Marlowe, Christopher · published 1590 · first performed or written 1588 [1587-1588] (Annals) tragedy · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men unassigned nearest T34 Thebes and royal catastrophe: siege, sla · 472 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T34: thebes, antigone, polynices, creon, eteocles, war, theban, gods, dear, country.
even straight: and farewell cursed Tamburlaine. Now go I to revenge my father's death. NOw bright zenocrate, the world's fair eye, Whose beams illuminate the lamps of heaven, Whose cheerful looks do clear the cloudy air And clothe it in a crystal livery, Now rest thee here on fair Larissa Plains, Where Egypt and the Turkish Empire parts, Between thy sons that shall be Emperors, And every one Commander of a world. Sweet Tamburlaine, when wilt thou leave these arms And save thy sacred person free from scathe: And dangerous chances of the wrathful war. When heaven shall cease to move on both the poles when the ground whereon my soldiers march Shall rise aloft and touch the horned Moon, And not before my sweet zenocrate: Sit up and rest thee like a lovely Queen. So, now she sits in pomp and majesty: When these my sons, more precious in mine eyes Than all the wealthy kingdoms I subdued: Placed by her side, look on their mother's face, But yet methinks their looks are amorous, Not martial as the sons of Tamburlaine Water and air being symbolised in one: Argue their want of courage and of wit, Their hair as white as milk and soft as Down. Which should be like the quills of Porcupines. As black as jet, and hard as Iron or steel, Bewrays they are too dainty for the wars. Their fingers made to quaver on a Lute, Their arms to hang about a Lady's neck: Their legs to dance and caper in the air: Would make me think them Bastards, not my sons, But that I know they issued from thy womb, That never looked on man but Tamburlaine. My gracious Lord, they have their mothers looks But when they list, their conquering father's heart: This lovely boy the youngest of the three, Not long ago bestrid a Scythian Steed: Trotting the ring, and tilting at a glove: Which when he tainted with his slender rod, He reigned him straight and made him so curvet, As I cried out for fear he should have fallen, Well done my boy, thou shalt have shield and lance Armour of proof, horse, helm, & Curtle-axe And I will teach thee how to charge thy foe, And harmless run among the deadly pikes. If thou wilt love the wars and follow me, Thou shalt be made a King and reign with me. Keeping in iron cages Emperors. If thou exceed thy elder Brother's worth, And shine in complete virtue more than they, Thou shalt be king before them, and thy seed Shall issue crowned from their mother's womb, Yes father, you shall see me if I live, Have under me as many kings as you, And march with such a multitude of men, As all the world shall tremble at their view.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Euen straight: and farewell cursed Tamburlaine. Now goe I to reuenge my fathers death. NOw bright zenocrate, the worlds faire eie, Whose beames illuminate the lamps of heauē, Whose chearful looks do cleare the clowdy aire And cloath it in a christall liuerie, Now rest thee here on faire Larissa Plaines, Where Egypt and the Turkish Empire parts, Betweene thy sons that shall be Emperours, And euery one Commander of a world. Sweet tamburlain, when wilt thou leaue these armes And saue thy sacred person free from scathe: And dangerous chances of the wrathfull war. When heauen shal cease to mooue on both the poles & when the ground wheron my souldiers march Shal rise aloft and touch the horned Moon, And not before my sweet zenocrate: Sit vp and rest thee like a louely Queene. So, now she sits in pompe and maiestie: When these my sonnes, more procious in mine eies Than all the wealthy kingdomes I subdewed: Plac'd by her side, looke on their mothers face, But yet me thinks their looks are amorous, Not martiall as the sons of Tamburlaine Water and ayre being simbolisde in one: Argue their want of courage and of wit, Their haire as white as milke and soft as Downe. Which should be like the quilles of Porcupines. As blacke as Ieat, and hard as Iron or steel, Bewraies they are too dainty for the wars. Their fingers made to quauer on a Lute, Their armes to hang about a Ladies necke: Their legs to dance and caper in the aire: Would make me thinke them Bastards, not my sons, But that I know they issued from thy wombe, That neuer look'd on man but Tamburlaine. My gratious Lord, they haue their mothers looks But whē they list, their cōquering fathers hart: This louely boy the yongest of the three, Not long agoe bestrid a Scythian Sceed: Trotting the ring, and tilting at a gloue: Which when he tainted with his slender rod, He raign'd him straight and made him so curuet, As I cried out for feare he should haue falne, Wel done my boy, thou shalt haue shield and lance Armour of proofe, horse, helme, & Cuttle-axe And I will teach thee how to charge thy foe, And harmelesse run among the deadly pikes. If thou wilt loue the warres and follow me, Thou shalt be made a King and raigne with me. Keeping in yron cages Emperours. If thou exceed thy elder Brothers worth, And shine in compleat vertue more than they, Thou shalt be king before them, and thy seed Shall issue crowned from their mothers wombe, Yes father, you shal see me if I liue, Haue vnder me as many kings as you, And martch with such a multitude of men, As all the world shall tremble at their view.