenix had revived my ashes. Let not those woes eclipse your virtue's light. Ah! Rage and grief must once be at a height. Strive of your sorrows (Sir) to stop the source. These salt eye-floods must flow, and have their course. That is not kingly. And yet it's kindly, where passions domineer, they govern blindly. Such woeful plaints cannot repair your state. Unhappy souls at least may wail their fa●e The meanest comfort that you can return, Is in calamity a leave to mourn. what Stoic strange, who most precise appears, Can that youth's death with tearless eyes behold, In all perfections ripe, though green in years, A hoary judgement under locks of gold? No, no man lives, but must lament to see The world's chief hope even in the blossom choked, But men cannot control the Heaven's decree, And what is done, can never be revoked. Let not this loss with grief torment you more; Of which a part with you your Country bears: If wailing could your ruined state restore, Souls charged with grief should sail in Seas of tears; Lest all our comfort dash against one shelf, And his untimely death but hasten yours. Have pity of your people, spare yourself, If not to your own use, yet unto ours. When Sandanis I first thy faith did find, Thou dived so deeply in my bosom then, That since▪ thou still (entrusted with my mind) Didst know what I concealed from other men: Behold I go to open up to you, (Chief treasurer of all my secrets still) What high design my Thoughts are hatching now, A physic in some sort to ease my ill; This may unto my soul yield some relief, And for displeasures past may much content, Or else must purchase partners in my grief, If not for me, yet with me to lament. This benefit must bind me with the rest To serve your Majesty, and hold you dear, And I'll be free with you, yet I protest, That what I friendly speak, you freely hear.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 1634–1696 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 26 of 46 in this edition
Length
491 words · 639 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.723 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
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)
I will not here rehearſe, enlarging woes, On what juſt reaſons now my griefe I ground, But ſtill will entertaine my comforts foes, Whilſt many a thouſand thoughts my ſoule doe wound; What penſive penſill ever limm'd aright The ſad conceipts of ſoule-conſuming griefe? Ah! words are weake to ſhew the ſwelling height Of th'inward anguiſh deſperate of reliefe, "Though many monarchs jealouſly deſpiſe "The riſing Sunne that their declining ſtaines, And hate the Heyre who by their fall muſt riſe, As griev'd to heare of death, or others raignes; My love to Atis otherwiſe appear'd, Whome, whilſt for him I did my cares engage, I as a Father lov'd, as king not fear'd, The comfort not th'encombrance of mine age; And had he me (as reaſon would) ſurviv'd, Who glanc'd, and vaniſh'd like to lightning flaſhes, Then death could me not have of life depriv'd, Whilſt ſuch a Phoenix had reviv'd my aſhes. Let not thoſe woes ecclipſe your vertues light. Ah! Rage and griefe muſt once be at a height. Strive of your ſorrowes (Sir) to ſtop the ſource. Theſe ſalt eye-floods muſt flow, and have their courſe. That is not kingly. And yet it's kindly, "here paſſions domineere, they governe blindly. Such woefull plaints cannot repaire your ſtate. "Vnhappie ſoules at leaſt may waile their fae "The meaneſt comfort that you can returne, "Is in calamity a leave to mourne. what Stoicke ſtrange, who moſt preciſe appeares, Could that youths death with teareleſſe eyes behold, In all perfections ripe, though greene in yeares, A hoarie judgement under lockes of gold? No, no man lives, but muſt lament to ſee The worlds chiefe hope even in the bloſſome choak'd, "But men cannot controll the Heavens decree, "And what is done, can never be revok'd. Let not this loſſe with griefe torment you more; Of which a part with you your Country beares: If wailing could your ruin'd ſtate reſtore, Soules charg'd with griefe ſhould ſaile in Seas of teares; Leſt all our comfort daſh againſt one ſhelfe, And his untimely death but haſten yours. Have pitty of your people, ſpare your ſelfe, If not to your own uſe, yet unto ours. When Sandanis I firſt thy faith did finde, Thou div'd ſo deepely in my boſome then, That ſince▪ thou ſtill (entruſted with my minde) Didſt know what I conceal'd from other men: Behold I goe to open up to you, (Chiefe treaſurer of all my ſecrets ſtill) What high deſigne my Thoughts are hatching now, A phyſicke in ſome ſort to eaſe my ill; This may unto my ſoule yeeld ſome reliefe, And for diſpleaſures paſt may much content, Or elſe muſt purchaſe partners in my griefe, If not for me, yet with me to lament. This benefit muſt binde me with the reſt To ſerve your Majeſtie, and hold you deere, And I'le be free with you, yet I proteſt, That what I friendly ſpeake, you freely heare.