The Seven Champions of Christendom · chunk 7 of 43
Kirke, John · published 1638 · first performed or written 1635 [1634-1638] (Annals) romance · Red Bull Company (second) · Red Bull unassigned nearest T26 Devils, hell and fiends · 498 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T26: devil, hell, devils, sure, soul, fiend, sr, wife, lord, men.
This instrument is not of power to deal with fiends. Destroy him Tarpax, let not the villain breath. I will make trial of this other tool. Calib farewell, we can no longer stay, we'll meet thee straight in flames, our jovial day. Now cleaves the Rock, and I do sink to Hell; Roar wind, clap Thunder for great Calibs knell. Sink down unto thy black infernal fellows hag. This messenger assures me Heaven's pleased, At whose sweet air the other air dissolves, And all the black enchanted vapours hell cast up, Descends to make her night more horrid there: And now those woods that were so long choked up With hell's black sulphur and disastrous fumes, Give welcome to the golden eye of day, As a most cheerful and blessed visitant. But stay a little, all is not firmly finished, There is an unlicked lump of hers remains, Suckabus her son: oh are ye there sir? Come, prepare ye. Alas sir, what to do? To make a brand for the devil's fire: I'll cut your throat, and send you thither straight. I do beseech you sir, have no compassion on me, And let me live with you: There be Cooks enough in hell without me, Their roast-meat is too hot for my fingers, I shall never be able to lick 'em; I had rather be Your Scullion here, than Cook Ruffian there: I beseech you take pity on me a Motherless child, Let me live with you sir, and Suckabus shall suck Out his own heart to do you any pleasure. Well, take thy life, be faithful in my service, Thy Mother's sin hath perished with her life: Learn thou by her example then to shun it, Be my attendant still and follow me. I thank you sir, and for this life that you have saved, Think it no life, for it is not; you may command, And have it when you please; and I'll be as firm to you As fire in water, as tender as the Fox o'er the Goose, Or the Wolf o'er the Lamb; when you are most In any danger, I'll be farthest off from ye; Disobey your commands, and keep your secrets like a crier, Or any thing else I can do for you. Well sir, we'll construe your good meaning, I long to be in armour, mounted on a Steed, To scuffle with black danger and her bugbears: First I'll set free those Knights, and cherish them; Then see how long lost armour sits upon their backs, That done to Arms, to hunt out honour's game, For George is no George till I purchase fame. Illo hist, Suckabus come hither. I cannot; do not you see my Master gone before? I am now bound, and must obey, must follow after: You have fried my mother in stakes by this time, And you would have my Lamb stones and sweetbread To inch out your commons. Come back, or I will force thee.
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)
This inſtrument is not of power to deale with fiends. Deſtroy him Tarpax, let not the villaine breath. I will make tryall of this other toole. Calib farwell, we can no longer ſtay, Wee'le meete thee ſtrait in flames, our joviall day. Now cleaves the Rock, and I doe ſinke to Hell; Roare wind, clap Thunder for great Calibs knell. Sinke downe unto thy black infernall fellows hagge. This meſſenger aſſures me Heaven's pleas'd, At whoſe ſweet ayre the other ayre diſſolves, And all the black inchanted vapours hell caſt up, Deſcends to make her night more horrid there: And now thoſe woods that were ſo long choak't up With Hells black ſulpher and diſaſtrous fumes, Give welcome to the golden eye of day, As a moſt cheerefull and bleſt viſitant. But ſtay a little, all is not firmely finiſht, There is an unlickt lumpe of hers remaines, Suckabus her ſon: oh are ye there ſir? Come, prepare ye. Alas ſir, what to doe? To make a brand for the devills fire: I'le cut your throate, and ſend you thither ſtrait. I doe beſeech you ſir, have no compaſſion on me, And let me live with you: There be Cookes enough in hell without me, Their roaſt-meate is too hot for my fingers, I ſhall never be able to licke 'em; I had rather be Your Scullian here, than Cooke Ruffian there: I beſeech you take pitty on me a Motherleſſe child, Let me live with you ſir, and Suckabus ſhall ſuck Out his owne heart to doe you any pleaſure. Well, take thy life, be faithfull in my ſervice, Thy Mothers ſin hath periſht with her life: Learne thou by her example then to ſhun it, Be my attendant ſtill and follow me. I thanke you ſir, and for this life that you have ſav'd, Thinke it no life, for it is not; you may command, And have it when you pleaſe; and I'le be as firme to you As fire in water, as tender as the Foxe o're the Gooſe, Or the Wolfe o're the Lambe; when you are moſt In any danger, I'le be fartheſt off from yee; Diſobey your commands, and keepe your ſecrets like a cryer, Or any thing elſe I can doe for you. Well ſir, wee'le conſter your good meaning, I long to be in armour, mounted on a Steed, To ſcuffle with black danger and her bug-beares: Firſt Ile ſet free thoſe Knights, and cheriſh them; Then ſee how long loſt armour ſits upon their backs, That done to Armes, to hunt out Honours game, For George is no George till I purchaſe fame. Illo hiſt, Suckabus come hither. I cannot; doe not you ſee my Maſter gone before? I am now bound, and muſt obey, muſt follow after: You have fry'd my mother in ſtekes by this time, And you would have my Lambe ſtones and ſweet-bread To inch out your commons. Come backe, or I will force thee.