The Raging Turk, or Bajazet the Second · chunk 46 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 · 507 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Let us haste, now Selimus we come to gratulate Stay— Stand. How? What means this? Fate to your lives. Sweet doings. 'Tis no less, Sir witness this, Traitor I'm slain. Cross fortune, wicked chance: But I must make the best of it. Is he dead? Villain he is, and thy bad turn is next: What devil did incite thee, to incite Isaac against friends? Injurious slave. Urge him to no confession, till the rack Force from his closest thought unwilling truth, He shall be doomed for this notorious fact Unto continual pains, Hunger, oppression, want and slavery. That struck me full.— Have at thee: Hold thou art victor. I have met the price Of treason death, and as I hoped to raise By blood, I fall, so have I missed my scope; Delusion is the end of lawless hope. Mesithes stay one moment, art thou gone, I am not far behind, I feel the blood By slow degrees ebb, from my fainting breast, I am heart struck, and wounded even to death, A Scene of slaughterthis.— O just heavens Still I plighted faith to each of these, I wished that if I failed in one, I vowed Death would thus strike me, I have gained my wish, Than you imperial Fates that intercept The brittle courses of frail mortality, Continue this firm justice, and enact A constant law, that all false meaning hearts That think of oaths as of a puff of wind, May as I do, thus sink into the grave My dying wish: so thrive each perjured knave. The night overblown, and five a clock, I wonder at their absence; what are these Our Generals murdered, our dear Selimus, With his three Bassas, and Achomates, Whose bloody hand is guilty of this fact? A trembling shakes me, 'twas some power That frowned at our proceedings. Bajazet is new born to his Sovereignty. Let's take their bodies, bear them hence in pomp Unto their greatness, and advise the foe Of their slain General stern Achomates, Sound peaceful rumours; we must resubmit To Bajazet, so heaven hath thought it fit. Set down the Book and Candle, go and provide The Potion to prevent my Fever-fit, Till when I meane to study: goe make ha. Fortune I thank thee, thou'rt a gracious Whore. Thy happy anger hath immured a Prince Within the walls of base security. Farewell thou swelling sea of Government, On whose bright crystal bosom along The graveled vessel of proud Majesty. Ambition empty all thy bag of breath, Send forth thy blast among the quiet waves, And work huge tempests to confound the Art Of the usurping Pilate Selymu●s. Treason and envy like to bickering winds, Shake the unsettled abrick of his State, That from my study windows I may laugh, To see his broken fortune swallowed up In the quick sands of danger, and the sail Puffed with the calm breath of flattering Chance, By furious whirlwinds rended into rags, And piecemeal scattered through the Ocean: But peace my chiding spirit; Come thou man
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)
Let vs hast, now Selymus we come to gratulate Stay— Stand. How? What meanes this? Fate to your liues. Sweet doings. 'Tis no lesse, Sir witnesse this, Traytor I'me slaine. Crosse fortune, wicked chance: But I must make the best of it. Is he dead? Villaine he is, and thy bad turne is next: What deuill did incite thee, to incite Isaack 'gainst friends? Iniurious slaue. Vrge him to no confession, till the rack Force from his closest thought vnwilling truth, He shall be doom'd for this notorious fact Vnto continuall paines, Hunger, oppression, want and slauery. That struck me full.—Haue at thee: Hold thou art victor. I haue met the price Of treason death, and as I hop'd to raise By blood, I fall, so haue I mist my scope; Dlusion is the end of lawlesse hope. Mesithes stay one moment, art thou gone, I am not farre behinde, I feele the blood By slow degrees ebb, from my fainting breast, I am heart struck, and wounded euen to death, A Sceane of slaughterthis.—O iust heauens Still I plighted faith to each of these, I wiht that if I fail'd in one, I vow'd Death would thus strike me, I haue gain'd my wish, Then you imperiall Fates that intercept The brittle courses of fraile mortality, Continue this firme iustice, and enact A constant law, that all alse meaning hearts That thinke of oathes as of a puffe of winde, May as I doe, thus sinke into the graue My dying wish: so thriue each periur'd knaue. The ight ouerblowne, and fiue a clocke, I wonder at their absence; what are these Our Generalls murdered, our deere Selymus, With his three Bassaes, and Achomaes, Whose bloody hand is guilty of this fact? A trembling shakes me, 'twas some power That frown'd at our proceedings. Baiazet is new bore to his Soueraignty. Let's take their bodies, beare them hence in pompe Vnto their greatnesse, and aduise the foe Of their slaine Generall sterne Ahomates, Sound peacefull rumours; we must resubmit To Baiazet, so heauen hath thought it fit. Set downe the Booke and Candle, goe and pruide The Potion to preuent my Feauer-fit, Till when I meane to study: goe make ha. Fortune I thanke thee, thou'rt a gracious Whore. Thy happy anger hath immur'd a Prince Within the wals of base security. Farewell thou swelling sea of Gouernment, On whose bright christall bosome lates along The grauelled vssell of proud Maiestie. Ambition empty all thy bagge of breath, Send forth thy blast among the quiet waues, And worke huge tempests to confound the Art Of the vsurping Pilae Selymus. Treason and enuie like to bickering windes, Shake the vnsetled abrick of his State, That from my study windowes I may laugh, To see his broken fortune swallowed vp In the quick sands of danger, and the sayle Puft with the calme breath of slattering Chance, By furious whirle-windes rended into ragges, And peece-meale scattred through the Ocean: But peace my chiding spirit; Come thou man