Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
WHen darkness last imprisoned had mine eyes, Such monstrous visions did my soul affright, That my dejected sprite still stupid dies, Through terrors then contracted in the night. A melancholious cloud so dims my breast, That it my mind fit for misfortune makes, A lodging well disposed for such a guest, Where nought of sorrow but th'impression lacks. And I imagine every man I see (My senses so corrupted are by fears) A Herald to denounce mishaps to me, That should infuse confusion in mine cares. O there he comes to violate my peace, In whom the object of my thoughts I see: Thy message is charactered in thy face, Which by thy looks directed is to me: Thy troubled eyes rest rolling for relief, As lately frighted by some ugly sight, Thy breath doth pant as if being big with grief, And feared to bring some monstrous birth to light. The man of whom the world in doubt remained, If that his mind, or fortune was more great, Whose valour conquered, clemency retained All nations subject to the Roman state; Him fraud harmed more than force, friends more than, foes Ah, must this sad discourse by me be made? Stay; ere thou further go defray my woes, How doth my love? where is my life? Num. Dead. Cal. dead. Though apprehending horrors in her mind, Now since she hath a certainty received, She by experience greater grief doth find, Till borne, the passions cannot be conceived. whenas a high disaster force affords, O how that tyrant whom affliction bears, Bars th'ears from comfort, & the mouth from words. And being obdured cannot dissolve in tears. Ah, since the lights of that great light are set, Why doth not darkness spread itself over all? At lest what further comfort can I get Whose pleasures had no period but his fall. O would the gods I always might confine Aetna' in my breast, and th'Ocean in mine eyes, That t'entertain so great a grief as mine, Thence might sufficient furniture arise. Yet I disdain though by distress o'erthrown, By such external means to seek relief: The greatest sorrows are by silence shown, Whilst all the senses are shut up with grief: But misery doth so tyrannic grow, That it of sighs and tears a tribute claims: Ah, when the cup is full it must o'erflow, And fires that burn must offer up some flames. Yet though that thy last words my last might be, Which are deep sunk within a melted heart, Of my lives death report each point to me, That I for every circumstance may smart. What fatal warnings did forego his end, Which by his stay to frustrate some did try? But he that scorned excuses to pretend, Was by the Destinies drawn forth to die. Whilst by the way he chanced t'encounter one That had his deaths-day named, he to him said; Now th'Ides of March be comed, but yet not gone, Straight th'other answered, and still constant staid.
nodes 2826–2889 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 44 of 49 in this edition
Length
502 words · 650 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.780 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T10 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
WHen darkneſſe laſt impriſond had mine eies, Such monſtrous viſions did my ſoule affright, That my deiected ſprite ſtill ſtupid dyes, Through terrors then contracted in the night. A melancholious cloud ſo dimmes my breaſt, That it my mind fit for miſfortune makes, A lodging well diſpoſde for ſuch a gueſt, Where nought of ſorrow but th'impreſsion lackes. And I imagine euery man I ſee (My ſenſes ſo corrupted are by feares) A Herauld to denounce miſhaps to me, That ſhould infuſe confuſion in mine cares. O there he comes to violate my peace, In whom the obiect of my thoughts I ſee: Thy meſſage is charecter'd in thy face, Which by thy lookes directed is to me: Thy troubled eyes reſt rouling for releife, As lately frighted by ſome ougly ſight, Thy breath doth pant as if being big with griefe, And fear'd to bring ſome monſtrous birth to light. The man of whom the world in doubt remain'd, If that his minde, or fortune was more great, Whoſe valour conquer'd, clemencie retain'd All nations ſubiect to the Romane ſtate; Him fraude harm'd more then force, friends more then, foes Ah, muſt this ſad diſcourſe by mee be made? Stay; ere thou further goe defray my woes, How doth my loue? wher is my life? Nū. Dead. Cal. dead. Though apprehending horrors in her minde, Now ſince ſhe hath a certaintie receiu'd, She by experience greater griefe doth finde, Till borne, the paſſions cannot be conceiu'd. When as a high diſaſter force affords, O how that tyrant whom affliction beares, Barres theares from comfort, & the mouth from words. And being obdur'd cannot diſſolue in teares. Ah, ſince the lights of that great light are ſet, Why doth not darkneſſe ſpread it ſelfe ouer all? At leaſt what further comfort can I get Whoſe pleaſures had no period but his fall. O would the gods I alwayes might confine Aetna' in my breaſt, and th'Ocean in mine eyes, That t'entertaine ſo great a griefe as mine, Thence might ſufficient furniture ariſe. Yet I diſdaine though by diſtreſſe ore-throwne, By ſuch externall meanes to ſeeke reliefe: The greateſt ſorrowes are by ſilence ſhowne, Whilſt all the ſences are ſhut vp with griefe: But miſerie doth ſo tyrannicke grow, That it of ſighes and teares a tribute claimes: Ah, when the cup is full it muſt ore-flow, And fires that burne muſt offer vp ſome flames. Yet though that thy laſt words my laſt might be, Which are deepe ſunke within a melted heart, Of my liues death report each point to me, That I for euery circumſtance may ſmart. What fatall warnings did fore-go his end, Which by his ſtay to fruſtrate ſome did try? But he that ſcorn'd excuſes to pretend, Was by the Deſtinies drawne forth to die. Whilſt by the way he chanc'd t'encounter one That had his deaths-day nam'd, he to him ſaid; Now th'Ides of March be com'd, but yet not gone, Straight tho'other anſwerd, and ſtill conſtant ſtaide.