The Grand Seignior's speech to the Ottoman forces at Belgrade who are now at wars with the Christians, 1683 This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription B23658 of text R27159 in the English Short Title Catalog. Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 5KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 2 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 B23658 Wing G1512 ocm 09677913

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 Early English books online text creation partnership. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. B23658) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 204459) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1332:2) The Grand Seignior's speech to the Ottoman forces at Belgrade who are now at wars with the Christians, 1683 1 sheet. Printed for John Smith, London : 1683. In verse. Reproduction of original in the Huntington Library.

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 eng Austro-Turkish War, 1683-1699 -- Poetry. eebo The Grand Seignior's speech to the Ottoman forces at Belgrade who are now at wars with the Christians, 1683 n/a 1683 2 669 1 0 0 0 0 0 14.95 C The rate of 14.95 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the C category of texts with between 10 and 35 defects per 10,000 words. 2014-03 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2014-09 Sampled and proofread 2014-09 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2015-03 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
THE Grand Seigniors SPEECH TO THE Ottoman Forces at Belgrade , who are now at Wars with the CHRISTIANS , 1683.
MY Janyzary-Slaves , your Pow'r alone I need not question to secure my Throne . Nor can I doubt a Force so often try'd , Which Christian Fields , with Christian Blood has dy'd : Go on then boldly to dispose the Fates , Of crazy Europe's ill supported States , Untill the trembling Princes of the West Bow to that Hand , which has subdu'd the East : Let the deluded World be taught by you , What to our Prophet and our Arms is due . So Fight , as may our Enemies perswade , A Pow'r , not humane does their States Invade . Instruct the Christians in each Loss to read How we of old , against Them did succeed . In ev'ry Breach and Batt'ry , still relate , The Story of our Honour , and their Fate . In springing Moynes , or taking Bastions , tell , Thus Candy , thus defenceless Rhodes once fell . Recounting these , the better to inflame Your Courage , no less than provoke their shame . By our great Prophet , and his Law , I vow ( No stronger Ties our Turkish Faith does know ) That petty Trifle call'd the Caesar of the West , Emp'rour in Name , in Truth , but Fortunes Jest . Mock't with th' Imperial Scepter , and a Crown , Hector'd by Laws , by ev'ry Prince run down : No longer shall be miserably Great , A Purple Captive , and a Slave of State . Not to the Empires Younger Brothers sue , While tedious Diets slow Debates pursue . These Mischeifs now no longer shall depend , His Vassalage in pitty ought to end . His Empire henceforth shall become my Care , Th' Electors Lots my Bassa's , be your Share . Already for our Conquests to make way , Our Foes divided , on each other Prey ; Revolted Teckley with his Friends does work , And Christians joyn gainst Christians for the Turk● Their Diets Factions promise fair , that we The like , may in Confed'rate Armies see . What hope appears , that they who can't Unite In peaceful Councils , should agree in Fight ? With how great Ease may then our Swords divide , That Knot , themselves already have unty'd ? My only Grief it is alass ! to see Our Foes will cost too cheap a Victory ! Mistake not then , that you for Fight prepare , You go to Triumph , ev'n without a War . Hast then , away , to all your Charges flie , With Honour Conquer , or with Honour Die .
The Grand Visiers Answer . Mighty Sultan , Whose Will to Understand , Is to Obey ; whose Words all claim Command : Whose Pow'rful Nod , or Sign , without the Noise Of Words , to us sufficient are for Laws , Which , in like Silence , each slave executes , As if he were the humblest of your Mutes . Such is your Pow'r ; you fail not to Inspire Your Vassals to perform , what you Require : Your Army now no other strife does know , But who shou'd greatest Sense of Duty show . Your Just Resolves approving with one Voice , They speak their glad Obedience in Applause ; Which as an hopeful Omen does presage , They all as one Man , will your Foes engage , While they represent to their minds in hast The glorious Figures of Successes past . Then paint those Scenes to Christian Eyes as plain , As they had former Battels fought again , Till fired with this Contemplative Review , Our Old Conquests , exceeded be by New .
FINIS .

LONDON , Printed for John Smith . 1683.