The Brazen Age (The Age of Brass) · chunk 39 of 40
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 0.88 · 484 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T20: hercules, hercles, ioue, deianeira, alcides, hand, lo, death, skies, hell.
Thus, thus, thy limbs about my head I twine, euboean sea receive him, for he's thine. Princes, his torments are 'bove Physic help, And they that wish him well, must wish his death, For that alone gives period to his anguish. In vain we follow and pursue his rage, There's danger in his madness. Yet aloof, Let's observe him, and great Ioue implore To qualify his pains. As I am Philoctetes I'll not leave him, Until he be immortal, Princes hark, Cannot these groans pierce heaven and move to pity The obdure Iuno. Beneath this rock where we have often kissed, I will lament the noble Thebans fall, The Lydian Omphale will be to him A truer Mistress, than his wife, whose hate Hath brought on him this sad and ominous fate. Nor hence, for any force or prayer remove, But die with him whom I so dearly love. His torments still increase, hear oh you Gods, And hearing pity. Down, down, you shadows that crown Oeta Mount, And as you tumble bear the Rocks along. I will not leave an Oak or standing Pine But all these mountains with the dales make even, That Oeta's self may mourn with Hercules. Hah! what art thou? I am thy Omphale. Art thou not Deianeira come to mock Alcides' madness, and his pangs deride? Yes, thou art she, thou, thou hast fired my bones, And mak'st me boil in poison, for which (minion) And for (by fate) thou hast shortened my renown, Behold, this monstrous rock thy death shall crown, So Deianeira and her squire are now Both in their sins extinct. What hath Alcides done? slain Omphale, A guiltless queen that came to mourn his death. Torment on torment. But shall Hercules Die by a woman's hand? No, aid me Princes, (If you have in you any generous thoughts) In my last fabric: Come, toss trees on trees, Till you have reared me up a funeral pile, Which all that's mortal in me shall consume. Princes, let none deny their free assistance, In his release of torture. there's for me. My hand shall likewise help to bury him, And of his torments give him ease by death. Thanks, thus I throne me in the midst of fire, And with a dreadless brow confront my death. olympic thunderer now behold thy son, Of whose divine parts make a star, that Atlas May shrink beneath the weight of Hercules. And stepdame Iuno, glut thy hatred now, That hast been weary to command, when we Have not been weary to perform and act. I that Busiris slew, Antheus strangled, And conquered still at thy unkind behest, The three-shaped Geryon, and the dog of hell, The Bull of Candy, and the golden Heart, Augeus and the fowls of Stymphaly, The Hesperian fruit, and bolt of Thermidon, The Lernaean Hydra, and Arcadian Boar, The Lion of Nemea, Steeds of Thrace,
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)
Thus, thus, thy limbs about my head I twine, Eubaean sea receiue him, for he's thine. Princes, his torments are 'boue Physicke helpe, And they that wish him well, must wish his death, For that alone giues period to his anguish. In vaine we follow and pursue his rage, There's danger in his madnesse. Yet aloofe, Let's obserue him, and great Ioue implore To qualifie his paines. As I am Philoctetes I'le not leaue him, Vntill he be immortall, Princes harke, Cannot these grones peirce heauen and moue to pitty The obdure Iuno. Beneath this rocke where we haue often kist, I will lament the noble Thebans fall, The Lydian Omphale will be to him A truer Mystresse, then his wife, whose hate Hath brought on him this sad and ominous fate. Nor hence, for any force or prayer remoue, But die with him whom I so deerely loue. His torments still increase, heare oh you Gods, And hearing pitty. Downe, downe, you shadowes that crowne Oeta Mount, And as you tumble beare the Rockes along. I will not leaue an Oake or standing Pine But all these mountaines with the dales make euen, That Oetaes selfe may mourne with Hercules. Hah! what art thou? I am thy Omphale. Art thou not Deyaneira come to mocke Alcides madnesse, and his pangues deride? Yes, thou art she, thou, thou hast fier'd my bones, And mak'st me boyle in poyson, for which (minion) And for (by fate) thou hast shortned my renowne, Behold, this monstrous rocke thy death shal crowne, So Deyaneira and her squire are now Both in their sins extinct. What hath Alcides done? slaine Omphale, A guiltlesse queene that came to mourne his death. Torment on torment. But shall Hercules Dye by a womans hand? No, ayd me Princes, (If you haue in you any generous thoughts) In my last fabricke: Come, tosse trees on trees, Till you haue rear'd me vp a funerall pile, Which all that's mortall in me shall consume. Princes, let none deny their free assistance, In his release of torture. Ther's for me. My hand shall likewise helpe to bury him, And of his torments giue him ease by death. Thanks, thus I throne me in the midst of fire, And with a dreadlesse brow confront my death. Olimpicke thunderer now behold thy sonne, Of whose diuine parts make a starre, that Atlas May shrinke beneath the weight of Hercules. And step-dame , glut thy hatred now, That hast beene weary to command, when we Haue not beene weary to performe and act. I that Busiris slue, Antheus strangled, And conquer'd still at thy vnkinde behest, The three-shap't Gerion, and the dogge of hell, The Bull of Candy, and the golden Hart, Augeus and the fowles of Stymphaly, The Hesperian fruit, and bolt of Thermidon, The Lernean Hydra, and Arcadian Boare, The Lyon of Naemea, Steeds of Thrace,