Marlowe, Christopher / Nashe, Thomas · published 1594 · first performed or written 1586 [c.1585-1586; possibly 1591] (Annals) tragedy · Children of the Chapel (first) (Oxford's Boys) T7 The Trojan war: conflict and its afterma typicality 0.83 · 540 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
My mother Venus jealous of my health, Conveyed me from their crooked nets and bands: So I escaped the furious Pyrrhus' wrath: Who then ran to the palace of the King, And at Ioues Altar finding Priamus, About whose's withered neck hung Hecuba, folding his hand in hers, and jointly both Beating their breasts and falling on the ground, He with his falchion's point raised up at once, And with Megaera's eyes stared in their face, Threatening a thousand deaths at every glance. To whom the aged King thus trembling spoke: Achilles son, remember what I was, Father of fifty sons, but they are slain, Lord of my fortune, but my fortunes turned, King of this City, but my Troy is fired, And now am neither father, Lord, nor King: Yet who so wretched but desires to live? O let me live, great Neoptolemus, Not moved at all, but smiling at his tears, This butcher whilst his hands were yet held up, Treading upon his breast, struck off his hands. O end Aeneas, I can hear no more. At which the frantic Queen leapt on his face, And in his eyelids hanging by the nails, A little while prolonged her husband's life: At last the soldiers pulled her by the heels, And swung her howling in the empty air, Which sent an echo to the wounded King: Whereat he lifted up his bedrid limbs, And would have grappled with Achilles' son, Forgetting both his want of strength and hands, Which he disdaining whisked his sword about, And with the wound thereof the King fell down: Then from the navel to the throat at once, He ripped old Priam: at whose latter gasp Ioues marble statue 'gan to bend the brow, As loathing Pyrrhus for this wicked act: Yet he undaunted took his father's flag, And dipped it in the old Kings chill cold blood, And then in triumph ran into the streets, Through which he could not pass for slaughtered men: So leaning on his sword he stood stone still, Viewing the fire wherewith rich Ilion burnt. By this I got my father on my back, This young boy in mine arms, and by the hand Led fair Creusa my beloved wife, When thou Achates with thy sword mad'st weigh, And we were round environed with the Greeks: O there I lost my wife: and had not we Fought manfully, I had not told this tale: Yet manhood would not serve, of force we fled, And as we went unto our ships, thou knowest We saw Cassandra sprawling in the streets, Whom Ajax ravished in Diana's Fawn, Her cheeks swollen with sighs, her hair all rent, Whom I took up to bear unto our ships: But suddenly the Grecians followed us, And I alas, was forced to let her lie. Then got we to our ships, and being aboard, Polixena cried out, Aeneas stay, The Greeks pursue me, stay and take me in. Moved with her voice, I leapt into the sea, Thinking to bear her on my back aboard: For all our ships were launched into the deep, And as I swam, she standing on the shore, Was by the cruel Myrmidons surprised, And after by that Pyrrhus sacrificed.
seed 43: T12 · seed 44: T11 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
My mother Venus iealous of my health, Conuaid me from their crooked nets and bands: So I escapt the furious Pirrhus wrath: Who then ran to the pallace of the King, And at Ioues Altar finding Priamus, About whose withered necke hung Hecuba, Foulding his hand in hers, and ioyntly both Beating their breasts and falling on the ground, He with his saulchions poynt raisde vp at once, And with Megeras eyes stared in their face, Threatning a thousand deaths at euery glaunce. To whom the aged King thus trembling spoke: Achilles sonne, remember what I was, Father of fiftie sonnes, but they are slaine, Lord of my fortune, but my fortunes turnd, King of this Citie, but my Troy is fired, And now am neither father, Lord, nor King: Yet who so wretched but desires to liue? O let me liue, great Neoptolemus, Not mou'd at all, but smiling at his teares, This butcher whil'st his hands were yet held vp, Treading vpon his breast, strooke off his hands. O end Aeneas, I can heare no more. At which the franticke Queene leapt on his face, And in his eyelids hanging by the nayles, A little while prolong'd her husbands life: At last the souldiers puld her by the heeles, And swong her howling in the emptie ayre, Which sent an eccho to the wounded King: Whereat he lifted vp his bedred lims, And would haue grappeld with Achilles sonne, Forgetting both his want of strength and hands, Which he disdaining whiskt his sword about, And with the wound thereof the King fell downe: Then from the nauell to the throat at once, He ript old Priam: at whose latter gaspe Ioues marble statue gan to bend the brow, As lothing Pirrhus for this wicked act: Yet he vndaunted tooke his fathers flagge, And dipt it in the old Kings chill cold bloud, And then in triumph ran into the streetes, Through which he could not passe for slaughtred men: So leaning on his sword he stood stone still, Viewing the fire wherewith rich Ilion burnt. By this I got my father on my backe, This yong boy in mine armes, and by the hand Led faire Creusa my beloued wife, When thou Achates with thy sword mad'st way, And we were round inuiron'd with the Greekes: O there I lost my wife: and had not we Fought manfully, I had not told this tale: Yet manhood would not serue, of force we fled, And as we went vnto our ships, thou knowest We sawe Cassandra sprauling in the streetes, Whom Aiax rauisht in Dianas Fawne, Her cheekes swolne with sighes, her haire all rent, Whom I tooke vp to beare vnto our ships: But suddenly the Grecians followed vs, And I alas, was forst to let her lye. Then got we to our ships, and being abourd, Polixena cryed out, Aeneas stay, The Greekes pursue me, stay and take me in. Moued with her voyce, I lept into the sea, Thinking to beare her on my backe abourd: For all our ships were launcht into the deepe, And as I swomme, she standing on the shoare, Was by the cruell Mirmidons surprizd, And after by that Pirrhus sacrifizde.