A Larum for London, or The Siege of Antwerp · chunk 11 of 25
Anonymous · published 1602 · first performed or written 1599 [c.1594-1600] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T59 Spanish courts: war, honour and courtshi · 476 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T59: andrea, spain, portugal, tribute, horatio, king, bellimperia, prince, lord, lorenzo.
These are the sluices that have brought on us, The swelling pride and tyranny of Spain, Which Antwerp careless off, although forewarned By many bleeding instances about her, Could not; nay, would not be advised at all. Tell me but this, Alva and Danila both, What state is there, be it near so popular, Abounding in the height of fortune's gifts; And all felicities of worldly Pomp, That sees sad desolation sit in tears, Upon her neighbour Cities? wars keen edge, Hath furrowed through their entrails, let them blood, In every artery that maintaineth life, Yet will not dread her danger to be near? But warm her at their fires, sing at their sighs, reveling in her countless vanities, As a perpetual date were set thereon. Tell me I say, you that have seen all this, And as devils, Saints in the black calendar Of wretchedst woe may truly be set down, As Authors of these sad confusions? Do not you deem that state well worth the ills, That this remissness brought upon the rest? They cannot but confess so much Count Egmont. If this be granted what's your glory then? An armed man to kill an naked soul: A thousand Sickles thrust into a field, Of Summer ripened and resistless corn: A mighty tide to overrun a land; Where no defence or bank to keep it back? This is your honour, this their misery, That are not conquered, but die wilfully. War taketh hold on all advantages. What need advantage, where is no resist? So much the better, this is our discipline, Therefore submit or die. Not while I have a hand to lift my sword. Nor you Count Egmont? Alva, nor I. Egmont will with honour both live and die. Hold when I bid ye; strike ye all at me? Why stands thou then to guard an enemy? Because I will, honour incites me to it, The honour of this worthy Nobleman, And his high spirit even in the face of death. Yield thee brave Egmont, Alva doth entreat thee, In pity of thy bold adventurous youth, And hopeful Fortunes shining in thine eyes, Thou seest these slain, yet will save thy life: Thou seest me wounded to preserve thy life. I that was never pitiful before, Am forced to pity thee, what wouldst thou more? Such pity Alva, as thou showedst my Father, And Noble Horn, such thou intendest to me, Therefore proceed & never pity me. They offer at him again Strike not I charge ye: come Egmont come, Is wear that thou shalt yield; strike, spare me not, Alas thou art too faint; come, yield thee now, i'faith I will not hurt thee: So, have done, Nay, no more weapons, thou art my prisoner. And I will use thee very honourably. Alua, let foorth my life, & then thou honorst m
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)
These are the sluices that haue brought on vs, The swelling pride and tyranie of Spaine, Which Antwerpe careles off, although fore-warnde By many bleeding instances about her, Could not; nay, would not be aduis'd at all. Tell me but this, Alua and Danila both, What state is there, be it nere so populare, Abounding in the height of fortunes giftes; And all felicities of worldlie Pompe, That sees sad desolation sit in teares, Vpon her neighbour Citties? warres keene edge, Hath surrowed through their entrailes, let them blood, In euerie artre that maintaineth life, Yet will not dread her daunger to be neere? But warme her at their fiers, sing at their sighes, Reuelling in her countlesse vanities, As a perpetuall date were set thereon. Tell me I say, you that haue seene all this, And as deuils, Saints in the blacke Kallender Of wretchedst woe may truelie be set downe, As Authors of these sad confusions? Doe not you deeme that state well worth the illes, That this remissenes brought vpon the rest? They cannot but confesse so much Count Egmont. If this be graunted what's your glorie then? An armed man to kill an naked soule: A thousand Sickles thrust into a field, Of Summer ripened and resistles corne: A mightie tide to ouer-run a land; Where no defence or bancke to keepe it backe▪ This is your honor, this their miserie, That are not conquer'd, but dye wilfullie. Warre taketh hole on all aduantages. What neede aduantage, where is no resist? So much the better, this is our discipline, Therefore submit or dye. Not while I haue a hand to lift my swoord. Nor you Count Egmont? Alua, nor I. Egmont will with honour both liue and dye. Holde when I bid ye; strike yee all at mee? Why stands thou then to guard an enemie? Because I will, honor encites me to it, The honor of this worthie Noble-man, And his high spirit euen in the face of death. Yeeld thee braue Egmont, Alua doth intreate thee, In pittie of thy bolde aduenturous youth, And hopefull Fortunes shining in thine eyes, Thou seest these slaine, yet will saue thy life: Thou seest me wounded to preserue thy life. I that was neuer pittifull before, Am forc't to pitty thee, what wouldst thou more? Such pitty Alua, as thou shewedst my Father, And Noble Horne, such thou intendst tome, Therfore proceede & neuer pitty me. They offer at him agen Strike not I chargeue: come Egmont come, Is weare that thou shalt yeeld; strike, spare me not, Alas thou art too faint; come, yeeld thee now, I faith I will not hurt thee: So, haue done, Nay, no more weapons, thou art my prisoner. And I will vse thee verie honorablie. Alua, let foorth my life, & then thou honorst m