Hercules Oetaeus (Hercules on Mount Oeta) (Seneca's Tenth Tragedy) · chunk 44 of 44
Seneca, Lucius Annaeus / Studley, John · published 1581 · first performed or written 1566 (Annals) tragedy T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm typicality 0.82 · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
Should cloyne his Sceptre from his hand, & pluck him from his front? For I am sure I saw thee laid upon the burning trees: And from thy Corpse the flame and sparks against the welkin flies: That sure thou wast to poulder burn, and feeble life was lost: But sure the deeps and pits of hell did not lock up thy ghost. Why were the devils afraid of thee? why quaked Ditis grim? And did thy noble ghost seem such a ghastly bug to him? The dampy dikes of Cocytus could not keep me from light. Nor Charon's fusty musty Barge transported hath my sprite, Now Myther more once haue I seeme the of hell, And all the that dwell. That mortal mould I took of you to nought the flames have fried: Heaven hath the substance that I took of Ioue: in fire yours died. And therefore rouse your plaintiff's tears, which parents use to shed, When wretchedly they wail their sons, that dastardly are dead. Thus vulgar varlets weep: Lo virtue hopes the Stars to get: But fainting fear stil on death, from heaven where I am set, You hear my voice: Eurystheus now shall bide the deadly push With chariot sway his cracked skull ye shall on sunder crush Now must I hence advance my Ghost up to the rolling skies Once more I daunt the devils, and do the goblins grim aggrise But stay awhile my son: he fades and shrinketh from my sight Advanced he is among the stars: doth this my charmed Spirit Dote in a trance & or do I dream that I have seen my son A troubled mind can scant believe the things he seeth done. But now I see thou art a God possessing heaven for aye. I see it sure. I will to Thebes thy triumphs to display. LO virtue scapes the ghastly shades of hell, Ye noble peers that shine in virtue bright Dire destiny cannot constrain you dwell Among the glooming glades of ugly might, Nor sink your fame in loathsome lakes of spite. But when deaths day draws on the gasping hour, You purchased glory shall direct your right To find the passage to the heavenly bower. When flesh doth fall, and breathing body dies Then (Fame the child of Virtue) doth arise. But sluggish sots that sleep their days in sloth, Or give their golden age to loathe some lust. Them and their names the wretches bury both, whenas their bones shall shrined be in dust: The clay shall cover their carcases forlorn, As though such caitiffs never had been borne. But if that aught of memory they have. In thafter age it shallbe filthy shame. The gnawing worms torment not so in grave Their rotten flesh, as tongues do tear their name, That daily killed to further mischief lives. Lo both the fruits, that vice and virtue gives.
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)
Should cloyne his Scepter from hand, & pluck him from his front? For I am ſure I ſawe thee layde vpon the burning trees: And from thy Corps the ſlame and ſparkes agaynſt the welkin flyes: That ſure thou waſt to poldee burne, and feeble lyfe was loſt: But ſure the deepes and pits of did not lock vp thy ghoſt. Why were the deuills alrayde of thee? why quaked Ditis grim? And did thy noble ghoſt ſeeme ſuch a gaſtly bug to him? The dampy of Cocitas coulde not keepe me from light. Nor Carons fuſty muſty Barge iramſported hath my ſprite, Now Myther more once haue I ſeeme the of hell, And all the that dwell. That mortall moulde I tooke of you to nought the flames haue fryed: Heauen hath the ſubſtaunce that I tooke of Ioue: in fier yours died. And therefore rawſe your playntius teare, which parents vſe to ſhed, When wretchedly they wayle their ſonnes, that daſtardly are dead. Thus vulgar varlets weepe: Ioe vertue hopes the Starres to get: But faynting feare on death, from heauen where I am ſet, You heare my voyce: Euriſteus now ſhal byde the deadly puſh With charyot ſway his cracked ſcull ye ſhal on ſunder cruſh Now muſt I hence aduaunce my Ghoſt vp to the rolling skyes Once more I daunt the deuilles, and do the goblins grim aggriſe But ſtay awhile my ſonne: he fades and ſhrinketh from my ſight Aduaunſt he is among the ſtarres: doth this my charmed Spirite Dote in a traunce & or do I dreame that I haue ſeene my ſonne A troubled mynd can ſcante beleue the thinges he ſeeth done. But now I ſee thou art a God poſſeſſing heauen for aye. I ſee it ſure. I wil to Thebes thy triumphes to diſplay. LO vertue ſcapes the gaſtly ſhades of hell, Ye noble peeres that ſhyne in vertue bright Dire deſteny cannot conſtrayne you dwell Among the glowming glades of ougly might, Nor ſinke your fame in loathſome lakes of ſpyte. But when deaths day drawes on the gaſping howre, You purchaſt glory ſhall direct your right To fynd the paſſage to the heauenly bower. When fleſh doth fall, and breathing body dies Then (Fame the child of Vertue) doth ariſe. But ſluggiſh ſottes that ſleepe their dayes in ſloth, Or geue their golden age to loath ſome luſt. Them and their names the wretches bury both, When as their bones ſhall ſhryned be in duſt: The clay ſhall couer their carkaſes forlorne, As though ſuch kaytiſſes neuer had bene borne. But if that ought of memory they haue. In thafter age it ſhalbe filthy ſhame. The gnawing wormes torment not ſo in graue Their rotten fleſh, as tounges do teare their name, That dayly kild to further miſchiefe liues. Lo both the fruites, that vice and virtue giues.