Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	bear_v	life_n	live_v	4,791	5	5.2156	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A36655	Notes and observations on The empress of Morocco, or, Some few errata's to be printed instead of the sculptures with the second edition of that play	Dryden, John, 1631-1700.; Shadwell, Thomas, 1642?-1692.; Crown, Mr. (John), 1640?-1712.	1674 (1674)	Wing D2320; ESTC R414	67,090	90

's routed er'e the Wars begun The rout of an Army commonly presupposes fighting but it seems this rout was so very quick that it was not onely before any Battell but before even the Warr was begun This was intended for a flight but our Poet where ever he begins his Flight is sure to end it where the Beetle does I have heard him resembled in these extraordinary sallies of his fancy to an Vnfortunate Dog leaping at a high stile and perpetually hanging by the Buttocks Muley Hamet ner'e was taught To back but head those Armyes where he fought Here I am absolutely of the Poets opinion that Muley Hamet was never taught to back an Army nor any body else of whom I ever heard I will allow Muley Hamet being a Heroe to have a back as broad as Hercules but I am confident he could never have been taught to back whole Armyes with it Draw up my Forces raise my Guard The Usurper you must know had been just told that his Army was beaten or revolted and that Muley Hamet was proclaimd King yet he talks of drawing up his Forces and raise afterwards his Guards His Blood Deare Prince shall pay for shedding thine Did his Blood shed the others Blood He by no force with stood Comes now this way to Sacrifice your Blood This Elkanah is a very Bloody Poet but he is perpetually mistaken in his wrath for to Sacrifice Blood is as improper as the former Whose Fortune and whose Sword has wonders done Whose hand and whose pen has writ false Grammar has for have He be a Monarch to act deeds like thee To act deeds is only to represent them ti 's well for him his Monarchs are Players to save the propriety of his English His Blood shall pay What to your Brothers dust I owe Her Brother was kil'd two days before he turn'd dust very quickly in a Country which preserves mummey 3000 years Though I am fall'n so low My Fortune lost I may a Begger grow That is Though my Fortune be lost yet I may grow poore and though I grow poore yet I may grow a Begger though our Authour has no wit yet he may grow a Foole. Immur'd within the Walls That is walld within the Walls I know your vertue is so strong that if You sweare you will protect my Throne and life That if is a most excellent ending of a Verse and it rhimes as well to life half he writes is such powers and adores are the very next rhymes There 's not one Dart In Heaven that would not strike the murderers heart Before his hand should touch her sacred Brest Pray answer me one civil question how could he be a murderer bafore his hand had touch'd her sacred Breast that is in your sence kil'd her And besides how comes all the Darts in Heaven to be so much concern'd that they must all strike the Murderer together then a Murderers heart is not so very large that all the Darts in Heaven can stick there this is very poeticall non-sense and these Darts are bolts I le try Whose the best Executioner Heaven or I. A man may Cry out to him with his next ensuing words Hold Barbrous Cruell hold your Murdering hands never was poore verse so Executed Executioner must be read Execus●ner to bring the verse into Compass he cuts of Syllables as the Tyrant did Legs and Feete that were too long for his Bed I le to a thousand Deaths my life expose Before I will one inch of Empire loose A Crittick can gaine no Credit from this play he can never make cleare riddance but must of necessity leave more non-sense behind him than he takes away I overpassed silent Grotto as if any Grotto talked and though your hand and Hers no Septers beares false english for beare But who ever exposed their lives to a thousand Deaths How many lives had Mariamne to expose to those thousand Deaths yet all this She will do rather then loose one inch of Empire An inch of Empire is no great matter But she is a Woman who speakes it and an inch may be somewhat to her I le travell then to some remoter Sphere Till I finde out new worlds and Crown you there I believe our learned Authour takes a Sphere for a Country so he had the Sphere of Hell in his maske before here he means the Sphere of Morocco as if Morocco were the Globe of Earth and Water and he not contented with this vniverse of Barbary would travail to the vniverse of Europe or the Sphere of Asia and Crown her there But the jeast of it is that the Earth and Water makeing but one Globe which is not a Sphere neither by his leave He will be shrewdely put to●t to travail farther You this great deeed fulfill'd To fulfil a deed most admirable English Since you at Scorn and dareing are so good very Heroicke I le sing my Funerall Obsquies in these Armes First he sings after he is dead then Funeral obsquies are very finely shortned Euphonioe Gratia buthe who perpetually curtailes Sence may be allow'd to curtaile words So immediately he says What have th' hig'r powers to do Sure Heaven acts wonders wonders no t is none First Heaven is an Actor for to act a thing and to do it are of several Significations as was said before next see how he runs out of one Number into another sure Heaven acts Wonders Wonders no t is none That is the Wonders is no Wonders A rare Gramarian So may my body rot when I am dead Till my ranck dust has such Contagion bred My grave may dart forth Plagues as may strike death Through the infected aire where thou drawst breath He meanes this for an Imprecation but makes no sense of it for he begins the sentence with so may my Body rot Now we expect as somewhat to follow but he leaves us in the Lurch he has already done his armies routed er'e the Warrs begun He will tell you he pursues till my ranck dust but till has no relation to so but supose that sense till my ranck dust has such Contagion bred by that time 't is dust it will cease to be ranck and consequently breed no Contagion if it bred none before Subjects my Homage pay but Monarcks thine To pay my Homage is to pay that Homage which is my due to another person But he meant Subjects pay me Homage and I pay it the. Then Monarchs pay thine How many Monarchs is Muley Hamet And saves her Blood to be ally'd to yours By this allyance he means Marriage But to be married and to be ally'd are as different as Cousen and Husband A Nobler passion Story never writ That turn'd a Traytor to a Proselite Put it into prose for non-sense sake Story never writ a Nobler passion That turn'd a Traytor to a Proselite How could Story write and then a Proselite is one that changes his Religion and he is the likest to make a Traytor Pilgrims go meet their

