The Raging Turk, or Bajazet the Second · chunk 2 of 51
Goffe, Thomas · published 1631 · first performed or written 1618 [c.1613-c.1618] (Annals) tragedy · at University unassigned nearest T7 The Trojan war: conflict and its afterma · 490 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T7: hector, troy, achilles, greeks, aeneas, priam, ulysses, troilus, trojan, trojans.
Dar'st thou oppose his greatnesse? is not Gr Already wracked enough? have thy proud Towers Reared up their lofty spires? which steeped in blood, Threw a reflex of red back to the clouds, And blushed at their own ruins, are thy crude wounds Already stopped, and is that day forgot, In which the Turkish Mavors Ottoman, Wielded a sword of death within thy Walls? Charon grew weary with hurrying souls to hell, When threescore thousand Greekes in one day fell. We know their force, and sad experience says, Move not again, Greece welters still in blood And every crackling thunder of the heavens Speaks the shrill echo of the Turkish drums, Then are we drawn by you, so let it be, About these great affairs as you decree. This phrase becomes the Greekes, submissive states Must bend, 〈◊〉 Conqueror must rule the fates. And such are you, our vanquished hearts must bend, But bad beginnings have a fatal end▪ Me thinks I see great Bajazet in arms▪ Spreading his fearful Ensigns in the air, Like some prodigious Comet, we may fear Speedy revenge vulesse some quick advice Work a prevention of his future hate, 'tis he must sway the Sceptre, or we shall hear A dreadful defiance rattled in our ear, he's strong in friends, and power, we must descend, To our just duty, or our latest end. Renowned Viceroy, thy persuading thoughts Have predeuined most truly these effects, And we applaud thy Counsel, let us three join our best strength, that these ensuing jars May be composed without the stroke of Wars: Coroute is wise, and mild, and being so, He hates the rumour of a public foe. Nobly resolved (Greece sings) if the event, Prove but so happy, as honest the intent. But stand aside, Bajazet is come. Am I not Emperor? he that breathes a no, Damns in that negative syllable his soul, Durst any god gainsay it, he should feel The strength of fiercest Giants in mine arms, Mine angers at the highest, and I could shake The firm foundation of the earthly Globe: Could I but grasp the Poles in these two hands, I'd pluck the world asunder; drop thou bright Sun, From thy transparent Sphere, thy course is done, Great Bajazet is wronged not shall thine eye Be witness to my hateful misery. Madness and anger makes my tongue betray, The Chaos of my thoughts: under this breast, An heap of indigested cares are pressed. What is it that I doubt? through every joint Dances a trembling agve, this dull blood, That courses through my veins divines no good. Ha, shouts of joy, at dead men's obsequies? I'm in a maze of woes, what thou wilt throw On me, Ioue, let it come, i'll stand thy blow. Live happy Bajazet. Happy in my fear, That word sounds sweet in my distracted ear. Happy in what? In thy friends, That grieve to see thy wrongs.
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)
Dar'st thou oppose his greatnesse? is not Gr Already wrackt enough? haue thy provd Towers Reard vp their loftie spires? which steep'd in blood, Threw a reflex of red backe to the clouds, And blush' at their owne ruines, are thy crude wounds Already stopt, and is that day forgot, In which the Turkish Mavors Ottman, Wielded a sword of death within thy Walles? Charon grew weary with hurrying soules to ell, When threescore thousand Greekes in one day fell. We know their force, and sad experience sayes, Moue not againe, Greece welters still in blood And euery crackling thunder of the heauens Speakes the shrill eccho of the Turkish drummes, Then are we drawne by you, so let it bee, About these great affaires as you decree. This phrase becomes the Greekes, submissiue states Must bend, Conqueror must rule the fates. And such are you, our vanquisht hearts must bend, But bad beginnings haue a fatall end▪ Me thinkes I see great Baiazet in armes▪ Spreading his fearefull Ensignes in the ayre, Like some prodigious Comet, wee may feare Speedy revenge vulesse some quicke aduise Worke a prevention of his future hate, Tis he must sway the Scepter, or wee shall heare A dreadfull defiance ratled in our eare, Hees strong in friends, and power, vve must descend, To our iust dutie, or our latest end. Renowned Vice-roy, thy perswading thoughts Haue predeuin'd most truely these effects, And we applaud thy Counsell, let vs three Ioyne our best strength, that these ensuing arres May be compos'd without the stroke of Warres: Corte is wise, and milde, and being so, He hates the rumour of a publike foe. Nobly resolu'd (Greece sings) if the event, Proue but so happy, as honest the intent. But stand aside, Baiazet is come. Am I not Emperor? hee that breaths a no, Damnes in that negative illable his soule, Durst any god gain-say it, he should feele The strength of fiercest Gyants in mine armes, Mine angers at the highest, and I could shake The firme foundation of the earthly Globe: Could I but graspe the Poles in these two handes, I'de plucke the world asunder; droppe thou bright Sunne, From thy transparant Spheare, thy course is done, Great Baiazet is wrong'd not shall thine eye Be witnesse to my hatefull misery. Madnesse and anger makes my tongue betray, The Chaos of my thoughts: vnder this brest, An heape of indigested caes are prest. What is it that I doubt? through every joynt Daunces a trembling agve, this dull blood, That courses through my veines devines no good. Ha, shovts of ioy, at dead mens obsequies? I'me in a maze of woes, what thou wilt throw On me, Ioue, let it come, ile stand thy blow. Live happy Baiazet. Happy in my feare, That word sounds sweet in my distracted eare. Happy in what? In thy friends, That grieve to see thy wrongs.