HERCULES

Have we the Cleonean Lyons torn? And decked our shoulders in their honoured spoils? The Calidoni Boar crushed with our Club? The rude Thessalian Centaurs sunk beneath Our Iuiall hand? pierced hell? bound Cerber ? And buffeted so long, till from the foam The dog belched forth strong Aconitum spring? And shall a petty river make our way To Deianeira's bed impassable? Know then the pettiest stream that flows through Greece, Il'e make thee run thy head below thy banks, Make read thy waters with thy vital blood, And spill thy waves in drops as small as tears, If thou presumest to cope with Hercules. Me Achelous! I can do more then this: love Deianeira, Swin with her on my shoulders through thy streams, And with my huge Club Beatrice thy torrents back, With thine own waters quench infernal fires Thy figure serpentine, flat on the earth: And when th'art Bull, catch fast hold by thy horns, And whirl thee about my head thus into air. Thou fair Aetolian dame, I cannot woo, Nor paint my passion in smooth Oratory, But fight for thee I can, against Achelous, Or all the horrid monsters of the earth. See, I am addressed With this to thunder on thy captive crest. I cannot bellow in thy bombast phrase; Nor deaf these free spectators with my braves. I cut off words with deeds, and now behold For me, the echo of my blows thus scold. Be'st thou a God or hellhound thus transhap't, Thy terror frights not me, serpent or devil Il'e pash thee. Fright us with fire? our Club shall quench thy flame, And Beatrice it down to hell, from whence it came. What, yet more monsters? Serpent, Bull, and Fire, Shall all alike taste great Alcides ire. We take but what our valour purchased us, And beauteous Queen thou shalt assure his love, Whose puissant arm shall awe the triple world, And make the greatest Monarchs of the earth To thy divinest beauty tributary. Thanks Meleager, sojourn here we cannot, My stepdame luno tasks me to more dangers: We take thy beauteous sister in our guard, Whom by Jove's aid we straight will bear to Thebes. Dares Deyaneira trust her persons safety With us a stranger, only known by Fame. Thou art as safe as if immured in heaven, Paled with that Crystal wall that girts loves house, Where all the Gods inhabit, built by fate, Stay, I should know that Centaur. Deyaneira, daughter to the Aetolian King, Sister to Meleager, now our Bride; Won by the force of arms from Achelous, The boisterous flood that flows through Calidon. We are bound for Thebes, but soft, what torrent's this That intercepts our way? How shall we pass These raging streams? I'll pay thee for thy waftage Centaur, well, And make thee Prince of all thy by-form'd raze, If thou willt do this grace to Hercules: But ferry her with safety, for by Jove, If thou but make her tremble in these streams, Or let the least wave dash against her skirt; If the least fear of drowning pale her cheek, I'll pound thee smaller then the Autumn dust Tossed by the warring winds? Receive her Centaur, and in her the wealth And potency of mighty Hercules. 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 Plows up the streams: thou through the swelling tides, Sailest with a freight more rich and beautiful, Then the best ship cramed 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 Deyanira on his shoulders fits As safe, as if she stear'd a pinetree bark. They grow now towards the shore: my club and arms I'll first cast over the deep Evenus ford, But from my side my quiver shall not partly, Nor this my trusty bow. 'Twas Deyaneira's voice. 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. After long struggling with Evenus streams, I forced the river bear me on her breast, And land me safely on this further strand, To make and end of what my shaft begun, The life of Nessus, lives the Centaur yet? That the luxurious slave were sensible Of torture; not th'infernals with more pangs Could plague the villain then Alcides should. Ixion's bones racked on the torturing wheel Should be a pastime: the three snake-haired sisters, That la h offenders with their whips of steel, Should seem to dally, when with every string They cut the flesh Like razors: but the dead We hate to touch, as cowardly and base, And venge ce not becoming Hercul S. Come Day eira, first to consummate Our high owsals in triumphant Thebes, That done , our future labours we'll pursue, And by the assistance of the powers Divine, Strive to act more then luno can assign. It's told us that thy name's Laomedon, And that thy beauteous daughter must this day Feed a sea-monster: how wilt thou reward The man that shall encounter Neptune's whale? Tug with that fiend upon thy populous strand, And with my club souse on his armed scales? Hast thou not