Marlowe, Christopher · published 1590 · first performed or written 1588 [1587-1588] (Annals) tragedy · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men T17 Eastern conquest: Persians, Turks and so typicality 0.77 · 497 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
Take pity of a lady's ruthful tears, That humbly craves upon her knees to stay, And cast her body in the burning flame, That feeds upon her sons and husband's flesh. Madam, sooner shall fire consume us both, Then scorch a face so beautiful as this. In frame of which, Nature hath showed more skill, Than when she gave eternal Chaos form, Drawing from it the shining Lamps of heaven. Madam, I am so far in love with you, That you must go with us, no remedy. Then carry me I care not where you will, And let the end of this my fatal journey, Be likewise end to my accursed life. No Madam, but the beginning of your joy, Come willingly, therefore. soldiers now let us meet the General, Who by this time is at Natolia, Ready to charge the army of the Turk. The gold, the silver, and the pearl ye got, Rifling this Fort, divide in equal shares: This Lady shall have twice so much again, Out of the coffers of our treasury. Renowned Emperor, mighty Callepine, God's great lieutenant over all the world: Here at Aleppo with an host of men Lies Tamburlaine, this king of Persia: In number more than are the quivering leaves Of Ida's forest, where your highness hounds, With open cry pursues the wounded Stag: Who means to girt Anatolia's walls with siege, Fire the town and overrun the land. My royal army is as great as his, That from the bounds of Phrigia to the sea Which washeth Cyprus with his brinish waves, Covers the hills, the valleys and the plains. viceroys and Peers of Turkey play the men, Whet all your swords to mangle Tamburlaine His sons, his Captains and his followers, By Mahomet not one of them shall live. The field wherein this battle shall be fought, For ever, term, the Perseans sepulchre, In memory of this our victory. Now, he that calls himself the scourge of Ioue, The Emperor of the world, and earthly God, Shall end the warlike progress he intends, And travail headlong to the lake of hell: Where legions of devils knowing he must die Here in Natolia, by your highness hands) All brandishing their brands of quenchless fire, Stretching their monstrous paws, grin with their teeth. And guard the gates to entertain his soul. Tell me Viceroys the number of your men, And what our Army royal is esteemed. From Palestina and Ierusalem, Of Hebrews, three score thousand fighting men Are come since last we showed your majesty. So from Arabia desert, and the bounds Of that sweet land, whose brave Metropolis re-edified the fair Semiramis, Came forty thousand warlike foot and horse, Since last we numbered to your Majesty. From trebizon in Asia the less, Naturalised Turks and stout Bythinians Came to my bands full fifty thousand more, That fighting, knows not what retreat doth mean, Nor ere return but with the victory, Since last we numbered to your majesty.
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)
Take pitie of a Ladies ruthfull teares, That humbly craues vpon her knees to stay, And cast her bodie in the burning flame, That feeds vpon her sonnes and husbands flesh. Madam, sooner shall fire consume vs both, Then scortch a face so beautiful as this. In frame of which, Nature hath shewed more skill, Than when she gae eternall Chaos forme, Drawing from it the shining Lamps of heauen. Madam, I am so far in loue with you, That you must goe with vs, no remedy. Then carie me I care not where you will, And let the end of this my fatall iourney, Be likewise end to my accursed life. No Madam, but the beginning of your ioy, Come willinglie, therfore. Souldiers now let vs meet the Generall, Who by this time is at Natolia, Ready to charge the army of the Turke. The gold, the siluer, and the pearle ye got, Rifling this Fort, deuide in equall shares: This Lady shall haue twice so much againe, Out of the coffers of our treasurie. REnowmed Emperour, mighty Callepine, Gods great lieftenant ouer all the world: Here at Alepo with an hoste of men Lies Tamburlaine, this king of Persea: In number more than are the quyuering leaues Of Idas forrest, where your highnesse hounds, With open crie pursues the wounded Stag: Who meanes to gyrt Natolias walles with siege, Fire the towne and ouerrun the land. My royal army is as great as his, That from the bounds of Phrigia to the sea Which washeth Cyprus with his brinish waues, Couers the hils, the valleies and the plaines. Viceroies and Peeres of Turky play the men, Whet all your swords to mangle Tamburlain His sonnes, his Captaines and his followers, By Mahomet not one of them shal liue. The field wherin this battaile shall be fought, For euer, terme, the Perseans sepulchre, In memorie of this our victory. Now, he that cals himself the scourge of Ioue, The Emperour of the world, and earthly God, Shal end the warlike progresse he intends, And traueile hedlong to the lake of hell: Where legions of deuils knowing he must die Here in Natolia, by your highnesse hands) All brandishing their brands of quenchlesse fire, Streching their monstrous pawes, grin with their teeth. And guard the gates to entertaine his soule. Tel me Viceroies the number of your men, And what our Army royall is esteem'd. From Palestina and Ierusalem, Of Hebrewes, three score thousand fighting men Are come since last we shewed your maiesty. So from Arabia desart, and the bounds Of that sweet land, whose braue Metropolis Reedified the faire Semyramis, Came forty thousand warlike foot and horse, Since last we numbred to your Maiesty. From trebizon in Asia the lesse, Naturalized Turks and stout Bythinians Came to my bands full fifty thousand more, That fighting, knowes not what retreat doth meane, Nor ere returne but with the victory, Since last we numbred to your maiesty.