Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	great_a	king_n	son_n	2,904	5	5.0346	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A36625	Fables ancient and modern translated into verse from Homer, Ovid, Boccace, & Chaucer, with orginal poems, by Mr. Dryden.	Dryden, John, 1631-1700.; Ovid, 43 B.C.-17 or 18 A.D.; Chaucer, Geoffrey, d. 1400.; Boccaccio, Giovanni, 1313-1375.; Homer.	1700 (1700)	Wing D2278; ESTC R31983	269,028	604

him a Bow or his from Cupid take away Time glides along with undiscover'd haste The Future but a Length behind the past So swift are Years The Babe whom just before His Grandsire got and whom his Sister bore The Drop the Thing which late the Tree inclos'd And late the yawning Bark to Life expos'd A Babe a Boy a beauteous Youth appears And lovelier than himself at riper Years Now to the Queen of Love he gave Desires And with her Pains reveng'd his Mother's Fires THE FIRST BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAS The First Book of Homer's Ilias The ARGUMENT Chryses Priest of Apollo brings Presents to the Grecian Princes to ransom his Daughter Chryseis who was Prisoner in the Fleet. Agamemnon the General whose Captive and Mistress the young Lady was refuses to deliver her threatens the Venerable Old Man and dismisses him with Contumely The Priest craves Vengeance of his God who sends a Plague among the Greeks Which occasions Achilles their Great Champion to summon a Council of the Chief Officers He encourages Calchas the High Priest and Prophet to tell the Reason why the Gods were so much incens'd against them Calchas is fearful of provoking Agamemnon till Achilles engages to protect him Then embolden'd by the Heroe he accuses the General as the Cause of all by detaining the Fair Captive and refusing the Presents offer'd for her Ransom By this Proceeding Agamemnon is oblig'd against his Will to restore Chryseis with Gifts that he might appease the Wrath of Phoebus but at the same time to revenge himself on Achilles sends to seize his Slave Briseis Achilles thus affronted complains to his Mother Thetis and begs her to revenge his Injury not only on the General but on all the Army by giving Victory to the Trojans till the ungrateful King became sensible of his Injustice At the same time he retires from the Camp into his Ships and withdraws his Aid from his Country-men Thetis prefers her Son's Petition to Jupiter who grants her Sute Juno suspects her Errand and quarrels with her Husband for his Grant till Vulcan reconciles his Parents with a Bowl of Nectar and sends them peaceably to Bed THe Wrath of Peleu's Son O Muse resound Whose dire Effects the Grecian Army found And many a Heroe King and hardy Knight Were sent in early Youth to Shades of Night Their Limbs a Prey to Dogs and Vulturs made So was the Sov'reign Will of Jove obey'd From that ill-omen'd Hour when Strife begun Betwixt Atrides Great and Thetis God-like Son What Pow'r provok'd and for what Cause relate Sow'd in their Breasts the Seeds of stern Debate Jove's and Latona's Son his Wrath express'd In Vengeance of his violated Priest Against the King of Men who swoln with Pride Refus'd his Presents and his Pray'rs deny'd For this the God a swift Contagion spread Amid the Camp where Heaps on Heaps lay dead For Venerable Chryses came to buy With Gold and Gifts of Price his Daughters Liberty Suppliant before the Grecian Chiefs he stood Awful and arm'd with Ensigns of his God Bare was his hoary Head one holy Hand Held forth his Laurel Crown and one his Sceptre of Command His Suit was common but above the rest To both the Brother-Princes thus address'd Ye Sons of Atreus and ye Grecian Pow'rs So may the Gods who dwell in Heav'nly Bow'rs Succeed your Siege accord the Vows you make And give you Troys Imperial Town to take So by their happy Conduct may you come With Conquest back to your sweet Native Home As you receive the Ransom which I bring Respecting Jove and the far-shooting King And break my Daughters Bonds at my desire And glad with her Return her grieving Sire With Shouts of loud Acclaim the Greeks decree To take the Gifts to set the Damsel free The King of Men alone with Fury burn'd And haughty these opprobrious Words return'd Hence Holy Dotard and avoid my Sight E'er Evil intercept thy tardy Flight Nor dare to tread this interdicted Strand Lest not that idle Sceptre in thy Hand Nor thy God's Crown my vow'd Revenge withstand Hence on