Thyestes (Seneca's Second Tragedy) · chunk 2 of 24
Heywood, Jasper / Seneca, Lucius Annaeus · published 1581 · first performed or written 1560 (Annals) tragedy T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm typicality 0.86 · 560 words · other edition — not in the analysis
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 gods of wicked house, hate, slaughter, murder make. Fill up the house of Tantalus with mischiefs and debates, Adorned 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 once, their light More many fold, wherefore doth yet the uncles hand delay? Doth yet Thyestes not bewail his children's fatal day? Shall he not find them where with heat of fires that under glow The cauldron boils? their limbs each one a pieces let them go Dispersed: let father's fires, with blood of children filled be: Let dainties such be dressed: it is no mischief new to thee, To banquet so: behold this day we have to thee 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, As thou wouldst shun, stay whither dost thou headlong way now take To pools and floods of hell again and still declining lake, And flight of tree full fraught with fruit that from the lips doth flee, To dungeon dark of hateful hell let leeful be for me To go: or if to light be thought the pains that there I have, Remove me from those lakes again: in midst of worser wave Of Phlegethon, to stand in seas of fire beset to be. Who so beneath thy pointed pains by destinies decree Dost 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 brands 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 believe 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 pains 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 wondrous wise That slaughter makes, shall I to such detested crimes, apply My nephews hearts? o parents great of Gods 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 strange fell of frantic fury wood The altars stain, I will resist: And guard such guilt away. With stripes why dost thou me affright? why threat'st thou me to fray Those crawling snakes? or famine fixed in empty womb, wherefore Dost thou revive? now fries within with thirst enkindled sore My heart: and in the bowels burned the boiling flame do glow.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 54–104 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 2 of 24 in this edition
Length
560 words · 697 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T36 — Hell, Furies and the language of punishmentcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.862 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
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 bee made, and let the day the heauens forſake. Dyſturbe the godds of wicked houſe, hate, ſlaughter, murder make. Fyll vp the houſe of Tantalus with miſchieues and debates, Adorned be the pillers hygh with bay, and let the gates Be garnyſht greene: and worthy there for thy returne to ſight. Be kyndled fyre: let miſchyefe done in Thracia once, theyr lyght More many folde, wherefore doth yet the vncles hand delaye? Doth yet Thyeſtes not bewayle his childrens fatall day? Shall he not finde them where with heat of fyres that vnder glowe The cawderne boyles? their limmes eche one a peeces let them go Diſperſte: let fathers fires, with blood of chyldren fyled bee: Let deynties ſuch be dreſt: it is no miſchiefe newe to thee, To banquet ſo: behold this day we haue to thee releaſt, And hunger ſtarued wombe of thyne we ſend to ſuch a feaſt. With fowleſt foode thy famyne fyll, let bloud in wyne be drownd, And dronke in ſight of thee: loe now ſuch diſhes haue I found, As thou wouldſt ſhonne, ſtay whither doſte thou hedlong way now take To pooles and floods of hell agayne and ſtyll declining lake, And flight of tree ful frayght with fruite that from the lippes doth flee, To dungeon darke of hateful hell let leeful be for me To goe: or if to light be thought the paynes that there I haue, Remoue me from thoſe lakes agayne: in midſt of worſer waue Of Phlegethon, to ſtand in ſeas of fyre beſet to bee. Who ſo beneath thy poynted paynes by deſtenyes decree Doſt ſtil endure who ſoo thou bee that vnderlieſt alow The hollow denne, or ruyne who that feares and ouerthrow Of fallyng hyl, or cruel cryes that ſound in caues of hell Of greedy raryng Lyons throats or flocke of furyes fell Who quakes to know or who the brandes of fyre in dyreſt payne Halfe burnt throwes of harke to the voyce of Tantalus: agayne That haſtes to hel, and whom the truth hath taught beleeue wel mee Loue wel your paynes, they are but ſmall when ſhall my hap ſo bee To flee the light? Diſturbe thou fyrſt thys houſe with dire diſcord Debates and battels bring with thee, and of th'unhappy ſworde Ill loue to kinges: the cruel breſt ſtrke through and hateful hart, With tumult mad. To ſuffer paynes it ſeemeth wel my part, Not woes to worke: I am ſent forth lyke vepoure dyre to ryſe, That breakes the ground or poyſon like the plague in wondrouſe wyſe That ſlaughter makes, ſhall I to ſuch deteſted crymes, applye My nephewes hartes? parentes great of Gods aboue the ſkie And myne (though ſham'de I be to graunt) although with greater pain My tounge be vext, yet this to ſpeake I may no whit refrayne Nor hold my peace: I ware you this leaſt ſacred hand with bloud Of ſlaughter dyre, or franſe fell of franke fury wood The aulters ſtayne, I wll reſiſt: And garde ſuch gylt away. With ſtrpes why doſt thou me affryght? why threatſt thou me to fraye Thoſe crallyn g ſnakes? or famine fyxt in empty wombe, wherfore Doſt thou reuyue? now fries within with thyrſt enkmdled ſore My harte: and in the bowels burnt the boyling flme do glow.