As Fitch argues (p. 163) this first ode is “indispensable for our understanding of the play. It establishes a standard of normality in the conduct of human life, and indicates that by that standard Hercules is condemned.” This normality is established in the first half of the ode, as the Chorus describes the human and animal inhabitants of the countryside rising with the dawn to go about their day. This humble country life is contrasted with stereotypical ambitions of city dwellers, and especially those who do not know how to enjoy the present moment. Hercules is introduced as an extreme example of this: his restless travelling has brought him even to the underworld, thereby hurrying the encounter with death that must come inevitably to all humans. But Seneca’s vision is tragic throughout this ode, foreboding the violence that will spoil Hercules’ triumphant return from the Uunderworld, and even the seemingly peaceful description of dawn at the beginning holds an undercurrent of menace.
As the ode begins (125-36), the stars fade, and the Morning Star and Ursa Major change their position in the sky. The sun rises over Mount Oeta. The moon sets, but will return the next night. The initial focus on the movements of the heavens recalls Juno’s list of constellations at the start of Act 1 (especially the similar descriptions of Ursa Major in lines 6 and 129-30: hinc Arctos altā parte glaciālis polī ~ signum celsī glaciāle polī / septem stēllīs Arcados Ursa). This helps to link the ode to the previous act and remind us of Juno’s upcoming revenge. Descriptions of sunrise or sunset commonly mark changes of scene in Greek and Roman poetry, and often contain important thematic meaning. Here, military language hints at the violence to come later in the play (see 126-8n.). Furthermore, allusions to myths about family violence (Callisto and Arcas, Hercules and Deianira, Pentheus and Agave: nn. on 129-31, 133, 134-5) hint more specifically at the horrific actions that Hercules will take. Several details in this passage are adapted from a description of sunrise in Ovid’s tale of Phaethon (Metamorphoses 2.114-18):
diffugiunt stellae, quārum agmina cōgit
Lūcifer et caelī statiōne novissimus exit.
quem petere ut terrās mundumque rubescere vīdit
cornuaque extrēmae velut ēvānescere lūnae,
iungere equōs Tītan vēlōcibus imperat Hōris.
The stars retreat, their troop driven on by the morning Star, who is the last to leave his post in the sky. When the Titan Sun saw him heading towards the ground and the sky beginning to blush and the horns (so to speak) of the waning moon fade away, he ordered the swift Hours to yoke his horses.
This allusion provides another hint of the family tragedy to come, since Phaethon dies while driving the chariot of his father, the Sun.
In the second section of the ode (137- 58), the rising of the sun is accompanied by the “rising” of hard work for humans (shepherds, sailors, fishermen): 137 Labor exoritur dūrus. “Hard work” is a common phrase in Latin, as it is in English, but here it probably specifically recalls Virgil’s Georgics, an agricultural poem with labor and its difficulties as a central theme. Nevertheless, the work takes place in the countryside, and all-around nature is exuberant. The descriptions of baby animals (calves, kids, nightingale chicks) specify the time as spring; the human labors described are also typical of spring. The rebirth of the day at dawn is thus complemented by the rebirth of the year in spring. This rebirth is marked by the happy energy of newborn animals, which contrasts with the human toils and anxieties described. But even the animal kingdom is not entirely free from care: the list of animals ends with the nightingale, whose description as Thrācia paelex evokes the horrific myth of Philomela (146-51n.).
For all its toils and cares, life in the country was still traditionally considered to be better than life in the city. The contrast between country and city life in the next section (159-73) would have made Seneca’s wealthy audience think of their opulent country villas, to which they frequently escaped from the unhealthy, crowded city of Rome (for this audience, life in the country did not involve much labor dūrus). But criticism of city life was a common theme in Greek and Roman literature, and the characters that the Chorus describes are stereotypical: one man seeks the support of powerful patrons, another lusts after wealth, a third pursues popular acclaim, and a fourth sells his services as a lawyer. Seneca and his audience would have been familiar with several famous descriptions of country and city life, including a passage in Virgil’s Georgics (2.458-74) and Horace’s parable of the Country Mouse and Town Mouse (Satires 2.6.75-115).
Horace’s parable contains an instance of another common theme in Greek and Roman literature, that life is fleeting and so each moment should be enjoyed: dum licet, in rēbus iūcundīs vīve beātus, / vīve memor, quam sīs aevī brevis (Satires 2.6.96-7; compare the Chorus’s words at 177-8: dum fāta sinunt, vīvite laetī. / properat cursū vīta citātō). This is the theme of the next section of the ode (174-91). It would have been well known to Seneca and his audience: Horace’s advice, carpe diem (Odes 1.11.8) is familiar even to modern readers, and Seneca himself discusses the theme frequently in his philosophical writing (e.g., Epistles 1). But Seneca shows his originality by taking the theme in an unexpected direction. Death comes quickly and cannot be avoided, and so it is wise to enjoy the simple pleasures of the moment. But not only does Hercules not follow this advice – he even speeds up the meeting with death by going to the underworld!
This introduces a final common theme at the end of the ode (192-201), that excellence can lead to disaster. The Chorus treats this theme by rejecting the pursuit of glory in favour of a simple life: another man may enjoy glory and fame, riding high on a triumphal chariot; the Chorus wishes to grow old in the safety of a humble house. This rhetorical technique (rejecting one or more alternatives before embracing a preferred idea), called a priamel, can be found once again in the poetry of Horace (e.g., Odes 1.1), which repeatedly embraces the kind of simple life that the Chorus values throughout this ode.
The theme of dangerous excellence is central to the Hercules Furens as a whole, and Seneca expresses it with typical epigrammatic force: 201 altē virtūs animōsa cadit. The image in this section of a man riding high on a chariot (195 alius currū sublīmis eat) would have evoked not only the heroic image of the Greek Hercules, but also that of a Roman general (or, in Seneca’s day, the emperor), riding in triumph through the city. In a Roman triumph, a slave stood beside the triumphātor to remind him that he was not a god. This, as we will discover, is a message that Hercules could have benefited from.