Seneca, Lucius Annaeus / Nuce, ThomasPseudo-Seneca · published 1566 · first performed or written 1566 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
Ne can her ruthful piteous sorrow slake, Though Nero's wrath do sore constrain her grace. She nill esteems the secret closet place: But boiling still with equal peysde disdain, With mutual hate 'gainst him doth burn again. My true and trusty love, that I do bear, In vain I see doth strive to comfort her. Revenging greedy grief doth straight reprieve, T'appease her smart, the counsel that I give. Nor flame of worthy breast doth once relent: But heaps of grief, her courage do augment. Alas, what griefly deeds for to ensue My fear foreseeth: God grant it be not true. O Staggering state, O peerless ill: With ease Electra I repeat, And call to mind thy mourning will. With watered eyes, like smarting sweat, Thou mightst lament thy father slain, Still hoping that thy brother might, That deadly deed revenge again. Whom thou O tender loving wight, Didst safely shield from bloody foe, And natural love did closely keep: But Nero's dreaded visage lo, Doth fear me that I dare not weep, Nor wail my parents ruthful case, By cruel lot to slaughter caught: Ne suffers me this genial face, To dash with tears, too dearly bought With brother's blood: who only was Mine only hope in all my grief, And of so many mischiefs, as My comfort great, and sole relief. Now lo reserved for greater care, And to abide more lingering pain, Of noble famous lineage bare, A drooping shade I do remain. My Ladies heavy voice me thought, Within my listening ears 'gan sound. And snailish age in going soft, Unto her thews is not ybound. O Nurse our dolours witness sure, By coral cheeks distilling rain, And heavy heart's complaint, endure. Alas what day shall rid of pain, With care your well nigh wasted heart? That sends this guiltless ghost to grave. This talk good Madam set apart. In rule my state the destinies have, And not thy prayers, O Matron just. The down soft easy God shall give, Your troubled mind, a time, I trust, More sweet than ever you did live. With fuel fair, as one content, And glossed face, but only please Your man, and make, he will relent. The Lion fierce I shall appease, And sooner tame the Tiger stout, Than mankind tyrants brutish breast. He spites the noble razed rout, Contemns high powers, dysdaynes the least: Ne can well use that princely weed, Which venomous parent wrapped him in By huge unspeakable grisly deed. Although that wight unthankful, grin In Kingly throne, that he doth reign, Through cruel cursed mother's aid: Although he pay with death again So great a gift, it shall be said, And after fates in long spent age, That woman wight shall have always, This eloge yet, and saying sage, That he by her doth bear the sway. Let not your ragious mind so walk, But do compress your moody talk.
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)
Ne can hir ruthfull pyteous sorrow slake, Though Neros wrath do sore constraine hir grace. Shée nill esteemes the secret closset place: But boyling still with equall peysde disdaine, With mutuall hate gainst him doth burne againe. My true and trustye loue, that I do beare, In vaine I sée doth striue to comfort her. Reuenging gréedie griefe doth streight repriue, T'appease hir smarte, the counsell that I giue. Nor flame of worthie brest doth once relent: But heaps of griefe, hir corage do augment. Alas, what griefly déedes for to ensue My feare foreséeth: God graunt it be not true. O Staggering state, O peerelesse yll: With ease Electra I repeate, And call to minde thy mourning will. With watred eyes, lyke smartiug sweate, Thou mightst lament thy father slaine, Still hoping that thy brother might, That deadly déede reuenge agayne. Whome thou O tender louing wight, Didst safely shielde from bloudy foe, And naturall loue did closely kéepe: But Neroes dreaded visage loe, Doth feare me that I dare not wéepe, Nor wayle my parents ruthfull case, By cruell lot to slaughter cought: Ne suffers me this geniall face, To dash with teares, too dearely bought With brothers bloud: who onely was Mine onely hope in all my griefe, And of so many mischieues, as My comforte great, and sole reliefe. Nowe loe reserude for greater care, And to abide more lingring payne, Of noble famous lynage bare, A drouping shade I doe remayne. My Ladies heauy voyce me thought, Within my listning eares gan sounde. And snaylish age in going soft, Unto hir thews is not ybounde. O Nurse our dolours witnesse sure, By curroll chéekes dystilling rayne, And heauy hearts complaynt, endure. Alas what day shall rid of payne, With care your well nie wasted hart? That sends this giltlesse ghost to graue. This talke good Madame set apart. In rule my state the destnies haue, And not thy prayers, O Matrone iust. The doune soft easy God shall giue, Your troubled minde, a time, I trust, More swéete than euer you did liue. With feuell faire, as one content, And glosed face, but onely please Your man, and make, he will relent. The Lion fierce I shall appease, And sooner tame the Tygre stout, Than mankinde tyrants brutish breast. He spites the noble raced route, Contemnes high powers, dysdaynes the least: Ne can well vse that princely wéede, Which venomous parent wrapt him in By huge vnspeakeable griesly déede. Although that wight vnthankfull, grin In Kingly throne, that he doth raigne, Through cruell curssed mothers ayde: Although he pay with death againe So great a gyft, it shall be sayde, And after fates in long spent age, That woman wyght shall haue alway, This eloge yet, and saying sage, That he by hir doth beare the sway. Let not your ragious minde so walke, But doe compresse your moodie talke.