Peele, George / Shakespeare, William · published 1594 · first performed or written 1594 [Jan 23 (24); poss. written 1590-1592] (Annals) tragedy · Pembroke's Men (?) T34 Thebes and royal catastrophe: siege, sla typicality 0.70 · 512 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T34: thebes, antigone, polynices, creon, eteocles, war, theban, gods, dear, country.
My Lord I know not I, nor can I guess, Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her: For I have heard my Grandsire say full oft, Extremity of grieves would make men mad. And I have red that Hecuba of Troy, Ran mad for sorrow, that made me to fear, Although my Lord I know my Noble Aunt, loves me as dear as ere my Mother did, And would not but infurie fright my youth, Which made me down to throw my books and fly Causeless perhaps, but pardon me sweet Aunt, And Madam if my Uncle Marcus go, I will most willingly attend your Ladyship. Lucius' I will. How now Lavinia, Marcus what means this? Some book there is that she desires to see: Which is it girl of these, open them boy, But thou art deeper read and better skilled, Come and take choice of all my library, And so beguile thy sorrow, till the heavens Reveal the damned contriver of this deed. Why lifts she up her Arms in sequence thus? I think she means that there were more than one Confederate in the fact, I more there was: Or else to heaven, she heaves them for revenge. Lucius' what book is that she tosseth so. Grandsire 'tis Ovid's Metamorphosis, My Mother gave it me. For love of her that's gone, Perhaps she could it from among the rest. Soft so busily she turns the leaves, Help her, what would she find? Lavinia shall I read? This is the tragic tale of Philomela, And treats of Tereus' treason and his rape, And rape I fear, was root of thy annoy, See brother see, note how she coats the leaves, Lavinia wert thou thus surprised sweet girl? Ravished and wronged as Phlomela was, Frocd in the ruthless Vast and gloomy woods; See, see, I such a place there is where we did hunt, (O had we never, never hunted there,) Patternd by that the Poet here describes, By nature made for murders and for rapes, O why should nature build so fowl a den. Unless the God's delight in Tragedies, Give signs sweet girl, for here are none but friends, What Roman Lord it was durst do the deed? Or slonke not Saturnine as Tarquin erst, That left the Camp to sin in Lucrece bed Sat down sweet Niece, brother sit down by me, Apollo, Pallas, Ioue or Mercury, Inspire me that I may this treason find, My Lord look here, look here Lavinia, This sandy plot is plain, guide if thou canst This after me, I have writ my name, Without the help of any hand at all. Cursed be that heart that forced us to this shift: Writ thou good niece, and here display at last, What God will have discovered for revenge, Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain, That we may know the traitors and the truth, Oh do ye read my Lord what she hath writ, Stuprum, Chiron, Dmetrius. What, what, the lustful sons of Tamora, Performers of this heinous bloody deed.
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)
My Lord I know not I, nor can I gesse, Vnlesse some fit or frenzie do possesse her: For I haue heard my Grandsier say full oft, Extremitie of greeues would make men mad. And I haue red that Hecuba of Troy, Ran mad for sorrow, that made me to feare, Although my Lord I know my Noble Aunt, Loues me as deare as ere my Mother did, And would not but infurie fright my youth, VVhich made me downe to throwe my bookes and flie Causeles perhaps, but pardon me sweet Aunt, And Maddam if my Vnckle Marcus goe, I will most willinglie attend your Ladyship. Lucius I will. How now Lauinia, Marcus what meanes this? Some booke there is that she desires to see: VVhich is it gyrle of these, open them boy, But thou art deeper read and better skild, Come and take choise of all my Lybrarie, And so beguile thy sorrow, till the heauens Reueale the damn'd contriuer of this deede. VVhy lifts she vp her Armes in sequence thus? I thinke she meanes that there were more than one Confederate in the fact, I more there was: Or else to heauen, she heaues them for reuenge. Lucius what booke is that shee tosseth so Grandsier tis Ouids Metamorphosis, My Mother gaue it me. For loue of her thats gone, Perhaps shee culd it from among the rest. Soft so busilie she turnes the leaues, Help her, what would she finde? Lauinia shal I read? This is the tragicke tale of Philomel, And treas of Tereus treason and his rape, And rape I feare, was roote of thy annoie, See brother see, note how she coats the leaues, Lauinia wert thou thus surpriz'd sweet gyrle? Rauisht and wrongd as Phlomela was, Frocd in the ruthlesse Vast and gloomie woods; See, see, I such a place there is where we did hunt, (O had we neuer, neuer hunted thre,) Patternd by that the Poet here describes, By nature made for murthers and for rapes, O why should nature build so fowle a den. Vnlesse the Gods delight in Tragedies, Giue signes sweet gyrle, for here are none but friends, VVhat Romaine Lord it was durst doe the deed? Or slonke not Saturnine as Tarquin erst, That left the Campe to sinne in Lucrece bed Sit downe sweet Neece, brother sit downe by mee, Appollo, Pallas, Ioue or Mercurie, Inspire me that I may this treason finde, My Lord looke here, looke here Lauinia, This sandie plot is plaine, guide if thou canst This after me, I haue writ my name, Without the help of any hand at all. Curst be that hart that forcd vs to this shift: VVrite thou good Nece, and here display at last, VVhat God will haue discouered for reuenge, Heauen guide thy pen to print thy sorrowes plaine, That we may know the traytors and the truth, Oh doe yee read my Lord what she hath writ, Stuprum, Chiron, Detrius. What, what, the lusfull sonnes of Tamora, Performers of this haynous bloody deede.