Selected quad for the lemma: book_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
book_n	lord_n	name_n	write_v	5,698	5	5.8489	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
B05024	Familiar letters. Vol. II. Containing thirty six letters, / by the Right Honourable John, late Earl of Rochester. Printed from his original papers. With letters and speeches, by the late Duke of Buckingham, the Honourable Henry Savile, Esq; Sir George Etherridge, to several persons of honour. And letters by several eminent hands.	Rochester, John Wilmot, Earl of, 1647-1680.; Savile, Henry, 1642-1687.; Brown, Thomas, 1663-1704.; Buckingham, George Villiers, Duke of, 1628-1687.	1699 (1699)	Wing R1748; ESTC R182833	66,393	222

for certain But that worthy Knight-Errant Mr. W that Mirrour of Chivalry for all wrong'd Ladies drew his Tongue in your Defence and I Madam had the Honour to be his Sancho Pancho in your Justification But how long we shall be able to stand our Ground I can't tell unless you 'll come and lug out too and then I don't doubt but we shall make our Party good Now you must know Madam One good turn deserves another there 's a Proverb again I stand as much in need of your Weapon as you can do of mine Here 's a scoundrel Play come out lately by which the Author has been pleas'd to bring all the Reverend Ladies of the Town upon his Back with my Lady at the Head of 'em for saying An old Bawd was good for nothing But that is not all his Misfortune there 's a younger Knot who having grimac'd themselves into the Faction of Piety say 'T is a wicked Play and a Blasphemous Play and a Beastly Filthy Bawdy Play and so never go to it but in a Mask Dear Mrs. S come to Town again quickly and don 't put your Country-tricks upon us any longer for here 's a World of Mischief in your Absence The V is Leaner than ever I am grown Religious My Lord W is going to be Married Sir John Fenwick is going to be Hanged The W. L is Boarded by a Sea-Officer The Lady Sh is Storm'd by a Land one Yel has got a high Intrigue and the P has got the Gripes For God's sake come to Town quickly You see all 's in Disorder nor are things much better in the Country as I hear For 't is said the Spirit of Wedlock haunts Folks in Shropshire and has play'd the Devil with the Flesh Some-body swore by t'other Day you were Married to whom I have forgot tho' that was sworn too But pray let 's see you here again and don't tell us a Scripture-story That you have married a Husband and can't come the Excuse you see was not thought good even in those Days when things wou'd pass on Folks that won't now My due Respects to the Mayor and Corporation of S To the Lord H Paris Octob. 21. 1681. NOw things mend my Lord and an Italian Abbot makes a good Pimp His only Fault is he 's damn'd hard of Hearing a Shout in another Man's Ear is but a Whisper in his A vile Quality for a Bawd However he 's a Person of Business and one of his Belles Dames is a better Sophister than you are for you pretend but to argue Fornication no Sin whilst she proves it a Vertue and all L apart wou'd for the down-right sake of Religion Her Case is this She 's a Sister of the String tickles a Guitar to a Miracle and that she gets her Living by Her Beauty her Modesty her Wit and her Youth would help her to a better Livelihood if her Conscience would give her leave to lay about her like the rest of her Sex but her Inclinations being Upwards and having a sower Contempt of this vile Earth she desires to give her self to her good God and saunter out her Days in a Nunnery But she wants Five Hundred Pistoles to introduce her and that she 's willing to for She computes about a Twelve-month's Run may satisfie any Reasonable Gentleman and that he 'll then give her leave to quit that same filthy Business for a Swing of Spiritual L So if your Lordship knows ever a Knight-Errant whose Purse is as lavish as his and will both for the Relief of Distressed Vertue pray tell him this pitiful Story which is a Truth by J The French say You 'll be altogether by the Ears about six Weeks hence and that they are to go over and take Possession of some Houses and Parks that belong to Des Bougres d'Anglois qui vont a leur ordinaire se soulever contre leur Prince Naturel God send this Invasion I say 't will at least have one good Effect 't will Legitimate Adultery here which I have been seeking Arguments for in vain for if they enter our Houses Lex Talionis we whip into their Wives Rapes will be lawful too by the same Morality So pray my Lord come over