The Seven Champions of Christendom · chunk 30 of 43
Kirke, John · published 1638 · first performed or written 1635 [1634-1638] (Annals) romance · Red Bull Company (second) · Red Bull unassigned nearest T13 Knights, squires and ladies · 502 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T13: knight, raph, lady, knights, george, master, squire, rafe, pray, god.
Vanquished by thee: that sanguine Cross my Tablet foretold, Bloodsheds mine eyes for to behold it worn And thou that Christian Knight confounds my state: Yet as thou honour'st what I fear to see, As thou art hopeful of what's passed in me, And as thou art a Knight sworn to honour, Grant me one small request. If thy request in honour's grant stands fair, Give us the knowledge, we will see't performed, Then spare the lives of these two harmless men. Which I secured by safety of my charms. Are they not practised in thy horrid Art? Christian no. The happier men: rise, we have no hate against ye. Live still in honour, courteous Christian Knight. Now Ormandine quit this my grant With one request from me. 'tis yours; say on. I crave the knowledge of your former being, Before you found the path of your destruction. Know then, that Island seated in the Main, Whose crostic sides points to Barbary's kingdom, Was I once Duke of, the nearest parts to it is this Of Tartary, the other is Arabia, whose Kings disturbed My peace and government: Briefly, by flight we saved our Lives; and to revenge those wrongs I practised on this Art, And since have lived scourges to both those Kings: My Tablet and Pillar then erected, through whose hardness Stuck that tempered blade; the riddles date on't did so strange appear, That I thought ever, ever to live here. And now you shall behold another Christian Knight, Sent from the Tartar King, by oath enjoined to fetch my Head, this did I deem the man, hath brought what you have, My confusion, but missing of my fears, I entertained him fair, Yet dreading still lest he might prove the man, My Art hung on his eyes these charms of sleep, Which till I expiate, can never wake: His name is David, and a Britain Knight. Ha, my brother! Prepare thee Ormand, this shall wake him. Hold, do not with crimson purple your white blade With such a handsel: give me but leave to mount Yond storied steps, and you shall see brave Archers hit me sure: Think not that I must live, would you life give, Be good unto my friends: I fallen, take up your friend & hence. Well to your Fate: farewell. Oh are you aiming, 'twas time I came, you had Fetched me else: so, so, we are met. He that sells bliss, and would in this Art shine, At last shall pay for't, as did Ormandine. So, farewell Ormandine; wake David, wake. Is the Enchantment past? where is this fiend, this devil? Ormandine, your charms no longer shall prevail on me. No more, they shall not noble Britain Knight, See who with joy embrace thee in his arms. Brother of England, far-renown George, Am I a second time enlarged by thee? I shall pay Time a death indebted to thy valour. Do not engage so far, Who knows what haps attend our next adventure?
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)
Vanquiſht by thee: that ſanguine Croſſe my Tablet foretold, Blood-ſheds mine eyes for to behold it worne And thou that Chriſtian Knight confounds my ſtate: Yet as thou honourſt what I feare to ſee, As thou art hopefull of what's paſt in me, And as thou art a Knight ſworne to honour, Grant me one ſmall requeſt. If thy requeſt in honours grant ſtands faire, Give us the knowledge, we will ſee't perform'd, Then ſpare the lives of theſe two harmleſſe men. Which I ſecur'd by ſafety of my charmes. Are they not practis'd in thy horrid Art? Chriſtian no. The happier men: riſe, we have no hate againſt yee. Live ſtill in honour, courteous Chriſtian Knight. Now Ormandine quit this my grant▪ With one requeſt from me. 'tis yours; ſay on. I crave the knowledge of your former being, Before you found the path of your deſtruction. Know then▪ that Iſland ſeated in the Maine, Whoſe croſticke ſides poynts to Barbaries kingdome, Was I once Duke of, the neareſt parts to it is this Of Tartary, the other is Arabia, whoſe Kings diſturb'd My peace and government: Briefely, by flight we ſav'd our Lives; and to revenge thoſe wrongs I practic'd on this Art, And ſince have liv'd ſcourges to both thoſe Kings: My Tablet and Piller then erected, through whoſe hardneſſe Stuck that temper'd blade; the riddles date on't did ſo ſtrange appeare, That I thought ever, ever to live here. And now you ſhall behold another Chriſtian Knight, Sent from the Tartar King, by oath enjoynd to fetch my Head, this did I deeme the man, hath brought what you have, My confuſion, but miſſing of my fears, I entertaind him faire, Yet dreading ſtill leaſt he might prove the man, My Art hung on his eyes theſe charmes of ſleepe, Which till I expiate, can never wake: His name is David, and a Brittaine Knight. Ha, my brother! Prepare thee Ormand, this ſhal wake him. Hold, do not with crimſon purple your white blade With ſuch a hancell: give me but leave to mount Yon ſtoried ſteps, and you ſhall ſee brave Archers hit me ſure: Thinke not that I muſt live, would you life give, Be good unto my friends: I falne, take up your friend & hence. Well to your Fate: farewell. Oh are you aiming, twas time I came, you had Fetcht me elſe: ſo, ſo, we are met. He that ſels bliſſe, and would in this Art ſhine, At laſt ſhall pay for't, as did Ormandine. So, farewell Ormandine; wake David, wake. Is the Inchantment paſt? where is this fiend, this divel? Ormandine, your charmes no longer ſhall prevaile on me. No more, they ſhall not noble Brittaine Knight, See who with joy imbrace thee in his armes. Brother of England, farre-renowned George, Am I a ſecond time enlarg'd by thee? I ſhall pay Time a death indebted to thy valour. Doe not engage ſo farre, Who knows what haps attend our next adventure?