The Valiant Welshman (Caradoc the Great) · chunk 27 of 32
A., R. · published 1615 · first performed or written 1612 [1610-1615] (Annals) history · Prince Henry's Men unassigned nearest T50 Fleets, armies and generals: war by sea · 505 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T50: sea, honour, general, soldiers, men, ship, fight, soldier, king, vittori.
Soldier, I wish, if wishes could prevail, Thy princely Master were with us awhile, Till all these clouds of black contention Were either overblown, or else dissolved. Fame hath not left a man, more fit for talk Or disputation in bright honours schools, Then is thy noble Master. When I behold His noble portraiture but in conceit, Me thinks, I see the real thing itself Of perfit Honour and Nobility, And not fantastically apprehend Only the airy fictions of the brain. I now repent, that thus long I have spent My honour and my time, in aiding Rome, And thus far have digressed from Nature's laws, To aid a foreign Nation 'gainst mine own. Were but thy Master here, he soon should see, He hath his wish, and Wales her liberty. Then know, kind Prince, that thus I have presumed, To put thy honoured love unto the test, In this disguise, and with auricular boldness Have heard your tale of professed amity. And noble friend, than here stands Caradoc, Who now is come petitioner to thy aid, Betrayed unto the Romans by a villain. And whilst by dint of sword I fearless passed, Thorough the Legions of the puissant host. My Queen and daughter they have prisoners ta'en, Whose memory quickens my dangers past, And adds new fuel to my bleeding soul. Then, if thou be'st not verbal, but thy tongue Is with a single string strung to thy heart, All Wales shall honour thee and thy desert. Brave Prince, as welcome to Venusius, As sleep to wearied Nature. But now the time Fits not for frivolous compliments. Awhile Repose yourself with me, where you shall be As secret, as men would keep their sins From the world's eye, whilst in the mean time, I Prepare my forces. Wife, view this noble Prince: This is that man, that, in despite of Rome, This nine years space hath bravely waged war, And now by Treason's forced unto his friends. Then, wife, as thou dost tender our regard, Respect this Prince, and keep him privately, Until I do return. Farewell, noble Prince. Welcome, great Prince. Here think yourself secure, As in a Sanctuary, from your foes. My husband oftentimes hath worn out time, Discoursing of your worths superlative: And I am proud of such a worthy guest. Lady, I shall be troublesome: but ere long, I hope once more to meet this traitorous host, And seal my wrongs with ruin of my foes. Fame wrongs the Romans with these noble styles Of honour, and unseconded deserts. These attributes are only fit for men, That Godlike should be qualified with hate Of such infectious sins as Treasons are. Weake-pated Romans! what fidelity Can be in Traitors, who are so unjust, That their own Country is deceived in trust? Come, Madam, will you show the way? Now, Bluso, thus far have we by thy Art, Even to their private lodgings, fearless past Invisible to any mortal eye. But, Bluso, tell me, are we yet arrived At our expected Haven?
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)
Souldiour, I wish, if wishes could preuayle, Thy princely Master were with vs awhile, Till all these cloudes of blacke contention Were eyther ouerblowne, or else dissolued. Fame hath not left a man, more fit for talke Or disputation in bright honours scholes, Then is thy noble Master. When I behold His noble portrayture but in conceit, Me thinks, I see the reall thing it selfe Of perfite Honour and Nobility, And not fantastically apprehend Onely the ayry fictions of the brayne. I now repent, that thus long I haue spent My honour and my time, in ayding Rome, And thus far haue digrest from Natures lawes, To ayde a forrayne Nation 'gainst mine owne. Were but thy Master here, he soone should see, He hath his wish, and Wales her liberty. Then know, kind Prince, that thus I haue presum'd, To put thy honoured loue vnto the test, In this disguise, and with auricular boldnesse Haue heard your tale of profest amity. And noble friend, then here stands Caradoc, Who now is come petitioner to thy ayde, Betrayde vnto the Romanes by a villayne. And whilest by dint of sword I fearelesse past, Thorow the Legions of the puissant hoste. My Queene and daughter they haue prisoners tane, Whose memory quickens my dangers past, And adds new fuell to my bleeding soule. Then, if thou beest not verball, but thy tongue Is with a single string strung to thy heart, All Wales shall honour thee and thy desert. Braue Prince, as welcome to Venusius, As sleepe to wearied Nature. But now the time Fits not for friuolous complements. Awhile Repose your selfe with me, where you shall be As secret, as men would keepe their sinnes From the worlds eye, whilest in the meane time, I Prepare my forces. Wife, view this noble Prince: This is that man, that, in despite of Rome, This nine yeares space hath brauely waged warre, And now by Treason's forst vnto his friends. Then, wife, as thou doest tender our regard, Respect this Prince, and keepe him priuately, Vntill I doe returne. Farewell, noble Prince. Welcome, great Prince. Here thinke your selfe secure, As in a Sanctuary, from your foes. My husband oftentimes hath worne out time, Discoursing of your worths superlatiue: And I am proud of such a worthy ghest. Lady, I shall be troublesome: but ere long, I hope once more to meet this trayterous host, And seale my wrongs with ruine of my foes. Fame wrongs the Romanes with these noble stiles Of honour, and vnseconded deserts. These attributes are onely fitte for men, That God-like should be qualified with hate Of such infectious sinnes as Treasons are. Weake-pated Romanes! what fidelity Can be in Traytors, who are so vniust, That their own Country is deceiued in trust? Come, Madam, will you shew the way? Now, Bluso, thus farre haue wee by thy Arte, Euen to their priuate lodgings, fearelesse past Inuisible to any mortall eye. But, Bluso, tell me, are we yet arriued At our expected Hauen?