Heywood, Thomas · published 1613 · first performed or written 1611 [1610-1611] (Annals) classical legend or myth · Queen Anne's Men T20 Hercules: labours, suffering and virtue typicality 0.84 · 491 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T20: hercules, hercles, ioue, deianeira, alcides, hand, lo, death, skies, hell.
Clamours from afar, Tell us these Champions are addresed for war. Stand forth you warlike Champions, and express Your loves to Deianeira, in your valours. As we are Oeneus the Aetolians King, And under us command whole Calidon. So we contest we make her here the prize Of the proud victor: Dares the Theban bastard Contend with us, as we are eldest son Unto the grave and old Oceanus, And the Nymph Nais, borne on Pindus' mount, From whence our broad and spacious currents rise? So are we proud to cope with Hercules. near let my streams wash Acarnania's banks, Or we confined in Thous, our grand seat, Till (by the ruin of Alcmena's son) We lodge bright Deianeira in our arms. Have we the Cleonean lions torn? And decked our shoulders in their honoured spoils? The Caledonian Boar crushed with our Club? The rude Thessalian Centaurs sunk beneath Our juiall hand? pierced hell? bound Cerberus? And buffeted so long, till from the foam The dog belched forth strong Aconitum spring? And shall a petty river make our way To Deianeira's bed impassable? Know then the pettiest stream that flows through Greece, I'll make thee run thy head below thy banks, Make red thy waters with thy vital blood, And spill thy waves in drops as small as tears, If thou presum'st to cope with Hercules. What's Hercules that I should dread his name? Or what's he greater than Amphitrio's son? When we assume the name of Demi-god Not Proteus can transshape himself like us, For we command our figure when we please. Sometimes we like a serpent run along Our meadowy banks: and sometimes like a Bull Graze on these strands we water with our streams. We can translate our fury to a fire, And when we swell, in our fierce torrents swallow The Champion plains, and flow above the hills, Drown all the continents by which we run; Yea Hercules himself. Me Achelous! I can do more than this: love Deianeira, Swin with her on my shoulders through thy streams, And with my huge Club beat thy torrents back, With thine own waters quench th'infernal fires Thy figure serpentine, flat on the earth: And when thouart Bull, catch fast hold by thy horns, And whirl thee 'bout my head thus into air. Thou fair Aetolian dame, I cannot woo, Nor paint my passions in smooth Oratory, But fight for thee I can, 'gainst Achelous, Or all the horrid monsters of the earth. When begins your proud and hostile enmity? Behold the prize proposed, the victor's meed, Champions your spirits enkindle at her eyes. It is for her this bastard I despise. Prepare thee Theban. See, I am addressed With this to thunder on thy captive crest. I cannot bellow in thy bombast phrase; Nor deaf these free spectators with my braves. I cut off words with deeds, and now behold For me, the echo of my blows thus scold.
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)
Clamors from a farre, Tell vs these Champions are a drest for warre. Stand forth you warlike Champions, and expresse Your loues to Deianeira, in your valours. As we are Oeneus the Aetolians King, And vnder vs command whole Calidon. So we contest we make her here the prize Of the proud victor: Dares the Theban bastard Contend with vs, as we are eldest sonne Vnto the graue and old Oceanus, And the Nymph Nais, borne on Pindus mount, From whence our broad and spacious currents rise? So are we proud to coape with Hercules. Nere let my streames wash Aarnania's bankes, Or we confin'de in Thous, our grand seat, Till (by the ruine of Alcmena's sonne) We lodge bright Deianeira in our armes. Haue we the Cleonean Lyons torne? And deck't our shoulders in their honored spoyles? The Calidoni Boare crusht with our Club? The rude Thessalian Centaurs sunke beneath Our Iuiall hand? pierc'd hell? bound Cerber? And buffeted so long, till from the fome The dogge belch't forth strong Aconitum spring? And shall a petty riuer make our way To Deianeira's bed impassable? Know then the pettiest streame that flowes through Greece, Il'e make thee run thy head below thy bankes, Make red thy waters with thy vitall bloud, And spill thy waues in droppes as small as teares, If thou presum'st to coape with Hercules. What's Hercules that I should dread his name? Or what's he greater then Amphitri's sonne? When we assume the name of Demi-god Not Protes can trans-shape himselfe like vs, For we command our figure when we please. Sometimes we like a serpent run along Our medowy bankes: and sometimes like a Bull Graze on these strands we water with our streames. We can translate our fury to a fire, And when we swell, in our fierce torrents swallow The Champian plaines, and flow aboue the hils, Drowne all the continents by which we run; Yea Hercules himselfe. Me Achelous! I can do more then this: loue Deianeira, Swin with her on my shoulders through thy streames, And with my huge Club beat thy torrents backe, With thine owne waters quench th'infernall fires Thy figure serpentine, flat on the earth: And when th'art Bull, catch fast hold by thy hornes, And whirle thee 'bout my head thus into ayre. Thou faire Aetolian dame, I cannot wooe, Nor paint my passions in smooth Oratory, But fight for thee I can, 'gainst Achelous, Or all the horrid monsters of the earth. When 'gins your proud and hostile enmity? Behold the prize propos'd, the victors meed, Champions your spirits inkindle at her eyes. It is for her this bastard I despise. Prepare thee Theban. See, I am adrest With this to thunder on thy captiue crest. I cannot bellow in thy bombast phrase; Nor deafe these free spectators with my braues. I cut off words with deeds, and now behold For me, the eccho of my blowes thus scold.