The Golden Age, or The Lives of Jupiter and Saturn · chunk 9 of 36
Heywood, Thomas · published 1611 · first performed or written 1610 [1609-1611] (Annals) classical legend or myth · Queen Anne's Men · Red Bull T12 Olympian gods: Jupiter, Juno, Venus and typicality 0.80 · 509 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T12: iupiter, saturn, iuno, venus, gods, mars, earth, titan, love, fair.
Receive him Lords, a Banquet instantly, You shall this day brave Epire feast with us, And to your board your hostage shall be brought, There to receive him freely, mean time sit, And taste the royal welcomes of our Court. Lycaon's just in keeping these conditions So strictly with a reconciled foe. But fair prince, tell me whence you are derived, I never heard King Melliseus had A Prince of your perfections? This demand Startles my blood, being borne I know not where, Yet that I am of gentry at the least, My Spirit prompts me, and my noble thoughts Give me approved warrant, being an infant Two beauteous Ladies found me in a cave, Where from their voluntary charity, Bees fed me with their honey, for that cause The two bright Ladies called me Iupiter, And to their Father Melliseus brought me, My Foster-father, who hath trained my youth, In feats of Arms, and military prowess, And as an instance of his dearest love, Hath honoured me with this late Embassy. We are satisfied: Princes sit round and feast, You are this day Lycaon's welcom'st guest. This meat distastes me, doth Lycaon feast us Like cannibals? feed us with human flesh? Whence is this portent? Feed Epyrians, eat, Lycaon feasts you with no common meat. But where's the Epire Lord we left as hostage? Behold him here, he's at the table with you, This is the Epire's head, and these his limbs, Thinks Melliseus that Lycaon can (Descended of the valiant Tytanoys) Bury his hatred, and entomb his spleen Without revenge? blood in these wars was shed, And for that blood your hostage lost his head. Bear wrong that list, & those can brook it best, I was not borne to sufferance: thoughts mount high, A King hath wronged me, and a King shall die. Treason, treason. Down with the tyrant, and that hateful crew, And in their murderous breasts your blades imbrue. Our guard. Iupiter and the Epyriens beat off Lycaon and his followers. Lycaon's fled, make good the palace gates, And to th'amazed City bear these limbs, So basely by the tyrant massacred. Haply his subjects by our words prepared May shake their bondage off, and make this war, The happy means to rid a tyrant thence. Bear in your left hands these dismembred limbs, And in your right your swords, with which make way, Courage brave Epire's, and a glorious day, Lycaon's once more fled, we by the help Of these his people, have confined him hence, To whom belongs this Crown? To Iupiter. None shall protect our lives, but Iupiter. A Iupiter, A Iupiter. Nay we are far from such ambition, Lords, Nor will we entertain such royalty. Fair Prince, whom heaven hath sent by miracle, To save us from the bloodiest tyrannies, That ere were practised by a mortal prince, We tender thee our fortunes: oh vouchsafe To be our Lord, our Governor, and King, Since all thy people jointly have agreed, None of that tyrant's issue shall succeed. A Iupiter, A Iupiter.
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)
Receiue him Lords, a Banquet instantly, You shall this day braue Epyre feast with vs, And to your boord your hostage shall be brought, There to receiue him freely, meane time sit, And taste the royall welcomes of our Court. Lycaon's iust in keeping these conditions So strictly with a reconciled foe. But faire prince, tell me whence you are deriu'd, I neuer heard King Melliseus had A Prince of your perfections? This demand Startles my bloud, being borne I know not where, Yet that I am of gentry at the least, My Spirtt prompts me, and my noble thoughts Giue me approued warrant, being an infant Two beauteous Ladyes found me in a caue, Where from their voluntary charity, Bees fed me with their hony, for that cause The two bright Ladies cal'd me Iupiter, And to their Father Melliseus brought me, My Foster-father, who hath train'd my youth, In feats of Armes, and military prowesse, And as an instance of his deerest loue, Hath honor'd me with this late Embassy. We are satisfi'd: Princes sit round and feast, You are this day Lycaons welcom'st guest. This meat distasts me, doth Lycaon feast vs Like Caniballes? feed vs with humane flesh? Whence is this portent? Feede Epyrians, eate, Lycaon feasts you with no common meate. But wher's the Epyre Lord we left as hostage? Behold him here, hee's at the table with you, This is the Epyres head, and these his limbes, Thinkes Melliseus that Lycaon can (Discended of the valiant Tytanoys) Bury his hatred, and intoombe his spleene Without reuenge? bloud in these warres was shed, And for that bloud your hostage lost his head. Beare wrong that list, & those can brooke it best, I was not borne to suffrance: thoughts mount hye, A King hath wrong'd me, and a King shall dye. Treason, treason. Downe with the tyrant, and that hatefull crue, And in their murdrous breasts your blades imbrue. Our guard. Iupiter and the Epyriens beat off Lycaon and his followers. Lycaon's fled, make good the pallace gates, And to th'amazed Citie beare these limbs, So basely by the tyrant massacred. Happly his subiects by our words prepar'd May shake their bondage off, and make this warre, The happy meanes to rid a tyrant thence. Beare in your left hands these dis-membred limbes, And in your right your swords, with which make way, Courage braue Epyres, and a glorious day, Lycaon's once more fled, we by the helpe Of these his people, haue confin'd him hence, To whom belongs this Crowne? To Iupiter. None shall protect our liues, but Iupiter. A Iupiter, A Iupiter. Nay we are farre from such ambition, Lords, Nor will we entertaine such royalty. Faire Prince, whō heauen hath sent by miracle, To saue vs from the bloudyest tyrannies, That ere were practis'd by a mortall prince, We tender thee our fortunes: oh vouchsafe To be our Lord, our Gouernour, and King, Since all thy people ioyntly haue agreed, None of that tyrants issue shall succed. A Iupiter, A Iupiter.