Hercules Furens (Mad Hercules) (Seneca's First Tragedy) · chunk 24 of 28
Heywood, Jasper / Seneca, Lucius Annaeus · published 1561 · first performed or written 1561 (Annals) tragedy; literary play T20 Hercules: labours, suffering and virtue typicality 0.90 · 513 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T20: hercules, hercles, ioue, deianeira, alcides, hand, lo, death, skies, hell.
Thee guiltless make: in next estate it stands to hurtless hands, thy mischief not to know. Now strooken let with Hercules his hands thy bosoms sound: thine arms the world allow were wont to bear, let grievous strips now smite with conquring hand: & loud complaining cries Let th'air now here: let of dark pole & night the queen them hear, & who full fiercely lies That bears his necks in mighty chains fast bound, low lurking Cerberus in dep●…st cave. Let Chaos all with clamour sad resound, and of broad sea wide open wasting wave. And th' air that felt thy weapons better yet, But felt them though. The breasts with so great ills as these beset, with little stroke they must not beaten be. Let kingdoms three sound with one plaint & cry, and thou necks honowr, & defence to see, His arrow strong long hanged up on high, & quivers light, the cruel stripes now smite on his fierce back, his shoulders strong & stout let oaken club now strike, & post of might with knots full hard his breasts load all about. let even his weapons so great woes complain. Not you poor babes mates of your father's with cruel wound revenging kings again: (praise, not you your limbs in argos barriars plays, Are taught to turn with weapon strong to smite, & strong of hand: yet even now daring lo the weapon of the Scythian quiver light With steady hand to poise sent out from bow, and stags to pierce that save themselves by flight, and backs not yet full maned of cruel beast. To Styg●…ā havens go ye of shade & night, go hurtless souls, whom mischief hath oppressed Even in first porch of life but lately had, And father's fury. go unhappy kind O little children, by the way full sad Of tourneye known. Go, see the angry kings. WHat place is this? what region●… or of the world what coast? Where am I? under rise of sa●…ne, or bond else uttermost Of th'icy bear? or else doth here of sea of Hesperye The farthest ground appoint a bond●… for th'ocean sea to lie? What air draw we●… to weighed wight what ground is underset? Of truth we are returned from bell. whence in my house down bette See I these bloody bodies? hath not yet my mind of cast th'infernal shapes? but after yet return from hell at last Yet wander doth that helly heap before mine eyes to see? I am ashamed to grawnte, I quake, I know not what to me, I can not tell what grievous ill my mind before doth know. Where is my parent? where is she with goodly children's show My noble hearty stomakt spouse? why doth my left side lack The lions spoil? which way is gone the cover of my back? And self same bed full soft for sleep of Hercules also? Where are my shafts? where is my bow? Them from me living who cold pluck away? who taken hath the spoils so great as thes?
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)
Thee gyltlesse make: in next estate it stands to hurtles hands, thy mischief not to knowe. Now strooken let with Hercules his hands thy bosoms soūd: thyne armes y• world alow wer wōt to bear, let greuoꝰ strips now smite with cōquryng hād: & loude cōplainīg cries Let th'aire now here: let of dark pole & night the quene them heare, & who ful fiersely lyes That bears his necks in mighty chains fast boūd, low lurking Cerberus in depst caue. Let Chaos all with clamour sad resound, and of broade sea wide open wasting waue. And th' ayre that felt thy weapōs better yet, But felt them thowgh. The brestes with so greate yls as these beset, with litle stroake they must not beaten be. Let kyngdoms three soūd wt one plaīt & cry, and thow neckes honowr, & defence to se, His arrowe strong long hanged vp on hye, & quiuers light, ye cruel strypes now smyght on his firce back, his shoulders strōg & stowt let oken clubbe now stryke, & poaste of might wt knots full harde his brests loade al about. let euen his weapōs so greate woes cōplain. Not you poore babes mates of your fathers wt cruel woūd reuēging kings agaī: (praise, not you your lims in argos barriars plaies, Are taught to turn wt wepō strōg to smight, & strōg of hād: yet euē now daring loe the weapon of the Scythian quiuer light With steady hand to paise sēt out frō bowe, and stags to perse y• saue thē selues by flyght, and backes not yet full maend of cruel beast. To Stygā hauens goe ye of shade & night, goe hurtles souls, whō mischief hath opprest Euen in first porche of lyfe but lately hadde, And fathers furye. goe vnhappy kynde O little chyldren, by the way full sadde Of tourneye knowne. Goe, see the angrye kyngs. WHat place is this? what region or of the worlde what coaste? Where am I? vnder ryse of sane, or bonde els vttermoste Of th'ycy beare? or els doothe here of sea of Hesperye The fardest grownde appoynte a bond for th'ocean sea to lye? What ayre drawe we to weery wyght what grownde is vndersette? Of truthe we are returnde from bell. whence in my howse downe bette See I these bloudy bodyes? hath not yet my mynde of cast Thinfernall shapes? but after yet returne from hell at last Yet wander dooth that helly heape before myne eyes to see? I am ashamde to grawnte, I quake, I knowe not what to mee, I can not tell what greuous yll my mynde before dooth knowe. Where is my parent? where is shee with goodly chyldrens showe My noble hartye stomakt spowse? why dothe my lefte syde lacke The lyons spoyle? whiche waye is gone the couer of my backe? And selfe same bed full softe for sleepe of Hercules also? Where are my shaftes? where ys my bowe? Them from me lyuing who Cowlde plucke awaye? who taken hathe the spoyles so greate as thes?