A Larum for London, or The Siege of Antwerp · chunk 10 of 25
Anonymous · published 1602 · first performed or written 1599 [c.1594-1600] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T50 Fleets, armies and generals: war by sea · 445 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T50: sea, honour, general, soldiers, men, ship, fight, soldier, king, vittori.
I prithee Soldier, lean thy bitter words, And help to fight for Antwerp's liberty. You have another groat to give me then, I know your liberal minds will scorn t'impose, The sweat of bloody danger on the brow Of any man, but you'll reward him for it: He shall at least (when he hath lost his limbs) Be sent for harbour to a spittle-house. How say ye, shall he not? Good reason then, But we should venture; yes, to laugh at you, Whilst we behold the Spaniard cut your throats: An object base mechanic set awork; A sweaty Cobbler, whose best industry, Is but to clout a Shoe, shall have his fee; But let a Soldier, that hath spent his blood, Is lamed, diseased, or any way distressed, Appeal for succour, than you look a sconce As if you knew him not; respecting more An Ostler, or some drudge that rakes your kennels, Than one that fighteth for the common wealth. It is thy country that doth bind thee to it, Not any imposition we exact. Binds me my country with no greater bonds, Than for a groat to fight? then for a groat, To be enfeebled, or to lose a limb? Poor groatsworth of effection; Well, I'll learn To pay my debt and to measure my desert According to the rate: a groat I had, And so much as a groat amounts unto you, My sword shall pay ye in exchange of blows. citizens how now? Oh Monsieur champaign, We are undone for want of discipline, The Spaniards hurry into every street, What shall we do for safeguard of our lives? What shall ye do? stand every man at's door, And take in's hand a Holbert or brown bill, And study to defend him as he may. I hear them coming, let us shift away. marquess d' Hawrie stay, thou canst not scape. And stay Count Egmont: Danila's conquering sword, Pursues thy life, therefore abide and yield it. Insatiate Alva, that like sunrise ground, Never sufficed with sweetest showers that fall, But with a thousand mouths gapes still for more. So thy desire of blood near satisfied, With the rich tribute of so many lives, Whose guiltless blood hath dyed poor Belgius' checks, And changed her like a drunken Bacchanal, Still with a thousand quenchless appetites, Dost thirst for more, as if that epithet Were the sole object of thy hearts best hopes Know Tyrant, marquess Hawrie flies thee not, As fearing all the uttermost thou canst, But the oppression of unequal power, False treason, that betrayed our lives to thee, And the sharp scourge, that fond security, Hath justly thrown on Antwerp's wilfulness
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)
I Soldier, leane thy bitter words, And helpe to fight for Atwerpes libertie. You haue another groate to giue me then, I know your liberall mindes will scorne t'impose, The sweat of bloudie daunger on the brow Of any man, but you'l reward him for it: He shall atleast (when he hath lost his limmes) Be sent for harbour to a spittle-house. How say yee, shall he not? Good reason then, But we should venture; yes, to laugh at you, Whilst we beholde the Spaniard cut your throates: An obiect base set aworke; A swettie Cobler, whose best industrie, Is but to cloute a Shoe, shall haue his fee; But let a Soldier, that hath spent his bloud, Is lame'd, , or any way distrest, Appeale for sucour, then you looke a sconce As if you knew him not; respecting more An Ostler, or some drudge that rakes your kennels, Than one that fighteth for the common wealth. It is thy countrie that doth binde thee to it, Not any imposition we exacte. Bindes me my country with no greater bondes, Than for a groate to fight then for a groate, To be infeebled, or to loose a limme? Poore groates-worth of effection; Well, Ile learne To pay my debt and to measure my desert According to the rate: a groate I had, And so much as a groate amounts vnto you, My swoord shall pay ye in exchange of blowes. Cittizens how now? Oh Monsieur Champaigne, We are vndone for want of discipline, The Spaniards hurrie into euerie streete, What shall we doe for safeguard of our liues? What shall yee doe? stand euery man at's doore, And take in's hand a Holbert or browne bill, And studie to defend him as he may. I heare them comming, let vs shift away. Marques d' Hauurie stay, thou canst not scape. And stay Count Egmont: Danilaes conquering sword, Pursues thy life, therfore abide and yeeld it. Insatiate Alua, that like Sun-rie ground, Neuer suffis'd with sweetest shewers that fall, But with a thousand mouthes gapes still for more. So thy desire of bloud nere satisfied, With the rich tribute of so many liues, Whose guiltles bloud hath dyed poore Belgius checkes, And chang'd her like a drunken Bacchanall, Still with a thousand quenchles appees, Dost thirst for more, as if that epithite Were the sole obiect of thy hearts best hope Know Tyrant, Marques Hauurie flyes thee not, As fearing all the vttermost thou canst, But the oppression of vnequall power, False treason, that betrayed our liues to thee, And the sharpe scourge, that fond securitie, Hath iustlie throwne on Atwerpes wilfulnes