Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	dead_a	die_v	soul_n	6,918	5	5.2813	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A93033	The rape of Lucrece, committed by Tarquin the sixt; and the remarkable judgments that befel him for it. / By the incomparable master of our English poetry, Will: Shakespeare gent. Whereunto is annexed, The banishment of Tarquin: or, the reward of lust. By J. Quarles.	Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616.; Quarles, John, 1624-1665. Tarquin banished: or, The reward of lust.	1655 (1655)	Wing S2943; Thomason E1672_3; Thomason E1672_4; ESTC R13087	4,906	16

TARQVIN BANISHED OR THE REVVARD Of LUST VVritten by J. Q. Quicquid boni cum discretione feceris virtus est quicquid sine discretione gesseris vitium est virtus enim indiscreta pro vitio deputatur LONDON Printed by J. G. for John Stafford at Fleet-bridge and Will Gilbertson in Giltspur-street 1655. To the READER Kinde Reader I Am confident when thou doest seriously consider the unworthinesse of the Action thou wilt not approve of the Actor for after he had received those many civilities which the house of chast Lucretia could afford he with an unheard-of violence requited her with a most barbarous rape which cause not only his banishment but likewise cost the lives of many of the Nobility nay and the King himself in defence of his son the Ravisher lost his life and that which wa● more than all was the losse of Lucretia's life for the sense of the fact made her stab her self so died poor Lucretia blameable in nothing but that she was the Author of her own death So Reader as thou hast before read Tarqiun ●s offence thou mayst now read his punishment And so farewell TARQVIN Banished OR The reward of Lust T Is seldome known that good effects attend Upon bad causes Tarquin to befriend His own desires contaminates his will And blasts that vertue which before did fill The ears of Rome and made it to proclame The future hopes of his encreasing name May we not judge him wise that loves to spend Ere he begins some thoughts upon the end Of his designe had Pha'ton done the same He had not turn'd the world into a flame The acts of Catiline were noble deeds Compar'd to this this horrid act exceeds Horror it self Oh what obdurate breast Can read this story and not be opprest If ever mischief practis'd to excell It was in this this Master-piece of Hell Had chast Lucretia follow'd the advice Of lustfull Tarquin what a lavish price Had she layd out for sin and yet the shame Had been far greater and her death the same If not much worse for had she not reveal'd it T' had prov'd her death to think she had conceal'd it Ah poor Lucretia what a fatall guest Didst thou receive how was thy roof unblest And thou mistook how sadly did it prove Thy table fed a Serpent not a Dove It was thy face Lucretia that was spread With lavish beauty and there Tarquin fed 'T was not to take repose he made such speed Nor was 't the arrant of his minde to feed Upon such Cates his eye had chose a dish Which pleas'd him and awhile he fed by wish And then by force Lucretia thou didst finde The raging stomach of his lustfull minde But ah the sad effect records the crime Unparalleld in any Age or time For weeping Lucrece had no other shield Than virtue which deny'd her heart to yield And this all can be deduc'd from hence That virtue was opprest by violence But at the last when violence had gain'd The upper-hand vile Tarquin was constrain'd To flie and leave Lucretia to lament Though not conceal her wofull banishment Judge Ladies her distresse poor heart her grief Inclin'd her more to death than to relief She wisht to see her Lord yet knew not how To look upon him with a stedfast brow But when she thought on his abused bed Ah then ah then her much dejected head Out stream'd a fountain nothing could prevent The nimble current of her discontent At last he comes and with a fearfull hast In his expatiated arms imbrac'd His Lucrece who being tutor'd by here fears ●ke all in sighs and answer'd him in tears Whilst gazing Colatine with raging speed Stampt out these words I will revenge the deed So out he runs but hark a groan recalls His hasty feet for his Lucretia's fall Wounded by her own hand whilst he in vain Lifts up her corps and layes it down again At last poor soul she mov'd her dying head And cry'd revenge for thy Lucretia's dead Ah! who can grieve with Collatine whose grief Admits no equall but transcends belief He now is fled and