Alexander, William · published 1637 · first performed or written 1607 (Annals) tragedy T2 Roman politics: senate, consuls and civi typicality 0.75 · 486 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
Three base-born Grooms (can fortune change so soon?) Stood to consult upon great Pompey's life, And did what thousands durst not once have done; Then he whose knees had oft been kissed by Kings, (Most highly happy, had he died in time) By one of his own slaves, with abject things His funerals had performed; what monstrous crime Rome's greatest Captain to entomb alone? The Roman who arrived with reason said: The fatal glory was too great for one, And to have part of that last honour stayed; The tears bestowed by Caesar on his head, Forth from a guilty mind, remorse had thrown: Or else he wept to see his enemy dead By any others hands then by his own. That constant Cato, who even death did scorn, And for a coward once had Caesar braved, (Who lived as if to grace all mortals borne) Would rather perish then by him be saved. He justly whilst more just, himself more strong Than Caesar thought, who for no justice cared: And since discovering what he cloaked so long, Said, that the other, and not he was snared. Thus Caesar conquered all but Cato's mind, Who to a tyrant would not owe his breath: But in such sort his famous course confined, Then Caesar's life, more glorious was his death: Those great men thus brought to disastrous ends, The author of their death make me despise, Who to usurp all power while as he tends, By treading good men down, doth strive to rise. Now made most great by lessening all the great, He proudly doth triumph in Rome, o'er Rome: And we must seem to like the present state, Whose doubtful breath depends upon his doom. Yet had I not enlarged my griefs so long, To you whom Caesar doth pretend to love; Save that (I know) touched with the common wrong: A just disdain all generous minds must move. Had Caesar willingly resigned his Arms, And rendered Rome her liberty at last, When as from sores he feared no further harms, But had repaired his just displeasures past, More than for all that could be done for me, He should have had and Altar in my best, As worthy (for his virtuous deeds) to be Feared by the bad, and honoured by the best: But since (though conquering all the world by might) He (to himself a slave) would make Rome thrall, His benefits are loathsome in my sight, And I am grieved that he deserves to fall; My fancies move not in so low a sphere, But I disdain that one Rome's Crown requires; Yet it is best that with the time we bear, And with our power proportion our desires. Though first dissembling, so your mind to try, I told what fame to Caesar's praise relates; Yet was I pleased, that more were grieved than I: All miscontented men are glad of Mates.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 831–889 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 14 of 50 in this edition
Length
486 words · 616 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T2 — Roman politics: senate, consuls and civil warcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.750 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T1 · seed 44: T2 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Three baſe-borne Groomes (can fortune change ſo ſoone?) Stood to conſult upon great Pompeys life, And did what thouſands durſt not once have done; Then he whoſe knees had oft been kiſs'd by Kings, (Moſt highly happy, had he dy'd in time) By one of his owne ſlaves, with abject things His funerals had perform'd; what monſtrous crime Romes greateſt Captaine to entombe alone? The Roman who arriv'd with reaſon ſaid: The fatall glory was too great for one, And to have part of that laſt honour ſtaid; The teares beſtow'd by Caeſar on his head, Forth from a guilty minde, remorſe had throwne: Or elſe he wept to ſee his enemie dead By any others hands then by his owne. That conſtant Cato, who even death did ſcorne, And for a coward once had Caeſar brav'd, (Who liv'd as if to grace all mortals borne) Would rather periſh then by him be ſav'd. He juſtly whilſt more juſt, himſelfe more ſtrong Then Caeſar thought, who for no juſtice car'd: And ſince diſcovering what he cloak'd ſo long, Said, that the other, and not he was ſnar'd. Thus Caeſar conquer'd all but Cato's minde, Who to a tyrant would not owe his breath: But in ſuch ſort his famous courſe confin'd, Then Caeſars life, more glorious was his death: Thoſe great men thus brought to diſaſtrous ends, The author of their death make me deſpiſe, Who to uſurpe all pow'r while as he tends, By treading good men downe, doth ſtrive to riſe. Now made moſt great by leſſening all the great, He proudly doth triumph in Rome, o're Rome: And we muſt ſeeme to like the preſent ſtate, Whoſe doubtfull breath depends upon his doome. Yet had I not enlarg'd my griefes ſo long, To you whom Caeſar doth pretend to love; Save that (I know) touch'd with the common wrong: "A juſt diſdaine all generous mindes muſt move. Had Caeſar willingly reſign'd his Armes, And rendred Rome her liberty at laſt, When as from fores he fear'd no further harmes, But had repair'd his juſt diſpleaſures paſt, More then for all that could be done for me, He ſhould have had and Altar in my beſt, As worthy (for his vertuous deeds) to be Fear'd by the bad, and honour'd by the beſt: But ſince (though conqu'ring all the world by might) He (to himſelfe a ſlave) would make Rome thrall, His benefits are loathſome in my ſight, And I am griev'd that he deſerves to fall; My fancies move not in ſo low a ſphere, But I diſdaine that one Romes Crowne requires; Yet it is beſt that with the time we beare, And with our pow'r proportion our deſires. Though firſt diſſembling, ſo your minde to try, I told what fame to Caeſars praiſe relates; Yet was I pleas'd, that moe were griev'd then I: "All miſcontented men are glad of Mates.