The Wars of Cyrus, King of Persia · chunk 20 of 26
Anonymous · published 1594 · first performed or written 1588 [1587-1594] (Annals) tragedy · Children of the Chapel (first) (Oxford's Boys) T17 Eastern conquest: Persians, Turks and so typicality 0.78 · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
These squares of knighthood that present the pride, and honour due, to chivalry and arms, whose pricks should force the proud courageous steed with thundering race to break the rider's lance, Thus do we hew them from thy traitorous heels, Thou art no man of honour nor of arms, Thou hast no title of Gentility, Nor style of honour, left hereof to vaunt, But art become inferior of regard. Then is the basest bondman of Assyria, Or vilest slave that haunts the Lydian dames. Dishonoured traitor, now prepare thyself, To yield thy head unto the hangman's axe, Not fate but my demerits makes me die, O now I find Niltutum proditor. I fear the fury of the Persian prince, Histaspis, Cyrus' fury I do fear, And wrath of princes, what is it but death? Araspas on my honour make a proof, And never shun the presence of our Lord, A prince he is most mild and merciful, Soon mollified with vows and penitence, And though with great impatience he endure, Your threatened violence to the Susan Queen, Yet your submission and desire of grace, Will pierce him with compassion of your suit, And purchase pardon at his royal hands. O spiteful beauty that bewitched my mind, And led my fancy to such foul extremes, I will assay the mercy of my Lord, And yield my life to hazard of his grace, And doubt not but of Cyrus you shall find, A pitiful and passing gracious prince. Histaspis and the rest, with draw yourselves, Only Araspas stay behind with me. My sovereign Lord in trembling fear I stay, And prostrate fall before your highness feet, The frail affects and errors of my youth, Enforced through follies of a wanton will, Hath cast my life in peril of your wrath, Blinded with charms of beauty I have fallen, And made my judgement subject to desire. And in pursuit of loves unbridled rage, I have transgressed the bounds of honours laws, O gracious Lord impute my error past, Unto the power of proud commanding love, That led my mind and thought so far astray, Forgive those frailties of my youth, O king, And take your servant once again to grace, with fear of your displeasure almost slain. Force to a Queen, and she a captive too, A Persian Lord so far misled with lust, Intend dishonour to a silly dame, Araspas they that would be conquerors, Should chiefly learn to conquer their desire, lest while they seek dominion over others, They prove but slaves and bondmen to themselves. Now where are those your big and brave disputes, Wherein you pleaded love was voluntary, And fancy left and entertained at will, When you embrace it in such raging heat, That where entreaties fail of your desires, You fall from vows to violence with the dame, Araspas for the excuse of this offence, You find no precedent in Cyrus' life
seed 43: T18 · seed 44: T18 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Theſe ſquares of knighthoode that preſent the pride, and honour due, to chiualrie and armes, whoſe prickes ſhould force the proud couragious ſteed with thundering race to breake the riders launce, Thus doe we hew them from thy traiterous heeles, Thou art no man of honour nor of armes, Thou haſt no title of Gentilitie, Nor ſtile of honour, left hereof to vaunt, But art become inferiour of regarde. Then is the baſeſt bondman of Aſſyria, Or vileſt ſlaue that hauntes the Lidian dames. Diſhonoured traitor, now prepare thy ſelfe, To yeeld thy head vnto the hangmans axe, Not fate but my demerits makes me die, O now I finde Niltutum proditor. I feare the furie of the Perſian prince▪ Hiſtaſpis, Cyrus furie I doe feare, And wrath of princes, what is it but death? Araſpas on my honour make a proofe, And neuer ſhunne the preſence of our Lord, A prince he is moſt milde and mercifull, Soone mollified with vowes and penitence, And though with great impacience he endure, Your threatned violence to the Suſan Queene, Yet your ſubmiſsion and deſire of grace, Will pearce him with compaſsion of your ſute, And purchaſe pardon at his royall handes. O ſpitefull beautie that bewitcht my minde, And led my fancie to ſuch foule extreames, I will aſſay the mercie of my Lorde, And yeeld my life to bazzard of his grace, And doubt not but of Cyrus you ſhall finde, A pitifull and paſsing gracious prince. Hiſtaſpis and the reſt, with draw your ſelues, Onely Araſpas ſtay behind with me. My ſouereigne Lord in trembling feare I ſtay, And proſtrate fall before your highneſſe feete, The fraile affects and errours of my youth, Enforſed through follies of a wanton will, Hath caſt my life in perill of your wrath, Blinded with charmes of beautie I haue falne, And made my iudgement ſubiect to deſire. And in purſute of loues vnbrideled rage, I haue tranſgreſt the bounds of honours lawes, O gracious Lord impute my error paſt, Vnto the power of proud commanding loue, That led my minde and thought ſo farre aſtray, Forgiue thoſe frailties of my youth, O king, And take your ſeruant once againe to grace, with feare of your diſpleaſure almoſt ſlaine. Force to a Queene, and ſhe a captiue too, A Perſian Lord ſo farre miſled with luſt, Intend diſhonour to a ſillie dame, Araſpas they that would be conquerors, Should chiefly learne to conquer their deſire, Leaſt while they ſeeke dominion ouer others, They proue but ſlaues and bondmen to themſelues. Now where are thoſe your big and braue diſputes, Wherein you pleaded loue was voluntarie, And fancie left and intertaind at will, When you imbrace it in ſuch raging heate, That where intreaties faile of your deſires, You fall from vowes to violence with the dame, Araſpas for the excuſe of this offence, You find no preſident in Cyrus life