Thyestes (Seneca's Second Tragedy) · chunk 22 of 24
Heywood, Jasper / Seneca, Lucius Annaeus · published 1560 · first performed or written 1560 (Annals) tragedy T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.75 · 530 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
A mean in mischief ought to be, when guilt thou dost commit, Not when thou quit'st: for yet even this, to little seems to me. The blood yet warm even from the wound I should in sight of thee Even in thy saws have shed, that thou the blood of them mightst drink That lived yet: but while to much to haste my hate I think, My wrath beguiled is. myself with sword the wounds them gave, I struck them down, the sacred fires with slaugh●…er vowed I have Well pleased, the carcase cutting th●… and lyutles lymms on ground I have in little parcels chopped, and some of them I drowned In boiling cawderns, some to ●…yres that burnt full slow I put, And made to drop: their sinews all and lymms atoo I cut Even yet alive, and on the spit that thrust was through the same I hard the liver wail and cr●…e, and with my hand the flame I oft kept in: but every wh●… the father might of this Have better done, but now my wrath to lightly ended is. He rend his sons with wicked gum, himself yet woting nought, Nor they thereof. o ye, encloa●… with bending banks about All seas me hear, and to this 〈◊〉 ye gods now hearken well What ever pla●… ye fl●…dde are to: ●…eare all ye sprights of hell, ●…nd here ye lands, and night so 〈◊〉, that them dooste overlye With cloud so black, to my complaints do thou thyself apply. To thee now left I am, thou dost alone me miser see, And thou art left without thy starts: I will nut make for me P●…ions yet. nor ought for me r●…quyre, may aught yet be That me should veil? for you shall all my wishes now fo●…esee. Thou guider great of skies above, and prince of highest might, Of he 〈◊〉 place, now all with clouds full horrible to sight, enwrap the world, and let the winds on every syd●… break out, And send the dreadful thunder clap, through all the world about. Not with what hand thou guiltless hous●… and undeserved wall With less volte art wont to beat, but with the which did fall The three upheaped mountains once, and 〈◊〉 to hills in height Stood equal up, the ●…yantꝭ huge: throweout such weapons straight, ●…nd fling thy ●…yres, and therewithal revenge the drowned day. ●…et flee thy flames, the light thus lost and hid from heaven away, With flashes fill: the cause, (lest long thou shouldst doubts whom to hit,) Of each of us is ill: if not at least let mine be it, Me strike: with triple edged foole thy brand of flaming fire Beat through this breast: if father I my children do desire To lay in tomb, or corpses cast to fire as doth behove, I must be burnt: i●… nothing now the gods to wrath 〈◊〉 move, Nor power from skies with thunder bolt none strikes the wyched men. Let yet eternal night remain, and hide with darkness than The world about: I (Titan) nought complain, as now it stands, If still thou hide thee thus away.
nodes 925–970 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 22 of 24 in this edition
Length
530 words · 726 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.750 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T7 · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
A meane in myschiefe ought to be, when gylt thou dooste commyt, Not when thou quytst: for yet euen this, to lytle seemes to me. The blood yet warme euen from the wounde I shoulde in sight of thee Euen in thy sawes haue shed, that thou the bloud of them mightst drynke That lyued yet: but whyle to muche to haste my hate I thynke, My wrathe beguyled is. my selfe with swoorde the woundes them gaue, I strake them downe, the sacred fyres with slaugher vowde I haue Well pleasde, the carcase cuttyng th and lyutles lymms on grounde I haue in little parcelles chopt, and some of them I drownde In boylyng cawderns, some to yres that burnte full slowe I putte, And made to droppe: their synewes all and lymms atoo I cutte Euen yet alyue, and on the spytte that thrust was through the same I harde the lyuer wayle and cre, and with my hand the flame I ofte kept in: but euery wh the father might of this Haue better doone, but now my wrathe to lyghtly ended is. He rent his soons with wycked gumme, him selfe yet wotyng nought, Nor they therof. ó ye, encloa with bendyng banks abought All seas me heare, and to this ye godds now harken well What euer pla ye fldde are to: eare all ye sprights of hell, nd here ye lands, and night so , that them dooste ouerlye With clowde so blacke, to my complaynts do thou thy selfe applye. To thee now lefte I am, thou dooste alone me myser see, And thou arte lefte without thy startes: I wyll nut make for mee Pions yet. nor ought for me rquyre, may ought yet bee That me shoulde vayle? for you shall all my wyshes now foesee. Thou guyder great of skies aboue, and prynce of hyghest myght, Of he place, now all with cloudes full hortible to syght, Enwrappe the worlde, and let the wyndes on euery syd breake out, And sende the dredfull thunder clappe, through all the worlde about. Not with what hand thou gyltles hous and vndeserued wall With lesser volte arte wonte to beate, but with the whiche did fall The three vpheaped mountaynes once, and to hylls in height Stoode equall vp, the yantꝭ huge: throweout suche weapons streight, nd flyng thy yres, and therwithall reuenge the drowned daye. et flee thy flames, the lyght thus lost and hyd from heauen awaye, With flashes fyll: the cause, (least long thou shouldst douts whom to hit,) Of eche of vs is yll: if not at least let myne be it, Mee stryke: with tryple edged soole thy brande of flamyng fyre Beate through this brest: if father I my children do desyre To lay in tombe, or corpses cast to fyre as dothe be houe, I must be burnt: i nothyng now the gods to wrath moue, Nor powre from skyes with thunder bolte none strykes the wyched men. Let yet eternall night remayne, and hyde with darkenes then The worlde about: I (Titan) nought complayne, as now it stands, If still thou hyde thee thus awaye.