Prince. I am black Prince of Paradine, born of high renown,
Soon will I fetch thy lofty courage down.
Cry grace, thou Irish conqueror of toads and frogs,
Give me thy sword, or else I'll give thy carcase to the dogs.
St. Patrick. Now, Prince of Paradine, where have you been?
And what fine sights pray have you seen?
Dost think that no man of thy age
Dares such a black as thee engage?
Stand off, thou black Morocco dog, or by my sword thou'lt die,
I'll pierce thy body full of holes, and make thy buttons fly.
[They fight. The Prince of Paradine is slain.]
St. Patrick. Now Prince of Paradine is dead,
And all his joys entirely fled,
Take him and give him to the flies.
That he may never more come near my eyes.
[Enter King of Egypt.]
King. I am the King of Egypt, as plainly doth appear;
I am come to seek my son, my only son and heir.
St. Patrick. He's slain! That's the worst of it.
King. Who did him slay, who did him kill,
And on the ground his precious blood did spill?
St. Patrick. I did him slay, I did him kill,
And on the ground his precious blood did spill.
Please you, my liege, my honour to maintain,
As I have done, so would I do again.
King. Cursed Christian! What is this thou hast done?
Thou hast ruined me, slaying my only son.