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death_n body_n soul_n think_v 6,986 5 4.7772 4 false
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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A11131 Looke to it: for, Ile stabbe ye Rowlands, Samuel, 1570?-1630? 1604 (1604) STC 21398; ESTC S110756 10,018 48

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Sunne doth shine And sigh to heare but of faire-weathers name You that for nothing but deare yeeres do pray To Gentleman your Sonnes another day I le Stabbe yee Svvaggring Ruffian YOu Swagg'rer with your Hat without a band Your head beshagg'd with nittie lowsie lockes You that vpon Tabacco vertue stand Your only soueraigne Medcine for the Pockes You that weare Bootes and Ginglers at your heeles Yet whē you ride your coatch hath but two wheeles You that will meete one by the high-way side And sweare Gods woundes Deliuer me thy purse You that for Bawdy houses do prouide Though many honest true men speed the worse You that will cousen cheat tobbe kill and steale Till for your cloathes Hangman and Broker deale I le Stabbe yee Proud Gentlewomen YOu Gentle-puppets of the proudest size That are like Horses troubled with the Fashions Not caring how you do your selues disguise In sinfull shameles Hels abhominations You whom the Deuill Prides father doth perswade To paint your face mende the worke God made You with the Hood the Falling-band and Ruffe The Moncky-wast the breeching like a Beare The Perriwig the Maske the Fanne the Muffe The Bodkin and the Bussard in your heare You Veluet-cambricke-silken-feather'd toy That with your pride do all the world annoy I le Stabbe yee Odious Quarreler YOu Sir that are so quarrelous by nature That you scorne all men be they what they will Tearming each one a cowardly base creature That will not sweare and curse stab fight and kill You that will challenge any to the feelde Vowing while you can stand neuer to yeelde You that without any offence at all Will shoulder him you meete vpon the way You that by wounds and blood will haue the wall Eu'en in despight of him that dare say nay You that inhumane brutish most vncyuill Professe your selfe a Champion for the Deuill I le Stabbe you Disloyall Traytor FAlse harted Traytor bred of Iudas kinde Sent from the Furies about Helles affayres That vnto mischiefe wholy art inclin'd And neither for thy soule nor body cares Thou that with Sinon wishest Troy might burne To serue and fit the Deuill thy Maisters turne Thou that doest plot and practise gainst the state And Gods Annoynted dar'st with treason touch Thou that can'st to thy Soueraigne be ingrate Whom thou art dearely bound to honour much I le fyle no handes vpon thee I abhorre thee But I le giue order to the Hangman for-thee Filthy Pander YOu scuruie fellow in the Brokers suite A Sattin Doublet fac'd with Greace and Ale That of the art of Bawdry can'st dispute To picke a lyuing from a damn'd Whores tayle Thou that within thy Table hast set downe The names of all the Squirils in the towne Thou that can'st holde a Fanne and keepe a Dore And offer any Constable the stabbe Thou that about the streetes can'st walke a Whore And bring her vnto him that wantes a Drabbe Thou that art out-side horned like an Oxe Thy in-side all Tabacco and the Poxe I le Stabbe thee Lease-mongers REnt-raysing rascals you that care not how You do exact vpon the needy wretch That liue euen on the poore mans sweating brow And from his painefull toyle your ryches fetch Early and late his labours all are spent To pay a churlish dogged Naball rent You whom the Prophet curseth with a woe House-mongers that on earth would euer dwell Grinding the poore as their distresses shoe And at the price of old Shooes do them sell You that of Earth enough will neuer haue Till soule in Hell and body in the graue I le Stabbe yee Adulterer THou filthy fellow of a beastly life Poluted both in body and in minde That breakest wedlocke with thy lawfull wife And think'st all 's well if thou the world canst blinde Tut Death ha's worke enough with other men Hee le come when th' art an old man God knowes when Tell thee of Iudgement or of Gods displeasure Why thou wilt answere He hath grace in store And for Repentance thou wilt finde some leasure When Age will let thee follow Whores no more Thou that wilt serue the Deuill with the best And turne God to his leauings and the rest I le Stabbe thee Idle-huswife FIne neate and curious mistris Butter flie The Idle-toy to please an Idiots eye You that wish all Good-huswiues hang'd for why Your dayes work 's done each morning whē you rise Put on your Gowne your Ruffe your