Seneca, Lucius Annaeus / Studley, John · published 1566 · first performed or written 1566 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T51 Parents and children: blessing, birthrig · 530 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T51: esau, iacob, father, son, isaac, god, love, birthright, parents, thing.
Then only can I be at rest, when every thing I see Thrown headlong topsy turvey down to ruthful end with me. With me let all things clean decay: thyself if thou do spill, Thou mayst drive to destruction what else with the thou will: If in this folly stiff thou stand behold what after claps Are to be feared, none dare contrive for princes training traps. O luckless lot of froward fates o cruel fortunes hap, Both when she list to smite, or spare, in woe she doth us wrapp A like, the salve that God hath given so oft, to cure our grief, More noyeth then the sore itself, and sendeth less relief: If for her good deserts to me amendment I should make, I hazard should my venturous life to lose it for her sake. If I will shun my dismal day and will not for her die, Then want the love of loyalty O wretched man must I. No dastards dread my stomake stout can cause to droop and shrink, But mere remorse appalleth me, when on my babes I think. For why? when careful parents are on's reft of life and breath, Sun after them there wretched seed are drawn to doleful death. O Sacred righteousness (if thou enjoy thy worthy place In perfect bliss of happy heaven) I call upon thy grace, And the for witness here allege, how for my children's part With pit pryckte I have commit these things against my heart. And so I think Medea herself the mother rather had, (Though francticklye as now she fares with rage of heart so mad And doth abhor with painful yoke of cumbrous cares to toil) Her spousal bed, then that her seed should take the plunging foil. I did determine in my mind, to go her to entreat With gentle words, & pray her cease, in fervent wrath to fret. And lodon me when on's she kaste the beams of glauncinge eye, Full blithe she leaps, she jumps for joy, in fits she gins to fry. Deep deadly blackish hate she seems in out ward brow to bear, And wholly in her frowning face doth glutting grief appear. I packing, packing, Iason am: this still to chop, and change The fleeting soil of my abode, to me it is not strange. The cause of my departure yet (to me is strange) and new. I wont was in following the all places to eschew: I will departed, and get me hence, to whom for helping hand Intendest thou to send us forth, whom hence so fly the land Thou dost compel with thine allies? shall I repair again To Phasis flood, to Colchis Isle, or to my father's reign? Or gory sweating fields, that with my brother's blood do reek? What harbouring lands aloufe dost tho● command us out to seek? What seas appoint ye me to pa●se? shall I my journey drive, Upon the perilous hateful jaws of Pontus to arrive, By which I did safe conduct home kings valaunt armies great, Where roaring rocks with thundering noise the flapping waves do beat, Or on the narow wrackful shore, of Simplegadeses twain?
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)
¶Then onlye can I be at rest, when euerye thyng I see Thrown hedlong topsie turuey downe to ruthfull end wyth me. Wyth me let al thynges cleane decay: thy self if thou do spyll, Thou mayst dryue to distruction what els with the thou will: ¶Yf in this follye styff thou stand beholde what after clappes Ar to be feard, none dare contryue for princes traynyng trappes. O Luckles lot of froward fates o cruel fortunes happe, Both when she lyst to smyte, or spare, in woe she doth vs wrapp A lyke, the salue that God hath geuen so oft, to cure our grefe, More noyeth then the sore it selfe, and sendeth lesse reliefe: Yf for her good desares to me amendement I shuld make, I hazard shuld my ventrous life to lese it for her sake. If I wyll shun my dismall daye and wyll not for her die, Then want the loue of loialtie O wretched man must I. No dastardes dread my stomak stoute can cause to droupe and shrynke, But mere remorse appaulleth me, when on my babes I thynke. For why? when carfull parentes are ons reft of lyfe and breath, Sone after them ther wretched seede ar drawne to dolfull death. O Sacred ryghteousnes (if thou enioye thy worthye place In perfect blysse of happie heauen) I call vppon thy grace, And the for witnes here alledge, how for my chyldrens part With pitte pryckte I haue committ these thynges agaynst my harte. And so I thinke Medea her selfe the mother rather had, (Though francticklye as now she fares with rage of hart so madd And dothe abhor with paynfull yoke of combrous cares to toyle) Her spousall bed, then that her seede should take the plonging foile. I dyd determin in my minde, to go her to entreate With gentle wordes, & pray her cease, in feruent wrath to freate. And loon me when ons she kaste the beames of glauncinge eie, Full blythe she leapes, she iumpes for ioye, in fittes she ginnes to frye. Depe deadlie blackish hate she seemes in out warde brow to beare, And whollye in her frownynge face doth glutting grefe appeare. ¶I packing, packyng, Iason am: this still to chopp, and chaunge The fletynge soyle of my abode, to me it is not straunge. The cause of my departure yet (to me is straunge) and new. I wonted was in folowyng the all places to eschewe: I wyll depart, and get me hence, to whom for helpyng hande Entendest thou to sende vs furthe, whom hence so flie the land Thou dost compell wyth thyne alies? shall I repaire agayne To Phasis flood, to Colchis Isle, or to my fathers raygne? Or gorye swetyng feldes, that wyth my brothers blood do reeke? What harbring lands aloufe dost tho commaund vs out to seeke? What seas appoynt ye me to pase? shall I my iurney dryue, Uppon the parlous hatefull iawes of Pontus to aryue, By which I dyd saufe conduct home kynges valaunt armies great, Wher roring rockes with thundrynge noise the flapping waues do beate, Or on the naro wrackfull shore, of Simplegades twayne?