herd of Theban Hercules? I that have awed the earth, and ransacked hell, Will through the Ocean hunt the God of streams, And chase him from the deep Abismes below. Il'e dare the Sea-god from his watery deeps If he take partly with this Leviathan. We accept them; keep thy faith Laomedon, If thou but breakest with Jove-borne Hercules, These marble structures, built with virgins blood, Il'e raze even with the earth. When comes the monster? I see him sweep the sea's along. Blow rivers through his nostrils as he glides, As if he meant to quench the Suns brightfire, And bring a palped darkness over the earth: He opens his jaws as if to swallow Troy, And at one yawn whole thousands to destroy. Take along This beauteous Lady, if he must have pray, In stead of her Alcides here will stay. Gramercy Jason, see he comes in tempest, Il'e meet him in a storm as violent, And with one stroke which this right hand shall aim, Ding him into th'abisse from whence he came. Why does not Troy's King from those walls descend? And since I have redeemed Hesion, Present my travels with two milkwhite steeds, The prize of my endeavours? The Sea never bred a monster half so vile As this Land-fiend. Darft threaten Hercules? Would universal Troy were in one frame, That I might whelm it on thy cursed head, And crown thee in thy ruin. Menace us? Laom done, Il'e toss thee from thy walls, Batter thy gates to shivers with my Club, Nor will I leave these broad Scamander plains, Till thy aspiring Towers of Illium Lie level with the place on which we stand. You sway me princes: farewell treacherous King, Nought, save thy blood, shall satisfy this wrong And base dishonour done to Hercules. Expect me; for by Olimpicke I e I swear. Near to set foot within my native Thebes, See Deianeira, or to touch in Greecs, Till I'haue scaled these mures, invaded Troy, Ransacked thy City, slain Laomedon, And venge the Gods that govern Sea and Sun. Come valiant Heroes, first the fleece to enjoy, And in our back return to ransack Troy. Oetes, know Peril's a babe, the greater dangers threaten The greater is his honour that breaks through. Have we in the Ago rowed with sixty oars And at each Oar a Prince; pierced Samo-thrace, The Chersoneson sea, the Hellespont; Even to the waves that break on Colchos sho res? And Shall we with dishonour turn to Greece? Know Oetes, not the least of sixty Heroes That now are in thy Confines, but thy monsters Dare quell and baffle. Pursue the chase even to the gates of Troy, Then call th'ingrate Loamedon to parlee. We will call him to parlee. Laomedon, we do not summon thee To parlee, but to warn thee guard thy walls, Which (without pause) we now intend to scale. I listened thy perjurious tongue too late. Scale, batter, mount, assault, sack, and deface, And leave (of Troy ) nought save the name and place. Thus is the tyrant, that but late awed Troy, Buried amid his ruins; he chastised, And we revenged: the spoil of this rich Town Rated as high as Jasons Colchian prize, You shall divide: but first these lofty walls, Built by perjury, and maintained by pride, We'll ruin to the earth: Who saw young Priam? Which shall enrich Thebes, and the towns of Greece, And Telamon, to do thy valour right, For mounting first over the walls of Troy, The first and choice of all the spoil be thine. Receive her Telamon, She is thine own by gift of Hercules. Should all the kings in Asia, or the world, Take partly with Priam in that proud design, Like fate, Like fortune with Laomedon They shall abide: renowned Telamon, She is the warlike purchase of thy sword, Enjoy her as the gift of Hercules. And now brave Grecian Hero's, lets towards Greece With all these honoured spoils from Colchos brought And from the treasures of defaced Troy. Fair Deianeira longs for us in Thebes, Whom we will visit next, and thence proceed Unto our future labours. Cacus lives A bloody tyrant, whom we must remove: And the three-headed Gerion sways in Spain, Notorious for his rapes and outrages; Both these must perish by Alcides hand, And when we can the earth from tyrants clear, In the world's utmost bounds our pillars rear. ex Beauteous Queen, not yet. Before that (lovely fair) Augment my task, unto a Triple chare. For one sweet smile from beauteous Omphale, Il'e lay before thee all the monstrous heads Of the grim tyrants that oppress the earth. I that before, at Juno's strict behest, The hundred giants of Cremonam slew, Will twice five hundred kill for Omphale. Find me a Cacus in a cave of fire, Il'e drag him from the mountain Aventine, And lay his bulk at thy victorious feet. Find me me another Gerion to captive, All his three heads Il'e tumble in thy skirt. Bid me once more sack hell, to bind the furies, Or to