The Brazen Age (The Age of Brass) · chunk 28 of 40
Heywood, Thomas · published 1613 · first performed or written 1611 [1610-1611] (Annals) classical legend or myth · Queen Anne's Men T24 Apollo, Phoebus and the Muses typicality 0.73 · 487 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T24: apollo, phoebus, midas, muses, ears, play, hedone, gods, siren, time.
The day-star shines and calls me blushing up. From Tithon's bed to harness Phoebus Steeds. My roseate fingers have already stroked The element where light begins to appear, And straight Apollo with his glistering beams, Will guild the East, the Seasons, Months, and Days Attend him in the palace of the Sun. The Hours have brought his Chariot to the gate Of Crystal, where the sun-god mounts his throne, His fiery Steeds have all their traces fet, Th'unruly stallions fed with Ambrosy (With their round hooves shod with the purest gold) Thunder against the Marble floors of Heaven, And wait till Phoebus hath but donned his beams, Which I the blushing Morning still put on. And now's the hour (for thus time fleeteth still) That the Suns up to climb the Eastern hill. Beauteous Aurora, for full twice twelve hours Till in my sphere I have compassed round the world Farewell, I with my beams will dry these tears Thou sheddest at parting; we have chased hence night, And frighted all the twinkling stars from heaven, And now the steep Olimpus we must climb, Till from the high Meridian we peruse The spacious bounds of this large universe, And thence decline our Chariot towards the West, Till we have washed our Coach-steeds and ourself In Ister's icy streams: we with this eye Can all things see that mortals do on earth, And what we find inhuman, or to offend, we tell to Ioue, that he may punish sins. For this I am termed a tell-tale and a blab, And that I nothing can conceal abroad. But let spite spit the worst and wrong me still, Day hateth sins, and light despiseth ill. And now behold a most abhorred deed, Mars beds with Venus, shall not Vulcan know it? By my light he shall; I have seen, and I will tell, The Sun hates sin but crowns them that do well. Venus awake, we have o'erslept ourselves, The sun's above in his diurnal task, I saw his piercing beams pry through a cranny, And cast his right eye full upon our bed. We are betrayed, the blab will tell the Smith, Our love will come to th'ear of Jupiter And all the other Gods, what will Diana Say when she hears of our inchastity? Or how will Iuno take this spouse-breach from us? Nay rather, how will Vulcan taste our sport? He might suspect, but never prove till now, Where is the villain Gallus set to watch? See where he snorts, the slave is dead asleep. Awake thou drowsy Groom, thy chastisement Shall exceed torture. hay ho, what's the matter there, ha? Look, hast thou eyes? is not the Sun two hours Mounted aloft? hath he not seen thee sleeping At the Caves door, Yea beheld us too? More shame for him to look in at anybody's window. Speak, how canst thou excuse this? Oh great God Mars.
seed 43: T29 · seed 44: T27 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
The day-starre shines and cals me blushing vp. From Tithons bed to harnesse Phoebus Steeds. My roseate fingers haue already stroakt The element where light beginnes to appeare, And straight Apollo with his glistering beames, Will guild the East, the Seasons, Months, and Dai Attend him in the pallace of the Sunne. The Howers haue brought his Chariot to the gate Of Christall, where the Sunne-God mounts his throne, His fiery Steeds haue all their traces fet, Th'vnruly stalions fed with Ambrosy (With their round hoofes shod with the purest gold) Thunder against the Marble floores of Heauen, And waite till Phoebus hath but don'd his beames, Which I the blushing Morning still put on. And now's the howre (for thus time fleeteth still) That the Sunnes vp to clime the Easterne hill. Beauteous Aurora, for full twice twelue howers Till in my spheare I haue compast round the world Farewell, I with my beames will dry these teares Thou shedst at parting; we haue chac't hence night, And frighted all the twinkling starres from heauen, And now the steepe Olimpus we must clime, Till from the high Meridian we peruse The spatious bounds of this large vniuerse, And thence decline our Chariot towards the West, Till we haue washt our Coach-steeds and our selfe In Isters icy streames: Wee with this eye Can all things see that mortals do on earth, And what wee find inhumane, or to offend, Wee tell to Ioue, that he may punish sinnes. For this I am term'd a tel-tale and a blab, And that I nothing can conceale abroad. But let spight spit the worst and wrong me still, Day hateth sinnes, and light despiseth ill. And now behold a most abhorred deed, Mars beds with Venus, shall not Vulcan know it? By my light hee shall; I haue seene, and I will tell, The Sunne hates sinne but crownes them that do well. Venus awake, wee haue ore-slept our selues, The Sunne's aboue in his diurnall taske, I saw his piercing beames pry through a cranny, And cast his right eye full vpon our bed. We are betraide, the blab will tell the Smith, Our loue will come to th'eare of upiter And all the other Gods, what will Diana Say when shee heares of our inchastity? Or how will Iuno take this spouse-breach from vs? Nay rather, how will Vulcan tast our sport? He might suspect, but neuer proue till now, Where is the villaine Gallus set to watch? See where he snorts, the slaue is dead asleep. Awake thou drowsy Groome, thy chaflisement Shall exceed torture. Hey ho, what's the matter there, ha? Looke, hast thou eies? is not the Sun two howres Mounted aloft? hath he not seene theesleeping At the Caues dore, Yea beheld vs too? More shame for him to looke in at any bodies window. Speake, how canst thou excuse this? Oh great God Mars.