Seneca, Lucius Annaeus / Nuce, ThomasPseudo-Seneca · published 1581 · first performed or written 1566 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm · 483 words · other edition — not in the analysis
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 nil esteems the secret closet place: But boiling still with equal peysd 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 grisly 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 ruthfull case, By cruel lot this slaughter caught: Ne suffers me this genial face, To dash with tears to 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 bore, A drooping shade I do remain. My ladies heavy voice methought Within my listening ears can sound, And snailish age in going soft, Unto her thews in not ybound. O Nurse our dolours witness sure By coral cheeks distilling rain, And heavy hearts 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 madame) set apart. In rule my state their 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 appeal, And sooner tame the Tiger stout, Then mankind tyrants brutish breast, He spites the noble razed rout, contemns high powers, disdains 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 alway, 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: T26 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Ne can her ruthful piteous ſorrow ſlake, Though Neros wrath do ſore conſtrayne her grace She nil eſteemes the ſecrete cloſet place: But boyling ſtil with equal peyſd diſdayne. With mutuall hate gaynſt him doth burne agayne. My true and truſty loue that I do beare, In vayne I ſee doth ſtriue to comfort her, Reuenging greedy griefe doth ſtreight repriue, T'appeaſe her ſmarte the counſel that I giue, Nor flame of worthy breaſt doth once relent But heaps of greefe, her courage do augment. Alas, what grieſely deedes for to enſue My feare foreſeeth: God graunt it be not true. O Staggering ſtate, O peereleſſe yll: With eaſe Electra I repeate, And call to mynd thy mourning will. With watred eies like ſmartīg ſweat Thou mightſt lament thy father ſlain, Stil hoping that thy brother myght, That deadly deede reuenge agayne. Whom thou O tender louing wight Didſt ſafely ſhield from bloudy foe, And naturall loue did cloſely kepe: But Neroes dreaded viſage loe, Doth feare me that I dare not weepe, Nor wayle my parentes ruchful caſe, By cruell lot this ſlaughter cought: Ne ſuffers mee this geniall face, To daſh with teares to dearely bought With brothers bloud: who onely was Myne onely hope in all my griefe, And of ſo many miſchieues, as My comfort greate, and ſole reliefe. Now loe reſerud for greater care, And to abyde more lingring payne, Of noble famous lineage bare, A drouping ſhade I do remayne. My Ladyes heauye voyce mee thought Within my liſtning eares can ſounde, And ſnayliſh age in going ſoft, Vnto her thews in not ybounde. O Nurſe our dolours witnes ſure By curroll cheekes diſtilling rayne, And heauy heartes complaynt endure. Alas, what day ſhall ridde of payne, With care your welnye waſted heart? That ſends this guiltles ghoſt to graue This talke (good madame) ſet apart. In rule my ſtate theire deſtenies haue, And not thy prayers, (O matrone) iuſt. The doune ſoft eaſy God ſhall geue, Your troubled mynd a tyme I truſt, More ſweete then euer you did liue. With feuell fayre as one content, And gloſed face, but onely pleaſe Your man, and make, he will relent. The Lyon fierce I ſhall appeale, And ſooner tame the Tygre ſtoute, Then mankynd Tyrantes brutiſh breaſt, He ſpytes the noble raced out, Contemmes hygh powers, diſdaynes the leaſt: Ne can wel vſe that princely weede, Which venemous parent wrapt him in By huge vnſpeakeable grieſly deede. Although that wight vnthankful, grynne, In Kingly throne that hee doth raygne, Throughe cruel curſed mothers ayde: Although hee pay with Death agayne So greate a gift, it ſhal be ſayde And after fates in long ſpent age, That woman wight ſhal haue alwaye, This eloge yet and ſaying ſage, That he by her doth beare the ſway, Let not your ragious mynde ſo walke, But doe compreſſe your moody talke.