Hippolytus (Seneca's Fourth Tragedy) · chunk 3 of 30
Seneca, Lucius Annaeus / Studley, John · published 1581 · first performed or written 1567 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm · 476 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
No silent night, nor slumber deep can set my heart at rest. My sorrow still is nourished, and still entreaseth it, And rankles in my boiling breast, as out of Aetna's pit. The stifling vapour upward sties and Pallas Web, it stands At rest, my dropping distaff down doth drop between my hands. My luskish mind it hath no lust my vowed gifts to pay Unto the Temples of the Gods that live my Theseus may: Nor rigging with Th'athenian Dames among the altars proud To toss the fiery brands, unto the sacrifice aloud, Nor yet devoutly praying at the Aares with godly guise To Pallas precedent in earth to offer sacrifice: It doth delight me to pursue the chased beasts in flight, And toss my flashing Faucon fierce with nimble hand full light. What ails thou mind this mad to take conceit in freight and fell? My wretched mother's fatal vice a breeding now I smell: To cloak our crime, our lust doth know, woods are the fittest place, Alas good Mother, I lament the heavy luckless case: Thou rash attaint with loathsome lust enamoured is thy breast. even with the cruel head of all the herd of savage beast, That churlish angry roaring Bull no yoke can be sustain. And he among the wild, and eke untamed Neat doth reign. Yet was inclined to love: what God can grant me my desire? Or Dedalus with curious craft can ease my flaming fire? Not if he might return, whom Ariadne hath instruct From crooked compassed Labyrinth by thread that out he plucked Among the lurking corners close, and wily winding way, To grope his footing back again, and did deprive of day Our monstrous Minotaur enclosed in Maze and Dungeon blind: Although he promise to our sore, no salve yet can he find: Through me Apollo's Progeny doth Venus quite again, The filthy shame that she and Mars together did sustain. Whom Phoebus taking at their task all naked in the Sky, Hung up in Nets, a laughing stock to every gazing Eye: For this all Phoebus stock, with vile and foul reproach she stains, In some of Minos' family still loathsome lusting reins: One mischief brings another in. O Theseus' wife, and Child Of Ioue, let vice be soon out of thine honest breast exiled: And quench the raging heat: to dire despair do not up yield, Who at the first repulseth love, is safe and wins the field, Who doth by flattering fancy fond feed on his vicious vain, To late doth grudge against the yoke which erst he did sustain: Nor yet do I forget how hard, and void of reason clean: A PRINCE's stately stomach yields unto the golden mean: That end I will accept, whereto by Fortune I can lead The neighbours weal great comfort brings unto the hoary head.
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)
No ſilent night, nor ſlumber deepe can ſet my heart at reſt. My ſorrow ſtill is nouriſhed, and ſtill entreaſeth it, And rankleſſe in my boyling breaſt, as out of Aetnaes pit. The ſtifling vapour vpward ſties and Pallas Web, it ſtandes At reſt, my dropping diſtaffe downe doth drop betweene my handes. My luſkiſh minde it hath no luſt my vowed gifts to pay Vnto the Temples of the Gods that liue my Theſeus may: Nor rigging with Th'athenian Dames among the aulters proude To toſſe the fiery brands, vnto the ſacrifice aloude, Nor yet deuoutly praying at the Aares with godly guiſe To Pallas preſident in earth to offer ſacrifice: It doth delight me to purſue the chaſed beaſts in flight, And toſſe my flaſhing Faucon fierce with nimble hand full light. What ayles thou minde this mad to take conceypte in freight and fell? My wretched mothers fatall vice a breeding now I ſmell: To cloake our crime, our luſt doth knowe, woods are the fitteſt place, Alas good Mother, I lament the heauy luckleſſe caſe: Thou raſhe attaint with lothſome luſt enamored is thy breaſt. Euen with the cruell head of al the herd of ſaluage beaſt, That churliſh angry roaring Bull no yoake can bee ſuſtayne. And hee among the wilde, and eke vntamed Neat doth raygne. Yet was enclinde to loue: what God can graunt mee my deſire? Or Dedalus with curious craft can eaſe my flaming fire? Not if hee might returne, whom Ariadne hath iuſtruct From crooked compaſt Laberinth by thred that out hee pluckt Among the lurcking corners cloſe, and wily winding way, To grope his footing backe agayne, and did depriue of day Our monſtrous Minotaur encloſde in Maze and Dungeon blinde: Although hee promiſe to our ſore, no ſalue yet can hee finde: Through mee Apollos Progeny doth Venus quite agayne▪ The filthy ſhame that ſhee and Mars together did ſuſtayne. Whom Phoebus taking at their taſke all naked in the Skie, Hung vp in Nets, a laughing ſtocke to euery gaſing Eye: For this all Phoebus ſtocke, with vile and foule reproche ſhe ſtaynes, In ſome of Minos family ſtill lothſome luſting raygnes: One miſchiefe brings another in. O Theſeus wyfe, and Chylde Of Ioue, let vyce be ſoone out of thine honeſt breaſt exilde: And quench the raging heat: to dire diſpayre doe not vp yeeld, Who at the firſt repulſeth loue, is ſafe and winnes the field, Who doth by flattring fancy fonde feede on his vitious vayne, To late doth grudge agaynſt the yoake which earſt hee did ſuſtayne: Nor yet doe I forget how hard, and voyde of reaſon cleane: A Princes ſtately ſtomacke yeeldes vnto the golden meane: That ende I will accept, whereto by Fortune I can leade The neighbors weale great comfort brings vnto the horie heade.