Hercules Furens (Mad Hercules) (Seneca's First Tragedy) · chunk 22 of 28
Heywood, Jasper / Seneca, Lucius Annaeus · published 1581 · first performed or written 1561 (Annals) tragedy; literary play T20 Hercules: labours, suffering and virtue typicality 0.91 · 530 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T20: hercules, hercles, ioue, deianeira, alcides, hand, lo, death, skies, hell.
Whether doth the rage and fury blind yet go? His mighty Bow he drew with horns together driven lo, And quiver lost: great noise makes with violence sent out The shaft, and quite the weapon flew his middle neck throughout, The wound yet left. His other brood I overthrow will quite, And corners all. What stay I yet? to me a greater fight Remains then all Mycenes lo, that rocky stones should all Of Cyclops being overturned with hand of mine, down fall. Let shake both here, and there the house, with all stays overthrown, Let break the posts: and quite let shrink the shaken pillar down: Let all the Palace fall at once. I here yet hidden see The son of wicked father. Lo his flattering hands to thee Applying to thy knees doth crave his life with piteous moan. O wicked guilt, full sad, and eke abhorred to look upon, His humble right hand caught he hath, and raging round about Him rolled twice, or thrice hath cast. his head resoundeth out, The sprinkled houses with the brain of him thrown out are wet. But she poor wretch her little son in bosom hiding yet Lo Megara, like one in rage doth from the corners flee. Though runagate in bosom of the thunder hid thou be, This right hand shall from everywhere thee seek, and bring to sight. Where goest thou wretch? what lurking dens, seekst thou to take, or flight? No place of safeguard is if once be Hercles' stirred with ire: But do thou rather him embrace, and with thy meek desire Assay t'assuage him. Husband spare us I beseech thee now, And know thy Megara, this son thy countenance doth show, And bodies pitch: behold'st thou how his hands up lifteth he? I hold my stepdame: follow on due penance pay to me, And bounden Ioue from filthy bond deliver free away: But I before the mother will this little monster slay. Thou mad man whither goest thou? wilt thou thine own blood shed? Th'infant with father's fiery face astounded all for bread, Died even before the wound: his fear hath took away his life. And now likewise his heavy club is shaken toward his wife: He broken hath the bones, her head from blocklike body gone Is quite, nor anywhere it stays, dar'st thou this look upon To long lived age? If mourning do the grieve, thou hast then lo The death prepared. Do thou thy breast upon his weapon's throw, Or else this club with slaughter strained of monsters slain that Bee, Now hither turn. thy parent false, unfit for name of thee Rid hence away, lest he should be to thy renown a let. Which way the father toward thy death dost thou thyself cast yet? Or whither goest thou mad man? flee and lie thou closely hid, And yet from hands of Hercules this only mischief rid. 'tis well, the house of shameful king is now quite overthrown. To thee O spouse of greatest Ioue I have lo beaten down This offered flock: I gladly have fulfilled my wishes all Full meet for thee, and Argos now give other offerings shall.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 1009–1059 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 22 of 28 in this edition
Length
530 words · 681 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T20 — Hercules: labours, suffering and virtuecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.906 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
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)
Whether doth the rage and fury blinde yet goe? His mighty Bowe he drewe with hornes together driuen loe, And quiuer loaſte: great noyeſe makes with violence ſent out The ſhaft, and quight the weapon flewe his middle necke throughout, The wound yet left. His other broode I ouerthrow will quight, And corners all. What ſtay I yet? to me a greater fyght Remaynes then all Mycenes loe, that rockye ſtones ſhould all Of Cyclops being ouerturn'de with hande of myne, downe fall. Let ſhake both here, and there the houſe, with all ſtayes ouerthrowne, Let breake the poaſts: and quight let ſhrinke the ſhaken piller downe: Let all the Pallace fall at once. I here yet hidden ſee The ſonne of wycked father. Loe his flattring handes to thee Applying to thy knees dooth craue his lyfe with piteous mone. O wicked gylt, full ſad, and eke abhorde to looke vpone, His humble right hand caught he hath, and raging rounde about Him rolled twyſe, or thryſe hath caſt. his head reſoundeth out, The ſprinkled houſes with the brayne of him throwne out are wet. But ſhee poore wretch her little ſonne in voſome hyding yet Loe Megara, like one in rage doth from the corners flee. Though runagate in boſome of the thundrer hid thou bee, This right hand ſhall from euery where thee ſeeke, and bring to ſight. Wher goeſt thou wretch? what lurking dens, ſeekſt thou to take, or flight? No place of ſauegarde is if once bee Hercles ſtyrde with yre: But doe thou rather him embrace, and with thy meeke deſyre Aſſay t'aſſwage him. Huſband ſpare vs I beſeech thee nowe, And knowe thy Megara, this ſonne thy countenaunce doth ſhowe, And bodyes pytche: behould'ſt thou howe his hands vp lyfteth hee? I holde my ſtepdame: followe on due penaunce paye to mee, And bounden Ioue from fylthy bonde deliuer free away: But I before the mother will this litle monſter ſlay. Thou mad man whither goeſt thou? wylt thou thine owne bloude ſheade? Th'infant with fathers fyry face aſtonnted all for bread, Died euen before the wounde: his feare hath tooke away his lyfe. And now likewiſe his heauy club is ſhaken towarde his wyfe: He broaken hath the bones, her head from blocklyke body gone Is quight, nor any where it ſtayes, dar'ſte thou this looke vpone To long lyu'de age? If mouruing doe the greeue, thou haſt then loe The death preparde. Doe thou thy breaſt vppon his weapons throe, Or ells this club with ſlaughter ſtayn'de of monſters ſlayne that bee, Nowe hyther turne. thy parent falſe, vnfit for name of thee Ryd hence away, leaſt he ſhould be to thy reuowne a let. Which way the father toward thy death doſt thou thy ſelfe caſt yet? Or whyther goeſt thou mad man? flee and lye thou cloaſely hid, And yet from handes of Hercules this onely myſchiefe rid. T'is well, the houſe of ſhameful king is now quight ouerthrowne. To thee O ſpouſe of greatteſt Ioue I haue loe beaten downe This offred flocke: I gladly haue fulfill'de my wyſhes all Full meete for thee, and Argos now geue other offrings ſhall.