The raging Turke, or, Baiazet the Second A tragedie vvritten by Thomas Goffe, Master of Arts, and student of Christ-Church in Oxford, and acted by the students of the same house.

Actus Quinti, Scena Decima.

Enter Solyman as newly Crowned. Souldiers, Attendants, warlike Musick.

Solym.

Is Selym••s deceased?

Sould.

He is my Lord.

Solym.

Who Solymus? what Fate durst be so bold:

Oh, I could act an holy frenzy now Selymus deceas'd? What did not Atlas tremble At such a burden? Can he support the Orbe That holds vp Selymus? is not yet the Pole Crackt with his weight? doe not the heauens preparr His funerall Exequies? Ioue I inuol••e thee now, Command the heauens that the prone Chandler shops Command that idle Phaebus, that he exhale Matter from earth to make thy ••unerall Tapers: Or I'le make Torches of the vniuerse In stead of Comets; flaming Countries, Cities Shall be thy cer••moniall Tapers: Or if not this; I'le ransack Christendome, Kings Daughters I'le embowell for a Sacrifice, Their fat with vestall fire will I refine, And offer virg••••s ware vnto thy shrine. Start back bright Phaebus, let thy firie Steedes Keepe Holiday for Selymus. tell thy host Proud Neptune now expects anothers deluge, That all the earth may weepe for Selymus. What doe you smile you Heauens? are ye conscious, And guilty of this execrable treason? What dare the fields to laugh when I doe mourne? I'le dye your motly colour'd weedes in scarlet, And cloath the world in black destruction. Nemesis, I'le naile thee to my greedy sword, Destruction shall serue vnder me a Prentiship. Courage braue Sel••xie, with thy Princely boat Through Styx euen all mortality shall float; I'le leauie Souldiers through the Vniuerse, With which thou shalt beguirt Elizeum; Thus barren Nature shall repent thy fall, Grieuing that shee did not the euent fore-stall; Death I will hate thee: the world shall weare Thy sable liuerie embroydered with feare: Thy Trophies euery where the world shall gaze on: Thy Armes in sable and in gules I blazon.

Sould.

My Lord this Crowne ent••eates you leaue off these Ground-creeping meditations, and to thinke

Of Majestie, wherefore we inuest your browe With this rich robe of glory, and doe vowe To it our due alleageance: thus you shall Mount vp aloft aboue your Fathers fall.

Solym.

Thus our deare Father, those bright robes of state, For which so lately thou hast sweat in blood, Thou wearest vpon my shoulders in thy stead: Thus are we crown'd, and thus our labours bee, Made gainefull vnto thine, though not to thee.

Sould.

Liue then, and raigne most mighty Emperour, Whilst that our care and watchfull prou••dence, Shall fence thy safety, and keepe Sentinell Ouer thy sacred person, were black treasons, Hatcht in the Center of the darkest earth, The massie element should be prospectiue For all our piercing eyes; should Pluto send His black Apparator to summon thee To appeare before him, by that Mahomet We would confront him boldly, and excuse Thy absence vnto Pluto, by our presence; Death we'le disarme thee, if thou dar'starrest Thy fury on our Solyman, or we'le bale his person With our imprisonment. By our death thou shalt liue; our Citie walls May with warlike ruine be battered, But our alleageance, that European Bull, Shall neuer push from vs, with his golden hornes; Nor shall his guilded showers quench our loues: No golden Enginer shall vndermine The Castles of our faith, nor blow them vp VVith blasts of hop'd preferment, were thy walls▪ But paper, were they made of brittle glasse, Our faiths should make them marble, and as firme As Admant: not walls, but subiects loue, Doe to a Prince the strongest Castle proue. Behold great Prince alleageance mixt with loue Lock'd in our breasts: thou art the liuing key To shut, and to vnlock them at thy pleasure: No golden pick-lock shall e're s••rue it selfe

Into these faithfull locks, whose onely springs Can be no other then our owne heart strings, Our greedy swords which erst imbru'd in blood, Did seeme to blush at their owne Masters acts, And vpbraid vs with our bloody facts Though peace hath now cond••mn'd to pleasing rust, Yet at thy beck we'le sheath them in the breast Of daring Christians, thus in warre we'le fight For thee, whil'st thou dost striue for victory: Here to describe such Princely vertues, which Should more adorne thy Crowne then Orient pearles, Were but to shew a glasse, and to commend Thy selfe vnto thy selfe. Be gracious, Magnificent, couragious, or milde, Or more compendiously, be more thy selfe, Raigne then, and Mahomet grant that thou may'st passe Nestor in yeares, as much as now thou dost In wisedome and in valour; Herauld proclaime To the world his title, and let swift-winged Fame Second thy trumpet.

Her.

Long liue Solymon, &c.

Solym.

