Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	die_v	life_n	think_v	9,849	5	4.3485	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A59508	Measure for measure, or, Beauty the best advocate as it is acted at the theatre in Lincolns-Inn-Fields : written originally by Mr. Shakespear, and now very much alter'd, with additions of several entertainments of musick.	Gildon, Charles, 1665-1724.; Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616. Measure for measure.	1700 (1700)	Wing S2936; ESTC R16112	32,987	56

Iul. 'T is true I am a Woman frail and ignorant But yet my Honour and Religion joyn'd Have taught me the full Knowledge of this Point And we are marry'd with all those holy Rites The Church ordains The pious Father Pierre Of your good Order joyn'd our Hands in private 'T is true for worldly Cause and for that Fault I take this Shame most patiently Duke Can you forgive the Cause of this your Infamy Can you love still the Man that seems t o've wrong'd you Iul. Yes as I love the Woman that wrong'd him That has undone him taken away his Life O Heav'n prevent his Fate or take me too Duke Resign your self to Heav'n If you 're Innocent Be sure of Help We 'll to your Partner Benedicite Exit with the Fryer Iul. Must die to morrow Oh injurious Love That dost the Life of my sad Life remove Yet doom'st me still to agonizing Breath And barr'st me from the sweet Retreat of Death O Heav'n my Claudio to these Arms restore Or when he dies O let me be no more The End of the Second Act. ACT III. SCENE I. The Prison Enter Duke Fryer and Claudio Duke THEN you still hope a Pardon from Lord Angelo Claud. The Miserable have no Ease but Hope I hope to live but am prepar'd to die Duke Be absolute for Death for Death or Life Will so the sweeter be if you lose Life You lose a thing that none but fools would keep A Breath that 's subject to a thousand chances That hourly pains ev'n us that wou'd preserve it We are deaths Fools whom while we strive to shun We hasten to Cowards we fear the tender fork Of a poor Worm the best of Rest is Sleep That we provoke tho grosly fear our Death Which is no more Fry Happy we 're not For what we 've not we vainly strive to gain And what we have forget tho' rich we 're poor For like an Ass whose Back with Ingots bows We bear our heavy Riches but a Journey And Death unlades us Duke Friends we 've none Our very Off-spring cursing our Distempers For ending us no sooner We have not Youth nor Age But as it were an after Dinners sleep Dreaming upon both Youth has no thought And Age no heat or taste to relish Life Yet Life we cherish that 's thus fill'd with woe But fear kind Death that makes these odds all ev'n Clau. To sue to live I find I seek to dye And seeking Death find Life Enter Isabella Isa. Peace here and Grace Duke That wish deserves a Welcome Clau. My Sister Duke E'r long my Son again I 'll see you Clau. Most holy Sir I thank you Duke Father Thomas Let us retire I wou'd conceal'd orehear ' em Clau. Well Sister what 's the Comfort Exit with Fryer Isa. Why as all worldly Comforts use to be Lord Angelo having Affairs to heav'n Intends you for his swift Ambassadour Therefore your best appointment make with speed To morrow you set out Claud. Is there no Remedy Isa. Yes Brother you may live There is a devilish mercy in the Judge That will if you 'l implore it free your Life But fetter you till Death Claud. Perpetual durance Isa. T is worse more painful too than Racks and Tortures For 't is a rack of Mind Clau. But of what Nature Isa. 'T is such as shou'd you give it your consent Wou'd leave you stript of all your wreaths of War And shew you naked to the scornful World Clau. Let me know my Doom Isa. If I cou'd fear thee Claudio I should weep Lest thou a shameful life should'st now prefer And six or seven short Winters more respect Than a perpetual Honour Dar'st thou dye The sense of Death is most in Apprehension And the small Beetle when we tread on it In corporal Sufferance finds a pang as great As when a Gyant dyes Clau. Why give you me this shame Think you I can Resolution fetch From flowing tenderness If I must dye I 'll welcome Darkness as a shining Bride And hug it in my Arms. Isa. There spoke my Brother there my Fathers Grave Sent forth a chearful Voice yes you must dye Thou art too Noble to preserve thy Life By such base means This outward rigid Saint Does in his gracious Looks disguise the Devil His filth within being cast he wou'd appear A pond as foul as Hell Clau. What Angelo Isa. Oh! he is uglier than a Fiend confess'd Speak Claudio cou'd you think it you may live If to his Lust I 'd Sacrifice my Honour Clau. Impossible it cannot be Hypocrite Isa. Yes he that wou'd not hear your Innocence Would quit you now of the most horrid Guilt Give you a Licence to Sin on securely Wou'd I consent to be more black than he is This Night 's the time that he would have me do What I abhor to name or else you dye To Morrow Clau. By Heav'n thou shalt not do it Isa. Oh! were it but my Life dear Claudio I 'd throw it down for your Deliverance Without the least delay Clau. Thanks my Dear Sister Isa. Since nothing but my Honour can Redeem you Prepare to dye to Morrow Clau. Hah to Morrow But Isabella Isa. What says my Brother Clau. Death is a fearful thing Isa. But Infamy more hateful Sure you have study'd what it is to dye Clau. Oh! Sister t is to go we know not whither To lye a kneaded Clod in the dark Grave And have this sensible warm motion end Or rotting get another of crawling Worms That springs from every part of our Corruption The Spirit perhaps must bathe in fiery Floods Or shiver in shrilling Regions of rib'd Ice Or be imprison'd in the viewless Winds And blown with restless Violence round about This pendant World or if condemn'd like those Whom our uncertain Thoughts imagine howling Oh! 't is too horrible and the most loath'd Life That Age or Ach or Want or Imprisonment Can lay on Nature is a Paradise To what we fear of Death Isa. Alass alass Clau. Ah! My Dear Sister I would live Isa. Ha! Live d'ye say O you base one O! faithless Coward O dishonest Wretch Wilt thou be made a Man out of my Vice Is 't not a kind of Incest to take Life From thy own Sisters shame But sure thou art not My Brother Dye Perish if but my word Would save thy loathsom Life I wou'd not speak it I 'll pay a thousand Prayers for thy Deaths But not a word to save thee Clau. But hear me Isa. Oh! Fie fie fie how can I think thou art Innocent Clau. Your over-nicety of Honour feeds Your fancy with strange ugly forms That have no real Existence But by excess of Vertue you offend I said indeed that I wou'd Live what then Is 't not the Voice of Nature that abhors The fatal Separation Then where 's the Crime Isa. None but in living by a Crime Claud. You 're right but eagerly you cut off halfmy Words Which had imply'd that Truth