The Courageous Turk, or Amurath the First · chunk 13 of 30
Goffe, Thomas · published 1632 · first performed or written 1619 [Feb 24] (Annals) tragedy · at University T17 Eastern conquest: Persians, Turks and so typicality 0.78 · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
Then King, to add fresh oil unto thy hate, And make it raise itself a greater flame, See here these Christians heads; thus still shall fall Before thy fatal hand, these impious slaves; So long as number's wanting to the sand, So long as day shall come with Sun, and night Be spangled with the twilight dawning stars, Whilst floods shall fall into the Ocean Shall Christians tremble at Turk's thundering strokes. Soam I Amurath the great King of Turks, O how it glads me thus to pash their brains, To rend their locks, to tear these Infidels! Who thundered when these heads were smitten off? Stars I could reach you with my lofty hand, 'Tis well enough, enough, (great Amurath) For now I sit in Orcanes' great throne, And sacrifice due rites to Mahomet; Yet why enough? I'll on and dung the Earth, With Christians rotten trunks, that from that soil, May spring more Cadmean Monsters to o'ercome them. Captains, what Conntries next shall we make flow, With Channels of their blood? To Servia (my Lord) there are troops of arms, Gathered to resist Mahometans. At Bulgaria, there they set on fire, The Countries as they pass, 'twere good we haste. Why they do well! we like of their desire To make the flame in which themselves must fry! Ruin, destruction, famine, and the sword, Shall all invade them, Sun stay thou thy flight, And see the snakes in their own River drenched, Whilst with their blood our furious thirst is quenched! Whether (Bulgaria) whether must we fly? The Butcherous Turk's at hand. Blessed Sanctity! If thou didst ere guard goodness, wall our towers? Bring strength into our Nerves! For in thy cause Our Breasts upon their Rapiers we will run; We'll with just hope confront the tyrant's rage, Meet him in the face, fury will find us arms: There is a power can guard us from all harms. Let's be sudden: for we'll not find scope, To see our haps. Who most doth fear, may hope. Governor, Captains, hast unto your arms: The dangers imminent, and the Turk's at hand (Cobelitz) must we still wade thus deep In blood and terror. Yes (Servia) we must, we should, we ought, Ease and success keeps baseness company, Shall we not blush to see the register Of those great Romans, and Heroic Greekes, Which did those acts (at which our hearts are struck Beneath all credence) only to win fame: And shall not we for that Eternal name? To live without all credence even to win fame, Is not to know life's chief, and better parts: To us of future hopes; calamity Must help to purchase immortality. Well spoke (true Christian) they who still live high, And snoare in praised applause ne'er know to bear, A contumely, or check a fate, Wisely to steer a Ship, or guide an Army, Undaunted hardiness is requisite; (O) then le's to our weapons! make him yield, They which deny all right, oft give't i'th' Field.
seed 43: T18 · seed 44: T18 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Then King, to adde fresh oyle unto thy hate, And make it raise it selfe a greater flame, See here these Christians heads; thus still shall fall Before thy fatall hand, these impios slaves; So long as number's wanting to the sand, So long as day shall come with Sunne, and night Be spangled with the twilight dawning starres, Whilst floods shall fall into the Ocean Shall Christians tremble at Turkes thundring stroakes. Soam I Amurath the great King of Turkes, O how it glads me thus to pash thei braines, To rend their lockes, to teare these Infidels! Who thundered when these heads were smitten off? Starres I could reach you with my lofty hand, 'Tis well enough, enough, (great Amurath) For now I sit in Orchanes great throne, And sacrifice due rites to Mahomet; Yet why enough? Ile on and dung the Earth, With Christians rotted trunckes, that frō that soyle, May spring more Cadmean Monsters to orecome thē. Captaines, what Conntries next shal we make flow, With Channels of their bloud? To Servia (my Lord) there are troupes of armes, Gathered to resist Mahometans. At Bulgaria, there they set on fire, The Countries as they passe, 'twere good we haste. Why they doe well! we like of their desire To make the flame in which themselves must fry! Ruine, destruction, famine, and the sword, Shall all invade them, Sunne stay thou thy flight, And see the snakes in their owne River drencht, Whilt with their bloud our furious thirst is quecht! Whether (Bulgaria) whether must we flye? The Butcherous Ture's at hand. Blest Sanctity▪ If thou didst ere guard goodnesse, wall our towers? Bring strength into our Nerves! For in thy cause Our Brests upon their Rapiers we will run; We'll with just hope the tyrants rage, Meet him in the face, fury will de us armes: There is a power can guard us from al harmes. Let's be sudain: for we' not find scope, To see our haps. Who most doth feare, may hope. Governor, Captaines, hast unto your armes: The dangers imminent, and the Turke's at hand (Cobelitz) must we still wade thus deepe In blood and terror. Yes (Servia) we must, we should, we ought, Ease and successe keeps basenesse company, Shall we not blush to see the register Of those great Romans, and Heroicke Greekes, Which did those acts (at which our hearts are struck Beneath all credence) onely to win fame: And shall not we for that Eternall name? To live without all credence even to win fame, Is not to know life's chiefe, and better parts: To us of future hopes; calamity Must helpe to purchase immortality. Well spoke (true Chistian) they who still live high, And snoare in prais'd applause nere know to beare, A contuely, or checke a fate, Wisely to steere a Ship, or guide an Army, Vndanted hardinesse is requisite; (O) then lets to our weapos! make him yeild▪ They which deny all right, ofgive't ith' Field.