Gascoigne, George / Kinwelmershe, Francis / Yelverton, ChristopherEuripides / Dolce, Lodovico · published 1575 · first performed or written 1566 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T34 Thebes and royal catastrophe: siege, sla · 514 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T34: thebes, antigone, polynices, creon, eteocles, war, theban, gods, dear, country.
Those elder heads may well be thought to err, The which for easy life and quiet days, The vulgar sort would seem for to prefer, If glorious Phoebe withhold his glistering rays, From such a peer as crown and sceptre sways, No marvel though he hide his heavenly face, From us that come of less renowned race. seld shall you see the ruin of a Prince, But that the people eke like brunt do bear, And old records of ancient time long since, From age to age, yea almost every where, With proof hereof hath glutted every ear: Thus by the follies of the prince's heart, The bounden subject still receiveth smart. Lo, how unbridled lust of private reign, Hath pricked both the brethren unto war: Yet Polynices, with sign of less disdain, Against this land hath brought from countries far, A foreign power, to end this cruel jar, Forgetting quite the duty, love, and zeal, He aught to bear unto this common weal. But whosoever gets the victory, We wretched dames, and thou O noble town, Shall feel thereof the woeful misery, Thy gorgeous pomp, thy glorious high renown, Thy stately towers, and all shall fall a down, Sigh raging Mars will each of them assist In other's breast to bathe his bloody fist. But thou O son of Semel, and of Ioue, (That tamed the proud attempt of giants strong) Do thou defend, even of thy tender love, Thy humble thralls from this afflicting wrong, Whom waist of war hath now tormented long: So shall we never fail ne day ne night With reverence due thy praises to recite. Lo here mine own city and native soil, Lo here the nest I aught to nestle in, Yet being thus entrenched with mine own towers, And that, from him the safeconduct is given Which doth enjoy as much as mine should be, My feet can tread no step without suspect: For where my brother bides, even there behoves Moore wary scout than in an enemies camp. Yet while I may wthin this right hand hold This bronde, this blade, (unyelden ever yet) My life shall not be left without revenge. But here behold the holy sanctuary, Of Bacchus eke the worthy Image, lo The altars where the sacred flames have shone, And where of yore these guiltless hands of mine Full often have offered to our mighty gods: I see also a worthy company Of Theban dames, resembling unto me The train of Iocasta my dear mother: Behold them clad in clothes of grisly black, That hellish hew that nay for other harms So well beseemed wretched wights to wear: For why, ere long their selves, themselves shall see (Gramercy to their prince's tyranny) Some spoiled of their sweet and sucking babes, Some lose their husband, other some their sire, And some their friends that were to them full dear. But now 'tis time to lay the sword aside. And eke of them to know where is the Queen: O worthy dames, heavy, unhappy ye, Where resteth now the restless queen of Thebes?
seed 43: T30 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Thoſe elder heades may well be thought to erre, The which for eaſie life and quiet dayes, The vulgar ſorte would ſéeme for to preferre, If glorious Phoebe with-holde his gliſtring rayes, From ſuch a péere as crowne and ſcepter ſwayes, No meruaile though he hide his heauenly face, From vs that come of leſſe renoumed race. Selde ſhall you ſée the ruine of a Prince, But that the people eke like brunt doe beare, And olde recordes of auncient time long ſince, From age to age, yea almoſt euerie where, With proofe herof hath glutted euery eare: Thus by the follies of the princes hart, The bounden ſubiect ſtill receiueth ſmart. Loe, how vnbrideled luſt of priuat raigne, Hath pricked both the brethren vnto warre: Yet Polynice, with ſigne of leſſe diſdaine, Againſt this lande hath brought from countries farre, A forraine power, to end this cruell iarre, Forgetting quite the dutie, loue, and zeale, He ought to beare vnto this common weale. But whoſoeuer gets the victorie, We wretched dames, and thou O noble towne, Shall féele therof the wofull miſerie, Thy gorgeous pompe, thy glorious high renoume, Thy ſtately towers, and all ſhal fall a downe, Sith raging Mars will eache of them aſſiſt In others breſt to bathe his bloudie fiſt. But thou O ſonne of Semel, and of Ioue, (That tamde the proude attempt of giaunts ſtrong) Doe thou defende, euen of thy tender loue, Thy humble thralls from this afflicting wrong, Whom waſt of warre hath now tormented long: So ſhall we neuer faile ne day ne night With reuerence due thy prayſes to reſight. LOe here mine owne citie and natiue ſoyle, Loe here the neſt I ought to neſtle in, Yet being thus entrencht with mine owne towres, And that, from him the ſafeconduct is giuen Which doth enioye as much as mine ſhould be, My féete can treade no ſtep without ſuſpect: For where my brother bides, euen there behoues More warie ſcout than in an enmies campe. Yet while I may wthin this right hand holde This bronde, this blade, (vnyeldē euer yet) My life ſhall not be lefte without reuenge. But here beholde the holy ſancturie, Of Baccus eke the worthie Image, loe The aultars where the ſacred flames haue ſhone, And where of yore theſe giltleſſe hands of mine Full oft haue offered to our mightie gods: I ſée alſo a worthie companie Of Thebane dames, reſembling vnto me The traine of Iocaſta my deare mother: Beholde them clad in clothes of grieſly blacke, That helliſhe hewe that nay for other harmes So well beſemed wretched wightes to weare: For why, ere long their ſelues, themſelues ſhall ſée (Gramercy to their princes tyrannie) Some ſpoyled of their ſwéete and ſucking babes, Some leſe their huſband, other ſome their ſire, And ſome their friends that were to them full dere. But now tis time to lay the ſworde aſide. And eke of them to knowe where is the Quéene: O woorthie dames, heauie, vnhappie ye, Where reſteth now the reſtleſſe quéene of Thebes?