The Raging Turk, or Bajazet the Second · chunk 13 of 51
Goffe, Thomas · published 1631 · first performed or written 1618 [c.1613-c.1618] (Annals) tragedy · at University unassigned nearest T17 Eastern conquest: Persians, Turks and so · 480 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
Thy prayers were heard And I am here as safe as I went forth, Untouched by the rough hands of desperate war, Nor did I once spy danger in the field, But when I fronted Zemes, than there met Two streams of valour, sith on us was set The chance of the whole combat, others stood Expecting which of us should lose his blood: But heaven was just, and to compose the strife, This sword at one sad blow took thence his life. The heavens were just indeed, but who comes here▪ Isaac, Mesithes, and Baiazet's three sons, They come to gratulate my late success, I see their errand folded in their smiles, How cheerfully they look upon my joys, All happiness attend Achmetes. Thanks Noble friends, how fares the Emperor. Well by your guard, and he hath sent us now, All to invite your presence to a feast, We must be frolic, and this following night, Shall Crown your joy with revels and delight, Or else deprive thy soul of that good light. We must be frolic Captains, think not then On my loud drums, and staring trumpeters, Such whose strong lungs roar out a bellowing voice, Would make a man dance Antic in the fire, we'll have a choicer music, and my feet, Shall tread a neater march, than such harsh strains Can teach them, with more pleasure, and less pains. Since it hath pleased the Emperor to grace Our slender merits thus: we shall be there, To taste his bounty. we'll lead on before. I'll follow you. Ne'er to return more, I am happy above envy, and my state, Not to be thwarted with 〈◊〉 fate, I could disburden all my jealous thoughts, And shake that currish vice suspicion, off From my sincere affection, I have wronged Sure I have wronged thee Isaac thy chaste love, Cloaks not intended mischief, black deceit Cannot lie hid under so pure a white, But it would cast a coloured shadow out, Through such a slender veil, thy generous thoughts, Nourish no base detraction; thy free love Thy professed actions, say 'twere no just fate That good men's deeds should die by ill men's hate. Pray heaven they do not. fear not, I am guessed To Bajazet, expected at the feast, The day's far spent, is not Achmetes come? Not yet great Emperor. Viceroy of Greece, say now there were a man Whom my mind honoured, and I should command, To clothe his body in a suit of gold, Studded with gems, worth all the Indian snore, durst any tongue gainsay it: Surely no. What if I hated him, and should command To wrap him in a sable coloured black, And sentence him to death? Then he must die. My thoughts are troubled. What should these questions mean, Abrupt demands, one to confound the other? My liege, your guests are come.
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)
Thy prayers were heard And I am here as safe as I went forth, Vntouch't by the rough hands of desperate warre, Nor did I once spie danger in the field, But when I fronted Zemes, then there met Two streames of valor, sith on vs was set The chance of the whole combat, others stood Expecting which of vs should loose his blood: But heaven was just, and to compose the strife, This sword at one sad blow tooke thence his life. The heavens were iust indeed, but who comes heere▪ Isaack, Mesithes, and Baiazets three sonnes, They come to gratulate my late successe, I see their errand oulded in their smiles, How cheerefully they looke vpon my ioyes, All happines attend Achmetes. Thankes Noble friends, how fares the Emperor. Well by your guard, and he hath sent vs now, All to invite your presence to a feast, We must be frolike, and this following night, Shall Crowne your joy with revels and delight, Or else deprive thy soule of that good light. We must be frolicke Captaines, thinke not then On my loud drummes, and staring trumpeters, Such whose strong gs roare out a bellowing voyce, Would make a man daunce Antick in the fire, Weele haue a choicer musique, and my feete, Shall tread a neater march, then such harsh straines Can teach them, with more pleasure, and lesse paines. Since it hath pleas'd the Eperor to grace Our slender merrits thus: we shall be there, To taste his bountie. Weele lead on before. Ile follow you. Ne'r to returne more, I am happy aboue envie, and my state, Not to be thwarted with ate, I could disburden all my jealous thoughts, And shake that currish vice supition, off From my sincere affection, I haue wrong'd Sure I haue wrong'd thee Isack thy chast loue, Cloakes not intended mischiefe, blacke deceit Cannot lie hid vnder so pure a white, But it would cast a coloured shadow out, Through such a slender vayle, thy generous thoughts, Nourish no base detraction; thy free loue Thy profest actions, say t'were no just fate That good mens deedes should die by ill mens hate. Pray heaven they doe not. feare not, I am guest To Baiazet, expected at the feast, The day's farre spent, is not Achmetes come? Not yet great Emperor. Vice-roy of Greece, say now there were a man Whom my mind honored, and I should command, To cloath his body in a suite of gold, Studded with gems, worth all the Indian snore, Drst any tongue gainsay it: Surely no. What if I hated him, and should command To wrappe him in a sable coloured blacke, And sentence him to death? Then he must die. My thoughts are troubled. What should these questions meane, Abrupt demands, one to confound the other? My liege, your guests are come.