ransacks all about Contrives and plots to finde young Tarquin out At last arriving where the Army stay'd The colours of his grief he thus display'd Dear friends the liberality of my speech Is humbly free and fluent to beseech Your joynt assistance to revenge a wrong Whose intricacy neither pen nor tongue Is able to expresse Alas and I Can only shaddow forth my misery My dear Lucretia In whose brest did lie My life is fled unto eternity She 's dead my Lords and ah if that were all In time I might endevour to recall My grief she is my Lords I speak what 's true Ravish'd by death nay and by Tarquin too And if a worser fate than this can be I le swear there is no grief no misery But to be short dear friends I cannot now Dispose of so much time as to utter how But the last sound of my Lucretia's breath Was this Revenge my rape condole my death The frightned aire had hardly cool'd his words Before the Nobles with their soon-drawn swords Vow'd a compleat revenge and to effect Their vow'd designs they suffer'd no neglect To harbour in their breasts but with a speed Wing'd with affection they perform'd the deed If I should lavish time and here relate Their sev'rall battels and their sev'rall fate I might perplex my Reader with a story Of this mans ruine and of that mans glory But at my period I should only say Tarquins bad cause not valour lost the day But let me say that in this fatall cloud Of ruine Tarquins father that did croud Into the arms of danger to maintain His sons vile cause deservedly was slain And when young Tarquin heard his fathers fall He grew more desperate lost himself and all Thus captive to his foes his sullen breast Swell'd more with malice than it seem'd opprest For like a base Usurper having thrust Himself in power his actions must be just Nay though the sword decline him yet would he Make all Authentick by obduracie A brazen conscience findes a brazen face Tarquin because he knew his foul disgrace Could not receive addition grew so bold So peremptory that what others told To him in grief he in disdain reply'd Lucretia's rape is Tarquins onely pride Since she is dead the thing that grieves me most Is this to think my spirits cannot boast Of more enjoyments but I le cease to crave For I am well content with what I have And if I die I charge thee grief forbear I am a Roman and I scorn to fear Oh how I le vex my foes for when as I Am brought to death they shall not know I die He steal into a slumber none shall say They saw me die although perhaps they may Report they saw me dead and Rome shall crie Tarquin hath taught us how to scorn and die Well then where 's their revenge for I am sure A

Roman spirit never can endure To triumph ore a corps when smiling death Shall put a period to my yielding breath What then Alas they only can concur In this one sense he dy'd a Ravisher Thus thus insentiate Tarquin seems to show More raging courage than repentant woe His inconsiderate thoughts think all things good And slightly wade through poor Lucretia's blood Go forward Reader and thou'lt quickly finde An alter'd Tarquin and a changed minde The Consuls after serious debate Concerning Tarquin did agree his fate Should not be speedy death but should be sent Into a sad and lasting banishment That so his more deliberate thoughts might finde A way to call his villany to minde This news arriving unto Tarquins ears He soon begins to argue with his fears Must I be sent cryes he into a place Of no society and there imbrace Perpetual woe Oh! how could Hell contrive So great a plague to keep me still alive What shall I doe in this extreme abysse Of woe and torments Death had been a blisse Beyond expression Ah! must wretched I Be so accurst t' offend and yet not die Oh most prodigious fate vile Ixions wheel Had been a paradise to what I feel Methinks I feel a sudden fire that burns My very soul my former comfort turns To present woe methinks I grow and swell Into a larger Continent sure Hell Hath chang'd his mansion and intends to make My troubled Tenement his fiery lake Since so it is I le labour to prevent Their swelling laughter with a forc'd content I le hide my sorrows from their gazing eyes I le seem to slight their malice and despise Their scornful mocks but yet my heart will tell My heart that all within me is not well But stay shall I forget my self was I not born A noble Roman and shall I not scorn Their impositions shall I now relent And prove a willing slave to discontent Fie Tarquin fie but hark I