present thee with the Gods in chains, It shall be done for beauteous Omphale. O what a sweetness Lives in her looks! no bondage, or base slavery Seems servitude, while I may freely gaze (And uncontrolled) on her: but for one smile, Il'e make her Empress over the triple world, And all the beauteous Queens from East to West, The Lydians vassals, and my fellow-slaves. There is no Lord but Love, no vassailage But in affection, and th'Emperious Queen Does tyrannise over captive Hercules. I shall. Hath Jason, Nestor, Castor, Telamon, Atreus, Pollux, all forgotten their friend? We are the man. And are not we the man? see Telamon, A woman do this? we would see the Theban, That Cacus slew, Busiris sacrificed, And to his horses hurled stern Diomed To be devoured. Stay Lords. For that Thebans sake Whom you profess to love, and came to seek, Abide awhile, and by my love to Greece, Il'e bring before you that lost Hercules, For whom you came to inquire. How have I lost my self? Did we all this? where is that spirit become That was in us? no marvel Hercules, If thou be'st strange to them, that thus disguised, Art to thy self unknown. Hence with this distaff And base effeminate chares. Pardon great Omphale. Who named my Deianeira? Jason you? How fares my love? how fares my beauteous wife? I know these presents, did they come from her? What strumpet's this that hath detained my soul? Captived my fame, trans-shaped me to a fool? Made me (of late) but little less then God, Now scarce a man? Hence with these womanish tires, And let me once more be my self again. Who spoke? O Deianeira. Would Omphale? By Jove she shall not, first I'll rend these eyes out, That sotted with the love of Omphale Hath transhape me, and deeply injured her. Come we will shake off this effeminacy And by our deeds repurchase our renown. Jason and you brave Greeks, I know you now, And in your honours I behold my self What I have be, hence Strumpet Omphale, I cast thee off, and once more will resume My native virtues, and to prove this good This day unto the Gods I'll sacrifice To grace which pomp, and that we may appear The same we were, before us shall be born These of our labours twelve, the memory, Unto Jove's Temple, grace us worthy Heroes To assist us in this high solemnity. While we upon our manly shoulders bear These massy pillars we in Gades must rear. Now Jove behold us from thy sphere of Stars, And shame not to acknowledge us thy sons. Thus should Alcides march amid his spoils, Inguirt with slaughtered Lyons, Hydra's, Whale's, Boars, Bulls, grim Tyrants, Hellhounds, Monsters, Furies, And Princes his spectators: o you Gods, To whom this day we consecrate your prayers, And dedicate our sacred orisons, Dame us your cies, behold these shoulders bear Two brazen pillars, trophies of our fame, That have eased Atlas, and supported heaven, And had we shrunk beneath that heavenly structure The Spheres, Orbs, Planets, Zeniths, Signs, and Stars, With loves high Palace, all confusedly Had shattered, fallen, and overwhelmed earth and sea, We have done that, and all these labours else, Which we this day make sacred, lune see These we surrender to thy love and thee. More welcome is this gift to Hercules Then Jason's Fleece, Laomedon's white Steeds, Or should Jove grace me with eternity, Here stand our pillars, with non ultra insculpt, Which we must rear beyond the Pyrene Hills At Gades in Spain ( Alcides utmost bounds) While we put on this shirt, the welcome present Of Deyianeira, whom we dearly love, Lychas thy hand, In this we'll sacrifice And make our peace with her and Jupiter. With this her present, I put on her love, Witness heaven, earth, and all you Peers of Greece, I wed her once more in this ornament, Her love and her remembrance fit to me More near by thousands then this robe can cleave. So now before Jove's Altar let us kneel, And make our peace with heaven, atone our self With beauteous Dyaneira our chased wife And cast away the love of Omphale. O, o. No more, are all the furies with their tortures, Their whips and lashes crept into my skin? Hath any sightless and infernal fire Laid hold upon my flesh? when did Alcides Thus shake with anguish? thus change face, thus shrink? Shall torture pale our cheek? no, Priest proceed, We will not feel the pain, thou shalt not breed, Priest no more, I'll rend thy Typet, hurl Jove's Altars down, Havoc his Offerings, all his Lamps extinguish, Raze his high Temples, and scale heaven it self Unless he stay my tortures. I will not Jason, cannot Tellamon, A stipticke poison boils within my veins, Hell is within me, for my marrow fries, A vulture worse then that Promotheus feels, F ers on my entrails, and my bulk in flames. Well, I will, See Jason, see