Thyestes (Seneca's Second Tragedy) · chunk 21 of 24
Heywood, Jasper / Seneca, Lucius Annaeus · published 1560 · first performed or written 1560 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T40 Sin, guilt and violent loss within famil · 526 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T40: brother, death, life, die, heaven, sin, live, father, blood, soul.
I know my brother: such a guilt yet canst thou suffer well o earth to bear? nor yet from hens to Stygian lake of hell dost thou both drown thyself and us? nor yet with broken ground dost thou these kingdoms and their king with Chaos rude confound? Nor yet uprenting from the soil the bowers of wicked land dost thou Mycenae overturn? with Tantalus to stand, And auncyters of ours, if there in hell be any one, Now ought we both. now from the frames on either side anon Of ground, all here and there rend up, out of thy bosom deep Thy dens and dungeons set abroad, and us enclosed keep, In bottom low of Acheron: above our heddis aloft Let wander all the guilty ghosts, with burning frete full oft Let fiery Phlegeton that drives his sands both to and fro, To our confusion ovetroon, and violently flow. O slothful soil unshaken poise, unmoved yet art thou? The godis are fled. but take to thee with joy thy children now, And rather them embrace: at length thy children all, of thee So long wy●… for, (for no delay there standeth now in me,) Enjoy and kiss, embracing arms divide thou unto three. Is this thy league? may this thy loue and faith of brother be? And dost thou so repose thy hate? the father doth not crave His sons alive (which might have been without the guilt,) to have: And eke without thy hate, but this doth brother brother pray: That them he may ent●…mbe, restore, whom see thou shalt strait way Be burnt: the father nought requires, of the that have he shall, But soon forego. what ever part yet of thy children all Remains, he●…e shalt thou have: and what remaineth not, thou haste. Lie they in fields, a food out flung for fleeing fowls to waste? Or are they kept a pray, for wild and brutish beasts to eat? Thou hast deuou●…de thy sons, and fyld●… thyself with wick●…d meat. Oh this is it that shamed the god: and day from hens did drive Turned back to east. alas I wretch what wailings may I give? Or what complaints? what woeful words may be enough for me? The●…r heads cu●…e of, and hands of torn, I from the●…r bodies see, And wrenched fe●…te from broken thyghe●…, I here behold again. ●…ys this that greedy father could not suffer to sustain. In belly roll my ●…owels round, and closed crime so great Without a passage strives within, and seeks away to get. Thy sword (o brother) lend to me: much of my blood alas It hath: let us therewith make way for all my sons to pass. Is yet the sword fro me withheld? thyself thy bosoms tear. And let thy breasts resound with strokes: yet wretch thy hand forbear, And spare the dead. who ever saw such mischief put in proof? What rude Heniochus, that dwells by ragged coast aloof, Of Caucasus unapt for men? or fear to Athens, who Procustes wild? the father I oppress my children do And am oppressed, is any means of guilt or mischief yet?
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)
I know my brother: suche a gylt yet canst thou suffre well ô earth to beare? nor yet from hens to Stygian lake of hell Dooste thou bothe drowne thy selfe and vs? nor yet with broken grounde Dooste thou these kyngdomes and theyr kyng with Chaos rude confounde? Nor yet vprentyng from the soyle the bowres of wicked lande Dooste thou Mycenas ouerturne? with Tantalus to stande, And auncyters of ours, if there in hell be any one, Now ought we bothe. now from the frames on eyther syde anone Of grounde, all here and there rent vp, out of thy bosome deepe Thy dens and dungeons set abrode, and vs enclosed keepe, In botome lowe of Acheront: aboue our heddꝭ alofte Let wander all the gyltie ghosts, with burnyng frete full ofte Let fyry Phlegethon that dryues his sands bothe to and froe, To our confusion ouetroon, and vyolently floe. O slouthfull soyle vnshaken payse, vnmoued yet arte thou? The godꝭ are fled. but take to thee with ioy thy chyldren now, And rather them embrace: at length thy chyldren all, of thee So long wy for, (for no delaye there standeth now in mee,) Enioye and kysse, embracyng armes deuyde thou vnto three. Is this thy league? may this thy lous and fayth of brother bee? And dooste thou so repose thy hate? the father dothe not craue His soons aliue (whiche might haue bene without the gylt,) to haue: And eke without thy hate, but this dothe brother brother pray: That them he may entmbe, restore, whom see thou shalt straight way Be burnt: the father nought requyres, of the that haue he shall, But soone forgoe. what euer parte yet of thy children all Remaynes, hee shalt thou haue: and what remayneth not, thou haste. Lye they in feeldes, a foode out floong for fleeyng foules to waste? Or are they kept a praye, for wylde and brutyshe beasts to eate? Thou hast deuoude thy soons, and fyld thy selfe with wickd meate. Oh this is it that shamde the goddꝭ: and day from hens dyd dryue Turnde backe to easte. alas I wretch what waylynges may I gyue? Or what complayntes? what wofull woordes may be enough for mee? Ther heades cue of, and hands of torne, I from ther bodies see, And wrenched fete from broken thyghe, I here beholde agayne. ys this that greedy father coulde not suffre to sustayne. In belly rolle my owels rounde, and closed cryme so gret Without a passage stryues within, and seekes awaye to get. Thy swoorde (o brother) lende to me: muche of my blood alas It hathe: let vs therwith make way for all my soons to pas. Is yet the swoorde fro me withhelde? thy selfe thy bosomes teare. And let thy brests resounde with strokes: yet wretche thy hand forbeare, And spare the deade. who euer sawe suche mischiefe put in proofe? What rude Heniochus, that dwells by ragged coaste aloofe, Of Caucasus vnapt for men? or frare to Athens, who Procustes wylde? the father I oppresse my children do And am opprest, is any means of gylt or mischiefe yet?