Seneca, Lucius Annaeus / Studley, John · published 1566 · first performed or written 1566 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T34 Thebes and royal catastrophe: siege, sla · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T34: thebes, antigone, polynices, creon, eteocles, war, theban, gods, dear, country.
Medea yet is left, (to much.) and here thou mayst espy The Seas to secure us in flight, and lands aloof that lie: Yea iron tools, with burning brands we have to work them woe, And Gods that with the thunder dint shall overquell our foe: who wears the goldencrested crown him dread with awe ye should. My father was a king, yet I betrayed his Fleece of gold: Can not the deadly violence of weapons make the fear? No though such grisly lads they were as whilom did appear, That bred of gargoyle dragons teeth in hollow gaping ground, When mutually in bloody fight each other did confound. Then wilt thou cast thyself to death, Would God that I were dead. Fly, fly to save thy life. w● worth the time that once I fled. What o Medea. Why shall I fly? A mother dear art thou, Fly therefore for thy children's sake. Ye see by wh●m, and how, A wretched mother I am made. Thy life by flight to save dost thou mistrust? Nay, fly I will, but vengeance first i'll have. Then some shall thee at heels pursue, to wreck the same again Perhaps I'll make his coming short. Be still, and now refrain. O desperate dame thy thundering threats, and slake your raging ire. Apply, and frame thy froward will as time and tides require. Full well may fortunes welting wheel to begging bring my state, As for my worthy courage that she never shall abate. Who bouncing at the gates, doth cause the creaking doors to jar? It is the wreatche Creon his self, whom princely power far Hath life aloft, with lordly look, past up with powncinge pride, That he may Corinth country with the sway of sceptre guide. MEdea that ungracious imp king Aetes' wicked child Yet hath not from our careful realm her lingering foot exiled. Some noughty drift she goes about, her knacks of old we know, Her juggling arts, her harming hands are known well long ago. From whom will she with hold her harm? whom will this cruel beast Permit to live from peril free in quietness and rest? Clean to cut of this perilous plague it was our purpose bend, But Iason by entreating hard did cause us to relent. At his request we granted have her life she shall enjoy, Let her acquit our country free from fear of all annoy: Yea safely let her pack her hence, in eager gyddye fit With lompish lowering look she comes in talk with me to knit: Sirs keep her of, and set her hence, lest us she touch per hap, And drive her back from coming nigh command her keep her clapp. And let her learn at length, how that herself submit she may, The puissant poise and majesty of princes to obey. Run, hie the quickelye, trudge apace, have hence out of my sight This horrible, most odious quean, this monstrous wicked wight.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
¶Medea yet is lefte, (to much.) and here thou mayst espye The Seas to succour vs in flyght, and landes aloofe that lye: Yea iron tooles, wyth burning brands we haue to worke them woe, And Gods that wyth the thunder dynt shall ouerquell our foe: ¶who weares y• goldēcrested crowne hym dread wyth awe ye should. ¶My father was a kyng, yet I betrayed hys Fleece of gould: ¶Can not the deadly vyolence of weapons make the feare? ¶No though suche grislye laddes they were as whilom dyd appeare, That bred of gargell dragons teethe in holow gapyng ground, When mutually in blody fyght eche other dyd confounde. ¶Then wylt thou cast thy selfe to death, ¶Wolde God that I were dead. ¶Fly, fly to saue thy life. ¶w worth the time that once I fled. ¶What o Medea. ¶Why shal I flye? ¶A mother dere art thou, Fly therfore for thy chyldrens sake. ¶Ye see by whm, and how, A wretched mother I am made. ¶Thy lyfe by flyght to saue dost thou mistruste? ¶Nay, fly I wil, but vengeance first ile haue. ¶Then some shall thee at heeles pursue, to wrecke the same agayne ¶Perhap ile make his commyng short. ¶Be still, and now refrayne. O despret dame thy thondring threates, and slake your raging ire. Apply, and frame thy froward will as time and tides require. ¶Full wel may fortūes weltyng whele to beggynge brynge my state, As for my worthy corage that she neuer shall abate. Who bowncing at ye gates, doth cause the creakinge dores to iar? It is the wreatche Creon his selfe, whome princelie power far Hath lyft aloft, with lordlye looke, paft vp with powncinge pryde, That he maye Corinth contry with the swaye of scepter guyde. MEdea that vngracious imp kyng Aetas wicked chyld Yet hath not from our carfull realme her lingrynge foote exild. Som noughtie dryft she goes about, her knackes of olde we knowe, Her iugling artes, her harming hands ar knowne well longe agoe. From whō will she wt holde her harme? whom will this cruell beast Permit to liue from perrill fre in quietnesse and rest? Clean to cut of this parlous plauge it was our purpose bent, But Iason by ntreting hard did cause vs to relent. At his request we graunted haue her lyfe she shall enioye, Let her acquit our contrye fre from feare of all annoye: Yea safely let her pack her hence, in eger gyddye fitt With lompish lowring looke she coms in talke with me to knitt: Sirs kepe her of, and set her hence, lest vs she touche per hap, And driue her backe from cōming nigh commaund her kepe her clapp. And let her learne at length, how that her selfe submit she maye, The puissaunt payse and maiestie of princes to obaye. Run, hie the quickelye, trudge apace, haue hence out of my syght This horible, most odious quean, this monstrous wycked wight.