Heywood, Thomas · published 1615 · first performed or written 1594 (Annals) romance · Worcester's Men · Red Bull T17 Eastern conquest: Persians, Turks and so typicality 0.80 · 481 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
And now my foe-turned brother, end our hate, And praise that Power Divine who guides our state. Divide we hands and hearts: what hatred rests, power out in Thunder on the pagans' crests. Our joys are not at full, they shall not yet Know where my sister and their love remains, Until these wars have end. Oh had our God Not laid our fortunes open, but a brother been brought in triumph to a sister's bed, Clouds of despair had masked our Sun of joy. Yet will I keep her secret, and the rather, To crown our haps when we have freed our father. Christians once more defiance in my tongue, Sounds dismal terror in your fearful ears. The Princes whom I serve, grieve they have mured Such an huge Army in a wall of stone, And they are thus resolved; To leave all place of scorned advantages, And in a pitched field end this glorious war. Say, will ye meet them? Though he trust his strength, Yet will we meet his force's face to face, When the dry earth shall quaff your bloods apace. And tell the Soldan from a Christian Prince, That won from him these colours, and this Crown, In that pitched field my head this Crown shall bear, And scarf-like these athwart my breast I'll wear. This for the Persian's sake I'll wear in sight, And under his own ensign this day fight. Go tell the Soldan that he wears my Crown. Fortune hath given it me, it is mine own. If thou hast more to say concerning war, Omit thy braves and trifling circumstance: we'll meet you sooner than you can desire. Be gone, be gone, our hearts are all on fire. Brave Lords, our conquests will be honourable, Because we have to deal with honoured foes: Our pikes stand to receive you like a wood, we'll flake our white steeds in your Christian blood. Prepare to meet them, and appoint our powers, This day the City and themselves are ours. Thou under whom we fight, this day defend us, For unto thy protection we commend us. Great Monarchs, Kings, and Princes of the East, Ye come t'encounter with a valiant foe; Such as have swam huge Rivers, climbed the Alps; That can endure sharp hunger; such as shrink not To have their bloods sod with the dog days heat, Nor to be curdled with cold Saturn's rod. What honour were it for an Host of Giants, To combat with a pigmy Nation? No, Lords, the foe we must encounter with, Is full of spirit and majestic spleen, Strong, hardy, and their hearts invincible. Destroy these, and you win yourselves a name, And all the nations of the earth shall fear you. The more renowned the foe is, the more famous Shall be our conquest, the more great their fall. Come Lords, divide we our battalions.
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)
And now my foe-turn'd brother, end our hate, And praise that Power Diuine who guides our state. Diuide we hands and hearts: what hatred rests, Powre out in Thunder on the Pagans crests. Our ioyes are not at ull, they shall not yet Know where my sister and their loue remaines, Vntill these warros hau end. Oh had our God Not laid our fortunes open, but a brother Bene brought in triumph to a sisters bed, Cloudes of despaire had maskt our Sunne of ioy. Yet will I keepe her secret, and the rather, To crowne our haps when we haue freed our father. Christians once more defiance in my tongue, Sounds dismall terrour in your fearefull eares. The Princes whom I serue, grieue they haue mur'd Such an huge Army in a wall of stone, And they are thus resolu'd; To leaue all place of scorn'd aduantages, And in a pitcht field end this glorious warre. Say, will ye meete them? Though he trust his strength, Yet will we meete his forces face to face, When the dry earth shall quaffe your blouds apace. And tell the Soldn from a Christian Prince, That wonne from him these colours, and this Crowne, In that pitcht field my head this Crowne shall beare, And skare-like these athwart my breast I'le weare. This for the Persian's sake I'le weare in sight, And vnder his owne ensigne this day fight. Go tell the Soldan that he weares my Crowne. Fortune hath giuen it me, it is mine owne. If thou hast more to say concerning warre, Omit thy braues and trifling circumstance: Wee'le meete you sooner then you can desire. Be gone, be gone, our hearts are all on fire. Braue Lords, our conquests will be honourable, Because we haue to deale with honoured foes: Our pikes stand to receiue you like a wood, Wee'le flake our white steeds in your Christian bloud. Prepare to meete them, and appoint our powres, This day the Citty and themselues are ours. Thou vnder whom we fight, this day defend vs, For vnto thy protection we commend vs. Great Monarchs, Kings, and Princes of the East, Ye come t'encounter with a valiant foe; Such as haue swomme huge Riuers, climb'd the Alpes; That can endure sharpe hunger; such as shrinke not To haue their blouds sod with the dog daies heat, Nor to be crudled with cold Saturnes rod. What honour were it for an Hoast of Giants, To combat with a Pigmee Nation? No, Lords, the foe we must encounter with, Is full of spirit and maiesticke spleene, Strong, hardy, and their hearts inuincible. Destoy these, and you winne your selues a name, And all the nations of the earth shall feare you. The more renown'd the foe is, the more famous Shall be our conquest, the more great their fall. Come Lords, diuide we our battalions.