The Raging Turk, or Bajazet the Second · chunk 27 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 · 524 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
This hour, Hath hatched a richer project in my brain, Whose wished event, shall strangle envies breath, And strike ambition dead in every breast. Sirrah, draw hence the body to the ditch, Whither the filth of the whole City runs, There overwhelmed in blood; go, quickly do't; What dost thou grin thou visage of an ape? I'll rather hang myself then endure this. Nay, come; be patient and I'll use thee well, Why— 'twas a Sceptre struck thee, and 'twill work Diviner operation in thy blood Then thou canst dream of. I'd rather be struck cross the teeth with a pudding Then cross the back with a sceptre. A man would guess so, that overviews the dimensions But to thy business. Bassaes stand ye round, Stay: who comes here? sure I should know that sature, Observe him nearly. 'tis no Courtier. Mahomates 'tis time to look about, Selimus fled? Achomates adored? My name scarce heard of through the popular reets? Had that unhappy arm of that damned Monk, Not staggered from the Mark at which he aimed, Who ever sent him hither, I had leapt Into the empty throne, and cropped the fruit Budding from treasons root; but I'll return Back to my Province, this unknown disguise, Shall search my Father's closest policies. Mahomates disguised. By heaven 'twas he He pries into my counsels: let it be. we'll forward in our business, which being done, we'll cool the hot ambition of each son, As mine already is, quick moving time Hath cast a snowy whiteness on my hairs, And frosty age hath quelled the heat of youth, Mine intellectual eyes, which ever yet Gazed on the world's rich gilded vanities, Are now turned inward, and behold within, Dismal confusion of unpardoned sin▪ E'er since I first was settled on this Throne, My cares have clogged the swiftness of the hours, And wrought a tedious irksomeness of life, Murders have masked the forehead of the Sun With purple-coloured clouds, and he hath blushed At the bloodsucking cruelty of state. there's not one little angle of this Court, Whose guilty walls have not concealed a knot Of traitors, squaring out some hideous plot, Against my safety; now at last I spy The dangers of perplexed Majesty. And were it not for a religious fear Of after-harmes, which wretchedly might tear And spoil the body of this Monarchy, Here at this instant would I strike the sail, And proud top-gallant of mine eminence, Hurl up my sceptre, disenthrone myself, And let the green heads scramble for the Crown. Age hath taught me a staider providence Than my rash youth could reach to; I intent To place this glittering babble, on the head Of some successor, e'er I yet am dead, So give it out; thereby I le try the love And favour of the people: whom they seem Most to affect I'll raise to that esteem, How do you like the counsel? As we could like A voice of health sent from the careful gods. This news will lay the fury of your sons, And breed low duty in them all in hope Of the reward proposed.
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)
This houre, Hath hatcht a richer project in my braine, Whose wisht event, shall strangle envies breath, And strike ambition dead in euery breast. Sirrah, draw hence the body to the ditch, Whither the filth of the whole Citie runs, There ouerwhelm't in blood;goe, quickly doo't; What doost thou grin thou visage of an ape? Ile rather hang my selfe then endure this. Nay, come; be patient and Ile vse thee well, Why—'twas a Scepter strooke thee, and 'twill worke Diviner operation in thy blood Then thou canst dreame of. I'de rather be strucke erosse the teeth with a pudding Then crosse the backe with a scepter. A man would guesse so, that ouer-viewes the dimensions But to thy businesse. Bassas stand yee round, Stay: who comes here? sure I should know that sature, Obserue him neerely. Tis no Courtier. Mahometes 'tis time to looke about, Selymus fledde? Achomates ador'd? My name scarce heard of through the popular reets? Had that vnhappy arme of that dam'nd Monke, Not staggerd from the Marke at which he aym'd, Who euer sent him hither, I had leapt Into the emptie throne, and cropt the fruit Budding from treasons roote; but Ile returne Backe to my Province, this vnknowne disguise, Shall search my Fathers closest policies. Mahometes disguis'd. By heauen 'twas he He pryes nto my counsells: let it bee. Wee'le forward in our businesse, which beeing done, Weele coole the hot ambition of each sonne, As mine alreadie is, quicke mouing time Hath cast a snowy whitenesse on my haires, And frosty age hath quel'd the heate of youth, Mine intellectuall eyes, which euer yet Gaz'd on the worlds rich gilded vanities, Are now turn'd inward, and behold within, Dismall confusion of vnpardoned inne▪ E'r since I first was setled on this Throne, My cares haue clog'd the swiftnesse of the houres, And wrought a tedious irkesomnese of life, Murders haue mask'd the forehead of the Sunne With purple-coloured clouds, and he hath blusht At the blood-sucking cruelty of state. Ther's not one little angle of this Court, Whose guiltie walls haue not conceal'd a knot Of traitors, squaring out some hideous plot, Against my safety; now at last I spie The dangers of perplexed Maiestie. And were it not for a religious feare Of after-harmes, which wretchedly might teare And spoyle the body of this Monarchy, Here at this nstant would I strike the sayle, And proud top-gallant of mine eminence, Hurle vp my scepter, dis-inthrone my selfe, And let the greene heads scramble for the Crowne. Age hath taught me a stayder prouidence Then my rash youth could reach to; I intend To place this glittering bable, on the head Of some successour, e'r I yet am dead, So giue it out; thereby le try the loue And fauour of the people: whom they seeme Most to affect 'le raise to that esteeme, How doe you like the counsell? As we could like A voice of health sent from the carefull gods. This newes will lay the ury of your sonnes, And breed low dutie in them all in hope Of the reward propos'd.