Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	father_n	king_n	son_n	3,060	5	5.3359	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A63158	The Sicilian usurper a tragedy as it was acted at the Theatre-Royal : with prefatory epistle in vindication of the author, occasioned by this play on the stage / written by N. Tate.	Tate, Nahum, 1652-1715.; Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616. King Richard II.	1691 (1691)	Wing T216; ESTC R37870	40,266	69

to his Designs forbear to draw such Dangers on your Head King Be Heav'n our judge we mean him nothing fowl But shortly will with interest restore The Loan our sudden streights make necessary Weep not my Love nor drown with boding Tears Our springing Conquest bear our absence well Nor think that I have joy to part with Thee Tho never vacant Swain in silent Bowers Cou'd boast a passion so sincere as mine Yet where the int'rest of the Subject calls We wave the dearest Transports of our Love Flying from Beauty ' Arms to rugged War Conscience our first and Thou our second Care Exeunt Manent Morthumberland Piercy Ross Willoughby North. Well Lords the Duke of Lancaster is dead Will. And living too if Justice had her right For Herford then were more than a bare Name Who now succeeds departed Gaunt in nothing But in his mind 's rich Virtues the Kings pleas'd To have occasion for his temporal wealth O my heart swells but let it burst with silence Ere it be disburden'd with a liberal tongue Perc. Now rot the tongue that scants a Subjects freedom Loosers at least are priviledgd to talk And who accounts not Herfords looss his own Deserves not the esteem of Herford's friend There 's none of us here present but did weep At parting and if there be any one Whose tears are not converted now to sire He is a Crocadile North. The fate of Bullingbrook will soon be ours We hear the Tempest sing yet seek no shelter We see our wreck and yet securely perish A sure but willful Fate for had ye Spirits But worthy to receive it I cou'd say How near the tidings of our comfort is Pierc Give us thy thoughts and rate 'em as thou wilt Here 's Blood for 'em but point us to the veins That hold the richest we will empty those To purchase ' em North. Hold generous Youth This gallantry unlocks my inmost Brest Seizing a secret dearer than my heart Attend me Lords I have from Port le Blanc This very day receiv'd intelligence That our wrong'd Herford with Lord Rainold Cobham Sir Thomas Arpingham bold Sir John Rainston Sir Robert Waterton Quaint Norbery With eight tall Ships three thousand men in Arms Design with speed to touch our Northern shore If then you have a spark of British glory To imp our drooping Countries broken Wing Joyn hands with me and post to Ravenspurg Ross Now business stirs and life is worth our while Will. Nature her self of late hath broke her Order Then why should we continue our dull Round Rivers themselves refuse their wonted course Start wide or turn on their own Fountain heads Our Lawrels all are blasted rambling Meteors Affright the fixst inhabitants of Heav'n The pale fac't Moon looks bloody on the Earth And lean-lookt Prophets whisper dreadful change Pierc Away let 's post to th' North and see for once A Sun rise there the glorious Bulling-brook For our Return will not pass a thought For if our Courtiers passage be withstood We 'll make our selves a Sea and sail in Blood Exeunt Enter Queen Attended Lady Despair not Madam Queen Who shall hinder me I will despair and be at enmity With flattering hope he is a Couzener A Parasite a keeper back of Death That wou'd dissolve at once our pain and Life Which lingring hope holds long upon the Rack Yet Murders at the last the cruel'st way Lady Here comes the Duke Enter York and Servants Queen With signs of War about his aged neck And full of careful business are his looks York Death and confusion oh set my Corsleet right fetch my commanding Sword scour up the brown Bills Arm Arm Arm. Queen Now Uncle for Heav'ns sake speak comfort York Comforts in Heav'n and we are on the Earth nothing but crosses on this side of the Moon my heart stews in Choller I shall dissolve to a Gelly That your Husband shou'd have no more wit than to go a Knight Erranting whilst Rogues seize all at home and that I shou'd have no more wit than to be his Deputy at such a proper time to undertake to support a crazy Government that can scarce carry my own Fat Well Sirrah have you given my Son orders to strengthen his Forces if he prove a Flincher too Gent. My Lord I know not how he stands affected Not well I fear because at my Arrival He was withdrawn at least pretended so So that I cou'd not give him your Commands York Why so go all which way it will the Nobles are all fled and hide themselves like my ungracious Rascal or else strike in with the Rebels the Commons find our Exchequer empty and revolt too and a blessed bargain I have on 't Queen Alass my Bank and Jewels are dispos'd off For the Kings wants already and to wait Till fresh recruits come from our Fathers Court I fear will lose our Cause York Get thee to Plashy to my Sister Gloster Her Coffers I am sure are strongly lin'd Bid her send me presently 50000. Nobles Hold take my Ring fly if thou lov'st thy Head Gent. My Lord I had forgot to tell you that to day Passing by there I was inform'd But I shall grieve you to