Jonson, Ben · published 1641 · first performed or written 1618 [Jan 6] (Annals) masque · before the Court T20 Hercules: labours, suffering and virtue typicality 0.79 · 448 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T20: hercules, hercles, ioue, deianeira, alcides, hand, lo, death, skies, hell.
WHat Rites are these? breeds earth more monsters yet? Antaeus' scarce is cold: what can beget This store? (and stay) such contraries upon her, Is earth so fruitful of her own dishonour? Or'cause his vice was inhumanity, Hopes she by vicious hospitality To work an expiation first? and than (Help virtue) these are sponges, and not men: Bottles? mere vessels? half a tun of paunch? How? and the other half thrust forth in haunch? Whose feast? the bellies? Comus? and my cup Brought in to fill the drunken Orgies up? And here abused? that was the crowned reward, Of thirsty Heroes, after labour hard? Burdens, and shames of nature, perish, die; (For yet you never lived) but in the sty Of vice have wallowed, and in that swine's strife Been buried under the offence of life: Go reel and fall under the load you make, Till your swollen bowels burst with what you take. Can this be pleasure, to extinguish man? Or so quite change him in his figure? can The belly love his pain? and be content With no delight but what's a punishment? These monsters plague themselves, and fitly too, For they do suffer; what, and all the do, But here must be no shelter, nor no shrowd For such: Sink Grove, or vanish into cloud. GReat friend and servant of the good, Let cool a while thy heated blood, And from thy mighty labour cease. Lie down, lie down, And give thy troubled spirits peace, Whilst virtue, for whose sake Thou dost this godlike travail take, May of the choicest herbage make (Here on this Mountain bred,) A crown, a crown For thy immortal head. Antaeus' dead! and Hercules yet live! Where is this Hercules? what would I give To meet him now? meet him? nay, three such other, If they had hand in murder of our brother? With three? with four? with ten? nay with as many As the name yields? pray anger there be any Whereon to feed my just revenge, and soon: How shall I kill him? hurl him 'gainst the Moon, And break him in small portions? give to Greece His brain? and every tract of earth a piece. 2 PIG. He is yonder. 1 Where? 3 At the hill foot, asleep. 1 Let one go steal his club. 2 My charge, I'll creep. 4 He's ours. 1 Yes, peace. 3 Triumph, we have him boy. 4 Sure, sure, he is sure. 1 Come, let us dance for joy. Wake Hercules, awake; but heave up thy black eye, 'Tis only asked from thee to look, and these will die, Or fly: Already they are fled, Whom scorn had else left dead.
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)
VVHat Rites are theſe? breeds earth more monſters yet? Antaeus ſcarce is cold: what can beget This ſtore? (and ſtay) ſuch contraries upon her, Is earth ſo fruitfull of her owne diſhonour? Or'cauſe his vice was inhumanitie, Hopes ſhe by vicious hoſpitalitie To worke an expiation firſt? and then (Helpe vertue) theſe are ſponges, and not men: Bottles? meere veſſels? halfe a tun of paunch? How? and the other halfe thruſt forth in haunch? Whoſe feaſt? the bellies? Comus? and my cup Brought in to fill the drunken Orgies up? And here abuſ'd? that was the crownd reward, Of thirſtie Heroes, after labour hard? Burdens, and ſhames of nature, periſh, die; (For yet you never liv'd) but in the ſtie Of vice have wallow'd, and in that ſwines ſtrife Beene buried under the offence of life: Goe reele and fall under the load you make, Till your ſwollen bowells burſt with what you take. Can this be pleaſure, to extinguiſh man? Or ſo quite change him in his figure? can The bellie love his paine? and be content With no delight but what's a puniſhment? Theſe monſters plague themſelves, and fitly too, For they doe ſuffer; what, and all the doe, But here muſt be no ſhelter, nor no ſhrowd For ſuch: Sincke Grove, or vaniſh into cloud. GReat friend and ſervant of the good, Let coole a while thy heated blood, And from thy mighty labour ceaſe. Lie downe, lie downe, And give thy troubled ſpirits peace, Whilſt vertue, for whoſe ſake Thou doſt this god-like travaile take, May of the choyſeſt herbage make (Here on this Mountaine bred,) A crowne, a crowne For thy immortall head. ANtaeus dead! and Hercules yet live! Where is this Hercules? what would I give To meet him now? meet him? nay, three ſuch other, If they had hand in murther of our brother? With three? with foure? with ten? nay with as many As the name yeelds? pray anger there be any Whereon to feed my juſt revenge, and ſoone: How ſhall I kill him? hurle him 'gainſt the Moone, And breake him in ſmall portions? give to Greece His braine? and every tract of earth a peece. 2 PIG. He is yonder. 1 Where? 3 At the hill foot, aſleepe. 1 Let one goe ſteale his club. 2 My charge, Ile creepe. 4 He's ours. 1 Yes, peace. 3 Triumph, we have him boy. 4 Sure, ſure, he is ſure. 1 Come, let us dance for joy. Wake Hercules, awake; but heave up thy blacke eye, 'Tis onely ask'd from thee to looke, and theſe will die, Or flie: Already they are fled, Whom ſcorne had elſe left dead.