thy Life The Captive-Maid is mine Whom not for Price or Pray'rs I will resign Mine she shall be till creeping Age and Time Her Bloom have wither'd and consum'd her Prime Till then my Royal Bed she shall attend And having first adorn'd it late ascend This for the Night by Day the Web and Loom And homely Houshold-task shall be her Doom Far from thy lov'd Embrace and her sweet Native Home He said The helpless Priest reply'd no more But sped his Steps along the hoarse-resounding Shore Silent he fled secure at length he stood Devoutly curs'd his Foes and thus invok'd his God O Source of Sacred Light attend my Pray'r God with the Silver Bow and Golden Hair Whom Chrysa Cilla Tenedos obeys And whose broad Eye their happy Soil surveys If Smintheus I have pour'd before thy Shrine The Blood of Oxen Goats and ruddy Wine And Larded Thighs on loaded Altars laid Hear and my just Revenge proptious aid Pierce the proud Greeks and with thy Shafts attest How much thy Pow'r is injur'd in thy Priest He pray'd and Phoebus hearing urg'd his Flight With Fury kindled from Olympus Height His Quiver o'er his ample Shoulders threw His Bow twang'd and his Arrows rattl'd as they flew Black as a stormy Night he rang'd around The Tents and compass'd the devoted Ground Then with full Force his deadly Bowe he bent And Feather'd Fates among the Mules and Sumpters sent Th'Essay of Rage on faithful Dogs the next And last in Humane Hearts his Arrows fix'd The God nine Days the Greeks at Rovers kill'd Nine Days the Camp with Fun'ral Fires was fill'd The Tenth Achilles by the Queens Command Who bears Heav'ns awful Sceptre in her Hand A Council summon'd for the Goddess griev'd Her favour'd Hoast shou'd perish unreliev'd The Kings assembl'd soon their Chief inclose Then from his Seat the Goddess-born arose And thus undaunted spoke What now remains But that once more we tempt the warry Plains And wandring homeward seek our Safety hence In Flight at least if we can find Defence Such Woes at once encompass us about The Plague within the Camp the Sword without Consult O King the Prophets of th' event And whence these Ills and what the Gods intent Let them by Dreams explore for Dreams from Jove are sent What want of offer'd Victims what Offence In Fact committed cou'd the Sun incense To deal his deadly Shafts What may remove His settled Hate and reconcile his Love That he may look propitious on our Toils And hungry Graves no more be glutted with our Spoils Thus to the King of Men the Hero spoke Then Calchas the desir'd Occasion took Calchas the sacred Seer who had in view Things present and the past and Things to come foreknew Supream of Angurs who by Phoebus taught The Grecian Pow'rs to Troy's Destruction brought Skill'd in the secret Causes of their Woes The Reverend Priest in graceful

aright Th' invenom'd Shaft and wings the fatal Flight Thus fell the foremost of the Grecian Name And He the base Adult'rer boasts the Fame A Spectacle to glad the Trojan Train And please old Priam after Hector slain If by a Female Hand he had foreseen He was to die his Wish had rather been The Lance and double Axe of the fair Warrious Queen And now the Terror of the Trojan Field The Grecian Honour Ornament and Shield High on a Pile th' Unconquer'd Chief is plac'd The God that arm'd him first consum'd at last Of all the Mighty Man the small Remains A little Urn and scarcely fill'd contains Yet great in Homer still Achilles lives And equal to himself himself survives His Buckler owns its former Lord and brings New cause of Strife betwixt contending Kings Who Worthiest after him his Sword to weild Or wear his Armour or sustain his Shield Ev'n Diomede sate Mute with down-cast Eyes Conscious of wanted Worth to win the Prize Nor Menelas presum'd these Arms to claim Nor He the King of Men a greater Name Two Rivals only rose Laertes Son And the vast Bulk of Ajax Telamon The King who cherish'd each with equal Love And from himself all Envy wou'd remove Left both to be determin'd by the Laws And to the Grecian Chiefs transferr'd the Cause THE SPEECHES OF AJAX AND ULYSSES FROM Ovid's Metamorphoses BOOK XIII THE SPEECHES OF AJAX AND ULYSSES THE Chiefs were set the Soldiers crown'd the Field To these the Master of the sevenfold Shield Upstarted fierce And kindled with Disdain Eager to speak unable to contain His boiling Rage he rowl'd his Eyes around The Shore and Grecian Gallies hall'd a-ground Then stretching out