Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	wit_n	work_n	write_v	34	3	4.3857	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A76292	Poems: by Francis Beaumont, Gent. Viz. The hermaphrodite. The remedy of love. Elegies. Sonnets, with other poems.	Beaumont, Francis, 1584-1616.; Ovid, 43 B.C.-17 or 18 A.D. Metamorphoses. English. Selections.	1653 (1653)	Wing B1602; Thomason E1236_3; ESTC R208894	79,281	207

inflam'd So jealously inrag'd then gently tam'd That I in reading have the Person seen And your Pen hath part Stage and Actor been Or shall I say that I can scarce forbeare To clap when I a Captaine do meet there So lively in his own vaine humour drest So braggingly and like himselfe exprest That Moderne Cowards when they saw him plaid Saw blusht departed guilty and betrai'd You wrote all parts right what soe're the Stage Had from you was seen there as in the Age And had their equall life Vices which were Manners abroad did grow corrected there They who poss●ss'd a box and halfe Crown spent To learne obscenenes return'd innocent And thank'd you for this coz'nage whose chast Scene Taught loves so Noble so reform'd so cleane That they who brought foule fires and thither came To bargaine went thence with a holy flame Be 't to your praise too that your Stock and veine Held both to Tragick and to Comick straine Where e're you listed to be high and grave No Busk in shew'd more solid no quill gave Such feeling objects to draw teares from eyes Spectators sate part in your Tragedies And where you lifted to be low and free Mirth turn'd the whole house into Comedy So piercing where you pleas'd hitting a fault That humours from your Pen issued all salt Nor were you thus in works and Poems knit As to be but two halfes and make one wit But as some things we see have double cause And yet the effect it selfe from both whole draws So though you were thus twisted and combin'd As two bodies to have but one faire mind Yet if we praise you rightly we must say Both joy'nd and both did wholly make the Play For that you could write singly we may guesse By the divided peeces which the Presse Hath severally set forth nor were gone so Like some our Moderne Authors made to go On meerely by the help of th' other who To purchase fame do come forth one of Two Nor wrote you so that ones part was to lick The other into shape nor did one stick The others cold Inventions with such wit As serv'd like spice to make them quick and fit Nor out of mutuall want or emptinesse Did you conspire to go still Twins to th' Presse But what thus joyned you wrote might have come forth As good from each and stor'd with the same worth That thus united them you did joyne sense In you 't was League in others Impotence And the Presse which both thus amongst us sends Sends us one Poet in a Paire of Friends On the happy Collection of Beaumont's and Fletcher's Works FLETCHER arise Usurpers share thy Bayes They Canton thy vast Wit to build small Playes He comes his Volume breaks through clouds and dust Down little Wits Ye must refund Ye must Nor comes he private here 's great BEAUMONT too How could one single World encompasse Two For these Co-heires had equall power to teach All that all Wits both can and cannot reach Shakespeare was early up and went so drest As for those dawning houres he knew was best But when the Sun shone forth You two thought fit To weare just Robes and leave off Trunk-hose-Wit Now now 't was Perfect None must looke for Now Manners and Scenes may alter but not You For Yours are not meere Humours gilded straines The Fashion lost Your massy Sense remaines Some thinke Your Wit 's of two Complexions fram'd That One the Sock th' Other the Buskin claim'd That should the Stage embattaile all its Force FLETCHER would lead the foot BEAUMONT the horse But you were Both for Both not Semi-wits Each Piece is wholly Two yet never splits Y' are not Two Faculties and one Soule still He th' Understanding Thou the quick free Will But as two Voices in one Song embrace FLETCHER'S keen Trebble and deep BEAUMONTS Base Two full Congeniall Soules still both poevail'd His Muse and Thine were Quarter'd not Impal'd Both brought Your Ingots Both toyl'd at the Mint Beat melted sifted till no drosse stuck in 't Then in each Others scales weigh'd every graine Then smooth'd and burnish'd then weigh'd all againe Stampt Both your Names upon 't at one bold Hit Then then 't was Coyne as well as Bullion Wit Thus Twinns But as when Fate one Eye deprives That other