Selected quad for the lemma: book_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
book_n	call_v	king_n	read_v	1,665	5	6.0207	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A11145	The noble souldier. Or, A contract broken, justly reveng'd A tragedy. Written by S.R.	Rowley, Samuel, d. 1633?; Dekker, Thomas, ca. 1572-1632, attributed name.; Day, John, 1574-1640?	1634 (1634)	STC 21416; ESTC S116260	30,620	64

when man and woman are put together some egge of villany is sure to be sate upon Exit Bal. What would you say to him should kill this man That hath you so dishonoured Onae. Oh I woo'd crowne him With thanks praise gold and tender of my life Bal. Shall I bee that Germane Fencer and beat all the knocking boyes before me shall I kill him Onae. There 's musick in the tongue that dares but speak it Bal. That Fiddle then is in me this arme can doo 't by ponyard poyson or pistoll but shall I doo 't indeed Onae. One step to humane blisse is sweet revenge Bal. Stay what made you love him Onae. His most goodly shape Marryed to royall vertues of his mind Bal. Yet now you would divorce all that goodnesse and why For a little lechery of revenge it 's a lye the Burre that stickes in your throat is a throane let him out of his messe of kingdomes cut out but one and lay Sicilia Arragon Naples or any else upon your trencher and you 'll prayse Bastard for the sweetest wine in the world and call for another quart of it 'T is not because the man has left you but because you are not the woman you would be that mads you A shee-cuckold is an untameable monster Onae. Monster of men thou art thou bloudy villaine Traytor to him who never injur'd thee Dost thou professe Armes and art bound in honour To stand up like a brazen wall to guard Thy King and Country and wood'st thou ruine both Bal. You spurre me on too 't Onæ. True Worse am I then the horrid'st fiend in hell To murder him whom once I lou'd too well For tho I could runne mad and teare my haire And kill that godlesse man that turn'd me vile Though I am cheated by a perjurous Prince Who has done wickednesse at which even heauen Shakes when the Sunne beholds it O yet I 'de rather Ten thousand poyson'd ponyards stab'd my brest Than one should touch his bloudy slave I 'le play My selfe the Hangman and will Butcher thee If thou but prick'st his finger Bal. Saist thou me so give me thy goll thou art a noble girle I did play the Devils part and roare in a feigned voyce but I am the honestest Devill that ever spet fire I would not drinke that infernall draught of a Kings blood to goe reeling to damnation for the weight of the world in Diamonds Onae. Art thou not counterfeit Bal. Now by my skarres I am not Onae. I 'le call thee honest Souldier then and woo thee To be an often Visitant Bal. Your servant Yet must I be a stone upon a hill For tho I doe no good I 'le not lye still Exeunt Actus Tertius Scaena Prima Enter Malateste and the Queene Mal. WHen first you came from Florence wud the world Had with an universal dire ecclipse Bin ouer whelm'd no more to gaze on day That you to Spaine had never found the way Here to be lost for ever Quee. We from one Climate Drew inspiration as thou then hast eyes To read my wrongs so be thy head an Engine To raise up ponderous mischiefe to the height And then thy hands the Executioners A true Italian spirit is a ball Of Wild-fire hurting most when it seemes spent Great ships on small rockes beating oft are rent And so let Spaine by us but Malateste Why from the Presence did you single me Into this Gallery Mal. To shew you Madam The picture of your selfe but so defac'd And mangled by proud Spanyards it woo'd whet A sword to arme the poorest Florentine In your just wrongs Quee. As how let 's see that picture Mal. Here 't is then Time is not scarce foure dayes old Since I and certaine Dons sharp-witted fellowes And of good ranke here with two Iesuits Grave profound Schollers in deepe argument Of various propositions at the last Question was mov'd touching your marriage And the Kings precontract Quee. So and what followed Mal. Whether it were a question mov'd by chance Or spitefully of purpose I being there And your owne Country-man I cannot tell But when much tossing Had bandyed both the King and you as pleas'd Those that tooke up the Rackets in conclusion The Father Iesuits to whose subtile Musicke Every care there was tyed stood with their lives In stiffe defence of this opinion Oh pardon me if I must speake their language Quee. Say on Mal. That the most Catholike King in marrying you Keepes you but as his whore Quee. Are we their Theames Mal. And that Medina's Neece Onaelia Is his true wife her bastard sonne they said The King being dead should claim and weare the Crown And whatsoever children you shall beare To be but bastards in the highest degree As being begotten in Adultery Quee. We will not grieve at this but with hot vengeance Beat downe this armed mischiefe Malateste What whirlewinds can we