The Conspiracy of Charles Duke of Byron · chunk 18 of 33
Chapman, George · published 1608 · first performed or written 1608 [1607-1608] (Annals) history · Children of the Queen's Revels unassigned nearest T50 Fleets, armies and generals: war by sea · 494 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T50: sea, honour, general, soldiers, men, ship, fight, soldier, king, vittori.
I upon my life, The English General, the Mylord Norris, That served amongst you here, he paralleled With you, at all parts, and in some preferred him, And Colonel Williams (a Welsh Colonel) He made a man, that at your most contained you: Which the Welsh Herald of their praise, the cuckoo. Would scarce have put, in his monology, In jest, and said with reverence to his merits, With reverence? Reverence scorns him: by the spoil, Of all her Merits in me, he shall rue it; Did ever Curtain gulf play such a part? Had Curtius been so used, if he had brooked, That ravenous whirlpool, poured his solid spirits, Through earth dissolved sinews, stopped her veins, And rose with saved Rome, upon his back, As I swum pools of fire, and gulfs of brass, To save my country? thrust this venturous arm, Beneath her ruins; took her on my neck, And set her safe on her appeased shore? And opes the king, a fouler bog than this, In his so rotten bosom, to devour Him that devoured, what else had swallowed him In a detraction, so with spite imbrued, And drown such good in such ingratitude? My spirit as yet, but stooping to his rest, Shines hotly in him, as the Sun in clouds, Purpled, and made proud with a peaceful Even: But when I thoroughly set to him; his cheeks, Will (like those clouds) forego their colour quite, And his whole blaze, smoke into endless night, Nay nay, we must have no such gall my Lord, o'erflow our friendly livers: my relation, Only delivers my inflamed zeal To your religious merits; which methinks, Should make your highness canonized, a Saint. What had his arms been, without my arm, That with his motion, made the whole field move? And this held up, we still had victory. When over charged with number, his few friends, Retired amazed, I set them on assured, And what rude ruin seized on I confirmed; When I left leading, all his army reeled, One fell on other foul, and as the Cyclop That having lost his eye, struck every way, His blows directed to no certain scope; Or as the soul departed from the body, The body wants coherence in his parts, Can not consist, but sever, and dissolve; So I removed once, all his armies shook, Panted, and fainted, and were ever flying, Like wandering pulses spersed through bodies dying, It cannot be denied, 'tis all so true, That what seems arrogance, is desert in you, What monstrous humours feed a PRINCE's blood, Being bad to good men, and to bad men good? Well let these contradictions pass (my lord,) Till they be reconciled, or put in form, By power given to your will, and you present, The fashion of a perfect government; In mean space but a word, we have small time, To spend in private, which I wish may be With all advantage taken; Lord Laffin.
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 vpon my life, The English Generall, the Mylor' Norris, That seru'd amongst you here, he paralleld With you, at all parts, and in some preferd him, And Collonell Williams (a Welch Collonell) He made a man, that at your most containd you: Which the Welch Herrald of their praise, the Cucko. Would scarce haue put, in his monology, In iest, and said with reuerence to his merits, With reuerence? Reuerence skornes him: by the spoyle, Of all her Merits in me, he shall rue it; Did euer Curtian Gullffe play such a part? Had Curtius beene so vsed, if he had brook't, That rauenons whirlepoole, pourd his solide spirrits, Through earth dissolued sinews, stopt her veines, And rose with saued Rome, vpon his backe, As I swum pooles of fire, and Gullfs of brasse, To saue my country? thrust this venturous arme, Beneath her ruines; tooke her on my necke, And set her safe on her appeased shore? And opes the king, a fouler bog then this, In his so rotten bosome, to deuoure Him that deuourd, what else had swalloed him In a detraction, so with spight embrewed, And drowne such good in such ingratitude? My spirrit as yet, but stooping to his rest, Shines hotly in him, as the Sunne in clowds, Purpled, and made proud with a peacefull Euen: But when I throughly set to him; his cheekes, Will (like those clouds) forgoe their collour quite, And his whole blaze, smoke into endles night, Nay nay, we must haue no such gall my Lord, O'reflow our friendly liues: my relation, Onely deliuers my enflamed zeale To your religious merits; which me thinkes, Should make your highnes canonizd, a Saint. What had his armes beene▪ without my arme, That with his motion, made the whole field moue? And this held vp, we still had victory. When ouer charg'd with number, his few friends, Retir'd amazed, I set them on assurd, And what rude ruine seas'd on I confirmed; When I left leading, all his army reeld, One fell on other foule, and as the Cyclop That hauing lost his eye, strooke euery way, His blowes directed to no certaine scope; Or as the soule departed from the body, The body wants coherence in his parts, Can not consist, but seuer, and dissolue; So I remou'd once, all his armies shooke, Panted, and fainted, and were euer flying, Like wandring pulses spert through bodies dying, It cannot be denied, tis all so true, That what seemes arogance, is desert in you, What monstrous humors feed a Princes blood, Being bad to good men, and to bad men good? Well let these contradictions passe (my lord,) Till they be reconcil'd, or put in forme, By power giuen to your will, and you present, The fashion of a prefect gouernment; In meane space but a word, we haue small time, To spend in priuate, which I wish may be With all aduantage taken; Lord Laffin.