Peele, George · published 1594 · first performed or written 1589 [1588-1589] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T17 Eastern conquest: Persians, Turks and so · 461 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
Therefore I crave to reobtain my right That Muly Mahamet the traitor holds, Traitor and bloody tyrant both at once, That murdered his younger brethren both, But on this damned wretch, this traitor king, The Gods shall pour down showers of sharp revenge. And thus a matter not to you unknown I have delivered. Yet for no distrust Of loyalty my well-beloved friend, But that the occasions fresh in memory Of these encounters, so may move your minds, As for the lawful true succeeding prince, Ye neither think your lives nor honours dear Spent in a quarrel just and honourable. Such and no other we repute the cause, That forwardly for thee we undertake, Thrice puissant and renowned Abdelmelec, And for thine honour, safety and crown, Our lives and honours frankly to expose, To all the dangers that our war attends, As freely and as resolutely all, As any Moore whom thou commandest most. And why is Abdelmelec then so slow To chastise him with fury of the sword, Whose pride doth swell to sway beyond his reach, Follow this pride then with fury of revenge. Of death, of blood, of wreak, and deep revenge. Shall Rubin Archis frame her tragic songs, In blood, in death, in murder and misdeed, This heavens malice did begin and end. Rubin these rights to Abdelmunen's ghost, Have pierced by this to Pluto's grave below, The bells of Pluto ring revenge amain. The furies and the fiends conspire with thee, War bids me draw my weapons for revenge Of my deep wrongs, and my dear brother's death. Sheath not your swords you soldiers of Amurath, Sheath not your swords you moor of Barbary That fight in right of your anointed king, But follow to the gates of death and hell, Pale death and hell to entertain his soul. Follow I say to burning Phlegethon, This traitor tyrant and his companies. Heave up your swords against these stony holds, Wherein these barbarous rebels are enclosed, Called for is Abdelmelec by the Gods, To sit upon the throne of Barbarie. Bassa great thanks the honour of the Turks. Forward brave Lords unto this rightful war, How can this battle but successful be, Where courage meeteth with a rightful cause? Go in good time my best beloved Lord, Successful in thy work thou undertakes. Pisano, take a cornet of our horse, As many argolets and armed pikes, And with our carriage march away before By Scyras, and those plots of ground That to Moroccus leads the lower way. Our enemies keep upon the mountain tops, And have encamped themselves not far from Fez, madam, gold is the glue, sinews, and strength of war, And we must see our treasure may go safe, Away. Now boy what's the news?
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)
Therefore I craue to reobtaine my right That Muly Mahamet the traitor holdes, Traitor and bloudie tyrant both at once, That murthered his yonger brethren both, But on this damned wretch, this traitor king, The Gods shal poure down showers of sharp reuenge. And thus a matter not to you vnknowen I haue deliuered. Yet for no distrust Of loyaltie my welbeloued friend, But that the occasions fresh in memorie Of these incumbers, so may moue your mindes, As for the lawfull true succeeding prince, Ye neither thinke your liues nor honors deare Spent in a quarrell iust and honorable. Such and no other we repute the cause, That forwardly for thee we vndertake, Thrice puisant and renowmed Abdilmelec, And for thine honor, safetie and crowne, Our liues and honours frankly to expose, To all the dangers that our warre attends, As freely and as resolutely all, As anie Moore whom thou commandest most. And why is Abdilmelec then so slow To chastise him with furie of the sword, Whose pride doth swell to sway beyond his reach, Follow this pride then with furie of reuenge. Of death, of bloud, of wreake, and deepe reuenge. Shall Rubin Archis frame her tragicke songs, In bloud, in death, in murther and misdeede, This heauens mallice did begin and end. Rubin these rights to Abdelmunens ghost, Haue pearst by this to Plutos graue below, The bels of Pluto ring reuenge amaine. The furies and the fiends conspire with thee, Warre bids me drawe my weapons for reuenge Of my deepe wrongs, and my deare brothers death. Sheath not your swords you soulders of Amurath, Sheath not your swords you Mores of Barbary That fight in right of your annointed king, But follow to the gates of death and hell, Pale death and hell to entertaine his soule. Follow I saie to burning Phlegiton, This traitor tyrant and his companies. Heaue vp your swords against these stony holds, Wherein these barbarous rebels are inclosde, Called for is Abdilmelec by the Gods, To sit vpon the throne of Barbarie. Bassa great thankes the honor of the Turks. Forward braue Lords vnto this rightfull warre, How can this battell but succesfull be, Where courage meeteth with a rightfull cause? Go in good time my best beloued Lord, Succesfull in thy worke thou vndertakes. Pisano, take a cornet of our horse, As many argolets and armed pikes, And with our carriage march awaie before By Scyras, and those plots of ground That to Moroccus leads the lower waie. Our enemies keepe vpon the mountaine tops, And haue incampt themselues not farre from Fesse, Madame, gold is the glue, sinewes, and strength of war, And we must see our treasure may go safe, Away. Now boy whats the newes?