Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
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A08212
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Acolastus his after-witte. By S.N.
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Nicholson, Samuel, fl. 1600-1602.
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1600
(1600)
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STC 18546; ESTC S110167
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24,028
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68
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share the ioyes that euer shall indure My bodie I bequeath vnto the earth The common Mother that first brought it forth My blessing I bequeath vnto the blade That makes the breach for grislie death to enter She shall not ride my patience like a iade If death-wrought resolution may preuent her O welcome engine of my cares releasing That kill'st Despaire to make my hopes increasing My sorrowes cares hart-breaking sighes and crosses Woes lamentations pining and despaires My teares complaints foule iniuries and losses Griefs shame misfortune and my daily feares I giue to her that now giues me this fall The sole efficient of my Funerall Let her haue time to rent her Amber haire Lether haue time to thinke on me and raue Let her haue time of fauour to despaire And skorn'd of all to liue Affections slaue Let her haue time to beg and none relieue her And euery day bring crosses more to grieue her Let her haue time to proue her friends her foes And see her olde acquaintance all forsake her Let her haue time her honest name to lose Abhorr'd of men and cursed of her Maker And euery minute let her finde a time To rue my death her vnrecalling crime My Halcyon daies of blisse and happines The milde forerunners of this fearefull storme I giue to those whom better starres doe blesse Which neuer felt the sting of womans skorne What euer else is mine disbursed be To those that liue and thinke no harme of me Come gentle knife why lingrest thou so long Come ease my sorrowes with thy fatall stroke My heart is resolute my hand is strong My lingring life more torment doth prouoke O King of graues why killst thou them abhor thee And turnst from me that now am readie for thee Auaunt thou viper I thy spite defie Where life is lou'd thou readie art to kill But neuer once thy weapons wilt applie To the redressing of a wretches ill Come trustie hand for thou must doe the deede Since other friends are fled in time of neede The Starre that first made entrance in mine eye And thence departing strooke my senses blinde Then led my heart in base captiuitie Yet to her prisoner proueth most vnkinde Witnes faire heauens she she t' is onely she That guides this hand to giue this wound to me Eub. Stay stay thy hand O Natures prodigie If blood and death must expiate thy rage Pittie thy selfe foule beast and murther me My life for thine my selfe will be thy gage Ten thousand deaths my soule indures to see Gods image wrong'd in thy mortalitie In massak'ring thy selfe whom dost thou kill But with thy bodie that immortall soule For whose redemption Christ vouchsaft to spill Those purple drops to quench the liuing coale Of his deere Fathers deepe-deserued hate And to the heauens promote thy poore estate Think'st thou by dying to preuent the paine That seemes to pinch thee in this brittle life Alas this death begets thee life againe When with thy selfe thy selfe shall be at strife When thou wilt thinke all paines consort in one And that thy selfe sustain'st them all alone O Acolastus what foule fiend of Hell Would glut his fury with thy harmeles blood Watching thy death here in some shady cell To pray vpon thy soule thy soueraigne good Looke studie sigh for grace and flye from euill Grace and resistance driues away the deuill Acolast Art thou a God a Man or else a Ghost Com'st thou from heauen where blisse solace dwell Or from the ayrie could-ingendring coast Or from the darkesome dungeon-hole of hell Or from the secret chambers of the deepe Or from the graues where breathles bodies sleepe Art thou a Hermite in this wildernes Or else some Satyre maskt in ages weeds Or by the heauens I charge thee to confesse Art thou her shape for whom my poore hart bleeds I I t' is so thou art that cruell she That wrought my death now fain'st to pittie me What bloody scene hath crueltie to act Death is the worst thy malice can inflict And thou hadst seene my soules poore cittie sackt But thy deepe policie did contradict Knowing by death my troubles should haue end Which to prolong thou mainly dost intend O be content with robbing me of life Why dost thou triumph ouer fortunes wracke The death of men determinates their strife And warres are finisht with the Cities sacke The Elephant and Dragon mortall foes Bury their hate in mutuall ouerthrowes By life my soule was pind in little ease By death I seeke my thraldome to release Then let my life thy brutish hart appease And giue me leaue at least to dye in peace O let it not be said in time to come A womans hate suruiues till day of doome Eub. Fondling I am no God nor tempting friend Nor yet the woman that could wish thee dead Know me for Eubulus thy auncient friend Witnesse this snow-white fleece vpon my head Marke my complection habite tongue and yeares How euery thing in quondam sort appeares I am no flint-hart female bloody minded Mocking thy senses with a borrowed shape But one that sees thy sense through passion blinded And sighes and seekes away for thine escape Then charme this mad infection that doth raigne In beldam fury of thy witles braine Be not as sottish as the simple sort That wracke their wits vpon misfortunes shelfe Nor yeelde thy reasons beauty-battred for t Crying God helpe yet neuer helpe thy selfe Thy crazed Shipp's not so farre runne on shore But thou maist scape and flourish as before Acolast Et tu Brute wilt thou stab Caesar too Thou art my friend and wilt not see me wrong'd I pray thee leaue me without more adoo For with my life my sorrowes are prolong'd I know thou pleasurst not in my distresse Then rob me not of deaths true happinesse