Alexander, William · published 1637 · first performed or written 1607 [1605-1607] (Annals) tragedy T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm typicality 0.79 · 545 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
BAck from th'umbrageous caves (still robbed of rest) Must I return, where Phoebus guilds the fields, A Ghost not worthy to be Pluto's Guest, Since one to whom the world no burial yields? O what a great disgrace is this to me, Whose Trophies Fame in many a kingdom keeps. That I (contemned) cannot transported be A passenger for the Sulphurean deeps? Dare churlish Charon (though not used to bow) The raging torrent of my wrath gain-stand? Must I succumb amidst hell's dungeons now, Though all the world accustomed to command? But it may be that this hath wrought me harm, What bloodless Ghosts do stray on Stygian banks, Whose falls (made famous by my fatal arm) Gave terror oft to many martial ranks? Yet (for a prey exposed to ravenous beasts) Can never have the honour of a Tomb; But (though for such rude guests too precious feasts) Were basely buried in a brutish womb. Thus (as it seems) the horror of such deeds, With like indignity attends my spirit; What stormy breast this thirst of vengeance breeds, To plague for that which valour did acquit? Ah! might Alcmena's son (as son of Iove) Once force the dreary forts of endless night, To match stern Dis in the Tartarian grove, And draw forth foaming Cerberus to light? Then leading Theseus through the dungeons dark, A second rape aimed for their ravished Queen, Durst he (hell's terror) force the fatal Bark, By squadrons pale (an envied victor) seen▪ And in my rage may I not toss this Round, Till roaring Earthquakes all the world affright, Heaven stained, hell cleared, earth torn, all to confound Enlightening darkness, or else darkening light? What, though I from terrestrial Regions swerve, Whom in this state (it may be) some mistake? May not the voice of Alexander serve To make th'earth tremble, and the depths to shake? Or, strait returned, shall I my fortune trust, And th'Earth dispeople, slaughtering scattered hosts; Then Pluto plague, all charged with blood and dust, When men are killed to be a King of Ghosts? O how I burst to think how some above, Who for their glory did my steps attend, My offsprings title proudly do disprove, And to my Chair by violence ascend: Ingratitude doth grieve a generous spirit, Would God therefore that with a body stored, I might return these Traitors to acquit, My back with Arms, my hand charged with a sword: As when I entered in a populous Town, To war alone with thousands in my wrath, Whilst (prising honour dearer than my Crown) Each of my blows gave wounds, each wound gave death: Then thundering vengeance on rebellious bands, I would make them redeem my grace with groans, Where now my Ghost (impaled with horror) stands, Less graced than those whom I commanded once; And yet the glory by those Captains had, Whom first my Ensigns did acquaint with fame, Doth make my soul (whilst hating them) more sad, Then all the sufferings that the hells can claim. O now I see what all my Minions blinds, To grace my funerals that they take no pain! My state (betraying me) distracts their minds, Who have forgot all love, save love to reign; But Ptolemy doth yet by time intent
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 0–68 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 1 of 54 in this edition
Length
545 words · 758 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T36 — Hell, Furies and the language of punishmentcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.786 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T32 · seed 44: T26 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
BAck from th'umbragious caves (ſtill rob'd of reſt) Muſt I returne, where Phoebus guilds the fields, A Ghoſt not worthy to be Pluto's Gueſt, Since one to whom the world no buriall yeelds? O what a great diſgrace is this to me, Whoſe Trophees Fame in many a kingdom keeps. That I (contemn'd) cannot tranſported be A paſſenger for the Sulphurean deeps? Dare churliſh Charon (though not us'd to bow) The raging torrent of my wrath gain-ſtand? Muſt I ſuccumbe amidſt hels dungeons now, Though all the world accuſtom'd to command? But it may be that this hath wrought me harme, What bloud-leſſe Ghoſts do ſtray on Stygian banks, Whoſe falls (made famous by my fatall arme) Gave terrour oft to many martiall ranks? Yet (for a prey expos'd to ravenous beaſts) Could never have the honour of a Tombe; But (though for ſuch rude gueſts too pretious feaſts) Were baſely buried in a brutiſh wombe. Thus (as it ſeemes) the horrour of ſuch deeds, With like indignity attends my ſprite; What ſtormy breaſt this thirſt of vengeance breeds, To plague for that which valour did acquite? Ah! might Alcmena's ſonne (as ſonne of Iove) Once force the driery forts of endleſſe night, To match ſterne Dis in the Tartarian grove, And draw forth foaming Cerberus to light? Then leading Theſeus through the dungeons darke, A ſecond rape aym'd for their raviſh'd Queene, Durſt he (hels terrour) force the fatall Barke, By ſquadrons pale (an envi'd victor) ſeene▪ And in my rage may I not toſſe this Round, Till roaring Earth-quakes all the world affright, Heaven ſtain'd, hell clear'd, earth torne, all to confound Enlightning darkneſſe, or elſe darkning light? What, though I from terreſtriall Regions ſwerve, Whom in this ſtate (it may be) ſome miſtake? May not the voyce of Alexander ſerve To make th'earth tremble, and the depths to ſhake? Or, ſtraight return'd, ſhall I my fortune truſt, And th'Earth diſpeople, ſlaughtring ſcatt'red hoſts; Then Pluto plague, all charg'd with bloud and duſt, When men are kill'd to be a King of Ghoſts? O how I burſt to thinke how ſome above, Who for their glory did my ſteps attend, My off-ſprings title proudly do diſprove, And to my Chaire by violence aſcend: "Ingratitude doth grieve a generous ſprite, VVould God therefore that with a body ſtor'd, I might returne theſe Traitors to acquite, My back with Armes, my hand charg'd with a ſword: As when I entred in a populous Towne, To warre alone with thouſands in my wrath, Whil'ſt (prizing honour dearer then my Crowne) Each of my blows gave wounds, each wound gave death: Then thundring vengeance on rebellious bands, I would make them redeeme my grace with grones, Where now my Ghoſt (empall'd with horror) ſtands, Leſſe grac'd then thoſe whom I commanded once; And yet the glory by thoſe Captaines had, Whom firſt my Enſignes did acquaint with fame, Doth make my ſoule (whil'ſt hating them) more ſad, Then all the ſuffrings that the hells can claime. O now I ſee what all my Minions blindes, To grace my funerals that they take no paine! My ſtate (betraying me) diſtracts their mindes, Who have forgot all love, ſave love to raigne; But Ptolomie doth yet by time intend