Lower, William · published 1639 · first performed or written 1639 [c.1622-1639] (Annals) not in BritDrama T17 Eastern conquest: Persians, Turks and so typicality 0.73 · 484 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
Sir, heavy news, this letter will inform you Sent from the Governor, which to bring hither In a disguised shape, I passed the guards, The trenches and the camp of Geolon, With thousand hazards of my life, all which I reckon not to do my Noble Prince, My Prince Amandus' service. You are welcome, And we congratulate your safe arrival; But in what state did poor Damascus stand When you departed thence? how victualled? How furnished with ammunition was it? How long can it hold out? first I will hear Your sad relation ere I break the seal. O Sir, I'm sorry my unworthy mouth Should be the organ to convey a sound Unto your Princely ears, so harsh as this, So doleful, so unpleasant, I would rather Be silent in a story of such woe; Yet since you do command me, know my Liege The City is distressed for want of food: All their provision is consumed and spent, And nothing left for to sustain their lives. These two months have they fed upon the flesh Of horses, dogs, and cats, now they are driven To such an exigent, as they begin To eat sod leather, yea the excrement Of men and beasts, and which is more, their flesh, Their proper flesh: this day within Damascus, I saw a sight which grieves me to relate, It did appear so horrid, 'twas a woman With hunger pined▪ who had not eat a bit In seven days' space of any sustenance, forced with her knife to cut her infant's throat That sucked upon her breast, to satisfy With its sweet flesh her ravenous appetite: And for the ammunition of the town▪ As powder, bullets, match, and such materials O warre, 'tis almost spent, for three yeeres ege Cannot but empty well the magazine; Yet notwithstanding all this misery, (Such as the like I think was never heard Or seen in any age) they are resolved (So much their loyal hearts affect their Prince) Never to yield the town, so long as any Survives to make resistance, and despise All quarter, all reward that hath been offered By Geolon the Tartar▪ Conso, Where are you now with your Philosophy? You're gone, you're gone, will you preach patience yet To wretched me your pupil? can you open Your mouth to that effect in such a deluge, In such an inundation of my woes? No, 'tis in vain, I can receive no comfort: Open ye watery sluices of mine eyes, And let out tears enough to drown my heart, My heart that's gauled for poor Damascus' sake, And my dear friends within: O had the heavens Showered cataracts upon me, had their plagues Drunk up my moisture, till my shattered bones Had crumbled into dust, had I excused My country with my fall, my peaceful ashes Had filled their urn in silence, whereas now Even life is tedious.
seed 43: T18 · seed 44: T18 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Sir, heavy newes, this letter will inform you Sent from the Governour, which to bring hither In a disguised shape, I pass'd the guards, The trenches and the campe of Geolon, With thousand hazards of my life, all which I reckon not to doe my Noble Prince, My Prince Amandus service. You are welcome, And we congratulate your safe arrivall; But in what state did poore Damascus stand When you departed thence? how victualled? How furnished with ammunition was it? How long can it hold out? first I will heare Your sad relation ere I breake the seale. O Sir, I'm sorry my unworthy mouth Should be the organ to convey a sound Vnto your Princely eares, so harsh as this, So dolefull, so unpleasant, I would rather Be silent in a story of such woe; Yet since you doe command me, know my Liege The City is distress'd for want of food: All their provision is consum'd and spent, And nothing left for to sustaine their lives. These two moneths have they fed upon the flesh Of horses, dogs, and cats, now they are driven To such an exigent, as they begin To eate sod leather, yea the excrement Of men and beasts, and which is more, their flesh, Their proper flesh: this day within Damascus, I saw a sight which grieves me to relate, It did appeare so horrid, 'twas a woman With hunger pin'd▪ who had not eat a bit In seven dayes space of any ustenance, Fore'd with her knife to cut her infants throat That suckt upon her breast, to satisfie With its sweet flsh her ravenous appetite: And for the ammunition of the towne▪ As powder, bullets, match, and such materials O warre, 'tis almost spent, for three yeeres ege Cannot but empty well the magazine; Yet notwithstanding all this misery, (Such as the like I thinke was never heard Or seene in any age) they are resolv'd (So much their loyall hearts affect their Prince) Never to yeeld the towne, so long as any Survives to make resistance, and despise All quarter, all reward that hath been offer'd By Geolon the Tartar▪ Conso, Where are you now with your Philosophy? You'r gone, you'r gone, will you preach patience yet To wretched me your pupill? can you open Your mouth to that ect in such a deluge, In such an inundation of my woes? No, 'tis in vaine, I can receive no comfort: Open ye watry sluces of mine eyes, And let out teares enough to drowne my heart, My heart that's gaul'd for poore Damascus sake, And my deere friends within: O had the heavens Showr'd cataracts upon me, had their plagues Drunke up my moysture, till my shattered bones Had crumbled into dust, had I excus'd My country with my fall, my peacefull ashes Had fill'd their urne in silence, whereas now Even life is tedious.