The Brazen Age (The Age of Brass) · chunk 12 of 40
Heywood, Thomas · published 1613 · first performed or written 1611 [1610-1611] (Annals) classical legend or myth · Queen Anne's Men unassigned nearest T34 Thebes and royal catastrophe: siege, sla · 479 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T34: thebes, antigone, polynices, creon, eteocles, war, theban, gods, dear, country.
Thou stoodst his violence, till thy sharp javelin grated 'gainst his broines, Beneath his shield thou enterd'st to his heart. At that we girt him till a thousand wounds, He from a thousand hands received at once: And in his fall it seemed the earth did groan, And the fixed Centre tremble under him. The spoil is thine, the young Adonis' death, Anceus' slaughter, and the massacre Of Archas, Pelagon, Eupateinon And all the Grecian Prints lost this day, Thou hast revenged, therefore be thine the fame, Which with a general voice Greece shall proclaim. Princes we thank you, 'tis mine given me free. Which fair Atlanta we bestow on thee. Ha, to a woman. And so many men, Engaged in't, call back thy gift again. Greece is by this disparaged, and our fame Foully eclipsed. Snatched from that emulous Dame. Murmur you Lords at Meleager's bounty, We first bestowed it as our own by gift, Yea, and by right, but now we render it To bright Atlanta, as her own by due As she that from the Boar the first blood drew. We must not suffer this disgrace to Greece. Let women claim 'mongst women eminence, Our Lofty spirits, that honour have in chase, Cannot digest wrongs womanish and base. Restore this woman and thy sex envy For fortitude, aim not at quests so high. Castor forbear. He gives but what's his own. 'tis the king's bounty, By the immortal Gods, That gave us this days honour, the same hand By which the Calidonian terror fell, Shall him that frowns or murmurs launch to hell. That will we try. Then rescue for Atlanta, This day shall fall for thee, that art divine, Monsters more savage than Diana's swine. No more, no more, behold your uncles slain, Save in this act two Noble Gentlemen, Pursue not fury to the spoil of Greece, And death of more brave Princes: let your rage Be here confined, cut off this purple stream In his mid course, and turn this torrent back Which in his fury else may drowned us all. I second Iason and expose myself, Between these factions to compose a peace. we have done too much already, impious fury, How boundless is thy power: uncircumscribed By thought or reason, thouart all violence, Thy end repentance, sorrow and distaste: How will Althaea take her brother's death From her son's hand, but rash deeds executed May be lamented, never be recalled Shall the survivors be atoned? So it be done with honour on both parts we have swords to guard our fortunes and our lives, And but an equal language will keep both Thus at the point. join hands renowned Princes, The fury of the Prince of Calidon Hath preyed but on his own, there let it end, No further by your urgent spleens extend. We are appeased. Lords freely then embrace.
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)
Thou stodst his violence, Tl thy sharpe Iauelin grated gainst his broines, Beneath his shield thou entred'st to his heart. At that we guirt him till a thousand wounds, Hee from a thousand hands receiu'd at once: And in his fall it seem'd the earth did groane, And the fixt Center tremble vnder him. The spoile is thine, the yong Adonis death, Anceus slaughter, and the massacre Of Archas, Pelagon, Eupateinon And all the Grecian Printes lost this day, Thou hast reueng'd, therefore be thine the fame, Which with a generall voyce Greece shall proclaime. Princes wee thanke you, 'tis mine giuen me free. Which faire Atlanta we bestow on thee. Ha, to a woman. And so many men, Ingag'd in't, call backe thy gift againe. Greece is by this disparaged, and our fame Fowly eclipst. Snatch't from that emulous Dame. Murmur you Lords at Meleagers bounty, We first bestow'd it as our owne by guift, Yea, and by right, but now we render it To bright Atlanta, as her owne by due As shee that from the Boare the first bloud drew. We must not suffer this disgrace to Greece. Let women claime 'mongst women eminence, Our Lofty spirits, that honour haue in chace, Cannot disgest wrongs womanish and base. Restore this woman and thy sex enuy For fortitude, aime not at quests so hye. Castor forbeare. Hee giues but what's his owne. Tis the Kings bounty, By the immortall Gods, That gaue vs this daies honour, the same hand By which the Calidonian terror fell, Shall him that frownes or murmurs lanch to hell. That will we try. Then reskue for Atlanta, This day shall all for thee, that art diuine, Monsters more sauadge then Dianaes wine. No more, no more, behold your vnkles slaine, Saue in this act two Noble Gentlemen, Pursue not fry to the spoile of Greece, And death of more braue Princes: let your rage Be here confin'de, cut off this purple streame In his mid course, and turne this torrent backe Which in his fury else may drown'd vs all. I second Iason and expose my selfe, Betweene these factions to compose a peace. Wee haue done too much already, mpious fury, How boundlesse is thy power: vncircumscribed By thought or reason, th'art all violence, Thy end repentance, sorrow and distast: How will Althea take her brothers death From her sons hand, but rash deeds executed May be lamented, neuer be recal'd Shall the suruiuers bee atton'd? So it be done with honour on both parts Wee haue swords to guard our fortunes and our liues, And but an equall language will keepe both Thus at the point. Ioyne hands renowned Princes, The fury of the Prince of Calidon Hath prey'd but on his owne, there let it end, No further by your vrgent spleenes extend. We are appeas'd. Lords freely then embrace.