Masske your Chaine Then dine sup go to bed againe You that will call your Husband Gull Clowne If he refuse to let you haue your will You that will poute and lowere and fret and frowne Vnlesse his purse be lauish open still You that will haue it get it how he can Or he shall weare a Vulcans brow poore man I le Stabbe thee Prodigall Gallant YOu Sir that haue your purse cram'd full of crownes The liuely picture of the Prodigall That haue your mouth furnish'd with blood and woundes And come in Whores Wine Fidlers you 'le pay all You that are like the Dwarfe in Athens right Who in fiue dayes spent's Patrimony quite You that are churched once in seuen yeere But in a Tauerne you could liue and die You that haue your Ioy in Belly-cheere In Dice in Dauncing and in Venerie You that for pennance of your passed sinne In Woodstreete or the Poultry meane to Inne I le Stabbe thee Gluttone YOu goodman Glutton bellyed like a Butt Fac'd like the North-windes picture in a Map Thou with the neuer satisfied gutt VVhose life is eate and drinke and take a nap Thou that if Wolner were aliue againe VVould'st eate more at a meale then he in twaine Thou most vnhealthy lothsome rauenous beast That tak'st delight in nothing but excesse And hast a nose to smell out any Feast A brazen face to ceaze on euery messe That vndertakest nothing with good-will Vnlesse it be thy Pudding-house to fill I le Stabbe thee Sooth-sayer or Figure-flinger YOu Cunning man or rather co'sning Knaue That will tell good-man Ninney of his Marc Cysley how many Husbandes she shall haue Tom Carter when the weather will be faire My neighbour Powling who hath found his Purse And Ione his w●●● who did her Chickens curse Whether a man shall haue a happy life Whether a Louer shall his Loue enioy Who shall die first the husband or the wife Whether the childe vnborne be girle or boy You that can fetch home Seruantes runne away And finde out any Cattle gone astray I le Stabbe yee My fine Dauncer HEigh w'on turne more let 's see this Galliard out I promise you the fellow doth it well How nimbly at his trade he turnes about At hopping vp and downe he doth excell Well let him daunce it out and when t is done A daunce twixt him and Death must be begun You nimble skipiacke turning on the toe As though you had Gun-pouder in your tayle You that do leape about and caper soe Esteeming our old Country
Daunces stale You that do liue by shaking of the heele By hopping and by turning like a wheele I le Stabbe yee Ieffery Make-shift SHifter that liues without a lawfull calling And onely basenesse with your humor fittes That cares not in what myschefe you are falling But make an occupation of your wittes You that haue alwayes cheating Dice in store With Come sweete Fiue I holde yee sixe to foure You that can cunningly in Cookes shops brawle And shew your selfe in Choller 's mighty heate while your Consort steales Victuals from the stall To finde your poore and needy stomacke meate You that for all your diet with your Hoast Do set your hand in Chalke vnto his Poast I le Stabbe you Spend-thriftes and ill Husbandes YOu carelesse wretches of the wastfull vaine That for your Families will not prouide But liue in Idlenesse and take no paine Spending your owne and other mens beside That wife and children vtterly neglect And to your seruantes neuer haue respect You that do wish them hang'd will purchase landes Tearming him that spares Mony worse then madde You that commit your Stocke to Vitlers handes With Tush a merry Hart outliues a sadde You that are a good fellow to your friende Druncke from the weekes beginning to the ende I le Stabbe yee Haue at you all to stabbe and kill There flies my Dart light where it will HEe that will take no warning let him chuse Few wordes my maisters I intende to vse My deede and word togither alwayes goe I loue plaine dealing you shall finde it so The Stabbe I promise and the Stabbe I le pay Your Hartes shall haue it on their dying day But thinke that day is very long to come And you shall liue more yeeres then other some Thinke though your friendes and kindred dayly die You shall escape your turne is nothing nie Put my remembrance farre out of your minde For wicked men no hope in Death can finde They thinke vpon me with a cruell feare They quake and tremble when my name they heare I bring but heauie newes their soules to greeue Yet till I come they will it not beleeue Hee that hath health and ease with gould stor'd still And nere in 's life did good nor neuer will Tell him of Death of Iudgement and the Graue And what reward in Hell the wicked haue That very shortly he shall not be heere That with his flesh