The Wars of Cyrus, King of Persia · chunk 16 of 26
Anonymous · published 1594 · first performed or written 1588 [1587-1594] (Annals) tragedy · Children of the Chapel (first) (Oxford's Boys) unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 466 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Dinon, thou art decided it is not he, It is my Lord I know him by his scars. These scars were given him in my father's days, And now he is dead, ere I could guerdon him. The greatest honour I can do thee now, Is to lament and kiss thy lifeless cheeks, And that will I perform for Dinon's sake, O that I could revive thee with this kiss, Doubtless Gobrias daughter murdered him, I saw them in the morning walk abroad, And since they ne'er returned into the camp, Then she hath done this execrable fact, And so is fled unto her traitorous sire, O that a silly Maid should slaughter him, Which not a world of Persians could subdue, Is there no end of my calamity? My father done to death by Cyrus' sword, Wicked Gobrias and his daughter fled, False Ctesiphon resolved to murder me, And now Dinon my chiefest captain slain, Why run we not upon these Persians, which are the authors of these miseries? Come soldiers take him up and march away, we'll empty Babylon to meet our foes, And be revenged unto the ninth degree, Both of Gobrias and his family. O Cyrus if the fortune of thy hand, Have turned my freedom to captivity, And of a Queen made me a captive dame, Yet think that virtue is not thrall to chance, Nor honour subject to unhappy time, But like a gallant consecrated ship, That in extremest wrath and storms of seas, Vaunts all her sails and fights the battle out. madam the reason of these vehement terms, Cyrus doth neither know, nor can conject, It since the time of your captivity, You have not been entreated as you ought, The gods can tell 'tis far against my thought. Then know my great Lord, the man that took the charge, To guard my honour, and my person free, Long since doted on my person so, That doting he hath sought my honours wreak, A tedious siege (God knows) I have endure, More hedious unto me then hasty arms, While wild Araspas with his lewd desires, Ceaseless solicited my unlawful bed, without repulses I have quailed his hope, which he renewed with charge of fresh assaults. But my denials made his purpose vain, In fine, when no entreaty could prevail, To frame my fancy to his wicked will, He falls to threatenings from persuasions terms, And vows to purchase his desires by force, And therefore Cyrus (as thou art a king) Protect a lady's honour from the spoil, And let thy bondmaid live and die unstained, And if there rest no other hope for me, But havoc wreck and ruin of my fame, O Cyrus on thy sword let Panthea die, And so prevent the danger of my shame,
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)
Dinon, thou art deceyde it is not he, It is my Lord I know him by his ſcarres. Theſe ſcarres were giuen him in my fathers dayes, And now he is dead, ere I could guerdon him▪ The greateſt honour I can doe thee nowe, Is to lament and kiſſe thy liueleſſe cheekes, And that will I performe for Dinons ſake, O that I could reuiue thee with this kiſſe, Doubtleſſe Gobrias daughter murdered him▪ I ſawe them in the morning walke abroad, And ſince they ne're returnde into the campe, Then ſhe hath done this execrable fact, And ſo is fled vnto her traiterous ſire, O that a ſillie Maide ſhould ſlaughter him, Which not a world of Perſians could ſubdue, Is there no ende of my calamitie? My father done to death by Cyrus ſword, Wicked Gobrias and his daughter fled, Falſe Cteſiphon reſolude to murther me, And now Dinon my chiefeſt captaine ſlaine, Why runne we not vpon theſe Perſians, which are the authours of theſe miſeries? Come ſouldiers take him vp and march away, Weele emptie Babylon to meete our foes, And be reuengde vnto the ninth degree, Both of Gobrias and his familie. O Cyrus if the fortune of thy hande, Haue turnde my freedome to captiuitie, And of a Queene made me a captiue dame, Yet thinke that vertue is not thrall to chaunce, Nor honour ſubiect to vnhappie time, But like a gallant conſecrated ſhip, That in extreameſt wrath and ſtormes of ſeas, Vaunts all her ſailes and fights the battaile out. Madame the reaſon of theſe vehement tearmes, Cyrus doth neither know, nor can coniect, It ſince the time of your captiuitie, You haue not beene intreated as you ought, The gods can tell t'is farre againſt my thought. Then know my great Lord, the man that tooke the charge▪ To gard my honor, and my perſon free, Long ſince doted on my perſon ſo, That doting he hath ſought my bonors wreake, A tedious ſiege (God knowes) I haue endurde, More hedious vnto me then haſtie armes, While vilde Araſpas with his lewde deſires, Ceaſeleſſe ſolicited my vnlawfull bed, without repulſes I haue quailed his hope, which he renued with charge of freſh aſſaults. But my denials made his purpoſe vaine, In fine, when no intreatie could preuaile, To frame my fancie to his wicked will, He falles to threatnings from perſuaſious termes, And vowes to purchaſe his deſires by force, And therefore Cyrus (as thou art a king) Protect a Ladies honour from the ſpoile, And let thy bondmaid liue and die vnſtaind, And if there reſt no other hope for me, But hauocke wrake and ruine of my fame, O Cyrus on thy ſworde let Panthea die, And ſo preuent the daunger of my ſhame,