Linguistic DNA - Concept Modelling Demonstrator

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	word_n	wrath_n	wrought_v	18	3	7.3768	4	false

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A11912	The seuenth tragedie of Seneca, entituled Medea: translated out of Latin into English, by Iohn Studley, student in Trinitie Colledge in Cambridge; Medea. English	Seneca, Lucius Annaeus, ca. 4 B.C.-65 A.D.; Studley, John, 1545?-1590?	1566 (1566)	STC 22224; ESTC S110871	33,623	103

departe vnto my selye chyldren saye These lessons of my last adewe and graunt to me the space With tender grype of collyng laste theyr louyng lymmes â—embrace This wil be comforte to my harte yet at the latter woâ—rde I aske nomore but onlye that you shuld me thys afoorde If eger anguysh cause my tongue to cast out woordes vnkynde Let al thyng flye let nothyng be Engraued in your mynde But let remâ—mbrauâ—ce otherwhyle of me to touche your thought Let other thynges be wypte awaye that byle of wrath hath wrought Ia Â¶ I haue forgotten euery whit god graunt thou may of shake These surging qualmes of frownced mynde mylder mayest it make For quyetnes doth worke theyr ease that dented are wyth woe Me. Â¶ What is he slylâ—e slypt and gon falles out the matter so O Iason doest thou sneake awaye not hauyng mynde of me Nor of those former great good turns that I haue done for the Wyth the now am I cleane forgott but I wyll bryng about That from thy carefull sighing minde shall not be banysht out Apply to bryng thys to effect call home thy wyttes agayne And all thy wylie fetches farre eache artifycyall trayne Thys is the perfect fruyt that maye to the of myschefe sprynge To presuppose that myschefe is not graft in anye thynge Scante haue I oportunytâ—e for my pretensed guyle Because we are mystrusted sore But trye I wyll the whyle To set vppon them in such sort as none can deme my sleyghte Marche furth now venture on fall to bothe what lyeth in thy myght And also what doth passe thy power O fayth full nourse and mate Of all my heauye hart breakyng and dyuers cursed fate Come helpe our symple meane deuice remaynyng yet I haue A robe of Pall the present that our heauenlye graundsyre gaue Chefe monument of Cholchis I le whiche Phaebus did bestowe On Etas for a pledge that hym hys father hâ— myght knowe A precyous fulgent gorget eake that brauelye glytters bryght And wyth a seamlye shynyng seame of golden thrydes is dyght Through wrought betwene the row of pirles do stand in borders round Wherwyth my golden crispen lockes is wonted to be crounde My lytle chyldren they shall beare these presentes to the Bryde That fyrste wyth slybber â—â—abbar sosse of chauntmentes shal be tryed Request the ayde of Hecate in redynes prepare The lamentable sacryfyce vpon the blaâ—dye Aare Enforce the fyers catchyng houlde vpon the rafters hye With crackling nois of flamie sparkes rebounde in azur skye Â¶ Chorus NO fyers force nor rumbâ—yng cage of boysteous blustryng wynde No darte shot whyâ—ling in the skyesâ— such terrour to the mynde Can dryue as when the â—reâ—ull wyfe dothe boyle in burnynge hate Depryued of her spoâ—sall bed and comforte of her mate Nor where the stormye southerne winde wyth dankysh dabbye face Of horye wynter sendeth out the gusshyng shooores apace where veighment Isters waumbling stream comes walterynge downe amayn Forbyddyng both the bankes to meâ—â—e and cannoâ— ofte contayne Hym selfe wâ—thin hys channels scouâ—e but further breakes hys waye Nor Rodanus whoâ—e russhyng streame dothe launche into the sea Or when amydde the floured sprynge wyth hotter burnynge sonne The wynters snowes disolued with heate downe to the ryuers ronne The clottred toppe of Haemus hill to