Alexander, William · published 1637 · first performed or written 1607 (Annals) tragedy T2 Roman politics: senate, consuls and civi typicality 0.76 · 518 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.
Though Caesar (now) I must conspire thy fall, My heart to thee yet never harboured hate; But (pardon me) who ever make it thrall, From bondage Brutus must redeem the state. Of this my course what ever others judge, Here, I protest it is for good designed; My thoughts are guilty of no private grudge, For, reason and not fury moves my mind; Nor doth ambition now inflame my breast, With a prodigious appetite to reign, That when I have made Caesar Pluto's guest, I in his room a Monarch may remain: No, if that glory did my fancy's charm, To which (blindfolded) tyrants do aspire, I needed not to do, nor suffer harm, But with less pain might compass my desire: For, if I would but temporize a space, Till time or death diminish Caesar's might, He thinks that I deserve to have his place, And I could make my day succeed his night; Yet do I not for glory seek so much As to attain it by my Country's shame: But, O! I would (my zeal to it is such) That it may scape, incur a kind of blame. Yea, so that I may free with honoured wounds My soil that's dearer than my soul to me, I could myself live banished from that bounds, Which at so dear a rate I would set free. What man doth breath of Mars his martial race, But will with Brutus sacrifice his blood, And (charged with Arms) ere tyranny take place, Dare venture all things for his Country's good, Can any judgement be deceived so far, But it already clearly may behold, How that this change Rome's greatness soon will mar, And raze the Trophies which she reared of old. Of old in Rome, all those who once had worn The peace-importing gown, or warlike shield, (Of dignities as capable all borne,) Durst aim at aught that liberty could yield; Those in affairs to deal, who would set forth; Were not discouraged by their birth, though base; And poverty could not hold back true worth, From having honour both by war and peace: Then emulation violently drived All gallant minds to tempt great actions still; In virtue's love, who friendly rivals lived, Whilst in their bosoms Glory balm did still: Fabricius first was from the Blow advanced, The Rudder of the Commonweal to hold, Yet by no means his private wealth enhanced, As rich in virtue still, as poor in gold. Rude Marius too, to match red Mars in fame, Forth from the vulgar dross his race removed, And lo, of Cicero the ridiculous name, As famous as the Fabians now hath proved. Each abject mind disdained to be obscure, When still preferment followed lofty cares, And that one might by dangers past, procure Fame for himself, and honour to his heirs: But since that state by Caesar is o'erturned, Whilst all our lives upon one's lips depend, Of breasts which once with love of glory burned, The soaring thoughts this wholly doth disbend; Advancement now doth not attend desert, But flows from fancies of a flatt'red mind;
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 1175–1240 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 19 of 50 in this edition
Length
518 words · 673 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T2 — Roman politics: senate, consuls and civil warcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.762 (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)
Though Caeſar (now) I muſt conſpire thy fall, My heart to thee yet never harbour'd hate; But (pardon me) who ever make it thrall, From bondage Brutus muſt redeeme the ſtate. Of this my courſe what ever others judge, Here, I proteſt it is for good deſign'd; My thoughts are guilty of no private grudge, For, reaſon and not fury moves my minde; Nor doth ambition now enflame my breſt, With a prodigious appetite to raigne, That when I have made Caeſar Pluto's gueſt, I in his roome a Monarch may remaine: No, if that glory did my fancies charme, To which (blind-folded) tyrants doe aſpire, I needed not to doe, nor ſuffer harme, But with leſſe paine might compaſſe my deſire: For, if I would but temporize a ſpace, Till time or death diminiſh Caeſars might, He thinkes that I deſerve to have his place, And I could make my day ſucceed his night; Yet doe I not for glory ſeeke ſo much As to attaine it by my Countries ſhame: But, O! I would (my zeale to it is ſuch) That it may ſcape, incurre a kinde of blame. Yea, ſo that I may free with honour'd wounds My ſoile that's dearer then my ſoule to me, I could my ſelfe live baniſh'd from that bounds, Which at ſo deare a rate I would ſet free. What man doth breath of Mars his martiall race, But will with Brutus ſacrifize his bloud, And (charg'd with Armes) ere tyranny take place, Dare venture all things for his Countries good, Can any judgement be deceiv'd ſo farre, But it already clearely may behold, How that this change Romes greatneſſe ſoon will marre, And raze the Trophees which ſhe rear'd of old. Of old in Rome, all thoſe who once had worne The peace-importing gowne, or war-like ſhield, (Of dignities as capable all borne,) Durſt ayme at ought that liberty could yeeld; Thoſe in affaires to deale, who would ſet forth; Were not diſcourag'd by their birth, though baſe; And poverty could not hold backe true worth, From having honour both by warre and peace: Then emulation violently driv'd All gallant mindes to tempt great actions ſtill; In vertues love, who friendly rivals liv'd, Whilſt in their boſomes Glory balme did ſtill: Fabricius firſt was from the Plow advanc'd, The Rudder of the Common-weale to hold, Yet by no meanes his private wealth enhanc'd, As rich in vertue ſtill, as poore in gold. Rude Marius too, to match red Mars in fame, Forth from the vulgar droſſe his race remov'd, And loe, of Cicero the ridiculous name, As famous as the Fabians now hath prov'd. Each abject minde diſdain'd to be obſcure, When ſtill preferment follow'd lofty cares, And that one might by dangers paſt, procure Fame for himſelfe, and honour to his heires: But ſince that ſtate by Caeſar is o're-turn'd, Whilſt all our lives upon ones lippes depend, Of breſts which once with love of glory burn'd, The ſoaring thoughts this wholly doth disbend; Advancement now doth not attend deſert, But flowes from fancies of a flatt'red minde;