Renaissance Drama — Topics · seed 42

Sicily and Naples, or The Fatal Union · chunk 1 of 38

Harding, Samuel · published 1640 · first performed or written 1640 (Annals)
not in BritDrama
unassigned nearest T50 Fleets, armies and generals: war by sea · 453 words

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Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T50: sea, honour, general, soldiers, men, ship, fight, soldier, king, vittori.

THere, take your orders, and dispatch; Your known faiths will not let me doubt th'observance Of the least circumstance. Yet give me leave (most noble General To ask the reason, since his Highness lest A free dispose at his departure, why You should use so much severity in your commands? Not a man enter the city in forfeiture of his life? their's somewhat hard conditions; I've entered a Kingdom, and helped to win it too, on far easier terms; this o'th' sudden, and so unexpected too may meet with a harsh construction. For mine own part, I've been so long absent, Especially being a poor servant to the state too, I dare conclude I'm lost to all their memories; Nor do I love the Camp so ill, to part with it To win upon their faiths; urge a tedious catalogue Of my dead ancestors, and then search records To show I was their countryman; all this For a cold welcome, or an annual pension; To show my scores of wounds, that tally up So many months pay behind hand: which After seven years' misery in an hospital, Shall be both wiped off together: yet all Are not of my humour. What though your dull fat Senators, those land-Porpices That skip, and frisk i'th' storm they ne'er are hurt with, Those heavy lubbers, leapt in sweaty furs, battening on sleep and ease, lie snorting out The peace poor Soldiers purchase, And not so much as dream of toil, or danger, Sleight what they are ignorant of: yet you (my Lord) May know, if cold lazy recompenses injure Our high deserts such usage kills outright: True Contareno, that is their intent. 'Las we bring no diseases home with us, unless valour be one; no meager troops of thin starvelings, that they should fear a famine from our commerce, we have fed high, though somewhat irreverently: nor return we in our old skins, blue coats, thrummed caps, that harbour so much vermin, they might fear we'd scatter one of Egypt's plagues among them; and make 'em all lousy. Enjoy the freedom of your speech; yet know That they are ignorant of these in junctions, And for a testimony of their loves Unto your fair deservings, are all ready To meet their country's patriots, (so they term you) After their ancient custom, with procession; Show us an enemy then, or danger that is real, And not the birth of fear, and we'll return: Nay, you may stay at home too: At home? 'Tis so: Our sons of peace have caught a surfeit, & would be physicked for't. ha! do they mutiny? do the fierce rams advance their horns, to batter down the walls that kept them safe?
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Details

Metadata, position in the edition, topic in the other seeds
PlaySicily and Naples, or The Fatal Union
AuthorHarding, Samuel
Publication year (edition)1640
First performance / composition (Annals)1640
Genre (British Drama)not in BritDrama
Play typeUniversity/Inns of Court;Closet/Unacted;Nonprofessional
Edition / TCP / DEEPedition 1153 · TCP A02629 · DEEP 986
Edition roleRepresentative edition — used in the analysis
Positionnodes 0–45 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 1 of 38 in this edition
Length453 words · 600 tokens
Topic (seed 42)unassigned by HDBSCAN · nearest topic T50 — Fleets, armies and generals: war by sea and land at 0.774
Other seedsseed 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)
THere, take your orders, and diſpatch; Your known faiths will not let me doubt th'obſervance Of the leaſt circumſtance. Yet give me leave (moſt noble Generall To aske the reaſon, ſince his Highneſſe leſt A free diſpoſe at his departure, why You ſhould uſe ſo much ſeverity in your commands? Not a man enter the citty in forfeiture of his life? their's ſomewhat hard conditions; I've enter'd a Kingdome, and help't to winne it too, on farre eaſier termes; this o'th ſudden, and ſo unexpected too may meete with a harſh conſtruction. For mine owne part, I've bin ſo long abſent, Eſpecially being a poore ſervant to the ſtate too, I dare conclude I'me loſt to all their memories; Nor do I love the Campe ſo ill, to part with it To win upon their faiths; urge a tedious catalogue Of my dead anceſtours, and then ſearch records To ſhew I was their country-man; all this For a cold welcome, or an annuall penſion; To ſhew my ſcores of wounds, that tally up So many months pay behind hand: which After ſeven yeares miſery in an hoſpitall, Shall be both wip't off together: yet all Are not of my humour. What though your dull fat Senators, thoſe land-Porpices That skip, and friske i'th ſtorme they n'ere are hurt with, Thoſe heavy lubbers, lapt in ſweaty furres, Batning on ſleepe and eaſe, lie ſnorting out The peace poore Souldiers purchaſe, And not ſo much as dreame of toyle, or danger, Sleight what they are ignorant of: yet you (my Lord) May know, if cold lazy recompences injure Our high deſerts ſuch uſage kils outright: True Contareno, that is their intent. L'as we bring no diſeaſes home with us, unleſſe valour be one; no meager troopes of thinne ſtarvelings, that they ſhould feare a famine from our commerce, we have fed high, though ſomewhat irreverently: nor returne wee in our old skins, blew coats, thrum'd cappes, that harbour ſo much vermine, they might feare we'de ſcatter one of Egypts plagues among them; and make e'm all lowſie. Enjoy the freedome of your ſpeech; yet know That they are ignorant of theſe in junctions, And for a teſtimony of their loves Unto your faire deſervings, are all ready To meete their Countries patriots, (ſo they terme you) After their ancient cuſtome, with proceſſion; Shew us an enemy then, or danger that is reall, And not the birth of feare, and we'le returne: Nay, you may ſtay at home too: At home? 'Tis ſo: Our ſons of peace have caught a ſurfeit, & would be phyſick't for't. ha! doe they mutiny? doe the fierce rammes advance their hornes, to batter downe the walls that kept them ſafe?