The Brazen Age (The Age of Brass) · chunk 10 of 40
Heywood, Thomas · published 1613 · first performed or written 1611 [1610-1611] (Annals) classical legend or myth · Queen Anne's Men unassigned nearest T7 The Trojan war: conflict and its afterma · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
Charge bravely then your javelins, send them singing Through the clear air, and aim them at yond fiend, denned in the queachy bog, the signal Lords. charge, charge. Princes, shrill your Bugles free. And all Atlanta's danger fall on me. This way, this way, renowned Telamon, The Boar makes through yond glade, and from the hills He hurries like a tempest: In his way He prostrates trees, and like the bolt of Ioue, Shatters where ere he comes. Diana's wrath Sparkles grim terror from his fiery eyes: One javelin pointed with the purest brass, I have blunted 'gainst his ribs, yet he unscared, The head, as darted 'gainst a rock of marble, Rebounded back. He shakes off from his head Our best Thessalian dogs, like Summer flies: Nor can their sharp fangs fasten on his hide. Follow the cry. where's noble Telamon? Or warlike Iason? hear you Tyndarides, Speak, which way bends this plague of Calidon? Here may you stand him, for behold he comes Like a rough torrent, swallowing where he spreads, Over his head a cloud of terror hangs In which lean death (as in a Chariot) rides, Darting his shafts on all sides: 'mongst the Princes Of fertile Greece, Anceus bowels lie Strewed on the earth, torn by his ravenous tusks: And had not Nestor (by his javelins help) Leaped up into an Oak to have scaped his rage, He had now perished in his second Age. Peleus is wounded, Pelegon lies slain, Eupalemon hath all his body rent With an oblique wound: yet Meleager still, And Theseus, and Atreus, with the rest, Pursue the chase, with Boar-spears cast so thick, That where they fly, they seem to dark the air, And where they fall, they threaten imminent ruin. To these we'll add our fury, and our fire, And front him, though his brow bare figured hell, And every wrinkle were the gulf of Styx By which the Gods contest: Come noble Telamon, Diana's monster by our hands shall fall, Or (with the Princes slain) let's perish all. Thou beauteous Nonacris, Arcadia's pride, How hath thy valour with thy fortune joined, To make thee stain the general fortitude Of all the Princes we derive from Greece, Thy lances point hath on yond armed monster, Made the first wound, and the first crimson drop Fell from his side, thy aim and arm extracted, Thy fame shall never die in Calidon. We trifle here, what shall Atlanta gain The first wounds honour, and be absent from The monster's death, we must have hand in both. Thou hast purchased honour and renown enough, Oh stain not all the general youth of Greece, By thy too forward spirit. Come not near Yond rude bloodthirsty savage, lest he prey On thee, as on Anceus, and the rest, Let me between thee and all dangers stand. Fight, but fight safe beneath our puissant hand. The cry comes this way, all my shafts I'll spend. To give the fury that affrights us, end.
seed 43: T17 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Charge brauely then your Iauelins, send them singing Through the cleare aire, and aime them at yon fiend, Den'd in the quechy bogge, the signall Lords. charge, charge. Princes, shrill your Bugles free. And all Atlanta's danger fall on me. This way, this way, renowned Telamon, The Boare makes through yon glade, and from the hils He hurries like a tempest: In his way He prostrates trees, and like the bolt of Ioue, Shatters where ere he comes. Diana's wrath Sparkles grim terrour from his fiery eyes: One Iauelin pointed with the purest brasse, I haue blunted 'gainst his ribs, yet he vnscar'd, The head, as darted 'gainst a rocke of marble, Rebounded backe. He shakes off from his head Our best Thessalian dogges, like Sommer flyes: Nor can their sharpe phangs fasten on his hide. Follow the cry. Wher's noble Telamon? Or warlike Iason? Here you Tyndarides, Speake, which way bends this plague of Calidon? Here may you stand him, for behold he comes Like a rough torrent, swallowing where he spreads, Ouer his head a cloud of terrour hangs In which leane death (as in a Chariot) rides, Darting his shafts on all sides: 'mongst the Princes Of fertill Greee, Anceus bowels lye Strewd on the earth, torne by his rauenous tuskes: And had not Nestor (by his Iauelins helpe) Leap'vp into an Oke to haue scap't his rage, He had now perisht in his second Age. Peleus is wounded, Pelegon lies slaine, Eupalemon hath all his body rent With an oblique wound: yet Meleager still, And Theseus, and Atreus, with the rest, Pursue the chace, with Boare-speares cast so thicke, That where they flye, they seeme to darke the ayre, And where they fall, they treaten imminent ruine. To these wee' adde our fury, and our fire, And front him, though his bow bare figured hell, And euery wrinkle were the gulfe of Styx By which the Gods contest: Come noble Telamon, Diana's monster by our hands shall fall, Or (with the Princes slaine) let's perish all. Thou beauteous Nonacris, Arcadia's pride, How hath thy valour with thy fortune ioyn'd, To make thee staine the generall fortitude Of all the Princes we deriue from Greece, Thy launces poynt hath on yon armed monster, Made the first wound, and the first crimson droppe Fell from his side, thy ayme and arme extracted, Thy fame shall neuer dye in Calidon. We trifle heere, what shall Atlanta gaine The first wounds honour, and be absent from The monfters death, we must haue hand in both. Thou hast purchast honour and renowne enough, Oh staine not all the generall youth of Greece, By thy too forward spirit. Come not neere Yon rude blood-thirsty sauadge, lest he prey On thee, as on Anceus, and the rest, Let me betweene thee and all dangers stand. Fight, but fight safe beneath our puissant hand. The cry comes this way, all my shafts Il'e spend. To giue the fury that affrights vs, end.