Hercules Oetaeus (Hercules on Mount Oeta) (Seneca's Tenth Tragedy) · chunk 42 of 44
Seneca, Lucius Annaeus / Studley, John · published 1581 · first performed or written 1566 (Annals) tragedy T20 Hercules: labours, suffering and virtue typicality 0.85 · 492 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T20: hercules, hercles, ioue, deianeira, alcides, hand, lo, death, skies, hell.
(That, for thy sake I do not know where entertained to be). The courtesy of the Cleonies I will attempt and fire Whom from the Lion rescued he and made the monster die, Or shall I too th'Arcadians go where thou didst sleay the boar Where thy renown remain 〈...〉 of great exploits before, The perilous serpent Hydra hear was slain there fell he dead, That with the flesh of slaughtered men his greedy horses fed And yond's were the stymphal birds compelled to leave the say And tamed by the handy toil, now doth the Lion fry, And belketh stifling fumes in heavens while thou liest in thy grove O if mankind but any spark of thankful nature have Let all men prcace to succour me Alcmene thy mother dear. What if among the Thracians I venture to appear, Or on the banks of Heber flood? thy prowess everywhere Hath succoured all these soylts: for erst in Thrace thou did put down The fleshy meangres of the King and put him from his crown, By slaughter of the savage print the people live in peace, Where didst thou deny thy help to make turmoiling cease? Unhappy mother that I am a shrine where may I have To shroud thy corpse: for all the world may strive about thy grave What temple may be meet to shrine thy relics safe for aye, And hallowed bones? what nations unto the ghost shall pray? O noble son what sepulchre what hearse may serve for thee? The world itself through flying flame thy fatal tomb shallbe: Who taketh here this poise from me his ashes which I bear Why loath I them? embrace his bones keep still his ashes here, And they shall be a shield to thee his dust that thee defend, To see his shadow, princes proud for fear shall stoop and bend O mother of noble Hercules forbear your dreary plaint: His valiant death thus should not be with female tears attaint. Ye should not languish thus for him, nor count him wretched man In dying, who by noble mind prevent his destiny can. His chivalry forbiddeth us with tears him to bewail: The stately stomach doth not sloupe: they sigh whose hearts do fail. (I'll moan no more: behold, behold. most wretched mother I) Have lost the shield of land end seed, where glittering Phoebe displays With whirling wheels in foamy gulfs, and red and purple rays The loss of many sons I may lament in him alone. Through him I lifted Kings to frown, when crown myself had none Aid never any mother lived, that needed less to crave. Of Gods, than I. I asked nought while I my son might have. What could not Hercles' tender love like on me to bestow? What God would once deny to grant, or what he held me fro, I was in my power to ask and have. If Ioue would aught deny,
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)
, for thy I do not know where entertaynd to bee). The word▪ of the Cleonies I will attempt and fyre Whom from the Lyon reſcwde he and made the monſter dye, Or ſhal I too th'Archadians go where thou didſt ſle the boare Where thy renowne remaine of great exploytes before, The parlous Hydra heare was ſlayue there fel he dead, That with the fleſh of ſlaughtred men his greedy horſes fedde And yondes were the Stimphall burdes compelde to leaue the ſaye And tamed by the handy toyle, now doth the Lyon frie, And belketh fumes in heauens whyle thou lieſt in thy groue O if mankynd but any ſparke of thankful nature haue Let all men prcace to ſuccour mee Alcmene thy mother deare. What if among the Thracians I venter to appeare, Or on the of Hebet floud? thy proweſſe euery where Hath ſuccoured all theſe ſoylts: for earſt in Thrace thou did put downe The fleſhy meangres of the King and put him from his crowne, By ſlaughter of the saluage printe the people liue in peace, Where diddeſt thou denye thy helpe to make tormoyling ceaſe? Vnhappy mother that I am a ſhryne where may I haue To ſhrowde thy coarſe: for all the world may ſtrine aboute thy graue What temple may be meete to ſhryne thy reliques ſafe for aye, And hallowed bones? what nations vnto the ghoſt ſhal pray? O noble ſonne what ſepulchere what hearſe may ſerue for thee? The world it ſelfe through flying flame thy fatal tombe ſhalbe: Who taketh here this payſe from me his aſhes which I beare Why loath I them? imbrace his bones keepe ſtil his aſhes here, And they ſhal be a ſhield to thee his duſt that thee defend, To ſee his ſhadow, princes prowde for feare ſhal ſtoupe and bend O mother of noble Hercules forbeare your dreary playnt: His valiant death thus ſhould not be with femal teares attaynt. Ye ſhould not languiſh thus for him, nor count him wretched man In dying, who by noble mynd preuent his deſtny can. His cheuatry forbyddeth vs with teares him to bewayle: The ſtately ſtomacke doth not ſloupe: they ſigh whoſe hartes do fayle. (Ile mone no more: behold, behold. moſt wretched mother I) Haue loſt the ſheild of land end ſead, where glittring Phoebe diſplayes With whirling wheeles in foamy gulphes, and red and purple rayes The loſſe of many ſonnes I may lament in him alone. Through him I lifted Kings to frowne, when crown my ſelfe hadnone Ayd neuer any mother liude, that neded leſſe to craue. Of Gods, then I. I aſked naught while I my ſonne might haue. What could not Hercles tender loue like on me to beſtow? What God would once den to or what he held me froe, I was in my powre to aſke and haue. If Ioue would ought denye,