Greene, Robert · published 1599 · first performed or written 1587 [1587-1588] (Annals) romance · Queen Elizabeth's Men (?) T17 Eastern conquest: Persians, Turks and so typicality 0.78 · 502 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
Why what art thou, That darest once presume, For to gainsay that Amurack did bid? I am my Lord, The wretcheds man alive: Borne underneath the Planet of mishap: Erewhile, a soldier of Belinus band But now. What now? The mirror of mishap: Whose Captain is slain, and all his army dead: Only excepted me unhappy wretch. What news is this, and is Belinus Slain? Is this the Crown which Mahomet did say, He should with triumph wear upon his head? Is this the honour which that cursed god Did prophesy, should happen to them all? Oh Daedalus, and wert thou now alive, To fasten wings upon high Amurack, Mahound should know, and that for certainty, That turkish Kings can brook no injury. Tush tush my Lord, I wonder what you mean, Thus to exclaim against high Mahomet: I'll lay my life, that ere this day be passed, You shall perceive, his tidings all be waste. We shall perceive, accursed Fabius, Suffice it not that thou hast been the man, That first didst beat those babbles in my brain, But that to help me forward in my grief, Thou seekest to confirm so foul a lie. Go get thee hence, and tell thy traitorous King What gift you had, which did such tidings bring. And now my Lords, since nothing else will serve, Buckle your helms, clap on your steeled coats, Mount on your steeds, take Lances in your hands, For Amurack doth mean this very day, Proud Mahomet with weapons to assay. Mercy high Monarch, 'tis no time now To spend the day in such vain threatenings, Against our god, the mighty Mahomet: More fitteth thee to place thy men at arms In battle ray, for to withstand your foes, Which now are drawing towards you with speed. Hark how their drums with dub-a-dub do come, To arms high Lord, and set these trifles by: That you may set upon them valiantly. And do they come you kings of Turkey? Now is the time, in which your warlike arms Must raise your names above the starry skies: Call to your mind your predecessors acts, Whose martial might, this many a hundred year, Did keep those fearful dogs in dread and awe, And let your weapons show Alphonsus plain, That though that they be clapped up in clay, Yet there be branches sprung up from those trees, In Turkish land, which brook no injuries. Besides the same, remember with yourselves, What foes we have, not mighty Tamburlaine, Nor soldiers trained up amongst the wars, But fearful bodies, picked from their rural flock, Which till this time were wholly ignorant What weapons meant, or bloody Mars doth crave. More would I say, but horses that be free, Do need no spurs and soldiers which themselves Long and desire to buckle with the foe, Do need no words to egg them to the same. Besides the same, behold whereas our foes Are marching towards us most speedily. Courage my Lords, ours is the victory.
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)
Why what art thou, That darest once presume, For to gainsay that Amuracke did bid? I am my Lord, The wretcheds man aliue: Borne vnderneath the Planet of mishap: Erewhile, a souldier of Belinus band But now. What now? The mirror of mishap: Whose Captaine is slaine, and all his armie dead: Onely excepted me vnhappie wretch. What newes is this, and is Belinus Slaine? Is this the Crowne which Mahomet did say, He should with triumph weare vpon his head? Is this the honour which that cursed god Did prophesie, should hapen to them all? Oh Dadalus, and wert thou now aliue, To fasten wings vpon high Amuracke, Mahound should know, and that for certaintie, That turkish Kings can brooke no iniurie. Tush tush my Lord, I wonder what you meane, Thus to exclaime against high Mahomet: Ile lay my life, that ere this day be past, You shall perceiue, his tidings all be waste. We shall perceiue, accursed Fabius, Suffice it not that thou hast bene the man, That first didst beate those bables in my braine, But that to helpe me forward in my greefe, Thou seekest to confirme so fowle a lie. Go get thee hence, and tell thy trayterous King What gift you had, which did such tidings bring. And now my Lords, since nothing else will serue, Buckle your helmes, clap on your steeled coates, Mount on your steeds, take Launces in your hands, For Amuracke doth meane this very day, Proude Mahomet with weapons to assay. Mercie high Monarch, tis no time now To spend the day in such vaine threatnings, Against our god, the mightie Mahomet: More fitteth thee to place thy men at armes In battle ray, for to withstand your foes, Which now are drawing towards you with speed. Hark how their drummes with dub a dub do come, To armes high Lord, and set these trifles by: That you may set vpon them valiantly. And do they come you kings of Turkie? Now is the time, in which your warlike armes Must raise your names aboue the starrie skies: Call to your minde your predecessors acts, Whose martiall might, this many a hundred yeare, Did keepe those fearefull dogs in dread and awe, And let your weapons shew Alphonsus plaine, That though that they be clapped vp in clay, Yet there be branches sprung vp from those trees, In Turkish land, which brooke no iniuries. Besides the same, remember with your selues, What foes we haue, not mightie Tamberlaine, Nor souldiers trained vp amongst the warres, But fearefull bodies, pickt from their rurall flocke, Which till this time were wholy ignorant What weapons ment, or bloudie Mars doth craue. More would I say, but horses that be free, Do need no spur and souldiers which themselues Long and desire to buckle with the foe, Do need no words to egge them to the same. Besides the same, behold whereas our foes Are marching towards vs most speedilie. Courage my Lords, ours is the victorie.