Agamemnon (Seneca's Eighth Tragedy) · chunk 7 of 28
Seneca, Lucius Annaeus / Studley, John · published 1581 · first performed or written 1566 (Annals) tragedy T7 The Trojan war: conflict and its afterma typicality 0.84 · 521 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
Queen, bridle thine affections, and wisely rule thy rage, Thy swelling mood now mitigate, thy choler eke assuage. Way well the weighty enterprise that thou dost take in hand, Triumphant victor he returns of mighty Asia land Avenging Europe's injury with him he brings away. The spoils of sacked Pargamy a huge and mighty prey. In bondage eke he leads the folk of long assaulted Troy, Yet darest thou by policy attempt him to annoy? Whom with the dint of glittering sword Achilles durst not harm, Although his rash and desperate dicks the froward Knight did arm: Nor Ajax yet more hardy man up yielding vital breath, Whom frantic fury fell enforced to wound himself to death: Nor Hector he whose only life procured the Greekes delay, And long in war for victory enforced them to stay: Nor Paris shaft, whose cunning hand with shot so sure did aim: Nor mighty Memnon swart and black, had power to hurt the same: Nor Xanthus' flood, where to and fro dead carcases did swim, With armour hewed and therewith all some maimed broken limb: Nor Simois, that purple wawmes with slaughter died-doth steer. Nor Cygnus lily white, the Son of fenny God so dear: Nor yet the mustering Thracian host: nor warlike Rhesus king: Nor Amazons, who to the wars did painted Quivers bring, And bore their hatches in their hands with Target and with shield, Yet had no power with ghastly wound to foil him in the field. sith he such scourings hath escaped and plunged of perils past intendest thou to murder him returning home at last? And sacred altars to profane with slaughters so unpure? Shall Greece th'advenger let this wrong long unrevenged endure The grim and fierce courageous horse, the battles, shouts, & cries, The swelling seas which bruised barks do dread when storms arise, Behold the fields with streams of blood o'erflown & deeply drowned, And all the chivalry of Troy in servile bondage bound, Which Greeks have writ in registers. Thy stubborn stomach byud, Subdue thy fond affections, and pacify thy mind. THe cursed time that evermore my mind did most detest, The days that I abhorred have and hated in my breast, Are come, are come, that mine estate will bring to utter wrack: Alas my heart why dost thou fail. and fainting fliest back? What dost thou mean at first assault from armour thus to fly, Trust this, the cruel Gods intend my doleful destiny, To wrap thee in with perils round and catch thee in a band? Endeavour drudge with all thy power their plagues for to withstand: With stomach stout rebellious to fire and sword appeal It is no plague, if such a death thy native destinies deal. (O partners of my perils all begot of Leda thou) Direct thy doings after mine, and unto thee I vow. This drosel sluggish ringleader, this stout strong hearted fire, shall pay thee so much blood again as shed he bathe in fire How haps it that his trembling cheeks to be so pale and white, Lying aghast as in a trance with fainting face upright.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 290–344 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 7 of 28 in this edition
Length
521 words · 708 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T7 — The Trojan war: conflict and its aftermathcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.841 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T12 · seed 44: T11 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Queene, brydle thyne affections, and wyſely rule thy rage, Thy ſwelling moode now mittigate, thy choller ake aſſwage. Way wel the wayghty enterpryſe that thou doſt take in hand, Tryumphant victor he retures of mighty Aſia land Auenging Europes iniury with him he bringes away. The ſpoyles of ſacked Pargamy a huge and mighty pray. In bondage eake he leades the foalke of long aſſaulted Troy, Yet dareſt thou by pollecie attempt him to annoy? Whom with the dynt of glittring ſword Achilles durſt not harme, Although his raſh and deſperat dickes the froward Knight did arme: Nor Aiax yet more hardy man vp yelding vitall breath, Whom frantike fury fell enforſt to wound himſelfe to death: Nor Hector he whoſe onely life procurde the Greekes delay, And long in warre for victory enforced them to ſtay: Nor Paris ſhaft, whoſe conning hand with ſhot ſo ſure did ayme: Nor mighty Memnon ſwart and blacke, had power to hurt the ſame: Nor Xanthus flood, where to and fro deade carkaſſes did ſwimme, With armour hewd and therewith all ſome maymed broken limme: Nor Symois, that purple wawmes with ſlaughter died-doth ſteare. Nor Cygnus lilly whyte, the Sonne of fenny God ſo deare: Nor yet the muſteryng Thraſian hoſt: nor warlike Rheſus kinge: Nor Amazons, who to the warres did paynted Quiuers bring, And bare theyr hatches in their handes with Target and with ſhield, Yet had no powre with ghaſtly wound to foyle him in the field. Syth he ſuch ſcouringes hath eſcapt and plungde of perilles paſt Entendeſt thou to murther him returning home at laſt? And ſacred alters to prophane with ſlaughters ſo vnpure? Shal Greec thaduenger let this wronge long vnreuengde endure The grym and fearce coragious horſe, the battayles, ſhoutes, & cryes, The ſwelling ſeas which bruiſed barkes do dread when ſtormes aryſe, Behold the fieldes with ſtreames of bloud oreflòwne & depely dround, And al the cheualry of Troy in ſeruile bondage bounde, Which Greekes haue writ in regiſters. Thy ſtubborne ſtomacke byud, Suddue thy fond affections, and pacify thy mynde. THe curſed tyme that euermore my mynd did moſt deteſt, The dayes that I abhorred haue and hated in my breaſt, Are come, are come, that myne eſtate wil bring to vtter wracke: Alas my hart why doſt thou fayle. and faynting flyeſt backe? What doſt thou meane at firſt aſſalte from armour thus to flye, Truſt this, the cruel Gods entend my doleful deſtenie, To wrap thee in with perils round and catch thee in a band? Endeuer drudge with all thy power their plagues for to withſtand: With ſtomacke ſtoute rebellious to fyre and ſword appeale It is no plague, if ſuch a death thy natiue deſtnies deale. (O partners of my perils all begot of Leda thou) Direct thy doynges after myne, and vnto thee I vow. This droſel ſluggiſh ringleader, this ſtout ſtrong harted fire, Sl pay thee ſo much bldud agayne as ſhe he bath in fyre How haps it that his trembling cheekes to be ſo pale and whight, Lying agaſt as in a traunce with faynting face vpright.