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 · 499 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.
So hast thou reason Oedipus, to say, And for my part I would thee counsel eke, Still to maintain the high and haughty mind, That hath been ever in thy noble heart: For this be sure, if thou wouldst kiss these knees, And practise eke by prayer to prevail, No pity could persuade me to consent That thou remain one only hour in Thebes. And now, prepare you worthy Citizens, The funerals that duly do pertain Unto the Queen, and to Eteocles, And eke for them provide their stately tombs. But Polynices, as common enemy Unto his country, carry forth his corpse Out of the walls, ne none so hardy be On pain of death his body to engrave, But in the fields let him unburied lie, Without his honour, and without complaint, An open pray for savage beasts to spoil. And thou Antigone, dry up thy tears, Pluck up thy spirits, and cheer thy harmless heart To marriage: for ere these two days pass, Thou shalt espouse Haemon mine only heir. Father, I see us wrapped in endless woe, And now much more do I your state lament, Than these that now be dead, not that I think Their great mishaps too little to bewail, But this, that you (you only) do surpass All wretched wights that in this world remain. But you my Lord, why banish you with wrong My father thus out of his own perforce? And why will you deny these guiltless bones Of Polynices, their grave in country soil? So would not I, so would Eteocles. He cruel was, you fond to hold his hests. Is then a fault to do a king's command? When his command is cruel and unjust. Is it unjust that he unburied be? He not deserved so cruel punishment. He was his countries cruel enemy. Or else was he that held him from his right. Bore he not arms against his native land? Offendeth he that seeks to win his own? In spite of thee he shall unburied be. In spite of thee these hands shall bury him. And with him eke then will I bury thee. So grant the gods, I get none other grave, Then with my Polynices dear to rest. Go sirs, lay hold on her, and take her in. I will not leave this corpse unburied. Canst thou undo the thing that is decreed? A wicked foul decree to wrong the dead. The ground ne shall ne aught to cover him. Creon, yet I beseech thee for the love, Away I say, thy prayers not prevail. That thou didst bear Iocasta in her life, Thou dost but waste thy words amid the wind. Yet grant me leave to wash his wounded corpse. It can not be that I should grant thee so. O my dear Polynices, this tyrant yet With all his worongfull force can not fordo, But I will kiss these cold pale lips of thine, And wash thy wounds with my waymenting tears.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
So haſt thou reaſon Oedipus, to ſay, And for my parte I would thée counſell eke, Still to maynteine the high and hawtie minde, That hath bene euer in thy noble heart: For this be ſure, if thou wouldſt kiſſe theſe knées, And practiſe eke by prayer to preuayle, No pitie coulde perſuade me to conſent That thou remayne one onely houre in Thebes. And nowe, prepare you worthie Citizens, The funeralls that duely doe pertayne Vnto the Quéene, and to Eteocles, And eke for them prouide their ſtately tombes. But Pollynice, as common enimie Vnto his countrey, carrie foorth his corps Out of the walles, ne none ſo hardie be On peine of death his bodie to engraue, But in the fieldes let him vnburied lye, Without his honour, and without complaynte, An open praie for ſauage beaſtes to ſpoyle. And thou Antigone, drie vp thy teares, Plucke vp thy ſprites, and chéere thy harmeleſſe hearte To mariage: for ere theſe two dayes paſſe, Thou ſhalt eſpouſe Hemone myne onely heire. Father, I ſée vs wrapt in endleſſe woe, And nowe muche more doe I your ſtate lamente, Than theſe that nowe be dead, not that I thinke Theyr greate miſſehappes too little to bewayle, But this, that you (you onely) doe ſurpaſſe All wretched wightes that in this worlde remayne. But you my Lorde, why baniſhe you with wrong My father thus out of his owne perforce? And why will you denye theſe guiltleſſe bones Of Polinice, theyr graue in countrey ſoyle? So would not I, ſo woulde Eteocles. He cruel was, you fonde to hold his heſtes. Is then a fault to doe a kings cōmaund? When his cōmaunde is cruell and vniuſt. Is it vniuſt that he vnburied be? He not deſeru'd ſo cruel puniſhment. He was his countreys cruell enimie. Or elſe was he that helde him from his right. Bare he not armes againſt his natiue land? Offendeth he that ſekes to winne his owne? In ſpite of thée he ſhall vnburied be. In ſpite of thée theſe hands ſhall burie him. And with him eke then will I burie thée. So graunt the gods, I get none other graue, Then with my Polinices deare to reſt. Go ſirs, lay holde on hir, and take hir in. I will not leaue this corps vnburied. Canſt thou vndoe the thing that is decréed? A wicked foule decrée to wrong the dead. The ground ne ſhall ne ought to couer him. Creon, yet I beſeche thée for the loue, Away I ſay, thy prayers not preuaile. That thou didſt beare Iocaſta in hir life, Thou doſt but waſte thy words amid the wind. Yet graunt me leaue to waſhe his wounded corps. It can not be that I ſhould graunt thée ſo. O my deare Polinice, this tirant yet With all his worongfull force can not fordoe, But I will kiſſe theſe colde pale lippes of thine, And waſhe thy wounds with my waymenting teares.