Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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ID |
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Author |
Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
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A04841
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An halfe-penny-worth of vvit, in a penny-worth of paper. Or, The hermites tale
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King, Humphrey.
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1613
(1613)
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STC 14973; ESTC S109260
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12,208
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48
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Preach in heart with one accord That they may neuer laugh for feare they do offend the Lord Then starteth vp a brother straight vpon a wicker Chayre And talkes of sinne and how it raignes amongst vs euery where How euery state is discontent How many sinne how few repent What May-poles and what Whitson-ales What ringing and what old-wiues tales Are now beleeu'd to be the way To saue vs all another day My son these men will nere endure the touch They know too little and they speake too much Their lookes are smoth like Siluer purifide They will proue Copper when they shall be tri'd I neuer heard of these which seeme so pure Which for Christs sake wold Martirdom endure And yet no doubt as long as peace remaines Their conscience will endure any paines But if the God of warre abroad should range And catch these men that long to see a change You then should see them all within one day For very feare of death to turne Turke-way But come my sonne sit downe and let vs eate These homely cates in steed of better meate And leaue these men that enuy so the state To die like dogs that can do nought but prate I 'le tell you Father of a Tale that is in Skeltons rime A foolish Tale but yet a Tale to driue away the time Of a very pleasant lad my Tale I must beginne That came into a house by chaunce where Sectaries did Inne And being in their company not knowing what they were He was as merry as a Pie still skypping here and there Till at the last a ciuill Sire came mildly towards him And like a man of God rebuk'd this yong-man for his sinne This merry Lad mus'd at the man as one loath to offend Saying if he had done amisse he would be glad to mend Night drew on Supper came in they all with one consent Desir'd this yong-mans company and he was well content He sadly sate all Supper while and not a word he said And as they did so would he do They after supper prayed And Chapters read and sung a Psalme all to instruct the youth What great delight he ought to haue in reading of the truth VVhen that the Lord was serued thus they cald a reckning presently And would not let this yong man pay but thank'd him for his company This pleasant Lad muz'd at the men yet being farre from scorning Intreated them to breake their fast with him the next day morning They thank'd him all with one consent but especially Maister Powes Desired him to bestow no cost but onely Beefe and Browes You shall haue nothing ese quoth he welcome shall be your chiefe And so good-night vntill we meete all at a peece of biefe The morning came there they met the boy that knew his time Set them downe to breakefast straight and then began his rime You are welcome heartily vnto lusty Humphrey VVelcome here must be your chiefe To a friendly peece of Biefe Such as was vs'd in ancient time VVhen house-keeping was in prime VVhen the Biefe and Brewes flourisht VVhen the silly soules were nourisht Then 't was a wonder to the poore To see a Porter keepe the doore Then were silly harmelesse folkes Plaine chimneyes then were full of smoakes Euery table then was spred And furnisht out with Biefe and bread Euery man then tooke a pleasure In his house to spend his treasure Who was then the Gentries Guest The Widdow poore that 's oft opprest The Souldiers with their wounds and skarres Bleeding for their Countries warres Then in the Country dwelt true pitty Now Christmas is but for the Citty A Gentleman of small reuenew Had then the poore for his retinew Wast not then a merry time When thy neighbour came to mine Canst thou lend me twenty pound For to buy a peece of ground Without statute or a bond Their word as good as any hand Then men of ancient calling Loued no pride for feare of falling Country Russet was their wearing And Kendall greene for feare of tearing The Clothier scarce the Mercer knew Now Silke-wormes make the Sheepe to rue The Plough-man liu'd sweete was his paine The Taylor now sweepes vp his gaine If any now do take compassion 'T is to checke the oldest fashion Yet paying for new fashions gold In spight of all the new is old But what meane I to runne so farre My foolish words may breed a skarre Let vs talke of Robin Hoode And little Iohn in merry Shirewood Of Poet Skelton with his pen And many other merry men Of May-game Lords and Sommer Queenes With Milke-maides dancing o're the Greenes Of merry Tarlton in our time Whose conceite was very fine Whom Death hath wounded with his Dart That lou'd a May-pole with his heart His humour was to please all them That seeme no Gods but mortall men For saith he in these our daies The Cobler now his Last downe laies And if he can but reade God wot Hee talkes and prates he knowes not what Of May-poles and of merriments That haue no spot of ill pretence But I wonder now and then To see the wise and learned men VVith countenance grim and many a frowne Cries Maisters plucke the May-pole downe To heare this newes the Milke-maide cries To see the sight the Plough-man dies 'T is a iest to see when they beginne For to plucke downe such wodden sinne Foolish men and faith-lesse too That still professe and nothing do The Sectaries were in a rage and knew not what to say They spit and chafd and stampt amaine and would haue gone away This merry Lad began to laugh and to them thus replide You see it stands not with my youth from pleasure to be tide I loue to sit and laugh not to offend the wise I care not for their company that honest mirth despise Those that be Saints abroad whose substance shadowes bee Let them go seeke Precisian-sects they are no mates for mee And when you are at home thinke of this prouerbe told The Tree is still knowne by his fruite if it be nere so old The poore men went away all discontent in minde And had no pleasure to their meate but left it all behind Now Father be you iudge who plaid the better part They with their zeale or else the boy that spoke with all his heart In sadnesse my good sonne I neuer yet did heare A Tale to that effect so much to please mine eare My iudgement I will stay vntill our better leisure I 'le show thee heere a booke my sonne wherein thou maist take pleasure Heere shalt thou reade my sonne a volume of dispaire The death of many a conquering king their liues and what they were The wisedome of this world the frailty of our age Our present time now acting sinne like Players on a stage I writ it with this hand that once could guide a pen And set my Launce into my rest as well as other men But oh those daies are past and now I wish