Marlowe, Christopher / Nashe, Thomas · published 1594 · first performed or written 1586 [c.1585-1586; possibly 1591] (Annals) tragedy · Children of the Chapel (first) (Oxford's Boys) T7 The Trojan war: conflict and its afterma typicality 0.86 · 530 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
Come servants, come bring forth the Sacrifice, That I may pacify that gloomy Ioue, Whose empty Altars have enlarged our ills. Eternal Ioue, great master of the Clouds, Father of gladness, and all frolic thoughts, That with thy gloomy hand corrects the heaven, When airy creatures war amongst themselves: Hear, hear, O hear Iarbas plaining prayers, Whose hideous echoes make the welkin howl, And all the woods Eliza to resound: The woman that thou wild us entertain, Where straying in our borders up and down, She craved a hide of ground to build a town, With whom we did divide both laws and land, And all the fruits that plenty else sends forth, Scorning our loves and royal marriage rites, Yields up her beauty to a stranger's bed, Who having wrought her shame, is straight way fled: Now if thou be'st a pitying God of power, On whom ruth and compassion ever waits, Redress these wrongs, and warn him to his ships, That now afflicts me with his flattering eyes. How now Iarbas, at your prayers so hard? I Anna, is there ought you would with me? Nay, no such weighty business of import, But may be slacked until another time: Yet if you would partake with me the cause Of this devotion that detaineth you, I would be thankful for such courtesy. Anna, against this Trojan do I pray, Who seeks to rob me of thy sister's love, And dive into her heart by coloured looks. Alas poor King that labours so in vain, For her that so delighteth in thy pain: Be tul'd by me, and seek some other love, Whose yielding heart may yield thee more relief. Mine eye is fixed where fancy cannot start, O leave me, leave me to my silent thoughts, That register the numbers of my ruth, And I will either move the thoughtless flint, Or drop out both mine eyes in drizzling tears, Before my sorrows tide have any stint. I will not leave Iarbas whom I love, In this delight of dying pensiveness: Away with Dido, Anna be thy song, Anna that doth admire thee more than heaven. I may nor will list to such loathsome change, That intercepts the course of my desire: Servants, come fetch these empty vessels here, For I will fly from these alluring eyes, That do pursue my peace where ere it goes. Iarbas stay, loving Iarbas stay, For I have honey to present thee with: Hard hearted, wilt not deign to hear me speak, I'll follow thee with outcries near the less, And strew thy walks with my disheveled hair. Carthage, my friendly host adieu, Since destiny doth call me from the shore: Hermes this night descending in a dream, Hath summoned me to fruitful Italy: Ioue wils it so, my mother wils it so: Let my Phoenissa grant, and then I go: Grant she or no, Aeneas must away, Whose golden fortunes clogged with courtly ease, Cannot ascend to Fame's immortal house, Or banquet in bright honours burnished hall, Till he hath furrowed Neptune's glassy fields, And cut a passage through his topless hills: Achates come forth, Sergestus, Illioneus, Cloanthus, haste away, Aeneas calls.
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)
Come seruants, come bring forth the Sacrifize, That I may pacifie that gloomie Ioue, Whose emptie Altars haue enlarg'd our illes. Eternall Ioue, great master of the Clowdes, Father of gladnesse, and all frollicke thoughts, That with thy gloomie hand corrects the heauen, When ayrie creatures warre amongst themselues: Heare, heare, O heare Iarbus plaining prayers, Whose hideous ecchoes make the welkin howle, And all the woods Eliza to resound: The woman that thou wild vs entertaine, Where straying in our borders vp and downe, She crau'd a hide of ground to build a towne, With whom we did deuide both lawes and land, And all the fruites that plentie els sends forth, Scorning our loues and royall marriage rites, Yeelds vp her beautie to a strangers bed, Who hauing wrought her shame, is straight way fled: Now if thou beest a pitying God of power, On whom ruth and compassion euer waites, Redresse these wrongs, and warne him to his ships, That now afflicts me with his flattering eyes. How now Iarbus, at your prayers so hard? I Anna, is there ought you would with me? Nay, no such waightie busines of import, But may be slackt vntill another time: Yet if you would partake with me the cause Of this deuotion that detaineth you, I would be thankfull for such curtesie. Anna, against this Troian doe I pray, Who seekes to rob me of thy Sisters loue, And diue into her heart by coloured lookes. Alas poore King that labours so in vaine, For her that so delighteth in thy paine: Be tul'd by me, and seeke some other loue, Whose yeelding heart may yeeld thee more reliefe. Mine eye is fixt where fancie cannot start, O leaue me, leaue me to my silent thoughts, That register the numbers of my ruth, And I will either moue the thoughtles flint, Or drop out both mine eyes in drisling teares, Before my sorrowes tide haue any stint. I will not leaue Iarbus whom I loue, In this delight of dying pensiuenes: Away with Dido, Anna be thy song, Anna that doth admire thee more then heauen. I may nor will list to such loathsome chaunge, That intercepts the course of my desire: Seruants, come fetch these emptie vessels here, For I will flye from these alluring eyes, That doe pursue my peace where ere it goes. Iarbus stay, louing Iarbus stay, For I haue honey to present thee with: Hard hearted, wilt not deigne to heare me speake, Ile follow thee with outcryes nere the lesse, And strewe thy walkes with my discheueld haire. Carthage, my friendly host adue, Since destinie doth call me from the shoare: Hermes this night descending in a dreame, Hath summond me to fruitfull Italy: Ioue wils it so, my mother wils it so: Let my Phenissa graunt, and then I goe: Graunt she or no, Aeneas must away, Whose golden fortunes clogd with courtly ease, Cannot ascend to Fames immortall house, Or banquet in bright honors burnisht hall, Till he hath furrowed Neptunes glassie fieldes, And cut a passage through his toples hilles: Achates come forth, Sergestus, Illioneus, Cloanthus, haste away, Aeneas calles.