Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
WHat thundering power grown jealous of my state With such hostility my troops o'erthrows, And armed with lightning, breathing flames of hate, Big with disdain, high indignation shows Whilst soothed with self conceits ashamed to doubt, In greatness shadow I securely slept, Lo change-affecting Fortune wheels about, And ruins all that me from ruin kept. Thus I, whose only name amazed my foes, Whom th'earth adored, as Monarch, once over all, Am so degraded now, and sunk in woes, That who admired my might, admire my fall. Ah then indeed I fell, when gallants stood, And Phoenixlike renewed their life by death, Who having sealed their force and faith with blood, Would rather die, then draw a borrowed breath. Yet I, but then not I, viewed not avenged, Those monstrous mountains of my subjects slain, Although my conscience hath my courage clenged, And knows what valour was employed in vain. Through greatest dangers death I did pursue, Till heaps of slaughtered bodies barred my way, And changed my Chariot to a scarlet hue, Ere wounded honour could be drawn away. O how I envy yet their happy Ghosts, Who died whilst hope of victory remained, And in the presence of two famous hosts Left bloody records that they died unstained? Shall I survive that soul-overwhelming shame, To be th'eternal stain of Persians' praise? No rather let me die, and let my name, Be quite extinguished with my hateful days. Star-boasting Babylon blush to behold One called thy King surmounted and abated: How may thy Towers but tremble, when it's told, Thy Prince entreats, whom Princes erst entreated? Not vassal-like; I will not yield to this: Were all my Empire to a period come, Yet none shall vaunt that ever I was his: Hearts holding courage are not all o'ercome. This tongue enured still to command doth scorn To breathe base words, to scape a minute's pains. Let them obey, who to obey were borne: For Darius this indignity disdains. Since I was once judged worthy to command, Shall I return to be a base entreater? No, whilst a sword yields homage to this hand, I'll not acknowledge in the world a greater. Brave spirits, who now possess the pleasant bowers, And glorious gardens of th'elysian plain, (For if deserts may move th'infernal powers, That happy shade your shadows must contain) Those fields whereas your praises are set forth Do bury but your bodies, not your fame: Men shall adore the relics of your worth, And rear immortal Trophies to your name. I'll sacrifice as incense to your souls, His dying sighs, and sorrowing parents tears, Who now, while none his insolence controls, Our conquered ensigns in his triumph bears. For it may ease your Ghosts to hear his groans, Whilst th'earth overburdened sends rebounding back A plaintiff Echo from the woods and stones, To sound through all the air his Army's wrack. Why spend I speeches to disturb your rest? What idle disputations do I hold? A mighty furor hath inflamed my breast, And burns me, till I be avenged sevenfold.
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)
WHat thundering power grow'n jealous of my ſtate With ſuch hoſtilitie my troupes o're-throwes, And arm'd with lightning, breathing flames of hate, Big with diſdaine, high indignation ſhowes Whil'ſt ſooth'd with ſelfe conceits aſham'd to doubt, In greatneſſe ſhadowe I ſecurelie ſlept, Lo change-affecting Fortune wheeles about, And ruines all that me from ruine kept. Thus I, whoſe onlie name amaz'd my foes, Whom th'earth ador'd, as Monarche, once ouer all, Am ſo degraded now, and ſunke in woes, That who admir'd my might, admire my fall. Ah then indeed I fell, when gallants ſtood, And Phoenix-like renew'd their life by death, Who hauing ſeald their force and faith with blood, Would rather die, then draw a borrowed breath. Yet I, but then not I, view'd not aveng'd, Thoſe monſtrous mountaines of my ſubjects ſlaine, Although my conſcience hath my courage cleng'd, And knowes what valour was employ'd in vaine. Through greateſt dangers death I did purſue, Till heapes of ſlaughtred bodies bar'd my way, And chang'd my Chariot to a ſcarlet hue, Ere wounded honour could be drawne away. O how I enuy yet their happie Ghoſtes, Who died whil'ſt hope of victorie remain'd, And in the preſence of two famous hoſtes Left bloodie recordes that they died vnſtain'd? Shall I ſuruiue that ſoule-ouerwhelming ſhame, To be th'eternall ſtaine of Perſians praiſe? No rather let me die, and let my name, Be quite exſtinguiſh'd with my hatefull dayes. Starre-boſting Babilon bluſh to behold One cald thy King ſurmounted and abated: How may thy Towrs but tremble, when it's told, Thy Prince entreats, whome Princes earſt entreated? Not vaſſal-like; I will not yeeld to this: Were all my Empire to a period come, Yet none ſhall vaunt that euer I was his: Hartes holding courage are not all o're-come. This tongue inur'd ſtill to command doth ſcorne To breath baſe words, to ſcape a minutes paines. Let them obey, who to obey were borne: For Darius this indignitie diſdaines. Since I was once iudg'd worthie to command, Shall I returne to be a baſe entreater? No, whil'ſt a ſword yeelds homage to this hand, Ile not acknowledge in the world a greater. Braue ſpirites, who now poſſeſſe the pleaſant bowers, And glorious gardens of th'Eliſian plaine, (For if deſerts may moue th'infernall powers, That happie ſhade your ſhadowes muſt containe) Thoſe fields where-as your praiſes are ſet forth Do burie but your bodies, not your fame: Men ſhall adore the relickes of your worth, And reare immortall Trophees to your name. Ile ſacrifize as incenſe to your ſoules, His dying ſighes, and ſorrowing parents teares, Who now, while none his inſolence controules, Our conquer'd enſignes in his triumphe beares. For it may eaſe your Ghoſtes to heare his grones, Whil'ſt th'earth ouer-burdend ſends rebounding back A plaintife Echo from the woods and ſtones, To ſound through all the aire his armies wrack. Why ſpend I ſpeaches to diſturbe your reſt? What idle diſputations do I hold? A mightie furour hath enflam'd my breſt, And burnes me, till I be aueng'd ſeuen-fold.