Heywood, Jasper / Seneca, Lucius Annaeus · published 1581 · first performed or written 1559 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm · 516 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
Or else doth all at once together die? And may no part his fatal hour delay. But with the breath the soul from hence doth fly? And eke the Clouds to vanish quite away, As danky shade fleeth from the pole by day? And may no jot escape from destiny, When once the brand hath burned the body? whatever then the rise of Sun may see, And what the West that sets the Sun doth know. In all Neptunus' reign whatever be, That restless Seas do wash and overflow, With purple waves still tumbling to and fro. Age shall consume: each thing that liv'th shall die, With swifter race than Pegasus doth fly. And with what whirl, the twice six signs do fly, With course as swift as rector of the Spheres, Doth guide those glistering Globes eternally. And Hecate her changed horns repairs, So drawth on death, and life of each thing wears, And never may the man, return to sight, That once hath felt the stroke of Parcas might. For as the fume that from the fire doth pass, With turn of hand doth vanish out of sight And swifter than the Northern Boreas With whirling blast and storm of raging might, driv'th far away and puts the clouds to flight, So fleeth the spright that rules our life away, And nothing tarrieth after dying day. Swift is the race we run, at hand the mark Lay down your hope, that wait here ought to win, And who dreads aught, cast of thy careful cark: Wilt thou it wot what state thou shalt be in, When dead thou art as thou hadst never been. For greedy time it doth devour us all, The world it sways to Chaos heap to fall. Death hurts the Corpses and spareth not the sprite, And as for all the dens of Taenar deep. With Cerberus kingdom dark that knows no light, And straightest gates, that he there sits to keep, They Fancies are that follow folk by sleep Such rumours vain, but feigned lies they are, And fables like the dreams in heavy care. O dreadful day, alas, the sorry time. Is come of all the mother's ruthful woe, Astyanax (alas) thy fatal line Of life is worn, to death straight shalt thou go, The sisters have decreed it should be so, There may no force (alas) escape there hand, There mighty love their will may not withstand, To see the mother, her tender child forsake, What gentle heart that may from tears refrain Or whoso fierce that would no pity take, To see (alas) this guiltless infant slain, For sorry heart the tears mine eyes do stain To think what sorrow shall her heart oppress, Her little child to lose remediless, The double cares of Hector's wife to wail, Good Ladies have your tears in readiness. And you with whom should pity most prevail. Rue on her grief: bewail her heaviness. With sobbing heart, lament her deep distress, When she with tears shall take leave of her son, And now (good Ladies) hear what shall be done.
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)
Or els doth all at once togeather die? And may no part his fatal howre delay. But with the breath the ſoule from hence doth flie? And eke the Cloudes to vaniſh quite awaye, As danky ſhade fleeth from the poale by day? And may no iote eſcape from deſteny, When once the brand hath burned the body? What euer then the ryſe of Sunne may ſee, And what the Weſt that ſets the Sunne doth know. In all Neptunus raygne what euer bee, That reſtles Seas do waſh and ouerflow, With purple waues ſtil tombling to and fro. Age ſhal conſume: each thing that liuth ſhal die, With ſwifter race then Pegaſus doth flie. And with what whirle, the twyſe ſixe ſignes do flie, With courſe as ſvvift as rector of the Spheares, Doth guide thoſe gliſtering Globes eternally. And Hecate her chaunged hornes repeares, So drauth on death, and life of each thing vveares, And neuer may the man, returne to ſight, That once hath felt the ſtroke of Parcas might. For as the fume that from the fyre doth paſſe, With tourne of hand doth vaniſh out of ſight And ſwifter then the Northren Boreas With whirling blaſte and ſtorme of raging might, Driuth farre away and puttes the cloudes to flight, So fleeth the ſprighte that rules our life away, And nothing taryeth after dying day. Swift is the race we ronne, at hand the marke Lay downe your hope, that wayte here ought to win, And who dreads ought, caſt of thy carefull carke: Wilt thou it wot what ſtate thou ſhalt be in, When dead thou art as thou hadſt neuer bin. For greedy tyme it doth deuoure vs all, The world it ſwayes to Chaos heape to fall. Death hurtes the Corpes and ſpareth not the ſpright, And as for all the dennes of Taenare deeepe. With Cerberus kingdome darke that knowes no light, And ſtreighteſt gates, that he there ſittes to keepe, They Fancies are that follow folke by ſleepe Such rumors vayne, but fayned lies they are, And fables like the dreames in heauy care. O dreadful day, alas, the ſory time▪ Is come of al the mothers ruthful woe, Aſtianax (alas) thy fatal line Of life is worne, to death ſtrayght ſhalt thou goe, The ſiſters haue decreed it ſhould be ſo, There may no force (alas) eſcape there hand, There mighty loue their will may not withſtand, To ſe the mother, her tender child forſake, What gentle hart that may from teares refrayne Or whoſo fierce that would no pity take, To ſee (alas) this guiltles infant ſlayne, For ſory hart the teares myne eyes do ſtayne To thinke what ſorrow ſhall her hart oppreſſe, Her litle child to leeſe remedileſſe, The double cares of Hectors wife to wayle, Good Ladies haue your teares in readines. And you with whom ſhould pity moſt preuayle. Rue on her griefe: bewayle her heauines. With ſobbing hart, lament her deepe diſtreſſe, When ſhe with teares ſhall take leaue of her ſon, And now (good Ladies) heare what ſhall be done.