Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1601 [1600-1601] (Annals) tragedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T7 The Trojan war: conflict and its afterma typicality 0.75 · 506 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose Sable Arms Black as his purpose, did the night resemble When he lay couched in the Ominous Horse, Hath now this dread and black Complexion smeared With Heraldry more dismal: Head to foot Now is he to take Geulles, horridly Tricked With blood of Fathers, Mothers, Daughters, Sons, Baked and impasted with the parching streets, That lend a tyrannous, and damned light To their vild Murders, roasted in wrath and fire, And thus o're-sized with coagulate gore, With eyes like Carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus Old Grandsire Priam seeks. Fore God, my Lord, well spoken, with good accent, and good discretion. Anon he finds him, Striking too short at Greeks. His antic Sword, Rebellious to his Arm, lies where it falls Repugnant to command: unequal match, Pyrrhus it Priam drives, in Rage strikes wide: But with the whiff and wind of his fell Sword, Th' unnerued Father falls. Then senseless Ilium, Seeming to feel his blow, with flaming top Stoops to his Base, and with a hideous crash Takes Prisoner Pyrrhus' ear. For lo, his Sword Which was declining on the Milky head Of Reverend Priam, seemed i' th' Air to stieke: So as a painted Tyrant Pyrrhus stood, And like a Neutral to his will and matter, did nothing. But as we often see against some storm, A silence in the Heavens, the Rack stand still, The bold winds speechless, and the Orb below As hush as death: Anon the dreadful Thunder Doth rend the Region. So after Pyrrhus' pause, A roused Vengeance sets him new a-work, And never did the Cyclops hammers fall On Mars his Armours, forged for proof Eterne, With less remorse than Pyrrhus bleeding sword Now falls on Priam. Out, out, thou Strumpet-Fortune, all you Gods, In general Synod take away her power: Break all the Spokes and Fallies from her wheel, And bowl the round Nave down the hill of Heaven, As low as to the Fiends. This is too long. It shall to ' th' Barbers, with your beard. Prithee say on: He's for a jig, or a tale of Baudry, or he sleeps. Say on; come to Hecuba. But who, O who, had seen the ennobled Queen. The ennobled Queen? That's good: Ennobled Queen is good. Run barefoot up and down, Threatening the flame With Bisson Rheum: A clout about that head, Where late the Diadem stood, and for a Robe About her lanke and all ore-teamed Lomes, A blanket in th' Alarm of fear caught up. Who this had seen, with tongue in Venom steeped, 'Gainst Fortunes State, would Treason have pronounced? But if the Gods themselves did see her then, When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport In mincing with his Sword her Husband's limbs, The instant Burst of Clamour that she made (Unless things mortal move them not at all) Would have made milche the Burning eyes of Heaven, And passion in the Gods. Look where he has not turned his colour, and has tears in's eyes. Pray you no more.
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)
The rugged Pyrrhus, he whoſe Sable Armes Blacke as his purpoſe, did the night reſemble When he lay couched in the Ominous Horſe, Hath now this dread and blacke Complexion ſmear'd With Heraldry more diſmall: Head to foote Now is he to take Geulles, horridly Trick'd With blood of Fathers, Mothers, Daughters, Sonnes, Bak'd and impaſted with the parching ſtreets, That lend a tyrannous, and damned light To their vilde Murthers, roaſted in wrath and fire, And thus o're-ſized with coagulate gore, VVith eyes like Carbuncles, the helliſh Pyrrhus Old Grandſire Priam ſeekes. Fore God, my Lord, well ſpoken, with good accent▪ and good diſcretion. Anon he findes him, Striking too ſhort at Greekes. His anticke Sword, Rebellious to his Arme, lyes where it falles Repugnant to command: vnequall match, Pyrrhus it Priam driues, in Rage ſtrikes wide: But with the whiffe and winde of his fell Sword, Th' vnnerued Father fals. Then ſenſeleſſe Illium, Seeming to feele his blow, with flaming top Stoopes to his Bace, and with a hideous craſh Takes Priſoner Pyrrhus eare. For loe, his Sword Which was declining on the Milkie head Of Reuerend Priam, ſeem'd i' th' Ayre to ſtieke: So as a painted Tyrant Pyrrhus ſtood, And like a Newtrall to his will and matter, did nothing. But as we often ſee againſt ſome ſtorme, A ſilence in the Heauens, the Racke ſtand ſtill, The bold windes ſpeechleſſe, and the Orbe below As huſh as death: Anon the dreadfull Thunder Doth rend the Region. So after Pyrrhus pauſe, A rowſed Vengeance ſets him new a-worke, And neuer did the Cyclops hammers fall On Mars his Armours, forg'd for proofe Eterne, With leſſe remorſe then Pyrrhus bleeding ſword Now falles on Priam. Out, out, thou Strumpet-Fortune, all you Gods, In generall Synod take away her power: Breake all the Spokes and Fallies from her wheele, And boule the round Naue downe the hill of Heauen, As low as to the Fiends. This is too long. It ſhall to 'th Barbars, with your beard. Prythee ſay on: He's for a Iigge, or a tale of Baudry, or hee ſleepes. Say on; come to Hecuba. But who, O who, had ſeen the inobled Queen. The inobled Queene? That's good: Inobled Queene is good. Run bare-foot vp and downe, Threatning the flame With Biſſon Rheume: A clout about that head, Where late the Diadem ſtood, and for a Robe About her lanke and all ore-teamed Lomes, A blanket in th' Alarum of feare caught vp. Who this had ſeene, with tongue in Venome ſteep'd, 'Gainſt Fortunes State, would Treaſon haue pronounc'd? But if the Gods themſelues did ſee her then, When ſhe ſaw Pyrrhus make malicious ſport In mincing with his Sword her Husbands limbes, The inſtant Burſt of Clamour that ſhe made (Vnleſſe things mortall moue them not at all) Would haue made milche the Burning eyes of Heauen, And paſſion in the Gods. Looke where he ha's not turn'd his colour, and ha's teares in's eyes. Pray you no more.