Yet since in sun-shine of my better daies Thou wast a Father to my head-strong youth Training my rash-braind thoughts in reasons waies Whose words I euer found the glasse of Truth My cares shall take a truce with death so long Till I haue made thee priuie to my wrong Loe here at hand a circle-braunching tree Whose leauie bosome makes a summer seate Nature hath raisd this arbour purposely To shroude our bodies from the parching heate Here while we sit within this gloomy shade I 'le tell my Loue and how it did inuade Eub. Then yeeld me vp this irefull instrument The destin'd engine of thy tragedie T' is wisdomes rule occasions to preuent And giue no ground to Sathans trecherie Well now begin and giue thy sorrowes vent I 'le sit and mourne with thee till day be spent Mcolast To shew the poyson of my endles pining The taske is long and tedious to expresse Bright Phaebus to the Westerne deepe declining And repetition neuer made thing lesse Who rippes the rancour of old-wounded flesh In steede of healing makes it bleede a fresh Yet since the heauens are so propitious To make my friend eye-witnesse to my fall Lysten kinde
groome Whose climing thoughts at last will breake their necke God lieue my hate might helpe to build thy tombe And I suruiue to triumph on thy wracke That when the world shall see thy loue disgraced Men may beware of loue too highly placed What wanton marke of loose immodestie Could'st thou decipher in me all this while Dar'st thou presume to touch a deitie Before she grace thee with a yeelding smile thought Poore foole what starres bewitch thy wretched To fancie her that sets thee so at nought Thou seest my bodie straight as Cedar tree That fames the woods of rich Arabia My browes embost with heauens rich Heraldree Tables containing Beauties perfect lawe Mine eyes two twinkling stars whose piercing raies Haue power to dim the brightest summer daies My face the Sunne-enlightning beauties skye Whose charmefull spels the proudest can controule Loues Adamant to euery wandring eye That like a Syren can inchant the soule The shop where Nature sets her art to showe Where crimson Roses sleepe in beds of snowe Poore foolish flie why plaist thou with the flame Looke not on beautie for it soone will burne thee Shun shun the thought which may procure thy shame The fire once kindled t' is too late to turne thee I am mild Venus mongst gentilitie But fierce Medusa to thy baser eye Thy birth too base for me to beare thy name Thy person nothing hath that may commend thee Thy liuing will not let thee play such game Thy threed-bare loue full little can befriend thee Renounce thy suite roote out these fancies straight Thou art no Atlas for so great a waight Or else in sight of heauen I here protest I loue thee so to liue thy foe till death For could one kinde looke euer make thee blest First would I forced be to yeeld my breath The more thy loue the greater is thy paine I will not stay to heare thee speake againe With this she left the Melancholy place This fatall groue the bed of mine vnrest And backe vnto her fellowes hies a pace Leauing me prostrate heauily distrest Looke how a bright starre shooteth in the night So fast she fled and vanisht from my sight Farewell quoth I sweet Saint of puritie Wonder of women and the worlds admire More was I speaking but it would not be Griefe stopt my dumbe tongue with too much desire That I was forste to sigh insteede of speaking As if my swolne heart were already breaking Then brake th'vnchannel'd issue of mine eyes My teares gaue vent vnto my tired soule Who breath'd hot sighes like lightning from the skye Such is Desire which no man can controule And pining griefe still thinkes it treble wrong When heart is barr'd the aydance of the tongue Thus as a man laid speechles in a traunce Or one resembling deaths anatomie The birds in silence wondring at my chaunce Abruptly ceast their busie harmonie Till some propitious powre to ease my paine Restor'd my sense and thus I cri'd amaine O quis te nostris oculis pulcherrima Virgo Obiecit Deus visam te protinus idem Eripuit nobis saeuo vt consumerer igni Illa meo nunquam facies de pectore abibit Illam vos etiam mecum discetis amare Intonsi montes vos vmbriferae conualles Siue greges inter captabo frigus auram Flumina seu propter salices in valle putabo Aut agitans instabo aliud quodcunque tibi ante Carmina pauca canam te pectore suspirabo Toto vnam te corde priùs dediscet amare Gramina ouis nemora alta ferae vaga flumina pisces Quà m tua de nostris vellatur cura medullis O decus atque animi nostri pergrata voluptas I lookt about if any would replie Griefe best is pleasde with partners in his plaining The Damsell gone I saw no creature nye Saue trees and stones which could not know my meaning To whom shrill Eccho in pittie of my paine Records my woes and tels them o're againe And now the night with darkenes ouer-spred Had drawne her sable curtaines ore the earth And from her cole-blacke melancholy bed Sent foggie mists and filthie vapours foorth When home I went poore haples and forlorne Cursing the day that euer I was borne O blacke Despaire foule lot of faithfull Loue Blasting our hopes ere they begin to bud Whose dogged nature pittie cannot moue Nor ought can pacifie but humane blood A thousand times thou end'st a wretched life Which liues againe to pine in further strife The Nimphes and Satyrs in their ayrie bowres Dansed their Chorus but it would not please me No pastures walkes nor wreath of sweetest flowres No flocks no friends nor no delight could ease me Her doome is past intreatie could not stay it I owe Despaire a death and I must pay it This plot this place this melancholy groue I singled out to lay my Cares to sleepe To end my life and with my life my loue Pitty not me sweet friend forbeare to weepe Death chang'd to life I neuer shall repent That life is dead that liues in discontent Eub The weary Sunne now settles in the West And time permits not speake what I was ment This night I purpose thou shalt be my guest I 'le tell thee things perhaps to thy content And e're our Lambes lye downe to rest to morrow I 'le find a salue to counterpoise thy sorrow