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Word A Word B Word C Word D Occurrence Frequency Band MI MI Band Prominent
death_n day_n night_n time_n 4,668 5 3.6729 3 false
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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A81430 A dialogue betwixt an excise-man and Death. 1659 (1659) Wing D1348; Thomason 669.f.21[58]; ESTC R211223 1,613 1

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A Dialogue betwixt an EXCISE-MAN and DEATH UPon a time when Titans Steeds were driven To drench themselves beneath the Western Heaven And sable Morpheus had his Curtains spread And silent Night had laid the World to bed Mongst other Night-Birds which did seeke for Prey A blunt Excise-man which abhor'd the Day Was rambling forth to seeke himselfe a Booty 'Mongst Merchants Goods which had not paid the Duty But walking all alone Death chanc'd to meet him And in this manner did begin to greet him Death Stand who comes here what means this Knave to peepe And sculke a broad when honest men should sleepe Speake what 's thy name and quickly tell me this Whither thou goest and what thy bus'ness is Excise-man What'ere my bus'ness is thou foule-mouth'd scould I 'de have you know I scorn to be controul'd By any Man that lives much less by thou Who blurtest out thou knowst not what nor how I goe about my lawful bus'ness And I le make you smart for bidding of mee stand Death Jmperious Cox-combe Is your stomack vext Pray slack your rage and harken what comes next I have a Writt to take you up Therefore To chafe your blood I bid you stand once more Excis A Writt to take me up Excuse mee Sir You doe mistake I am an Officer In Publick Service for my private Wealth My bus'ness is if any seeke by stealth To undermine the States I doe discover Their falshood therefore hold your hand give over Death Nay faire and soft T is not so quickly done As you conceive it is I am not gone A jott the sooner for your hastie Chat Nor braging Language For I tell you flat T is more then so though Fortune seeme to thwart us Such easie terms I don 't intend shall part us With this impartial Arme I le make you feele My fingers first and with this Shaft of Steele I le peck thy bones As thou alive wert hated So dead to Doggs thou shall be Segregated Excis J'de laugh at that I would thou didst but dare To lay thy fingers on me J'd not spare To hack thy Carkass till my Sword was broken I 'de make thee eat the words which thou hast spoken All men should warning take by thy transgression How they molested men of my Profession My Service to the Sates is so well known That should I but Complaine they 'd quickly own My publcke grievances and give mee right To cut your eares before to morrow night Death Well said indeed But booteless all For I Am well aquainted with thy Villianie I know thy Office and thy Trade is such Thy Service little and thy Gaines are much Thy braggs are many But t is vaine to Swagger And thinke to fright me with thy guilded Dagger As I abhor thy Person Place and Threat So now I le bring thee to the Judgement Seate Excis The Judgement Seate I must confess that word Doth cut my heart like any sharpned Sword What! Come t' account methinks the dreadful sound Of every word doth make a mortal wound Which sticks not only in my outward skin But penetrates my very soule within T was least of all my thoughts that ever Death Would once attempt to stop Excise-mens breath But since t is so that now I doe perceive You are in earnest then I must relieve My self another way Come wee 'l be Friends If I have wronged thee I le make th' Amends Let 's joyne together I le passe my word this night Shall yeeld us Grub before the morning light Or otherwise to mittigate my sorrow Stay here I le bring you Gold enough to morrow Death To morrows Gold I will not have And thou Shalt have no Gold upon to morrow Now My final Writt shall to'th execution have thee All earthly Treasure cannot help or save thee Excis Then woe is me Ah! how was I befool'd I thought that Gold which answereth al things could Have stood my friend at any time to Baile mee But griefe growes great and now my trust doth fail mee Oh! that my conscience were but clear within Which now is racked with my former sin With horror I behold my secret Stealing My Bribes Oppression and my graceless Dealing My Office-sins which I had clean forgotten Will Gnaw my soul when all my bones are rotten I must confess it very grief doth force mee Dead or alive both God and Man doth Curse mee Let All Excise-men hereby warning take To shun their Practice for their Conscience sake FINIS LONDON Printed by I. C. 1659.