We thanke you friendly Actors of our blisse, Our patience hath at length tired out the gods; Our Empire hath beene rackt enough with treasons, And black seditions, as if no Christians Were left to conquer, wee yeeld our Turkish blades Against our selues, imbowelling the State With bloudy discord, by our strength we fall A scorne to Christians, with our hands we shed That bloud which might haue conqu••red Christendome; Thus while we hate our selues we loue our enemies, And heale them with our sores, whil'st we lye weltring ••n bloudy peace: the dy of the publique safety Hath beene already cast by th'hand of warre, Treasons haue made a blot, which may prouoke The enemie to enter, and beare our men To darke Auernus, Enuie might haue blusht, Though alwayes pale at all our projects: now This bloudy deluge is quite past, returne Sweet Peace with th'Oliue branch, enough of warres,

'Tis thou must powre oyle into our scarres. Fly hence Hereditary hate, discords dead, Let not succeeding omnities and hatred liue. Let none presume to couer p••iuate sores With publique ruines, nor let black discord Make an Anatomie of our too leane Empire, let it w•••• sat againe; when peace Hath knit her knots, then shall the wanton sounds Of Bells giue place to thundring Bo••bardes, And blood wash out the smoothing oyle of Peace, Euery Souldier I'le ordaine a Priest To ring a fatall knell to Christians, And euery minute vnto earths wide wombe, Shall sacrifice a Chrisitians Hecatombe: Then shall we make a league with Aeolus, The windes shall striue to further our proceedings, Then will we loade the Seas, and fetter Neptune With chaines that hold our Anchors; he shall quake Lest he to Pa•• resigne his watry Empire, And three fork'd-mace vnto my awfull Scepter; The Whales and Dolphins shall amazed stand, That they shall yeeld their place to Beares and Lyon••, Sylla shall howle for feare when she shall see The Sea become a Forrest, and her selfe Mountanie, then let Syrens quake For feare of Satyres, then let the Christians thinke, Not that our Nauie, but the Country it selfe Is come to moue them from the growing earth; Comets, fiery swords shall be my Heraulds, Threatning to th'world suddaine combustion: Let our armes be steely bowes, our arrowes Thunderbolts, and in stead of warlike Drumme••, Thunder shall proclaime black destruction; Vulcan I'le tax thee, exercise thy Forge, Prepare to me for all the world a scourge, The Fates to me their powers shall resig••e, Which with this hand will rend the strongest twine Of humane breath, first for the I'le of Rhodes Destruction there shall keepe his mo••rnf••ll Stage:

Th'inhabitants shall act a bloody Tragedy, And personate themselues; Then for Nayos Ile Death there shall keepe her Court, then I will make Vienna all a Shambles; yea gaping Famine Euer deuouring, alwayes wanting foode, Shall gnaw their bowels, and shall leane them nothing Besides themselues to feede on; their dead corpes Shall be entombed in their neighbours bellies. There euery one shall be a li••ing Sepulcher, An vnhallowed Churchyard; famine shall feede it selfe, Then shall they enuie beasts, and wish to be Our Iades, our Mules, Matrons shall striue to bring Into the hatefull light abortiue Brats; The Infants shall returne, and the leane wombe Shall be vnto the Babes a suddaine tombe. Then shall they hoard carcasses, and striue Onely to be rich in Funerals; I'de reioyce To see them stand like Screech-Owles, gaping when Their Parents should expire, and bequeath To hell their wretched soules, to them their death.

All.

Long liue great Solymon our noble Emperour.

Soly.

All this, and more then this I'le doe, when peace Hath glutted our new greedy appetites, VVhen it hath fill'd the veines of the Empire full With vigour, then lest too much blood should cause Armies of vices, not of men to kill vs, And strength breed weaknesse in our too great Empire, Then, then, and onely then we shall thinke good, With warre to let the body politick blood, Meane time we'le thinke on our Fathers Funerall: Oh, I could be an holy Epicure, In teares, and pleasing sighes, Oh I could now Refresh my selfe with sorrow, I could emblame Thy corpes with holy groanes from putrifaction: Oh, I could powder vp thy thirsty corpes With brinish teares, and wipe them off with kisses, And that I might more freely speake my griefe, These eyes should be still silent Orators, Till blindnesse shut them vp were I a woman:

But I am Solyman, Emperour, the Turke, Blood shall be my teares, I'le thinke thee slaine Amongst the Christians, and translate my griefe To fury, euery member of my body Shall execute the office of a weeping sonne. Thus in my teares an Argus will I bee, My head, heart, hands, and all shall weepe •• or thee. Oh that the cruell Fates were halfe so milde As to driue streames of teares from forth the springs, Great sorrowes haue no leasure to complaine, Least ills vent forth, great griefes within remaine: See Selymus, sometimes a fore-string instrument Feeding his Souldiers w••th sweet Harmony, Doth now tune nought to vs but Lacrymy, Could n' Aesculapius be found to tune His disagreeing elements treasons crackt The string which else an headach would vntune. Euery disease is a ragged fort To weare these strings asunder, treason did lend Death, which both age, and sicknesse did intend; What then remaines, but that his Funerall rites With our Grandfather, Vncles be solemnized, That so black discord may be with them buried: But noble Selymus what Tombe shall I prepare For thy memoriall? shall a heauy stone Presse thy innocent ashes? Shall I confine Thy wandring ghost in some high marble prison? Or shall I hither fetch the flying I ••mbe Of proud Mausolus the rich Carian King? No; Religion shall cloake no such iniurie, No hired Rhethorick shall adorne thy coarse, No pratling stone shall trumpet forth thy praise, The world's thy tombe, thy Epitaph I'le ca••ue In Funerals, destruction is the booke In which we'le write thy annalls, blood's the Inke, Our sword the Pen; A Tragedy I intend, Which with a Plangity, no Plaudity shall end.

FINIS.