Seneca, Lucius Annaeus / Studley, John · published 1566 · first performed or written 1566 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T17 Eastern conquest: Persians, Turks and so · 477 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
Take that thy heel's to scape them both, I do not the advise, That thou against thy father in law In traitorous arms should rise. Nor in Achas● thy cousins' blood thy wounding hands to gore, The volleys unto Medea made, do trouble the so ●ore. While yet thou hast not spilled there blood yet, fly, with me a way. when armies twain their banners o● Defiance shall display, And marching wurthe in field to fight s●ke battle at my hand, Who then for us encounter shall their puyssance to withstand? If Creon and Acastus king encamp together shall● Admit that these in one with them should join there powers all My Contreymen of Colchis I'll, and A●tas lusty king, Suppose the Scythians join which Greeks, to ground I will them bring, Clean put to foil. The puissant power of haughty mace I fear Take heed, lest more thou do affect the same, then for to clear, Thyself of Creon's servile yoke, Lest some suspicion grow. Of this our tattling long here let us make an end and go. Now Ioue hurl out thy flames and thy thundering bolts to fly, With fiery drakes bright brandishing force dispersed in burning sky: Strain forth thy dreadful threatening arm, dispose in due array The tossing dint of lyghtning flash, that wreck our quarrel may. With rumbling crack of renting cloud cause all the world to quake, And level not thy hovering hand to strike with fiery flake Upon my pashed and crushed corpses, or Iasons carcase slain: For whether of us thou smite to death his due reward shall gain, thy thumps of thwacking bolts on us amiss they cannot light. Fie, let thy mind on matters run that seem a modest wight. And use to have more cheerful talk, if any thing thou crave, Within my father's house to ease thy flight, thou shalt it have. thou know'st my mind both can, & eke is wont, to do no less, Then to contemn the brittle wealth that Princes do possess. This, this shallbe the only boon that at thy hand I crave, As mates with me in banishment, my children let me have, That resting on their sighing breasts my careful mourning head, I may my crystal ●●arye streams into their bosoms shed. But as for thee, new gotten sons of wife new wed do stay. I grant that unto thy request I wish I might obey: But nature me with pity pricks, that needs I must deny. For though both Creon and Achast, in torments force me lie, I could not yield unto their wills: on this my life doth rest: In times of tears, this is the joy of dull afflicted breast For better far I can abide the want of vital breath, And secure of my limbs, or lose, the light of world by death.
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)
¶Take y• thy heles to scape them both, I do not the aduise, That thou agaynst thy father in law In traytrous armes should ryse. Nor in Achas thy csens blood thy woundyng handes to gore, The voles vnto Medea made, do trowble the so ore. Whyle yet y• hast not spylt there blood yet, fly, with me a way. ¶when armies twain their banners o Defiance shall dysplaye, And marchyng urthe in fylde to fyght ske battayle at my hande, Who then for vs encounter shall theyr puyssace to wythstand? ¶If Cron and Acastus kynge encampe to gether shall Admit that these in one wyth them should ioyne there powers all My Contreymen of Cholchis Ile, and Atas lustye kynge, Suppose the Scythians ioyne wt Grekes, to ground I wyll them brynge, Cleane put to foile. ¶The puissant power of hawty mace I feare ¶Take hede, lest more thou do affece the same, then for to cleare, Thy selfe of Creons seruile yoke, ¶Least some suspicion grow. Of thys our tatlynge long here let vs make an end and go. ¶Now Ioue hurle out thy flames and thy thundring olts to fly, With fierie drakes bryght brandishing force disparst in burnyng skye: Strayne furth thy dreadfull thretning arme, dispose in due araye The tossyng dynt of lyghtnyng flashe, that wrecke our quarrell maye. With rumblynge cracke of rentynge clowd cause all ye world to quake, And leuell not thy houeryng hande to stryke wyth fyrye flake Uppon my pasht and crushed corpes, or Iasons carcas slayne: For whether of vs thou smyte to death hys dew rewarde shall gayne, thy thumps of thwacking boltes on vs amisse they cannot lyghte. ¶Fie, let thy mynde on matters ronne that seme a modest wyghte. And vse to haue more cherfull talke, if any thynge thou craue, Wythin my fathers house to ease thy flyght, thou shalt it haue. ¶thou knowst my mind both can, & eke is wonte, to do no lesse, Then to contemne the bryttell wealth that Prynces do possesse. This, this shalbe the onelye boone that at thy hande I craue, As mates wyth me in banyshmente, my chyldren let me haue, That restyng on theyr syghing brestes my carefull mournyng hed, I may my chrystall arye streames into theyr bosomes shed. But as for thee, new gotten sonnes of wyfe new wed do staye. ¶ I graunt that vnto thy requeste I wysh I myght obeye: But nature me wyth pytye pryckes, that nedes I must denye. For though both Creon and Achast, in tormentes force me lye, I could not yeild vnto theyr wylles: on thys my lyfe doth reste: In times of teares, thys is the ioye of dull afflycted breste For better far I can abyde the wante of vitall breath, And succour of my lymmes, or loose, the lyght of worlde by death.