Dekker, Thomas / Middleton, Thomas · published 1639 · first performed or written 1639 [c.1617-1639] (Annals) tragedy · Queen Anne's Men (?) unassigned nearest T17 Eastern conquest: Persians, Turks and so · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
After the waste of many thousand wounds Given and received alike, in seven set battles, Lydia's old King upon conditions signed For Peace and truce, entered on feigned league With his fierce enemy the Lycian King Gave him in Hostage as his pledge of faith, His Nephew, Lord Lapyrus, and received Noble Zantippus from the Lycian; To make the contract full and honourable, This Lord Lapyrus entertained and welcomed But chiefly by the fair Eurymone The king's sole daughter, who unto Lapyrus Offers her as his Bride, so he would turn A Traitor to his Country and his King: Lapyrus, to obtain the beauteous maid Turns Traitor to his King, and joins his force Unto his fair love's Fathers, Lycia's Kings; Th' old King of Lydia being so beset By his own Nephews unexpected treacheries, Sent forth his son Tymethes to crave aid From Armatrites King of great Cilicia, Which he obtained in a disastrous hour As the event will witness; In this trouble The frighted Queen with her two Infants fled Into a Forest, fearing the sad ruin Hourly expected, until Armatrites With a fresh Army forced Lapyrus fly And saved the King, doomed for worse treachery. What follows shows itself; 'tis our full due, If we with labour give content to you. Speranza. Long live Armatrites King of Lydia. How? Art thou amazed old King, and all thy people Mutually labouring in a fit of wonder? Start from those palē dreams, we will prove all true, Who wins the day the brightness is his due. King of Cilicia. I and Lydia now, Bate us not our Titles, we and ours Have sweat and dearly earned them in our flesh. It savours not of nobleness nor virtue, Religion, loyalty, heaven or natures laws So most perfidiously to enter, Tyrant, Where was, expected honesty and honour, Assistance from a friend, not a dissembler, A Royal neighbour and no politic foe. What worse than this could th' enemy perform? And when shines friendship best but in a storm? Why, doting Lydia, is it of no virtue To bring our Army hither and put in venture Our person and their lives upon our foes? Wasting our courage, weakening our best forces; Impoverishing the heart of our munition, And having won the honour of the battle To throw our glory on unworthy spirits, And so unload victories honey thighs To let Drones seed? Will nothing satisfy but all? Without all, nothing. The Kingdom and not under suits our blood, Flies ate are not Eagles preys nor thanks our food: And for Cilicia our other sphere, Our son Zenarchus let thy beams move there. Rather, my Lord, let me move pity here, Unto that reverend fate-afflicted King; For whom, with his disconsolate son (my friend And plighted Brother) I here kneel as Suitor. Oh my most Noble Father, still retain The seal of honour and religion, A Kingdom rightly possessed by course, Contains more joy than is usurped by force.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T6 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
After the waste of many thousand wounds Given and receiv'd alike, in seaven set battailēs, Lydia's old King upon conditions sign'd For Peace and truce, enter'd onfeigned league With his fierce enemy the Lycian King Gave him in Hostage as his pledge of faith, His Nephew, Lord Lapyrus, and receiv'd Noble Zantippus from the Lycian; To make the contract full and honourable, This Lord Lapyrus entertain'd and wellcom'd But chiefely by the faire Eurymone The Kings sole daughter, who unto Lapyrus Offers her as his Bride, so he would turne A Traytor to his Country and his King: Lapyrus, to obtaine the beautious mayd Turnes Traytor to his King, and joynes his forcē Vnto his faire loves Fathers, Lycia's King▪ Th' old King of Lydia being so beset By his owne Nephews unexpected trechēries, Sent forth his sonne Tymethes to crave ayd From Armatrites King of great Cilicia, Which he obtain'd in a disastrous houre As the event will witnesse; In this trouble The frighted Queene with her two Infants fled Into a Forrest, fearing the sad ruine Hourely expected, untill Armatrites With a fresh Army forc'd Lapyrus flye And sav'd the King, doom'd for worse treachery. What followes shewes it selfe; tis our full due, If we with labour give content to you. Speranza. Long live Armatrites King of Lydia. How? Art thou amaz'd old King, and all thy people Mutually labouring in a fit of wonder? Start from those palē dreames, we will prove all true, Who wins the day the brightnesse is his due. King of Cilicia. I and Lydia now, Bate us not our Titles, we and ours Have sweate and dearely earn'd them in our flesh. It savors not of noblenesse nor vertue, Religion, loyalty, heaven or natures lawes So most perfidiously to enter, Tyrant, Where was, expected honesty and honour, Assistance from a friend, not a dissembler, A Royall neighbour and no politique foe. What worse than this could th' enemy performe? And when shines friendship best but in a storme? Why, doating Lydia, is it of no vertue To bring our Army hither and put in venture Our person and their lives upon our foes? Wasting our courage, weakning our best forces; Impoverishing the heart of our munition, And having wonne the honour of the battaile To throw our glory on unworthy spirits, And so unload victories honey thighes To let Droanes seede? Will nothing satisfie but all? Without all, nothing. The Kingdome and not under suites our blood, Flyes ate are not Eagles preyes nor thankes our food: And for Cilicia our other spheare, Our sonne Zenarchus let thy beames move there. Rather, my Lord, let me move pitty here, Vnto that reverend fate-afflicted King; For whom, with his disconsolate sonne (my friend And plighted Brother) I here kneele as Sutor. Oh my most Noble Father, still retaine The seale of honour and religion, A Kingdome rightly possessed by course, Containes more joy than is usurpt by force.