Grout such Clogging thick indigestible stuff but this is but a tast to stay the Stomach we shall have a more plentifull Mess presently Hold Sir and your unmanly fears remove Morena h●re tells the King he is fearfull and unmanly and to speak in the Poets Phrase Like a weak animal of Mortal Race Affronts her Husband to 's face But now to dish up the Poets Broth that I prom●sed For when we 'r dead and our freed Souls enlarg'd Of Natures grosser burden we are discharg'd Then gentle as a happy lovers sigh Like wandring Meteors through the Air we 'l flie And in our Airy walk as subtil Guests VVe 'l steal into our cruel Fathers Breasts There read the●r Souls and track each passions Sphere See how Revenge moves there Ambition here And in their Orbes view the dark Characters Of Sieges Ruins Murders Blood and VVars VVe●l blot out all those hideous draughts and write Pure and white forms then with a radiant light Their Breasts encircle till their passions be Gentle as Nature in its Infancy Till soften'd by our Charms their furies cease And their Revenge dissolves into a Peace Thus by our death their Quarrel ends VVhom living we made Foes dead we 'l make Friends If this be not a very liberall Mess I will refer my self to the Stomach of any moderate Guest And a rare Mess it is far excelling any VVestminster White-broth It is a kind of Giblet Porridge made of the Giblets of a couple of young Geese stodg'd full of Metiors Orbes Spheres tract hideous Draughts dark Characters White Forms and Radiant Light and designed not only to please Appetite and indulge luxury but it is also Physical being an approved Medicine to purge Choler for it is propounded by Morena as a Receipt to cure their Fathers of their Cholerick Humours and were it written in Characters as barbarous as the words might very well pass for a Doctors Bill To Conclude it is Porridge 't is a Receipt 't is a Pig with a Pudding in the belly t' is I know not what for certainly never any one that pretended to write sense had the impudence before to put such stuff as this into the mouths of those that were to speak it before an Audience whom he did not take to be all Fools and after that to Print it too and expose it to the examination of the World But let us see what we can make of this stuff For when we r dead and our freed Souls enlarg'd Here he tells us what it is to be dead it is to have our free'd Souls set free Now if to have a Soul set free is to be dead then to have a free'd Soul set free is to have a dead man die Then gentle as a happy lovers sigh They two like one sigh and that one sigh like two wandring Meteors Shall fly through the Air. That is they shall mount above like falling Stars or else they shall skip like two Iacks with Lanthorns or Will with a Wisp and Madge with a Candle And in their Airy walk steal into their c●uel ●athers Breasts like subtile Guests So that their Fathers Breasts must be in an Airy walk an Airy walk of a Flyer And there they will read their Souls and track the Spheres of their Passions That is these walking Flyers Iack with a Lanthorn c. will put on his Spectacles and fall a reading Souls and put on his Pumps and fall a tracking of Spheres so that he we will read and run walk and fly at the same time Oh! Nimble Iack. Then he will see how Revenge here how Ambition there The Birds will hop about And then view the dark Characters of Sieges Ruines Murders Blood and Wars in their Orbes Track the Characters to their forms Oh rare sport for Iack Never was place so full of Game as these Breasts You cannot stir but you flush a Sphere start a Character or unkennel an Orbe Then we●l blot out those hideous Draughts and write Pure and VVrite Forms Now Iack must out with his Pen and Ink and fall a scribling of White Forms with intent I suppose to Conjure the Game Then incircle their Breast with radiant light till their Passions be gentle as nature in its Infancy Now Iack must round the bush with his Lanthorn till the Birds are so dead he may take them up with his hand Or to speak in our Poets Phrase As gentle Nature as in its Infancy Which in the latter end of the Third Act he says was wild savage and strong but I suppose he means as gentle as wild savage and strong things can be as if I should say his Play is as full of sense as a Play all non-sense can be Then soften'd by our Charms their furies ●ease c. Now Iacks sport is at an end and the old people are quiet No wonder they were troublesome when they had all this bustle in their Bellies and now Iack and Madge may go marry But me thinks these are a kind of humour some people both Fathers and Childten that the fathers will not be reconciled nor their Children marry till the Children are become Ignes fatuus's Helena Castor and Pollux's fiery Whirlegiggs and no body knows what By all these Orbes Characters hideous Draughts c. it seems as if our Poet would set up for a Teutonique Philosopher a second Iacob Bhemen and because he is conscious to himself he cannot write any tollerable sense he subtilly wraps up empty and insignificant stuff in big and barbarous Phrase to confound people and make them believe he conceals some notable meaning which they cannot discover But the best of it is all that know our Poet are sufficiently assured he cannot be guilty of so wise a Plot And to Conclude this is the best sense that he can write As this intollerable stuff has had the luck to please some Fools though of them but few So it infinitely pleases Mulylabas who presently cries out Oh! generous Princess whose couragious Breath c. Oh witty Creat●re What fine whim whams and Conumdrums hast thou in thy Head And thus he proceeds in his senseless transports The antient world did but too modest prove In giving a Divinity to love A Divinity is a triflling thing Love ought to have been something above a Divinity though what thing that is no body can tell for it has no name neither indeed can there such a thing be yet that thing Love is whether such a thing can be or no and that for this most excellent Reason Love the great power of th' higher world controuls Heaven but creates but love refines our Souls The very Reason that proves directly the contrary for certainly to Create is much more than to Refine but thus does our Poet perp●tually argue when he offers at reasoning as if his Brains were turn'd the wrong side outward and the whole world appeared chim cham to him perfectly contrary to what it is Hold your tears Confound my hopes Oh! my presaging