Anonymous / Marlowe, Christopher / Shakespeare, William / Nashe, Thomas · published 1623 · first performed or written 1590 (Annals) history · Derby's (Strange's) Men unassigned nearest T10 England and France: war, embassy and pea · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T10: france, french, england, king, lord, english, edward, talbot, peace, lords.
With scoffs and scorns, and contumelious taunts, In open Marketplace produced they me, To be a public spectacle to all: Here, said they, is the Terror of the French, The Scarecrow that affrights our Children so. Then broke I from the Officers that led me, And with my nails digged stones out of the ground, To hurl at the beholders of my shame. My grisly countenance made others fly, None durst come near, for fear of sudden death. In Iron Walls they deemed me not secure: So great fear of my Name 'mongst them were spread, That they supposed I could rend Bars of Steel, And spurn in pieces Posts of Adamant. Wherefore a guard of chosen Shot I had, That walked about me every Minute while: And if I did but stir out of my Bed, Ready they were to shoot me to the heart. I grieve to hear what torments you endured, But we will be revenged sufficiently. Now it is Supper time in Orleans: Here, through this Grate, I count each one, And view the Frenchmen how they fortify: Let us look in, the sight will much delight thee: Sir Thomas Gargrave, and Sir William Glandsdale, Let me have your express opinions, Where is best place to make our Battery next? I think at the North Gate, for there stands Lords. And I here, at the Bulwark of the Bridge. For aught I see, this City must be famished, Or with light Skirmishes enfeebled. O Lord have mercy on us, wretched sinners. O Lord have mercy on me, woeful man. What chance is this, that suddenly hath crossed us? Speak Salisbury; at least, if thou canst, speak: How farest thou, Mirror of all Martial men? One of thy Eyes, and thy Cheeks side struck off? Accursed Tower, accursed fatal Hand, That hath contrived this woeful Tragedy. In thirteen Battles, Salisbury o' recame: Henry the Fift he first trained to the Wars. Whilst any Trump did sound, or Drum struck up, His Sword did ne'er leave striking in the field. Yet liv'st thou Salisbury? though thy speech doth fail, One Eye thou hast to look to Heaven for grace. The Sun with one Eye vieweth all the World. Heaven be thou gracious to none alive, If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands. Bear hence his Body, I will help to bury it. Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life? Speak unto Talbot, nay, look up to him. Salisbury cheer thy Spirit with this comfort, Thou shalt not dye whiles— He beckons with his hand, and smiles on me: As who should say, When I am dead and gone, Remember to avenge me on the French. Plantagenet I will, and like thee, Play on the Lute, beholding the Towns burn: Wretched shall France be only in my Name. What stir is this? what tumult's in the Heavens? Whence cometh this Alarm, and the noise?
seed 43: T8 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
With ſcoffes and ſcornes, and contumelious taunts, In open Market-place produc't they me, To be a publique ſpectacle to all: Here, ſayd they, is the Terror of the French, The Scar-Crow that affrights our Children ſo. Then broke I from the Officers that led me, And with my nayles digg'd ſtones out of the ground, To hurle at the beholders of my ſhame. My griſly countenance made others flye, None durſt come neere, for feare of ſuddaine death. In Iron Walls they deem'd me not ſecure: So great feare of my Name 'mongſt them were ſpread, That they ſuppos'd I could rend Barres of Steele, And ſpurne in pieces Poſts of Adamant. Wherefore a guard of choſen Shot I had, That walkt about me euery Minute while: And if I did but ſtirre out of my Bed, Ready they were to ſhoot me to the heart. I grieue to heare what torments you endur'd, But we will be reueng'd ſufficiently. Now it is Supper time in Orleance: Here, through this Grate, I count each one, And view the Frenchmen how they fortifie: Let vs looke in, the ſight will much delight thee: Sir Thomas Gargraue, and Sir William Glandſdale, Let me haue your expreſſe opinions, Where is beſt place to make our Batt'ry next? I thinke at the North Gate, for there ſtands Lords. And heere, at the Bulwarke of the Bridge. For ought I ſee, this Citie muſt be famiſht, Or with light Skirmiſhes enfeebled. O Lord haue mercy on vs, wretched ſinners. O Lord haue mercy on me, wofull man. What chance is this, that ſuddenly hath croſt vs? Speake Salisbury; at leaſt, if thou canſt, ſpeake: How far'ſt thou, Mirror of all Martiall men? One of thy Eyes, and thy Cheekes ſide ſtruck off? Accurſed Tower, accurſed fatall Hand, That hath contriu'd this wofull Tragedie. In thirteene Battailes, Salisbury o' recame: Henry the Fift he firſt trayn'd to the Warres. Whil'ſt any Trumpe did ſound, or Drum ſtruck vp, His Sword did ne're leaue ſtriking in the field. Yet liu'ſt thou Salisbury? though thy ſpeech doth fayle, One Eye thou haſt to looke to Heauen for grace. The Sunne with one Eye vieweth all the World. Heauen be thou gracious to none aliue, If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands. Beare hence his Body, I will helpe to bury it. Sir Thomas Gargraue, haſt thou any life? Speake vnto Talbot, nay, looke vp to him. Salisbury cheare thy Spirit with this comfort, Thou ſhalt not dye whiles— He beckens with his hand, and ſmiles on me: As who ſhould ſay, When I am dead and gone, Remember to auenge me on the French. Plantaginet I will, and like thee, Play on the Lute, beholding the Townes burne: Wretched ſhall France be onely in my Name. What ſtirre is this? what tumult's in the Heauens? Whence commeth this Alarum, and the noyſe?