The Valiant Welshman (Caradoc the Great) · chunk 32 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 · 543 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T50: sea, honour, general, soldiers, men, ship, fight, soldier, king, vittori.
Cesar, a man, that scorns to bow to Ioue, Were he a man like Cesar: such a man, That neither cares for life, nor fears to die. I was not borne to kneel, but to the Gods, Nor basely bow unto a lump of clay▪ In adoration of a clod of earth. Were Cesar Lord of all the spacious world, Even from the Arctic, to the Antarctic poles, And but a man; in spite of death and him, I'd keep my legs upright, honour should stand Fixed as the Centre, at no Kings command. Thou mayest as well enforce the foaming surge Of high-swollen Neptune, with a word retire, And leave his flowing tide, as make me bow. Thinks Cesar, that this petty misery Of servile bonds, can make true honour stoop? No, 'tis enough for sycophants and slaves, To crouch to Tyrants, that fear their graves. I was not borne when flattery begged land, And eat whole Lordships up with making legs. Let it suffice: were Cesar thrice as great, I'd neither bow to Rome, him nor his seat. So brave a Britain hath not Cesar heard. But soft; I am deceived, but I behold The golden Lion hang about his neck, That I delivered to a valiant Soldier, That ransomless released me of my bonds. Great spirit (for thy tongue bewrays no less) If Cesar may entreat thee, kindly tell, Where, or from whom hadst thou that golden lion, That hangs about thy neck? From Cesar, or from such another man, That seemed no less in power then Cesar is, Whom I took captive, (and so Cesar was) And ransomless sent back unto his Tents. Then, if in all he like to Cesar be, Cesar, I am deceived, but thou art he. But he that took me, was a common soldier. No, Cesar: but disguised I left my troops, Being forbidden by the British King, To fight at all, and rushed into the host, Where, from thy hands I took this golden lion. Thy words confirm the truth. For this brave deed, And kind courtesy showed to Cesar in extremes, We freely give you all your liberties, And honourably will return you home With everlasting peace and unity. And this shall Cesar speak unto thy Fame, The valiant Welshman merits honours name. Time cuts off our valiant Welshmans worth, When longer Scenes more amply might have shown▪ But that the Story's tedious to rehearse, And we in danger of impatient ears, Which too long repetition might beget. Here leave we him with Cesar full of mirth: And now of you old Bardh entreats to tell, In good or ill, our Story doth excel. If ill, then go I to my silent Tomb, And in my shroud sleep in the quiet earth, That did intend to give a second birth. But if it please, than Bardh shall tune his strain, To sing this Welshmans praises once again▪ Bells are the dead man's music: ere I go, Your Clappers sound will tell me I, or no. We are your Tenants, and are come to know, Whether the Rent we paid, hath pleased or no. If not, our Lease is void: but 'tis your Lands; And therefore you may seal it with your hands.
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)
Cesar, a man, that scornes to bow to Ioue, Were he a man like Cesar: such a man, That neither cares for life, nor feares to die. I vvas not borne to kneele, but to the Gods, Nor basely bovv vnto a lumpe of clay▪ In adoration of a clod of earth. Were Cesar Lord of all the spacious vvorld, Euen from the Articke, to the Antarticke poles, And but a man; in spite of death and him, Ide keepe my legs vpright, honour should stand Fixt as the Center, at no Kings commaund. Thou mayest as well inforce the foming surge Of high-swolne Neptune, with a word retire, And leaue his flowing tide, as make me bow. Thinks Cesar, that this petty misery Of seruill bonds, can make true honour stoope? No, tis inough for Sicophants and slaues, To crouch to Tyrants, that feare their graues. I was not borne when flattery begd land, And eate whole Lordships vp with making legs. Let it suffice: were Cesar thrice as great, Ide neyther bow to Rome, him nor his seate. So braue a Bryttaine hath not Cesar heard. But soft; I am deceyued, but I behold The golden Lyon hang about his necke, That I deliuered to a valiant Souldiour, That ransomlesse releast me of my bonds. Great spirit (for thy tongue bewrayes no lesse) If Cesar may intreat thee, kindly tell, Where, or from whom hadst thou that golden lyon, That hangs about thy necke? From Cesar, or from such another man, That seem'd no lesse in power then Cesar is, Whom I tooke captiue, (and so Cesar was) And ransomlesse sent backe vnto his Tents. Then, if in all he like to Cesar be, Cesar, I am deceyu'd, but thou art he. But he that tooke me, was a common souldier. No, Cesar: but disguis'd I left my troupes, Being forbidden by the Bryttish King, To fight at all, and rusht into the hoste, Where, from thy hands I tooke this golden Lyon. Thy words confirme the truth. For this braue deed, And kind courtesie shewed to Cesar in extremes, We freely giue you all your liberties, And honourably will returne you home With euerlasting peace and vnity. And this shall Cesar speake vnto thy Fame, The valiant Welshman merits honours name. Time cuts off our valiant Welshmans worth, When longer Sceanes more amply might haue showne▪ But that the Story's tedious to rehearse, And we in danger of impatient eares, Which too long repetition might beget. Here leaue we him with Cesar full of mirth: And now of you old Bardh intreates to tell, In good or ill, our Story doth excell. If ill, then goe I to my silent Tombe, And in my shrowde sleepe in the quiet earth, That did intend to giue a second birth. But if it please, then Bardh shall tune his strayne, To sing this Welshmans prayses once againe▪ Bells are the dead mans musicke: ere I goe, Your Clappers sound will tell me I, or no. We are your Tenants, and are come to know, Whether the Rent we payde, hath pleas'd or no. If not, our Lease is voyde: but tis your Lands; And therefore you may seale it with your hands.