Goffe, Thomas · published 1633 · first performed or written 1617 [c.1613-c.1618] (Annals) tragedy · at University T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm typicality 0.85 · 492 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
methinks I now go equal with the stars And my proud head toucheth the highest pole, Hark, Hell applauds me, and methinks I hear Thyestes tell me I have done enough: And now I kiss my hands, whilst yet they bear This tincture on them, and embrace my Queen, Now made my love; let's in, this night the Fates Have amply fed us with revengeful cates. WHat horrid dreams affright me? I see nought That I should fear, and yet methinks I fear. Mine eyes scarce closed, my busy fancy saw A sight that dashed all comforts of the day: methought my Father lying in his tent, Hateful Achilles for his wronged love Comes in with Briseis, and they two let forth Streams of fresh blood from out his aged side, With that his Echoed shriek did make me wake; But I remembered than he was come home, And yet I'll see him, still methinks I quake, Do I still dream? are not mine eyes unclosed? Is this a torch? yes, 'tis, it burns, I see I am awake, do not delude me night! Now stand on tiptoes Atlas', lift heaven higher, I may have air enough to breathe my woes, O let me yet recall thy posting soul If Charon have not hurried thee too fast If yet thou hast not drunk on Lethe's pool, Come back, and tell me who it is this night, Hath done this deed far blacker than the night? Ha! art thou fled past call? why thou wert old methinks thou shouldst not haste so fast away: Was it for this thou sweat'st so oft in Arms! Was it for this that the froth swelling foam When thy ship's top touched Heaven, and deep placed hell, That thou must yet escape curled Neptune's waves To be a Palinurus in thy shore There drown thy aged locks in crimson gore. O if one spark yet of thy Princely Soul Remain within this trunk, now let it shine And light my ignorant eyes to read the names Of these night vultures, whose devouring bills Have made a Titius of thy royal corpse: Who did not fear great Agamemnon's sleep? Arm, arm yourselves all you, all potent Gods You which we term Just ministers of Heaven, Shoot forked lightning from the marble pole Let the all-seeing eye of heaven shoot flames Which may parch up the marrow from their bones Should they lie couched i'th' breast a'th' Thunderer, Or be entrenched with guards of Furies, Heaven, earth, nor hell should keep them from my sword Dost thou sleep Ioue? O couldst thou snore so fast, And let thy great vicegerent thus be torn? Some of th'immortal powers have had fathers, And know what 'tis to have them murdered thus. But I turn woman now, O I rave out My passions; do grief, pour out thyself, That thou mayst make room in my empty heart To fill it with revenge.
seed 43: T32 · seed 44: T26 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Me thinks I now goe equall with the starres And my proud head toucheth the highest pole, Harke, Hell applauds me, and me thinkes I heare Thyestes tell me I haue done enough: And now I kisse my hands, whilst yet they beare This tincture on them, and embrace my Queene, Now made my loue; lets in, this night the Fates Haue amply fed vs with reuengefull cates. WHat horrid dreams affright me? I see naught That I should feare, and yet me thinks I feare. Mine eyes scarce clos'd, my busie fancy saw A sight that dasht all comforts of the day: Me thought my Father lying in his tent, Hatefull Achilles for his wronged loue Comes in with Briseis, and they two let forth Streames of fresh blood from out his aged side, With that his Eccho'd schrieke did make me wake; But I remembred then he was come home, And yet I'll see him, still me thinks I quake, Doe I still dreame? are not mine eyes vnclos'd? Is this a torch? yes, 'tis, it burnes, I see I am awake, doe not delude me night! Now stand on tiptoes Atlas, lift heauen higher, I may haue ayre inough to breath my woes, O let me yet recall thy posting soule If Charon haue not hurried thee too fast If yet thou hast not drunk on lethes poole, Come backe, and tell mee who it is this night, Hath don this deed farre blacker then the night? Ha! art thou fled past call? why thou wert old Me thinkes thou shouldst not haste so fast away: Was it for this thou swe'rst so oft in Armes! Was it for this that the froth swelling foame When thy ships top toucht Heauen, and deepe plac'd hell, That thou must yet escape curl'd Neptune's waues To be a Palinurus in thy shoare There drowne thy aged locks in crimson goare. O if one sparke yet of thy Princely Soule Remaine within this trunke, now let it shine And light my ignorant eyes to reade the names Of these night vultures, whose deuouring bills Haue made a Titius of thy royall corps: Who did not feare great Agamemnons sleepe? Arme, arme your selues all you, all potent Gods You which we terme Iust ministers of Heauen, Shoote forked lightning from the marble poale Let the all-seeing eye of heauen shoote flames Which may parch vp the marrow from their bones Should they lye coucht i'th brest a'th Thunderer, Or be entrencht with guards of Furies, Heauen, earth, nor hell should keepe them from my sword Dost thou sleepe Ioue? O couldst thou snore so fast, And let thy great vicegerent thus be torne? Some of th'immortall powers haue had fathers, And know what'tis to haue them murdered thus. But I turne woman now, O I raue out My passions; doe griefe, poure out thy selfe, That thou mayst make roome in my empty heart To fill it with reuenge.