Seneca, Lucius Annaeus / Neville, Alexander · published 1581 · first performed or written 1563 (Annals) tragedy T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm typicality 0.79 · 491 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
O heavy hap. And bide I still alone the spoil to see? Of Cities great, of men, of beasts, by plague that wasted be? And thou amongst so many ills, a happy life to lead, Couldst once persuade thyself (O wretch) without all fear or dread. Of Phoebus secret judgements to, and that in kings estate? Thou, thou, infected hast the air, in such a filthy rate. Thou art the only cause of woe: by thee these evils rise, By thee to grave on such a sort, this wretched people plies. The fiery flaming frying heat, afflicted hearts that wastes, Is not relieved as wont it was by cold and pleasant blasts. The gentle western winds have left with healthful puffs to blow, And now the fiery Dog with blaze of boiling heat doth glow. The Sun in Leo burns so hot, and so the earth doth broil, That floods and herbs are dried up, and nought remains but soil, So thoroughly scorched and stewed with heat, that moisture all is gone, And now amongst so many floods, remains alas not one. The places dry are only seen the streams are drunken up. And water that doth yet remain: the soaking Earth doth sup. The Moon with clouds quite over cast, all sadly forth she glides, And doleful darksome shades of night the whole world over hides. No Star on high at all doth shine, but black and hellish hue Hath overshaded all the Skies, whence deadly mists ensue. The corn that wonted was to grow and fruitfully to spring, Now to the voided Barns nought else, but empty stalks doth bring. No part of all our kingdom is free from destruction: But all together run and rush, to utter confusion. The old men with the young (alas:) the Father with the child The plague consumes. Both man & wife, all beasts both tame & wild Are spoiled by the Pestilence. No pomp at all remains, That wonted was in Funerals, to ease the mourner's pains. Alas this spoil of people made, by plague hath dried mine eyes: And secretly within my breast, the grief it boiling fries. And that, that wonted is to hap, in most extremest ills: My tears are dry and glutting grief my wretched breast it fills. The crazed father bears the son, unto their dampish graves: And after him with burden like, the Mother comes and raves: And even lamenting as they stand, 〈...〉 both they fall, And mourners new in like estate, for them and theirs they call. Who likewise in the midst of all their toil and painful pain Do drop into the grave they digged, and so the place do gain That was prepared for others erst. A hell it were to here The horror, and the miseries that everywhere appear. A Tomb is made for noble men, fast on the people die, And in, their burdens fling. Great Pieres all unregarded lie.
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)
O heauy hap. And bide I ſtil alone the ſpoyle to ſee? Of Cities great, of men, of beaſts, by plague that waſted bee? And thou amongſt ſo many ils, a happy lyfe to lead, Couldſt once perſwade thy ſelfe (O wretch) without all feare or dread. Of Phoebus ſecret Iudgements to, and that in Kinges eſtate? Thou, thou, infected haſt the ayre, in ſuch a filthy rate. Thou art the onely cauſe of woe: by thee theſe euils riſe, By thee to graue on ſuch a ſorte, this wretched people plies. The firy flaming frying heate, afflicted hearts that waſts, Is not relieude as wont it was by cold and pleaſaunt blaſts. The gentle weſtern windes haue left with healthfull puffes to blow, And now the fiery Dog with blaſe of boyling heate doth glow. The Sunne in Leo burns ſo hoate, and ſo the earth doth broyle, That fluds and hearbes are dryed vp, and nought remaynes but ſoyle, So throughly ſchorcht and ſtued with heate, that moiſture all is gone, And now amongſt ſo many fluds, remaynes alas not one. The places dry are onely ſeene the ſtreames are drunken vp. And water that doth yet remayne: the ſoaking Earth doth ſup. The Moone with clowds quight over caſt, all ſadly ſhe glides, And dolefull darkſom ſhades of night the who worlde ouer hides. No Star on high at all doth ſhine, but black and hue Hath ouerſhaded all the Skyes, whence deadly miſts enſue. The corne that wonted was to growe and fruitfully to ſpring, Now to the voyded Barnes nought els, but empty ſtalkes doth bring. No part of all our kingdome is free from deſtruction: But all together run and ruſh, to vtter confuſion. The old men with the yong (alas:) the with the chylde The plague conſumes. Both man & wife, all beaſts both tame & wylde Are ſpoyled by the Peſtilence. No pompe at all remaynes, That wonted was in Funeralles, to eaſe the mourners paynes. Alas this ſpoile of people made, by plague hath dryde myne eyes: And ſecretly within my breaſt, the griefe it boyling fryes. And that, that wonted is to hap, in moſt extremeſt ills: My tearees are dry and glutting griefe my wretched breaſt it fills. The craſed father beares the ſon, vnto theyr dampiſh graues: And after him with burden like, the Mother comes and raues: And euen lamenting as they ſtand, both they fall, And mourners new in like eſtate, for them they call. Who likewiſe in the midſt of all their oyle and paynfull payne Do drop into the graue they digd, and ſo the place doe gayne That was prepar' de for others erſt. A hell it were to heere The horror, and the miſeries that euery where appere. A Tombe is made for noble men, faſt on the people die, And in, their burdens fling. Great Pieres all vnregarded lye.