Dekker, Thomas · published 1607 · first performed or written 1606 [c.1606-1607] (Annals) history; allegory · Prince Henry's Men unassigned nearest T50 Fleets, armies and generals: war by sea · 497 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T50: sea, honour, general, soldiers, men, ship, fight, soldier, king, vittori.
They say you can throw mists before our eyes, To make us think you fair. Damned blasphemies. You shall with rods of iron scourge these treasons. The Mace is in your hand, grind them to dust. And let your blows be sound. For they are just. Let's hear with what loud throats our thunder speaks, Repeat our vengeance o'er, which to beat Kings Must now fly o'er the seas with linen wings. Our Galeons, Galleasses, Zabraes, Galleys, Ships, Pynaces, Pataches, huge Caruiles', For number, rib and belly are so great, That should they want a Sea near Fairy land Of depth to bear them up, they in their wombs Might swim with a sea thither: here are briefs Of your imperial Armies. Read them loud: Thunder ne'er speaks, but the voice cracks a cloud. In the first Squadron twelve great Galeons: Float like twelve moving Castles: Zabraes two. Habilimented gloriously for war, With Soldiers, Seamen, shot, and ordinance: This Squadron stout Medina does command: Who of the main is Captain General. The second Squadron brave Ricalde leads, Being Admiral to fouretene Galleons. Flores de Ualdes guides, the third, the fourth Follows the silken streamers of the haughty Pedro de Valdes that tried warrior. Oquendo in the fift front cries a Charge. Bretandona brings up the Levantines With his sixt Squadron: Gomes de Medina Waftes up the seventh like the God of war, The eighth obeys Mendoza: and the ninth Fierce Vgo de Montada: all these Squadrons, For vessel, numbered are one hundred thirty, The sight of Soldiers, Mariners, and Slaves Twenty nine thousand, eight hundred thirty three. Pieces of brass for battery these, Six hundred thirty: add to these Galleons Twenty Caruiles', and Saluees ten: which make The whole Armada, eightscore lusty sail. Add to all these your Generals of Armies, Your Captains, Ensign bearers, (which in role, Are eightscore and eleven) the Voluntaries, With officers and servants, than the Regiments That are in pay: to these, all men of orders, All ministers of justice: and to these Supplies of forces that must second us, And last that host of stars which from the Moon Will fall to guide us on: these totald up, You shall a hundred thousand swords behold Brandished at once, whose— stands Men will seem borne with weapons in their hands. Go: cut the fault some with your mooned keels, And let our Galeons feel even childbirth pangs, Till their great bellies be delivered On the soft Fairy shores: captive their Queen, That we may thus take oft her crown, whilst she Kneels to these glorious wonders, or be trampled To death for her contempt: burn, batter, kill, Blow up, pull down, ruin all, let not white hairs, Nor red cheeks blunt your wrath, snatch babes from breasts, And when they cry for milk, let them suck blood, Turn all their fields to lakes of gellyed gore, That Seamen one day sailing by the land May say, there Fairy kingdom once did stand.
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)
They say you can throw mists before our eyes, To make vs thinke you faire. Damnd blasphemies. You shall with rods of iron scourge these treasons. The Mace is in your hand, grinde them to dust. And let your blowes be sound. For they are iust. Lets heare with what lowde throats our thunder speakes, Repeate our vengeance o're, which to beate Kings Must now flie o're the seas with linnen winges. Our Galeons, Galeasses, Zabraes, Gallies, Ships, Pynaces, Pataches, huge Caruiles, For number, rib and belly are so great, That should they want a Sea neere Faiery land Of depth to beare them vp, they in their wombs Might swim with a sea thither: here are breifes Of your imperiall Armies. Reade them lowde: Thunder ner'e speakes, but the voice crackes a clowde. In the first Squadron twelue great Galeons: Floate like twelue moouing Castles: Zabraes two. Habilimented gloriously for warre, With Souldiers, Seamen, shot, and ordinance: This Squadron stout Medyna does command: Who of the maine is Captaine Generall. The second Squadron braue Ricalde leades, Being Admirall to fouretene Galleons. Flores de Ualdes guides, the third, the fourth Followes the silken streamers of the haughty Pedro de Valdes that▪ tryed warriour. Oquendo in the fift front cries a Charge. Bretandona bringes vp the Leuantines With his sixt Squadron: Gomes de Medyna Waftes vp the seauenth like the God of warre, The eighth obayes Mendoza: and the ninth Fierce Vgo de Montada: all these Squadrons, For vessell, numbred are one hundred thirtie, The sight of Souldiers, Marriners, and Slaues Twentie nine thousand, eight hundred thirtie three. Peeces of brasse for battery these, Six hundred thirtie: adde to these Gallions Twentie Caruiles, and Saluees ten: which make The whole Armada, eightscore lustie saile. Add to all these your Generals of Armies, Your Captaines, Ensigne bearers, (which in role, Are eightscore and eleauen) the Voluntaries, With officers and seruants, then the Regiments That are in pay: to these, all men of orders, All ministers of iustice: and to these Supplies of forces that must second vs, And last that host of starres which from the Moone Will fall to guide vs on: these totald vp, You shal a hundred thowsand swordes behold Brandish't at once, whose—standes Men will seeme borne with weapons in their handes. Goe: cut the falt some with your mooned keeles, And let our Galeons feele euen child-birth panges, Till their great bellies be deliuered On the soft Faiery shoares: captiue their Queene, That we may thus take oft her crowne, whilst she Kneeles to these glorious wonders, or be trampled To death for her contempt: burne, btter, kill, Blow vp, pull downe, ruine all, let not white haires, Nor red cheekes blunt your wrath, snatch babes from brests, And when they crie for milke, let them sucke bloud, Turne all their fieldes to lakes of gellyed goare, That Sea-men one day sayling by the land May say, there Faiery kingdome once did stand.