Heywood, Jasper / Seneca, Lucius Annaeus · published 1581 · first performed or written 1559 (Annals) tragedy T7 The Trojan war: conflict and its afterma typicality 0.88 · 527 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
When in his hand he wound his locks, and drew the King to ground, And hid to hilts his wicked sword, in deep and deadly wound. Which when the gored King had took, as willing to be slain, Out of the old man's throat he drew his bloody blade again. Not pity of his years (alas) in man's extremest age: From slaughter might his hand withhold, ne yet his ire assuage: The Gods are witness of the same, and eke the sacrifice, That in his kingdom holden was, that flat on ground now lies. The father of so many Kings Priam of ancient name, Untombed lieth and wants in blaze of Troy: his funeral flame. Ne yet the Gods are wreaked, but lo his Sons and daughters all, Such Lords they serve as doth by chance of lot to them befall. Whom shall I follow now for prey? or where shall I be led There is perhaps among the Greeks that Hector's wife will wed. Some man desires Helenus' spouse some would Antenor's have, And in the Greeks their wants not some, that would Cassandra crave But I (alas) most woeful wight whom no man seeks to choose, I am the only refuge left, and me they clean refuse Ye careful captive company, why stints your woeful cry? Beat on your breasts and piteously complain with voice so high, As meet may be for Troy's estate, let your complaints rebound In tops of Trees: and cause the hills to ring with terrible sound. NOt folk unapt, nor new to weep (O Queen) Thou wilt to wail by practice are we taught, For all these years in such case have we been, Since first the Trojan guest, Amiclas sought And sailed the Seas, that led him on his way With sacred ship, to Cibell dedicate From whence he brought his unrepining prey, The cause (alas) of all this dire debate, Ten times now hid the hills of Ida be, With snow of Silver hew all over laid. And bared is, for Trojan rages each tree, Ten times in field, the harvest man afraid, The spikes of Corn hath reaped, since never day His wailing wants new cause renews our woe Lift up thy hand, (O Queen) cry well away: We follow thee, we are well taught thereto. Ye faithful fellows of your casualty, Untie th'at, that on your heads ye wear, And as behoveth state of misery. Let fall about your woeful necks your hair. In dust of Troy rub all your arms about, In slacker weed and let your breasts be tied down to your bellies let your limbs lie out, For what wedlock should you your bosoms hide? Your garments lose, and have in readiness Your furious hands upon your breast to knock This habit well beseemeth our distress, It pleaseth me, I know the Trojan flock Renew again your long accustomed cries, And more than erst lament your miseries. We bewail Hector. Our hair we have untied, now every one, All rent for sorrow of our cursed case, Our locks out spreads, the knots we have undone And in these ashes stained is our face.
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)
When in his hand he wound his lockes, and drew the King to ground, And hid to hiltes his wicked ſword, in deepe and deadly wound. Which when the ored King had tooke, as willing to bee ſlaynt, Out of the old mans throate he drew his bloudy blade agayne. Not pitty of his yeares (alas) in mans extreameſt age: From ſlaughter might his hand withhold, ne yet his yre aſſwage: The Gods are witnes of the ſame, and eake the ſacrifyes, That in his kingdome holden was, that flat on ground now lies. The father of ſo many Kings Pryam of aunient name, Vntombed lieth and wants in blaſe of Troy: his funerall flame. Ne yet the Gods are wreakt, but loe his Sonnes and daughters all, Such Lordes they ſerue as doth by chance of lot to them befall. Whom ſhall I follow now for pray? or where ſhall I be led There is perhaps amonge the Greekes that Hectors wyfe wil wed. Some man deſyres Helenus ſpouſe ſome would Antenors haue, And in the Greekes their wantes not ſome, that would Caſſandra craue But I (alas) moſt woeful wight whom no man ſeekes to chuſe, I am the only refuge left, and me they cleane refuſe Ye careful captiue company, why ſtints your woful crye? Beate on your breaſtes and piteouſly complayne with voyce ſo hye, As meete may be for Troyes eſtate, let your complayntes rebound In toppes of Trees: and cauſe the hills to ring with terible ſounde. NOt folke vnapt, nor nevv to vveepe (O Queene) Thou vvilſt to vvayle by practiſe are vvee taught, For all theſe yeares in ſuch caſe haue vve bene, Since firſt the Troyan gueſt, Amiclas ſoughte And ſaild the Seas, that led him on his vvay With ſacred ſhip, to Cibell dedicate From vvhence he brought his vnrepyning pray, The cauſe (alas) of all this dire debate, Ten tymes novv hydde the hilles of Idey bee, With ſnovve of Syluer hevv all ouer layd. And bared is, for Troyan rages each tree, Ten tymes in field, the harueſt man afrayde, The ſpikes of Corne hath reapt, ſince neuer day His waylyng wantes new cauſe renewes our woe Lift vp thy hand, (O Queene) crie well away: We follow thee, we are wel taught thereto. ¶Ye faythful fellowes of your caſualty, Vntie thattyre, that on your heads ye weare, And as behoueth ſtate of miſery. Let fall aboute your woeful neckes your hayre. In duſt of Troy rub all your armes about, In ſlacker weede and let your breaſtes be tyed Downe to your bellies let your limmes lye out, For what wedlocke ſhould you your boſomes hyde? Your garmentes looſe, and haue in readines Your furious handes vppon your breaſt to knocke This habite well beſeemeth our diſtreſſe, It pleaſeth me, I know the Troyan flocke Renew agayne your longe accuſtomde cryes, And more then earſt lament your miſeryes. We bewayle Hector. ¶Our hayre we haue vntide, now euerychone, All rent for ſorrow of our curſed cace, Our lockes out ſpreads, the knottes we haue vndone And in theſe aſhes ſtayned is our face.