Heywood, Jasper / Seneca, Lucius Annaeus · published 1581 · first performed or written 1559 (Annals) tragedy T7 The Trojan war: conflict and its afterma typicality 0.89 · 522 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
And though thy grief pierce not thy tender years, Yet learn to wail thy wretched state by me, And take ensample at thy mother's tears. Once Troy hath seen the weeping of a child, When little Priam turned Alcides' threats, And he to whom all beasts in strength did yield, That made his way from hell, and broke their gates His little enemies tears yet overcame, Priam he said receive thy liberty, In seat of honour keep thy Kingly name, But yet thy sceptre's rule more faithfully. Lo such the conquest was of Hercules. Of him yet learn your hearts to mollify, Do only Hercles' cruel weapons please, And may no end be of your cruelty? No less than Priam, kneels to thee this boy, That lieth and asketh only life of thee. As for the rule and governance of Troy wherever fortune will there let it be. Take mercy on the mother's ruthful tears That with their streams my cheeks do overflow, And spare this guiltless infants tender years That humbly falleth at thy feet so low. OF truth the mother's great sorrow, doth move my heart full sore. But yet the mothers of the Greeks, of need must move me more, To whom this boy may cause in time a great calamity. May ever he the burnt ruins of Troy re-edify? And shall these hands in time to come, erect the town again? If this be th' only help we have, there doth no hope remain For Troy, we stand not now in case to cause your fear of mind, Doth aught avail his father's force, or stock of noble kind? His father's heart abated was, he drawn the walls about. Thus evil haps, the haughtest heart at length they bring to nought, If ye will needs oppress a wretch what thing more grievous were Then on his noble neck he should the yoke of bondage bear? To serve in life doth any man this to a King deny? Not Ulysses with his death, but Calchas prophecy. O false inventor of deceit and heinous cruelty, By manhood of whose hand in war no man did ever die. But by deceit and crafty train of mind that mischief seeks, Before this time full many one dead is, yea of the Greeks, The prophet's words and guiltless Gods sayst thou my son require, Nay: mischief of thy breast it is, thou dost his death desire. Thou night soldier, and stout of heart a little child to stay. This enterprise thou tak'st alone and that by open day. Ulysses manhood well to Greeks to much to you is known, I may not spend the time in words, our Navy will be gone A little stay, while I my last farewell give to my child, And have with oft embracing him my greedy sorrows filled. Thy grievous sorrows to redress, would God it lay in me, But at thy will to take delay of time I grant it thee. Now take thy last leave of thy Son, and fill thyself with tears. Oft times the weeping of the eyes, the inward grief out weaks.
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)
And though thy griefe pearce not thy tender yeares, Yet learne to wale thy wretched ſtate by mee, And take enſample at thy mothers teares. Once Troy hath ſeene the weeping of a child, When litle Priam turnde Alcides threats, And he to whom all beaſtes in ſtrength did yelde, That made his way from hel, and brake their gates His litle enmies teares yet ouercame, Priam he ſayd receiue thy liberty, In ſeat of honor kepe thy Kingly name, But yet thy Sceptors rule more faythfully. Lo ſuch the conqueſt was of Hercules. Of him yet learne your hartes to mollify, Do onely Hercles cruel weapons pleaſe, And may no end be of your cruelty? No leſſe then Pryam, kneeles to thee this boy, That lieth and aſketh onely life of thee. As for the rule and gouernaunce of Troy Where euer ortune wil ther let i bee. Take mercy on the mothers ruthful teares That with their ſtreames my cheekes do ouerflow, And ſpare this guiltles inſantes tender yeares That humbly falleth at thy feete ſo lowe. OF truth the mothers greate ſorow, doth moue my hart full ſore. But yet the mothers of the Greekes, of neede muſt moue me more, To whom tts boy may cauſe in time a great calamtie. May euer he the burnt ruines of Troy reedifie? And ſhall theſe handes in time to come, ereckt the towne againe? If this be th onely helpe we haue, there doth no hope remain For Troy, we ſtand not now in caſe to cauſe your feare of mynde, Doth ought auayle his fathers force, or ſtocke of noble kinde? His fathers heart abated was, he drawen the walles abought. Thus euil haps, the haughtteſt heart at lengh they bring to nought, If ye wil needes oppreſſe a wretch what thing more grieuous were Then on his noble neck he ſhould the yoke of bondage bere? To ſerue in life doth any man this to a King denye? Not Vliſſes with his death, but Calchas prophecy. O falſe inuentor of deceipt and hainous cruelty, By manhode of whoſe hand in warre no man did euer dye. But by diſceipt and crafty trayne of mynd that miſchiefe ſeekes, Before this tyme ful many one dead is, yea of the Greekes, The Prophets wordes and guilties Gods ſaiſt thou my ſonne require, Nay: miſchiefe of thy breaſt it is, thou doſt his death deſyre. Thou night ſouldier, and ſtout of hart a litle child to ſtay. This enterpriſe thou takſte alone and that by open day. Vliſſes manhood wel to Greekes to much to you is knowne, I may not ſpend the tyme in wordes, our Nauy wil be gone A little ſtay, while I my laſt farewel geue to my child, And haue with oft embracing him my greedy ſorrowes fild. Thy grieuous ſorrowes to redreſſe, would God it lay in mee, But at thy wil to take delay of tyme I graunt it thee. Now take thy laſt leaue of thy Sonne, and fil thy ſelfe with teares. Oft tymes the weeping of the eyes, the inward griefe out weakes.