Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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Author |
Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
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A14041
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Nosce te, (humors.) By Richard Turner
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Turner, Richard, poet.
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1607
(1607)
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STC 24346; ESTC S118702
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12,748
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50
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honors bounty was such TOuch not my Rapier for by my rapiers hilt If thou defile my rapier with thy sight Then by the radiance of my rapiers gilt My rapier sends you to eternall night But see it quoth a know slaue my rapier scornes The vile beholding of so base a groome What will you faith come come I le cut your cornes Die villaine die or quickly leaue the roome C ham not so simple quoth the countrey clowne To runne away for euery Mouse that cries Chau beene the lustiest man in all our town Quoth Hot-spurre O my spleene by Ioue he dies Plain-dealing Tom esteeming that course best Drew a hudge Ale-house dagger from his backe Put vp quoth Hot-spurre canst abide no iest In conscience I should beate thee like a sacke Rusticke was ready Hot-spurre gan to fawne Faith hee 'd haue beate him if he had not drawne OBtaine of me my liuing lands and life Obtaine the nightly lodging with my wife Commaund me hang my selfe nay fight for thee Nay sweet friend my rapier must be free What else I haue by your name is knowne What 's mine 's my friende's saue only that 's mine owne Of mettels strange of composition rare Like Mars his sword my rapier scornes compare Is not possession to thefts fier fuel Whoe'd trust security such a iewel Who hath your rapier that you doe not feare it Nay where 's your rapier that you do not weare it O sir so many cans of expence Why doe you laugh faith t is not pawnd for sixpence SPlendor of nature luster of a nose Whose colour far exceeds the reddest rose A radiant nose for brightnes glorious A nose whose greatnes is notorious All moderne noses this nose farre out goes A handfull brode why t is monstrous for a nose Mirosos comming to a tauerne neere In gallant tearmes began to curse and sweare This roguish house what the poxe brought me hither What are these rogues and whores gone altogether T is a maingie house here gentlemen may starue Whilst knaues and drabs are playing that should serue Anone saies one may it please your worship dine My leasure is you slaue to drinke some wine What smell is this faugh here is a filthy fogge A shaking roome able to choke a dogge Such durty towels rude cushions rotten stooles Plague on such Beggar-masters and men fooles A quart of Ipocras fresh neat and pure Now by my blâ—de I shall be angrie sure The boy with humble flexure doth decline And â—â—dging to the Celler downe for wine Meane while Miroso's gone and wot you why â—oxe take the Beaker must he stand so nie I Haue a loue by whom the morning rise Lookes still to haue her blushing glory tainted Were they not bleard O shee had excellent eies The world affoards a face no better painted A lippe like to Diana her fountaines brincke Heauens for a breath O that it did not stincke Didst thou but see with what facilitie Shee winnes a louer with an amorous looke thou 'dst consecrate to all eternitie Her famous name within some brasen booke Lightning of Nature beauties amazing thunder The rogue doth smile t' would make your worshippe wonder Compared to her priceles-valued minde Perfections richest jewell is but poore One cannot wish a wench to be more kind Mistake me not for a Pandor her a whore For if you doe you wrong vs not a little You may know we are honest cause we liue at Spittle MY Ladie 's sicke no earthly thing can cure her Shee lookes so grimme no creature can endure her O fetch no Doctors t' were but idle cost Her boxe pomatum life and all are lost SEeke not to comfort me my wife is dead Gush forth salt tears drown euery sence with weeping Last night I was so troubled in my bedde That for my life I could not wake for sleeping Nor can I stand for leaping weepe for wincking Nor hardly eate a bit of bread for drinking Thus in most pittious manner haue I liu'd This too too tedious time two daies with my maid Neuer like me was any creature grieu'd Ere since her death for very woe I haue plaid No maruell for I could not worke for sweating Nor could the egges be butterd ere I was eating Yet now at last it 's time it 's time adue Liue loued soule for euer in sweet blisse When the old is gone t' is time to seeke a new I loue thee deerely Besse aye by this kisse The match is made and here 's an end of sorrow Wee 'l lie together to night marrie to morrowe HEr nicenesse pleasure is to walke Roome there for Madam Minx O fie vpon this bawdie talke Now faugh by gisse it stinkes Why will you not giue place sir knaue He 'l not attend your fables Shee loues not to heare of nor to haue Such fowle euill fauour'd bables O touch her not for Dian's sake Shee 's Venus chiefest scorner The place you greatly doe mistake I hope this is no corner One snatcht her keyes that sate her neere Because the chaine was gawdie And put them I 'le not tell you where Because t is somwhat bawdie Polluted things touch not her rings Your stinking heat shee 'l coole For fingers twaine scarce toucht the chaine And carri'd them to a poole Where till shee had bestowed great store Of washing the defiled Shee to her keyes a crowne before Could not haue reconciled But happiest men crosses endure When Fate her might aduances Nor puritanisme is secure From greatest of mischances For within a month and twenty daies This Minx surnam'd the Milde Did make the fowler of her keyes The father of a childe SCud coward valour flie my tempestuous ire And the turbouse tumbling of my whirlewinde fury So raging spleene belke out thy sparkling fire My hands are iudges and my sword 's the Iury None scapes with lesse that dares approch my sight Than condemnation to eternall night The extreame torture of his fatall houre Attends the villaine that 's next obuious Stretch out my legs I le walke fiue mile an houre Soft now I know what makes me so outragious Knew I who would trust me I 'de goe ease my minde I am hudge and hungrie cause I haue not din'd MOngst liquids R. and L. surpasse the rest Of consonants S. X. were and are best O Harke my Mistresse comes where shall I hide me Her ratling silkes prognosticate shee 'l chide me This peeuish dreaming whore where is she mising That doth so well attend me whilst I am rising No cussion for my feete no chaire to sit in Nor any bason set forsooth to spit in A haire lay on my stockinges doe you ginne to crie Nay more you queane my buske-points stood awry My shooes an inch asunder with no sockes in My kirtle wrinckled bigge as any pinne Pox on your fingers are they growne so nise My girdle trust me was as cold as I se Whether runne you sirrogue what are you blind I hold my life my munkey hath not dinde Come