Seneca, Lucius Annaeus / Studley, John · published 1566 · first performed or written 1566 (Annals) tragedy T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm typicality 0.74 · 520 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
why turns he not his face, Retyringe fast into the East back up the day to twine? O father Phoebe to me, to me, thy Chariot reins resign, That I advanced up, about the marble skies may ride, Bequeath thy bridle unto me, and give me grace to guide Thy yoked prancing team, with jerking lash of burning whip, That with thy fervent fiery beams on purple pole do skip. Let Corinthe country burnt to dust by force of flame and fire give place, that both the ●umbled seas may join: whom to retire It doth compel, and dasheth of from bank on either side, Lest meet in one their channels might, whose streams he doth divide. No way to work their deadly woe I have but this at hand, That to the wedding I should bear a ruthful bridal brand, Anoyenge Creon's careless Court: when finished I have Such solemn seruyce, as that ryght● of sacrifice do the crave, Then at the Altars of the Gods my children shall be slain, With crimson coloured blood of babes heart, their altars will I stain. Through livers, lounges the lights & through every gut and gall, For vengeance break away perforce, and spare no blood at all: If any lusty life as yet within thy soul do rest, I fought of ancient courage still do dwell within my breast, Exile all foolish female fear, and pytye from thy mind, And as thuntamed Tigers use to rage and rave unkind, that haunt the croaking combrus caves and clumpered frozen clives, And craggy rocks of Caucasus, whose bitter cold depryves The soil of all inhabitors, permit to lodge and rest, Such savage brutish tyranny within thy brazen breast. What ever hurly-burly wrought doth Phasis understand, What mighty moustrous bloody feat I wrought by sea or land: The like in Corinth shallbe seen in most outrageous guise, Most hiddious● hateful, horrible, to hear, or see with eyes. Most devilish, desperate dreadful deed, yet never known before, Whose rage shall force heaven, earth & hell to quake and tremble sore. my burning breast that rolls in wrath and doth in rancour boil, Sore thirsteth after blood, & wounds with slaughter, death and spoil, By renting racked limbs from limbs to drive them down to grave: ●ush, these be but as Fleabytynges, that mentioned I have: As weighty things as these I did in greener girlysh age, Now sorrows smart doth rub the gall and frets with sharper rage. But sith my womb hath yellded fruit, it doth me well behove, The strength and perilous puissance of weyghtier ills to proue. Be ready wrath, with all thy might that fury kindle may, Thy foes to their destruction be ready to assay: Of thy divorcement let the Price to match, and counterpoise The proud & precious princely pomp of these new wedding days. How wilt thou from thy spouse depart? as him thou followed hast In blood to bathe thy bloody hands and traitorous lives to waste. Break of in time these long delays, abandon now again, This lewd alliance, got by guilt, with greater guilt refrain,
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)
why turnes he not hys face, Retyringe faste into the East backe vp the day to twyne? O father Phaebe to me, to me, thy Charyot reygnes resygne, That I aduaunced vp, aboute the marble skyes may ryde, Bequeath thy brydle vnto me, and giue me grace to guide Thy yoked prauncyng team, with yerkyng lasshe of burnyng whyp, That with thy feruent fyry beames on purple poale doe skyp. Let Corinthe cuntrey burnte to duste by force of flame and fyre Gyue place, that both the umbled seas may ioyne: whom to retyre It dothe compell, and dassheth of from banke on eyther syde, Least mete in one their chanels might, whose streames he dothe deuyde. No way to worke theyr deadly woe I haue but thys at hande, That to the weddyng I should beare a ruthfull brydall brande, Anoyenge Creons carelesse Court: when fynyshed I haue Such solemne sruyce, as that ryght of sacrafyce do the craue, Then at the Alters of the Gods my chyldrn shal be slayne, With crimsen colourd blod of babes harte, their alters wil I staine. Through liuers, lounges the lightes & through euery gut and gall, For vengeaūce breake away perforce, and spare no blood at all: If anye lustye lyfe as yet within thy soule do reste, I fought of auncient corage styll doe dwell within my breste, Exile all folysh female feare, and pyye from thy mynde, And as thuntamed Tygers vse to rage and raue vnkynde, that haunt the crokyng combrus caues and clumpred frosen cliues, And craggy rockes of Caucasus, whose bytter colde depryues The soyle of all inhabytours, permyt to lodge and rest, Such sauage brutysh tyranny within thy brasen breste. What euer hurly burlye wrought dothe Phasis vnderstand, What myghtie moustrous blody feate I wrought by sea or lande: The lyke in Corinth shalbe seene in moste outragyous guyse, Moste hiddious hatefull, horrible, to heare, or see wyth eyes. Most duelysh, desperate dredful dede, yet neuer knowen before, Whose rage shal force heauen, earth & hell to quake and tremble sore. my burning brest that rowles in wrath and dothe in rancour boyle, Sore thrysteth after blood, & woundes with slaughter, death and spoyle, By rentyng racked lyms from lyms to dryue them downe to graue: ush, these be but as Fleabytynges, that mencioned I haue: As weyghtie thinges as these I dyd in greener girlysh age, Now sorowes smarte doth rub the gall and frets wyth sharper rage. But sith my wombe hath yellded fruit, it doth me well behoue, The strength and parlous pussaunce of weyghtier illes to roue. Be redye wrath, wyth all thy myghte that furye kyndle maye, Thy foes to theyr dystruction be redy to assaye: Of thy deuorsement let the Pryce to matche, and counterpayse The proude & precious pryncely pomp of these new weddyng dayes. How wilt thou frō thy spouse departe? as hym thou folowed hast In blood to athe thy blody handes and traytrous lyues to wast. Breake of in tyme these long delayes, abanden now agayne, Thys lewd alliaunce, got by gylte, with greater gylt refrayne,