Thyestes (Seneca's Second Tragedy) · chunk 22 of 24
Heywood, Jasper / Seneca, Lucius Annaeus · published 1581 · first performed or written 1560 (Annals) tragedy T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.81 · 530 words · other edition — not in the analysis
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 thes Even in thy laws 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 strake them down, the sacred fires with slaughter vowed I have Well pleased, the carcase cutting then, and lifeless limbs on ground. I have in little parcels chopped, and some of them I drowned In boiling caldrons, some to fires that burnt full slow I put, And made to drop: their sinews all, and limbs a two I cut Even yet alive and on the spit, that thrust was through the same I hard the liver wail and cry, and with my hand the flame: I oft kept in: but every whit the father might of this Have better done, but now my wrath to lightly ended is. He rent his sons with wicked gum, himself yet wotting nought. Nor they thereof O ye enclosed with bending banks about All seas me hear, and to this guilt ye Gods now hearken well whatever place ye fled are to here all ye sprites of hell, And here ye lands, and night so dark that them dost o'er With cloud so black to my complaints do than thyself apply. To thee now left I am, thou dost alone me miser see, And thou art left without thy stars: I will not make for me Petitions yet, nor ought for me require may ought yet be That me should veil? for you shall all my wishes now foresee. Thou guider great of skies above, & prince of highest might, Of heavenly place now all with clouds full horrible to sight, Enwrap the world, and let the winds on every side break out: And send the dreadful thunder clap through all the world about Nor with what hand thou guilts house and undeserved wall With lesser bolt are wont to beat, but with the which did fall The three unheaped mountains once and which to hills in height Stood equal up, the giants huge: throw out such weapons straight, And fling thy fires: and therewithal revenge the drowned day. Let flee they flames, the light thus lost and hid from heaven away, With flashes fill: the cause (lest long thou shouldst doubt whom to hit) Of each of us is ill: if not at least let mine be it. Me strike with triple edged tool thy brand of flaming fire. Beat through this breast: if father I my children to desire To lay in tomb or corpses cast to fire as doth behove, I must be burnt if nothing now the gods to wrath may move, Nor power from skies with thunder bolt none strikes the wicked men Let yet eternal night remain, and hide with darkness than The world about: ay, Titan nought complain as now it stands If still thou hide thee thus away.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 1119–1164 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 22 of 24 in this edition
Length
530 words · 625 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.808 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
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 miſchiefe ought to be when gylt thou doſt commit, Not when thou quytſt: for yet euen this to litle ſeemes to me. The blood yet warme euen from the wound I ſhould in ſight of thes Euen in thy lawes haue ſhed, that thou the bloud of them mightſt drinke That lyued yet: but whyle to much to haſt my hate I thinke My wrath beguyled is my ſelfe with ſword the woundes them gaue I ſtrake them downe, the ſacred fyres with ſlaughter vowde I haue Wel pleaſo, the carcaſe cutting then, and liueles lymmes on grounde. I haue in litle parcels chopt, and ſome of them I brounde In boyling cauderns, ſome to fyres that burnte ful ſlow I put, And made to droppe: their ſynewes all, and limmes a two I cut Euen yet alyue and on the ſpitte, that thruſt was through the ſame I harde the liuer wayle and crye, and with my hand the flame: I otf kept in: but euery whit the father might of this Haue better done, but now my wrath to lightly ended is. He rent his ſonnes with wicked gumme, himſelfe yet wotting naught. Nor they therof O ye encloaſ'd with bending bankes abought All ſeas me heare, and to this gylt ye Gods now harken well What euer place ye fled are to here all ye ſprites of hel, And here ye landes, and night ſo darke that them doſt ouerly With clowde ſo blacke to my complayntes do than thy ſelfe apply. To thee now left I am, thou doſt alone me miſer ſee, And thou art left without thy ſtarres: I wil not make for me Peticions yet, nor ought for me require may ought yet bee That me ſhould vayle? for you ſhal all my wiſhes now foreſee. Thou guyder great of ſkyes aboue, & prince of higheſt might, Of heauenly place now all with cloudes ful horrible to ſight, Enwrap the worlde, and let the wyndes on euery ſyde breake out: And send the dredfull thunder clap through al the world about Nor with what hand thou gyltes houſe and vndeſerued wall With leſſer bolt are wonte to beate, but with the which did fall The three vnheaped mountaynes once and which to hils in height Stoode equall vp, the gyantes huge: throuw out ſuch weapons ſtreight, And flyng thy fires: and therwithall reuenge the drowned day. Let flee they flames, the light thus loſt and hid from heauen away, With flaſhes fyll: the cauſe (leſt long thou ſhouldſt doubte whom to hit) Of ech of vs is ill: if not at leaſt let myne be it. Me ſtrike with tryple edged toole thy brande of flaminge fyre. Beate through this breaſt: if father I my children to deſyre To lay in tombe or corpſes caſt to fyre as doth behoue, I muſt be burnt if nothing now the gods to wrath may moue, Nor powre from ſkies with thunder bolt none ſtrikes the wicked men Let yet eternall night remayne, and hyde with darknes then The world about: I, Titan naught complayne as now it ſtandes If ſtil thou hyde thee thus away.