Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
Then let us now employ their powerful help. What place do we design for our black work? There is within Cithaeron's hollow side A dark, and squalid cave, where day ne'er peeped, Nor ever light, but light by magic made Shot through that dismal air; pale mouldy filth Bred there by dreary night o'erspreads the place. The mouth of Taenarus, that baleful bound Twixt heaven and hell, appears not half so black. To this sad cave th' accustomed fiends ascend, And think themselves still in their proper place. But Ghosts, that newly past Avernus' lake, Shun the ascent, and though by us invoked, Tremble to enter to that place unknown, And find a hell more horrid than their own. Then thither let us bear this carcase hence. No, no, we scorn the helps of that dark place; Nor is it honour to our art to find, But make a darkness fit to serve our ends. We that can force a Magic light to glide Through closest vaults, can force in spite of day A mist of night to rise, which all the rays Of burning Phoebus shall want power to scatter. Oh would it were not night, but that the sun Rode in his height of strength; how proudly then Might we perform our rites, and make it known, We use not nature's darkness but our own. Let's go no further then; this place shall serve. 3. Apply your ointments to the body, whilst I Prepare, and speak a charm shall quickly call Th' affrighted soul back to his mansion. My joints begin to tremble, and I fear As much the means of knowledge, as th' event Of what I came to know. How full of black And baleful horror is this art of theirs? Would I were well from hence; let me hereafter. Rather remain in endless ignorance Then purchase knowledge by such means as these. Sad King of night, whose baleful Monarchy The still repaired ruins of mankind Through every age increase; that griev'st alone To see the heavenly gods for ever free From death's assaults, and thy subjection. Old formless Chaos, thou that wouldst deface Nature's whole beauty, quite disjoined her fabric, And swallow up in dark confusion Ten thousand worlds; thou squalid ferryman Of still Avernus; thou three-headed porter; You snake-haired sisters, punishers of guilt, As you would gain our aid, or fear our threats, Whip back again into this upper world That new-fled soul, which did of late inhabit This pale and ghastly seat, but if in vain On you I call, thou wretched wandering Ghost, Not yet transported o'er the burning stream, But doomed to exile for an hundred years, If true rewards can tempt thee, once again Enter thy ancient prison, and in lieu Of that shore penance, I will make thee free (Releasing all thy tedious banishment) Of fair Elysium; with such powerful rites I'll give thee burial, as no Magic spells, Nor incantations shall for ever call Thee back, nor trouble thine eternal rest. Relate to Creon King of Thebes the fate That shall attend his reign.
seed 43: T32 · seed 44: T26 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Then let vs now employ their powerfull helpe. What place doe we deſigne for our blacke worke? There is within Cithaerons hollow ſide A darke, and ſquallid caue, where day nere peep'd, Nor euer light, but light by magike made Shot through that diſmall aire; pale mouldy filth Bred there by drery night oreſpredds the place. The mouth of Taenarus, that balefull bound Twixt heauen and hell, appears not halfe ſo blacke. To this ſad caueth' accuſtom'd fiends aſcend, And thinke themſelues ſtill in their proper place. But Ghoſts, that newly paſt Auernus lake, Shun the aſcent, and though by vs inuok'd, Tremble to enter to that place vnknowne, And finde a hell more horrid then their owne. Then thither let vs beare this carcaſſe hence. No, no, we ſcorne the helps of that darke place; Nor is it honour to our art to finde, But make a darkneſſe fit to ſerue our ends. We that can forcea Magike light to glide Through cloſeſt vaults, can force in ſpite of day A miſt of night to riſe, which all the rayes Ofburning Phoebus ſhall want power to ſcatter. Oh would it were not night, but that the ſunne Rode in his height of ſtrength; how proudly then Might we performe our rites, and make it knowne, We vſe not natures darkneſſe but our owne. Lett's goe no further then; this place ſhall ſerue. 3. Apply your ointments to the body, whileſt I Prepare, and ſpeake a charme ſhall quickly call Th' affrighted ſoule backe to his manſion. My ioynts beginne to tremble, and I feare As much the meanes of knowledge, as th' euent Of what I came to know. How full of blacke And balefull horrour is this art of theirs? Would I were well from hence; let me hereafter. Rather remaine in endleſſe ignorance Then purchaſe knowledge by ſuch meanes as theſe. Sad King of night, whoſe balefull Monarchy The ſtill repaired ruines of mankinde Through euery age encreaſe; that greiu'ſt alone To ſee the heauenly gods for euer free From death's aſſaults, and thy ſubiection. Old formleſſe Chaos, thou that would'ſt deface Natures whole beauty, quite diſioint her fabrike, And ſwallow vp in darke confuſion Ten thouſand worlds; thou ſquallid ferriman Of ſtill Auernus; thou three-headed porter; You ſnake-hair'd ſiſters, puniſhers of guilt, As you would gaine our aid, or feare our threats, Whip back againeinto this vpper world That new-fled ſoule, which did of late inhabite This pale and ghaſtly ſeate, but if in vaine On you I call, thou wretched wandering Ghoſt, Not yet tranſported ore the burning ſtreame, But doom'd to exile for an hundred yeares, If true rewards can tempt thee, once againe Enter thy ancient priſon, and in lieu Of that ſhore pennance, I will make thee free (Releaſing all thy tedious baniſhment) Of faire Eliſium; with ſuch powerfull rites Ile giue thee buryall, as no Magicke ſpells, Nor incantations ſhall for euer call Thee bakce, nor trouble thine eternall reſt. Relate to Creon King of Thebes the fate That ſhall attend his reigne.