Anonymous · published 1592 · first performed or written 1592 [c.1589-1592] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T17 Eastern conquest: Persians, Turks and so · 498 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
I long till Brusor be returned from Rhodes, To know how he hath borne him 'gainst the Christians, That are assembled there to try their valour, But more to be well assured by him, How Rhodes is fenced, and how I best may lay, My never failing siege to win that plot, For by the holy Alcaron I swear, I'll call my Soldiers home from Persia, And let the Sophy breath, and from the Russian broils Call home my hardy, dauntless janissaries, And from the other skirts of Christendom, Call home my bassoes and my men of war, And so beleaguer Rhodes by sea and land. That Key will serve to open all the gates, Through which our passage cannot find a stop, Till it have pricked the heart of Christendom, Which now that paltry Island keeps from scathe. Say brother Amurath, and Haleb, say, What think you of our resolution? Great Soliman, heavens only substitute, And earth's commander under Mahomet: So counsel I, as thou thyself hast said. Pardon me dread Sovereign, I hold it not Good policy, to call your forces home From Persia and Polonia, bending them Upon a paltry isle of small defence. A common press of base superfluous Turks, May soon be levied for so slight a task. Ah Soliman, whose name hath shaked thy foes, As withered leaves with autumn thrown down, Fog not thy glory with so foul eclipse, Let not thy Soldiers sound a base retire, Till Persia stoop, and thou be conqueror. What scandal were it to thy mightiness, After so many valiant bassoes slain, Whose blood hath been manured to their earth, Whose bones hath made their deep ways passable. To sound a homeward, dull, and harsh retreat, Without a conquest, or a mean revenge, Strive not for Rhodes, by letting Persia slip, The one's a Lion almost brought to death, Whose skin will countervail the hunter's toil; The other is a Wasp with threatening sting. Whose Honey is not worth the taking up. Why Haleb didst thou not hear our brother swear Upon the Alcaron religiously: That: he would make an universal Camp Of all his scattered legions: and darest thou Infer a reason why it is not meet, After his Highness swears it shall be so, Were it not thou art my father's son, And striving kindness wrestled not with ire, I would not hence, till I had let thee know, What 'twere to thwart a monarch's holy oath. Why, his highness gave me leave to speak my will, And far from flattery I spoke my mind, And did discharge a faithful subjects love, Thou Aristippus-like didst flatter him, Not like my brother, or a man of worth, And for his highness vow I crossed it not, But gave my censure, as his highness bad, Now for thy chastisement, know Amurath, I scorn them as a reckless Lion scorns, The humming of a gnat in Summer's night, I take it Haleb thou art friend to Rhodes.
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)
I long till Brusor be returnd from Rhodes, To know how he hath borne him gainst the Christians, That are assembled there to trie their valour, But more to be well assured by him, How Rhodes is fenc'd, and how I best may lay, My neuer failing siege to win that plot, For by the holy Alcaron I sweare, Ile call my Souldiers home from Persia, And let the Sophie breath, and from the Russian broiles Call home my hardie, dauntlesse Ianisaries, And from the other skirts of Christendome, Call home my Bassowes and my men of war, And so beleager Rhodes by sea and land. That Key will serue to open all the gates, Through which our passage cannot finde a stop, Till it haue prickt the hart of Christendome, Which now that paltrie Iland keepes from scath. Say brother Amurath, and Haleb, say, What thinke you of our resolution? Great Soliman, heauens onely substitute, And earths commander vnder Mahomet: So counsell I, as thou thy selfe hast said. Pardon me dread Soueraigne, I hold it not Good pollicie, to call your forces home From Persea and Polonia, bending them Vpon a paltrie Ile of small defence. A common presse of base superfluous Turkes, May soone beleuied for so slight a taske. Ah Soliman, whose name hath shakt thy foes, As withered leaues with Autume throwen downe, Fog not thy glory with so fowle eclipse, Let not thy Souldiers sound a base retire, Till Persea stoope, and thou be conquerour. What scandall were it to thy mightinesse, After so many valiant Bassowes slaine, Whose bloud hath bin manured to their earth, Whose bones hath made their deepe waies passable. To sound a homeward, dull, and harsh retreate, Without a conquest, or a meane reuenge, Striue not for Rhodes, by letting Persea slip, The ones a Lyon almost brought to death, Whose skin will counteruaile the hunters toile; The other is a Waspe with threatning sting. Whose Hunny is not worth the taking vp. Why Haleb didst thou not heare our brother sweare Vpon the Alcaron religiously: That: he would make an vniuersall Campe Of all his scattered laegions: and darest thou Infer a reason why it is not meete, After his Highnes sweares it shall be so, VVere it not thou art my fathers sonne, And striuing kindnes wrestled not with ire, I would not hence, till I had let thee know, VVhat twere to thwart a Monarchs holy oath. Why, his highnes gaue me leaue to speake my wil, And far from flattery I spoke my minde, And did discharge a faithfull subiects loue, Thou Aristippus like didst flatter him, Not like my brother, or a man of worth, And for his highnesse vowe I crost it not, But gaue my censure, as his highnesse bad, Now for thy chastisment, know Amurath, I scorne them as a rechlesse Lion scornes, The humming of a gnat in Summers night, I take it Haleb thou art friend to Rhodes.