Alexander, William · published 1637 · first performed or written 1607 [1605-1607] (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T25 Kings, power and law: political sententi · 514 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T25: feare, kings, power, princes, lawes, loue, state, downe, honor, men.
Lo, now of late delivered of a son, I to those Captains scarce dare make it known, His kingdoms all to part who have begun, And might (by killing him) make them their own. Ah! (Madam) this doth move me most to pause, Who of those great men the ambition fear, Lest by pretending but a public cause, They seek themselves the Diadem to bear▪ Thus, they of my young babe (fraud masking wrath) Would but be Tutors first, and Traitors then, far from obedience, duty, love or faith: No things more dear than Diadems to men. As those whose courage cannot be dis●a●●, Let us now strive what way a force to find; And whilst that pity doth procure for aid, The people's passions tune unto our mind. If that their love not vanished with his life, Of Alexander (in a high degree) I think the Son, the Mother, and the Wife, By Macedonians still must reverenced be. And this doth with disdain my soul consume, That Arideus amongst other wrongs, And proud Eurydice his wife presume To take the honour which to us belongs. O! they shall find my fortune not so changed, But I am able yet to curb their pride: What? what? Olympias must be revenged, And (save herself) no Queen she can abide. Lo, how all good decays, And ills do now abound; In this sky-compassed round, There is no kind of trust: For, mankind whilst it strays In pleasure-paved ways, With floods of vice is drowned; And doth (far from refuge) In endless shadows lodge, Yet strives to rise no more: No doubt (as most unjust) The world once perish must, And worse now to restore, Than it was of before, When at the last deluge, Men by Deucalion once Were made again of stones; And well this wicked race bewrays a stony kind, Which bears a stubborn mind, Still hardened ●nto sin. Lo, now in every place All virtuous motions cease, And sacred faith we find, far from the earth is fled, Whose flight huge mischief bred, And fills the world with wars, Whilst impious breasts begin To let base Treason in: Which common concord mars, Whilst all men live at jars, And nets of fraud do spread, The simple to surprise, Too witty, but not wise, Yet those who in deceit Their confidence repose, A thing more dear do lose Then can by guile be gained; Which when repent late, May ruin once their state, Whilst purer spirits disclose With what their breasts are stored; For, though they would remord, They get not trust again; But, having honour stained, And covenants profaned, Are held in high disdain, And do in end remain, Of all the world abhorred; Not trusty when they should, Not trusted when they would: But ah! our Nobles now, Lo, like Lysander still, So that they get their will, Regard not by what way, And with a shameless brow, Do of the end allow, Even though the means were ill, Which all the world may see, Disgraceth their degree, Who (changing every hour)
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)
Loe, now of late delivered of a ſonne, I to thoſe Captaines ſcarce dare make it knowne, His kingdomes all to part who have begunne, And might (by killing him) make them their owne. Ah! (Madame) this doth move me moſt to pauſe, Who of thoſe great men the ambition feare, Leſt by pretending but a publike cauſe, They ſeeke themſelves the Diadem to beare▪ Thus, they of my yong babe (fraud masking wrath) Would but be Tutors firſt, and Traitors then, Farre from obedience, duty, love or faith: "No things more deare then Diadems to men. As thoſe whoſe courage cannot be diſa, Let us now ſtrive what way a force to finde; And whilſt that pitty doth procure for ayde, The peoples paſſions tune unto our minde. If that their love not vaniſh'd with his life, Of Alexander (in a high degree) I thinke the Sonne, the Mother, and the Wife, By Macedonians ſtill muſt reverenc'd be. And this doth with diſdaine my ſoule conſume, That Arideus amongſt other wrongs, And proud Euridice his wife preſume To take the honour which to us belongs. O! they ſhall finde my fortune not ſo chang'd, But I am able yet to curbe their pride: What? what? Olympias muſt be reveng'd, And (ſave her ſelfe) no Queene ſhe can abide. Loe, how all good decayes, And ills doe now abound; "In this sky-compaſs'd round, "There is no kinde of truſt: "For, man-kinde whilſt it ſtrayes "In pleaſure-paved wayes, "With flouds of vice is drown'd; And doth (farre from refuge) In endleſſe ſhadowes lodge, Yet ſtrives to riſe no more: "No doubt (as moſt unjuſt) "The world once periſh muſt, And worſe now to reſtore, Then it was of before, When at the laſt deluge, Men by Deucalion once Were made againe of ſtones; And well this wicked race Bewrayes a ſtony kinde, Which beares a ſtubborne minde, Still hardned nto ſinne. Loe, now in every place All vertuous motions ceaſe, And ſacred faith we finde, Farre from the earth is fled, Whoſe flight huge miſchiefe bred, And filles the world with warres, Whilſt impious breſts begin To let baſe Treaſon in: Which common concord marres, Whilſt all men live at jarres, And nets of fraud doe ſpreade, The ſimple to ſurpriſe, Too witty, but not wiſe, Yet thoſe who in deceit Their confidence repoſe, A thing more deare doe loſe Then can by guile be gain'd; Which when repented late, May ruine once their ſtate, Whilſt purer ſprites diſcloſe With what their breaſts are ſtor'd; For, though they would remord, They get not truſt againe; But, having honour ſtain'd, And covenants prophan'd, Are held in high diſdaine, "And doe in end remaine, "Of all the world abhorrd; "Not truſty when they ſhould, "Not truſted when they would: But ah! our Nobles now, Loe, like Lyſander ſtill, So that they get their will, Regard not by what way, And with a ſhameleſſe brow, Doe of the end allow, Even though the meanes were ill, Which all the world may ſee, Diſgraceth their degree, Who (changing every houre)