Far greater these, than those which erst befel
From the dire terror of thy consort, Jove;
E'en stern Eurystheus' dire command above;
This of thy daughter, Œneus, is the fruit,
Beguiling me with her envenom'd suit,
Whose close embrace doth on my entrails prey,
Consuming life; my lungs forbid to play;
The blood forsakes my veins, my manly heart
Forgets to beat; enervated, each part
Neglects its office, whilst my fatal doom