Gascoigne, George / Kinwelmershe, Francis / Yelverton, ChristopherEuripides / Dolce, Lodovico · published 1575 · first performed or written 1566 (Annals) tragedy T24 Apollo, Phoebus and the Muses typicality 0.80 · 481 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T24: apollo, phoebus, midas, muses, ears, play, hedone, gods, siren, time.
Now comes Apollo's oracle to pass, That I in Athens town should end my days: And since thou dost, O daughter mine, desire In this exile to be my woeful mate, Lend me thy hand, and let us go together. Lo, here all priest my dear beloved father, A feeble guide, and eke a simple scout, To pass the perils in a doubtful way. Unto the wretched, be a wretched guide. In this all only equal to my father. And where shall I set forth my trembling feet? O reach me yet some surer staff, to stay My staggering pace amid these ways unknown. Here father here, and here set forth your feet. Now can I blame none other for my harms But secret spite of foredecreed fate, Thou art the cause, that crooked, old and blind, I am exiled far from my country soil, And suffer dole that I aught not endure. O father, father, justice lies on sleep, Ne doth regard the wrongs of wretchedness, Ne princes swelling pride it doth redress. O careful raytife, how am I now changed From that I was? I am that Oedipus, That whilom had triumphant victory, And was both dread and honoured eke in Thebes: But now (so pleaseth you my froward stars) Down headlong hurled in depth of misery, So that remains of Oedipus no more As now in me, but even the naked name, And lo, this image, that resembles more Shadows of death, than shape of Oedipus. O father, now forget the pleasant days And happy life that you did whilom lead, The muse whereof redoubleth but you grief: Sustain the smart of these your present pains With patience, that best may you preserve. Lo where I come, to live and die with you, Not (as sometimes) the daughter of a king, But as an abject now in poverty, That you, by presence of such faithful guide, May better bear the wreck of misery. O only comfort of my cruel hap. Your daughter's pity is but due to you? Would God I might as well engrave the corpse Of my dear Polynices, but I ne may, And that I can not, doubleth all my do●e. This thy desire, that is both good and just, Impart to some that be thy trusty friends, Who moved with pity, may procure the same. Believe me father, when dame fortune frowns, Be few that find trusty companions. And of those few, yet one of those am I: Wherefore, go we now daughter, lead the way Into the stony rocks and highest hills, Where fewest tracks of step may be spied. Who once hath sit in chair of dignity, May shame to show himself in misery. From thee, O country, am I forced to part, Despoiled thus in flower of my youth, And yet I leave within my enemies rule, Ismene my infortunate sister.
Gascoigne, George / Kinwelmershe, Francis / Yelverton, ChristopherEuripides / Dolce, Lodovico
Publication year (edition)
1575
First performance / composition (Annals)
1566
First performance (BritDrama)
1566 [1566-1567]
Genre (British Drama)
tragedy
Play type
Translation;Nonprofessional;University/Inns of Court
Edition / TCP / DEEP
edition 107 · TCP A01514 · DEEP 5007.03
Edition role
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 2671–2732 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 43 of 68 in this edition
Length
481 words · 641 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T24 — Apollo, Phoebus and the Musescross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.804 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T29 · seed 44: T27 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Nowe commes Apollos oracle to paſſe, That I in Athens towne ſhould end my dayes: And ſince thou doeſt, O daughter myne, deſire In this exile to be my wofull mate, Lende mée thy hande, and let vs goe togither. Loe, here all preſt my deare beloued father, A féeble guyde, and eke a ſimple ſcowte, To paſſe the perills in a doubtfull waye. Vnto the wretched, be a wretched guyde. In this all onely equall to my father. And where ſhall I ſette foorth my trembling féete? O reache mée yet ſome ſurer ſtaffe, to ſteye My ſtaggryng pace amidde theſe wayes vnknowne. Here father here, and here ſet forth your féete. Nowe can I blame none other for my harmes But ſecrete ſpight of foredecréed fate, Thou arte the cauſe, that crooked, olde and blynde, I am exilde farre from my countrey ſoyle, And ſuffer dole that I ought not endure. O father, father, Iuſtice lyes on ſléepe, "Ne doth regarde the wrongs of wretchedneſſe, "Ne princes ſwelling pryde it doth redreſſe. O carefull raytife, howe am I nowe changd From that I was? I am that Oedipus, That whylome had triumphant victorie, And was bothe dread and honored eke in Thebes: But nowe (ſo pleaſeth you my frowarde ſtarres) Downe headlong hurlde in depth of myſerie, So that remaynes of Oedipus no more As nowe in mée, but euen the naked name, And lo, this image, that reſembles more Shadowes of death, than ſhape of Oedipus. O father, nowe forgette the pleaſaunt dayes And happie lyfe that you did whylom leade, The muſe whereof redoubleth but you griefe: Suſteyne the ſmarte of theſe your preſent paynes With pacience, that beſt may you preſerue. Lo where I come, to liue and die with you, Not (as ſometymes) the daughter of a king, But as an abiect nowe in pouertie, That you, by preſence of ſuche faithfull guide, May better beare the wrecke of miſerie. O onely comforte of my cruell happe. Your daughters pitie is but due to you? Woulde God I might as well ingraue the corps Of my deare Pollinice, but I ne maye, And that I can not, doubleth all my doe. This thy deſire, that is both good and iuſte, Imparte to ſome that be thy truſtie frendes, Who movde with pitie, maye procure the ſame. Beléeue me father, when dame fortune frownes, "Be fewe that fynde truſtie companions. And of thoſe fewe, yet one of thoſe am I: Wherefore, goe we nowe daughter, leade the waye Into the ſtonie rockes and higheſt hilles, Where feweſt trackes of ſteppings may be ſpyde. "Who once hath ſit in chaire of dignitie, "May ſhame to ſhewe himſelf in miſerie. From thée, O countrey, am I forſt to parte, Deſpoiled thus in flower of my youth, And yet I leaue within my enimies rule, Iſmene my infortunate ſiſter.