for here 's like to be Work for a better than mine My Lord S has got a nauseous Mistress here a cry'd-up Beauty a slatternly Sow founder'd of both her Feet In short I hate her and so I do Everybodies but my own and her I like so well I believe I shall have my Bones broke about her before I have done there being some impertinent People akin to her who won't let her in quiet My Lord the Soup's upon the Table you 'll excuse me for there are four tall Germans about it who will swallow it down scalding hot in less time than an English-man can say Grace May Heaven preserve you still fifty Years more and kill your Father betwixt this and Christmas Je suis tout à Vous Two Days since my Lord S being in appearance at the Door of Death he repented as is usual but there is now hopes of a Return to his Health and Relapse to his Vices To Mr. T Rakehelly T JUst now stroling thro' my pocket-Pocket-Book I stumbl'd upon your Name Mrs. P 's Name Charing-cross and the Sign of the Elephant which gave Remembrance such a Bang I have made a Collection of Pen Ink and Paper with a design to be as good as my Word and write to you So the Question how I shall write and the Question whether I shall write or not are indeed become no Questions at all but the Question what I shall write is a great Question still The House of Office may perhaps help me You 'll excuse me for a Moment I am return'd and by Providence's help have done your Business as well as my own I have found six leaves of a Dutch Sermon the Title-page I have made use of the rest I send you enclos'd I don't understand much of the Language but I think it gives you an Account how many Tun of Saints the Pagans shipp'd off for the Spiritual Indies when the Christians liv'd in Holland He says the Manufacture now is quite destroy'd and the Trade is not worth a T Now you must know Parsons in this Country tell Truth in their Sermons so as to a lover of Truth and Sermons both I send you this The Postage won't cost you above half a Piece a Dog Penny-worth I think All I have to say is That this is a scoundrel Town The Dutch Women here are greasie and fat the English sawcy and ugly Here 's a great deal of Snow and very bad Fires cursed Meat and worse Company That for our Diversions As for Business My Lord W is asleep by the Fire-side Mr. Rus is picking his Nose the P ss is Quilting a Petticoat her Maids are all at their Prayers Ju is Expounding the Revelations B t is writing of Libels the Pr is studying I

Heart even so take it over my Life since it offends you and affords me no Comfort How can you imagine that one bereft of his Soul can survive its Absence No more can you the Possibility of mine and at the same time be convinc'd of the Reality of my Passion These Twelve Months at least have I been endeavouring to cast off my Chains and to quit a Cause which I cou'd no more hope to triumph in than I had to be happy without it but find as impossible as to abandon my Breath and retain my Vital Motion I conjure you Madam by all the Ties of Nature pity me and the mischievous Circumstances of my ill Fortune that has plac'd me in a Sphere which can no more entitle me to your esteem than encourage my Presumption But pardon me Madam if I wish Fortune had been less benevolent to you that I might have given you a more ample Evidence of my Passion and my self a greater Prospect of Success and believe assuredly 't wou'd be the greatest Inhumanity in the World in ceasing to kill or ceasing to make me the happiest of your Humble Servants Adieu To a Gentleman in Cambridge Honest SAM SInce you are so stout I 'll be so too and pick your Pocket of two Pence a thing I hope excusable in a Friend But perhaps you 'll say Some People have a plaguy deal of Impudence to call themselves so since you give 'em no encouragement by your Letters but at the same time that does not suppress this Impudence For what 's bred in the Bone will never out of the Flesh and so there 's a Proverb for you Why I 'll promise thee Sam I wish thou d'st pick my Pocket after such a friendly manner But I see absent Acquaintance are as little thought of as past Iniquities and the Devil of Forgetfulness reigns as much in Cambridgeshire as that of Poverty does in London However I heartily wish thee void of both for these Devils are bloody things to be dispossess'd when they have once got a footing As an Instance of which there 's a good honest Fellow has sent his Wife to the other World under the same Predicament Your Brother and I are consulting now to make