The Raging Turk, or Bajazet the Second · chunk 26 of 51
Goffe, Thomas · published 1631 · first performed or written 1618 [c.1613-c.1618] (Annals) tragedy · at University unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Come; answer my demands, first, at what time Let he the Court? I know not. Know he is fled, And know not when he fled, how can this be? After our strict enquiry, 'twas our chance To light on one that saw him take a ship, At the next haven. On one; bring forth that one, I'll sound the depth of these villainies. What's here? A barrel reared an end upon two feet? Sirrah, you guts and garbage— did you see Selimus leave the Court? So please it your— Please it? thou monster, are you now so pleasing. My Liege hold in your fury: spend not one drop Of your fierce anger, on so base a worm, Keep it entire and whole, within your breast, That with its vigour it may crush the bulk Of him whose treasons move it. So it shall, Neptune reine back thy swelling Ocean, Invert the current of thy guilty streams Which further treacherous plots, mild Aeolus, (That when a peevish goddess did entreat, Scatteredst a Trojan Navy through the seas) Now Bajazet a Turkish Emperor Bids thee send forth thy jarring prisoners, Into the seas deep bowels, let them raise Tempests shall dash against the firmament Of the vast heavens, and in their stormy rage, Either confound or force the vessel back, In which the traitor sails; now, now begin Or I shall think thee conscious of this sin. What would this monk? Only your blessed alms. I'm in a liberal vain— Traitor I'm slain, I feel the bullet run quite through my sides, Great Mahomet hath kept you safe from harm, It never touched you. Oh— I am slain, Open the gates of sweet Elysium, Take in my wounded soul: Bring forth that Monk, I'll make him my soul's harbinger, he shall Forerun my coming and provide a place Amongst the gloomy banks of Acheron, Then shall he dwell with me in those black shades And it shall be my bliss to torture him. he's gone already, I have sent him hence. Fly then my soul, and nimbly follow him, He must not scape my vengeance: Charon stay, One waftage will serve both, I come, away. Let not conceit thus steal away your life. Me thinks I feel no blood ebb from my heart, My spirits faint but slowly. Hear me Sir, You are not wounded. Ha? not wounded. Untouched as yet; His quaking hand deceived him of his aim, And he quite missed your body, here behold The bullet yet unstained with blood. Now I believe thee: oh the baleful fate Of Princes, and each eminent estate! How every precious jewel in a Crown, Charms mad ambition, and makes envy dote On the bewitching Beauty of its shine; Indeed proud Majesty is ushered in By superstitious awful reverence, But cursed mischiefs follow; and those are Treasons in peace, black stratagems in war. But where's the dwarf? Isaac go send him in▪ Bid bold Mesithes, and sage Mustapha Quickly attend us; go. I shall.
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)
Come; answere my demands, first, at what time Let he the Court? I know not. Know he is fledde, And know not when he fledde, how can this be? After our strickt enquiry, 'twas our chance To light on one that saw him take a ship, At the next hauen. On one; bring foorth that one, Ile sound the depth of these villanies. What's here? A barrell rear'd an end vpon two feete? Sirrah, you guts and garbage—did you see Selymus leaue the Court? So please it your— Please it? thou monster, are you now so pleasing. My Liege hold in your fury: spend not one drop Of your fierce anger, on so base a worme, Keepe it entire and whole, within your breast, That with it's vigor it may crush the bulke Of him whose treasons moue it. So it shall, Neptune reine backe thy swelling Ocean, Invert the current of thy guilty streames Which further trecherous plots, mild Aeolus, (That when a peevish goddesse did intreat, Scattredst a Trojan Navy through the seas) Now Baiazet a Turkish Emperor Bids thee send forth thy jarring prisoners, Into the seas deepe bowels, let them raise Tempests shall dash against the firmament Of the vast heavens, and in their stormy rage, Either confound or force the vessell backe, In which the traytor sayles; now, now beginne Or I shall thinke thee conscious of this sinne. What would this monke? Only your blessed almes. I'me in a liberall vaine— Traitr I'me slaine, I feele the bullet run quite through my sides, Great Mahomet hath kept you safe from harme, It neuer toucht you. Oh—I am slaine, Open the gates of sweet Elysium, Take in my wounded soule: Bring foorth that Monke, Ile make him my soules harbinger, he shall Fore-runne my comming and provide a place Amongst the gloomy banks of Acheron, Then shall he dwell with me in those blacke shades And it shall be my blisse to torture him. Hee's gone already, I haue sent him hence. Fly then my soule, and nimbly follow him, He must not scape my vengeance: Charn stay, One waftage will serue both, I come, away. Let not conceit thus steale away your life. Me thinkes I feele no blood ebbe from my heart, My spirits faint but slowly. Heare me Sir, You are not wounded. Ha? not wounded. Vntoucht as yet; His quaking hand deceiu'd him of his aime, And he quite mist your body, here behold The bullet yet vnstain'd with blood. Now I beleeue thee: oh the balefull fate Of Princes, and each eminent estate! How euery precious jewell in a Crowne, Charmes mad ambition, and makes envy doate On the bewitching Beauty of it's shine; Indeede proud Majesty is vsher'd in By superstitious awfull reverence, But cursed mischiefs follow; and those are Treasons in peace, blacke stratagems in warre. But wher's the dwarffe? Isaack goe send him in▪ Bid bold Mesithes, and sage Mustapha Quickly attend vs;goe. I shall.