A Larum for London, or The Siege of Antwerp · chunk 13 of 25
Anonymous · published 1602 · first performed or written 1599 [c.1594-1600] (Annals) history · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T10 England and France: war, embassy and pea · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T10: france, french, england, king, lord, english, edward, talbot, peace, lords.
Where is it? not in Antwerp. Your closet will not serve your turn, You cannot walk to your garden-house. For God's sake help me as you are a man. Well, follow me, I'll do the best I can. Victory, victory, Antwerp and victory. So valiant Lords, this Music likes me well, Now may we boldly say the town is ours: Yet sheath not your victorious swords awhile, Till you have reaped the Harvest of your pain, In which pursuit, torture, exact and kill, No less than in your fury you have done. If the proud Antwerpers (that do survive) Lay not their treasure at your conquering feet. Though no resistance anywhere appear, Yet let not anger so decline with you Be proud of victory, as well ye may, Knowing the worth of your attained prize. 'tis wealthy Antwerp you have won, and how? Not by a lingering siege, of months or years, But in a moment; entering at a leaven, By two o'clock her haughty pride is shrunk, And she in duty stoopeth to your will. Can any here report the certain number, Of those that have been slain during the conflict? I had a note my Lord, as I remember, The number of the dead, by us cut off, Is seventeen thousand. But of our men, How many fell there in this short assault? Three hundred, or not many more my Lord. For those three hundred, let ten thousand more, Of this subjected City lose their lives, Chain them together in the Market place, By hundreds and two hundreds: and with shot, Ring them about until they all be slain, Spare neither widow, matron, not young maid, Gray-bearded Fathers, nor the babe that sucks. One Spaniard's blood, I value better worth, Than many hundreds of these drunken Dutch. First, if it please ye, quarter we the town, That every one may know his privilege. Well thought upon Verdugo: thus it shall be. The Burse, the Statehouse, and the Market place, Belongs to me: the Castle and that side, To Sancto Danila: on the other hand The key, and water-port (Verdugo) is yours. Saint George's port, and Kibdop, we assign To Lord Romeso: and for you Van End, The North part of the City, Venus' street, Remains the subject of desired spoil: So Lords, if I have well divided, speak; If not, you shall be pleased before we part? Your Lordship hath discreetly cast our lots, And for my part, I do accept of mine. So doth Romero. And Verdugo too. And I no less, than who is best content. About it then, be every one as quick, In rifling of these rich Burghers, as he was In the assault: the world may talk of us, As well for valour as our quick dispatch. My Soldiers and myself will straight begin. And mine shall follow. I'll not be behind. What will Verdugo? Not be Idle long, But who are these so saucily intrude?
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)
Where is it? not in Antwerpe. Your closet will not serue your turne, You cannot walke to your garden-house. For Gods sake helpe me as you are a man. Well, follow me, Ile doe the best I can. Victorie, victorie, Antwerpe and victorie. So valliant Lords, this Musicke likes me well, Now may we boldely say the towne is ours: Yet sheath not your victorious swoords awhile, Till you haue reapt the Haruest of your paine, In which pursuite, torture, exacte and kill, No lesse then in your fury you haue done. If the proude Antwerpers (that doe suruiue) Lay not their treasure at your conquering feete. Though no resistance any where appeare, Yet let not anger so decline with you Be proude of victorie, as well yee may, Knowing the worth of your attained prize. Tis wealthie Antwerpe you haue won, and how? Not by a lingering siedge, of monthes or yeares, But in a moment; entring at a leauen, By two a clocke her haughtie pride is shrunke, And she in duetie stoopeth to your will. Can any heere report the certaine number, Of those that haue been slaine during the conflict? I had a note my Lord, as I remember, The number of the dead, by vs cut off, Is seauenteene thousand. But of our men, How many fell there in this short assault? Three hundred, or not manie more my Lord. For those three hundred, let ten thousand more, Of this subiected Cittie loose their liues, Chaine them together in the Market place, By hundreds and two hundreds▪ and with shot, Ring them about vntill they all be slaine, Spare neither widdow, matron, not young maide, Gray-bearded Fathers, nor the babe that suckes. One Spaniards bloud, I value better worth, Then many hundreds of these drunken Dutch. First, if it please yee, quarter we the towne, That euerie one may know his priuiledge. Well thought vpon Verdugo: thus it shall be. The Burse, the State-house, and the Market place, Belongs to me: the Castle and that side, To Sancto Danila: on the other hand The key, and water-port (Verdugo) is yours. Saint Georges port, and Kibdop, we assigne To Lord Romeso: and for you Van End, The North part of the Cittie, Venus streete, Remaines the subiect of desired spoile: So Lords, if I haue well deuided, speake; If not, you shall be pleas'd before we part? Your Lordship hath discreetelie cast our lots, And for my part, I doe accept of mine. So doth Romero. And Verdugo too. And I no lesse, than who is best content. About it then, be euerie one as quicke, In rifling of these rich Burgers, as he was In the assault: the world may talke of vs, As well for vallor as our quicke dispatch. My Soldiers and my self will straight begin. And mine shall follow. Ile not be behinde. What will Verdugo? Not be Idle long, But who are these so saw cily intrude?