renowned Tellamon I will be well, I'll feel no poison boil, Though my blood scaled me, though my hight suspires, Blast where I breath Like lightning, though my lungs Sees in my blood, I will not pale a cheek, Nor change a brow, I will not, spite of torture Anguish, and pain, I will not. To pluck the Thunderer from his Crystal thron And throw the Gallaxia, by the locks, And amber tresses, drag the Queen of heaven. Princes, Jason, Tellamon, Help me to tear of this infernal shirt, Which raws me where it cleaves, unskin my brawns, And Like one naked rolled in a Tun of spikes Of thousands, make one universal wound, And such is mine: o Deyaneira false, Treacherous, unkind, disloyal; pluck, tear, rend Though you my bones leave naked, and my flesh Frying with poison you cast hence to dogs. Dread Neptune, let me plunge me in thy seas, To cool my body, that is all on flame. Or with thy tri-sulke thunder strike me Jove, And so let fire quench fire, unhand me Lords, Let me spurn mountains down, and tear up rock Rend by the roots huge Oaks, till I have dug A way to hell, or found a scale to heaven. Something I must, my torments are so great, To quench this flame and qualify this heat. Lychas, Lychas, where's he that brought this poisoned shirt, That I may tear the villain limb from limb. And flake his body small as Winter's snow, His shattered flesh shall play Like parched leaves, And dance in th'aire, tossed by the summer winds. O that with stamping thus, I could my self beneath the Centre sink, And tomb my tortured body beneath hell. Had I heavens massy columns in my gripes, Then with one sway I would or'e-turne yond frame, And make the marble Elemental sky My Tombstone to enterre dead Hercules. O father Jove thou laist upon thy son Torments above supporture, Lichas, o! I'll chase the villain over Oeta's rocks, Till I have naked those hills, and left no shade To hide the Traitor. Stay, stay, what's he that creeps into yond cave? Is not that Lyca's Dyaneira's squire, That brought this poisoned shirt to Hercules? I thank thee Jove, yet this is some allayment And moderation to the pangs I feel, Nay, you shall out fir Lychas by the heals. Down, down, you shadows that crown Oetam Mount, And as you tumble bear the Rocks along. I will not leave and 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? Art thou not Deyaneira come to mock Alcides madness, and his pangs deride? Yes, thou art she, thou, thou hast fier'd my bones, And makest 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 Deyaneira and her squire are now Both in their sins extinct. 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. Thanks, thus I throne me in the amid of fire, And with a dreadless brow confront my death. Olimpicke thunderer now behold thy son, Of whose divine parts make a star, that Atlas May shrink beneath the weight of Hercules. And stepdame , 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 Gerion, 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 Lernean Hydra, and Arcadian Boar, The Lion of Naemea, Steeds of Thrace, The monster Cacus; thousands more then these, That Hercules in death dares thee to chide, And shows his spirit, which torments cannot hide. Lie there thou dread of Tyrants, and thou skin, Invulner'd still, burn with thy masters bones: For these be arms which none but we can wield. My bow and arrows Philoctetes take, Reserve them as a token of our love, For these include the utmost fate of Troy, Which without these; the Greeks can never destroy. You Hero's all farewell, heap fire on fire, And pile on pile, till you have made a structure To flame as high as heaven, and record this Though by the Gods and Fates we are overthrown, Alcides die by no hand but his own. Hadst thou not stooped thy horrid Taurine shape I would have piecemeal rend, and thy tough hide Torn into rags as thick as Autumn leaves: Take thee thy life, and with thy life that spoil Plucked from thy mangled front, give me my love, I'll stoare no horns at winning of a wife. Give me bright Deyanira, take that horn, So late from thy disfigured Temples torn. O Nessus, thou of all thy cloud-bred raze, Alone didst escape by trusting to thy heals At Hypodamia's Bridals, but we now Are friends, are we not Nessus? I'll send till I can come, this poisonous shaft Shall speak my fury and extract thy blood, Till I my self can cross this raging flood. Oetes, owe is this rich and precious Fleece, By Jasons sword repurchast, and must turn Unto the place whence Phrixus brought his Ram. Hold, lust-burnt Centaur, it's Alcides calls Or swifter then Jove's lightning, my fierce vengeance Shall cross Evenus. Not loves guard Can circl her with more security. Time calls us hence, Aetolian Lords farewell.