his Hands O Iove he cry'd Must then our Cause before the Fleet be try'd And dares Ulysses for the Prize contend In sight of what he durst not once defend But basely fled that memorable Day When I from Hector's Hands redeem'd the flaming Prey So much 't is safer at the noisy Bar With Words to flourish than ingage in War By different Methods we maintain our Right Nor am I made to Talk nor he to Fight In bloody Fields I labour to be great His Arms are a smooth Tongue and soft Deceit Nor need I speak my Deeds for those you see The Sun and Day are Witnesses for me Let him who fights unseen relate his own And vouch the silent Stars and conscious Moon Great is the Prize demanded I confess But such an abject Rival makes it less That Gift those Honours he but hop'd to gain Can leave no room for Ajax to be vain Losing he wins because his Name will be Enobled by Defeat who durst contend with me Were my known Valour question'd yet my Blood Without that Plea wou'd make my Title good My Sire was Telamon whose Arms employ'd With Hercules these Trojan Walls destroy'd And who before with Jason sent from Greece In the first Ship brought home the Golden Fleece Great Telamon from AEacus derives His Birth th' Inquisitor of guilty lives In Shades below where Sysiphus whose Son This Thief is thought rouls up the restless heavy Stone Just AEacus the King of Gods above Begot Thus Ajax is the third from Jove Nor shou'd I seek advantage from my Line Unless Achilles it were mix'd with thine As next of Kin Achilles Arms I claim This Fellow wou'd ingraft a Foreign Name Upon our Stock and the Sysiphian Seed By Fraud and Theft asserts his Father's Breed Then must I lose these Arms because I came To fight uncall'd a voluntary Name Nor shun'd the Cause but offer'd you my Aid While he long lurking was to War betray'd Forc'd to the Field he came but in the Reer And feign'd Distraction to conceal his Fear Till one more cunning caught him in the Snare Ill for himself and drag'd him into War Now let a Hero's Arms a Coward vest And he who shun'd all Honours gain the best And let me stand excluded from my Right Rob'd of my Kinsman's Arms who first appear'd in Fight Better for us at home had he remain'd Had it been true the Madness which he feign'd Or so believ'd the less had been our Shame The less his counsell'd Crime which brands the Grecian Name Nor Philoctetes had been left inclos'd In a bare Isle to Wants and Pains expos'd Where to the Rocks with solitary Groans His Suff'rings and our Baseness he bemoans And wishes so may Heav'n his Wish fulfill The due Reward to him who caus'd his Ill. Now he with us to Troy's Destruction sworn Our Brother of the War by whom are born Alcides Arrows pent in narrow Bounds With Cold and Hunger pinch'd and pain'd with Wounds To find him Food and Cloathing must employ Against the Birds the Shafts due to the Fate of Troy Yet still he lives and lives from Treason free Because he left Vlysses Company Poor Palamede might wish so void of Aid Rather to have been left than so to Death betray'd The Coward bore the Man immortal Spight Who sham'd him out of Madness into Fight Nor daring otherwise to vent his Hate Accus'd him first of Treason to the State And then for proof produc'd the golden Store Himself had hidden in his Tent before Thus of two Champions he depriv'd our Hoast By Exile one and one by Treason lost Thus fights Vlysses thus his Fame extends A formidable Man but to his Friends Great for what Greatness is in Words and Sound Ev'n faithful Nestor less in both is found But that he might without a Rival reign He left this faithful Nestor on the Plain Forsook his Friend ev'n at his utmost Need Who tir'd and tardy with his wounded Steed Cry'd out for Aid and call'd him by his Name But Cowardice has neither Ears nor Shame Thus fled the good old Man bereft of Aid And for as much as lay in him betray'd That this is not a Fable forg'd by me Like one of his an Vlyssean Lie I vouch ev'n Diomede who tho' his Friend Cannot that Act excuse much less defend He call'd him back aloud and tax'd his Fear And fure enough he heard but durst not hear The Gods with equal Eyes on Mortals look He justly was forsaken who forsook Wanted that Succour he refused to lend Found ev'ry Fellow such another Friend No wonder if he roar'd that all might hear His Elocution was increas'd by fear I heard I ran I found him out of Breath Pale trembling and half dead with fear of Death Though he had judg'd himself by his own Laws And stood condemn'd I help'd the common Cause With my broad Buckler hid him from the Foe Ev'n the Shield trembled as he lay below And from impending Fate the Coward freed Good Heav'n forgive me for so bad a Deed If still he will persist and urge the Strife First let him give me back his forfeit Life Let him return to that opprobrious Field Again creep under my protecting Shield Let him lie wounded let the Foe be near And let his

