Thyestes (Seneca's Second Tragedy) · chunk 19 of 24
Heywood, Jasper / Seneca, Lucius Annaeus · published 1560 · first performed or written 1560 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T51 Parents and children: blessing, birthrig · 489 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T51: esau, iacob, father, son, isaac, god, love, birthright, parents, thing.
What countenance he then would make: or in what words break out Would first his grief, or how would quake his body round about With sprite amazed sore: of all my work the fruit were this. I would him not a miser see, but while so made he is. Behold the temple opened now, doth shine with many a light: In gly●…ryng gold and purple seats he sytt●… himself upright, And staying up his heavy head with wine, upon his hand, He belcheth out. now chief of god, in highest place I stand, ●…nd king of kings: I have my 〈◊〉 and more than I could think: He tilled is, he now the wine in silver bull doche drink. And spare 〈◊〉 not, th●… ye●… 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 worser draft for 〈◊〉 That sprung out of the bodies late of sacrifices ●…ee, Which wine shall hide: 〈◊〉 therewithal the boards be ●…aken up. The father (mingled with the wine) his children's blood shall sup, That would have drunk of●…. behold, he now begins to 〈◊〉 His voice and sings, nor yet for ●…oye his mind he may refrain. Obeaten bosoms dulled so long with wo●…, 〈◊〉 down you●… 〈◊〉, at l●…gth your griefs relent: Let sorrow pass, and all your dread let go, and fellow eke of fearful banishment, Sad pou●… and ill in misery the shame of cares. more whence thy ●…ll thou haste, Then whether, skills. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to him, from high that falls, it is in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 be 〈◊〉 Beneath. and great it is to him again that priest with storm, of 〈◊〉 feels the smart, Of kingdom lost the payses to sustain with neck unbowde: nor yet deject of heart Nor overcome, his heavy haps always to bear upright. but now of careful carks Shake of the showers, and of thy wretched days away with all the miserable marks. To joyful state return thy cheerful face. put fro thy my●…de the old 〈◊〉 hence. It is the woo●… of wight in woeful case, in state of joy to have no confidence. Though better 〈◊〉 to them returned be, th'afflicted yet to joy it irketh sore. Why call'st thou me ●…backe, and hind'rest me this happy day to celebrate? wherefore Bid'st thou me (sorrow) weep without a cause? who doth me let with flowers so fresh and gay●… To deck my hears? it lettis, and me withdraws. down from my head the roses fall away●…: My moisted 〈◊〉 with ointment over all, with sudden maze stands up in woondrows wise. From face that would not weep the streams 〈◊〉 fall. and howling cries amid my words arise. My sorrow yet tha●…omde tears doth love. and wretches still delight to weep and cry. Unpleasant plaints it pleaseth them to move: and florysht fair it likes with 〈◊〉 dy●… Their robes to rend: to w●…yle it likes them still. for sorrow, sends (in sign that woes draw nigh)
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)
What countenance he then wolde make: or in what woordes breake out Wolde fyrst his greefe, or how wolde quake his bodie rounde about With spright amased sore: of all my woorke the fruite were this. I wolde him not a myser see, but whyle so made he is. Beholde the temple opened now, dothe shyne with many a lyght: In glyryng gold and purple seats he sytt him selfe vpryght, And staiyng vp his heauy head with wine, vpon his hande, He belcheth out. now cheefe of goddꝭ, in highest place I stande, nd kyng of kyngs: I haue my and more then I coulde thynke: He tylled is, he nowe the wyne in syluer bull doche drynke. And spare not, th ye , woorser draught for That sproong out of the bodyes late of sacrifyces ee, Whiche wyne shall hyde: therwithall the boordes be aken vp. The father (myngled with the wyne) his childrens blood shall sup, That woulde haue droonke of. beholde, he now begyns to His voyce and syngs, nor yet for oye his mynde he may refrayne. Obeaten bosomes dullde so longe with wo, downe you , at lgth your greues relēt: Let sorowe passe, and all your dreade let goe, and fellowe eke of fearefull banyshment, Sad pou and yll in myserye the shame of cares. more whense thy ll thou haste, Then whether, skylls. to him, from hye that falles, it is in be Beneth. and great it is to him agayne that prest with storme, of feeles the smart, Of kyngdome loste the payses to sustayne with necke vnbowde: nor yet deiect of harte Nor ouercome, his heauy happs alwayes to beare vpryght. but now of carefull carkes Shake of the showres, and of thy wretched dayes awaye with all the myserable markes. To ioyfull state returne thy cheerefull face. put fro thy myde the olde hence. It is the woo of wight in wofull case, in state of ioy to haue no confydence. Though better to them returned be, thafflicted yet to ioy it yrketh sore. Why calste thou me backe, and hyndrest me this happie daie to celebrate? wherfore Bydst thou me (sorowe) weepe without a cause? who doth me let with flowers so freshe and gay To decke my heares? it lettꝭ, and me withdrawes. downe from my head the roses fall away: My moysted with oyntment ouer all, with sodeyne mase stands vp in woondrows wyse. From face that wolde not weepe the streames fall. and howlyng cryes amyd my woordes aryse. My sorowe yet thaomde teares dothe loue. and wretches styll delight to weepe and crye. Unpleasant playntes it pleaseth them to moue: and florysht faire it lykes with dy Theyr robes to rent: to wyle it lykes them styll. for sorowe, sends (in sygne that woes drawe nye)