The Courageous Turk, or Amurath the First · chunk 29 of 30
Goffe, Thomas · published 1632 · first performed or written 1619 [Feb 24] (Annals) tragedy · at University unassigned nearest T25 Kings, power and law: political sententi · 486 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T25: feare, kings, power, princes, lawes, loue, state, downe, honor, men.
The Taper of your Father's life is spent We must have light still and adore a Sun That next is rising, therefore mighty Prince, Upon your shoulders must the load Of Empire rest. Why (Lords) we have a Brother Who, as in the same blood he tocke a share, So let him bear his part in Government: My Lord! within the selfsame Hemisphere It's most prodigious when two Suns appear! One body by one soul must be informed. Kingdom's like (marriage beds) must not endure Any corrival! Rome was ne'er secure Whilst she contain'da Pompey, and a Caesar. Like as one Prophet we acknowledge now So of one King in state we must allow. You know the Turkish Laws, Prince be not nice To purchase Kingdoms, whatsoever the price. He must be lopped, send for him he must dye. O happy Bajazet that he was borne To be a King when thou was Counsellor. Call in our Brother cup, Why (Lords!) is Amurath so light a weight? Is this the Trunk o'th' Turkish Emperor? Oh what a heap of thoughts are come to naught What a light weight is he unto six men Who durst stand under Ossa, and sustain it: My Lord, these Meditations fit not you: You are to take the honour he hath left, And think you of his rising, not his fall! Let your decree be sudden, here's your Brother. Brother, I could have wished we might have met At times of better greeting! Our father hath Bequeathed to the Grave these ashes, to us his State. Nor have we leisure (yet) to mourn for him Brother, you know our state hath made a Law, That, he that sits in a Majestic Chair, Must not endure the next succeeding heir. Yes, we do: And (Brother) do you think 'tis crime enough To dye, because I am son to an Emperor? My Lord, we know their breathes in him that ay Of true affection, that he doth much desire You should be equal in his Kingdom with him: But still when two great evils are proposed: The less is to be chosen. My Lord, your life's but one: Kings are the threads whereto there are inweaved Millions of lives, and he that must rule all Must still be one that is select from all. Although we speak, yet think them not our words, But what the Land speaks in us! King's are free: And must be impatient of equality. And is't even so? How have these Dogs fawned on me licked my feet When Amurath yet lived? Felt all my thoughts, And soothed them to the sight of Empire, And now the first would set their politic hands To strangle up that breath, a blast of which Their nostrils have sucked up like perfumed air Well brother well by all men this is spoke, That heart that cannot bow, may yet be broke.
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)
The Taper of your Fathers life is spent We must have light still and adore a Sunne That next is rising, therefore mighty Prince, Vpon your shoulders must the load Of Empire rest. Why (Lords) we have a Brother Who, as in the same bloud he tocke a share, So let him beare his part in Government: My Lord! within the selfe-same Hemispheare It's most prodigious when two Sunnes appeare! One body by one soule must be inform'd. Kingdomes like (marriage beds) must not indure Any corrivall! was nere secure Whilst she contain'da Pompey, and a Caesar. Like as one Prophet we acknowledge now So of one King in state we must allow. You know the Turkish Lawes, Prince be not nice To purchase Kingdomes, whatsoever the price. He must be lopt, send for him he must dye. O happy Baiazet that he was borne To be a King when thou was Counseller. Call in our Brother cup, Why (Lords!) is Amrath so light a weight? Is this the Truncke oth' Trkish Emperor? Oh what a heape of thoughts are come to naught What a light weight is he unto sixe men Who durst stand under Ossa, and sustaine it: My Lord, these Meditations fit not you: You are to take the honour he hath left, And thinke you of his rising, not his fall! Let your decree be suddaine, heere's your Brother. Bother, I could have wished we might have met At tims of better greeting! Our father hath Bequeath'd to the Grave these ashes, to us his State. No have we leysure (yet) to mourne for him Brothe, you kow our state hath made a Law, That, he that sits in a Majesticke Chayre, Must not endure the next succeeding heyre. Yes, we doe: And (Brother) doe you thinke 'tis crime enough To dye, because I am sonne to an Emperour? My Lord, we know their breathes in him that ay Of true affection, that he doth much desire You should be equall in his Kingdome with him: But still when two great evils are propos'd: The lesse is to be chosen. My Lord, your life's but one: Kings are the threads whereto there are inweaved Millions of lives, and he that must rule all Must still be one that is select from all. Although we speake, yet thinke them not our words, But what the Land speakes in us! Kings are free▪ And must be impatient of equality. And is't ene so? How have thse Dogs fawn'd on me lickt my feet When Ath yet lived? Felt all my thoughts, And soothed them to the sight of Empyrie▪ And now the first would set their politique hands To strangle up that breath, a blast of which Their nosthrils have suckt up like perfum'd ayre Well brother well by all men this is spoke, That heart that cannot bow, may yet be brok.