Seneca, Lucius Annaeus / Newton, Thomas · published 1581 · first performed or written 1581 (Annals) tragedy T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm typicality 0.81 · 508 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
Or thou that till'st Boeotia ground, there reaping gain at will. Hark, listen well, and flatly say, if ever heretofore That murderous monster Sphinx of Thebes that men in pieces tore, In all his riddles asked the like, or of so strange a sort? Or whether so insolubly his terms he could report? The Son in Law to Grandfather, the Rival of his Sire: The Brother of his little Babes: to Brethren, father dire: The Grandmother at every birth to Husband (graceless Elf) Brought forth a Son or Daughter, which was Nephew to herself. How say you Sirs, in riddle dark, who hath so good insight, That able is the sense hereof t'unfold and tell aright? As for myself, although the Sphinx I whilom put to foil: Yet mine own heavy destiny I scarcely can assoil. Why dost thou (Daughter) labour loose in using further speech? To alter this my stony heart why dost thou me beseech? I tell thee plain. I fully mean this blood of mint to spill. That long with Death hath struggling kept: and thereupon I will Descend to dark infernal Lake: for this same darkness blind Of both mine eyes is nothing such, as fact of mine should find. It were my Bliss to be in Hell in deepest dungeon fast: Now that which should long since have been, I will perform at last. I cannot be debarred from Death: wilt thou deny me glaive Or Sword, or knife? wilt thou no tool for mischief let me have? Wilt thou both watch and ward each way, where danger lies in wait? Shall such a sinful Caitiff wretch as I, be keep so strait? Wilt thou not suffer me with cord to break my hateful Neck? Canst thou keep me from poisonous herbs? hast thou them all at beck? What shall it thee prevail to take for me such earnest care? Death each where is: and ways to death in thousand corners are. Herein hath God good order ta'en, that every selie Foe, May take away another's life, but Death he cannot so. I seek not any tool to have: this desperate mind of mine Can use the service of my hand, my thread of life t'untwine. Now hand, thy master at a pinch assist to work his feat, Help him with all thy power and strength, t'exploit his purpose great. I point thee not in this my Corpse unto one place alone: Alas, each part of me with guilt is plaunch and overgrown. In whichsoever part thou wilt, thy Massacre begin, And seek to bring me to my death which way thou mayst it win. In pieces crush this body all, this heart that harbours sin Pluck out, out all my entrails pull, proceed, and never lin To gash and cut my weazand pipe. My veins asunder scratch, And make the Blood come spouting out, or use that other match, Which heretofore thou used haste: dig where mine eyes erst stood: And let these wounds gush out apace much mattry filth and blood.
seed 43: T32 · seed 44: T26 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Or thou that till'ſt Baeotia ground, there reaping gayne at wil. Hearke, liſten well, and flatly ſay, if euer heretofore That murdrous monſter Sphinx of Thebes that men in peeces tore, In all his riddles aſkt the like, or of ſo ſtraunge a ſort? Or whether ſo inſolubly his termes he cold report? The Sonne in Lavv to Graundfather, the Riual of his Syre: The Brother of his litle Babes: to Brethren, father dire: The Graundmother at euery byrth to Huſband (graceles Elfe) Brought forth a Sonne or Daughter, vvhich vvas Nephevv to her ſelfe. How ſay you Syrs, in Ryddle darke, who hath ſo good inſight, That able is the ſenſe hereof t'vnfold and tell aryght? As for my ſelfe, although the Sphinx I whylome put to foyle: Yet myne owne heauy deſtenie I ſcarcely can aſſoyle. Why doſt thou (Daughter) labour looſe in vſyng further ſpeech? To alter this my ſtony hart why doſt thou mee beſeech? I tel thee playne. I fully meane this bloud of mynt to ſpill. That long with Death hath ſtruggling kept: and thereupon I will Deſcend to darke infernall Lake: for this ſame darknes blynd Of both myne eyes is nothing ſuch, as fact of myne ſhould fynd. It were my Bliſſe to bee in Hell in deepeſt dungeon faſt: Now that which ſhould long ſince haue bene, I wil perfourme at laſt. I cannot be debard from Death: wilt thou deny me glaue Or Sword, or knife? wilt thou no toole for miſchiefe let me haue? Wilt thou both watch and ward each way, where daūger lies in wayte? Shall ſuch a ſinful Caytife wretch as I, be kepe ſo ſtraite? Wilt thou not ſuffer me with Coard to breake my hatefull Necke? Canſt thou kepe mee from poyſonous herbes? haſt thou them al at beck? What ſhall it thee preuayle to take for mee ſuch earneſt care? Death ech where is: and wayes to death in thouſand corners are. Herein hath God good order tane, that euery felie Foe, May take away an others life, but Death hee cannot ſo. I ſeeke not anye toole to haue: this deſprate mynd of myne Can vſe the ſeruice of my hand, my threede of lyfe t'vntwine. Now hand, thy maiſter at a pinch aſſiſt to worke his feate, Helpe him with all thy power and ſtrength, t'exployt his purpoſe great. I poynt thee not in this my Corps vnto one place alone: Alas, each part of me with guilt is plaunch and ouergrowne. In which ſoeuer part thou wilt, thy Maſſacre beginne, And ſeeke to bring me to my death which way thou mayſt it winne. In pieces cruſh this body all, this hart that harbors ſinne Pluck out, out all my entrailes pull, proceede, and neuer linne To gaſh and cut my wezand pype. My vaynes aſender ſcratch, And make the Bloud come ſpowting out, or vſe that other match, Which heretofore thou vſed haſte: digge where myne eyes earſt ſtood: And let theſe woundes guſh out apace much mattry filth and blood.