Thyestes (Seneca's Second Tragedy) · chunk 2 of 24
Heywood, Jasper / Seneca, Lucius Annaeus · published 1560 · first performed or written 1560 (Annals) tragedy T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm typicality 0.87 · 561 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
Let darkest night be made, and let the day the heavens forsake. Disturb the god of wicked house, hate, slaughter, murder make. Fill up the house of Tantalus with mischiefs and debates. Idorned be the pillars high, with bay and let the gates Be garnished green: and worthy there for thy return to sight, Be kindled fire: let mischief done in Thracia onse, there light More manifold. wherefore doth yet the uncles hand delay? Doth yet Tyestes not be wail his children's fatal day? Shall he not find them where with heat of fires that under glow The cawdern boils? their lymmꝭ each one a pieces let them go Dysperste: let father's fires, with blood of children filed be: Let dainties such be dressed: it is no mischief new to thee, To banquet so: behold, this day we have to the released, And hunger starved womb of thine we send to such a feast. With foulest food thy famine fill, let blood in wine be drowned, And drunk in sight of thee: lo now such dishes have I found, ●…s thou wouldest shun. stay whither dost thou ●…dlong way now take? To pools and floodꝭ of hell again, and still declining lake, And flight of ●…ree full freight with fruit that from the lips doth flee, To dungeon dark of hateful hell Let leeful be for me To g●…: or if to light be thought the pains that there I have, Remove me from those lakes again: in midst of worse wave Of Phleghethon to stand, in seas of fire beset to be. Who so beneath thy pointed pains by destinies decree Dooste still endure, who so thou be that underliest allow The hollow den, or ruin who that fears and overthrow Of falling hill, or cruel cries that sound in caves of hell Of greedy roaring lions throats, or flock of furies fell Who quakes to know, or who the brandꝭ of fire, in direst pain Half burnt throws of, hark to the voice of Tantalus: again That hastes to hell. and (whom the truth hath taught) bel●…ue well me Love well your pains, they are but small. when shall my hap so be To flee the light? disturb thou first this house with dire discord: Debates and battles bring with thee, and of th' unhappy sword Ill love to kings: the cruel breast strike through and hateful heart, With tumult mad. To suffer payne●… it seemeth well my part, Not woes to work: I am sent forth like vapour dire to rise, That breaks the ground, or poison like the plague, in wondrowse wise That slaughter makes. shall I to such detested ●…rymes, apply My nephews hearts? o parentis great of god above the sky, And mine, (though shamed I be to grant,) although with greater pain My tongue be vexed, yet this to speak I may no whit refrain, Nor hold my peace: I warn you this, least sacred hand with blood Of slaughter dire, or frenzy fell of 〈◊〉 fury wood The altars stain, I will resist: And guard such guilt away. With stripes why dost thou me affright? why threaist thou me to fray Those crawling ●…uakes? or famine fixed in empty womb, wherefore dost thou revive? now fries within with thirst enkyndled sore My heart: and in the bowels burnt, the boiling flames do glow.
seed 43: T32 · seed 44: T26 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Let darkest night be made, and let the daye the heauens forsake. Dysturbe the goddꝭ of wycked house, hate, slaughter, murder make. Fyll vp the house of Tantalus with mischieues and debates. Idorned be the pyllers hyghe, with baye and let the gates Be garnysht greene: and woorthie there for thy returne to syght, Be kyndled fyre: let myschiefe doone in Thracia onse, there lyght More manyfolde. wherfore dothe yet the vncles hande delaie? Dothe yet Tyestes not be wayle his childerns fatall daye? Shall he not fynde them where with heate of fyres that vnder glowe The cawdern boyles? their lymmꝭ eche one a peeces let them goe Dysperste: let fathers fires, with blood of childern fyled bee: Let deynties suche be dreste: it is no myschiefe newe to thee, To banquet so: beholde, this daie we haue to the releaste, And hunger starued wombe of thyne we sende to suche a feaste. With fowlest foode thy famyne fyll, let bloode in wyne be drownde, And droonke in syght of thee: loe nowe suche dyshes haue I founde, s thou woust shonne. staie whither doste thou dlong waie nowe take? To pooles and floodꝭ of hell agayne, and styll declynyng lake, And flight of ree full fraight with fruite that from the lyppes dothe flee, To dungeon darke of hatefull hell Let leefull be for mee To g: or if to light be thought the paynes that there I haue, Remoue me from those lakes agayne: in mydst of worser waue Of Phleghethon to stande, in seas of fyre besette to be. Who so beneath thy poynted paynes by destenies decree Dooste styll endure, who so thou be that vnderliest alowe The hollowe denne, or ruyne who that feares and ouerthrowe Of fallyng hyll, or cruell cryes that sounde in caues of hell Of greedy roaryng lyons throates, or flocke of furies fell Who quakes to knowe, or who the brandꝭ of fyre, in dyrest payne Halfe burnte throwes of, harke to the voice of Tantalus: agayne That hastes to hell. and (whom the truthe hath taught) belue well mee Loue well your paynes, they are but small. when shall my happe so bee To flee the lyght? disturbe thou fyrst this house with dyre discorde: Debates and battels bryng with thee, and of th' unhappie swoorde Ill loue to kynges: the cruell brest stryke through and hatefull harte, With tumulte madde. To suffre payne it seemeth well my parte, Not woes to woorke: I am sent foorth lyke vapour dyre to ryse, That breakes the ground, or poyson lyke the plague, in wondrowse wyse That slaughter makes. shall I to suche detested rymes, applye My nephewes hartes? o parentꝭ greate of goddꝭ aboue the skye, And myne, (though shamde I be to graunte,) although with greatter payne My tounge be vexte, yet this to speake I maie no whit refrayne, Nor holde my peace: I warne you this, leaste sacred hand with bloode Of slaughter dyre, or fransie fell of furie woode The aulters stayne, I will resyste: And garde suche gylt awaye. With strypes why dooste thou me affryght? why threaist thou me to fraye Those crallyng uakes? or famyne fyxt in emptie wombe, wherfore Dooste thou reuyue? nowe fryes within with thyrst enkyndled sore My hart: and in the bowels burnte, the boylyng flames doe glowe.