Heywood, Thomas · published 1615 · first performed or written 1594 (Annals) romance · Worcester's Men · Red Bull T17 Eastern conquest: Persians, Turks and so typicality 0.76 · 476 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
To show my love, my sword shall sleep in rest. I'll keep mine sharp for the brave sultan's crest. Peace sword. The Norman Robert keeps his keen, T'abate the fury of the sultan's spleen. My sword cries truce. Blade when thou next art seen, Thou mak'st thy Lord a King, his Love a Queen. You have redeemed my beauty, your last jar Had made perfection with my face at war. Lady, the virtuous motions of your heart Add to the abundant graces of your fame, It was your beauty that did blind our souls, And in our close breasts placed oblivion. 'Tis true, we have ordained a strict decree, That whosoever in our Christian Host Strikes with a sword in hostile enmity, Forfeits his life, then break off this debate, And keep our own decrees inviolate. Health to the Christians from the mighty Soldan. Death and destruction from the Persian Sophy. That tongue brings peace, to thee will I attend. That tongue brings war, thy motions we commend. Speak peace, thy looks are smooth, we'll list to thee. Speak war, bring war, and we to war agree. The Babylonian Soldan, mighty Princes, Sends me to know the cause of this your March Into a land so far remote from ye. If ye intend to see your prophet's Tomb, As holy pilgrims, peace shall guard your way. Peace we defy: let's hear what thou canst say. Proceed, proceed. Do; and I'll sound my Drum To drown his voice, that doth for parlance come. Why, I am borne to nothing in this world But what my sword can conquer. Should we yield Our fortunes to base composition, I have no hopes mine honour to increase. Cursed be his base ear that attends to peace. Let me conclude my message. Pagan, no: wars friend speak thou, I am to Peace a foe. The Persian Sophy thus instructs my tongue That Prince amongst you whose heroic breast Dares show itself to his triumphant spear, (Excepting but the name of Christian) Like to the Persian Gods he honours him. But should he know a heart in these proud Troops, And know that heart to be addict to peace, he'd hate him like a man that should blaspheme. In Zion Towers hangs his victorious flag, Blowing defiance this way: and it shows Like a red meteor in the troubled air; Or like a blazing comet, that foretells The fall of Princes. Thine own PRINCE's fall. Then in one word, destruction to you all. I had not thought such spirits had remained Within the warlike breasts of Infidels. Dares the Majestic spirit of thy King Answer a challenge? dares he pawn his Crown Against the hazard of ten thousand lives? And who should fight against him? I. Thou! ay, 'gainst him, and thee, and all the world. That interdicts my honour. Me! Thee.
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)
To shew my loue, my sword shall sleepe in rest. I'le keepe mine sharpe for the braue Soldans crest. Peace sword. The Norman Robert keeps his keene, T'abate the fury of the Soldans spleene. My sword cries truce. Blade when thou next art seene▪ Thou mak'st thy Lord a King, his Loue a Queene. You haue redeem'd my beauty, your last iarre Had made perfection with my face at warre. Lady, the vertuous motions of your heart Adde to the aboundant graces of your fame, It was your beauty that did blinde our soules, And in our close brests plac'd obliuion. 'Tis true, we haue ordain'd a strict decree, That whosoeuer in our Christian Hoast Strikes with a sword in hostile enmity, Forfeits his life, then breake off this debate, And keepe our owne decrees iuiolate. Health to the Christians from the mighty Soldan. Death and detrustion from the Persian Sophy. That tongue brings peace, to thee will I attend. That tongue brings war, thy motions we commend. Speake peace, thy lookes are smoth, we'l list to thee. Speake warre, bring warre, and we to warre agree. The Babylonian Soldan, mighty Princes, Sends me to know the cause of this your March Into a land so farre remote from ye. If ye intend to see your Prophets Tombe, As holy Pilgrimes, peace shall guard your way. Peace we defie: let's heare what thou canst say. Proceed, proceed. Do; and I'le sound my Drumme To drowne his voyce, that doth for parleance come. Why, I am borne to nothing in this world But what my sword can conquer. Should we yeeld Our fortunes to base composition, I haue no hopes mine honour to encrease. Curst be his base eare that attends to peace. Let me conclude my message. Pagan, no: Warres friend speake thou, I am to Peace a foe. The Persian Sophy thus instructs my tongue That Prince amongst you whose heroicke brest Dares shew it selfe to his triumphant speare, (Excepting but the name of Christian) Like to the Persian Gods he honours him. But should he know a heart in these proud Troupes, And know that heart to be addict to peace, Hee'd hate him like a man that should blaspheme. In Sion Towres hangs his victorious flagge, Blowing defiance this way: and it showes Like a red meteor in the troubled aire; Or like a blazing comet, that fore-tels The fall of Princes. Thine owne Princes all. Then in one word, destruction to you all. I had not thought such spirits had remain'd Within the warlike breasts of Infidels. Dares the Maiesticke spirit of thy King Answere a challenge? dares he pawne his Crowne Against the hazard of ten thousand liues? And who should fight against him? I. Thou! I, 'gainst him, and thee, and all the world. That interdicts my honour. Me! Thee.