Alexander, William · published 1637 · first performed or written 1607 [1605-1607] (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm · 541 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
The pleasures far exceeded are by pain: Life greater grief than comfort still affords. What grief, no, rather rage did feaze my soul. Whilst big with hopes a battle bend to prove! That sudden sickness did my course control, Which (cold when kind) embracing floods did move. From the Physician then (though deemed for ill) I took his potion, gave him scandalous lines; Then whilst he red did drink, yet eyed him still, And by accusing looks sought guilty signs; Not that suspicious fears could make me sad, This was the ground whence did proceed my pain, Lest death my victory prevented had: For, I was sure still where I fought to gain, But when that I extended had my state From learned Athens to the barbarous I●des, Still my tumultuous troops my pride did hate, As monstrous mutinies unmasked their minds. I (so my name more wonderful to make) Of Hercules, and Bacchus past the bounds, And (whilst that Memnon's Sunne-burnt bands did quake) Did write my worth in many a Monarch's wounds. Kings were my Subjects, and my servants Kings, Yet my contentment further did require, For, I imagined still more mighty things, And to a greater greatness did aspire. The spacious career of the speedy Sun, (All quickly thralled) like lightning I o're-ran: Yet wept, and wished more worlds t'have been won, As this had wanted room to ease one man, No wonder I was thought a God by some, Since all my aims (though high as heaven) prevailed, And what man (save myself) did still overcome? Of all my fancies, never project failed. This made me thought immortalized to be, Which in all mind's amazement yet contracts: I led blind Fortune, and she courted me, As glad to grace the greatness of my acts. Yet I have found it a more easy thing, To conquer all whereon the Sun ere shined, Then mine own self, and (of my passions King) To calm the tumults of a stormy mind. What comfort justly could my soul receive Of all my Conquests past, if that even then Whilst I triumphed (to wrath and wine a slave) I scaped not scandal more than other men; Ah! (seizing without right on every state) I but myself too great a Monarch made, Since all men gaped to get the golden bait Which by my death seemed easy to be had; Whilst from humanity too much divorced, My deeds all hearts with fear, and horror filled, I who by foes could never have been forced, By friends did fall, yet not over-comed, but killed. But now I see the troublous time draws near, When they shall keep my obsequies with blood: No wonder too, though such a warrior's beer, At last doth swim amidst a scarlet flood: For, as my life did breed huge broils o'er all, My death must be the cause of monstrous cumbers, And it doth best become a strong man's fall, To be renowned by ruining of numbers. The Snake-tressed Sisters now shall never need Their fatal firebrands, loathsome Pluto's pests, Nor inspirations strange whose rage doth breed A thirst of murder in transported breasts. Ambition's flames may from my ashes shine To burn my Minions minds with high desires,
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)
"The pleaſures farre exceeded are by paine: "Life greater griefe then comfort ſtill affords. What griefe, no, rather rage did feaze my ſoule. Whil'ſt bigge with hopes a battell bent to prove! That ſudden ſickneſſe did my courſe controull, Which (cold when kinde) embracing flouds did move. From the Phyſician then (though deem'd for ill) I took his potion, gave him ſcandalous lines; Then whil'ſt he red did drinke, yet ey'd him ſtill, And by accuſing looks ſought guilty ſignes; Not that ſuſpitious feares could make me ſad, This was the ground whence did proceed my paine, Leſt death my victory prevented had: For, I was ſure ſtill where I fought to gaine, But when that I extended had my ſtate From learned Athens to the barbarous Ides, Still my tumultuous troups my pride did hate, As monſtrous mutinies unmask'd their mindes. I (ſo my name more wonderfull to make) Of Hercules, and Bacchus paſt the bounds, And (whil'ſt that Memnons Sunne-burnt bands did quke) Did write my worth in many a Monarchs wounds. Kings were my Subjects, and my ſervants Kings, Yet my contentment further did require, For, I imagin'd ſtill more mighty things, And to a greater greatneſſe did aſpire. The ſpatious carriere of the ſpeedy Sunne, (All quickly thrall'd) like lightning I o're-ran: Yet wept, and wiſh'd more worlds t'have been wonne, As this had wanted roome to eaſe one man, No wonder I was thought a God by ſome, Since all my aymes (though high as heaven) prevail'd, And what man (ſave my ſelfe) did ſtill o're-come? Of all my fancies, never project fail'd. This made me thought immortaliz'd to be, Which in all mindes amazement yet contracts: I led blinde Fortune, and ſhe courted me, As glad to grace the greatneſſe of my acts. Yet I have found it a more eaſie thing, To conquer all whereon the Sunne ere ſhin'd, Then mine owne ſelfe, and (of my paſſions King) To calme the tumults of a ſtormy minde. What comfort juſtly could my ſoule receive Of all my Conqueſts paſt, if that even then Whil'ſt I triumph'd (to wrath and wine a ſlave) I ſcap'd not ſcandall more then other men; Ah! (ſeazing without right on every ſtate) I but my ſelte too great a Monarch made, Since all men gap'd to get the golden bait Which by my death ſeem'd eaſie to be had; Whil'ſt from humanity too much divorc'd, My deeds all hearts with feare, and horrour fill'd, I who by foes could never have beene forc'd, By friends did fall, yet not over-com'd, but kill'd. But now I ſee the troublous time draws neare, When they ſhall keep my obſequies with blond: No wonder too, though ſuch a warriours beere, At laſt doth ſwimme amidſt a ſcarlet floud: For, as my life did breed huge broils o're all, My death muſt be the cauſe of monſtrous cumbers, And it doth beſt become a ſtrong mans fall, To be renown'd by ruining of numbers. The Snake-treſſ'd Siſters now ſhall never need Their fatall fire-brands, loathſome Pluto's peſts, Nor inſpirations ſtrange whoſe rage doth breed A thirſt of murther in tranſported breſts. Ambitions flames may from my aſhes ſhine To burne my Minions mindes with high deſires,