the Wormes shall make good-cheere That other men his hoarded goodes shall share That hence he must depart poore naked bare That earth's delightes shall be of no esteeme That all the world cannot a Soule redeeme That Diues begg's for drops where torments dwell That there 's no comfort to be had in Hel. That they which haue done good to Heau'n shall go That they which haue done ill to endles wo. His blockish Sences worldes conceites so smother It enters one eare and goes out at tother Therefore let him that will hold on his course Goe on in euill and be worse and worse T is nothing vnto mee if hee le not mende I le Stabbe him for the Deuill there 's an ende Drinke and be merry as good fellowes do And if you please you may be drunken to Carouse your drunkardes health 's from day to day Till I and Sicknesse take your health away Sweare and blaspheme Gods sacred holy name And take delight in doing of the same Thunder out Oathes such as in Hell are bred Vntill I teare thy tongue out of thy head Beare thy selfe proude as loftie as thou can Dispise the poore disdaine an humble man Boast of thy store of wealth thy worldly wit I le turne thy flesh and bones to rot for it Mallice thy neighbour cause thou see'st him thriue And for to get away his lyuing striue Vndoe him if thou can'st and for that sinne I le leaue thee but a Clout to wrap thee in Rayse Rentes apace builde Houses purchase Landes Be alwayes raking with Oppressins handes Thinke all is lawfull purchase thou can'st catch from thy distressed friendles needy wretch Buye thy poore neighbours House ouer his head Turne him and 's children out to begge their bread Deale cruelly with those are in thy debt And let them at thy handes no fauour get Send them to Prison there in all distresse To taste the mercie of the mercilesse I le shackle thee for stirring handes or feete Within a Coffin and a Winding-sheete Say to thy selfe as once the Churle did say Whose soule the Deuill fetch'd that night away For many yeeres much goodes thou hast in store Eate drinke be merry take delight therefore Exclude all Pittie Conscience and Remorce Get Goodes it skils not how by fraude or force I le come vpon thee when thou thinkest least And thou shalt die as thou did'st liue a Beast Dissemble cunning do it with a grace Giue all kind wordes before thy neighbours face Protest thy kindnesse he shall neuer lacke Yet hang him if thou can'st behind his backe Flatter and fawne with falshood pray vpon him Bestow the courtecie of Iudas on-him Of all thy villany I keepe a score Ere long thou shalt deceiue the world no more Be a Time-seruer liue as others doo With some prophane with some religious too Yet howsoeuer thou hast done or spoke Let thy Religion serue but as a cloke Thinke th' art a man from whom much wisedome flowes If thou can'st blinde the eyes of men with showes To get thy selfe Gods curse with worldlings prayse Why t' is a sinne most common now adayes Looke to it wretch as sure as Death so sure An euerlasting Hell thou shalt endure Striue and contende reuenge the least offence Threaten by Law vrge to extreame expence Spende many a pound in quarrell of a penny And be it right or wrong yeeld not to any Let no man haue the ending of thy cause But onely Lawyers try it by the Lawes I le Stabbe thee foole there 's no Atturnyes fee Can finde out Law to be reueng'd on mee Builde sumtuous Houses tytle them thine owne Make wrong pay-maister for the wood and stone Let thy Wiues pride be all thy Tennants woe Because the Deuill and shee will haue it so Hood-her and Mask-her Fanne her with a Feather Let Vanitie and Lightnesse go together Vpon the pleasure of thy Hawkes and Houndes Waste it away most prodigall by poundes Be bountifull in spending on a Whore And myserable to relieue the poore Feaste euery day as once the Glutton did And none but Gluttons to thy Banquets bid Receiue thy foode as Beastes do feede on Grasse Sit downe like th'Oxe and rise as doth the Asse Steale Gods good guiftes and neuer vse his name Vnlesse in swearing to abuse the same Liue as thou list but for thy time so spent By me to Iudgement hence thou shalt be sent And this resolue howeuer Sinne doth dlind-thee Eu'en as Death leaues thee so shal Iudgement find-thee FINIS Deathes Epitaph vpon euery mans Graue BEhold the state of all the Sonne of Men That liue to die and die they know not when How Flowerlike they wither and decay How soone Deaths Sith doth mow them downe like Hay How vaine a thing of all thinges els is Man How short his life is measur'd out a span How he is borne with teares brought vp in paine And how with sighes he leaues the world againe FINIS S. R.