you Penniless for we 're plaguily afraid that you eat so much of the Divine Banquet that you can afford none of your absent Friends so much as a Refreshment And so Honest Sam good Night to thee To T W Esq May the 19th 93. SIR T Is strange that what e're Noddle akes Some Friend or other still partakes Whoever wrote have always sought Some one for Gossip to their Thought I after hunting long in vain To vent th' Incumbrance of my Brain Like spurious Race of humble Whore Resolve to lay it at your Dore. And just as other Writers use Shall plead Prescription for Excuse For Custom that does still dispense With Universal Influence And makes things right or wrong appear Just as they do her Liv'ry wear Can justifie Impertinence And stamp it into Sterling Sence I therefore care not what I write For tho' I Scribble You Endite I treat you at Your own Expence And furnish words but You the Sence And therefore fear not to miscarry Since I am but Your Secretary For as our Eyes but passive are As learned Philosophers aver And only convey to the Mind Idea's which first there we find Yet are Themselves but Helps to see As other Optick-Glasses be So in these Lines what ever 's meant I only am Your Instrument And nothing have at my command But the meer Motion of my Hand For all the Sence You must expect Springs from Your proper Intellect The learned ' st Book that e're was wrot To him that understands it not No other prospect e're affords Then a meer Anarchy of Words For Books like all things else are good Or bad but as they 're understood And when Men quote 'em they mistake They did not find it so but make So whatsoe're from them we smatter Is but the Sense of Commentator For Words indeed altho' sown thick Like Cyphers in Arithmetick When all cast up to nothing come The Figure only make the Sum So Readers must to Books supply What feeble Characters deny And hence it is that all things sound Just as their Fancies do expound And if they take 'em in a wrong sence All Authors have been serv'd so long since Did they not make old Homer prate Of Boots and Shooes and God knows what Made him hold-forth on Philosophy And Vertues of Sage Tea and Coffee And Jests too up and down to scatter Where he thought nothing of the matter Made they not Virgil strange things write And prophesie by After-light Fore-tell the Means of our Salvation And all this by their Inspiration Make they not him Mens Fortunes tell Of which he ne're thought Syllable Pronounce the Fate of Men in Battle And of Invaders of strange Cattle Detect by Whole-sale in his Verse Thieves Pick-pockets and Conjurers And surer tell who drives that Game on Than P dge G ry or S on Mean time perhaps there 's but one Leaf Betwixt the Justice and the Thief His Worship wou'd a little later Have found it quite another matter And had been to his sole jeopardy Suspended for meer being tardy Or acted at the Rump of Cart With Spartan Patience his part Make they not Horace a stark Ass Reduc'd to Du Ballad Class Strip him of all that 's gay and witty To fit him up to doleful Ditty Tagg'd forth with miserable Rhimes From Bulks and in the Streets he chimes With Rosamond now Lydia vies And fills the Milk-maids maudlin Eyes While Hopkins is forgot and Sternhold So often chanted forth in Barn old Was not Sage Terence at adventure By Oily Shadwell turn'd to banter And taught for duller Sence of 's own The brisk gay Nonsense of the Town And his insipid Tale improv'd By what the Town and Sh ll lov'd Sh ll whose whole Stock is a Bully A Wench a Usurer a Cully From whence with little pains straightway Or Wit he oft does launch a Play As Cits with Blue secure from staining A Heroe fit on Days of Training I need not tell of late Projectors That Stories tell of Witches Spectres Hold forth with learned Theory On the Proboscis of a Flea Pursue with Microscope the Tract Of List upon a Grey-louse Back Philosophize upon Salt-waters And other much surprizing Matters Those Pedlars in all sorts of Wares That Haberdash in Love-Affairs Mechanicks Metre Politicks And forty other modish Tricks As Tumbling Jugling Vaulting Dancing Intriguing Ridling and Romancing That do with Pamphlets Epidemick Laden with Billingsgate Polemicks Confound the Jacobites and Quakers With their Adherents and Partakers To th' ruine of their Grace and quite Extinguishing their inward Light That fill Men for a Dish of Coffee With Politicks and Philosophy And for a single Penny can Instruct at once a whole Divan Of Coblers Chimney-sweepers Car-men And the whole Tribe of