report the rest York What is 't Knave Gent. An hour before I came the Dutches Dy'd Her Son your Nephew ere her Blood was cold Makes all secure and flies to Bullingbrook York Death what a tide of woes break upon us at once Perverse Woman to take this time to Die in and the varlet her Son too to take this time to play the villain in wou'd to Heav'n the King had cut off my Head as he did my Brothers Come Sister Couzen I would say pray Pardon me if I know how to order thefe perplext Affairs I am a Sturgeon Gentlemen go Muster up your Men and meet me at Barkley Castle I should to Plashie too but time will not suffer the Wind 's cross too and will let us hear nothing from Ireland nor boots it much if they have no better News for us than we have for them All 's wrong Oh! fie hot hot Exeunt SCENE the Third The Field Flourish Enter Bullingbrook Northumberland Piercy and the Rest with their Powers Bull. And thus like Seamen scatter'd in a Storm Meet we to Revel on the safer Shore Accept my worthy Friends my dearest thanks For yet my Infant Fortunes can present Returns no Richer but when these are Ripe North. Your Presence was the Happiness we sigh'd for And now made Rich in that we seek no more Enter Ross and Willoughby Bull. My Lords y' are well return'd what News from Wales We hear that Salisbury has Levi'd there Full 40000 on the Kings behalf Ross My Lord that Cloud 's disperst the Welshmen hearing That all the North here had resign'd to you Disperst themselves and part are hither fled Will. Fortune so Labours to Confirm your Pow'r That all Attempts go cross on the Enemies side Enter York and Servants Bull. But see our

fear York Open the Door or I will force my Passage Bull. The Matter Uncle speak recover Breath York Peruse this Writing and read there my Bus'ness Aum. Remember as thou read'st thy promise past I do repent me read not my Name There My Heart is not Confederate with my Hand York 'T was Villain when thy Hand did set it down I tore it from the Traytors Bosom King Pardon the Villain do and in Return be Murder'd Bull. O heynous black Conspiracy Why Uncle can This Kindness come from Thee Let me Embrace Thee York Embrace not me It was no Kindness I owe thee no kindness It was my Love to Truth and Hate to Murder Bull. Give it what Name thou wilt it shall excuse This deadly blott in thy transgressing Son York So shall my Virtue be his Vices Bawd Thou kill'st me if he live sparing his Life The Traytor scapes the True Man 's put to Death Dutchess within Dutch What hoa my Liege for Heav'ns sake let me in Speak with me pity me Open the Door Bull. My dang'rous Cousin let your Mother in I know she 's come to Entreat for you York If thou dost pardon whosoever prays Thy Mercy makes thee Traytor to thy self Dutch O King believe not this hard-hearted Man York Thou frantick Woman what makes thee here Wilt thou once more a Traytor nourish Dutch Dear York be patient hear me gentle Liege Bull. Rise up good Aunt Dutch No never more I 'll rise 'Till thou uncharm me from the Ground with sounds Of Pardon to my poor transgressing Son Aum. And to my Pray'rs I bend my Knee York Against 'em Both my Old stiff Joynts I bend Dutch Pleads he in Earnest see his Eyes are dry His Pray'rs come from his Mouth ours from the Heart He beggs but faintly and wou'd be deny'd His weary Joynts wou'd gladly rise I know Our Knees shall bend till to the Earth they grow Deny him King he kneels in pain to crave A Boon that wou'd dismiss him to the Grave Granting his Suit the Suer you destroy But yielding ours you give your Beggar 's Joy Bull. Good Madam rise up Dutch Nay do not say rise up But pardon first and then we rise indeed The word is short but endless Comfort brings Pardon the Language both of Heav'n and Kings Bull. I pardon him as Heav'n shall pardon me Dutch Thanks Gracious Liege a God on Earth thou art Aum. Thanks Gracious Liege a God on Earth thou art York So much for that one word at parting King Let me tell thee King 't was none of these Politicks that made thee King and so farewell to Court Exit Bull. But for the Rest of this Consorted Crew Our Justice shall o're-take 'em injur'd Richard Thy wrongs already are too deep reveng●d As yet the Crown 's searce settled to my Brow When Royal Cares are rooted in my Heart Have I no Friend my Lords in this fair Train No Friend that to his Monarch's Peace will clear The Way and ridd me of this Living Fear Exit SCENE A Prison King Richard Solus Rich. I Have bin studying how to compare This lonesom Prison to the populous World The Paradox seems hard but thus I 'll prove it I 'll call my Brain the Female to my Soul My Soul the Father and these Two beget A Generation of succeeding Thoughts Th' Inhabitants that stock this little World In humours like the People of the World No Thought Contented for the better sort As Thoughts of things Divine are mixt with doubts That set the Faith it self against the Faith Thoughts tending to Ambition they are plotting Unlikely Wonders how these poor weak Hands May force a passage through these stubborn flints And cause they cannot Die in their own Pride Thoughts tending to Content are whispring to me That I am not the first of Fortunes Slaves And shall not be the Last poor flatt'ring Comfort Thus I and every other Son of Earth With nothing shall be pleas'd till we be eas'd With being nothing A Table and