The Raging Turk, or Bajazet the Second · chunk 4 of 51
Goffe, Thomas · published 1631 · first performed or written 1618 [c.1613-c.1618] (Annals) tragedy · at University unassigned nearest T53 The crown: kingship claimed, resigned an · 495 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
My sword, and life, both which are vowed to thee, Are still at thy command: walk but along, Corcutus shall resign, thou have no wrong. Death, and the furies plunge the obsequious slaves, Would he have joined with us? we would have kept Corcutus high, and honoured, where he sits In spite of a whole host of Baiazet's. Me thinks your power might have been greater far Over Achmetes, one addict to you By no less bond of duty, than the son Is to the father: Mustapha I'll tell you Had not my daughter been espoused to him, I had named his death, and by some plot Worked him a quick destruction long e'er this; Now let us temporize with Bajazet; Yet keep thy nature ever, and be true To thine own profit; Fortune may advance Some other Prince, worth both thy love and mine. we'll stay her leisure, See more Harpies gathered to catch a Crown, O 'tis a charming bait. Me thinks these City walls smile on our entrance, As if they knew great Baiazet's three sons, Were come to grace their beauty. But We should frown On them which harbour such black treasons, Well, Were I great Bajazet, I'd ring a noise Of spiteful horror, that should make the ground Tremble beneath their weight at such a sound: A younger son enthroned an Emperor. Brother contain yourself, come le's away, To see the end that waits on this sad day. What Mahomet? And Trizham? here's a sight Of one man's issue, Noble Bajazet, Brothers we have jumped together? All save one, And he's a great deal better so alone. Corcutus 'tis you mean, who though he reign, Above us now, yet must fall back again, Into our rank, 'tis Bajazet must rise, And he descend, such a report there flies. Did he not frown, and storm? It moved him much, And wrought strange passions in him, when he read Your name, and found your name so entitled. Cling to my temples thou blessed ornament, Be ever unremoved, though all the gods Chide me in thunder for this insolence, Am I in heaven? in state placed on the sphere Of eminence, but barely to appear, With faint, and borrowed lustre, then descend, Ranked with the vulgar heads, first let me feel, The Tition vulture, or Ixion's wheel; And the worst torture hell itself can bring, To scourge my soul, o let me dye a King; But stay, I must bethink me at what rate, I purchase these fair trappings: ha? the curse Of him that got me: start my daunted spirits, Shall I usurp a throne, and sit above my father, Whilst the gaping pit of hell, With wide stretched jaws, yawns for my fall, O I am struck with horror, and the slaves of stix, Already sting my wounded soul. Will you fair Prince reject all future hopes Of just succession, and afflict your Sire, By your unjust detainment of his Crown.
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)
My sword, and life, both which are vow'd to thee, Are still at thy command: walke but along, Corcutus shall resigne, thou haue no wrong. Death, and the furies plunge the obsequious laues, Would he have joyn'd with vs? we would haue kept Corcutus high, and honoured, where he sits In spight of a whole hoast of Baiazets. Me thinkes your power might haue bin greater farre Ouer Achmetes, one adict to you By no lesse bond of dutie, then the sonne Is to the father: Mustapha Ile tell you Had not my daughter beene espoused to him, I had nam'd his death, and by some plot Work't him a quicke destruction long e'r this; Now let vs temporize with Baiazet; Yet keepe thy nature ever, and be true To thine owne profit; Fortune may aduance Some other Prince, worth both thy loue and mine. Weele stay her leasure, See more Harpies gathered to catch a Crowne, O tis a charming baite. Me thinks these City walles smile on our entrance, As if they knew great Baiazets three sonnes, Were come to grace their beautie. But We should frowne On them which harbor such blacke treasons, Well, Were I great Baiazet, I'de ring a noyse Of spightfull horrour, that should make the grovnd Tremble beneath their weight at such a sound: A younger sonne enthron'd an Emperour. Brother containe your selfe, come lets away, To see the end that waits on this sad day. What Mahomet? And Trizham? heer a sight Of one mans issue, Noble Baiazet, Brothers we haue iumpt together? All save one, And hee's a great deale better so alone. Corcutus t'is you meane, who though he raigne, Aboue vs now, yet must fall backe againe, Into our rancke, t'is Baiazet must rise, And hee descend, such a report there flyes. Did he not frowne, and storme? It mooued him much, And wrought strange passios in him, when he read Your name, and found your name so intituled. Cling to my temples thou blest ornament, Be ever vnremoued, though all the gods Chide me in thunder for this insolence, Am I in heaven? in state placed on the spheare Of eminence, but barely to appeare, With faint, and borrowed luster, then descend, Rankt with the vulgar heads, first let me feele, The Titio vulture, or Ixions wheele; And the worst torture hell it selfe can bring, To scourge my soule, ô let me dye a King; But stay, I must bethinke me at what rate, I purchase these faire trappings: ha? the curse Of him that got mee: start my daunted spirits, Shall I vsurpe a throne, and sit aboue my father, Whilest the gaping pit of hell, With wide stretcht iawes, yawnes for my fall, O I am strucke with horror, and the slaves of stix, Already sting my wounded soule. Will you faire Prince reiect all future hopes Of just succession, and afflict your Sire, By your vniust detainment of his Crowne.