The Raging Turk, or Bajazet the Second · chunk 10 of 51
Goffe, Thomas · published 1631 · first performed or written 1618 [c.1613-c.1618] (Annals) tragedy · at University T17 Eastern conquest: Persians, Turks and so typicality 0.79 · 519 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
Have at thee then. Not stir? now by my sword Thou shalt have fairer play before thy death: Take back thy sword, in that I recommit My forfeit to thy charge, thy life with it. Oh! hold thy conquering hand, and give my soul A quiet passage to her rest; my blood Begins to waste, and a benuming cold, Freezes my vital spirits: Achmetes go, Tell Bajazet that thou hast slain his foe. Farewell, brave son of Mars, thy fame shall stay With us, although thy soul flit hence away. I have not lied, Achmetes thou hast slain, My hopes, and therefore me, my wounds are shallow, But my state desperate, Ha? what shall I do? Armenia's King is 〈◊〉 acke to his home, Cold entertainment will attend me there; The field is empty, every man retired, Only a few dead carcasses, and I, Then whither shall I bend my steps? to Rome! To Rome then let it be: Bishop I come, thouart a religious thing, and I will trust, My life to one so innocently just. Indeed we may be thought upon in time, When there be Countries more than there be men, We may get some preferment: sit at home And prove good boys, and please our father well. My thoughts are two unbridled, Bajazet, I neither can, nor will endure thy curb, My compressed valour like a strangled fire. Breaks out in violent flames, and I must rule. Trizham and Mahomet are slipped in haste Each to their several Province, we must stay, That are their Elders for another day; This Court will prove our scaffold where we stand Placed in the eye of angry Bajazet: Who thwarts him in his fury is but dead, And in that passions heat, off goes his head. I must not line thus. I could be content, He fears not death, whose thoughts are innocent. I thank you brother, than belike some crimes Lie heavy on my conscience, and I fear, Unless I shift my station, 'twill be known; You think well of me kind Mahometes. As well as of a brother I can think. If by a rash applying to yourself, My words have been distasteful, blame not me. Can I apply them then unto myself? Am I so loose in manners? by heaven and earth, Thou shalt repent this deeply. Stop that oath, Brothers agree, or walk hence but along Into my garden, where each springing herb Smiles on my fair content, there you shall see, How flowers of one stock, so twisted are, One in the others twinings, that they show, One stands by th'other's help, both jointly grow; These shall suffice your quarrels to remove, And dumb examples teach a lively love. Come let us go. Strait I will follow you. Away fond wretches, o that every breast Were of so dull a temper as you two. But who comes here? Brother Corcutus whither are you bent▪ What from the Court so soon? My father bids, I go to undertake the charge, his love Hath thrown upon me; That's rich Ionia. You go to rule there?
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)
Haue at thee then. Not stirre? now by my sword Thou shalt haue fayrer play before thy death: Take backe thy sword, in that I recommit My forfeit to thy charge, thy life with it. Oh! hold thy conquering hand, and giue my soule A quiet pasage to her rest; my blood Beginnes to wast, and a benuming cold, Freezes my vitall spirits: Achmetes goe, Tell Baiazet that thou hast slaine his oe. Farewell, braue onne of Mars, thy fame shall stay With vs, although thy soule flit hence away. I haue not lyd, Achmetes thou hast slaine, My hopes, and therefore me, my woundes are shallow, But my state desperate, Ha? what shall I doe? Armenia's King is acke to his home, Cold enterainment will attend me there; The field is emptie, euery man rtir'd, Onely a few dead cacasses, and I, Then whither shall I bend my steps? to Rome! To Rome then let it bee: Bishop I come, Th'art a religious thing, and I will trust, My life to one so innocently just. Indeed we may be thought vpon in time, When there be Countries more then there be men, We may get some preferment: sit at home And proue good boyes, and please our father well. My thoughts are two vnbridled, Baiazet, I neither can, nor will endure thy curbe, My comprest valor like a strangled fire. Breakes out in violent flames, and I must rule. Trizham and Mahomet are slipt in hast Each to their seuerall Prouince, we must stay, That are their Elders for another day; This Court will proue our scaffold where vve stand Plac't in the eye of angry Baiazet: Who thvvarts him in his fury is but dead, And in that passios heate, off goes his head. I must not line thus. I could bee content, He feares not death, vvhose thoughts are innocent. I thake you brother, then belike some crimes Lye heauy on my conscience, and I feare, Vnlesse I shift my station, 'twill be knowne; You thinke well of me kind Mahometes. As well as of a brother I can thinke. If by a rash applying to your selfe, My words haue beene distastfull, blame not me. Can I applie them then vnto my selfe? Am I so loose in manners? by heauen and earth, Thou shalt repent this deepelie. Stop that oath, Brothers agree, or walke hence but along Into my garden, where each springing hearbe Smiles on my faire content, there you shall see, How flowers of one stocke, so twisted are, One in the others twinings, that they shew, One stands by th'others helpe, both ioyntly grow; These shall suffice your quarrels to remooue, And dumbe examples teach a liuely loue. Come let vs goe. Straight I will follow you. Away fond wretches, ô that every breast Were of so dull a temper as you two. But who come's heere? Brother Corcutus whither are you bent▪ What from the Court so soone? My father bids, I goe to vndertake the charge, his loue Hath throwne vpon me; That's rich Ionia. You goe to rule there?