strives to double which survives So BEAUMONT dy'd yet left in Legacy His Rules and Standard-wit FLETCHER to Thee Still the same Planet though not fill'd so soon A Two-horn'd Crescent then now one Full-Moon Joynt Love before now Honour doth provoke So the old Twin Giants forcing a huge Oake One slipp'd his footing th' other sees him fall Grasp'd the whole Tree and single held up all Imperiall FLETCHER here begins thy Raign Scenes flow like Sun-beames from thy glorious Brain Thy swift dispatching Soule no more doth stay Than he that built two Cities in one day Ever brim-full and sometimes running o're To feed poore languid Wits that waite at doore Who creep and creep yet ne're above-ground stood For Creatures have most Feet which have least Blood But thou art still that Bird of Paradise Which hath no feet and ever nobly flies Rich lusty Sence such as the Poet ought For Poems if not Excellent are Naught Low wit in Scenes in state a Peasant goes If meane and flat let it foot Yeoman Prose That such may spell as are not Readers grown To whom He that writes Wit shews he hath none Brave Shakespeare flow'd yet had his Ebbings too Often above Himselfe sometimes below Thou alwaies Best if ought seem'd to decline 'T was the unjudging Rout's mistake not thine Thus thy faire SHEPHEARDESSE which the bold Heap False to Themselves and Thee did prize so cheape Was found when understood fit to be Crown'd At worst 't was worth Two hundred thousand pound Some blast thy Works lest we should track their Walke Where they steale all those few good things they talke Wit-Burglary must chide those it feeds on For Plunder'd folkes ought to be rail'd upon But as stoln goods go off at halfe their worth Thy strong Sence pall's when they purloine it forth When did'st Thou borrow where 's the man e're read Ought begg'd by Thee from those Alive or Dead Or from dry Goddesses as some who when They stuffe their page with Gods write worse than Men. Thou was 't thine own Muse and hadst such vast odds Thou out-writt'st him whose verse made all those Gods Surpassing those our Dwarfish Age upreares As much as Greeks or Latines thee in yeares The Ocean Fancy knew nor Bankes nor Damms We ebbe down dry to pebble Anagrams Dead and insipid all despairing sit Lost to behold this great Relapse of Wit What strength remaines is like that wild and fierce Till Johnson made good Poets and right Verse Such boyst'rous Trifles Thy Muse would not brooke Save when she 'd show how scurvily they looke No savage Metaphors things rudely Great Thou dost display not butcher a Conceit Thy Nerves have Beauty which

Farewell false love thy tongue is ever telling Lye after Lye For ever let me rest now from thy Smarts Alas for pitty go And fire their hearts That have been hard to thee mine was not so Never againe deluding love shall know me For I will dye And all those griefes that thinke to over-grow me Shall be as I For ever will I sleepe while poore maids cry Alas for pitty stay And let us dye With thee men cannot mock us in the day The third Song CCome hither you that love and heare me sing Of Joyes still growing Greene fresh and lusty as the Pride of Spring And ever blowing Come hither youths that blush and dare not know What is desire And old men worse than you that cannot blow One sparke of fire And with the power of my enchanting Song Boyes shall be able men and old men yong Come hither you that hope and you that cry Leave off complaining Youth Strength and beauty that shall never dye Are here remaining Come hither fooles and blush you stay so long From being blest And Mad men worse than you that suffer wrong Yet seeke no rest And in an houre with my enchanting Song You shall be ever pleas'd and young maids long Songs to the Play called The Beggers Bush The first Song CAst our Caps and Care away this is Beggers holiday At the Crowning of our King thus we ever dance and sing In the world look out see wher so happy a Prince as he Where the Nation live so free and so merry as do we Be it peace or be it war here at liberty we are And enjoy our ease and rest to the Field we are not prest Nor are call'd into the Town to be troubled with the Gown Hang all Offices we cry and the Magistrate too by When the Subsidies encreast we are not a penny ceast Now will any goe to law with the Begger for a straw All which happinesse he brags he doth owe unto his Rags The second Song TAke her and tug her And turne her and hug her And turne againe boy againe Then if she mumble Or if her taile