Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	good_a	see_v	word_n	2,862	5	3.8031	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A37424	A satyr against satyrs, or, St. Peter's vision transubstantiated by R.D.	R. D.	1680 (1680)	Wing D83; ESTC R20849	16,788	36

scant Matter not your Consumption by the house There are more Cath'lick Villains still in souse Go on brisk with your Refomation care Lay the Foundation-stone too where you are First for the Tigers make them Catholicks They be of use to worry Hereticks Or leave the Leopoards neither in the lurch But make them all Sons of the Mother-Church She 'll nurse then in her bosom for ought I know A better brood by far than she does now Well but who Names the babes udso well thought Is Cream and Oil and Salt and Spittle brought And have ye not one Madam Sir Jean with ye To do this Popish Job of Charity As touching Godfathers they need not fear There are five pat ones of you ready there Well what think you methinks 't sounds woundrous well One be call'd Peters t' other Arundell Let th' fiercest of 'um though be call'd King Lewis The rest be Staffords Bellasis and Powis So good my Lords you will come to improve Prison to th' best by such high acts of love Such glorious actions without doubt will be A further Paradox ' gainst liberty But now my Lords to shew a reverence due To such illustrious Pers'nages as you I will withdraw nor am I hither come To be unto your Lordships troublesome All tediousness you hate and matter not A long debate unless about the Plot. Then now I 'le let you ' lone for I do find out You shall be let see though I prate my brain out The seventh Babylonish Legion But here 's a troop wherein none can find blame For nothing is left of them but a name Save a few Quarters on the Gates o' th City And that 's but Staley's too the more 's the pity But they are names like quills of Porcupines And are as full as Scarlet as their sins Here every Massacre is new bepainted And every horrid Traitor new besainted Colemans St. Rope is cannoniz'd my Dons To whom the Brotherhood pay their Orisons And do their daily Vows and prayers make And partly I believe for interest sake They know their due and therefore for the nonce Still pray the Hemp to pardon them for once Here is St. Rogue St. Traytor and St. Thief St. Whitebread and St. Coleman too the chief St. Callier and St. Country Bess St. Bridget St. Ben St. Ralph St. Bob St. Ned St. Nidget St. Hoobediboody and St. Mas St Ass Good men and true all and so let them pass The eighth Babylonish Legion The next's a sort of Beasts and to declare The truth I do not well know what they are But yet I think for all their Asses ears I safely may conclude them to be Bears My reason for 't 's as plain as any prose They are so damnably led by the nose Implicite Boobies that still dance along Unto a sly-boot Fryars profit-song Brave Sons of Obedience Whose love 's so strong whose faith has such energy They 'l go to Hell t' accompany their Clergy I 'le tell you what with them is to Believe The definition al-a-mode of the Catholick Faith To pin their Faith upon a Priests Lawn slieve And the good man that night to 's whore does pawn For a night's lodging both the Soul and Lawn And she poor wretch pawns it again to Morgan But Nick is still the getter by the bargain Be you good Lads believe what the Church saith Though cursed Nonsence Verities of Faith Nay if she say that Eggs are Pudding-pies You must believ 't in spight of mouth and eyes Be stupid blocks as dull as any sticks And that 's the way to be good Catholicks But for to know the right hand from the left A Pudding-bag from a Confessor's shift Or to distinguish between Crabs and Eels If 't is not Heresie 't is on it's heels But I shall purge these beasts with holy water And there 's enough for them of din and clatter The ninth Babilonish Legion Th' next species was if I may call them so For truth they had not as much as a show Of a Religion but did defy The very notion of a Deity That is their Consciences they did controul But could not raze them quite out of their soul They all Religions equally detest Because by th' worst there is a God confest Not would they care for Popery a pin But as it gives most leave to live in sin And since 't is seen die worst Identity Is singled out the best to overthrow True Catholick Religion cannot be So harm'd as by a by-religions blow They Devil-like to give them all their due Support a false one to suppress a true And since they cannot all Religions smother They are for Popery before any other These are th' wide souls that will be sworn forsworn Carry their Consciences in Pockets torn Which Estridge-like digest the hardest stones Gulp down all Impositions flesh and bones Yes and their Consciences so stretched are As full as wide as is from hence to Ware Nay my men can wire-draw you very soon The limber-stuff as far as hence to Rome Through which the Pope the Turk and all the rest May march with all their Squadrons in a breast These quaint incarnate and these visible Devils Do do promote unseen unfelt our Evils And into every cranny of the Town The Romish Flies do skulk it up and down To see and hear and ope ' their leathern Jaws To drop each where a good word for the cause If through one Protestant party the good Tool Can set a shoulder to run down the whole He did his due then to his God away I left an L out to his Gold I 'de say Wretched Utensils fit for nought else ye sots But to be made Belzebubs pissing-pots Would I were Prophet now and could presage How th' Pope would pay you who did so engage With him in 's work when you the work survive Be kick'd for useless Drones out of the hive May he led by the dictates of his reason Hang up the Traitors though he hugs the Treason Once more would I could prophesie vile Imps When you 'd leave off to be the Devil's Pimps This to your comfort though I can foretell You 'l be no Atheists when you are in Hell The tenth and last Babilonish Legion And here is a compleat Roman Army for you But what those Thin-gut Meagres I see there Egypts seven starvling Kine bring up the rear 'T is well that these are made to back the rest They are but base Back-biters at the best These are Religions Rats that gnaw and gnaw Expecting still fat Boons drop in their Maw And though they are cramm'd full yet better featur'd They do not look nor are they better natur'd They write and rail to feed and turn their meat When 't is got down to banefull Aconite With which their Libels they bestrow I think They use their own empoyson'd gall for Ink They break their brains their rests and buttons too For an envenom'd Sacrcasm or two