The Courageous Turk, or Amurath the First · chunk 9 of 30
Goffe, Thomas · published 1632 · first performed or written 1619 [Feb 24] (Annals) tragedy · at University T25 Kings, power and law: political sententi typicality 0.78 · 500 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T25: feare, kings, power, princes, lawes, loue, state, downe, honor, men.
Turk, Amurath, slave nay something base, King! For all airy titles which the Gods Have blasted man withal, to make them swell With puffed up honour, and ambitious wind, This name of King holds greatest antipathy With manly government, for if we weigh, 'Tis subjects, and not Kings bear all the sway. Each whispered mur mur from their idle breath, Condemns a King to Infamy, to death; Were there a Metempsucocosis of souls, And nature should a free Election grant What things they afterwards would reinform The vain and haughtiest minds the Sun ere saw, Would choose its Cottage in some Shepherd's flesh, Nay, be confined within some Dog or Cat, Than Antique like prank in a King's gay-clotheses, Were I no King, and had no Majesty, I had more than all Kings, blessed liberty; And without rumour might enjoy my choice, Not fearing Censure of each popular voice; Poor men may love, and none their wills correct: But all turn Satyrs of a Kings affect! O my base greatness! What disastrous star, Professed itself a Midwife at my birth, To shape me into such prodigious States, But hence regard of tongues! Were we a Saint, Some envious tongue would dare our names to taint: And he from slander is at securest rest, Not that hath none, but that regards it least. Open you envious Curtains here's a sight, That might commend the act of Love so chaste; Were now the chariot-guider of the Sun Weary on's task, and would entreat a day Of Heaven to rest in, here's a radiant Look, That might be fixed i'th' midst o'th' Axletree; And in despite of dark conspiring Clouds, She would outshine Sun, Moon, and all the Stars, O, I could court thee now (my sweet) a fresh, Mixing a kiss with every period: Telling the Lilies how they are but won, Earth in the vernant spring is dull, and dark, Compared with this aspect! the Eastern air, Famed with the wings of Mercury and Iove, Infectious, but compared with this perfume! Hence then th'ambition of that furious * youth, Who knew not what a crime his rashness was! I might o'ercome more Kingdoms; have more dominion Enthrone myself an Emperor! o'th' world, I might! I might! Amurath thou mightst! The Christians now will scoff at Mahomet; Perchance they sent this wretch thus to enchant me! O my perplexed thoughts! tush I'll to bed Should the commanding Thunder of the Gods Prohibit me, or strike me in the act! Talk on (vain rumour) fame I dare thy worst! Call me a Lusty, Lazy, wanton, Coward! Should I win all the world, my breath once fled, My bad would still survive, all good be dead. Eumorphe, sweet, I come! you sacred powers, Who have bestowed some happiness on man, To help to pass away this sinful life, Grant me a youthful vigour yet a while, Full veins, free strength, complete and manly fence To know, and taste a beauty most immense! Amurath, Amurath?
seed 43: T25 · seed 44: T6 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Turke, Amurath, slave nay something baser▪ King! For all aery titles which the Gods Have blasted man withall▪ to make them swell With puft up honour, and ambitious wind, This name of King holds greatest antipathy With manly government▪ for if we waigh▪ 'Tis subjects, and not Kings beare all the sway. Each whispered mur mur from their idle breath, Condemnes a King to Infamy, to death; Were there a Metempsucocosis of soules, And nature should a free Election grant What things they afterwards would reinforme The vaine and haughtist minds the Sun ere saw, Would chuse it's Cottage in some Shepheards flesh, Nay, be confin'd within some Dog or Cat, Than Antique like prancke in a Kings gay-clothes▪ Were I no King, and had no Majesty, I had more than all Kings, blest liberty; And without rumor might enjoy my choyce, Not faring Censure of each popular voce; Poore men may love, and none their wils correct: But all turne Satyres of a Kings affect! O my base greatnesse! What disasterovs starre, Profest it selfe a Midwife at my birth, To shape me into such prodigious States, But hence regard of tongues! Were we a Saint, Some envious tongue would dare our names to taint: And he from slander is at securest rest, Not that hath none, but that regards it least. Open you envious Curtaines here's a sight, That might commend the act of Love so Chast; Were now the chariot-guider of the Sunne Weary on's taske, and would intreat a day Of Heauen to rest in, here's a radiant Looke, That might be fixt ith' midst oth' Axletree; And in despight of darke conspiring Clouds, She would out-shine Sunne, Moone, and all the Stars, O, I could court thee now (my sweet) a fresh, Mixing a kise with every period: Telling the Lillies how they are but wanne, Earth in the vernant spring is dull, and darke, Compar'd with this aspect! the Aeasterne ayre, Famed with the wings of Mercury and ove, Infectious, but compar'd with this perfume! Hence then th'ambition of that furious youth, Who knew not what a crime his rashnesse was! I might orecome more Kingdomes; have more dominion Enthrone my selfe an Emperor! oth' world, I might! I might! Amurath thou mightst! The Christians now will scoffe at Mahomet; Perchance they sent this wretch thus to inchant me! O my perplexed thoughts! tush Ile to bed Should the commanding Thunder of the Gods Prohibite me, or strike me in the act! Talke on (vaine rumor) fame I dare thy worst! Call me a Lusty, Lazy, wanton, Coward! Should I win all the world, my breath once fled, My bad would still survive, all good be dead. Eumrphe, sweet, I come! you sacred powers, Who have bestowed some happinesse on man, To helpe to passe away this sinful ife, Grant me a youthfull vigor yet a while, Full veines, free strength, compleat and manly fence To know, and taste a beauty most immense! Amurath, Amurath?