Hercules Furens (Mad Hercules) (Seneca's First Tragedy) · chunk 27 of 28
Heywood, Jasper / Seneca, Lucius Annaeus · published 1561 · first performed or written 1561 (Annals) tragedy; literary play unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 552 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
By sacred holly kindred's rights, by force and duty all Of both my names, if either me thy bringer up thou call, Or parent else, and (which of good men reverenced are) By these boar heats, I thee beseech my desert age yet spare, Aud werye yeares: of howse falne downe the one alonely staye, One only light to me, with ills afflicted every way Reserve thyself: yet never hath there happened once of thee Fruit of thy toils: still either I the doubtful sea to see Or monsters f●…arde: who ever yet bathe been a cruel king In all the world, to ghosts allow, and altars both hurting, Of meys feared: the father of thee absent still, to have The frut●…, the touching, and the sight, of thee atlength I crave. wherefore I longer should sustain my life yet in this light, And linger here no cause there is: all good lost have I quite, My mind, my weapons, my renown, my wife, my sons, my hands, And fury to. no man may heal and lose from guilty bands My mind defyellde: needs must with death, be healed so heinous ill. wilt thou thy father slay? Lest I should do it die I will. Before thy rathers face? I taught him mischief for to se. Thy deeds marking rather that should of all remembered be, Of this one only crime I do a pardon of thee crave. Shall he give pardon to himself, that to none else it gave? I being bidden praise deserved, this deed mine own doth prove, Help father now, if either else thy piety thee move, Or else my heavy fate, or else the honour and renown Of stained strength: my weapons bring, let fortune be thrown down With my right hand. The prayers which thy father makes to thee Are strong enough, but yet likewise with weeping lo of me Be moved yet: arise thou up, and with thy wont might Subdue thine yl●…: now such a mind unmeet to bear upright No evil hap, receive again: lo now with manhood great Thou must prevail, every Hercules forbyd with ire to fret. alive, I hurt: but if I die, I take the guilt also. I hast to rid the worllde of crime, even now before me so A wicked monster, cruel, and untamed, fierce, and stout Do the wander: now with thy right hand begin to go about A great affair, yea more than all thy twice six labours long. Yet stay'st thou wretch, that late against the children waste so strong, And fearful mother? now except restored my weapons be, Of Thracian Pindus either I will tear down every tree, and Bacchus' holly woods, and tops of mount Cithaeron high Burn with myself. and all at once with all their housen I And with the Lords there of the roofs, with gods of Thebes all The Theban temples even upon my body will let fall: And will be hid in town upturnde: if to my shoulders might The walls themselves all cast thereon shall fall a burden light, And covered with seven gates I shall not be enough oppressed, Then all the weight whereon the world in middle part doth rest, And parts the Gods, upon my head i'll turn and overthrow. My weapons give.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
By sacred hollye kynreds rights, by force and duetie all Of bothe my names, yf eyther mee thy brynger vp thou call, Or parent ells, and (whiche of good men reuerenced are) By these boare heates, I thee beseche my desert age yet spare, Aud werye yeares: of howse falne downe the one alonely staye, One onely lyght to me, with ylles afflicted euery waye Reserue thy lelfe: yet neuer hath there hapned once of thee Frute of thy toyles: styll eyther I the dowtfull seae to see Or monsters farde: who euer yet bathe bene a cruell kyng In all the worlde, to ghosts alowe, and aulters both hurtyng, Of meys fearde: the father of thee absent styll, to haue The frut, the towching, and the sight, of thee atlength I craue. wherfore I longer shoulde sustaine my lyfe yet in this lyght, And lynger here no cause there is: all good lost haue I quight, My mynde, my weapons, my renowne, my wyfe, my sonnes, my handes, And furye to. no man may heale and loase from gyltye bandes My mynde defyellde: needes must with deth, be healde so heinous yll. wilt thou thy father slay? Least I should doe it dye I will. Before thy rathers face? I taught hym mischiefe for to se. Thy deedes markyng rather that should of all remembred be, Of this one onely cryme I doe a pardon of thee craue. Shall he geue pardon to hym selfe, that to none els it gaue? I beeyng bidden prayse deserud, this deede mine owne dothe proue, Helpe father now, if eyther els thy pietye thee moue, Or els my heauy fate, or els the honour and renowne Of stained strength: my weapons bryng, let fortune be throwen downe With my right hande. The praiers which thy father makes to thee Are stronge enough, but yet likewise with wepyng loe of me Be moued yet: aryse thou vp, and with thy wonted myght Subdue thyne yl: now suche a mynde vnmeete to beare vpright No euyll hap, receyue agayne: loe now with manhode gret Thou must preuayle, eueri Hercules sorbyd with yre to fret. Alyue, I hurte: but yf I dye, I take the gylt also. I hast to rydde the worllde of cryme, euen now before me so A wycked monster, cruell, and vntamed, fierce, and stoute Do the wander: now with thy ryght hande begyn to goe aboute A greate affayre, yea more then all thy twise syx labours long. Yet stayste thou wretche, that late agaynste the children waste so strong, And fearefull mother? now excepte restoarde my weapons be, Of Thracian Pindus eyther I wyll teare downe euery tree, and Bacchus hollye woods, and toppes of mount Cythaeron hye Burne with my selfe. and all at once with all their housen I And with the Lordes there of the roofes, with goddes of Thebes all The Thebane temples euen vppon my bodye will lette fall: And wyll be hyd in towne vpturnde: if to my shoulders might The walles themselues all cast thereon shall fall a burden lyght, And couerde with seuen gates I shall not be enough opprest, Then all the wayght whereon the worlde in middle parte doth rest, And partes the Gods, vpon my hed Ile turne and ouerthroe. My weapons geeue.