Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T50: sea, honour, general, soldiers, men, ship, fight, soldier, king, vittori.
The barks are battered sore, the galleys galled with shot, The hulks are hit, and every man must stand unto his lot. The powder sends his smoke into the cruddy skies, The smoulder stops our nose with stench, the fume offends our eyes. The pots of lime unsteakt, from highest top are cast, The parched pease are not for got to make them slip as fast. The wild fire works are wrought and cast in foeman's face, The grappling hooks are stretched forth, the pikes are pushed a pace. The halberd hew on head, the brown bills bruise the bones, The harquebus doth spit his spite, with pretty piercing stones. The drums cry dub a dub, the braying trumpets blow, The whistling fifes are seldom herd, these sounds do drown them so. The voice of warlike wights, to comfort them that faint, The piteous plaints of golden hearts, which were with fears attaint. The groaning of such ghosts as gasped now for breath, The prayers of the better sort, prepared unto death. And to be short, each grief which on the earth may grow, Was each and easy to be found, upon these floods to flow. If any sight on earth, may unto hell resemble, Then sure this was a hellish sight, it makes me yet to tremble: And in this bloody fight, when halfe the day was spent, It pleazed God to help his flock, which thus in pound was penned. The general of Spain, 'gan galled that galley sore, Where in my Prely Bassa was, and grieved it more and more: Upon that other side, with force of sword and flame, The good Venetian General did charge upon the same. At leength they came aboard, and in his raging pride, Struck of this Turkish captains head, which blasphemd as it died: O how I feel the blood now trickle in my breast, To think what joy then pierced my heart, and how I thought me blest. To see that cruel Turk which held me as his slave, By happy hand of Christians, his payment thus to have: His head from shoulders cut, upon a Pike did stand, The which Don Iohn of Austrye, held in his triumphant hand. The boldest Bassa then, that did in life remain, 'Gan tremble at the sight hereof, for privy grief and pain. Thus when these fierce had fought, from morning until night, Christ gave his flock the victory, and put his foes to flight: And of the Turkish train, were eight score Galleys ta'en, Fifteen sunk, five and twenty burnt, & brought unto their bane, Of Christians set at large were fourteen thousand souls, Turks twenty thousand registered in Belzebub his rolls. Thus have you now my Lords, the sum of all their fight, And trust it all for true I tell, for I was still in sight: But when the Seas were calm, and skies began to clear, When foes were all or dead or fled, and victors did appear.
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 barkes are battered ſore, the gallies gald with ſhot, The hulks are hit, and euery man muſt ſtand vnto his lot. The powder ſendes his ſmoke into the cruddy ſkies, The ſmoulder ſtops our noſe with ſtench, the fume offends our eies. The pots of lime vnſteakt, from higheſt top are caſt, The parched peaſe are not for got to make them ſlip as faſt. The wilde fire works are wrought and caſt in foemens face, The grappling hooks are ſtreched foorth, ye pikes are puſht a pace. The halbert hewe on hed, the browne billes bruſe the bones, The harquebuſh doth ſpit his ſpight, with prety perſing ſtones. The drummes crie dub a dub, the braying trumpets blow, The whiſtling fifes are ſeldom herd, theſe ſounds do drowne thē ſo. The voyce of warlike wights, to comfort them that faynt, The pitious plaints of golden harts, which were with feares attaint. The groning of ſuch ghoſts as gaſped nowe for breath, The praiers of the better ſort, prepared vnto death. And to be ſhort, eache griefe which on the earth maye growe, Was eath and eaſie to be found, vpon theſe floudes to flowe. If any ſight on earth, maye vnto hell reſemble, Then ſure this was a helliſhe ſighte, it makes me yet to tremble: And in this bloudie fight, when halfe the daye was ſpent, It pleazed God to helpe his flocke, which thus in poūd was pent. The generall of Spayne, gan gald that galley ſore, Where in my Prely Baſſa was, and grieude it more and more: Vpon that other ſide, with force of ſworde and flame, The good Venetian Generall dyd charge vpon the ſame. At leength they came aboorde, and in his raging pride, Stroke of this Turkiſh captains head, which blaſphemd as it dide: Oh howe I féele the bloud now trickle in my breſt, To thinke what ioye then pierſt my heart, and how I thought me bleſt. To ſée that cruell Turke which held me as his ſlaue, By happie hand of Chriſtians, his paiment thus to haue: His head from ſhoulders cut, vpon a Pike dyd ſtand, The which Don Iohn of Auſtrye, helde in his triumphant hand. The boldeſt Baſſa then, that dyd in life remaine, Gan tremble at the ſight hereof, for priuy griefe and paine. Thus when theſe fierce had fought, from morning vntyl night, Chriſt gaue his flocke the victory, and put his foes to flight: And of the Turkiſhe traine, were eyght ſcore Galleys tane, Fiftéene ſunke, fiue and twenty burnt, & brought vnto their bane, Of Chriſtians ſet at large were fouretéene thouſand ſoules, Turkes twentie thouſand regiſtred in Belzebub his rolles. Thus haue you nowe my Lordes, the ſumme of all their fight, And truſt it all for true I tell, for I was ſtyll in ſight: But when the Seas were calme, and ſkies began to cleare, When foes were all or dead or fled, and victors dyd appeare.