Seneca, Lucius Annaeus / Nuce, ThomasPseudo-Seneca · published 1581 · first performed or written 1566 (Annals) tragedy T2 Roman politics: senate, consuls and civi typicality 0.76 · 500 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
What then, why Senec do you that approve, That we contemned, despised and set at nought, With finger put in hole (full wisely wrought) Our bodies blood to seek should them abide, That they might us sometime destroy unspied? Their native country bounds to banished be, Nor Plautius' breast nor Sulla's eke we see Hath broke or camd: whose cankered churlish ire, Shapes bloody freaks to quench our bodies fire. And chiefly when these traitorous absent clounes, Such wondrous favour find in cities bounds, Which those same exiles lingering hope doth feed: Suspected foes with sword we will out weed. And so Octavia shall that jolly dame, Continue after them their bloody game. And wend that way her noun white brother went, Such high mistrusted things must needs be bent. It is (O Prince) a worthy famous thing, Amids redoubted Lords alone to ring: And wisely work your country's praise to save: And well yourself to captive folk behave: From cruel brutish slaughter to abstain, And void of mood to wreak your angry pain: And to the world a quiet calm to give, That all your age in peace their lives may live. This is a PRINCE's praise without all crime: This is the path to heaven whereby we climb. So is Augustus prince and father called Of country first in starbright throne installed. Whom as a God in ministers we adorn, Yet troublous fortune tossed him before, A great while long on lands and ruffling seas, Until his father's foes he could appease, And throught wars diverse course could quell them quite. To you did fortune yield her power, and might, And reins of rule without all blood, and fight. And to your beck both land, and seas hath bent. Grim deadly envy daunted doth relent. The Senate Lords gave place with free consent: The battailous rout of knights with willing hearts (That same decree from sager sires departs) Unto the lay men's choice do well agree. Your grace the spring of peace they count to be. And chosen judge, and guide of mortal stock. Your grace, your countries sacred sire, doth rock And rule with princely gorgeous title bright, The circled world in rundel wise ydight. Which mighty mounting name to keep so great, This noble city Rome doth you entreat: And doth commend unto your royal grace Her lively limbs in charge for your lives space. The gift of Gods it is, as we discus, That Rome with Senate sort doth honour us, And that the fear of our displeasure great, From cankered envious stomachs maketh sweat Both humble talk and supplications meek. And were not fear all these would be to seek. Unwieldy, cumbrous cities, members ill, That Prince and country both do seek to spill, To leave alive (which swell, and puffed be, Because of lineage great. and high degree) What madness mere is it whenas we may, Even with a word, such freaks dispatch away? Sir Brutus stern, his brawns and arms did dight,
Seneca, Lucius Annaeus / Nuce, ThomasPseudo-Seneca
Publication year (edition)
1581
First performance / composition (Annals)
1566
First performance (BritDrama)
1566 [summer]
Genre (British Drama)
tragedy
Play type
Translation;Nonprofessional;Closet/Unacted
Edition / TCP / DEEP
edition 82 · TCP A11909 · DEEP 5015.09
Edition role
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 784–847 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 12 of 23 in this edition
Length
500 words · 670 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T2 — Roman politics: senate, consuls and civil warcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.760 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T1 · seed 44: T2 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
What then, why Senec do you that approue, That we contemnde, deſpyſde and ſet at nought, With finger put in hole (ful wyſely wrought) Our bodies bloud to ſeeke ſhould them abyde, That they might vs ſometyme deſtroy vnſpyde? Their natiue countrey boundes to baniſht bee, Nor Plautius breſt nor Scillas eake we ſee Hath broke or camd: whoſe cankred churliſh yre, Shapes bloudy freakes to quench our bodyes fyre. And chiefly when theſe trayterous abſent clounes, Such wondrous fauour fynd in cityes bownes, Which thoſe ſame exiles lingring hope doth feede: Suſpected foes with ſword we wil out weede. And ſo Octauia ſhall that ioly dame, Continue after them their bloudy game. And wend that way her nowne whyte brother went, Such hye miſtruſted thinges muſt needes be bent. It is (O Prince) a worthy famous thing, Amids redoubted Lordes alone to ring: And wyſely worke your countries prayſe to ſaue: And wel your ſelfe to captiue folke behaue: From cruell brutiſh ſlaughter to abſtayne, And voyde of moode to wreake your angry payne: And to the world a quiet calme to geue, That al your age in peace their liues may liue. This is a Princes prayſe without al cryme: This is the path to heauen wherby we clyme. So is Auguſtus prince and father cald Of countrie firſt in ſtarbright throne yſtald. Whom as a God in minſters we adorne, Yet troublous fortune toſſed him beforne, A great while long on lands and ruffling ſeas, Vntil his fathers foes he could appeaſe, And throught wars diuerſe courſe could quel them quite. To you did fortune yeelde her power, and might, And raynes of rule without all bloud, and fight. And to your beck both land, and ſeas hath bent. Grim deadly enuye daunted doth relent. The Senate Lordes gaue place with free conſent: The battaylous route of knights with willing hartes (That ſame decree from ſager ſires departes) Vnto the lay mens choyſe do well agree. Your grace the ſpring of peace they count to bee. And choſen Iudge, and guyde of mortal ſtocke. Your grace, your countreys ſacred ſyre, doth rocke And rule with princely gorgeous tytle bright, The cyrcled world in rundel wyſe ydight. Which mighty mounting name to keepe ſo great, This noble citty Rome doth you entreat: And doth commend vnto your royall grace Her liuely limmes in charge for your liues pace. The gyft of Gods it is, as we diſcus, That Rome with Senafe ſorte doth honor vs, And that the feare of our diſpleaſure great, From cankred enuyous ſtomackes maketh ſweat Both humble talke and ſupplications meeke. And were not feare all theſe would be to ſeeke. Vnweldy, combrous cityes, members ill, That Prince and countrey both do ſeeke to ſpill, To leaue alyue (which ſwell, and puffed bee, Bycauſe of lynage great. and high degre) What madnes meere is it when as we may, Euen with a word, ſuch freakes diſpatch away▪ Sir Brutus ſterne, his brawnes and armes did dight,