Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	bring_v	die_v	live_v	4,633	5	5.0748	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A13307	The case is altered How? Aske Dalio, and Millo.	F. T., fl. 1604-1635.; Breton, Nicholas, 1545?-1626?, attributed name.	1604 (1604)	STC 23614; ESTC S113505	18,039	30

wry mouthed botle-n●sed 〈◊〉 legged pal●ie handed stumpe footed w●y bodied 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 s●andering tongue fo● stinking breathed who walked but vpon cruches read but with spectacles and spake with a wa●ing nodding or a noddy head this ongly 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 rather abi●ct of nature the sorrow of ●outhes e●e sight the disprofit o● time th● hate of loue and the lam●ntation of hope such a man as is not in the world to be seene by very ill ●ortune vppon a faire day chanced to meete with a Tenants daughter of his whom hauing well viewed as his dumne sight would giu● him leaue giuing a nodde to her curtesie sent the next day for her to his house but the wench the day before hauing so much of his sight that she desi●ed neuer to see him more with bitter teares fell at her fathers feete and desired him to goe and know his pleasure and make excuse for her that she was not well but the next day she would come to him the poore man seeing his daughter change colour did yeelde to her request put on his best shooes a cleane band being but a litle way to his house through want of a horse went on foote when but a litle wetshod with slipping into a ditch he comes at last to the doore of this rich Clowne who being head Bailiff● to the chiefe Lord of the manner kept a house the best thatched of all his neighbours in the parish there being saluted by a couple of sowle curres not much vnlike their old maister being of his old acquaintance shewed him but their teeth then wagging their tailes did him no harme but let him there stay til this Chaps the old mezil ●earing his dogges and knowing their voices came out to heare whom they talked too and there seeing this poore man stand cappe in hand setting hunsclfe downe vpon a bench after a horse cough and a spalling spet or two begins to aske him for his daughter whose excuse being made he falls aboord with him for her to haue her for his seruant which he answering with an excuse that it could not be for she had taken earnest of a gentlewoman to waite on her in her chamber which he belieuing answered that he would do more ●or her then any gentlewoman of them all for he had no children and he would make her both his childe and his wife and therefore she should take no eare for seruice the poore man glad of this message went home merily to his daughter told her what good fortune was towards her for ioy sent for the other pot now thought to take no care for rent when his child should be his Landlady but the poore girle seeming to her father to be as ioyfull as he when her father was gone to his daies worke in the morning tooke an old sacke in which she put vp all her cloathes that she had and away goes she to an Aunt she had ten miles of and there with howling and crying that her father ment to marrie her to the diuel intreated her to put her to seruice ●r she had rather wash ●uckes all daies of her life then be matched with such a monster Oh Aunt euery body saies that he kild his last wife with kindnes and I thinke he would do as much with me Oh t is a venome man as liues and truly Aunt it is such an ilfauoured man and he hath such a breath It is a beastly creature besides the house that he dwells in he hath but his life in but if he had all the world and as much good as would lie in all your house I would not haue him I had rather begge my bread Her Aunt séeing the honest heart of the poore wench and knowing that she could set a seame together and handl● her needle prettily for a plaine hemme could tell how to eate a peece of meate howeuer she could dresse it spake to a gentlewoman neere vnto her to take her into her seruice droue a bargaine for her wages brought her to her and placed her with her where she behaued her selfe well and was well thought on and there I leaue her Now home comes her father misseth his daughter runnes to his Landlord thinking to finde her there the micher thinkes he is mockte he falles out with his Tenant warnes him out of his house the poore man goes home weeping his wife with her hands wringing entertaines him with a scolding railing vpon him cursing her Landlord and sweares she will haue her home hang him dogge he shall not be the death of her daughter she will not dwel in his house she will haue her childe out of his house or she will beats downe his doores and is as good as her word the next morning with an open mouth goes to his doores where lowd● then both his Mastiffes shée maketh an out●ry for her childe The man knowing her to be an vnreasonable woman entreats her to be quiet sweares by the crosse of his Crutch that he knowes not whither she is gone and with much adoe to pacifie her gettes himselfe ridde of her when comming home and not finding her deare daughter she falls into such an agony that a horse would not abide it when the poore man with griefe takes such thought that he can eate no meat and she weary almost out of breath with scolding goes to bed for anger and the old man with sorrow to loose his loue and to see her parents misery after a fit of the stone with a stitch of the Chollick being griped at y e heart fearing to leaue the world sendes for his Tenant forgiues him his rent giues his house to his daughter if she be found againe and so bestowing among the poore of the Parish some litle matter not worth the speaking of hauing made al means he could and by her parents good care and trauaile found out and brought vnto him some houre before his death gaue her in an olde foule Handkercheffe that which payde for more then the washing of two faire Smockes and so causing the great Bell to be towlde after a hollow hemme or two euen for Loue because he could liue no longer dyed And is not this of a long Case a pittifull Case Mil Yes if it were true but surely t is a iest there was ●euer such a man nor such a matter Dal. Well then say it were a iest was it not a pittifull iest Mil. If there were any pittie it was in that hée liued so long But now after your long Case let me come to you with a short Case Is it not pittie to see a faire house without Inhabitants Dal. It is and it is not Mil. How so Dal. It is in respect of good Hospitalitie a pittie but rather then be either a denne of Theeues or a Brothell of Whores it were better stand voyd and so it is no pitty Mil. Well then but is it not a pitity to sée a purse without money Dal. In respect of

