The Wars of Cyrus, King of Persia · chunk 10 of 26
Anonymous · published 1594 · first performed or written 1588 [1587-1594] (Annals) tragedy · Children of the Chapel (first) (Oxford's Boys) T1 Death, grief and revenge typicality 0.72 · 511 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Be valiant Ctesiphon and follow me, Follow the fortune of a happy camp, Not doubt thou, but thou shalt see the end, Shall rue the injuries of his barbarous life, Among the damned souls in darkest hell. Then should my ghost with ceaseless words oppressed. Pass and descend into the grave in rest. We gentle gentlemen devise of late, To shun the vulgar and the virtuous, Present to you worthy to judge of us, Our works of worth and valiantness at once. What wants in us imagine in the works, What in the works condemn the writer of, But if the work and writing please you both, That Zenophon from whence we borrow write, Being both a soldier and philosopher, Warrants what we record of Panthea, It is writ in sad and tragic terms, May move you tears than you content, our muse That seems to trouble you again with toys Or needless antics imitations, Or shows, or new devices sprung a late, we have exiled them from our Tragic stage, As trash of their tradition, that can bring nor instance, nor excuse. For what they do In stead of mournful plaints our Chorus sings, Although it be against the up start guise, Yet warranted by grave antiquity, we will revive the which hath long been done. madam you see your page doth undertake, A costly piece of service for your sake, For well that service costly may be called, The end whereof of force must cost my life, For when th' Assyrian king shall understand My forged habit, and dissembling sex, And in these female weeds shall find Libanio, And Alexandra freely scaped his hands, What hope but certain death remains for me, And that with torments rare and exquisite. Yet madame for the reverence to my Lord, And duty that doth bind me to yourself, I will be Alexandra for this once, and die to save your honour and your life. O trusty servant, servant of surmounting faith, Worthy to attend the person of a god, Rather than daughter of poor Gobrias, This sacred service to a silly dame, Shall be engraven in tables of my heart, with letters and characters so performed, That when this body is bestowed in grave, No time nor yet corruption shall deface, The print thereof from Alexandra's breast. Thanks Lady, And for your further meed, Sufficeth me the honour of the deed. methinks I see the Assyrian stout at hand, Now madame carry a courageous heart, And trust your page for Alexandra's part. A Tragical part I fear Libanio. Bird of a traitor I presumed at last, Your lot would be to light into my hands, Although of cankered heart you would not yield, Until your castle shaked about your ears. O sovereign Lord stand gracious to this dame, That never trespassed in offence to you. Thy father's treason in revolting back, From due allegiance to th' Assyrian crown, I will revenge upon his daughter's life. What honour in a silly virgin's death? That near had power or will to harm your grace.
nodes 594–662 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 10 of 26 in this edition
Length
511 words · 648 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T1 — Death, grief and revengecross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.720 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T1 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Be valiant Cteſiphon and follow me, Follow the fortune of a haphie campe, Not doubt thou, but thou ſhalt ſee the ende, Shall rue the ininries of his barbarous life, Among the damned ſoules in darkeſt hell. Then ſhould my ghoſt with ſeaſeleſſe wordes oppreſt. Paſſe and diſcend into the graue in reſt. We gentle gentlemen deuiſe of late, To ſhunne the vulgar and the vertuous, Preſent to you worthie to iudge of vs, Our workes of woorth and valiantnes at once. What wants in vs imagin in the workes, What in the workes condemne the writer of, But if the worke and writing pleaſe you both, That Zenophon from whence we borrow write, Being both a ſouldier and philoſopher, Warrants what we record of Panthea, It is writ in ſad and tragicke tearmes, May moue you teares then you content, our muſe That ſeemes to trouble you againe with toies Or needleſſe antickes imitations, Or ſhewes, or new deuiſes ſprung a late, we haue exilde them from our I ragicke ſtage, As traſh of their tradition, that can bring nor inſtance, nor excuſe. For what they do In ſtead of mournefull plaints our Chorus ſings, Although it be againſt the vp ſtart guiſe, Yet warranted by graue antiquitie▪ we will reuiue the which hath long beene done. Madame you ſee your page doth vndertake, A coſtly peece of ſeruice for your ſake, For well that ſeruice coſtly may be called, The ende whereof of force muſt coſt my life, For when th' Aſſyrian king ſhall vnderſtand My forged habit, and diſſembling ſex, And in theſe female weedes ſhall find Libanio, And Alexandra freely ſcapt his handes, What hope but certaine death remaines for me, And that with torments rare and exquiſite. Yet madame for the reuerence to my Lord, And dutie that doth bind me to your ſelfe, I will be Alexandra for this once, and die to ſaue your honour and your life. O truſtie ſeruant, ſeruant of ſurmounting faith, Worthie to attend the perſon of a god, Rather then daughter of poore Gobrias, This ſacred ſeruice to a ſillle dame, Shall be ingrauen in tables of my heart, with letters and charecters ſo perfourmde▪ That when this bodie is beſtowde in graue, No time nor yet corruption ſhall deface, The print thereof from Alexandras breaſt. Thankes Ladie, And for your further meede, Sufficeth me the honour of the deede. Me thinkes I ſee the Aſſyrian ſtout at hand, Now madame carie a couragious heart, And truſt your page for Alexandras part. A Tragicall part I feare Libanio. Bird of a traitor I preſumde at laſt, Your lot would be to light into my handes, Although of cankred heart you would not yeeld, Vntill your caſtell ſhaked about your eares. O ſouereigne Lord ſtand gracious to this dame, That neuer treſpaſt in offence to you. Thy fathers treaſon in reuolting backe, From due alleageance to th Aſſyrian crowne, I will reuenge vpon his daughters life. What honour in a ſillie virgins death? That nere had power or will to harme your grace.