raise to blow this storme Backe in their faces who thus shoot at me Mal. If I were fit to be your Counsellor Thus would I speake Feigne that you are with childe The mother of the Maids and some worne Ladies Who oft have guilty beene to court great be May tho it be not so get you with childe With swearing that 't is true Quee. Say 't is beleev'd Or that it so doth prove Mal. The joy thereof Together with these earth-quakes which will shake All Spaine if they their Prince doe dis-inherit So borne of such a Queene being onely daughter To such a brave spirit as the Duke of Florence All this buzz'd into the King he cannot chuse But charge that all the Bels in Spaine eccho up This Ioy to heaven that Bone-fires change the night To a high Noone with beames of sparkling flames And that in Churches Organs charm'd with prayers Speake lowd for your most safe delivery Quee. What fruits grow out of these Mal. These you must sticke As here and there spring weeds in banks of flowers Spies amongst the people who shall lay their eares To every mouth and steale to you their whisperings Quee. So Mal. 'T is a plummet to sound Spanish hearts How deeply they are yours besides a ghesse Is hereby made of any faction That shall combine against you which the King seeing If then he will not rouze him like a Dragon To guard his golden fleece and rid his Harlot And her base bastard hence either by death Or in some traps of state insnare them both Let his owne ruines crush him Quee. This goes to tryall Be thou my Magicke booke which reading o're Their counterspels wee 'll breake or if the King Will not by strong hand fix me in his Throne But that I must be held Spaines blazing Starre Be it an ominous charme to call up warre Exeunt Enter Cornego Onaelia Corn. Here 's a parcell of mans flesh has beene hanging up and downe all this morning to speake with you Onae. Is 't not some executioner Cor. I see nothing about him to hang in but

this leprosie thy name Med. Monsire Doctor Deuile Kin. Shall I a second wheele adde to this mischiefe To set it faster going If one breake Th' other may keepe his motion Med. Eslelent fort boone Kin. Baltazar To give thy Sword an edge againe this French-man Shall whet them on that if thy pistoll faile Or ponyard this can send the poyson home Bal. Brother Cain wee 'll shake hands Med. In de bowle of de bloody busher t is very fine wholesome Kin. And more to arme your resolution I 'le tune this Churchman so that he shall chime In sounds harmonious Merit to that man Whose hand has but a finger in that act Bal. That musicke were worth hearing Kin. Holy Father You must give pardon to me in unlocking A Cave stuft full with Serpents which my State Threaten to poyson and it lyes in you To breake their bed with thunder of your voyce Car. How Princely sonne Kin. Suppose an universall Hot Pestilence beat her mortiferous wings O re all my kingdome am not I bound in soule To empty all our Achademes of Doctors And Aesculapian spirits to charme this plague Car. You are Kin. Or had the Canon made a breach Into our rich Escuriall downe to beat it About our eares shoo'd I to stop this breach Spare even our richest Ornaments nay our Crowne Could it keepe bullets off Car. No Sir you should not Kin. This Linstocke gives you fire shall then that strumpet And bastard breathe quicke vengeance in my face Making my kingdome reele my subjects stagger In their obedience and yet live Car. How live Shed not their bloods to gaine a kingdome greater Then ten times this Med. Pishe not mattera how Red-cap and his wit run Kin. As I am Catholike King I 'le have their hearts Panting in these two hands Car. Dare you turne Hang-man Is this Religion Catholike to kill What even bruit beasts abhorre to doe your owne To cut in sunder wedlockes sacred knot Tyed by heavens fingers to make Spaine a Bonfire To quench which must a second Deluge raine In showres of blood no water If you doe this There is an Arme Armipotent that can fling you Into a base grave and your Pallaces With Lightning strike and of their Ruines make A Tombe for you unpitied and abhorr'd Beare witnesse all you Lamps Coelestiall I wash my hands of this kneeling Kin. Rise my good Angell Whose holy tunes beat from me that evill spirit Which jogs mine Elbow hence thou dog of hell Med. Baw wawghe Kin. Barke out no more thou Mastiffe get you all gone And let my soule sleepe there 's gold peace see it done Exit Manent Medina Baltazar Cardinall Bal. Sirra you Salfa-Perilla Rascall Toads-guts you whorson pockey French Spawne of a bursten-bellyed Spyder doe you heare Monsire Med. Why doe you barke and snap at my Narcissus as if I were de Frenshe doag Bal. You Curre of Cerberus litter strikes him You 'll poyson the honest Lady doe but once toot into her Chamber-pot and I 'le make thee looke worse then a witch does upon a close-stoole Car. You shall not dare to touch him stood he here Single before thee Bal. I 'le cut the Rat into Anchovies Car. I 'le make thee kisse