Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T25: feare, kings, power, princes, lawes, loue, state, downe, honor, men.
A tragic end this triumph quite confounds. All our applauses are turned to complaints, Our music marred by melancholious sounds, Spoiled by the Cypress, lo the Laurel faints. To funeral shrieks our shouts of joy we turn, Our gorgeous garments must give place to grief: We that so much rejoiced, far more must mourn, Days spent with woe are long, with pleasure brief. This greatest anguish breeds when one compares The time that present is, with it that's passed: And ponders the particular despairs. That all heroic minds with woe do waste. These two between what difference find we forth, The rising Sun, and it that is declined? Where is that bright Zodiac of all worth, From whence the light of Valour only shined. Now desolation spreads itself over all, A solitary silence grief allows: Ah as being bruised by that great monarch fall, How many malcontents abase their brows. A strange suspicion hath possessed the streets, Whilst every man his neighbour's fall conspires: When unawares one with another meets, As straight suspecting treason he retires. Of rumours strange all ears are greedy grown, Which (though all doubtful) move the mind to ruth: And as all hearts have idols of their own, What they conjecture all affirm for truth. The heaven with wrathful eyes our actions views As it towards us that high disdain doth bear, Lo all men's heads are heavy for evil news, And though we know not what, yet still we fear. For since the widowed world doth want a head, Each member now doth labour to be chief: Which whilst they divers ways the body lead, May a beginning give t'an endless grief. Some like the fool that thunder feigned like Ioue, Would make their same like Alexander's sound: And to bring others low, or t'be above, Would either govern all, or all confound. Then some vain wits that only would seem wise, Whilst by preposterous fancies being deceived, Do every thing that is not theirs despise, And perish would, or them another saved. A number too that all things do content, What each one thinks, are still resolved to do: They make a choice, then do the choice repent, And straight repent of that repentance too. The public weal is spoiled by private hopes, Whilst many thus the highest honour claim: This variance gives their fancies freest scopes, It's best to fish within a troubled stream. See how dissension hath dissolved so soon, All kind of order and confusion brought: This discord hath our council quite undone, Whilst one would have done all, all have done nought. Though that Perdiccas (as it would have seemed) As being devoted to the sacred blood: Sought (by that means more virtuous to b'esteemed) His PRINCE's honour, and his country's good. Yet having his companions in contempt, He sought by subtle means himself t'advance, And so to shadow his disguised attempt, Aimed at th'imperial place as but by chance.
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)
A tragick end this triumph quite confounds. All our applauſes are turn'd to complaints, Our muſicke marr'd by melancholious ſounds, Spoil'd by the Cypreſſe, loe the Lawrell faints. To funerall ſhrikes our ſhowts of ioy we turne, Our gorgeous garments muſt giue place to griefe: We that ſo much reioyc'd, farre more muſt mourne, Dayes ſpent with woe are long, with pleaſure briefe. This greateſt anguiſh breedes when one compares The time that preſent is, with it that's paſt: And ponders the particular diſpaires. That all heroicke mindes with woe do waſte. Theſe two betweene what diffrence finde we forth, The riſing Sunne, and it that is declinde? Where is that bright Zodiacke of all worth, From whence the light of Valour onely ſhinde. Now deſolation ſpreades it ſelfe ouer all, A ſolitarie ſilence griefe allowes: Ah as being bruiſd by that great Monarkes fall, How many malecontents abaſe their browes. A ſtrange ſuſpition hath poſſeſſd the ſtreetes, Whilſt euery man his neighbours fall conſpires: When vnawares one with another meetes, As ſtrait ſuſpecting treaſon he retires. Of rumours ſtrange all eares are greedie growne, Which (though all doubtfull) moue the mind to ruth: And as all hearts haue idolls of their owne, What they coniecture all affirme for truth. The heauen with wrathful eies our actions views As it towards vs that high diſdaine doth beare, Loe all mens heads are heauy for euill news, And though we know not what, yet ſtil we feare. For ſince the widdow'd world doth want a head, Each member now doth labour to be chiefe: Which whilſt they diuers wayes the bodie leade, May a beginning giue t'an endleſſe griefe. Some like the foole that thunder fain'd like Ioue, Would make their ſame like Alexanders ſound: And to bring others lowe, or t'be aboue, Would either gouerne all, or all confound. Then ſome vaine wittes that onely would ſeeme wiſe, Whilſt by prepoſtrous fancies being deceiu'd, Do euery thing that is not theirs deſpiſe, And periſh would, or them another ſau'd. A number too that all things doe content, What each one thinkes, are ſtill reſolu'd to doe: They make a choice, then doe the choice repent, And ſtrait repent of that repentance too. The publike weale is ſpoi'ld by priuate hopes, Whilſt many thus the higheſt honour claime: This variance giues their fancies freeſt ſcopes, Its beſt to fiſh within a troubled ſtreame. See how diſſention hath diſſolu'd ſo ſoone, All kinde of order and confuſion brought: This diſcord hath our councell quite vndone, Whilſt one would haue done all, all haue done nought. Though that Perdiccas (as it would haue ſeem'd) As being deuoted to the ſacred blood: Sought (by that meanes more vertuous to b'eſteem'd) His Princes honour, and his Countries good. Yet hauing his companions in contempt, He ſought by ſubtill meanes himſelfe t'aduance, And ſo to ſhaddow his diſguiſde attempt, Aym'd at th'imperiall place as but by chance.