Alexander, William · published 1637 · first performed or written 1607 (Annals) tragedy T12 Olympian gods: Jupiter, Juno, Venus and typicality 0.71 · 475 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T12: iupiter, saturn, iuno, venus, gods, mars, earth, titan, love, fair.
THough I (a Goddess) grace the azure round, Whilst birds (all bright with eyes) my Coach do move, And am with radiant stars, heaven's Empress crowned, The thunderers sister, wife of mighty Iove, And though I banquet in th'ethe rial bowers, Where Ambrosia and Nectar serves for meat, And at the meeting of th' Immortal powers, And still advanced unto the highest seat: Yet by those glorious shows of boundless bliss, My burdened mind can no way be relieved: Since immortality affords but this, That I live ever to be ever grieved. In vain, vain mortals seek for help at me, With sacred odours on my Altars thrown: What expectation can they have to see One venge their wrongs, who cannot venge her own? May Pallas then drown thousands if she please, Who metamorphosed Diomedes mates? And must my enemies always live at ease, As me to spite appointed by the fates? Of all the dying race which lives below, With such indignities none could comport, As wound my breast, whom Gods and men do know, To be abused by Iove in many a sort. Though known to me, from others if concealed, His faults might breed me grief, but yet not shame; Where, lo, now both through heaven and earth revealed, Each slanderous Theatre doth his scorn proclaim. If divine souls divinely lived aloft, The world below would imitate them then, But humanised by haunting mortals oft, Where men should grow like Gods, Gods grow like men. My painted Iris in her beauty's pride, Smiles not on Phoebus with so many hues, As Iove in diverse shapes himself can hide, When he poor Maids (by Cupid spurred) pursues; He Danae (a golden shower) deceived; And did (a Swan) in Leda's bosom light; Then (turned a Bull) Agenor's daughter reaved; And Io made a Cow to mock my sight: But O! I wish that with such wanton Dames, He still to sport would as with me remain; Not able then to touch celestial flames, All (like the drunkard's mother) might be slain. Then such a troop as Rhea's bosom stores, Would not hold him and me at endless jars; The heavens are pestered with my husband's whores, Whose lights impure do taint the purest stars. Though wrongs, when gross, are heavy to digest, An Actor's greatness doth some grief remove, Of whom to suffer wrong it shames one least: If I were wronged ' I would be wronged by Iove; But (ah) this long, tormented hath my breast, A Man, a Boy, a shepherd, yea, and worse, The Phrygian firebrand, the adulterous guest, Who first wrought wrong by fraud, and then by force; He, he was he, whose verdict moved me most, Whilst partial fancies judged of beauties right; Nor was it strange though one all judgement lost, Who had three naked Goddesses in sight;
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 0–59 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 1 of 50 in this edition
Length
475 words · 663 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T12 — Olympian gods: Jupiter, Juno, Venus and Marscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.705 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T28 · seed 44: T22 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
THough I (a Goddeſſe) grace the azure round, Whilſt birds (all bright with eyes) my Coach do move, And am with radiant ſtarres, heavens Empreſſe crown'd, The thunderers ſiſter, wife of mighty Iove, And though I banquet in th'ethe riall bowres, Where Ambroſie and Nectar ſerves for meate, And at the meeting of th' Immortall powres, And ſtill advanc'd unto the higheſt ſeat: Yet by thoſe glorious ſhewes of boundleſſe bliſſe, My burden'd minde can no way be reliev'd: Since immortallity affords but this, That I live ever to be ever griev'd. In vaine, vaine mortals ſeeke for helpe at me, With ſacred odours on my Altars throwne: What expectation can they have to ſee One venge their wrongs, who cannot venge her own? May Pallas then drowne thouſands if ſhe pleaſe, Who metamorphos'd Diomedes mates? And muſt my enemies alwaies live at eaſe, As me to ſpight appointed by the fates? Of all the dying race which lives below, With ſuch indignities none could comport, As wound my breſt, whom Gods and men doe know, To be abus'd by Iove in many a ſort. Though knowne to me, from others if conceal'd, His faults might breed me griefe, but yet not ſhame; Where, loe, now both through heaven and earth reveal'd, Each ſlandrous Theater doth his ſcorne proclaime. If divine ſoules divinely liv'd aloft, The world below would imitate them then, But humaniz'd by haunting mortals oft, Where men ſhould grow like Gods, Gods grow like men. My painted Iris in her beauties pride, Smiles not on Phoebus with ſo many hewes, As Iove in divers ſhapes himſelfe can hide, When he poore Maydes (by Cupid ſpurr'd) purſues; He Danae (a golden ſhower) deceiv'd; And did (a Swanne) in Ledaes boſome light; Then (turn'd a Bull) Agenors daughter reav'd; And Io made a Cow to mocke my ſight: But O! I wiſh that with ſuch wanton Dames, He ſtill to ſport would as with me remaine; Not able then to touch celeſtiall flames, All (like the drunkards mother) might be ſlaine. Then ſuch a troupe as Rheas boſome ſtores, Would not hold him and me at endleſſe jarres; The heavens are peſtred with my husbands whores, Whoſe lights impure doe taint the pureſt ſtarres. "Though wrongs, when groſſe, are heavy to digeſt, "An Actors greatneſſe doth ſome griefe remove, "Of whom to ſuffer wrong it ſhames one leaſt: "If I were wrong'd 'I would be wrong'd by Iove; But (ah) this long, tormented hath my breſt, A Man, a Boy, a ſhepheard, yea, and worſe, The Phrygian fire-brand, the adultrous gueſt, Who firſt wrought wrong by fraud, and then by force; He, he was he, whoſe verdict mov'd me moſt, Whilſt partiall fancies judg'd of beauties right; Nor was it ſtrange though one all judgement loſt, Who had three naked Goddeſſes in ſight;