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 · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
PRotect us O ye Ministers of Heaven, Stand near me my good Genius, my soul hath lost His humane function, at this hellish sight. Who is't disturbs our cave, what messenger Hath Pluto sent, that would know aught from us, What are you, speak, Canidia cannot stay. Prompt us some Ghost, Great fear of earth, and governess of nature, In whose deep closet of that sacred heart Are written the characters of future Fate; And what is done, or what must be thou know'st: Whose words make burning Acheron grow cold, And Ioue leave thundering, when he hears thy name, To thee we come: O turn thy secret book, And look whose names thou there shalt see inscribed For murderers, read o'er all the catalogue, Until thou findest there, engraven those Which killed the King of Greece, great Agamemnon. Yes, he that did owe these bones which worms have eat; It is not now one of the meaner sort That craves this boon, but 'tis the heir of Greece, Heir only now but to my Father's grave; I not command, but my astonished soul Entreats to know. If in thy book it be not yet put down, Command the Gods to unlock the gates of Heaven; And fetch forth death, command him to relate Who 'twas put Agamemnon in his hands, This is our business, this, great prophetess, Made us approach to thy most hallowed cell. Ho, ho, ho, I tell thee fond young Prince! A lesser power thou mightst have implored, Which might have urged th'unwilling fiends to this: Our dire enchantments carry such a force, That when the stars, and influence of heaven, Have sucked the lively blood from out men's veins, I at my pleasure bring it back again; I knew each hour in the Trojan fight, What Grecian, or what Phrygian should die, And fierce Achilles had no sooner pierced Great Hector's side, but fate did send me word: Earth, Sea, deep Chaos, all the stony hills, Will ope themselves to show me prodigies; Night will unmask her brow, to let me see What black conceptions teem within her womb. O then relate great Mistress of thy Art, The things we crave: What time of night is't? Upon the stroke of twelve. strait when a cloudy Even clappeth the Air, And all light's drenched in misty Acheron, When the black palpherys of the full cheeked moon, Have got behind this part a'th' Hemisphere, And dark Aldebor, and is mounted high Into the fable Cassiopeia's chair, And night full mounted in her seat of jet, Sits wrapped within a cabinet of clouds, When serpents leave to hiss, no dragons yell, No birds do sing, no harsh tuned toads do croak, The Armenian Tiger, and the ravenous wolf, Shall yield up all their tyranny to sleep, And then none walk but hell's disturbed spirits, Children of night, such as belong to me, I'll show thee thy desire; give me these bones.
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)
PRotect vs O ye Ministers of Heauen, Stand neare me my good Genius, my soule hath lost His humane function, at this hellish sight. Who is't disturbs our caue, what messenger Hath Pluto sent, that would know ought from vs, What are you, speake, Canidia cannot stay. Prompt vs some Ghost, Great feare of earth, and gouernesse of nature, In whose deepe closet of that sacred heart Are written the characters of future Fate; And what is done, or what must be thou knowst: Whose words make burning Acheron grow cold, And Ioue leaue thundring, when he heares thy name, To thee we come: O turne thy secret booke, And looke whose names thou there shalt see inscrib'd For murderers, reade or'e all the catalogue, Vntill thou findest there, engrauen those Which kild the King of Greece, great Agamemnon. Yes, he that did owe these bones which worms haue eate; It is not now one of the meaner sort That craues this boone, but 'tis the heire of Greece, Heire onely now but to my Fathers graue; I not command, but my astonisht soule Entreats to know. If in thy booke it be not yet put downe, Command the Gods to vnlocke the gates of Heauen; And fetch forth death, command him to relate Who 'twas put Agamemnon in his hands, This is our businesse, this, great prophetesse, Made vs approach to thy most hallowed cell. Ho, ho, ho, I tell thee fond young Prince! A lesser power thou mightst haue implor'd, Which might haue vrg'd th'vnwilling fiends to this: Our dire enchantments carry such a force, That when the stars, and influence of heauen, Haue suckt the liuely bloud from out mens veyns, I at my pleasure bring it backe againe; I knew each houre in the Troian fight, What Grecian, or what Phrygian should die, And fierce Achilles had no sooner pierc't Great Hectors side, but fate did send me word: Earth, Sea, deepe Chaos, all the stony hills, Will ope themselues to shew me prodigies; Night will vnmaske her brow, to let me see What blacke conceptions teeme within her wombe. O then relate great Mistresse of thy Art, The things we craue: What time of night is't? Vpon the stroke of twelue. Straite when a cloudy Euen clappeth the Ayre, And all light's drench't in misty Acheron, When the blacke palpherys of the full cheektmoone, Haue got behinde this parta'th Hemispheare, And darke Aldebor, and is mounted high Into the fable Cassiopeias chaire, And night ful mounted in her seat of iet, Sits wrapt within a cabinet of clouds, When serpents leaue to hisse, no dragons yell, No birds doe sing, no harsh tun'd toads doe croake, The Armenian Tyger, and the rauenous woolfe, Shall yeeld vp all their tyranny to sleepe, And then none walke but hells disturbed spirits, Children of night, such as belong to me, I'll shew thee thy desire; giue me these bones.