Hippolytus (Seneca's Fourth Tragedy) · chunk 4 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 · 521 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
The first redress is to withstand, not willingly to slide, The second is to have the fault by mean and measure tried: O wicked wretch what wilt thou do? why dost thou burden more The stained stock and dost excel thy mother's fault afore? More heinous is thy guilt than yet thy mother's Monster was: For monsters mayst thou think are brought by destiny to pass: But let the cause of sin, to blame of manners lewd redound: And if because thy husband doth, not breath above the ground. Thou thinkst thou mayst defend thy fault, and make thy matter good And free from fear? thou art beguiled, yet think the Stygian flood In grisly gaping gulf for aye hath drenched Theseus deep, But yet thy Sire, whose kingdoms large the Seas at will do keep: Whose dreadful doom pronounceth pangs, and due deserved pain, Two hundredth wailing souls at once. Will he thinkst thou maintain So heinous crime to couch? the care of tender parents' breast Full wise, and wary is to bring their children to the best. Yet shall we think by subtle mean by craft and devilish guile, In hugger-mugger close to keep our treachery so vile. What shall thy mother's father Phoebe, whose beams so blazing bright, With fiery gleed of every thing, doth shed his golden light? Or Ioue the Grandsire great of Gods that all the world doth shake, And brandisheth with flaming Fist, his fiery lightnings flake: That Vulcan doth in Furnace hot, of dusky Aetna make Thinkst thou this may be brought to pass, so heinous crime to hide? Among thy Grandsire all that have each privy thing espied? But though the favour of the Gods conceal the second time Thy loathsome lust (unworthy name) and to thy bawdy crime, Sure faithfulness annexed be, that ever barred was. Each great offence, what will this work? a present plague, alas Suspicion lest the guilty night bewray thy deed unjust: And conscience burdened sore with sin that doth itself mistrust. Some have commit offence full safe from any bitter blame, But none without the stinging pricks of conscience did the same: Assuage the boiling flames of this thy lewd ungracious love, Such monstrous mischief horrible from modest mind remove. Which never did Barbarian commit unto this day. No not the Gadding Gothes that up and down the fyeldes do stray: Nor craggy crested Taurus' mount whose hoary and frosty face With numbing cold abandons all inhabitors the place. Nor yet the scattered Scythian, thy mother have in mind, And fear this foreign venery, so strange against thy kind: The Father's wedlock with the sons thou seek'st to be defiled, And to conceive in wicked womb a Bastard Mungrell Child: Go too, and turn thy Nature to the flame of burning breast. Why yet do Monsters cease? why is thy Brother's cave in rest. That Minotaurus hideous hole and ugly couching den Without another greedy fiend to munch up flesh of men? misshapen, loathly monsters borne so oft the world shall bear, So oft rebels against herself confused Nature dear, As love entangles nymphs of Crete.
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)
The firſt redreſſe is to withſtand, not willingly to ſlide, The ſecond is to haue the fault by meane and meaſure tride: O wicked wretch what wilt thou doe? why doſt thou burden more The ſtayned ſtocke and doſt excell thy mothers fault afore? More haynous is thy guilt than yet thy mothers Monſter was: For monſters mayſt thou thinke are brought by deſtiny to paſſe: But let the cauſe of ſinne, to blame of maners lewde redounde: And if bicauſe thy huſband doth, not breath aboue the grounde. Thou thinkſt thou mayſt defend thy fault, and make thy matter good And free from feare? thou arte beguilde, yet thinke the Stygian flood In grieſly gaping gulfe for aye hath drenched Theſeus deepe, But yet thy Syre, whoſe kingdomes large the Seas at will do keepe: Whoſe dredfull doome pronounceth panges, and due deſerued payne, Two hundreth wayling ſoules at once. Will he thinkſt thou maintayne So haynous crime to couche? the care of tender Parents breaſt Full wiſe, and wary is to bring their children to the beſt. Yet ſhall we thinke by ſubtill meane by craft and diueliſh guile, In hugger mugger cloſe to keepe our trechery ſo vile. What ſhall thy mothers father Phoebe, whoſe beames ſo blaſing bright, With fiery gleede o euery thing, doth ſhed his golden light? Or Ioue the Grandſire great of Gods that all the world doth ſhake, And brandiſheth with flaming Fiſt, his fiery lightnings flake: That Vulcane doth in Fornace hoate, of duſky Aetna make Thinkſt thou thys may be brought to paſſe, ſo haynous crime to hide? Among thy Grandſire all that haue eche priuy thing eſpide? But though the fauor of the Gods conceale the ſecond time Thy lothſome luſt (vnworthy name) and to thy baudy crime, Sure faythfulneſſe annexed be, that euer barred was. Ech great offence, what will this worke? a preſent plague, alas Suſpicionleſt the guilty night bewray thy deede vniuſt: And conſcience burdned ſore with ſinne that doth it ſelfe miſtruſt. Some haue commit offence full ſafe from any bitter blame, But none without the ſtinging pricks of conſcience did the ſame: Aſſwage the boyling flames of this thy lewde vngratious loue, Such monſtrous miſchiefe horrible from modeſt minde remoue. Which neuer did Barbarian commit vnto this day. No not the Gadding Gothes that vp and downe the fyeles do ſtray: Nor craggy creſted Taurus mount whoſe hoary and froſty face With cold abandons all inhabitors the place. Nor yet the ſcattered Scithian, thy mother haue in mynd, And feare this forrayne venery, ſo ſtraunge agaynſt thy kind: The Fathers wedlocke with the ſonnes thou ſeckſt to be defylde, And to conceiue in wicked womb a Baſtard Mungrell Child: Go too, and turne thy Nature to the flame of burning breaſt. Why yet do Monſters ceaſe? why is thy Brothers caue in reaſt. That Mynotaurus hideous hole and vgly couching den Without an other greedy fyend to mounch vp fleſh of men? Miſhapen, lothly monſters borne ſo oft the world ſhall beare, So oft rebels agaynſt her ſelfe confuſed Nature deare, As loue entangles Nimphes of Crere.