The Valiant Welshman (Caradoc the Great) · chunk 14 of 32
A., R. · published 1615 · first performed or written 1612 [1610-1615] (Annals) history · Prince Henry's Men unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
I was not wont, dear friends, to be so dull. I am all lead, as if my subtle soul Had left his lodging in this house of clay. Each empty corner of my faculties, And understanding powers, swell with dreams And dire presages of some future ill: Ghastly and fearful spectres haunt my sleep. And, if there be, as Heathen men affirm, Some godlike sparks in man's divining soul, Then my prophetic spirit tells me true, That some sad news attends my steps in Wales. I long to hear what mischief, or what good, Hath happened, since I parted from the King. Oh father, father, ffoot, I sweat, as if I had been buried in a Tun of hot grains. Come you Coxcomb, leave your proclamations and your preambles, and tell her the naked truth. My Father knows all. Indeed, father, the naked truth is, that the Fairy Queen robbed me of all my clothes: you might have seen me as poor as an Open-arse. But I can tell you news; the King is poisoned; Lord Codigune crowned; The Lady Guinevere, & the young Gentlewoman imprisoned. But hark you me, son Morion; is all this true, or invented of her own foolish pates and imaginashions? Why, I pray you, father, when did you hear a Gentleman of Wales tell lies? Her tell her true in that; 'tis the pravest Nation under the Suns for that Hark you me, sons; be Cad, it is a great teale better to be a thief, than a liar, I warrant her. What, Royal Prince, can chance predominate Over a mind, that, like the soul, retains A harmony of such concordant tunes? No sudden accident should make to jar. This tenement of clay, in which our soul Dwells in, until the Lease of life endures, Of learned men was well called, Microcosm, Or, little world: over whose mortal parts The stars do govern, whose immortal power Sometimes begets a fatal birth of woe; Sometimes again inverts their sullen course To unexpected Revels, turns our Critic hours To Cricket merriment; yet is there means that bars Their hateful influence. Wisdom rules the stars. You have lost a Father: Use the Athenians breath, Grave Solons; No man's happy until death. Oh, loving Prince, thus the Physician speaks To the disordered Patient: thus healthful Art Confers with wounded Nature. 'tis a common trick, Men being sound, give Physic to the sick. Fair Prince, misconstrue not my discontent; I grieve not, that Octavian is deprived Of life; but that he hath exchanged His life, for such a miserable death. What villain, but a prodigy of nature, Engendered by some Comet, would have forced His aged soul to wander in the air? Bearing a packet of such ponderous sins, Would crack the Axel-tree of heaven to bear. And not have given him liberty to pray? But I am armed with patience. First with words we'll seek to conquer; and if not, by sword's. March round; I hear their Drums.
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 was not wont, deare friends, to be so dull. I am all lead, as if my subtle soule Had left his lodging in this house of clay. Each empty corner of my faculties, And vnderstanding powers, swell with dreames And dire presages of some future ill: Gastly and fearefull specters haunt my sleepe. And, if there be, as Heathen men affirme, Some godlike sparks in mans diuining soule, Then my propheticke spirite tels me true, That some sad newes attends my steps in Wales. I long to heare what mischiefe, or what good, Hath hapned, since I parted from the King. Oh father, father, ffoot, I sweate, as if I had been buried in a Tunne of hote graynes. Come you Coxecombe, leaue your proclamations and your preambles, and tell her the naked truth. My Father knowes all. Indeed, father, the naked truth is, that the Fayry Queene robd me of all my clothes: you might haue seen me as poore as an Open-arse. But I can tell you newes; the King is poysoned; Lord Codigune crowned; The Lady Guiniuer, & the young Gentlewoman imprisoned. But harke you me, sonne Morion; is all this true, or inuented of her owne foolish pates and imaginashions? Why, I pray you, father, when did you heare a Gentleman of Wales tell lyes? Her tell her true in that; tis the prauest Nation vnder the Sunnes for that Harke you me, sonnes; be Cad, it is a great teale petter to be a thiefe, then a lyar, I warrant her. What, Royall Prince, can chaunce predominate Ouer a mind, that, like the soule, retaynes A harmony of such concordant tunes? No sudden accident should make to iarre. This tenement of clay, in which our soule Dwels in, vntill the Lease of life indures, Of learned men was well called, Microcosme, Or, little world: ouer whose mortall parts The starres doe gouerne, whose immortall power Sometimes begets a fatall birth of woe; Sometimes againe inuerts their sullen course To vnexpected Reuels, turnes our Critticke howres To Cricket merriment; yet is there meanes that barrs Their hatefull influence. Wisdome rules the starres. You haue lost a Father: Vse the Athenians breath, Graue Solons; No mans happy vntill death. Oh, louing Prince, thus the Physician speakes To the disordered Patient: thus healthfull Arte Conferres with wounded Nature. Tis a common tricke, Men being sound, giue Phisicke to the sicke. Fayre Prince, misconster not my discontent; I grieue not, that Octauian is depriued Of life; but that he hath exchanged His life, for such a miserable death. What villaine, but a prodigie of nature, Ingendred by some Comet, would haue forst His aged soule to wander in the ayre? Bearing a packet of such ponderous sinnes, Would cracke the Axel-tree of heauen to beare. And not haue giuen him liberty to pray? But I am armde with patience. First with words Weele seeke to conquer; and if not, by swords. March round; I heare their Drummes.