his hand imbrace him love him And call him Medina discovers Bal. The perfection of all Spanyards Mars in little the best booke of the art of Warre printed in these Times as a French Doctor I woo'd have given you pellets for pills but as my noblest Lord rip my heart out in your service Med. Thou art the truest Clocke That e're to time paidst tribute honest Souldier I lost mine owne shape and put on a French Onely to try thy truth and the Kings falshood Both which I find now this great Spanish volume Is open'd to me I read him o're and o're Oh what blacke Characters are printed in him Car. Nothing but certaine ruine threat your Neece Without prevention well this plot was laid In such disguise to sound him they that know How to meet dangers are the lesse afraid Yet let me counsell you not to text downe These wrongs in red lines Med. No I will not father Now that I have Anatomiz'd his thoughts I 'le read a lecture on 'em that shall save Many mens lives and to the kingdome minister Most wholesome Surgery here 's our Aphorisme These letters from us in our Neeces name You know treat of a marriage Car. There 's the strong Anchor To stay all in this tempest Med. Holy Sir With these worke you the King and so prevaile That all these mischiefes Hull with Flagging saile Car. My best in this I 'le doe Med. Souldier thy brest I must locke better things in Bal. 'T is your chest With 3 good keyes to keep it from opening an honest hart a daring hand and a pocket which scornes mony Exeunt Actus Quintus Scoena Prima Enter King Cardinall with letters Kin. COmmend us to Medina say his letters Right pleasing are and that except himselfe Nothing could be more welcome counsell him To blot the opinion out of factious numbers Onely to have his ordinary traine Waiting upon him for to quit all feares Vpon his side of us our very Court Shall even but dimly shine with some few Dons Freely to prove our longings great to peace Car. The Constable expects some pawne from you That in this Fairy circle shall rise up No Fury to confound his Neece nor him Kin. A Kings word is engag'd Car. It shall be taken Kin. Valasco call the Captaine of our Guard Bid him attend us instantly Val. I shall Kin. Lopez come hither see Letters from Duke Medina both in the name Of him and all his Faction offering peace And our old love his Neece Onaelia In marriage with her free and faire consent To Cockadillia a Don of Spaine Lop. Will you refuse this Kin. My Crowne as soone they feele their sinowy plots Belike to shrinke i' th joynts and fearing Ruine Have found this Cement out to piece up all Which more endangers all Lop. How Sir endangers Kin. Lyons may hunted be into the snare But if they once breake loose woe be to him That first seiz'd on 'em A poore prisoner scornes To kisse his Iaylor and shall a King be choak'd With sweet-meats by false Traytors no I will fawne On them as they stroake me till they are fast But in this paw And then Lop. A brave revenge The Captaine of your Guard Enter Captaine Kin. Vpon thy life Double our Guard this day let every man Beare a charg'd Pistoll hid and at a watch-word Given by a Musket when our selfe sees Time Rush in and if Medina's Faction wrastle Against your forces kill but if yeeld save Be secret Alanz. I am charm'd Sir Exit Kin. Watch Valasco If any weare a Crosse Feather or Glove Or such prodigious signes of a knit Faction Table their names up at our Court-gate plant Good strength to barre them out if once they swarme Doe this upon

's garters Onae. Sent from the King to warne me of my death I prethe bid him welcome Cor. He sayes he is a Poet Onae. Then bid him better welcome Belike he 's come to write my Epitaph Some scurvy thing I warrant welcome Sir Enter Poet Poet Madam my love presents this booke unto you Onae. To me I am not worthy of a line Vnlesse at that line hang some hooke to choake me To the Most honour'd Lady Onaelia Reads Fellow thou lyest I 'me most dishonoured Thou shouldst have writ to the most wronged Lady The Title of this booke is not to me I teare it therefore as mine Honour 's torne Cor. Your Verses are lam'd in some of their sect Master Poet Onae. What does it treat of Poet Of the sollemne Triumphs Set forth at Coronation of the Queene Onae. Hissing the Poets whirle-wind blast thy lines Com'st thou to mocke my Tortures with her Triumphs Poet 'Las Madam Onae. When her funerals are past Crowne thou a Dedication to my joyes And thou shalt sweare each line a golden verse Cornego burne this Idoll Cor. Your booke shall come to light Sir Exit Onae. I have read legends of disastrous Dames Will none set pen to paper for poore me Canst write a bitter Satyre brainlesse people Doe call 'em Libels dar'st thou write a Libell Poet I dare mix gall and poyson with my Inke Onae. Doe it then for me Poet And every line must be A whip to draw blood Onae. Better Poet And to dare The stab from him it touches he that writes Such Libels as you call 'em must lanch wide The fores of mens