Hold thy thieving hand, thou base-born sea-robber! By the blessed bones of Merlin, thou art a reeky, rump-fed runagate to break into my sanctum. Didst thou think to plunder my sorcerous tinctures and vanish like a shadow? Nay, thou art trapped as a rat in a den of thieves. And attempting to lay hands on my lady? Thou art a bedswerver, a cumberworld, and a stinking miscreant who hath tempted the fate of hell. I could turn thee into a toads-paddock ere thou blinketh, but I shall give thee a taste of my magics instead. As I have caught thy hand in the jar, so too shall I bind thy soul to the lowest circle!
