Gascoigne, George / Kinwelmershe, Francis / Yelverton, ChristopherEuripides / Dolce, Lodovico · published 1575 · first performed or written 1566 (Annals) tragedy T34 Thebes and royal catastrophe: siege, sla typicality 0.87 · 537 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T34: thebes, antigone, polynices, creon, eteocles, war, theban, gods, dear, country.
Now to the end this blind outrageous sire. Should reap no joy of his unnatural fruit, His wretched sons, pricked forth by furious spite, Adjudge their father to perpetual prison: There buried in the depth of dungeon dark, (Alas) he leads his discontented life, Accursing still his stony hearted sons, And wishing all th'infernal spirits of hell, To breath such poisoned hate into their breasts, As each with other fall to bloody wars, And so with pricking point of piercing blade, To rip their bowels out, that each of them With others blood might strain his guilty hands, And both at once by stroke of speedy death Be forthwith thrown into the Stygian lake. The mighty Gods prevent so fowl a deed, They to avoid the wicked blasphemies, And sinful prayer of their angry sire, Agreed thus, that of this noble realm, Until the course of one full year was run, Eteocles should sway the kingly mace, And Polynices as exul should depart, Till time expired: and then to Polynices Eteocles should yield the sceptre up: Thus year by year the one succeeding other, This royal crown should unto both remain. O th'unbridled minds of ambitious men. Etocles thus placed in princely seat, Drunk with the sugared taste of kingly reign, Not only shut his brother from the crown, But also from his native country soil. Alas poor Polynices, what might he do, Unjustly by his brother thus betrayed? To Argos he, with sad and heavy cheer Forthwith conveyed himself, on whom at length With fawning face good fortune smiled so, As with Adrastus' king of Argives there, He found such favour and affinity, As (to restore my son unto his reign,) He hath besiege this noble city Thebes, And hence proceeds my most extreme annoy: For, of my sons, who ever do prevail, The victory will turn unto my grief: Alas, I fear (such is the chance of war) That one, or both shall purchase death thereby. Wherefore, to shun the worst that may befall, Though comfortless, yet as a pitiful mother Whom nature binds to love her loving sons, And to provide the best for their avail, I have thought good by prayers to entreat The two brethren (nay rather cruel foes) A while to stay their fierce and furious fight, Till I have tried by means for to appease The swelling wrath of their outraging wills, And so with much to do, at my request They have forborn unto this only hour. Small space good wots, to stint so great a strife. And even right now, a trusty man of mine, Returned from the camp, informing me That Polynices will strait to Thebes come, Thus of my woe, this is the wailful sum. And for because, in vain and bootless plaint I have small need to spend this little time, Here will I cease, in words more to be wray The restless state of my afflicted mind, Desiring thee, thou go to Eteocles, Hartly on my behalf beseeching him, That out of hand according to his promise, He will vouchsafe to come unto my court, I know he loves thee well, and to thy words I think thou know'st he will give willing ear.
seed 43: T30 · seed 44: T33 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Now to the ende this blinde outrageous ſire. Should reape no ioye of his vnnaturall fruite, His wretched ſons, prickt foorth by furious ſpight, Adiudge their father to perpetuall priſon: There buried in the depthe of dungeon darke, (Alas) he leades his diſcontented life, Accurſing ſtill his ſtony harted ſonnes, And wiſhing all th'infernall ſprites of hell, To breathe ſuche poyſned hate into their breſtes, As eche with other fall to bloudy warres, And ſo with pricking poynt of piercing blade, To rippe their bowels out, that eche of them With others bloud might ſtrayne his giltie hands, And bothe at once by ſtroke of ſpéedie death Be foorthwith throwne into the Stigian lake. The mightie Gods preuent ſo fowle a déede, They to auoyde the wicked blaſphemies, And ſinfull prayer of their angrie ſire, Agréed thus, that of this noble realme, Vntill the courſe of one ful yere was runne, Eteocles ſhould ſway the kingly mace, And Polynice as exul ſhould departe, Till time expyrde: and then to Polynice Eteocles ſhould yéelde the ſcepter vp: Thus yere by yere the one ſuccéeding other, This royall crowne ſhould vnto bothe remayne. Oh thunbridled mindes of ambicious men. Etocles thus plaſt in princely ſeate, Drunke with the ſugred taſte of kingly raigne, Not onely ſhut his brother from the crowne, But alſo from his natiue country ſoyle. Alas poore Polynice, what might he doe, Vniuſtly by his brother thus betrayed? To Argos he, with ſad and heauie cheere Forthwith conuayde him ſelfe, on whom at length With fauning face good fortune ſmyled ſo, As with Adraſtus king of Argiues there, He founde ſuch fauour and affinitie, As (to reſtore my ſonne vnto his raigne,) He hath beſiedge this noble citie Thebes, And hence procéedes my moſt extreme annoye: For, of my ſonnes, who euer doe preuaile, The victorie will turne vnto my griefe: Alas, I feare (ſuch is the chaunce of warre) That one, or both ſhall purchaſe death therby. Wherfore, to ſhunne the worſt that may befall, Thoughe comfortleſſe, yet as a pitifull mother Whom nature binds to loue hir louing ſonnes, And to prouide the beſt for their auaile, I haue thought good by prayers to entreate The two brethren (nay rather cruel foes) A while to ſtaie their fierce and furious fight, Till I haue tried by meanes for to apeaſe The ſwelling wrath of their outraging willes, And ſo with much to doe, at my requeſt They haue forborne vnto this onely houre. Small ſpace good wot, to ſtint ſo great a ſtrife. And euen right now, a truſtie man of mine, Returned from the campe, enforming me That Polynice will ſtraight to Thebes come, Thus of my woe, this is the wailefull ſūme. And for bycauſe, in vaine and booteleſſe plainte I haue ſmall néede to ſpend this litle time, Here will I ceaſe, in wordes more to be wray The reſtleſſe ſtate of my afflicted minde, Deſiring thée, thou goe to Eteocles, Hartly on my behalfe beſeching him, That out of hand according to his promiſe, He will vouchſafe to come vnto my courte, I know he loues thée well, and to thy wordes I thinke thou knowſt he will giue willing eare.