quiv'ring Heart confess his Fear There put him in the very Jaws of Fate And let him plead his Cause in that Estate And yet when snatch'd from Death when from below My lifted Shield I loos'd and let him go Good Heav'ns how light he rose with what a bound He sprung from Earth forgetful of his Wound How fresh how eager then his Feet to ply Who had not Strength to stand had Speed to fly Hector came on and brought the Gods along Fear seiz'd alike the Feeble and the Strong Each Greek was an Vlysses such a Dread Th' approach and ev'n the sound of Hector bred Him flesh'd with Slaughter and with Conquest crown'd I met and over-turn'd him to the Ground When after matchless as he deem'd in Might He challeng'd all our Hoast to single Fight All Eyes were fix'd on me The Lots were thrown But for your Champion I was wish'd alone Your Vows were heard we Fought and neither yield Yet I return'd unvanquish'd from the Field With Jove to friend th' insulting Trojan came And menac'd us with Force our Fleet with Flame Was it the Strength of this Tongue-valiant Lord In that black Hour that sav'd you from the Sword Or was my Breast expos'd alone to brave A thousand Swords a thousand Ships to save The hopes of your return And can you yield For a sav'd Fleet less than a single Shield Think it no Boast O Grecians if I deem These Arms want Ajax more than Ajax them Or I with them an equal Honour share They honour'd to be worn and I to wear Will he compare my Courage with his Slight As well he may compare the Day with Night Night is indeed the Province of his Reign Yet all his dark Exploits no more contain Than a Spy taken and a Sleeper slain A Priest made Pris'ner Pallas made a Prey But none of all these Actions done by Day Nor ought of these was done and Diomed away If on such petty Merits you confer So vast a Prize let each his Portion share Make a just Dividend and if not all The greater part to Diomed will fall But why for Ithacus such Arms as those Who naked and by Night invades his Foes The glitt'ring Helm by Moonlight will proclaim The latent Robber and prevent his Game Nor cou'd he hold his tott'ring Head upright Beneath that Motion or sustain the Weight Nor that right Arm cou'd toss the beamy Lance Much less the left that ampler Shield advance Pond'rous with precious Weight and rough with Cost Of the round World in rising Gold emboss'd That Orb would ill become his Hand to wield And look as for the Gold he stole the Shield Which shou'd your error on the Wretch bestow It would not frighten but allure the Foe Why asks he what avails him not in Fight And wou'd but cumber and retard his Flight In which his only Excellence is plac'd You give him Death that intercept his hast Add that his own is yet a Maiden-Shield Nor the least Dint has suffer'd in the Field Guiltless of Fight Mine batter'd hew'd and bor'd Worn out of Service must forsake his Lord. What farther need of Words our Right to sean My Arguments are Deeds let Action speak the Man Since from a Champion's Arms the Strife arose So cast the glorious Prize amid the Foes Then send us to redeem both Arms and Shield And let him wear who wins 'em in the Field He said A Murmur from the Multitude Or somewhat like a stiffled Shout ensu'd Till from his Seat arose Laertes Son Look'd down awhile and paus'd e'er he begun Then to th' expecting Audience rais'd his Look And not without prepar'd Attention spoke Soft was his Tone and sober was his Face Action his Words and Words his Action grace If Heav'n my Lords had heard our common Pray'r These Arms had caus'd no Quarrel for an Heir Still great Achilles had his own possess'd And we with great Achilles had been bless'd But since hard Fate and Heav'ns severe Decree Have ravish'd him away from you and me At this he sigh'd and wip'd his Eyes and drew Or seem'd to draw some Drops of kindly Dew Who better can succeed Achilles lost Than He who gave Achilles to your Hoast This only I request that neither He May