water thynne dothe turne Such desperate gogyn flame is wrathe that inwardly doth burne And modest rule regardeth not nor brydels can abyde Nor dreading death doth wysh on diâ—te of naked blade to slyde O Gods be gracyous vnto vs for pardon we do craue That hym who tamde the scuffling waues vouchsafe ye wolde to saue But Neptune yet the Lorde of Sâ—as wyth frownyng face wyll lower That ouer hys second scepter men to tryumphe haue the power The boy that rashlye durste attâ—mpt that great vâ—weldye charge Of Phaebus euerlastynge carte and â—ouyng out at large Not bearyng in hys recklesse breste hys fathers warnynges wyse Was burned wyth the flames whych he dyd scatter in the skyes None knew the costlye glymsyng glades where stragglynge Phaeton rode Passe not the path where people safe In formar â—yme haue trode O fondâ—ynge wylfull wanton boye do not dyssolue the frame Of heauen syth Ioue with sacred hande hath halowed the â—rame Who rowde wyth valyante oaâ—es toughâ— that were for Argo made Hath powled naâ—ed Pelâ—on mounte of thycke compacted shade Who entered hathe the flerynge rockes and sâ—rched oâ—t the tâ—yle And tyrynge trauels of the sâ—asâ— and hath on saluage soyle â—nyt fast hys stretched cable rope and goinge fourthe to lande To cloyn awaye thâ— foren golde with gredye snatchyng haâ—de Vnto the seas because that he transgresâ— theyr lâ—wes deuyne By thys vnluckye ende of hys he payes hys forfeyte fyne The troubled seas of tâ—eyr vnrestâ— for vengeaunce howle and wâ—epe Syr Typhis who dyd conquer fyrstâ— the daungâ—r of the deepâ— Hath yeilded vp the conâ—ynge rule of hys vnwâ—ldye stâ—rne To such a guyde as for that vse hath nede as yet to lerne who gyuyng vp hys gohste aloofe â—â—om at hys natyue lande In forreyn â—ore lyes buryed vylâ— wyth durtye soddes in sande He syts amonge the flyttrynge soules that straungers to hym weare And Aulis Isle that in her mynde her masters losse dothe beare Helde in the shâ—ppes to stand and wâ—ylâ— in crokyng narrow nooke That Orpheus Calâ—â—iops sonne who stâ—ydâ— the runnynge bâ—ookâ— whyle he recordes on heaâ—â—nly Harpâ— wyth twancklynge fynger â—yne The wynâ—e â—ayâ— downe his pipling ã€ˆâ—Šã€‰ his harmonye diuinâ— Procurde the woods to styr thâ—m selues and trees in eraynes alonge Cam furth with byrds that held their laies and lystned to hys songe wyth lyms on sunder rent in feâ—lde of Thrace he lyeth ded Vp to the top of Heber flood eke halâ—d was hys hed Gone downe he is to Stygian damâ—es whych seene he had before And Tartar boylyng pyttes from whencâ— retâ—rne he shall no more Alcydes bangyng bat dyd brynge the Northerne laddes to grounde To Achelo of sundry shapes he gaue hys mortall wounde Yet after he could purchase peece both vnto sea and lande` And after Ditis dungeon black rent open by hys hand He lyuyng spred hym selfe alongâ— on burnynge Oâ—tas hyll Hys members in hys propâ—r flame the wretche dyd thrâ—ste to spyll Hys blood he brewd wyth Nestors blood and lost hys lothsome lyfe By traytrus gyfte that poysoned shyrte receaued of hys wyâ—e wyth tuske of brystlâ—d groyâ—yng bore Anceus lyms were torne O Melâ—ager wycked wyght to graue by thee â—ere borne Thy mothers brethren twayne and she for it wyth ruthfull hande Hâ—th wrought thy dolefull destenye to burne thy fatall brande The rash attemptyng Argonantes deserued all the death That Hylas whom Alcides loste beâ—eft of fadyng brâ—aâ—h That springall whych in sowsyng ã€ˆâ—Šã€‰ of watâ—rs drowned was Go now ye lustye bloods the seas with doubtfull lot to passe Though Idmon had the calking skyll of destenyes before The Seâ—pent made hym lâ—ue hys lyfâ— in tombe of Liby shoore And Mopsus that to other men could well theyr fates

