The Seven Champions of Christendom · chunk 28 of 43
Kirke, John · published 1638 · first performed or written 1635 [1634-1638] (Annals) romance · Red Bull Company (second) · Red Bull unassigned nearest T14 Royal love, favour and dynastic relation · 489 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T14: prince, princess, love, king, lord, queen, madam, grace, lady, life.
Follow me slave, we'll in, and with this Immured blade, that I set free, cut out my passage through the Gates of horror: the enchantment's done, and George's happy fate Some Christians may redeem from tyrant's hate. Well, I were best run away, while I have legs to carry me: he's a good loving Master, this same honest George, but he does lead me into more quarrels and dangers than all the roaring Davids in the world; but they are cowardly rascals, & I will stay no longer, my accounts are made even, and I will back again; hay day, they are at it. Come, we are freed, let's now prepare his death, That being done, give welcome to him in confusion. O brave, that by his likeness and voice should be my Sire Suckabus, 'tis he; I'll take acquaintance of him. Who's that, the issue of my Calib? Begone afore I'll follow. He sees me, and stays a purpose to talk with me: I will put on my mother's good face, and salute him: pray sir, hoping that the like is the same, Father give me your blessing. What Suckabus? O let me kiss my boy: A blessing on my Princely son and heir. Thank you Father, I have not known myself a long time: but now your blood royal begins to plump up my veins. Have you brought me never a Letter from my Mother Queen? None my sweet son. Why that shows now, she's in her Pontificalities, in my kingdom after your decease, she never minds the sweet heir of her body, she casts me backward, as if I were unworthy to be Prince of her joys: but I shall think on't. Be patient son. You talk you know not what; have you no Carriers in your kingdom? Yes, divers. Is Hobson there, or Dawson, or Tom Long? I know not till I make inquiry. Well, do so Father; And if you find 'em, send to me by 'em; they are honest men. Not a Letter? Can Limbonia's Queen, and Duchess of Witchfordia so much forget herself, and that royal blood of hers, as not to send a Letter to me? List to me my son, and I'll show thee the cause, Why so thy mother and our royal self sent not unto thee: For hadst thou but obeyed the charge I left, Just at the parting of thy mother from thee, Thou hadst ere this been with us gentle boy, enthroned and honoured as thy Mother is: Welcomed with triumphs, shows, and fireworks: Of what we want, we shall be furnished shortly. I would you had 'em, they'd give much content; Oh I do love those things a life i'faith. Have you any squibs in your Country? any Green-men in your shows, and Whizers upon lines, Jack Pudding upon Rope, or Sis in fireworks? But pray father let me know why you did not send.
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)
Follow me ſlave, wee'le in, and with this Immur'd blade, that I ſet free, cut out my paſſage through the Gates of horror: the inchantment's done, and Georges happy fate Some Chriſtians may redeeme from Tyrants hate. Well, I were beſt runne away, while I have legges to carry me: he's a good loving Maſter, this ſame honeſt George, but he does lead me into more quarrels and dangers than all the roaring Davids in the world; but they are cowardly raſcals, & I wil ſtay no longer, my accounts are made even, and I will backe agen; hay day, they are at it. Come, we are freed, lets now prepare his death, That being done, give welcome to him in confuſion. O brave, that by his likeneſſe and voyce ſhould be my Sire Suckabus, 'tis he; Ile take acquaintance of him. Who's that, the iſſue of my Calib? Begone afore I'le follow. He ſees me, and ſtayes a purpoſe to talke with me: I will put on my mothers good face, and ſalute him: pray ſir, hoping that the like is the ſame, Father give me your bleſſing. What Suekabus? O let me kiſſe my boy: A bleſſing on my Princely ſonne and heire. Thanke you Father, I have not knowne my ſelfe a long time: but now your blood royall begins to plumpe up my veines. Have you brought me never a Letter from my Mother Queene? None my ſweet ſonne. Why that ſhews now, ſhee's in her Pontificalities, in my kingdome after your deceaſe, ſhee never minds the ſweet heire of her body, ſhe caſts me backward, as if I were unworthy to be Prince of her joyes: but I ſhall think on't. Be patient ſonne. You talke you know not what; have you no Carriers in your kingdome? Yes, divers. Is Hobſon there, or Dawſon, or Tom Long? I know not till I make inquiry. Well, doe ſo Father; And if you find 'em, ſend to me by 'em; they are honeſt men. Not a Letter? Can Limbonias Queene, and Dutcheſſe of Witchfordia ſo much forget her ſelfe, and that royall blood of hers, as not to ſend a Letter to me? Liſt to me my ſonne, and Ile ſhew thee the cauſe, Why ſo thy mother and our royall ſelfe ſent not unto thee: For hadſt thou but obey'd the charge I left, Iuſt at the parting of thy mother from thee, Thou hadſt e're this beene with us gentle boy, Inthron'd and honour'd as thy Mother is: Welcom'd with tryumphs, ſhows, and fire-workes: Of what we want, we ſhall be furniſht ſhortly. I would you had 'em, they'd give much content; Oh I doe love thoſe things a life i'faith. Have you any ſquibs in your Country? any Green-men in your ſhows, and Whizers upon lines, Iacke Pudding upon Rope, or Sis in fire-workes? But pray father let me know why you did not ſend.