Marlowe, Christopher · published 1590 · first performed or written 1588 [1587-1588] (Annals) tragedy · Admiral's (Nottingham's) Men unassigned nearest T17 Eastern conquest: Persians, Turks and so · 471 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
What faintness should dismay our courages, When we are thus defenced against our Foe, And have no terror but his threatening looks? My Lord, if ever you did deed of tuth, And now will work a refuge to our lives, Offer submission, hang up flags of truce, That Tamburlaine may pity our distress, And use us like a loving Conqueror, Though this be held his last days dreadful siege, Wherein he spareth neither man nor child, Yet are there Christians of Georgia here, Whose state he ever pitied and relieved: Will get his pardon if your grace would send. How is my soul environed, And this eternized city Babylon, Filled with a pack of faintheart Fugitives, That thus entreat their shame and servitude? My Lord, if ever you will win our hearts, Yield up the town, save our wives and children: For I will cast myself from off these walls, Or die some death of quickest violence, Before I bide the wrath of Tamburlaine. villains, cowards, Traitors to our state, Fall to the earth, and pierce the pit of Hell, That legions of tormenting spirits may ver Your slauish bosomes with continuall pames, I care not, nor the town will never yield As long as any life is in my breast. Thou desperate Governor of Babylon, To save thy life, and us a little labour, Yield speedily the city to our hands, Or else be sure thou shalt be forced with pains, More exquisite than ever Traitor felt. Tyrant, I turn the traitor in thy throat, And will defend it in despite of thee. Call up the soldiers to defend these walls. Yield foolish Governor, we offer more Than ever yet we did to such proud slaves, As durst resist us till our third days siege: Thou seest us priest to give the last assault, And that shall bide no more regard of parley. Assault and spare not, we will never yield. The stately buildings of fair Babylon, Whose lofty Pillars, higher than the clouds, Were wont to guide the seaman in the deep. Being carried thither by the cannon's force, Now fill the mouth of Limnasphaltis' lake, And make a bridge unto the battered walls, Where Belus, Ninus and great Alexander Have rode in triumph, triumphs Tamburlaine, Whose chariot wheels have burst th' Assyrians bones, Drawn with these kings on heaps of carcases, Now in the place where fair Semiramis, Courted by kings and peers of Asia, Hath trodden the measures, do my soldiers march, And in the streets, where brave Assyrian Dames Have rid in pomp like rich Saturnia, With furious words and frowning visages, My horsemen brandish their unruly blades. Who have ye there my Lords? The sturdy Governor of Babylon, That made us all the labour for the town, And used such slender reckoning of you 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)
What faintnesse should dismay our courages, When we are thus defenc'd against our Foe, And haue no terrour but his threatning lookes? My Lord, if euer you did deed of tuth, And now will work a refuge to our liues, Offer submission, hang vp flags of truce, That Tambur laine may pitie our distresse, And vse vs like a louing Conquerour, Though this be held his last daies dreadfull siege, Wherein he spareth neither man nor child, Yet are there Christians of Georgia here, Whose state he euer pitied and relieu'd: Wil get his pardon if your grace would send. How is my soule enuironed, And this eternisde citie Babylon, Fill'd with a packe of faintheart Fugitiues, That thus intreat their shame and seruitude? My Lord, if euer you wil win our hearts, Yeeld vp the towne, saue our wiues and children: For I wil cast my selfe from off these walles, Or die some death of quickest violence, Before I bide the wrath of Tamburlaine. Villaines, cowards, Traitors to our state, Fall to the earth, and pierce the pit of Hel, That legions of tormenting spirits may ver Your slauish bosomes with continuall pames, I cate not, nor the towne will neuer yeeld As long as any life is in my breast. Thou desperate Gouernour of Babylon, To saue thy life, and vs a litle labour, Yeeld speedily the citie to our hands, Or els be sure thou shalt be forc'd with paines, More exquisite than euer Traitor felt. Tyrant, I turne the traitor in thy throat, And wil defend it in despight of thee. Call vp the souldiers to defend these wals. Yeeld foolish Gouernour, we offer more Than euer yet we did to such proud slaues, As durst resist vs till our third daies siege: Thou seest vs prest to giue the last assault, And that shal bide no more regard of parlie. Assault and spare not, we wil neuer yeeld. The stately buildings of faire Babylon, Whose lofty Pillers, higher than the cloudes, Were woont to guide the seaman in the deepe. Being caried thither by the cannons force, Now fil the mouth of Limnasphaltes lake, And make a bridge vnto the battered walles, Where Belus, Ninus and great Alexander Haue rode in triumph, triumphs Tamburlaine, Whose chariot wheeles haue burst th' Assirians bones, Drawen with these kings on heaps of carkasses, Now in the place where faire Semiramis, Courted by kings and peeres of Asia, Hath trode the Meisures, do my souldiers martch, And in the streets, where braue Assirian Dames Haue rid in pompe like rich Saturnia, With furious words and frowning visages, My horsmen brandish their vnruly blades. Who haue ye there my Lordes? The sturdy Gouernour of Babylon, That made vs all the labour for the towne, And vsde such slender reckning of you maiesty.