The Seven Champions of Christendom · chunk 35 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 · 509 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T14: prince, princess, love, king, lord, queen, madam, grace, lady, life.
How weary am I with this foraging, Yet cannot find my hunted prey come in: Have I a truce granted to a fruitful Kingdom, And her chief City, not a mile from hence Upon condition I should spare his City, Self, and people, to have my quick provision hunted Into my Iron nets, and do they break and baffle thus? Is Bear and Lion food too good for me? Why then I see I must take pains to march, And with my Iron Mace, pound, pash, and mortar them And City too: oh the net is fall'n, 'Tis well you keep your league. How now, what scarecrow's that? A sleeping Dormouse in my Castle walls: how got he in? I have no other Porter than myself, And through the keyhole sure he could not crawl; How or which way should this small spy get in? Sirrah awake, or with one fillip of my Iron Mace, I'll send eternal sleep to seize on thee: Awake you dog. ay, ay, you say very well Father, 'tis true indeed, And then watch him asleep, and kindly cut his throat. How? cut my throat? I shall prevent ye slave: Wren of deformity awake I say. I hear a rumbling noise, I'll e'en pack up my trinkets, and begone: Oh Lord what will become of me! I have wished myself to have my brains beat out. What art thou worm? An't please you Sir, I am a Prince, a sweet young Prince, my Father's name is Tarpax, Prince of the grisly North, my mother's name was Calib, Queen of Limbonia, and Duchess of Witchfordia. Perish thy father and thy mother, as thyself shall: Slave how got'st thou in? I flew over the Castle wall. Bird of the Devil, where's your wings to fly? If you will give me leave, you shall see me fly the same way back again. No my fine Pigeon, I will clip your wings: Come to my cauldron, come I'll see how finely you can Flutter there, it reeks and bubbles, there I'll plunge thee in, there shalt thou play my pig. Till thou art fine, soft, plump, and tender sod, And then I'll pick thy bones my dainty bird. O Lord, what shall become of me? boiled, O Lord, the very terror of that word, hath thrust the charm quite from my head, that Charm would save me; oh sweet father now or never help me, and save a Prince from boiling, a boyld Prince is his meat else. Dispatch my bird. O sweet father, now, now, now I go else, Boiled: oh the thought of that word: O I ha''t, Sweet Father I thank thee, Has put that Charm into my head Shall make 'em all in love with me: Now I care not. Why when I say? Splagnalis squirtis pampistis. The Giant in a maze lets fall his Club. Ha! The beams of wonder shoots into mine eyes, And love and pity hath surprised my heart. Oh sweet father, now he's mine sure, and I will domineer.
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)
How weary am I with this forraging, Yet cannot finde my hunted prey come in: Have I a truce granted to a fruitfull Kingdome, And her chiefe City, not a mile from hence Vpon condition I ſhould ſpare his City, Selfe, and people, to have my quicke proviſion hunted Into my Iron nets, and doe they breake and baffle thus? Is Beare and Lyon food too good for me? Why then I ſee I muſt take paines to march, And with my Iron Mace, pound, paſh, and morter them And City too: oh the net is falne, 'Tis well you keepe your league. How now, what ſcare-Crow's that? A ſleeping Dormouſe in my Caſtle walls: how got he in? I have no other Porter than my ſelfe, And through the key-hole ſure he could not craule; How or which way ſhould this ſmall ſpie get in? Sirrah awake, or with one phillip of my Iron Mace, Ile ſend eternall ſleepe to ſieze on thee: Awake you dog. I, I, you ſay very well Father, 'tis true indeed, And then watch him aſleepe, and kindly cut his throat. How? cut my throat? I ſhall prevent yee ſlave: Wren of deformity awake I ſay. I heare a rumbling noyſe, Ile e'ne packe up my trinkets, and begon: Oh Lord what will become of me! I have wiſht my ſelfe to have my braines beate out. What art thou worme? An't pleaſe you Sir, I am a Prince, a ſweete young Prince, my Fathers name is Tarpax, Prince of the griſly North, my mothers name was Calib, Queene of Limbonia, and Dutches of Witchfordia. Periſh thy father and thy mother, as thy ſelfe ſhall: Slave how gotſt thou in? I flew over the Caſtle wall. Bird of the Divell, where's your wings to flye? If you will give me leave, you ſhall ſee me flye the ſame way backe agen. No my fin Pidgeon, I will clip your wings: Come to my Caldron, come Ile ſee how finely you can Flutter there, it reekes and bubbles, there Ile plunge thee in, there ſhalt thou play my Pige. Till thou art fine, ſoft, plumpe, and tender ſod▪ And then Ile picke thy bones my dainty bird. O Lord, what ſhall become of me? boyld, O Lord, the very terrour of that word, hath thruſt the charme quite from my head, that Charme would ſave me; oh ſweet father now or never helpe me, and ſave a Prince from boyling, a boyld Prince is his meate elſe. Diſpatch my bird. O ſweete father, now, now, now I goe elſe, Boyld: oh the thought of that word: O ha't, Sweete Father I thanke thee, Has put that Charme into my head Shall make 'em all in love with me: Now I care not. Why when I ſay? Splagnalis ſquirtis pmpiſtis. The Giant in a maze lets fall his Club. Ha! The beames of wonder ſhootes into mine eyes, And love and pitty hath ſurpriz'd my heart. Oh ſweete father, now he's mine ſure, and I will domineere.