Heywood, Thomas · published 1615 · first performed or written 1594 (Annals) romance · Worcester's Men · Red Bull unassigned nearest T17 Eastern conquest: Persians, Turks and so · 483 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
Fire, rage, and fury, all my veins do swell. Be mute my tongue, bright sword my fury tell. Fire mount 'gainst his mad fury, check his rage. Burn out then flame, his blood thy heat shall suage. What have ye done? injustice stains our crests If for this act ye have not lost their lives. I will not bear the badge of Christendom In such a Bedlam mad society. Cease to determine of their harebrain rage, Till ye have sent the Pagans from our Tents. 'Tis well advised. soldiers take charge of thee Till we determine of our Embassy. I fear me Turnus, had you known before The spirits of these haughty Christians, T'have been so full of envious chivalry, You would have tempered some part of your rage. You see they strive, and fight amongst themselves, To practise hate against they meet with us. Morates, no, we scorn all abject fears, And they shall know our hearts as great as theirs. It shall be so. Attend me, Pagan Lords; We come not with grey gowns, and pilgrims staves, Beads at our sides, and sandals on our feet, Fear in our hearts, entreaty in our tongues, To beg a passage to our prophet's grave. But our soft Beaver Felts, we have turned to iron, Our gowns to armour, and our shells to plumes, Our walking staves we have changed to Scimitars, And so with pilgrims hearts, not pilgrim's habits, We come to hew way through your main Armies, And offer at the Tomb our contrite hearts Made purple with as many pagans' bloods, As we have in our breasts religious thoughts. And so be gone, no words in trifling waste, Death follows after you with wings of haste. That Prince speaks Music, which doth cheer my heart. Princes adieu, with terror I depart. Now to these other Captain-mutineers. What shall be done with them? even what you please. We have lived with pain, and we can die with ease: What God hath made, a God's name do you mar, Death is the least I fear, now to the bar. Lords give me leave to temper our decree, The Law is death, but such is our regard Of Christian blood, we moderate it thus. Because we know your worths, your lives are saved: Yet that the world shall see we prize our Laws, And are not partial should we sit on Kings; we doom you everlasting banishment From out the Christian Army. Banishment? This was your doing; well, I'll be revenged: By all the hopes that I have lost, I will. Princes, your dooms are upright, I obey them, And voluntarily exile myself. (Against my furious spirit) I could weep To leave this royal Army, and to lose The honour promised in the pagans' deaths. Farewell to all, with tears of grief I go. Ye are all my friends, thou only art my foe.
seed 43: T18 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Fire, rage, and fury, all my veines do swell. Be mute my tongue, bright sword my fury tell. Fire mount' gainst his mad fury, check his rage. Burne out then flame, his bloud thy heate shall swage. What haue ye done? iniustice staines our crests If for this act yee haue not loft their liues. I will not beare the badge of Christendome In such a Bedlam mad society. Cease to determine of their haire-braine rage, Till yee haue sent the Pagans from our Tents. 'Tis well adui'd. Souldiers take charge of the Till we determine of our Embassie. I feare me Turnus, had you known before The spirits of these haughty Christians, T'haue bene so full of enuious cheualry, You would haue temper'd some part of your rage. You see they striue, and fight amongst themselues, To practise hate against they meete with vs. Morates, no, we scorne all abiect feares, And they shall know our hearts as great as theirs. It shall be so. Attend me, Pagan Lords; We come not with grey gownes, and Pilgrimes staues, Beads at our sides, and sandals on our feete, Feare in our hearts, entreaty in our tongues, To begge a passage to our Prophets graue. But our soft Beauer Fel ▪ we haue turn'd to iron, Our gownes to armour, and our shels to plumes, Our walking staues we haue chang'd to Cemytars, And so with pilgrimes hearts, not pilgrims habits, We come to hew way through your maine Armies, And offer at the Tombe our contrite hearts Made purple with as many Pagans blouds, As wee haue in our breasts religious thoughts. And so be gone, no words in trifling wast, Death followes after you with wings of hast. That Prince speaks Musick, which doth cheere my heart. Princes adew, with terrour I depart. Now to these other Captaine-mutiners. What shall be done with them? Euen what you please. We haue liu'd with paine, and we can die with ease: What God hath made, a Gods name do you marre, Death is the least I feare, now to the barre. Lords giue me leaue to temper our decree, The Law is death, but such is our regard Of Christian bloud, we moderate it thus. Because we know your worths, your liues are sau'd: Yet that the world shall see we prise our Lawes, And are not partiall should we sit on Kings; Wee doome you euerlasting banishment From out the Christian Army. Banishment? Tis was your doing; well, I'le be reueng'd: By all the hopes that I haue lost, I will. Princes, your doomes are vpright, I obey them, And voluntarily exile my selfe. (Against my furious spirit) I could weepe To leae this royall Army, and to loose The honour promist in the Pagans deaths. Farewell to all, with teares of grfe I go. Yee are all my friends, thou onely art my foe.