A Christian Turned Turk (The Two Famous Pirates) · chunk 38 of 38
Daborne, Robert · published 1612 · first performed or written 1610 [1609-1612] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 496 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
This is true music, could I enjoy these tunes myself would be thy jailor. Why then thy wound is not dangerous? A mere scratch, know that I am revenged Of my Fidelios death, and as thy tortures Each hour increase, so shall my harmony Till vengeance period give unto thy destiny. I will discover thy hypocrisy. You are prevented, help, I sound, I fall. As low as hell there keep thy festival. Hold murderous villain, all tortures man ere knew, Shall be inflicted on thee. inhuman dog. Ha, ha, ha, I laugh at you. Here's a preservative, against all your poisons True Balsamum for villainy, who will soar high First lesson that he learns, must be to die. Here's precedent for him, you're slaves of Mahomet Ungrateful curs, that have repaid me thus For all the service that I have done for you, He that hath brought more treasure to your shore Then all Arabia yields, he that hath shown you The way to conquer Europe, did first impart, What your forefathers knew not, the seaman's art; Which had they attained, this universe had been One Monarchy: may all your seed be damned The name of ottoman be the only scorn And byword to all Nations; may his own slaves Tear out the bowels of the last remains Unto his blood-propped throne, may ye cut each other's throat: Or may, oh may the force of Christendom Be reunited, and all at once require The lives of all that you have murdered, Beating a path out to Ierusalem, Over the bleeding breasts of you and yours. Unheard of monster. Lastly, oh may I be the last of all my country That trust unto your treacheries, seducing treacheries, All you that live by theft and Piracies, That sell your lives and souls to purchase graves, That die to hell, and live far worse than slaves, Let dying Ward tell you that heaven is just, And that despair attends on blood and lust: Down with the villain. Tear the wretch piece-meal, throw his accursed limbs Into the raging bowels of the sea. His monument in brass we'll thus engrave, Ward sold his country, turned Turk, and died a slave. WHo writes and thinks to please the general taste, Where eyes and ears are fed, shall find he hath placed His work with the fond Painter, who did mend So long, that striving to please others, gave no end To his own labours; for us, and if not all We know we have pleased some, whose judgements fall Beyond the common rank, to whom we humbly yield ourselves and labours, they best deserve to shield The worthy works of Time, and with their view To grace choice Pens, and such we hope are you, To whom we owe our toil, and willing give All right in this, your favour makes it live. Stand fair unto our ends then still, and crown With gentle hand this work which now's your own.
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)
This is true musicke, could I inioy these tunes My selfe would be thy Iaylor. Why then thy wound is not dangerous? A meere scratch, know that I am reueng'd Of my Fidelios death, and as thy tortures Each houre increase, so shall my harmony Till vengeance period giue vnto thy destiny. I will discouer thy hypocrisy. You are preuented, help, I sound, I fall. As low as hell there keepe thy festiuall. Hold murderous villaine, all tortures man ere knew, Shall be inflicted on thee. Inhumane dog. Ha, ha, ha, I laugh at you. Here's a preseruatiue, against all your poysons True Balsamum for villany,, who will soare high First lesson that he learn's, must be to dye. Heres precedent for him, you're slaus of Mahomet Vngratefull curs, that haue repaid me thus For all the seruice that I haue done for you, He that hath brought more treasure to yuor shore Then all Arabia yeelds, he that hath showne you The way to conquer Europe, did first impart, What your forefathers knew not, the seamans art; Which had they attein'd, this vuiuerse had bene One Monarchy: may all your seed be damn'd The name of Ottaman be the onely scorne And by-word to all Nations; may his owne slaues Teare out the bowels of the last remaines Vnto his bloud-propt throne, may ye cut each others throat ▪ Or may, oh may the force of Christendome Be reunited, and all at once require The liues of all that you haue murdered, Beating a path out to Ierusalem, Ouer the bleeding breasts of you and yours. Vnheard of monster. Lastly, oh may I be the last of all my country That trust vnto your tret cheries, seducing tretchries▪ All you that liue by theft and Piracies, That sell your liues and oules to purchase graues, That dye to hell, and liue farre worse then slaues, Let dying Ward tell you that heauen is iust, And that dispaire attends on bloud and lust: Downe with the villaine. Teare the wretch peece-meale, throw his accursed limb Into the raging bowels of the sea. His monument in brasse wee'le thus ingraue, VVard sold his country, turn'd Turke, and died a slaue. VVHo writes and thinkes to please the generall tast▪ Where eyes and eares are fed, shal find he hath pla His worke with the fond Painter, who did mend So long, that striuing to please others, gaue no end To his owne labours; for vs, and if not all We know we haue pleased some, whose iudgements fall Beyond the common ranke, to whom we humbly yeeld Our selues and labours, they best deserue to sheeld The worthy workes of Time, and with their view To grace choyce Pennes, and such we hope are you, To whom we owe our toyle, and willing giue All right in this, your fauour makes it liue. Stand faire vnto our ends then still, and crowne With gentle hand this worke which now's your owne.