tumble Kisse her amaine boy amaine Do thy endeavour To take off her Feaver Then her disease no longer will raigne If nothing will serve her Then thus to preserve her Swing her amaine boy amaine Give her cold Jelly To take up her belly And once a day swing her again If she stand all these paines Then knock out her braines Her disease no longer will reigne The third Song BRing out your Cony-skins faire maids to me And hold 'em faire that I may see Gray Blacke and blew for your smaller skins I 'le give ye looking-glasses pins And for your whole Coney here 's ready ready money Come Gentle Joane do thou begin With thy blacke blacke blacke Coney-skin And Mary then and Jane will follow With their silver hair'd skins and their yellow The white Coney-skin I will not lay by For though it be faint 't is faire to the eye The Gray it is warme but yet for my money Give me the bonny bonny black Coney Come away faire maids your skins will decay Come and take money maids put your ware away Coney-skins Coney-skins have ye any Coney-skins I have fine Bracelets and fine silver pins The Prologue to the Play called The Coxcombe THis Comedy long forgot by some thought dead By us preserved once more doth raise her head And to your Noble censures does present Her outward forme and inward ornament Nor let this smell of Arrogance since 't is known The makers that confest it for their own Were this way skilfull and without the Crime Of flatteries I might say did please the time The worke it selfe too when it first came forth In the opinion of men of worth Was well receiv'd and favour'd though some rude And harsh among the Ignorant multitude That relish grosse food better than a dish That 's cook'd with care and serv'd in to the wish Of curious Pallats wanting wit and strength Truly to judge condemn'd it for the length That faults reform'd and now 't is to be tri'd Before such Judges 't will not be deny'd A free and Noble hearing nor feare I But 't will deserve to have free liberty And give you cause and with content to say Their care was good that did revive this Play The Epilogue 'T Is ended but my hopes and feare begin Nor can it be imputed as a sin In me to wish it favour if this night To the judicious it hath given light I have my ends and may such for their grace Vouchsafe to this find theirs in every place The Prologue to the Tragedy called The false One NEw Titles warrant not a Play for new The Subject being old and 't is as true Fresh and neat matter may with ease be fram'd Out of their Stories that have oft been nam'd With glory on the Stage what borrows he From him that wrought old Priams Tragedy That writes his love to Hecuba sure to tell Of Caesars amorous heats and how he fell In the Capitall can never be the same To the Judicious nor will such blame Those that penn'd this forbarrennesse when they find Young Cleopatra here and her great mind Express'd to th' height with us a Maid and free And how he rated her Virginity We treat not of what boldnesse she did dye Nor of her fatall love to Anthony What we present and offer to your view Upon their Faiths the Stage yet never knew Let reason then first to your wils give Laws And after judge of them and of their cause The Epilogue I Now should wish another had my place But that I hope to come off and with grace And but expresse some signe that you are pleas'd We of our doubts they of their feares are eas'd I would beg further Gentlemen and much say In the favour of our selves them and the Play Did I not rest assured the most I see Hate Impudence and cherish Modesty First Song to the False One a Tragedy LOok out bright Eyes and blesse the Aire Even in shaddows you are faire Shut up beauty is like fire That breakes out clearer still and higher Though your body be confin'd And lost love a pris'ner bound Yet the beauty of your mind Neither Cheeke nor Chaine hath found Looke out Nobly then and dare Even the Fetters that you weare The second Song ISis the Goddesse of this Land Bids thee great Caesar understand And marke our Customes and first know With greedy eyes these watch the flow Of plenteous Nilus when he comes With Songs with Dances Timbrels Drums They entertaine him cut his way And give his proud heads leave to play Nilus himselfe shall rise and shew His matchlesse wealth in overflow The third Song COme let us help the Reverend Nyle He 's very old alas the while Let us dig him easie waies And prepare a thousand plaies To delight his streams let 's sing A loud welcome to our spring