inuade What durst my rude vnskillfull hand assaye that was of wayght What could the mallyce of a gyrle inuent her foes to bayte Styll conuersant with wicked feates Medea am I made My blunt and dulled braynes hath so ben beat about this trade O so I ioy I ioy that I smot of my brothers hed And slasht his members ofâ—eak that from parents â—and I fled And filched haue the priuy fleece lo Mars that sacred was It glads my hart that I to bring ould Pelias death to passe Haue set his douggters all on worke O griefe picke out awaye Not any guilt thou shalt with vnacqueinted hand assaie Against whom wrath entendest thou to bend thyne Irefull might Or with what weapon dost thou mean thy traiterous foes to smite I know not what my wrathfull minde consulted hath within And to bewraie it to him selfe I dare not yet begin O rash and vnaduised foole I make to hastie spede O that my foe had gotten of his harlots bodie seede But what so euer thou by him enioyest suppose the same To be Creusas babes of them let her euioy the name This vengeauÌ„ce this doth lyke me wel good reason is their why The last attempt of yls thou must with stomacke stout applie Alas ye lytell selie fooles that erst my children were The plaging price of fathers fault submyt your selues to beare O horrour huge with sodayne stroke my hart doth ouercom with ysie dullynge colde conieald my members all benum My shiueryng lims appauled sore for gastly feare do quake Aâ—d banisht rage of malice hot begins it selfe to flake The hatefull hart of wife against her Spouse hath yelded place And pityous mothers mercy mild restoreth natures face O shall I shed their giltlesse blood shall I the frame vnfould Of that whiche louyng natures hande hath wrought in me her mould O dotyâ—g fury chaunge thy minde conceiue a better thought Let not this haynous sauage dede by meanes of me be wrought What cryme haue they poore fooles coÌ„mit for which they shuld abye Upon theyr father Iason ryght all blott of blame shuld lye Medea yet theyr mother I am worser far then he Tush let them frankly go to wracke no kith nor kyn to me They aâ— dispache them out of hand hould houldâ— my babes they be God wot most harmelesse lambes they ar no cryme nor fault haue they Alas they be mere innocentes I do not this denaye So was my brother whom I slew o falce reuoltyng mynd Why doest thou staggryng to and fro suche chaunge of fancyes fynde Why is my face be sprent with teares what makes me falter so That wrath loue with striuing thoughtes do lead me to and fro Such fyghting fancyes bickeryng stormes my swaruyng mind detar As when betwene y e wrestling windes is raysed wranglyng war Eche where the tumblynge walloinge waues ar hoist and reared hye Amyd the iustlyng swolues of seas that whot in â—urye frye Euen so my hart w t strugling thoughts now synkes now swells amaâ—n Wrath somtyme chaseth vertue out and vertue wrath agayne O yeld the yeld a grysyng grefe to vertue yeld thâ— place Thou onely comfort of our stocke in this afflicted case Come hether comdere loued impe with collyng me imbrace While that by me your mother dere swete Boyes ye are enioyed So longe god graunt your father may you kepe from harme vncloyd Exile and flight approche on me And they shall by and by Be puld perforce out of myne armes with vapourd weping eye Sore languishing with moorning hart yet let them go to graue Before â—heir fathers face as they before their mothers haue Now rancorus grefe with firy fits begins to boyle agayne The quenched coles of dedly hate do fressher force attayne The rustye rancour harbred longe within my cancred brest Startes vp and stirres my hand anew in myscheife to be prest O that the rablement of brattes whych swarmde aboute the syde Of Niobe that scornefull dame who perysht by her pryde Had taken lyfe out of hys lymmes o that the fates of heauen A fruytefull mother had me made of chyldren seuen and seuen My barreyne wombe â—or my reuenge hath yeilded lytle store Yet for my sire and brother twayne I haue theyr nedes no more whoÌ„ seke this rufflyng rowt of feendes wyth gargell vysage dyght Where wil they deale their stripes or whom wyth whyps of fyer smite Or whom wyth cruell scorching brand and Stygian faggot fell wyth mischeife great to cloy entendes this armye black of hell A choppyng Adder gan to hisse wyth wrethynges wrapped round As soone as dyd the lasshyng whyp â—â—erte out wyth yerkyng sound whom bumping with thy rapping post Megeta wilt thou crush whose ghost doth here mishapt froÌ„ hell with scattered members rush My slautred brothers ghost it is that vengeaunce coms to craue Accordyng to his dire request due vengeaunce shall he haue But flap thou fearce the fierbrandes full dasshed in myne eyes Dig rent scrape burne squeaâ— theÌ„ out loe ope my brest it lies To fightyng furyes bobbyng strokes O brother brother bid These royles y â— prease to worrey mee them selues away to rid Down to the silent soules alowe Not takynge any care Let me be left heare by my selfe alone and do not spare To bast and capperclaw these armes that drewe the blody blade To quenche the furyes of thy sprite that thus do me inuade With this rigâ—t hand the sacrifyce on thalter shal be made What meanes this sudden tramplyng noyse a bande of men in Armes Come bustlyng towarde vs that mâ— wyll cloy wyth â—eadly harmes To ende thys slaughter set â—ppon I wyll my selfe conuaye Up to the garrets of our house come Nurce wyth me awaye Bestowe thy bodye hence wyth me from daunger of our foes Now thus my mynde on myscheife set thou must thy selfe dyspose Let not the flyckeryng fame prayse in darkenesse be exilde Of stomack stouteâ— that you dyd vse in murtherynge of thy chyld Proclayme in peoples eares the prayse of cruell blodye hande Ia. Â¶ If any faythfull man here be whom ruyne of hys lande And slaughter of hys prynce do cause in pensyue harte to bleede step furth that ye may take the wretch that wrought thys deadly dede Heare heare ye iolye champyons lay lode wyth weapons heare Haue now hoyst vp this house froÌ„ low foundacyon vp it reare Me. Â¶ Now now my scepter guilt I haue recouered once agayne My fathers wronges reuenged are and eke my brother slayne The gouldens cattels Fleece returnd is to my natyue lande Possessyon of my realme I haue reclaymed to my hande Come home is my viâ—gynitie that whilom went a straye O Gods as good as I could wysshe o ioyfull weddyng daye Go shrowde thy selfe in darkenesse dim dyspacht I haue thys feate Yet vengeance is not done inough to coole our thrystye heate O soule why dost thou make delaye why dost thou doubtyng stande Go foreward with it yet thou mayst whyle doinge is thy hande The wrath that might should

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