The Valiant Welshman (Caradoc the Great) · chunk 30 of 32
A., R. · published 1615 · first performed or written 1612 [1610-1615] (Annals) history · Prince Henry's Men unassigned nearest T18 Rebels, barons and the king's wars at ho · 467 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T18: king, lord, wallace, earl, edward, england, scotland, rebels, bruce, english.
Thus, noble Lords, Venusius armed comes, In love to Wales, and that much wronged Prince, Who now at York, lives private from his foes, From whence we now will call him, and awake His ancient courage, that long time hath slept, Upon the downy pillows of repose. Good Angels, guide us: this our latest strife Shall set a period to our death or life. Me thinks, right noble Lord, yet I presage The horror of this battle we intent, Will cost a mass of blood; nor do I stand Firmly resolved: and the least spark of valour Turns to a Flame of Magnanimity. Oh, were my brother Caradoc but here, Our minds were made invincible, all our thoughts Were fixed on warlike Music, or any thing Beyond a common venture. And see, in time Our princely brother, and our sister comes. Welcome, dear brother, how escaped you danger, And purchased such a happy liberty? All that I have, I freely do ascribe Unto this learned man, whose secret Art, Beyond the strain of deep Philosophy, Or any natural science under heaven, Possessed me of this jewel of my soul, And through the Roman host invisible, Conveyed us both safe, as you see we are. Hark you me, you remember our Cousin Caradoc and Morgan, do you not? Give me your hands. Be Cad, I shall love the Tevill, till breath's in her body, for this trick. Be Cad, he hath done more good than any justice of Peace this seven years, for all her stocks and whipping posts. Hark you me now. Hark, hark, the Romans march to us with speed▪ Now Royal Princes, think on our wild disgrace, Their Treasons, falsehoods, and conspiracies; And double resolution whet your rage. Oh Caradoc, there's nothing wants but thee, And now too late to buckle on thy Arms. If in this bloody skirmish I survive, Triumphs shall crown the glorious brow of Wales. Bastard, begot at the back door of nature, Cornwall the author of these bleeding wounds, That many a wretch shall suffer for their wrongs. Behold, we come armed with a triple rage, To scourge your base indignities with steel. Noble Prince Galled, here in our brother's stead, Conduct our Army forth as General. Romans, come on, your pride must catch a fall. Now Britain's, though the wrongs done to this Prince. And to ourselves, deserve a sharp revenge; Yet, for we pity the effusion And havoc that these cruel broils intent, Once more in peace we crave this Princes right, Which your weak Army can no way detain. Perhaps you stand upon the idle hopes Of Caradoc: Know then, you are deceived: For he's our prisoner, and to Rome is sent With Manlius Valens to the Emperor. Then yield yourselves, or try the chance of war.
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)
Thus, noble Lords, Venusius armed comes, In loue to Wales, and that much wronged Prince, Who now at Yorke, liues priuate from his foes, From whence we now will call him, and awake His ancient courage, that long time hath slept, Vpon the downy pillowes of repose. Good Angels, guide vs: this our latest strife Shall set a period to our death or life. Me thinks, right noble Lord, yet I presage The horror of this battell we intend, Will cost a masse of bloud; nor doe I stand Firmely resolu'd: and the least sparke of valour Turnes to a Flame of Magnanimity. Oh, were my brother Caradoc but here, Our minds were made inuincible, all our thoughts Were fixt on warlike Musicke, or any thing Beyond a common venter. And see, in time Our princely brother, and our sister comes. Welcome, deare brother, how escapte you danger, And purchast such a happy liberty? All that I haue, I freely doe ascribe Vnto this learned man, whose secret Arte, Beyond the strayne of deepe Philosophy, Or any naturall science vnder heauen, Possest me of this Iewell of my soule, And through the Romane hoste inuisible, Conuayde vs both safe, as you see we are. Harke you me, you remember our Cousin Caradoc and Morgan, do you not? Giue me your hands. Be Cad, I shall loue the Teuill, til breath's in her pody, for this tricke. Be Cad, he hath done more good then any Iustice of Peace this seuen yeres, for all her stocks and whipping posts. Harke you me now. Harke, harke, the Romanes march to vs with speed▪ Now Royall Princes, thinke on our vilde disgrace, Their Treasons, falshoods, and conspiracies; And double resolution whet your rage. Oh Caradoc, there's nothing wants but thee, And now too late to buckle on thy Armes. If in this bloudy skirmish I suruiue, Triumphs shall crown the glorious brow of Wales. Bastard, begot at the backe dore of nature, Cornewall the author of these bleeding wounds, That many a wretch shall suffer for their wrongs. Behold, we come arm'd with a triple rage, To scourge your base indignities with steele. Noble Prince Gald, here in our brothers stead, Conduct our Army foorth as Generall. Romanes, come on, your pride must catch a fall. Now Bryttaines, though the wrongs done to this Prince. And to our selues, deserue a sharpe reuenge; Yet, for wee pitty the effusion And hauocke that these cruell broyles intend, Once more in peace we craue this Princes right, Which your weake Army can no way detayne. Perhaps you stand vpon the idle hopes Of Caradoc: Know then, you are deceyued: For hee's our prisoner, and to Rome is sent With Manlius Valens to the Emperour. Then yeeld your selues, or trie the chance of warre.