A Larum for London, or The Siege of Antwerp · chunk 12 of 25
Anonymous · published 1602 · first performed or written 1599 [c.1594-1600] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T57 Ships, merchants and pirates · 476 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T57: ship, sea, master, sail, home, money, pisaro, life, ships, till.
Not for the world, prisoner thou shalt to Spain, And there be entertained to thy deserts. Now pity, pack from Aluaes heart again, Against my nature once I looked on thee, For this Counts sake: now to the deserts fly, For havoc, spoil and murder now I cry. Have mercy on a woman I beseech you, As you are men and Soldiers: If you be christians do not do me shame. Search her. 'Zounds turn her inside outward. Ransack her, every part of her. For manhood spare me. How nimbly death bestirs him everywhere, And I that am a weary of my life, And would fain die I cannot, Death is so proud he will not look on me, These muddy rogues that hoarded up their coin, Now have their throats cut for the coin they have: They that for two pence would have seen me starve, And still my old rotten stump and I, Trot up and down as long as we can wag. As you are men, be merciful to me. Cast lots who shall have her. I'll give thee my share for thy part. I'll have my share in her. Off with her jewels How now, two Soldiers ransacking a woman? O 'tis Champaigns wife that was the Governor, Here is she, that would not have been seen with a moth upon her, for a thousand pound; That spent as much on Monkeys, Dogs and Parrots, As would have kept ten Soldiers all the year. Zblood I have seen her, where I have passed by her In the streets, to stop her nose with her sweet gloves, For fear my smell should have infected her; And now I live to see her lugged, and torn By lousy tottered rogues: O Antwerp, Antwerp, Now madam Marchpaigne, minx, your Blows And you are one. Let's have her in the next corner. Draw her along, Take that she has it is sufficient, But go no further, it is inhuman to abuse a woman. What rogue art thou, darest speak unto a Spaniard? No rogue Sir, but a Soldier as you are, And have had one leg more than I have now. Sir, here's my Passport, I have known the wars, And have had the vantage of as fair a spoil as you have here. Away you whoreson cripple rascal. You tottered shake-ragged rogues, what domineer you? If Dalva's self were here, he should not do it. Good Soldier, here's one jewel that they have not That I do value at a thousand crowns, I pray thee take it. What should I do with it, can you tell? To have my throat cut for it, ha: No, no your Sister Mince-pies groat Will do me no pleasure now. For God's love, as you ever did respect a woman, Help to convey me to some place of safety.
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)
Not for the world, prisoner thou shalt to Spaine, And there be entertain'd to thy desertes. Now pittie, packe from Aluaes hart againe, Against my nature once I lookt on thee, For this Cunts sake: now to the desarts flye, For hauocke, spoile and murder now I crye. Haue mercie on a woman I beseech you, As you are men and Soldiers: If you be christians doe not doe me shame. Search her. Zwonds turne her inside outward. Ransacke her, euerie part of her. For manhood spare me. How nimblie death be-stirs him euery where, And I that am a wearie of my life, And would faine dye I cannot, Death is so proude he will not looke on me, These muddie roagues that hoorded vp their coyne, Now haue their throates cut for the coyne they haue: They that for two pence would haue seene me starue, And still my olde rotten stump and I, Trot vp and downe as long as we can wag. As you are men▪ be mercifull to me. Cast lots who shall haue her. Ile giue thee my share for thy part. Ile haue my share in her. Off with her Iewels How now, two Soldiers ransacking a woman? O tis Champaignes wife that was the Gouernor, Heere is she, that would not haue been seene with a moath vpon her, for a thousand pound; That spent as much on Munkeys, Dogs and Parets, As would haue kept ten Soldiers all the yeere. Zblood I haue seene her, where I haue past by her In the streetes, to stop her nose with her sweete gloues, For feare my smell should haue infected her; And now I liue to see her lg'd, and torne By lowzie totter'd roagues: O Antwerpe, Antwerpe, Now Madame Marchpaigne, minx, your Blowes And you are one. Lets haue her in the next corner. Draw her along, Take that she has it is sufficient, But goe no further, it is inhumaine to abuse a woman. What roague art thou, darst speake vnto a Spaniard? No roague Sir, but a Soldier as you are, And haue had one leg more then I haue now. Sir, heer's my Pasport, I haue knowne the warres, And haue had the vantage of as faire a spoile as you haue heere. Away you whorson cripple rascall. You totter'd shake-rag'd roagues, what domineere you? If Daluas self were heere, he should not doe it. Good Soldier, heer's one Iewell that they haue not That I doe vallue at a thousand crownes, I pray thee take it. What should I doe with it, can you tell? To haue my throate cut for it, ha: No, no your Sister Mince-pies groate Will doe me no pleasure now. For Gods loue, as you euer did respect a woman, Helpe to conuay me to some place of safetie.