The Valiant Welshman (Caradoc the Great) · chunk 18 of 32
A., R. · published 1615 · first performed or written 1612 [1610-1615] (Annals) history · Prince Henry's Men unassigned nearest T2 Roman politics: senate, consuls and civi · 473 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
Yes, mighty Artist, were he thrice inspired With more than human courage, he may as soon Conquer those matchless Giants, that were set To keep the Orchard of Hesperides, Or match the labours of great Hercules. Go shroud thy horrid shape within this wood, And seize on all thou meetest. Come, Gloster, in, And here awhile abide within this Cave. Thy eyes shall see what thy vexed soul did crave. Now, valiant Romans, once more do we tread Upon the bosom of the British ground: And by the gods that do protect great Rome, we'll now acquit great Caesar's foul disgrace, Or die like Romans in this foray ne place. Me thinks, it is a shame to Rome and us, That have been counted famous through the world, For matchless victories, and feats of arms, That such a petty Island should repulse So huge an army of the Roman strength, Able to sack the spacious walls of Troy, To level Babel's pride even with the ground: An I'll, that in respect of Caesar's power, Is like the Centre, to the ample heavens; A point, unto a large circumference; Small atoms, to the body of the Sun. Sure, this Welshman works by Magic spells, Or, 'tis impossible, if he be a man, Composed of flesh and blood, sinews and nerves, He should outdare so puissant an host. Great General, that which he holds, is mine; And though enforced by violence and wrong, From that which Nature left my heritage: Yet, since I see such hopes, so fairly sprung From such an honourable head, as Rome, Whose fame for honour, chivalry and arms, Outshines all Nations with her glorious rays: This Caradoc, whom men do causeless fear, Is of condition insolent and proud, Ambitious, tyrannous, speckled with every vice The infectious time can harbour. Say, we confess him bold, And of a courage that grim visaged death, The object of true valour, cannot daunt; Though Proteus-like, he came in thousand shapes, What's he, compared to numbers infinite? Or that Imperial Rome, whose Eagle eyes Have gazed against the sun of matchless triumphs, Should basely fear a weak and silly Fly? This Welshman is all superficial, Without dimensions, and like a mountain swells, In labour only with great airy words, Whose birth is nothing, but a silly Mouse; Actions without their measure or their weight. Then, Romans, derogate not from the worth, That time in ancient Chronicles records Of your eternal honours got in war. But if you prize your honours more than life, Or human happiness, here's a noble cause Of wrong and usurpation, to erect A statue to your dying memory. Then on, great General, wave the Roman Eagle, Even to the Tents of haughty Caradoc, And with my blood I'll second this brave fight, Or hide my shame by death in endless night.
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)
Yes, mighty Artist, were he thrice inspirde With more then humane courage, he may as soone Conquer those matchlesse Giants, that were set To keepe the Orchard of Hesperides, Or match the labours of great Hercules. Goe shrowde thy horrid shape within this wood, And seize on all thou meetst. Come, Gloster, in, And here awhile abide within this Caue. Thy eyes shall see what thy vext soule did craue. Now, valiant Romanes, once more do we tread Vpon the bosome of the Bryttish ground: And by the gods that doe protect great Rome, Weele now acquite great Cesars foule disgrace, Or die like Romanes in this forray ne place. Me thinks, it is a shame to Rome and vs, That haue beene counted famous through the world, For matchlesse victories, and feates of armes, That such a petty Iland should repulse So huge an army of the Romane strength, Able to sacke the spacious walles of Troy, To leuell Babels pride euen with the ground: An Ile, that in respect of Cesars power, Is like the Center, to the ample heauens; A poynt, vnto a large circumference; Small atomes, to the body of the Sunne. Sure, this Welshman works by Magicke spels, Or, tis impossible, if he be a man, Compos'd of flesh and bloud, sinewes and nerues, He should out-dare so puissant an host. Great Generall, that which he holds, is mine; And though infor'st by violence and wrong, From that which Nature left my heritage: Yet, since I see such hopes, so fayrely sprung From such an honourable head, as Rome, Whose fame for honour, cheualry and armes, Out-shines all Nations with her glorious rayes: This Caradoc, whom men doe causlesse feare, Is of condition insolent and proud, Ambitious, tyrannous, speckled with euery vice The infectious time can harbour. Say, we confesse him bold, And of a courage that grim visag'd death, The obiect of true valour, cannot daunt; Though Proteus-like, he came in thousand shapes, What's he, comparde to numbers infinite? Or that Imperiall Rome, whose Eagle eyes Haue gaz'd against the sunne of matchlesse tryumphs, Should basely feare a weake and silly Fly? This Welshman is all superficiall, Without dimensions, and like a mountaine swels, In labour onely with great ayry words, Whose birth is nothing, but a silly Mouse; Actions without their measure or their weight. Then, Romanes, derogate not from the worth, That time in ancient Chronicles records Of your eternall honours got in warre. But if you prize your honours more than life, Or humane happinesse, here's a noble cause Of wrong and vsurpation, to erect A statue to your dying memory. Then on, great Generall, waue the Romane Eagle, Euen to the Tents of haughty Caradoc, And with my bloud Ile second this braue fight, Or hide my shame by death in endlesse night.