gain by being what he seems to be A stupid Thing nor I may lose the Prize By having Sense which Heav'n to him denies Since great or small the Talent I enjoy'd Was ever in the common Cause employ'd Nor let my Wit and wonted Eloquence Which often has been us'd in your Defence And in my own this only time be brought To bear against my self and deem'd a Fault Make not a Crime where Nature made it none For ev'ry Man may freely use his own The Deeds of long descended Ancestors Are but by grace of Imputation ours Theirs in effect but since he draws his Line From Jove and seems to plead a Right Divine From Jove like him I claim my Pedigree And am descended in the same degree My Sire Laertes was Arcesius Heir Arcesius was the Son of Jupiter No Paricide no banish'd Man is known In all my Line Let him excuse his own Hermes ennobles too my Mother's Side By both my Parents to the Gods ally'd But not because that on the Female Part My Blood is better dare I claim Desert Or that my Sire from Paricide is free But judge by Merit betwixt Him and Me The Prize be to the best provided yet That Ajax for awhile his Kin forget And his great Sire and greater Uncles Name To fortify by them his feeble Claim Be Kindred and Relation laid aside And Honours Cause by Laws of Honour try'd For if he plead Proximity of Blood That empty Title is with Ease withstood Peleus the Hero's Sire more nigh than he And Pyrrhus his undoubted Progeny Inherit first these Trophies of the Field To Scyros or to Pthya send the Shield And Teucer has an Uncle's Right yet he Waves his Pretensions nor contends with me Then since the Cause on pure Desert is plac'd Whence shall I take my rise what reckon last I not presume on ev'vy Act to dwell But take these few in order as they fell Thetis who knew the Fates apply'd her Care To keep Achilles in disguise from War And till the threat'ning Influence were past A Woman's Habit on the Hero cast All Eyes were couzen'd by the borrow'd Vest And Ajax never wiser than the rest Found no Pelides there At length I came With proffer'd Wares to this pretended Dame She not discover'd by her Mien or Voice Betray'd her Manhood by her manly Choice And while on Female Toys her Fellows look Grasp'd in her Warlike Hand a Javelin shook Whom by this Act reveal'd I thus bespoke O Goddess born resist not Heav'ns Decree The fall of Ilium is reserv'd for Thee Then seiz'd him and produc'd in open Light Sent blushing to the Field the fatal Knight Mine then are all his Actions of the Wat Great Telephus was conquer'd by

Se ye not her that crowned is qd she All in white Madame qd I yes That is Diane goddes of chastity And for bicause that she a maiden is In her hond the braunch she bereth this That Agnus castus men call properly And all the ladies in her company Which ye se of that hearb chaplets weare Be such as han kepte alway her maidenhede And all they that of laurer chaplets beare Be such as hardy were and manly indeed Victorious name which neuer may be dede And all they were so worthy of ther hond In her time that none might hem withstond And tho that weare chapelets on ther hede Of fresh woodbind be such as neuer were To loue vntrue in word thought ne dede But aye stedfast ne for pleasance ne fere Thogh that they shuld their harts all to tere Would neuer flit but euer were stedfast Till that their liues there asunder brast Now faire Madame qd I yet I would pray Your ladiship if that it might be That I might know by some maner way Sith that it hath liked your beaute The trouth of these ladies for to tell me What that these knights be in rich armour And what tho be in greene and weare the flour And why that some did reuerence to the tre And some vnto the plot of floures faire With rizt good will my fair doughter qd she Sith youre desire is good and debonaire Tho nine crowned be very exemplaire Of all honour longing to chiualry And those certaine be called the nine worthy Which ye may se riding all before That in her time did many a noble dede And for their worthines ful oft haue bore The crowne of laurer leaues on their hede As ye may in your old bookes rede And how that he that was a conquerour Had by laurer alway his most honour And tho that beare bowes in their hond Of the precious laurer so notable Be such as were I woll ye vnderstond Noble knights of the round table And eke the douseperis honourable Which they bare in the signe of victory It is witnes of their dedes mightily