corruptions and even search To 'th quicke for dead flesh or for rotten cores A Poets Inke can better cure some sores Then Surgeons Balsum Onae. Vndertake that Cure And crowne thy verse with Bayes Poet Madam I le doo 't But I must haue the parties Character Onae. The King Poet I doe not love to plucke the quils With which I make pens out of a Lions claw The King shoo'd I be bitter 'gainst the King I shall have scurvy ballads made of me Sung to the Hanging Tune I dare not Madam Onae. This basenesse followes your profession You are like common Beadles apt to lash Almost to death poore wretches not worth striking But fawne with slavish flattery on damn'd vices So great men act them you clap hands at those Where the true Poet indeed doth scorne to guild A gawdy Tombe with glory of his Verse Which coffins stinking Carrion no his lines Are free as his Invention no base feare Can shake his penne to Temporize even with Kings The blacker are their crimes he lowder sings Goe goe thou canst not write 't is but my calling The Muses helpe that I may be inspir'd Cannot a woman be a Poet Sir Poet Yes Madam best of all for Poesie Is but a feigning feigning is to lye And women practise lying more than men Onae. Nay but if I shoo'd write I woo'd tell truth How might I reach a lofty straine Poet Thus Madam Bookes Musicke Wine brave Company and good Cheere Make Poets to soare high and sing most cleare Onae. Are they borne Poets Poet Yes Onae. Dye they Poet Oh never dye Onae. My misery is then a Poet sure For Time has given it an Eternity What sorts of Poets are there Poet Two sorts Lady The great Poets and the small Poets Onae. Great and small Which doe you call the great the fat ones Poet No but such as have great heads which emptied forth Fill all the world with wonder at their lines Fellowes which swell bigge with the wind of praise The small ones are but shrimpes of Poesie Onae. Which in the kingdome now is the best Poet Poet Emulation Onae. Which the next Poet Necessity Onae. And which the worst Poet Selfe-love Onae. Say I turne Poet what should I get Poet Opinion Onae. 'Las I have got too much of that already Opinion is my Evidence Iudge and Iury Mine owne guilt and opinion now condemne me I 'le therefore be no Poet no nor make Ten Muses of your nine I sweare for this Verses tho freely borne like slaves are sold I Crowne thy lines with Bayes thy love with gold So fare thou well Poet Our pen shall honour you Exit Enter Cornego Cor. The Poets booke Madam has got the Inflammation of the Livor it dyed of a burning Feaver Onae. What shall I doe Cornego for this Poet Has fill'd me with a fury I could write Strange Satyrs now against Adulterers And Marriage-breakers Cor. I beleeve you Madam but here comes your Vncle Enter Medina Alanzo Carlo Alba Sebastian Denia Med. Where 's our Neece Turne your braines round and recollect your spirits And see your Noble friends and kinsmen ready To pay revenge his due Onae. That word Revenge Startles my sleepy Soule now throughly wakend By the fresh Object of my haplesse childe Whose wrongs reach beyond mine Seb. How doth my sweet mother One. How doth my prettiest boy Alanz. Wrongs like great whirlewinds Shake highest Battlements few for heaven woo'd care Shoo'd they be ever happy they are halfe gods Who both in good dayes and good fortune share Onae. I have no part in either Carl. You shall in both Can Swords but cut the way Onae. I care not much so you but gently strike him And that my Child escape the lightning Med. For that our Nerves are knit is there not here A promising face of manly princely vertues And shall so sweet a plant be rooted out By him that ought to fix it fast i' th ground Sebastian what will you doe to him that hurts your mother Seb. The King my father shall kill him I trow Dæn. But sweet Coozen the King loves not your mother Seb. I le make him love her when I am a King Med. La you there 's in him a Kings heart already As therefore we before together vow'd Lay all your warlike hands upon my Sword And sweare Seb. Will you sweare to kill me Vncle Med. Oh not for twenty worlds Seb. Nay then draw and spare not for I love fighting Med. Stand in the midst sweet Cooz we are your guard These Hammers shall for thee beat out a Crowne If all hit right sweare therefore Noble friends By your high bloods by true Nobility By what you owe Religion owe to your Country Owe to the raising your posterity By love you beare to vertue and to Armes The shield of Innocence sweare not to sheath Your Swords when once drawne forth Onae. Oh not to kill him For twenty thousand worlds Med. Will you be quiet Your Swords when once drawne forth till they ha forc'd You godlesse perjurous perfidious man Onae. Pray raile not at him so Med. Art mad y' are idle till they ha forc'd him To cancell his late lawlesse bond he seal'd At the high Altar to his Florentine Strumpet And in his bed lay this his troth-plight wife Onae. I I that 's well pray sweare Omnes To this we sweare