Marlowe, Christopher · published 1590 · first performed or written 1587 [1587-1588] (Annals) tragedy · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men T17 Eastern conquest: Persians, Turks and so typicality 0.77 · 486 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
Ah villains, dare ye touch my sacred arms. O Mahomet, Oh sleepy Mahomet. O cursed Mahomet that makest us thus The slaves to Scythians rude and barbarous. Come bring them in, & for this happy conquest Triumph, and solemnize a martial feast. AWake ye men of Memphis, hear the clang Of Scythian trumpets, hear the Basilisks, That roaring, shake Damascus turrets down, The rogue of Volga holds zenocrate, The soldan's daughter for his Concubine, And with a troup of thieves and vagabonds. Hath spread his colours to our high disgrace: While you fainthearted base Egyptians, Lie slumbering on the flowery banks of Nile, As Crocodiles that unaffrighted rest, While thundering Cannons rattle on their Skins. Nay (mighty soldan) did your greatness see The frowning looks of fiery Tamburlaine, That with his terror and imperious eyes, Commands the hearts of his associates, It might amaze your royal majesty. Villain. I tell thee, were that tamburlaine, As monstrous as Gorgon, prince of Hell, The Soldan would not start a foot from him. But speak, what power hath he? Mighty Lord, Three hundred thousand men in armour clad, Upon their prancing Steeds, disdainfully With wanton paces trampling on the ground. Five hundred thousand footmen threatening shot, Shaking their swords, their spears and iron bills, Environing their Standard round, that stood As bristle-pointed as a thorny wood. Their warlike Engines and munition Exceed the forces of their martial men. Nay could their numbers countervail the stars Or ever drizzling drops of April showers, Or withered leaves that autumn shaketh down. Yet would the Soldan by his conquering power: So scatter and consume them in his rage, That not a man should live to rue their fall, So might your highness, had you time to sort Your fighting men, and raise your royal host. But tamburlaine, by expedition Advantage takes of your unreadiness. Let him take all th'advantages he can, Were all the world conspired to fight for him, Nay, were he Devil, as he is no man, Yet in revenge of fair Zenocrate, Whom he detaineth in despite of us, This arm should send him down to Erebus. To shroud his shame in darkness of the night. Pleaseth your mightiness to understand, His resolution far exceedeth all: The first day when he pitcheth down his tents, White is their hue, and on his silver crest A snowy Feather spangled white he bears, To signify the mildness of his mind. That satiate with spoil refuseth blood: But when Aurora mounts the second time, As red as scarlet is his furniture, Then must his kindled wrath be quenched with blood. Not sparing any that can manage arms: But if these threats move not submission. Black are his colours, black Pavilion, His spear, his shield, his horse, his armour, plumes, And jetty Feathers menace death and hell, Without respect of Sex, degree or age. He raceth all his foes with fire and sword.
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)
Ah villaines, dare ye touch my sacred armes. O Mahomet, Oh sleepie Mahomet. O cursed Mahomet that makest vs thus The slaues to Scythians rude and barbarous. Come bring them in, & for this happy cōquest Triumph, and solemnize a martiall feast. AWake ye men of Memphis, heare the clange Of Scythian trumpets, heare the Basiliskes, That roaring, shake Damascus turrets downe, The rogue of Volga holds zenocrate, The Souldans daughter for his Concubine, And with a troope of theeues and vagabondes. Hath spread his collours to our high disgrace: While you faint-hearted base Egyptians, Lie slumbering on the flowrie bankes of Nile, As Crocodiles that vnaffrighted rest, While thundring Cannons rattle on their Skins. Nay (mightie Souldan) did your greatnes see The frowning lookes of fiery Tamburlaine, That with his terrour and imperious eies, Commandes the hearts of his associates, It might amaze your royall maiesty. Villain. I tell thee, were that tamburlaine, As monstrous as Gorgon, prince of Hell, The Souldane would not start a foot from him. But speake, what power hath he? Mightie Lord, Three hundred thousand men in armour clad, Vpon their pransing Steeds, didainfully With wanton paces trampling on the ground. Fiue hundred thousand footmen threatning shot, Shaking their swords, their speares and yron bils, Enuironing their Standard round, that stood As bristle-pointed as a thorny wood. Their warlike Engins and munition Exceed the forces of their martial men. Nay could their nūbers counteruail the stars Or euer drisling drops of Aprill snowers, Or withered leaues that Autume shaketh downe. Yet would the Souldane by his conquering power: So scatter and consume them in his rage, That not a man should liue to rue their fall, So might your highnesse, had you time to sort Your fighting men, and raise your royall hoste. But tamburlaine, by expedition Aduantage takes of your vnreadinesse. Let him take all th'aduantages he can, Were all the world conspird to sight for him, Nay, were he Deuill, as he is no man, Yet in reuenge of faire Zenocrate, Whom he detameth in despight of vs, This arme should send him downe to Erebus. To shroud his shame in darknes of the night. Pleaseth your mightinesse to vnderstand, His resolution far exceedeth all: The first day when he pitcheth downe his tentes, White is their hew, and on his siluer crest A snowy Feather spangled white he beares, To signify the mildnesse of his minde. That satiate with spoile refuseth blood: But when Aurora mounts the second time, As red as scarlet is his furniture, Then must his kindled wrath bee quencht with blood. Not sparing any that can manage armes: But if these threats mooue not submission. Black are his collours, blacke Pauilion, His speare, his shield, his horse, his armour, plumes, And Ietty Feathers menace death and hell, Without respect of Sex, degree or age. He raceth all his foes with fire and sword.