Hercules Furens (Mad Hercules) (Seneca's First Tragedy) · chunk 25 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 0.79 · 503 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T20: hercules, hercles, ioue, deianeira, alcides, hand, lo, death, skies, hell.
And who was he that feared not even sleep of Hercules? To see my conqueror me likes, it likes me him to know: Rise victor up, what new son hath my father gotten now Heaven being left? at birth of whom might ever stayed be A longer night, than was in mine? what mischief do I see? My children lo do lie on ground with bloody slaughter stain: My wife is kyllde: what Lycus doth the kingdom yet obtain? Who durst so heinous guilts as these At Thebes take in hand When Hercles is returned? who so Ismenus waters land, Who so Actaeon's fields, or who with double seas beset The shaken Pelops kingdoms dost of Dardan dwell on yet, Help me: of cruel slaughter show who may the author be. Let rage my ire on all: my foe he is, who so to me Shows not my foe. dost thou yet hid Alcides' victor lie? Come forth, even whether thou revenge the cruel chariots his Of bloody Thracian king, or if thou Geryons cattles quite, Or lords of Libya, no delay there is with thee to fight. Behold I naked stand, although even with why weapons lo Thou me unarmed set upon. wherefore f●…eeth Theseus so And eke my father from my sight? their faces why hide they? Defer your weepings, and who did my wife and children slay Thus all at ones, me tell. Wherefore O father doe thou whushte? But tell thou Theseus, but Theseus with thy accustonide trust. Each of them silent hides away their bashful cowntnawnces, And privily they shed their tears. In so great ills as thes, Of what ought we ashamed to be? doth ruler yet of might Of Argos town, or hateful band Of sowldyars ap●…e to fight Of Lycus dying, us oppress with such calamity? By praise of all my noble acts I do desire of thee O father, and of thy great name approved to me alway The prosperous power, declare to me, who did my how should slay? Whose pray lay I? Let thus thyve ills in silence overpass. That I should unrevenged be? Revenge oft hurtful was. Did ever man so grevows ills without revenge sustain? Whos'euer greater feared. Then these, O father yet again May any greater thing, or else More grevows feared be? How great a part is it thou worst, Of thy calamity? Take mercy father, lo I lift to thee my humble hands. What meaneth this? my hand fleeth back, some privy guilt here stands. Whence comes this blood? or what doth mean flowing with death of chyllde The shaft, enbrewde with slaughter onc●… of Lerney monster kyllde? I see my weapons now, the hand I seek no more to wit. Whose hand could bend this bow but mine? or what right arm but it Could string the bow, that unto me Even scantly doth obey? To you I turn: O father dear, is this my guilt I pray? They healed their peace: it is mine own.
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)
And who was he that fearyd not euen sleepe of Hercules? To see my conquerour me lykes, yt lykes me hym to knowe: Ryse victor vp, what newe sonne hath my father gotten nowe Heauen beeynge left? at byrthe of whome myght euer stayed bee A longer nyght, then was in myne? what myschiefe do I see? My chyldren loe do lye on grownde with bloodie slawghter stayne: My wyfe is kyllde: what Lycus dothe the kyngedome yet obtayne? Who durst so heynous gyltes as these At Thebes take in hande When Hercles is returnde? who so Ismenus waters lande, Who so Acteons fieldes, or who with dowble seas beset The shaken Pelops kyngdomes doste of Dardan dwell on yet, Healpe me: of cruell slawghter showe who may the author bee. Let rage my yre on all: my foe he ys, who so to mee Showes not my foe. doste thou yet hydd Alcides victour lye? Come foorthe, euen whether thow reuenge the cruell chariots hys Of bloudy Thracian kyng, or yf thow Geryons catell quyght, Or lordes of Libya, no delaye there ys with thee to fyght. Beholde I naked stande, althowgh euen with wy weapons loe Thow me vnarmed sette vppon. wherfore feeth Theseus soe And eke my father from my syght? theyr faces why hyde they? Deferre your weepyngs, and who dyd my wyfe and chyldren sley Thus all at ones, me tell. Wherfore O father do thow whushte? But tell thow Theseu, but Theseu with thy accustonide truste. Eche of them sylent hydes awaye their bashefull cowntnawnces, And pryuelye they shedde their teares. In so greate yls as thes, Of what owghte we ashamde to bee? dothe ruler yet of myght Of Argos towne, or hatefull bande Of sowldyars ape to fyght Of Lycus dyinge, vs oppresse with such calamytee? By prayse of all my noble actes I do desyre of thee O father, and of thy great name approude to me alwaye The prosperous powre, declare to me, who dyd my hou sholde slaye? Whose praye laye I? Let thus thyue yls in sylence ouerpas. That I shoulde vnreuenged bee? Reuenge ofte hurtfull was. Dyd euer man so greuows ylles without reuenge sustayne? Whos'euer greater feard. Then these, O father yet agayne May any greater thing, or els More greuows feared bee? How greate a parte is it thow wost, Of thy calamitee? Take mercy father, lo I lyfte to thee my humble handes. What meaneth this? my hand fleeth backe, some priuye gylte here standes. Whēce coms this blood? or what doth mean flowyng with deathe of chyllde The shafte, enbrewde with slawghter onc of Lerney monster kyllde? I see my weapons nowe, the hande I seeke no more to wyt. Whose hand could bend this bow but myne? or what ryght arme but yt Coulde stryng the bowe, that vnto me Euen scantely doothe obaye? To you I tourne: O father deere, is thys my gylte I praye? They healde theyr peace: it is myne owne.