Goffe, Thomas · published 1633 · first performed or written 1617 [c.1613-c.1618] (Annals) tragedy · at University unassigned nearest T7 The Trojan war: conflict and its afterma · 475 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
Spoke like a queen, spoke like Aegisthus love, Now great Thyestes genius, which didst prompt Me to this act, come, be spectator now, And see revenge for Athens bloody feast. And thou wronged Clytaemnestra call to mind How his unsatiate, lustful, loathed desire Doted on every female face he saw, Raped the priest's daughter, and so brought a plague On all the Grecian host: yes, yes, Aegisthus, yes And raped young Briseis from Achilles' bed; Crowd all revengeful thoughts into this hour, Now let thy sword let out that lustful blood Wound him Aegisthus, kill him not at once, we'll be true Tyrants, let him feel he dies Help Clytaemnestra, help me my dear Queen. Yes dotard I will help thee, thus, yes thus: Remember the priest's daughter: this for her, And this for Briseis: see, my Grecians, see, Your King which you so gladly entertained: Sol hide thyself in everlasting night, Or when thou risest let thy blushing face, Make these to blush; ay, so, curse on, curse on: O Clytaemnestra, O my once dear wife, Is this the entertainment that thou giv'st; Thy new come husband, gratulat'st thou thus My ten years absence? see these frosty hairs Would even move Hecuba to pity me, Look on these aged arms which in this bed Thought to have been blessed with thy kind embrace, Yes, mine or Cassandra's, old adulterer? Kinsman Aegisthus; O my dearest wife Whom shall I call; methinks you both are mine, What Titius, what Megaera hath put on Aegisthus and my Clytemnestra's shapes? call'st thou us friends? O be not so, and I'll not call you so: Let not your coward weapons wound this head; That erst did scorn to shrink at Priam's blow. O hew me not down thus for my son's sake, Dear Clytaemnestra for Orestes sake. Is this the Trojan tale how I should tell! That here great Hector slew Antiochus, And here that Meontiades was slain, And poor Protesilaos' dear to Laodame: I thought to tell how these men lost their blood; And see my blood is thus let forth at home. Is your hot blood yet cold! breath dotard, do? You shall have gapes enough to let your soul Find a free passage to his deserved flames. No pity yet? O then, no pity light On you, nor yours; but let dire revenge Come learn how she may after handle you: O, I am drowned in blood, and now must yield To murderers weapons; treason wins the field; Alas this coming home hath had small joy, Argos hath worser foes than ever Troy. Now I am Clytaemnestra right, now I deserve To add one more to the three Furies, now Do I count this more than my nuptial night 'Tis mine, 'tis thine Aegisthus, and none else Shall share a minute of this right, but we.
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)
Spoke like a queene, spoke like Aegysteus loue, Now great Thyestes Genias, which didst prompt Mee to this act, come, be spectator now, And see reuenge for Athens bloody feast. And thou wrong'd Clytemnestra call to minde How his vnsatiate, lustfull, loath'd desire Doted on euery female face he saw, Rap't the Priests daughter, and so brought a plague On all the Grecian host: yes, yes, Aegysteus, ye And rap't yong Briseis from Achilles bed; Crowd all reuengefull thoughts into this houre, Now let thy sword let out that lustfull blood Wound him Aegisteus, kill him not at once, Wee'll be true Tyrants, let him feele he dies Helpe Clytemnestra, helpe me my deare Queene. Yes dotard I will helpe thee, thus, yes thus: Remember the Priests daughter: this for her, And this for Briseis: see, my Grecians, see, Your King which you so gladly entertain'd: Sol hide thy selfe in euerlasting night, Or when thou risest let thy blushing face, Make these to blush; I, so, curse on, curse on: O Clytemnestra, O my once deare wife, Is this the entertainment that thou giu'st; Thy new come husband, gratulat'st thou thus My ten yeers absence? see these frosty haires Would euen mooue Hecuba to pittie me, Looke on these aged armes which in this bed Thought to haue beene blessed with thy kinde imbrace, Yes, mine or Cassandra's, old adulterer? Kinsman Aegisteus; O my dearest wife Whom shall I call; me thinkes you both are mine, What Titius, what Megaera hath put on Aegysteus and my Clytemnestra's shapes? Calst thou vs friends? O be not so, and I'll not call you so: Let not your coward weapons wound this head; That earst did scorne to shrinke at Priams blow. O hew me not downe thus for my sonns sake, Deare Clytemnestra for Orestes sake. Is this the Troian tale how I should tell! That here great Hector slew Antiochus, And here that Meontiades was slaine, And poore Prothesilaus deare to Laodamie: I thought to tell how these men lost their blood; And see my blood is thus let forth at home. Is your hot blood yet cold! breath dotard, do? You shall haue gapes inough to let your soule Finde a free passage to his deserued flames. No pitty yet? O then, no pitty light On you, nor yours; but let dire reuenge Come learne how she may after handle you: O, I am drown'd in blood, and now must yeeld To murderers weapons; treason win's the field; Alas this comming home hath had small ioy, Argos hath worser foes then euer Troy. Now I am Clytemnestra right, now I deserue To adde one more to the three Furies, now Doe I count this more then my nuptiall night 'Tis mine, tis thine Egystheus, and none else Shall share a minute of this right, but we.