Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T10: france, french, england, king, lord, english, edward, talbot, peace, lords.
Fair Lords of England, Lewis salutes you all As friends, and firm well-willers of his weal, At whose request, from plenty flowing France, Crossing the Ocean with a Southern gale, He is in person come at your commands, To undertake and gratify withal, The fullness of your favours proffered him. But world's brave men, omitting promises, Till time be minister of more amends, I must acquaint you with our fortune's course. The heavens dewing favours on my head, Have in their conduct safe with victory, Brought me along your well manured bounds, With small repulse, and little cross of chance, Your City Rochester, with great applause, By some divine instinct laid arms aside: And from the hollow holes of Thamesis, Echo apace replied, Vive la Roy. From thence, along the wanton rolling glade To Troynovant, your fair Metropolis, With luck came Lewis, to show his troops of France, Waving our Ensigns with the dallying winds, The fearful object of fell frowning war; Where after some assault, and small defence, Heavens may I say, and not my warlike troop, Tempered their hearts to take a friendly foe Within the compass of their high built walls, Giving me title, as it seemed they wish. Thus fortune (Lords) acts to your forwardness, Means of content, in lieu of former grief: And may I live but to requite you all, World's wish were mine, in dying noted yours. Welcome the balm that closeth up our wounds, The sovereign medicine for our quick recure, The anchor of our hope, the only prop, Whereon depends our lives, our lands, our weal, Without the which, as sheep without their herd, (Except a shepherd winking at the wolf) We stray, we pine, we run to thousand harms. No marvel then, though with unwonted joy, We welcome him that beateth woes away. Thanks to you all of this religious league, A holy knot of Catholic consent. I cannot name you Lordings, man by man, But like a stranger unacquainted yet, In general I promise faithful love: Lord Bigot brought me to S. Edmund's shrine, Giving me warrant of a Christian oath That this assembly came here, To swear according as your packets showed, Homage and loyal service to ourself, I need not doubt the surety of your wills, Since well I know, for many of your sakes, The towns have yielded on their own accords: Yet for a fashion, not for misbelief, My eyes must witness, and these ears must hear Your oath upon the holy Altar sworn, And after march, to end our comings cause. That we intent no other than good truth, All that are present of this holy league, For confirmation of our better trust, In presence of his Highness, swear with me, The sequel that myself shall utter here. I Thomas Plantagenet, Earl of Salisbury, swear upon the Altar, and by the holy army of Saints, homage and allegiance to the right Christian Prince Lewis of France, as true and rightful King to England, Cornwall, & Wales, and to their territories: in the defence whereof, I upon the holy Altar swear all forwardness. All the Eng. Lo. swear. As the noble Earl hath sworn, so swear we all.
seed 43: T8 · seed 44: T8 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Faire Lords of England, Lewis ſalutes you all As friends, and firme wel-willers of his weale, At whoſe requeſt, from plentie flowing France, Croſſing the Ocean with a Southerne gale, He is in perſon come at your commands, To vndertake and gratifie withall, The fulneſſe of your fauours profferd him. But worlds braue men, omitting promiſes, Till time be miniſter of more amends, I muſt acquaint you with our fortunes courſe. The heauens dewing fauours on my head, Haue in their conduct ſafe with victory, Brought me along your well manured bounds, With ſmall repulſe, and little croſſe of chance, Your Citie Rocheſter, with great applauſe, By ſome diuine inſtinct laid armes aſide: And from the hollow holes of Thameſis, Eccho apace repli'd, Viue la Roy. From thence, along the wanton rowling glade To Troynouant, your faire Metropolis, With lucke came Lewis, to ſhew his troupes of France, Wauing our Enſignes with the dallying winds, The fearefull obiect of fell frowning warre; Where after ſome aſſault, and ſmall defence, Heauens may I ſay, and not my warlike troupe, Temperd their hearts to take a friendly foe Within the compaſſe of their high built wals, Giuing me title, as it ſeemd they wiſh. Thus fortune (Lords) acts to your forwardneſſe, Meanes of content, in lieu of former griefe: And may I liue but to requite you all, Worlds wiſh were mine, in dying noted yours. Welcom the balme that cloſeth vp our wounds, The ſoueraigne medcine for our quicke recure, The anchor of our hope, the onely prop, Whereon depends our liues, our lands, our weale, Without the which, as ſheepe without their heird, (Except a ſhepheard winking at the wolfe) We ſtray, we pine, we run to thouſand harmes. No maruell then, though with vnwonted ioy, We welcome him that beateth woes away. Thanks to you all of this religious league, A holy knot of Catholike conſent. I cannot name you Lordings, man by man, But like a ſtranger vnacquainted yet, In generall I promiſe faithfull loue: Lord Bigot brought me to S. Edmunds ſhrine, Giuing me warrant of a Chriſtian oath That this aſſembly came To ſweare according as your pckets ſhow'd, Homage and loyall ſeruice to our ſelfe, I need not doubt the ſuretie of your wils, Since well I know, for many of your ſakes, The townes haue yeelded on their own accords: Yet for a faſhion, not for misbeleefe, My eyes muſt witneſſe, and theſe eares muſt heare Your oath vpon the holy Altar ſworne, And after march, to end our commings cauſe. That we intend no other than good truth, All that are preſent of this holy league, For confirmation of our better truſt, In preſence of his Highneſſe, ſweare with me, The ſequel that my ſelfe ſhall vtter here. I Thomas Plantaginet, Earle of Salisburie, ſweare vpon the Altar, and by the holy army of Saints, homage and allegeance to the right Chriſtian Prince Lewis of France, as true and rightfull King to England, Cornewall, & Wales, and to their territories: in the defence whereof, I vpon the holy Altar ſweare all forwardneſſe. All the Eng. Lo. ſweare. As the noble Earle hath ſworne, ſo ſweare we all.