Seneca, Lucius Annaeus / Newton, Thomas · published 1581 · first performed or written 1581 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 467 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Oh daughter, see and well behold how I to peace am bent? And how to end these garboils all I seem full well content? My mind (I tell thee) swells with ire: within my entrails boils Abundant store of Choler fell: such restless rage turmoils My inward Soul, that I must yet some greater matter brew: Which may the Realm enwrap in bale, and cause them all to rue. That which my rash and heady sons have hitherto begun Is nothing in respect of that which must by me be done. This civil war is nothing like to that which I devise: These trifling broils for such a Sea of harms cannot suffice. Let brother cut the brother's throat with murderous knife in hand: Yet is not this enough to purge the mischiefs of this lend. Some heinous Fact, unheard of yet, some detestable deed Must practised be: as is to me. and mine by Fates decreed. Such custom haunts our cursed race: such guise our house hath caught: My vice incestuous Bed requires, such pageants to be wrought. To me your Father Weapons reach, myself here let me shroud In covert of these queachy woods: and let me be allowed To lurk behind this Craggy Rock, or else myself to hide On backside of some thickset hedge: where lying unespied, I hearken may what market-folks in passing to and fro Do talk: and what the country Clowns speak, as by way they go. There (sith with eyes, I cannot see) with ears yet may I bear How cruelly my Sons by war do one the other tear. A fortunate and happy Dame Agave may be thought, Who (though with bloody hands) her son to fatal death she brought, And from the shoulders chopped his head, and bore the same about In bloody hand, at Bacchus' feast withau th'inspired rout Of sacrificers, quartering poor Pentheus mangled limbs: Though this her cruel fact, somewhat her commendation dims: Yet even in these her frantic fits she stayed herself in time From further harm, not adding more to aggravate her crime. My guilt were light, if I had not some others guilty made: And yet is this but matter light: I took a biler trade. For, Mother I am unto those that in all vice excel, And who in most abhorred sins condignly bear the bell. To all my woes and miseries there wanted only this, That I should love my countries foe, who Polynices is. Three snowy Winters passed are, and summers three be gone, Since be an exiled wretch abroad hath led his life in moan: And sought his bread among the fremmd: till now compelled perforce. He craves relief of Greekish Kings, on him to have remorse. He married hath the Daughter of Adrastus, who at beck
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)
Oh daughter, ſee and well beholde howe I to peace am bent? And how to end theſe garboyles all I ſeeme full well content? My minde (I tell thee) ſwelles with yre: within my entralles boyles Abundaunt ſtoare of Choller fell: ſuch reſtleſſe rage turmoyles My inward Soule, that I muſt yet ſome greater matter brew: Which may the Realme enwrap in bale, and cauſe them all to rue. That which my raſhe and heady ſonnes haue hitherto begon Is nothing in reſpect of that wich muſt by me be don. This ciuill warre is nothing like to that which I deuiſe: Theſe trifling broyles for ſuch a Sea of harmes cannot ſuffice. Let brother cut the brothers throate with murthrous knife in hand: Yet is not this ynough to purge the miſchieues of this lend. Some haynous Fact, vnheard of yet, ſome deteſtable deede Muſt practiſde hee: as is to mee. and myne by Fates decreed. Such cuſtome haunts our curſed race: ſuch guiſe our houſe hath caught: My viſe inceſtuous Bed requires, ſuch pageaunts to be wraught. To me your Father Weapons reach, my ſelfe heere et me ſhrowde In couert of theſe queachy wooddes: and let me be allowde To lurke behinde this Craggy Rocke, or els my ſelfe to hyde On backſide of ſome thickſet hedge: where lying vneſpide, I hearken may what marketfolkes in paſſing to and froe Do talke: and what the countrey Clownes ſpeake, as by way they goe. There (ſyth with eyes, I cannot ſee) with ear yet may I beare How cruelly my Sonnes by warre do one the other teare. A fortunate and happy Dame Agaue may be thought, Who (though with bloudy hands) her ſonne to fatell death ſhe brought, And from the ſhoulders chopt his head, and bore the ſame about In boudy hand, at Bacchus feaſt withau th'inſpired rout Of ſacrificers, quartering poore Pentheus mangled lymmes: Though this her cruell facte, ſomewhat her commendation dymmes: Yet euen in theſe her phrantick fits ſhee ſtayde her ſelfe in time From further harme, not adding more to aggrauate her crime. My guilt were light, if I had not ſome others guilty made: And yet is this but matter light: I tooke a biler trade. For, Mother I am vnto thoſe that in all vice excell, And who in moſt abhorred ſinnes condignely beare the bell. To all my woes and myſeries there wanted onely this, That I ſhould loue my Countreyes foe, who Polynices is. Three ſnowy Wynters paſſed are, and Sommers three be gone, Synce be an exilde wretch abroade hath lead his lyfe in moane: And ſought his bread among the fremmd: till now compell'de perforce. Hee craues reliefe of Greekiſh Kings, on him to haue remorſe. Hee maried hath the Daughter of Adraſtus, who at becke