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 0.78 · 484 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.
Yet tell me what behoves the city do? Thou Creon seemest now desirous still It to preserve: but if as well as I Thou knewest that which is to thee unknown, Then wouldst thou not so soon consent thereto. And would not I with eager mind desire The thing that may for Thebes aught avail? And dost thou then so instantly request To know which way thou mayest the same preserve? For nothing else I sent my son of late To seek for thee. Then will I satisfy Thy greedy mind in this: but first tell me, Menetius where is he? Not far from me. I pray thee send him out some other where. Why wouldst thou that he should not be here? I would not have him hear what I should say. He is my son, ne will he it reveal. And shall I then while he is present speak? Yea, be thou sure that he no less than I, Doth wish full well unto this common weal. Then Creon shalt thou know: the mean to save This City, is, that thou shalt slay thy son, And of his body make a sacrifice For his country: lo here is all you seek So much to know, and since you have me forced To tell the thing that I would not have told, If I have you offended with my words, Blame then yourself, and eke your froward fate. O cruel words, o, o, what hast thou said, Thou cruel soothsayer? Even that, that heaven Hath ordained once, and needs it must ensue. How many evils hast thou knit up in one? Though evil for thee, yet for thy country good. And let my country perish, what care I? Above all things we aught to hold it dear. Cruel were he, that would not love his child. For common weal, were well, that one man wail. To lose mine own, I list none other save. Best Citizens care lest for private gain. Departed, for now, with all thy prophecies. Lo, thus the truth doth always hatred get. Yet pray I thee by these thy silver hears, The harm that comes from heaven can not be scaped. And by thy holy spirit of prophecy, What heaven hath done, that cannot I undo. That to no more this secret thou reveal. And wouldst thou have me learn to make a lie? I pray thee hold thy peace. That will I not: But in thy woe to yield thee some relief, I tell thee once, thou shalt be Lord of Thebes, Which hap of thine this string did well declare, Which from the heart doth out alonely grow. So did the piece corrupted plainly show, An argument most evident to prove Thy son his death. Well, yet be thou content To keep full close this secret hidden grief. I neither aught, ne will keep it so close.
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)
Yet tell me what behoues the citie doe? Thou Creon ſéemeſt now deſirous ſtill It to preſerue: but if as well as I Thou kneweſt that which is to thée vnknowne, Then wouldſt thou not ſo ſoone conſent thereto. And would not I with eagre minde deſire The thing that may for Thebes ought auayle? And doſt thou then ſo inſtantly requeſt To know which way thou mayeſt the ſame preſerue? For nothing elſe I ſent my ſonne of late To ſéeke for thée. Then will I ſatiſfie Thy gréedie minde in this: but firſt tell me, Menetius where is he? Not farre from me. I pray thée ſende him out ſome other where. Why wouldeſt thou that he ſhould not be here? I would not haue him heare what I ſhould ſay. He is my ſonne, ne will he it reueale. And ſhall I then while he is preſent ſpeake? Yea, be thou ſure that he no leſſe than I, Doth wiſhe full well vnto this common weale. Then Creon ſhalt thou knowe: the meane to ſaue This Citie, is, that thou ſhalt flea thy ſonne, And of his bodie make a ſacrifice For his countrey: lo héere is all you ſéeke So much to knowe, and ſince you haue me forſt To tell the thing that I would not haue tolde, If I haue you offended with my words, Blame then your ſelfe, and eke your frowarde fate. Oh cruel words, oh, oh, what haſt thou ſayde, Thou cruell ſothſayer? Euen that, that heauen Hath ordeined once, and néedes it muſt enſue. How many euils haſt thou knit vp in one? Though euill for thée, yet for thy countrey good. And let my countrey periſhe, what care I? Aboue all things we ought to holde it deare. Cruell were he, that would not loue his childe. For cōmō weale, were well, that one man waile. To looſe mine owne, I liſte none other ſaue. Beſt Citizens care leaſt for priuat gayne. Depart, for nowe, with all thy prophecies. Lo, thus the truth doth alwayes hatred get. Yet pray I thée by theſe thy ſiluer heares, The harme that cōmes from heauen can not be ſcapt. And by thy holy ſpirite of prophecie, What heauen hath done, that cannot I vndoe. That to no moe this ſecrete thou reueale. And wouldſt thou haue me learne to make a lye? I pray thée hold thy peace. That will I not: But in thy woe to yéelde thée ſome reliefe, I tell thée once, thou ſhalt be Lorde of Thebes, Which happe of thine this ſtring did well declare, Which from the heart doth out alonely growe. So did the péece corrupted playnly ſhewe, An argument moſt euident to proue Thy ſonne his death. Well, yet be thou content To kéepe full cloſe this ſecrete hidden griefe. I neither ought, ne will kéepe it ſo cloſe.