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 0.85 · 524 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T20: hercules, hercles, ioue, deianeira, alcides, hand, lo, death, skies, hell.
That done return for us: fair Deianeira, White as the garden lily, pyren snow, Or rocks of Crystal hardened by the Sun: Thou shalt be made the potent Queen of Thebes, And all my jovial labours shall to thee Be consecrate, as to Alcides' love. Well plunge bold Centaur, how thy boisterous breast Ploughs up the streams: thou through the swelling tides, Sailest with a freight more rich and beautiful, Than the best ship crammed with Pangeous' gold: With what a swift dexterity he parts The mutinous waves, whose waters clasp him round, He plays and wantons on the curled streams, And Deianeira on his shoulders fits As safe, as if she steered a pine-tree bark. They grow now towards the shore: my club and arms I'll first cast o'er the deep Euenus ford, But from my side my quiver shall not part, Nor this my trusty bow. Help Hercules. 'Twas Deianeira's voice. The Traitor Nessus Seeks to despoil mine honour, Ioue, you Gods: Out traitorous Centaur: Help great Hercules. Hold, lust-burnt Centaur, 'tis Alcides calls Or swifter than Ioues lightning, my fierce vengeance Shall cross Euenus. Oh, oh. darest thou devil? Couldst thou climb Heaven or sink below the Centre So high, so low, my vengeance should pursue thee, Hold; if I could but fix thee in my gripes, I de tear thy limbs into more Atomies Then in the Summer play before the Sun. Help Hercules (out dog) Alcides help. I'll send till I can come, this poisonous shaft Shall speak my fury and extract thy blood, Till I myself can cross this raging flood. Thy beauty Deianeira is my death, And yet that Nessus dies embracing thee Takes from my senses all those torturing pangs That should associate death: to show I loved thee, I'll leave thee, in my will, a legacy; Shall stead thee more, then should thy father give thee Unto thy Dower the Crown of Calidon. Of such great virtue is my living blood, And of such prize, that couldst thou value it, Thou wouldst not let one drop fall to the ground: But oh I die. Teach me to rate it truly. Now Nessus, in thy death be avenged on him On whom in life thou couldst not wreak thy rage: (My blood is poison) all these pure drops save, Which I bequeath thee ere I take my grave: I know thy Lord lascivious, bent to lust, Witness the fifty daughters of King Thespeius, Whom in one night he did adulterate: And of those fifty begot fifty sons: Now if in all his quests, he be withheld By any lady's love, and stay from thee, Such is the virtue of my blood now shed, That if thou dip'st a shirt, steeped in the least Of all these drops, and send'st it to thy Lord, No sooner shall it touch him, but his love Shall die to strangers, and revive to thee, Make use of this my love. Centaur, I will. And so, whom Nessus cannot, do thou kill; Still dying men speak true: 'tis my last cry, Save of my blood, 'tmay steed thee ere thou die.
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)
That done returne for vs: faire Deianeira, White as the garden lilly, pyren snow, Or rocks of Christall hardned by the Sunne: Thou shalt be made the potent Queene of Thebes, And all my Iouiall labours shall to thee Be consecrate, as to Alcides loue. Well plundge bold Centaure, how thy boysterous brest Plowes vp the streames: thou through the swelling tides, Sail'st with a freight more rich and beautifull, Then the best ship cram'd with Pangeous gold: With what a swift dexterity he parts The mutinous waues, whose waters claspe him round, Hee plaies and wantons on the curled streames, And Deyanira on his shoulders fits As safe, as if she stear'd a pine-tree barke. They grow now towards the shore: my club and armes I'le first cast or'e the deepe Euenus foord, But from my side my quiuer shall not part, Nor this my trusty bow. Helpe Herles. 'Twas Deyaneiraes voyce. The Traytor Nessus Seekes to despoile mine honour, Ioue, you Gods: Out trayterous Centaure: Helpe great Hercules. Hold, lust-burnt Centaure, 'tis Alcides cals Or swifter then Ioues lightning, my fierce vengeance Shall crosse Euenus. Oh, oh. Darst thou deuill? Couldst thou clime Heauen or sinke below the Center So high, so low, my vengeance should persue thee, Hold; if I could but fixe thee in my gripes, I de teare thy limbes into more Atomies Then in the Summer play before the Sunne. Helpe Hercules (out dog) Alcides helpe. I'le send till I can come, this poisonous shaft Shall speake my fury and extract thy bloud, Till I my selfe can crosse this raging floud. Thy beauty Deyaneira is my death, And yet that Nessus dies embracing thee Takes from my sences all those torturing pangues That should associate death: to shew I lou'd thee, I'le leaue thee, in my will, a legacy; Shall stead thee more, then should thy father giue thee Vnto thy Dower the Crowne of Calidon. Of such great vertue is my liuing bloud, And of such prize, that couldst thou valew it, Thou wouldst not let one drop fall to the ground: But oh I die. Teach me to rate it truely. Now Nessus, in thy death be aueng'd on him On whom in life thou couldst not wreake thy rage: (My bloud is poison) all these pure drops saue, Which I bequeath thee ere I take my graue: I know thy Lord lasciuious, bent to lust, Witnesse the fifty daughters of King Thespeius, Whom in one night he did adulterate: And of those fifty begot fifty sonnes: Now if in all his quests, he be with-held By any Ladies loue, and stay from thee, Such is the vertue of my bloud now shed, That if thou dipst a shirt, steept in the least Of all these drops, and sendst it to thy Lord, No sooner shall it touch him, but his loue Shall die to strangers, and reuiue to thee, Make vse of this my loue. Centaure, I will. And so, whom Nessus cannot, do thou kill; Still dying men speake true: 'tis my last cry, Saue of my bloud, may steede thee ere thou die.