Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	body_n	head_n	part_n	1,461	5	4.4830	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A36759	The mock-tempest, or, The enchanted castle acted at the Theatre Royal / written by T. Duffett.	Duffett, Thomas.; Shadwell, Thomas, 1642?-1692. Tempest.; Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616. Tempest.	1675 (1675)	Wing D2448; ESTC R11449	35,407	66

the Devil and all by us Alon. We should out-stink French Cheese Gon. O help help here 's Raw-head and Bloody bones the Master Cook of Hell A noise of horrid Musick a Devil arises with a Crown of Fire Sings Arise arise ye Subterranean Feinds Come claw the backs of guilty hinds And all ye filthy Drabs and Harlots rise Which use t' infect the Earth with Puddings and hot Pies Rise ye who can devouring glasses frame By which Wines pass to th' hollow Womb and Brain Engender Head-akes make bold elbows shake Estates to Pimples and to desarts turne And you whose greedy flames mans very entrals burne Ye ramping queans who ratling Coaches take Though y 'ave been fluxed 'till Head and Body shake Come Clap these Wreches 'till their parts do swell Let Nature never make them well Cause Leggs and Arms to pine cause loss of hair Then make them howl with Anguish and sad groans Rise and obey rise and obey Raw head and bloody bones Exit Devils Devils arise with Bellows and blow Alonzo and Gonzalo off the Stage A Dance The End of the Second Act. Act III. Scene I. Enter Stephania with a Pitcher Beantosser and Moustrappa all drunk Steph. THere was a noble Marquess Took up his Maidens carkass Fast by the Fire side A very homely Damsel Her lips were soft as Lambs wool Or marrow Pasty-fri'd This is but a kind of a doleful Tune to beat Hemp to but hang 't le ts squeeze the Picher here 's to thee my doughty Amazon Bean. Right reverend Trot-up-and-down I 'le do thee reason here Moustrappa Steph. Come bouze it about and a fico for the Justice Fortunes a Whore and will be kind to her Sisters Mous. Of the first Five men we met Three were Iohns and Four of those were Cukolds Which is a good sign and so squeez the juice Bean. A strong point of Consolation let me kiss thee for that thou pretty pocky well favour'd Crack Sing Steph. Fill the Dish Molly And think of a Cully Here 's a health to the best Give us more Drink a Surgeon that 's jelly And a pox take the rest Molly fill We cry still Fill again and drink round 'Till we empty the Pitcher and fill up the Crown Bean. Hold hold our Sister is grown hollow hearted and like a jilting Quean forsakes us in our Tribulation Mous. 'T is ev'n what I look'd for The last Dish came as slow and frothy as the last words of a declaring Quaker Bean. When the Spirit sinks down his Throat and rattles like the departing Water in a leaky Pump Steph. Blame her not you here she is sound still ha wilt thou so Knocks the Pitcher Why that 's very fair She sayes she will do w' ye for a Groat a time 'till you are not able to stand I 'le be hang'd if the worst Jugg in Town will do cheaper Bean. Look Moustrappa Weeps Hang losses though our Dancing Schooles ruin'd we have sav'd our Instruments And as ong as Men drink and Women paint we shall still jog on Steph. There are more of our Dulcimers thump'd ev'ry Night in Covent-Garden then there are Ghittars scrap'd in a Week in Madrid therefore I say staunch thou false hearted misbeleiving Jewes-Trump do not many industrious Females live well by bidding Gentlemen welcome to Town singing at their Chamber doors Bean. And trucking their English small Wares for French Toyes Mous. O this was a dreadful bout for poor Moustrappa In robbing me they pillag'd six Brokers ruind my Credit and quite kill'd my old dealer honest Jack the Mercer for just as I had brought his Body to such a state that none else would touch him so that I could set my own rates they took me from him the French Farendine he gave me for a Gown is gone too But let the World rub when 't is at worst 't will mend Bean. The devil take thee for putting me in mind of my losses hang me if I can forbear weeping too Steph. Then thou art in danger of drowning for the water 's above thy mouth and there 's no passage by the Nose for the bridge was down long ago and so she prai'd me to tell ye Bean. My friend is a brisk French Merchant I knew him a Taylors Trotter but from 3 Ounces of Jessimy-butter halfe a Pound of Powder and 6 pair of Jessimy-Gloves by cheating the King of his Customes and his fellow Subjects of their Money he 's come to his beaten Farendine Suit ev'ry day had not this befall'n me I had reduc'd him to his first being and I had hazarded the saving of his Soul by the ruine of body and estate But he is but repreiv'd the pox will take him for he is a Termagant at laced Mutton Steph. Mischeif light on ye both for minding me of my losses there was scarce a Manchild in Town gentle or simple from Fifteen to Threescore that did not pay me Tribute When I walk'd the Streets the Shop-keepers bow'd the Prentices wink'd If five or six Gallants stood in the way Lord what rustling and cringing was there to Madam Stephania Aunt cries one how does my little Neece The Aunt and the Neece may both be damn'd for any thing you care to please me he slips a Guinny When shall we cut up the Giblet Pye cryes another Go y' are a wag cry I there 's halfe a Peece Saies a third is there never a fresh Runlet tap'd yes quoth I but you shall be hang'd e're you lick your lips with it and so she praid me to tell ye still something 's coming for every now and then slips in a close thriving Tradesman look ye Mrs. quoth he I do not use these things but the case is thus I 'le be at a word I want a Wench give me good sound ware here 's your Money ready Money I won't build Sconees and bilk you as your Gentlemen Bullies do let me have weight and measure one words as good as a thousand Well quoth I put your bus'ness into my hand I 'le use a Conscience aye and I did too for as I hope for freedome sometimes I have hardly got 8 d. in the Shilling But such were sure Customers they never left me for fear of discovery Oh! I could tell you such stories of Vestry-men and Burgesses as would make the Bells ring backwards i'faith Me and my bus'ness was the whole talke of the Town but all was kep'd secret not a word mention'd unless 't wer in some Coffee-house or the Streets But now they all forsake me but 't will rub out when 't is dry and so I squeeze Sing Tough Hemp must we beat Dry Bread must we eat And be bumbled and jumbl'd and grumbl'd at too too too And drink nothing but Wat Wat Water that 's cold Then Harry and Mary be merry and cheery as long 's we can do do do And drive away sorrow untill we are old Come bouze it about and le ts squeeze out the Pitcher He 's a Rogue that