Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	blood_n	body_n	wine_n	1,436	5	7.7621	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A68557	Pasquils palinodia, and his progresse to the tauerne where after the suruey of the sellar, you are presented with a pleasant pynte of poeticall sherry.	Pasquil.; Fennor, William, attributed name.	1619 (1619)	STC 19453.7; ESTC S114187	15,047	32

neuer are in quiet till the score Kept by the Iaylors wife an aged mother Hath drawne them dry and then againe they vent them And in another case a new torment them And sometime cruell Sarasins doe roll them Which are so stubborn that none dare controule them Yet none of all these are more hardly vsed Then is that true good-fellow Sherry Sack If you should heare how much he is abused You needs must weepe or else remorse you lacke Trodden with feete sold like a slaue rackt iumbl'd Let bloud drawn dry and by fell Porters tumbl'd And least al these base wrongs should not prouoke him With Yesso they him purge with Lime they choake him Thus colde and comfortlesse is he confin'd Vnto a hideous Caue resembling hell Whereas the Suns bright beames yet neuer shin'd Nor can he heare Cocke crow nor sound of Bell Nor know how time doth passe for all his light Is from a Candle both by day and night And all the company which doe frequent him Are onely nimble Spirits that torment him Late in the night when most men are asleepe And few are stirring but theeues catts and crickets Into the vault the Iaylor downe doth creepe Where how he deales with bung-holes with spickets I cannot tell yet some men doe relate He makes these strangers proue adulterate And that 's the cause when women thereof tast They fall to lewdnesse and become vnchast For to beget a wise well featur'd childe Some haue prescrib'd that men must vse good dyet With vnsound meate the body is defilde And with bad Wine the humours made vnquiet Good wine doth breed good bloud which makes me thinke If wiues are naught t is long of naughty drinke For Woman is by kinde a vertuous creature If vicious potions doe not change her nature From these close Seller iumblings doe arise Great harmes and much annoyance to mans body For false impostur'd wines doe hurt the eyes And turne a wise man oft into a noddy Within the braine vile excrements they gather Which vnto most diseases are the Father As deafenesse rheums coughs gouts distillations Convulsions palsies itch and inflamations These are the cause of quarrells and debate Wrath Wounds Disorder Lust and fornication For note how long men drinke immaculate And honest Wine without sophistication So long mad passion is stayde Reasons slaue But when the Drawer once doth play the knaue And makes his Wine dishonest and turne whore Then presently the Boyes begin to rore And now I call to minde a pretty Tale My Tutor told me when I was a Boy Of some old Souldiers if I doe not faile He cald them Greekes that sackd the Towne of Troy The sacking was by base compounded Sacks Which laid the Troians sencelesse on their backs And euer since good Fellowes for the same True Troians and mad Greekes haue had to name Where Troy did stand I almost haue forgot Vnlesse it was where London now is seated For sure no Troian better lou'd the pot Nor with old Sack hath oftner beene defeated Than hath our Citty-Troian yet I gather It stood about the I le of Tenet rather For as I well remember he did say The Island Tenedos stood in the way But let the Poets place it where they will And tell of doughty warriors cladin Steele How stiffe Achilles did stout Hector kill And drag'd his body beastly by the heele These are but fictions for the truth is plaine The Troians were but drunk there was none slaine And what wise man will say they were not drunk To fight ten yeares about a restie Punke But when the Souldiers were with Sack suppressed And some of them lay weltring in their goare And some on Beds and Benches fowlie dressed So gap'd for breath that one might heare them snore And all the drunken Troians were asleepe In their disgorged pickle laid to steepe Homewards the merry Greekes returned singing Yet hauing little cause to boast their winning For hereupon blinde Homer tells a fable Of wonders that befell in their retire How Circe with a potion execrable Conuerted them to hogs be-dawb'd in mire And how the Syren with her pleasant laies Sung sweetly vnto them whom she betraies Whereas the Morall is that wine compounded At Mermaide into swine those Greeks confounded T is not the virgin liquor of the grape That turnes a man into a filthy swine A Goate an Asse a Lyon or an Ape Such beastly fruits spring neuer from the Vyne Brisk blushing Claret and faire maiden Sherry Make men couragious louing wise and merry It is adulterous wine that playes the Puncke And robs men of their reason being drunke By this time I suppose you may coniecture What this darke Dungeon is and that the house Of which my Muse hath read so long a Lecture Is nothing but a Schoole where men carrouse And learne to drinke a little common-wealth Where euery man is free to drinke a health And none denide that can discharge the score In briefe it is a Tauerne and no more The strangers there captiu'd you well discouer As being with them doubtlesse well acquainted And therefore vainely to recite them ouer My Muse of surplussage would be attainted Yet of their Iaylor I must needes complaine Which doth with so great strictnesse them restrain That without money none their sight comes neer And then attir'd in Pewter they appeare The Bush did wag the Dog did shake his tayle When first my Muse and I approach'd the wicket The Drawers bid vs welcome and al-haile And ask't what was our pleasures with the spicket I cald for their directions how to finde From whence the voyce was to mine eares inclin'd When straight anon a nimble Mercurie Brought vs vp staires among good companie It was the day of all dayes in the yeare That vnto Bacchus hath his dedication When mad braynd Prentises that no men feare O'rethrow the dens of bawdie recreation When Tailors Coblers Plaist'rers Smiths Masons And euery Rogue will beate down Barbers Basons Whereat Don Constable in wrath appeares And runs away with his stout Halberdiers It was the day whereon both rich and poore Are chiefely feasted with the selfe same dish When euery Paunch till it can hold no more Is Fritter-fild as well as heart can wish And euery man and maide doe take their turne And tosse their Pancakes vp for feare they burne And all the Kitchin doth with laughter sound To see the Pancakes fall vpon the ground It was the day when euery Kitchin reekes And hungry bellies keepe a Iubile When Flesh doth bid adew for diuers weekes And leaues old Ling to be his deputie Though carnall Libertines are so inclin'd That still they loue to tast what is confin'd For all their humors are so violent They 'le rather fast at Easter than in Lent It was the day when Pullen goe to block And euery Spit is fil'd with belly Tymber When Cocks are cudgel'd down with many a knock And Hens are thrasht to