Alexander, William · published 1637 · first performed or written 1604 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 493 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.
As thinking that himself might once be such, Since thralled to Fortune's throne, like other Kings; Then such a pattern standing him before, Whom envy once, than pity did attend, He to our King did liberty restore, And with his life did Solon's fame extend; Yet him the fire still threatened to devour, Which (rising high) could hardly be controlled, But O devotion! then appeared thy power, Which to subdue the heavens makes worldlings bold! To quench the flames, whilst diverse toiled in vain, (Iove moved by prayer) as Croesus did require, The azure Cisterns opened did remain, And clouds fell down in floods to quench the fire. Then whilst the Soldiers did the City sack, To save the same (as to his Country kind) The hopeless Croesus thus to Cyrus spoke, With words which pity melted from his mind: Great Prince, to whom all Nations now succumb, And do thy yoke so willingly embrace, That it some comfort gives to be overcome By one whose glory graces' our disgrace; Since now I am constrained your thrall to be, I must conform myself unto my fate, And cannot hold my peace, whereas I see, That which may wrong the greatness of your state; Your state is spoiled by not suspected powers, If this rich City thus do rest o'erthrown, Which now no more is mine, but is made yours: And therefore (Sir) have pity of your own; Yea, though the loss of such a populous Town, Both rich, and yours, your mind could nothing move, Yet think of this, which may import your Crown, A piece of policy which time will prove: The haughty Persians borne with stubborn minds, Who but for poverty first followed you, Their matchless worth in arms large Asia finds, Their fear is fall'n upon all Nations now; But if you suffer them in such a sort To be made rich with plenteous Lydia's spoils, Not able than their conquest to support, The vanquished by their fall the victor foils; Let not vain pleasures entertain their sights: Rest wealth, wealth pride, pride war, war ruin breeds, Whilst (faint through pleasures, weakened with delights) No thought of honour from base breasts proceeds. Then Cyrus strait approving what he spoke, His soldiers were from precious spoils restrained, Whilst he the tenth part did pretend to take, A fatal offering for the Gods ordained; This is the sum of our disastrous state, We must a Stranger serve, as thralled long since; With loss of all which he possessed of late Our King bought breath, a poor thing for a Prince, O wretched people! O unhappy King! Our joys are spoiled, his happiness expired, And no new chance can any comfort bring, Where destinies to ruin have conspired, Go woeful messenger, hold on thy course, For, to have heard too much, it irks our ears; And we shall note of this thy sad discourse, With sighs each accent, and each point with tears.
seed 43: T25 · seed 44: T6 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
As thinking that himſelfe might once be ſuch, Since thrall'd to Fortunes throne, like other Kings; Then ſuch a patterne ſtanding him before, Whom envy once, then pitie did attend, He to our King did liberty reſtore, And with his life did Solons fame extend; Yet him the fire ſtill threatned to devoure, Which (riſing high) could hardly be controll'd, But O devotion! then appear'd thy pow'r, Which to ſubdue the heavens makes worldlings bold! To quench the flames, whil'ſt divers toild in vaine, (Iove mov'd by prayer) as Croeſus did require, The azure Ciſterns open'd did remaine, And clouds fell downe in flouds to quench the fire. Then whil'ſt the Souldiers did the Citie ſack, To ſave the ſame (as to his Countrey kinde) The hopeleſſe Croeſus thus to Cyrus ſpake, With words which pitie melted from his minde: Great Prince, to whom all Nations now ſuccumbe, And do thy yoke ſo willingly embrace, That it ſome comfort gives to be o're-come By one whoſe glory graces our diſgrace; Since now I am conſtrain'd your thrall to be, I muſt conforme my ſelfe unto my fate, And cannot hold my peace, whereas I ſee, That which may wrong the greatneſſe of your ſtate; Your ſtate is ſpoil'd by not ſuſpected pow'rs, If this rich Citie thus do reſt ore-throwne, Which now no more is mine, but is made yours: And therefore (Sir) have pittie of your owne; Yea, though the loſſe of ſuch a populous Towne, Both rich, and yours, your minde could nothing move, Yet thinke of this, which may import your Crowne, A peece of policy which time will prove: The haughty Perſians borne with ſtubborne mindes, Who but for poverty firſt followed you, Their matchleſſe worth in armes large Aſia findes, Their feare is falne upon all Nations now; But if you ſuffer them in ſuch a ſort To be made rich with plenteous Lydia's ſpoiles, Not able then their conqueſt to ſupport, The vanquiſh't by their fall the victor foils; Let not vain pleaſures entertaine their ſights: "Reſt wealth, wealth pride, pride warre, warre ruine breeds, Whil'ſt (faint through pleaſures, weakened with delights) No thought of honour from baſe breaſts proceeds. Then Cyrus ſtraight approving what he ſpake, His ſouldiers were from pretious ſpoyls reſtrain'd, Whil'ſt he the tenth part did pretend to take, A fatall off'ring for the Gods ordain'd; This is the ſumme of our diſaſtrous ſtate, We muſt a Stranger ſerve, as thrall'd long ſince; With loſſe of all which he poſſeſt of late Our King bought breath, a poore thing for a Prince, O wretched people! O unhappy King! Our joyes are ſpoyl'd, his happineſſe expir'd, And no new chance can any comfort bring, Where deſtinies to ruine have conſpir'd, Go wofull meſſenger, hold on thy courſe, For, to have heard too much, it irks our eares; And we ſhall note of this thy ſad diſcourſe, With ſighs each accent, and each point with teares.