Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T34: thebes, antigone, polynices, creon, eteocles, war, theban, gods, dear, country.
Oh Thebes, a name Once dear to me, but now a word of horror, And endless sorrow! yet give leave t' enterre My husband's hearse, and I will love thee still, And leave my heart for evermore to dwell On thy dear ground, behold with what attendance, What state the great Adrastus' daughter comes To claim her right at Thebes; how poor a claim The wronged wife of Polynices makes. 'tis not thy wealth, nor Cadmus stately throne, Nor crown, nor sceptre that Argia claims. I crave but mourning free, but death and dust, And such abhorred dust, as thou disdainest To harbour lovingly, bestow but what Thou hat'st on me, and take the greatest thanks A queen can give; and thou beloved ghost Of my dead Lord, if through these fields thou wander, And love the rites that I perform tonight, Direct me where thy wronged body lies. Madam this way, nearer the city walls My Lord was slain, & there perchance he lies. Prince Aemon is abroad, and woe is me Gone with too great a confidence I fear Upon my plot, which is defeated quite. The watch is doubled, and more strictly kept Then heretofore, no possibility To lay them all asleep, what he intended To work upon it, is quite frustrate now. Oh could I meet him but to let him know What has befallen. I'll range these fields to find him. Was this the sight was promised me at Thebes? Are these the triumphs of my dearest Lord? Thus to thy native country dost thou bid Argia welcome? thus dost thou requite. The entertainment, that kind Argos gave To thee a stranger? why preparest thou not The Theban palace to receive thy queen? But why complain I vainly? thou alas Art held a stranger to thy native Thebes, Nay more, a foe, to whom the cruel ground Denies that common bounty, which in death The meanest creatures challenge at her hand. But woe is me, 'twas I that caused thy fall, 'twas I that moved my father to this war, And all those Grecian Princes; happy else Mightst thou have lived at Argos still with me, And ne'er set foot on this accursed ground. Did I for this entreat those valiant Greeks To war with Thebes, to see my dearest Lord Thus all deformed with gore, trod down in dust, And covered over with filth? See, Madam, see The mortal wound yet gaping on his breast. Was this a brother's hand? but in that name I find thy guilt as much; I'll rather think Thou ne'er hadst any kindred, never brother, Nor other name of blood, which nature meant A name of love. For where are all their tears? Where is their sorrow now? if not in Thebes Where hast thou kindred? none laments but I; To me alone is Polynices dead. Where is thy mother, and thy sisters now? Where is that good Antigone, so famed For piety, whom thou so oft wouldst praise, And tell such pleasing stories of her virtue?
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)
Oh Thebes, a name Once deare to me, but now a word of horrour, And endleſſe ſorrow! yet giue leaue t' enterre My husbands hearſe, and I will loue thee ſtill, And leaue my heart for euermore to dwell On thy deare ground, behold with what attendance, What ſtate the great Adraſtus daughter comes To claime her right at Thebes; how poore a claime The wronged wife of Polynices makes. Tis not thy wealth, nor Cadmus ſtately throne, Nor crowne, nor ſepter that Argia claimes. I craue but mourning free, but death and duſt, And ſuch abhorred duſt, as thou diſdainſt To harbour louingly, beſtow but what Thou hat'ſt on me, and take the greateſt thankes A queene can giue; and thou beloued ghoſt Of my dead Lord, if through theſe fields thou wander, And loue the rites that I performe to night, Direct me where thy wronged body lyes. Madam this way, nearer the city walls My Lord was ſlaine, & there perchance he lyes. Prince Aemon is abroad, and woe is me Gone with too great a confidence I feare Vpon my plot, which is defeated quite. The watch is doubled, and more ſtrictly kept Then heretofore, no poſſiblity To lay them all aſleepe, what he entended To worke vpon it, is quite fruſtrate now. Oh could I meete him but to let him know What has befall'n. Ile range theſe fields to find him. Was this the ſight was promiſ'd me at Thebes? Are theſe the triumphs of my deareſt Lord? Thus to thy natiue countrey doſt thou bid Argia welcome? thus doſt thou requite. The entertainement, that kind Argos gaue To thee a ſtranger? why prepar'ſt thou not The Theban palace to receiue thy queene? But why complaine I vainely? thou alas Art held a ſtranger to thy natiue Thebes, Nay more, a foe, to whom the cruell ground Denyes that common bounty, which in death The meaneſt creatures challenge at her hand. But woe is me, t'was I that cauſ'd thy fall, T'was I that moou'd my father to this warre, And all thoſe Graecian Princes; happy elſe Mightſt thou haue liu'd at Argos ſtill with me, And ne're ſet foote on this accurſed ground. Did I for this entreat thoſe valiant Greekes To warre with Thebes, to ſee my deareſt Lord Thus all deform'd with gore, trod downe in duſt, And couer'd ore with filth? See, Madam, ſee The mortall wound yet gaping on his breaſt. Was this a brothers hand? but in that name I finde thy guilt as much; Ile rather thinke Thou nere hadd'ſt any kindred, neuer brother, Nor other name of blood, which nature meant A name of loue. For where are all their teares? Where is their ſorrow now? if not in Thebes Where haſt thou kindred? none laments but I; To me alone is Polynices dead. Where is thy mother, and thy ſiſters now? Where is that good Antigone, ſo fam'd Forpiety, whom thou ſo oft would'ſt praiſe, And tell ſuch pleaſing ſtories of her vertue?