THE Case is Altered How Aske Dalio and Millo LONDON Imprinted by T. C. for Iohn Smethicke and are to be sold at his Shop in S. Dunstons Church-yard in Fleet-street 1604. TO MY VERY kinde and approoued friende D. R. F. R. wisheth a com●orts that Fortune in her best Cases bestoweth on the kindest Natures and a further ioy in the heart than Fortune hath in her handes SYr your long Experience in the varietie of Cases hath made me send you these fewe mer●y pittifull Cases In which if your leisure be to reade your iudgement is sufficient to discerne the cause of their gathering together and setting down as you see the best is they are no such vnreasonable Cases but they may be pleaded with pleasure in the priuate conference of conceit and patience Some are longer then other all are free from the thought of malice But lest I speake any thing in their praises knowing nothing wo●th any thing I will leaue them to your kindnes to consider of and my loue to your farther commaundement And so fearing lest through want of meanes to expresse my affection I should in the suspition of obliuion bury the great heape of your vndeserued fauou●s intreating your patient acceptation of this till a better be made readie in a pittifull Case of discontentment that I haue not a better present for your kindnes wishing your worthines the comfort of all happines I rest in the midst of al my Cases and in what Case soeuer to my vttermost power Yours as mine owne F. T. To the Reader GEntle Reader I pray God I do not flatter you for if you should proue either vnwise or vnkinde I should call in my Title So it is that hauing nothing to do I set my selfe on work about a litle better matter to write downe certain Cases neuer pleaded but only discoursed vpon by a couple of idle people the matters handled are of no great moment therfore scarce worth the reading but yet if you peruse them all ouer no doubt but some of them wil please you if any of them do otherwise I am sory I knowe not your humour but if you finde your selfe touched with any euil rather mend the fault in your selfe then finde fault with me In brief I only write vpon Cases neither kniue Cases Pinne Cases nor Candle Cases but onely a fewe merry pittiful Cases In which if I haue lost time I am sory for my labour If I haue lost my labour I am sory for my time but if I haue gained your good will all is not lost and I thanke you but because I know not where to come to you to tell you so I leaue you to reade and like what you list and to thinke of me as you haue cause and so in good will I rest Your friend F. T. The Case is altred How Aske Dalio and Mil●o DALIO MILLO Good morrow Millo And a thousand to thée honest Dalio but whither plod you so sadly Dal. I was walking towardes your house and finding your wife abroad I hoped y e better to haue you quiet at home Mil. You say well Is it not a pittifull Case that a mans house that should bée his castle and his wise his comfort should through the vnquietnesse of her indiscretion become more terrible to him then a towne of Warre Dal. I must confesse it is too true I haue pittied you often but could neuer doe you good and he that could iudge what I see and you ●eele would confesse it were a pittifull Case ind●d God helpe you Mill. I thanke you for I thinke that the noyse of a volley of shot is not comparable to the roaring mouth of an ●nquiet woman which since it will not be mended it must be borne so forth But I pray you tel me how doth your eld●st sonne followeth he his olde courses will no good cou●sell bring him home againe Dal Oh no Neighbour I may sigh to ●are men s●y that yonder is an honest man yet hath a sonne able to breake the heart of his father Oh it is a pittifull Case that a man should 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 care all the d●yes of his life to lay vp wealth to 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 sonn● that shall spend it before he were ready to part with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 he could 〈◊〉 to be a childe be sicke of the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 vpon his death be glad of his sicknesse 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ● continuing in an euill course scorne 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the Lawe he growes so 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 he be 〈◊〉 of all good compa● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to his fathers hear● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉 of punishment the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 loue of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 him to good 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉 him so past gra● that there 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 nature is of such f●ce that 〈◊〉 canno● 〈◊〉 his owne childe what shall I say to it Dal. Why as you sayd to me let me say to you a pittifull Case a pittifull Case for t is ●o lesse Ascolding wife and a stubburne childe are two pittifull Cases for patience to plead 〈◊〉 But what is become o● my neighbours 〈◊〉 daughter 〈◊〉 Alas the day there is a pittifull Case indéed if you 〈◊〉 of a Case to be 〈◊〉 A ●ong wench a faire wench a 〈◊〉 wench a pretty wench a 〈◊〉 wench a gallant wench a proper wench a wife wench an honest wench a 〈◊〉 wench a 〈◊〉 wench that could speake well and 〈◊〉 well 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 pl● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 w●ll ●nd do 〈◊〉 thing 〈◊〉 to be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 I say cast 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that loues nothing but 〈◊〉 meate 〈◊〉 can 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 upon gay 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 all for a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the should 〈◊〉 I would reele 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 a liuing before I would bring her to her death by such a miserie 〈◊〉 You say well so I thinke should I but t is a pittifull Case and so let it be And since we are entred into these matters let me aske you a question I pray you what heare you of your Nephew and his marriage Dal. You do wel to put me in 〈◊〉 of him for in t●th I pitty him a yong man a handsome man a wise man an honest mā a kinde man a carefull man giuen to thriue like to do well comming on well in y e world to bestow the p●me of his years the hope of his fortune and the fruite of his trauaile vpon the figure of deformitie the discomfort of continuance the crosse of pleasure the misery of time all for a little can●kred coyne which may hap to be short of his reckoning he may leaue ere he be aware would it not fret a man to thinke on it 〈◊〉 a man to see it pitty him that he cannot helpe 〈◊〉 when his youth is drowned in her age his wit in her wilfulnes