hear the summe Of my destruction now my foes are come Courage my heart be bold and let them finde Thou hast an Army in thy strength'ned minde And if a pressing sigh should chance to fly Our of the prison of thy minde deny It to be thine so shall thy prying eyes See thou disown'st their lavish tyrannies Even as the boysterous Ocean if deny'd A present passage for her swelling tyde Swells and looks big and with insulting waves Assaults th' immoving shore which stoutly staves Its fury off but if it proudly swell Above the banks 't is time to bid farewell Even so our Tarquins passion for a time Found opposition but at last did clime Above his strength and when it was too late He soon deplor'd his miserable state And being cast into a remote place He thus bewails his lamentable case Ah! what a sad Companion is a heart Burthen'd with guilt Alas I can impart No comfort to my self all things declare My ruine that 's attended with despair Methinks I have a still continued flood Before my eyes of chast Lucretia's blood Nor is my eye disturbed but my ear Is grown of late accustomed to hear Strange dialects methinks Lucretia cryes Revenge revenge my wofull injuries And thus my eyes my ears sadly portend A present woe a miserable end Thus in a sad discourse vile Tarquin goes He knows not where being usher'd by his woes At last arriving at a shadie grove Close by a wanton stream he sadly strove To mitigate his sorrow but his fire Encreas'd above the reach of his desire I am enflam'd he cryes could I devise A way to quench my sorrows with my eyes My eye enflam'd my heart my heart combin'd With my affections to corrupt my minde Thus minde thus heart obey'd a lustful call Thus lust procur'd my hate and hate my fall Ah! how these silent fishes seem to sport And revel in their cool aquarian Court Ah! how they bathe themselves in their own flood Whilst I am parboyl'd in a sea of blood Lucretia ah Lucretia thou didst finde A raped body I a raped minde At last the Sylvane Choristers begun Their warbling notes to the departing Sun Which Tarquin hearing with a deep-fetch'd groan He cry'd How more than happy 's every one Of these care-wanting creatures they are free From the rude hand of griping tyrannie And now deploring Philomel begins Her sad and melancholy notes and spins Her tedious notes unto the smallest thred As if she meant to strike poor Tarquin dead For he no sooner heard her but he cries Sweet Philomel forbear thy tyrannies Tell me thou woful wretch doe not deny Who was most villain * The Poets fain that Philomel was a Lady of an incomparable beauty and being ravished by one Tereus she importuned the Gods that she might be turned into a Bird since which time she sadly deplored her misfortune and is vulgarly called a Nightingale Tereus or I Was it not he did perpetrate thy rape And made thee wish thy self into this shape Since which sad time having banisht all delight Thy sham'd-fac'd sorrow shroud themselves in night Let me conjure thee Philomel to cease Thy high strain'd notes for they doe much encrease My raging grief and now ah now I finde Horrour in sweetnesse why art thou unkinde And wilt not cease thou shalt not ring my knell For I le be gon so Philomel farewell Away goes Tarquin Philomel pursues The more he flyes she more and more renewes Her ecchoing notes he swears she chants and rears Her shriller accents to his tortur'd ears Enrag'd he cryes the Gods did doe thee wrong To take thy womans shape yet leave her tongue Will not entreaties move thee wilt thou still Send arrowes to my soul and be thus shrill Peace witch thou tempt'st my patience every note Derived from the Magick of thy throat Strikes me to death but ah I will not hear For if thou find'st a tongue I le want an ear With that he stops his ears but all in vaine His fancy turnes all Philomels and straine Far higher notes so he at length let fly The portalls of his eares and by and by More then a flock of Nightingalls being met They thus contriv'd to pay Lucretia's debt First they encampe about his eares and send A party out of notes which recommend Themselves unto him whil'st affrightn'd he Decayes and reels into an extasie Then they assault him with full bodied notes Discharged from the Engins of their throats But Tarquin not encourag'd to abide So hot a Charge falls down and falling dy'd Which they perceiving presently arise And flockt about him and pickt out his eyes From which sad story we may well infer That Philomel abhors a Ravisher FINIS