The Courageous Turk, or Amurath the First · chunk 24 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 0.75 · 547 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T17: tamburlaine, persian, cyrus, king, mahomet, arms, mighty, assyrian, thousand, army.
Rise (my dear child) as Marble against rain, So I at these obedient showers, melt! Thus I do raise thy husband: thus thy Babes: Freely admitting you to former state. But Aladim, wake not our wrath again! Patience grows fury that is ofter stirred; When Conquerors wax calm, and cease to hate, The conquered should not dare to reiterate. Be thou our son and friend. By all the rites of Mahomet I vow it! Then for to seal unto our love, Yourself shall lead a wing in Servia, In our immediate Warres, we are to meet The Christians in Cassano's Plains with speed: Great Amurath ne'er had time to breath himself: So much, as to have warring with new foes; No day securely to his Sceptre shone, But one War's end, still brought another on. Let now victorious wreathes engird our brows, Let Angels 'stead of Soldiers wield our arms, Against him, who that our Citties might be his Strives to depopulate, and make them none! But look, look in the air (me thinks) I see An host of Soldiers brandishing their swords; Each corner of the Heaven shoots thunderbolts, To nail these impious forces to the Earth. Soldiers stand to 't! though fortune bandy at's Let's stand her shocks, like sturdy Rockesith ' Sea. On which the angry foaming Billows beat, With frivolous rush: and break themselves, not them; Stand like the undainted countenance o'th' sky, Or, like the Sun, which when the foolish King, Thought to obscure with a Cloud of Darts, Out looked them all, our lives are all enchanted, And more invulnerate than Thetis son. We shall have hands snd weapons, if the stone, Of fortune glide from under our weak feet, And we must fall: yet, let all Christians say, 'Tis she, and not the cause, that wins the day. We must believe Heaven hath a greater care Of them, whom fortune doth so oft out dare! Gentlemen, brothers, friends Soldiers, Christians, We have no reason to command of Heaven A thing denied to all mortality. Nor should we be so impudently proud, As in this weak condition to repute Ourselves above the stroke of Lady Chance, A caution must divine it ever fixed, That whilst her checks, equally fall out, Community should ease their bitterness. I could afresh now shed those Princely tears To think such sudden rain should attend Heroic spirits glittering in bright arms! But if the Grecian (when he heard the dreams Disputed subtly by Philosophers, To prove innumerable extant worlds) Was strike with pensiveness, and wept to think He had not yet obtained one for himself; What terror can affright a Christians thoughts Who knows there is a world, at liberty To breath in, when this glass of life is broke? Our foes with circling fury are entrenched; Pelions of earth and darkness shall o'erlade them, Whilst we shall mount, and these our spirits light, Shall be yet ponderous to depress them lower. Nay, my Enthusiastic soul divines, That some weak hand shall from the blazing Zone Snatch Lightning, which shall strike the snarling Cur With horror and amazement to the Earth! Which Hell cannot oppose! Turk, Tyrannize! Stand, yet at length to fall my sacrifice. Super-Olympicke vigour will (no doubt) Squeeze all thy supercilious rancour out!
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)
Rise (my deere child) as Marble against raine, So I at these obedient showers, melt! Thus I doe raise thy husbad: thus thy Babes: Freely admitting you to former state. But Alad, wake not our wath agaie! "Patience growes fury that is ofter stirred; When Conquerours waxe calme, and cease to ate, The conquered should not dare to reiteate. Be thou our sonne and friend. By all the rites of Mahomet I vow it! Then for to seale uo our love, Your selfe shall leade a wig in ervia, In our immediate Wares, we are to meet The Christians in Cassanoe's Plaines with speed: Great Amurath nere had time to breath himselfe: So much, as to have warring with new foes; No day securely to is Scepter shone, But one Warres end, still brought another on. Let now victorious wreathes ingirt our rowes, Let Angels 'stead of Souldiers wield our armes, 'Gainst him, who that our Cittis might be his Strives to depopulate, and make them none! But looke, looke in the ayre (me thinks) I se An host of Souldiers brandishing their swords; Each corner of the Heaven shoots thunderbolts, To naile these impious forces to the Earth. Souldiers stand to 't! though fortune bandy at's Let's stand her shockes, like sturdy Rockesith' Sea. On which the angry foaming Billowes beat, With frivolous rush: and breake themselves, not thm; Stand like the undainted countenance oth' sky, Or, like the Sunne, which when the foolish King▪ Thought to obscure with a Cloud of Darts, Out lookt them all, our lives are all inchanted, And more ivulnerate than Thetis sonne. We shall have hands snd weapons, if the stone, Of fortune glide from under our weake feet, And we must fall: yet, let all Christians say, 'Tis she, and not the cause, that wins the day. We must beleeve Heaven hath a greater care Of them, whom fortune doth so oft out dare! Gentlemen, brothers, friends Souldiers, Christians, We have no reason to command of Heaven A thing denyed to all mortality. Nor should we be so impudetly proud, As in this weake condition to repute Our selves above the stroake of Lady Chance, A caution must divine it ever fixt, That whilt her checkes, equally fall out, Community should ease their bitternesse. I could afresh now shed those Princely teares To thinke suh suddaine raine should attend Heroicke spirits glittering in bright armes▪ But if the Grecian (when he heard the dreames Disputd subtilly by Philosophers, To prove innumerable extant worlds) Was trucke with pensive, and wept to thinke He had not yet obtain'd ne for himselfe; What terror can affright a Christians thoughts Who knowes there is a world, at liberty To breath in, when this glasse of life is broke? Our foes with cirling furie are intrencht; Pelions of earth and darknesse shall orelade them, Whilst we shall mount, and these our spirits light, Shall be yet ponderous to depresse them lower. Nay, my nthesiasticke soule divines, That some weake hand shall from the blazing Zone Snatch Lightning, which shal strike th snarling Cr With horror and amazement to the Earth! Which Hell cannot oppose! Turke, Tyrannize! Stand, yet at legth to fall my sacrifice. Super-Olympicke vigor will (no doubt) Squease all thy supercilious rancor out!