Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T34: thebes, antigone, polynices, creon, eteocles, war, theban, gods, dear, country.
Thebes will, I fear, incur the enmity Of nations by this act, and we shall wish (If Creon so begin his froward reign) Th' unhappy house of Oedipus again. WHere shall we vent our griefs? what power on earth Can lend our woes redress? Accursed Thebes, Is't not enough thy guilty soil hath drunk So many princes bloods, but after death Unto their Ghosts thou still shouldst prove a foe, And bar what nature, and all laws bestow? Whither is goodness fled from humane breasts? tigers themselves, if tigers could perform These rites of funerals, would now correct The malice of mankind. What shall we do T'appease the ghosts of our unburied Lords? Go sue to Thebes, perchance the sighs, and tears Of weeping queen's may move the tyrant's heart: No, royal Ladies, banish from your breasts That flattering hope; no tears, nor prayers can move, The ruthless tyrant's mind; an impious oath Hath bound his cruelty; his watchmen tell The carcases, and guard the place, to keep Sad friends from thence: no creatures have access To that dire field, but beasts, and birds of prey. His hate is constant, sooner hope t'appease Busiris altars, or the fiends themselves, Then savage Creon; venture not to Thebes. What other course is left us? To perform To their dear names such empty funerals As fortune will allow; or if that that Will not suffice, go speedily to Athens; Thither all conquering Theseus is returned, Triumphant now from th' Amazonian war, Whose mighty arm all savage tyrant's dread, Whose high Heroic thoughts were ne'er averse From suppliants, and for encouragement To all that come, in midst of Athens stands A gracious altar, where white mercy dwells, The poor man's goddess, shaded with a grove Of suppliant Olives, and chaste Laurel trees. None are denied to enter, but the rich, And fortunate; poor wretches, night and day, Find free access, and there have leave to pay Their cheap devotion; no slain bullock's blood, No Frankincense, nor rich Arabian fumes Do feed that altar▪ sighs, and floods of tears Are all that goddess craves; no gold adorns Her humble roofs, as those proud temples raised By happy Monarchs, and great conquerors, Instead of trophies, and triumphal robes, Torn hair, and widows mourning garments hang About the temple, thither from all coasts Unhappy souls repair, sad folk subdued In war, or banished from their native soils, Or those, whom hapless error has made guilty. There they implore, and there obtain their peace. Go you to Athens, sister, and entreat Great Theseus' aid, whilst I, whose fatal quarrel Was cause of all this dire and mournful war, Will try what mercy can be found in Thebes. Do not expose your life to such an hazard. What mischief can an humble suppliant fear? Besides my suit to Creon will in Thebes Be seconded by Polynices' friends. Go you with speed to Athens, if I fail, That your petitions timely may prevail. And all the gods prosper your pious suit.
seed 43: T30 · seed 44: T33 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Thebes will, I feare, incurre the enmity Of nations by this act, and we ſhall wiſh (If Creon ſo begin his froward reigne) Th' vnhappy houſe of Oedipus againe. WHere ſhall we vent our griefes? what power on earth Can lend our woes redreſſe? Accurſed Thebes, Iſt not enough thy guilty ſoile hath drunke So many princes bloods, but after death Vnto their Ghoſts thou ſtill ſhouldſt prooue a foe, And barre what nature, and all lawes beſtow? Whither is goodneſſe fled from humane breaſts? Tygers themſelues, if tygers could performe Theſe rites of funeralls, would now correct The malice of mankinde. What ſhall we doe T'appeaſe the ghoſts of our vnbury'd Lords? Goe ſue to Thebes, perchance the ſighs, and teares Of weeping queenes may mooue the tyrants heart: No, royall Ladies, baniſh from your breaſts That flattering hope; no teares, nor prayers can mooue, The ruthleſſe tyrants minde; an impious oath Hath bound his cruelty; his watchmen tell The carcaſſes, and guard the place, to keepe Sad friends from thence: no creatures haue acceſſe To that dire field, but beaſts, and birds of prey. His hate is conſtant, ſooner hope t'appeaſe Buſiris altars, or the fiends themſelues, Then ſauage Creon; venture not to Thebes. What other courſe is left vs? To performe To their deare names ſuch empty funeralls As fortune will allow; or if that that Will not ſuffice, goe ſpeedily to Athens; Thither all conquering Theſeus is return'd, Triumphant now from th' Amazonian warre, Whoſe mighty arme all ſauadge tyrants dread, Whoſe high Heroike thoughts were ne're auerſe From ſuppliants, and for encouragement To all that come, in midd'ſt of Athens ſtands A gratious altar, where white mercy dwells, The poore mans goddeſſe, ſhaded with a groue Ofſuppliant Oliues, and chaſt Laurell trees. None are deny'd to enter, but the rich, And fortunate; poore wretches, night and day, Find free acceſſe, and there haue leaue to pay Their cheape deuotion; no ſlaine bullocks blood, No Frankincenſe, nor rich Arabian fumes Do feede that altar▪ ſighs, and floods of teares Are all that goddeſſe craues; no gold adornes Her humble roofes, as thoſe proud temples raiſ'd By happy Monarchs, and great conquerers, Inſtead of trophees, and triumphall robes, Torne haire, and widowes mourning garments hang About the temple, thither from all coaſts Vnhappy ſoules repaire, ſad folke ſubdu'd In warre, or baniſh'd from their natiue ſoiles, Or thoſe, whom happleſſe errour has made guilty. There they implore, and there obtaine their peace. Goe you to Athens, ſiſter, and intreat Great Theſeus aide, whileſt I, whoſe fatall quarrell Was cauſe of all this dire and mournfull warre, Will try what mercy can be found in Thebes. Do not expoſe your life to ſuch an hazard. What miſcheife can an humble ſuppliant feare? Beſides my ſuite to Creon will in Thebes Be ſeconded by Polynices friends. Goe you with ſpeed to Athens, if I faile, That your petitions timely may preuaile. And all the gods proſper your pious ſuite.