Eke there be knights old of the Garter That in her time did right worthily And the honour they did to the laurer Is for by they haue their laud wholly Their Triumph eke and marshall glory Which vnto them is more parfit riches Then any wight imagine can or gesse For one leafe giuen of that noble tre To any wight that hath done worthily And it be done so as it ought to be Is more honour than any thing earthly Witnes of Rome that founder was truly Of all knighthood and deeds maruelous Record I take of Titus Liuius And as for her that crowned is in greene It is Flora of these floures goddesse And all that here on her awaiting beene It are such that loued idlenes And not delite of no busines But for to hunt and hauke and pley in medes And many other such idle dedes And for the great delite and pleasaunce They haue to the floure and so reuerently They vnto it do such obeisaunce As ye may se now faire Madame qd I If I durst aske what is the cause and why That knightes haue the signe of honour Rather by the leafe than by the floure Sothly doughter qd shee this is the trouth For knights euer should be perseuering To seeke honour without feintise or slouth Fro we le to better in all maner thing In signe of which with leaues aye lasting They be rewarded after their degree Whose lusty green May may not appaired be But aye keping their beauty fresh and greene For there nis storme that may hem deface Haile nor snow wind nor frosts kene Wherefore they haue this propertie and grace And for the floure within a little space Woll be lost so simple of nature They be that they no greuance may endure And euery storme will blow them soone away Ne they last not but for a season That if their cause the very trouth to say That they may not by no way of reason Be put to no such occupacion Madame qd I with all mine whole seruise I thanke you now in my most humble wise For now I am acertained throughly Of euery thing I desired to know I am right glad that I haue said sothly Ought to your pleasure if ye will me trow Qd. she ayen but to whom doe you owe Your seruice and which woll ye honour Tell me I pray this year the leafe or the floure Madame qd I though I least worthy Vnto the leafe I owe mine obseruaunce That is qd she right well done certainly And I pray God to honour you auaunce And kepe you fro the wicked remembraunce Of male bouch and all his crueltie And all that good and well condicioned be For here may I no lenger now abide I must follow the great company That ye may see yonder before you ride And forth as I couth most humbly I tooke my leue of her as she gan hie After hem as fast as euer she might And I drow homeward for it was nigh night And put all that I had seen in writing Vnder support of them that lust it to rede O little booke thou art so vnconning How darst thou put thy selfe in prees for drede It is wonder that thou wexest not rede Sith that thou wost ful lite who shall behold Thy rude langage ful boistoufly vnfold THE WIFE OF BATHE'S TALE As it was written by GEFFREY CHAUCER The ARGUMENT A Batcheler of King Arthur's Court is enjoyned by the Queen to tell what thing it is that women most desire At length he is taught it by an old Woman who for that cause is enforced to marry her IN the old daies of king Artour Of which the Bretons speaken great honour All was this lond fulfilled of fairy The Else quene with her ioly company Daunsed full oft in many a grene mede This was the old opinion as I rede I speake of many an hundred yere ago But now can no man se none elfes mo For now the great charite and praiers Of limitours and other holy 〈◊〉 That serchen euery land and euery streme As thicke as motes in the Sunne beme Blissing halles chambers kitchens and boures Citees borowes castelles and hie toures Thropes bernes shepens and deiries This maketh that there been no fairies For there as wont to walke was an Elfe There walketh now the limitour himselfe In vndermeles and in mornynges And saieth his Mattins and his holy thinges As he goeth in his limitacioun Women may go safely vp and doun In euery bush and vnder euery tre There nis none other Incubus but he And he ne will doen hem no dishonour And so fell it that this kyng Artour Had in his house a lusty batcheler That on a day come riding fro the riuer And happed that alone as he was borne He saw a maid walkyng him biforne Of which maid anon maugre her hed By very force he biraft her maidenhed For which