Seneca, Lucius Annaeus / Nuce, ThomasPseudo-Seneca · published 1581 · first performed or written 1566 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T50 Fleets, armies and generals: war by sea · 531 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T50: sea, honour, general, soldiers, men, ship, fight, soldier, king, vittori.
AH, ah, our captains slow dispatching coil, And our long suffering ire in such a broil, That streams of blood yet do not quench their rage Which they against our proper person wage And that all Rome, with corpses strewed about, Those cruel villains blood, doth not sweat out. But deeds already done, with death to pay. A small thing 'tis, a greater slaughterous day The people's cursed crime, and eke that dame, Whom I did aye suspect, deserves the same. whom, to yield those peasants would me make: At last she shall, with life our sorrow slake, And with her Body's blood shall quench our ire. Then, shall their houses fall by force of fire: What burning both, and buildings fair decay, What beggarly want, and wailing hunger may Those villains shall be sure, to have each day. Ah, Provender pricks that vile rebellious race Ne can they once our favour well embrace, Nor be content, with peace in quiet state, But broiling raumpe about with troubled gate. Hereon with boldness straight, hereon they fly, With hare-brained rashness headlong by and by. Well, they must tamed be with heavy stroke, And down be kept with poise of weighty yoke: That they, with like attempt, do not arise, Nor once cast up their deadly peasants' eyes, Against our loving spouses golden looks: First punish them sure, than fear shall be their books, To teach them, at their PRINCE's beck t'obey But see at hand, whom faith, and virtue rare, Lieutenant chief of camps, appointed there. THe vulgar people's rash unruly rage The slaughter of a few did soon assuage, Which long with stood our valiant force in vain, To tell your grace this news, I come again. And is this then enough, dost thou so well. O soldier mark what doth thy captain tell? Hast thou with held thy hand from bloody ire? Is this the due revenge that we require? The captain guides of treason paid their hire, By desperate death of bloody sword in fight. The rout which sought with flaming fire to light, Our royal Palace great, who would assign Their Prince what he should do: and pull in fine Our mate from us dissolving wedlock bands: Whose hardy slanderous tongues, & wicked hands, Her princely grace reproachfully withstands, From due revenge, are they dismissed free? Shall subjects pain, by grief assigned be? It shall assign which time shall never wear. Which neither wrath may end, nor yet your fear; She shall appease our high displeased mind, Who first, our wrath deserved due to find. Declare whose death your mood doth most require Let not my hand be stayed from your desire. It seeks our sister's death, and traitorous head. Those words through all my limbs, hath stiffness spread, Oppressed with grisly fear. Us to obey. Stands thou in doubt: On faith why do you lay So great a fault? Because thou sparedst our foe. Deserves a woman to be termed so? If treason she begin. Is any man So sure, that hit accuse of treason can: The people's rage: Those mad unwieldy wights Who order could? Who could stir up their spirits? No creature as I think.
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)
AH, ah, our captaines ſle diſpatching coyle, And our long ſuffring ye in ſuch a broyle, That ſtreames of bloud yet do not uē h their rage Which thei againſt our propre perſon wage And that all Rome, with corſes ſtrewd about, Thoſe cruell villaines bloud, doth not ſweat out. But deedes already done, with death to pay. A ſmall thing t'is, a greater ſlaughtrous day The peoples curſed crime, and eke that dame, Whom I did aye ſuſpect, deſerues the ſame. whome, to yelde thoſe peaſaunts would me make: At laſt ſhe ſhall, with life our ſorow ſlake, And with hir bodies bloud ſhall quench our yre. Then, ſhall their houſes fall by force of fyre: What burning both, and buildings fayre decay, What beggerly want, and wayling hunger may Thoſe villaines ſhal be ſure, to haue ech day. Ah, Proueder pricks that vile rebellious race Ne can they once our fauour well embrace, Nor be content, with peace in quiet ſtate, But broyling raumpe about with troubled gate. Hereon with boldneſſe ſtraight, hereon they flie, With harebraind raſhneſſe hedlong by and by. Well, they muſt tamed be with heauy ſtroke, And downe be kept with peiſe of weighty yoke: That they, with like attempt, do not ariſe, Nor once caſt vp their deadly peaſaunts eyes, Againſt our louing ſpouſes golden lookes: Firſt puniſh them ſure, then feare ſhal be their bookes, To teache them, at their Princes beck t'obay But ſee at hand, whom fayth, and vertue rare, Lieuetenant chiefe of camps, appointed thare. THe vulgare peoples raſh vnruly rage The ſlaughter of a fewe did ſone aſſwage, Which long wtſtode our valiant force in vain▪ To tel your grace this newes, I come againe▪ And is this then ynough, doſt thou ſo well▪ O ſouldiour marke what doth thy captaine tell? Haſt thou with held thy hand frou bloudy yre? Is this the due reuenge that we requyre? The captaine guides of treaſon payd their hyre, By deſperate death of bloudy ſword in fight. The route which ſought with flaming fyre to light, Our royall Pallace great, who would aſſigne Their Prince what he ſhould doe: and pull in fine Our mate from vs diſſoluing wedlocke bandes: Whoſe hardy ſlaunderous tongs, & wicked handes, Hir princely grace reprochfully withſtandes, From due reuenge, are they diſmiſſed free? Shall ſubiectes payne, by griefe aſſigned bee? It ſhall aſſigne which time ſhall neuer weare. Which neither wrath may end, nor yet your fear▪ Shee ſhall appeaſe our hie diſpleaſed minde, Who fiyrſt, our wrath deſerued due to finde. Declare whoſe death your moode doth moſt require Let not my hande be ſtayde from your deſire. It ſeekes our ſiſters death, and trayterous hed. Thoſe words through all my luns, hath ſtifneſſeſpred, Oppreſt with grieſty feare. Vs to obay. Stands thou in doubt: On fayth why do you lay So great a fault? Bycauſe thou ſparedſt our foe. Deſerues a woman to be termed ſo? If treaſon ſhe begin. Is any man So ſure, that hit accuſe of creaſon can: The peoples rage: Thoſe madde vnweldye wights Who order could? Who could ſtir vp their ſprits? No creature as I thincke.