Provisions shewn What mean my Goalers by that plenteous Board For three days past I 've fed upon my Sighs And drunk my Tears rest craving Nature rest I 'll humour thy dire Need and tast this food That only serves to make Misfortune Live Going to sit the Table sinks down Thus Tantalus they say is us'd below But Tantalus his Guilt is then his Torture I smile at this fantastick Cruelty Ha Musick too Ev'n what my Torturers please Song and soft Musick after which a Messenger Enters Mess Hail Royal Sir with dang'rous difficulty Gives him Letters I 've enter'd here to bear These to your hand O killing Spectacle Rich. From whom my Queen My Isabell my Royal wretched Wife O Sacred Character oh Heav'n-born Saint Why here are words wou'd charm the raging Sea Cure Lunaticks dissolve the Wizzard's Spell Check baleful Planets and make Winter bloom How fares my Angel say what Air 's made rich With her arrival for she breathes the Spring What Land is by her presence priviledged From Heavn's ripe Vengeance O my lab'ring Heart Inn hide Thee and prepare in short to Answer To th'infinite Enquiries that my Love Shall make of this dear Darling of my Soul Whilst undisturb'd I seize the present Minute To answer the Contents of this blest Paper Ex. Mess Sits down to write Enter Exton and Servants Furies what means this Pageantry of Death Speak thou the foremost Murderer thy own hand Is arm'd with th' Instrument of thy own Slaughter Go Thou and fill a room in Hell Kills 4 of them Another Thou Exton here strikes him down That hand shall burn in never quenching Fire That staggers thus my Person cruel Exton The blackest Fiend shall see thee lodg'd beneath him The Damn'd will shun the Villain whose curst Hand Has with the King's blood stain'd the King's own Land Dies Ext. Hast and convey his Body to our Master Before the very Rumour reach his Ear. As full of Valour as of Royal Blood Both have I spilt O that the Deed were Good Despair already seizes on my Soul Through my dark Brest Eternal Horrours roul Ev'n that false Fiend that told me I did well Cry's now This Deed is Register'd in Hell Ex. SCENE a Palace Bullingbrook Lords and Attendants Bull. Our last Expresses speak the Rebels high Who have consum'd with Fire Our Town of Gloster Enter Northumberland and Pierce Welcome Northumberland what News North. Health to my Liege I have to London sent The Heads of Spencer Blunt and Salsbury Piere Broccas and Seelye too are headless Trunks The dang'rous Chiefs of that consorted Crew That sought your Life at Oxford Ross Our Abbot griev'd to see his Plott defeated Has yielded up his Body to the Grave But here 's Carlile yet living to receive Your Royal Doom Bull. Carlile I must confess Thô thou hast ever bin my Enemy Such sparks of Honour always shin'd in Thee As priviledg Thee from our Justice now Choose out some secret place some reverend Cell There live in peace and we shall not disturb The Quiet of thy Death what suddain Damp Congeals my Blood ha Exton then comes Mischief Enter Exton and Servants bearing in a Coffin Ext. Great Sir within this Coffin I present Thy bury'd Fear possess the Crown secure Which breathless Richard never more will claim Bull. Exton I thank thee not for thou hast wrought A Deed of Slaughter fatal for my Peace Which Thou and I and all the Land shall rue Ext. From your own Mouth my Lord did I this Deed. Bull. They love not Poyson that have need of Poyson Nor do I Thee I hate his Murderer Tho' I did wish him Dead Hell thank thee for it And guilt of Royal Blood be thy Reward Cursing and Curst go wander through the World Branded like Cain for all Mankind to shun Thee Wake Richard wake give me my Peace agen And I will give Thee back thy ravisht Crown Come Lords prepare to pay your last Respects To this great Hearse and help a King to Mourn A King 's untimely Fall O tort'ring Guilt In vain I wish The happy Change cou'd be That I slept There and Richard Mourn'd for Me. EPILOGUE Spoken by M ris Cook NOw we expect to hear our rare Blades say Dam ' me I see no Sense in this dull Play Thô much of it our abler Judges know Was famous Sense 'bove Forty Years ago Sometimes we fail to Please for want of Witt i th' Play but more for want on 't in the Pitt For many a ruin'd Poëts Work 't wou'd Save Had you but half the Sense you think you have Poets on your Fore-Fathers pam'd dull Plays And shrewdly you revenge it in our Days In troth we fare by 't as your Tradesmen do For whilst they raise Estates by Cheating You Into Acquaintance with their Wives you fall And get 'em Graceless Sons to spend it All. 'T is plain Th' are Yours Cause All our Arts miscarry For just like You They 'll Damn before they 'll Marry Of honest Terms I now almost Despair Unless retriev'd by some rich Yeoman's Heir In Grannam's Ribbans and his Own streight Hair What Comforts such a Lover will afford Joynture Dear Joynture O the Heavenly Word But E're of You my Sparks my Leave I take For your Unkindness past these Pray'rs I make So very Constant may Your Misses be 'Till You grow Cloid for Want of Jealousie Into such Dullness may your Poëts Tire 'Till They shall write such Plays as You Admire May You instead of Gaming Whoring Drinking Be Doom'd to your Aversion Books and Thinking And for a Last Wish What I 'm sure Tou'l Call The Curse of Curses Marriage Take ye All. FINIS * Epst Ded. to the Span. Fryar