 | The raging Tvrke, or Baiazet the second |  |
Scena Secunda.
After some clamors of applause Enter Chersogles, and Achmetes at seuerall doores.Achmet.
And is Baiazet arriu'd?
Chers.
So fame reports
Yet how he doth digest Corcutus Raigne,
That euerie Bird sings not; but sure with paine.
A Turkish Baiazet, and suffer wrong,
May for a time conceale his griefe, not long.
Eagles soare high, and scorne that shorter Plumes
Should reach the cloudes, which their proud wings can touch,
Corcutus must not raigne, to keepe his fathers right
Due to his father, nor will he if he might,
Eenter Isaack.
Hee's learned, therefore iust, Arts not allow
To were a Crowne due to anothers brow.
Isa.
Dar'st thou oppose his greatnesse? is not Greece
Already wrackt enough? haue thy provd Towers
Reard vp their loftie spires? which steep'd in blood,
Threw a reflex of red backe to the clouds,
And blush't at their owne ruines, are thy crude wounds
Already stopt, and is that day forgot,
In which the Turkish Mavors Ottoman,
Wielded a sword of death within thy Walles?
Charon grew weary with hurrying soules to hell,
When threescore thousand Greekes in one day fell.
Chers.
We know their force, and sad experience sayes,
Moue not againe, Greece welters still in blood
And euery crackling thunder of the heauens
Speakes the shrill eccho of the Turkish drummes,
Then are we drawne by you, so let it bee,
About these great affaires as you decree.
This phrase becomes the Greekes, submissiue states
Must bend, the Conqueror must rule the fates.
Chers.
And such are you, our vanquisht hearts must bend,
But bad beginnings haue a fatall end,
Me thinkes I see great Baiazet in armes,
Spreading his fearefull Ensignes in the ayre,
Like some prodigious Comet, wee may feare
Speedy revenge vnlesse some quicke aduise
Worke a prevention of his future hate,
Tis he must sway the Scepter, or wee shall heare
A dreadfull defiance ratled in our eare,
Hees strong in friends, and power, vve must descend,
To our iust dutie, or our latest end.
Achm.
Renowned Vice-roy, thy perswading thoughts
Haue predeuin'd most truely these effects,
And we applaud thy Counsell, let vs three
Ioyne our best strength, that these ensuing jarres
May be compos'd without the stroke of Warres:
Corcute is wise, and milde, and being so,
He hates the rumour of a publike foe.
Chers.
Nobly resolu'd (Greece sings) if the event,
Proue but so happy, as honest the intent.
But stand aside, Baiazet is come.
Enter Baiazet.
Baia.
Am I not Emperor? hee that breaths a no,
Damnes in that negative sillable his soule,
Durst any god gain-say it, he should feele
The strength of fiercest Gyants in mine armes,
Mine angers at the highest, and I could shake
The firme foundation of the earthly Globe:
Could I but graspe the Poles in these two handes,
I'de plucke the world asunder; droppe thou bright Sunne,
From thy transparant Spheare, thy course is done,
Great Baiazet is wrong'd, nor shall thine eye
Be witnesse to my hatefull misery.
Madnesse and anger makes my tongue betray,
The Chaos of my thoughts: vnder this brest,
An heape of indigested cares are prest.
What is it that I doubt? through every joynt
That courses through my veines devines no good.
shouts of ioy within.
Ha, shovts of ioy, at dead mens obsequies?
I'me in a maze of woes, what thou wilt throw
On me, Ioue, let it come, ile stand thy blow.
Chers.
Live happy Baiazet.
Baia.
Happy in my feare,
That word sounds sweet in my distracted eare.
Happy in what?
Ach.
In thy friends,
He turnes aside to them.
That grieve to see thy wrongs.
Ba.
My wrongs,
There sticks the string my thoughts did harpe vpon;
But who hath wrong'd me in this high content?
The fates doe sometime frowne, yet blesse th'event,
And sequell of our woes, it cannot be,
I should be thwarted in my jollity.
But if I can vnfold it—for the more,
I know them not the greater is my sore.
Chers.
In that read all thy woes, take there a briefe,
He giues him a paper
Contract of all thine ills, sad lines of griefe.
Baia.
How's this? my yongest sonne aduanced to my seate.
Corcutus Imperator, sure I dreame:
These are but empty apparitions
Fain'd by the god of sleepe to vexe my soule,
Were they not so—ere this blacke night
Had throwne her sable mantle ore the heauens
To hide me from my shame; but is it so?
I doe but flatter vp my selfe, they are true
And reall griefes, my Passion sayes they are,
Isaack, Achmetes, are they not?
Ach.
Too true
Great Baiazet:
Baia.
Corentus Imperator,
reades againe
Would I had seene thy name writ in the booke
Of darke damnation, rather then these lines.
Crackt not mine eye-strings when I viewed this text?
See how each letter spreads abroad in pompe,
As if they scorn'd my teares, how I could dwell
On these two words, Corcutus Imperator.
Hither repaire, the watchfull paper wormes
That scan old recordes ouer to a line:
Here in two wordes imprinted shall you see,
The modell of a dolefull historie;
Right shouldered ovt by wrong, nor can you faine,
A crime, which these two words doe not containe,
But now I rayle, not grieve. O nimble ayre,
Let my plaints vanish as they spoken are,
Off with this womanish mildnesse, I will finde
A shorter tricke then this to ease my mind,
Pluto beware, I come to raigne in hell,
about to kill himselfe.
Fates bid me rule, and birth-right to excell.
Chers.
Stay Baiazet, that arme can breake a path
Vnto thy earthly Monarch, ere thou come
To blesse the bankes of sweete Elysium,
With thy wisht presence: Mahomet forefend
That thou should'st seale a Kingdome to thy sonne,
By this vntimely death, Corcutus raignes,
But at thy better pleasure; when he shall heare
Thou art arrived, then hee'l twixt ioy and griefe,
Start from his throne, and nimbly runne to meete,
Thy pompe, and throw his Scepter at thy feete:
If hee but slacke that duty here are by,
Achmetes strong and bolde, Isaacke and I.
Devoted to your service, yet the world stands
On wavering doubts, ready to clappe their hands.
Baia.
My desires are crown'd,
And from the gate of Limbo, where I sate,
I feele my spirits knocke against the heavens.
Achmetes? In that name I heare an ease
Of all my griefes pronounced, he shall suffice
To banish vsurpation from my throne,
Did furyes guard it round, hee's able well
To reach my Kingdomes from the gripes of hell.
Ach.
My sword, and life, both which are vow'd to thee,
Are still at thy command: walke but along,
Corcutus shall resigne, thou haue no wrong.
Exeunt Baiazet, Cherseogles, and Achmetes, Mauent Isaack, and Mustapha.
| The raging Tvrke, or Baiazet the second | |