Alexander, William · published 1637 · first performed or written 1607 [1605-1607] (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T34 Thebes and royal catastrophe: siege, sla · 546 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T34: thebes, antigone, polynices, creon, eteocles, war, theban, gods, dear, country.
To Alexandria to transport me once, Not moved by love, no, for another end, In hope my Fortune will attend my bones. And must I then so great a trouble have (To whom the Earth did all belong before) For some few foots of Earth to be a grave, Which mean men get, and great men get no more. Though many thousand at my sign did bow, Is this the end of all my Conquests then To be thus barred that little circuit now, A benefit even common unto men▪ But of those kingdoms which were thrall to me, Lest that a little part my body bound, Th'earth arched with heaven my fatal bed should be, Still unconfined, and even when dead, yet crowned. O blind ambition! great minds viperous brood, The scourge of mankind, and the foe to rest, Thou guilty art of many millions blood, And whilst I reigned, didst reign within my breast; This to my soul but small contentment brings, That I some Cities reared, and others razed: And made Kings captives; captives to be Kings, Then whilst the wondering world did stand amazed. All that doth now but torture after death, Which raised my Fame on pillars more than rare; O costly conquest of a little breath, Whose flattering sounds both go and come with th'air! Can I be he who thought it a disgrace To be but weighed with other mortals even, Who would be held of an immortal race, The offspring of great Iove, the heir of heaven? By many means I all men's minds did move, For Altars (as a God) with offerings stored, Till of his glory Iove did jealous prove: All kings should reverenced be, but not adored. Ah! whilst (transported with a prosperous state) I toiled to raise my Throne above the Stars, The thunderer strait (who still doth pride abate) Did wound my fame with most infamous wars. Made I not grave Calisthenes to smart, Who did disdain a mortal to adore, (What known unknowing) bent by foolish art, Though but a man to be imagined more? All feared the danger of my roaring wrath, (Like Lions when asleep) which none durst wake; My fury was the Messenger of death, Which when inflamed, made flaming squadrons quake: Ambition did so far my thoughts engage, That I could not abide my Father's praise, But (though my friend) killed Clitus in a rage, Who Philips Fami durst in my presence raise. Thus though that I mine Enemies did abate, I made my greatest friends become my foes, Who did my insolence (as barbarous hate) And for the like afraid wailed others woes. Those tyrannies which thousands chanced to see As inhuman a multitude admired: And my familiars strangers grown with me, As from a Tyrant for distrust retired: Yea, there were many too who did conspire By base ambushments to have snared my life, Of all my labours, lo, this was the hire! Those must have store of toils who toil for st●●●e▪ And I remember that amidst my joys, (Even whilst the chase of Armies was my sport) There wanted not a number of annoys To counter-poise my pleasures in some sort. Of those on th'earth most happy that remain, (As aged Experience constantly records)
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)
To Alexandria to tranſport me once, Not mov'd by love, no, for another end, In hope my Fortune will attend my bones. And muſt I then ſo great a trouble have (To whom the Earth did all belong before) For ſome few foots of Earth to be a grave, VVhich meane men get, and great men get no more. Though many thouſand at my ſigne did bow, Is this the end of all my Conqueſts then To be thus barr'd that little circuit now, A benefit even common unto men▪ But of thoſe kingdomes which were thrall to me, Leſt that a little part my body bound, Th'earth arch'd with heaven my fatall bed ſhould be, Still unconfin'd, and even when dead, yet crown'd. O blinde ambition! great mindes viprous brood, The ſcourge of mankinde, and the foe to reſt, Thou guilty art of many millions bloud, And whil'ſt I raign'd, didſt raigne within my breſt; This to my ſoule but ſmall contentment brings, That I ſome Cities rear'd, and others raz'd: And made Kings captives; captives to be Kings, Then whil'ſt the wond'ring world did ſtand amaz'd. All that doth now but torture after death, Which rais'd my Fame on pillars more then rare; O coſtly conqueſt of a little breath, Whoſe flattring ſounds both go and come with th'aire! Can I be he who thought it a diſgrace To be but weigh'd with other mortals even, Who would be held of an immortall race, The off-ſpring of great Iove, the heire of heaven? By many meanes I all mens mindes did move, For Altars (as a God) with off'rings ſtor'd, Till of his glory Iove did jealous prove: "All kings ſhould reverenc'd be, but not ador'd. Ah! whil'ſt (tranſported with a proſp'rous ſtate) I toil'd to raiſe my Throne above the Starres, The thund'rer ſtraight (who ſtill doth pride abate) Did wound my fame with moſt infamous warres. Made I not grave Caliſtenes to ſmart, Who did diſdaine a mortall to adore, (What knowne unknowing) bent by fooliſh art, Though but a man to be imagin'd more? All fear'd the danger of my roaring wrath, (Like Lyons when aſleep) which none durſt wake; My fury was the Meſſenger of death, Which when enflam'd, made flaming ſquadrons quake: Ambition did ſo farre my thoughts engage, That I could not abide my Fathers praiſe, But (though my friend) kill'd Clitus in a rage, Who Philips Fami durſt in my preſence raiſe. Thus though that I mine Enemies did abate, I made my greateſt friends become my foes, Who did my inſolence (as barbarous hate) And for the like afraid wail'd others woes. Thoſe tyrannies which thouſands chanc'd to ſee As inhumane a multitude admir'd: And my familiars ſtrangers growne with me, As from a Tyrant for diſtruſt retyr'd: Yea, there were many too who did conſpire By baſe ambuſhments to have ſnar'd my life, Of all my labours, loe, this was the hire! "Thoſe muſt have ſtore of toils who toile for ſte▪ And I remember that amid'ſt my joyes, (Even whil'ſt the chaſe of Armies was my ſport) There wanted not a number of annoyes To counter-poiſe my pleaſures in ſome ſort. "Of thoſe on th'earth moſt happy that remaine, "(As ag'd Experience conſtantly records)