Hercules Oetaeus (Hercules on Mount Oeta) (Seneca's Tenth Tragedy) · chunk 32 of 44
Seneca, Lucius Annaeus / Studley, John · published 1581 · first performed or written 1566 (Annals) tragedy T20 Hercules: labours, suffering and virtue typicality 0.87 · 484 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T20: hercules, hercles, ioue, deianeira, alcides, hand, lo, death, skies, hell.
If ugly crested Caucasus. In chain of iron link Should bind me as a groaning pray the greedy gripe to feed Yet from mine eyes it should not strain a broken tear indeed If wandering Symplegads would me wish either rock assail, To bide the brunt of double wrack my courage would not quail. Let Pindus tumbled be on me, huge Aemus let me have Or Athos rock in Thracian seas that breaks the weltering wave, And bode the bolts of thundering Ioue although th'unwieldy mass? Of all the world should fall on me and might be brought to pass That Phoebus flaming appletree should burn upon my grave No uncouth cry should force the mind of Hercles' thus to rave. Let meet a thousand savage beasts and rent me all at once Let Stymphal fowls with howling hoarse lay strokes upon my bones Or scrolling bull on tother side strike on with head and horn Or else of other serpents wild let all my parts be torn With roaring earthquakes, hugy lumps be puffed upon me With griping grief let all my limbs to nothing pined be Although I be to powder crushed I will with patience peace In spite of beasts or bruising blows my sighs and tears shall cease It is not son the woman's bane that in thy bones doth boil But festering tears and bruising knocks of thy continual toil The wrinches old with aching pangs begin to smart anew. O where is death where is he now? of all that I do rue: Can any witness what it is? let death now bend his bow A naked hand is strong enough to make me stoop full low Let any wight in all the world attempt to set on me I warrant him, approach let him, Ah wretched might I be This wayward agony hath take his perfect wits away. Have hence his tools, and eke his shafts for danger hence convey. His ruddy gills that glow like fire some mischief do pretend. To shroud myself (alas) into what corner shall I wend? This malady a frenzy is, this only is the mean To conquer Hercules, why then do I as doting quean Thus fall to tears and seek to shrink, may be that he will have, Alcmena's hand to give the stroke, to bring him to the grave. But die he in a Murrain's name, ere I for coward will Such deadly penance be enjoined, that on my doings still, His heinous hand may vaunt itself, lo how the pangs full deep, With stuggling ceased, do hind the purple veins with deadly sleep, And beating sore lift up and down his faint and panting breast: If I O Gods of this my noble Child be dispossessed: Be gracious yet, and for the world some lusty champion save. Rid his annoy and let his limbs again their courage have.
seed 43: T17 · seed 44: T19 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
If ougly greſted Cauaſue. In chayne of yrone linke Should bynd me as agoning pray the greedy grype to feede Yet from myne eyes it ſhould not ſtrayne a brokē teare indeede If wandring Symplegads would me wiſh eyther rocke aſſaile, To byde the brunt of double wracke my courage would not quayle. Let Pindus tumbled be on me, houge Aemus let me haue Or Athos rocke in Thracian ſeas that breakes the weltring waue, And bode the boultes of thondring Ioue although thunweildy maſſe▪ Of all the world ſhould fal on mee and might be brought to paſſe That Phoebus flaming apeltree ſhould burne vppon my graue No vncouth crye ſhould force the mynd of Hercles thus to raue. Let meete a thouſand ſauage beaſtes and rent me al atonce Let Stymphal oules with houling hoarſe lay ſtrokes vppon my bones Or ſcrowling bul on thother ſyde ſtrike on with head and horne Or els of other ſerpentes wilde let al my partes be orne With roring earthquakes, hougy lumpes be puffed vppon me With griping greefe let all my limmes to nothing pyned bee Although I be to pouder cruſht I wil with pacience peace In ſpite of beaſtes or bruſing blowes my ſighes and teares ſhal ſeace It is not ſonne the womans bane that in thy bones doth boile But feſtring teares and brooſing knockes of thy continual toyle The wrinches old with aking panges begin to ſmart anew. O where is death where is hee now? of all that I do rew: Can any witnes what it is? let death now bend his bow A naked hand is ſtronge ynough to make mee ſtowpe ful low Let any wight in al the worlde attempt to ſet on mee I warrant him, approch let him, Ah wretched might I bee This wayward agony hath take his perfit wits away. Haue hence his tooles, and eake his ſhaftes for daunger hence couay. His ruddy gills that glow like fier ſome miſchiefe doe pretend. To ſhrowde my ſelfe (alas) into what corner ſhall I wend? This mallady a frenſy is, this onely is the meane To conquer Hercules, why then doe I as doting quean Thus fall to teares and ſeeke to ſhrynke, may bee that hee will haue, Alcmenas hand to giue the ſtroke, to bring him to the graue. But dye he in a Murreynes name, ere I for cowarde will Such deadly penaunce bee enioynde, that on my doings ſtill, His baynous hand may vaunt it ſelfe, loe how the pangues full deepe, With ſtuggling ceaſt, doe hinde the purple vaynes with deadly ſleepe, And beating ſore lift vp and downe his faynt and panting breaſt: If I O Gods of this my noble Childe bee diſpoſſeſt: Be gracious yet, and for the worlde ſome luſty champion ſaue. Rid his annoy and let his limmes agayne theyr courage haue.