Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
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A11139
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A terrible battell betweene the two consumers of the whole world: time, and death. By Samuell Rowlands
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Rowlands, Samuel, 1570?-1630?
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1606
(1606)
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STC 21407; ESTC S112121
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12,846
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45
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be got A Doctor with al expedition wife My legges wil make me weary of my life Time This misers answere I haue noted frend In sicknes men on Doctors most relie Vnto Apothicaries shops they send Till phisicke giues them ouer they must die And when they see there is no way but one Fetch a Diuine God shal be thought vpon Death T' is true indeede but wee le giue pilland potion To such as whole on outward meanes depend And come to god for want more then deuotion As forc'd vnto it at their helples end For ere the doctor could a drinke prouide I stab'd my dart thus deepe into his side Death From him thou know'st we to a lawyer went Time T is right we found him arguing of cases This is quoth he the very lawes intent With that the golden fees came in by braces Wher 's your instructions and his declaration I cannot answere thee till next vacation Come thou in Tearme thy matter shal be heard Sir I remember'd you the other day The bill you wot off I haue now preferd With that stept I and said frend Lawyer stay An execution gainst your life I haue You must vnto my Iaile is cald the Graue Leauing him to the Sexton and the bels We came vnto a Marchant in this towne That mighty bags of money ouer-tels Wrapt very orderly in his night gowne Sirra quoth he is not the poste come yet Make speed and summe me vp this bill of debt There can no ships come yet I le raise my price Oh that the winde would hold but thus a while There comes into my head an odde deuice The very thought thereof doth make me smile Some shal be sure to pay if this geare hold The plot is pretious and must yeeld me gold Thus he sat plotting till I spoild his braine With Oh I feele my selfe exceeding sicke I gaue his hart a gripe it grond againe By this on price of wares he would not sticke But lay a gasping while the bell did towle And there his body lies without a soule Next doore to him we found a London dame Vpon her bed with finger aking laide And there most bitterly she did exclaime Against the misdemeanors of her maide Base queane quoth she how dost thou make me fret To see my ruffe of that ilfauord set Your manners huswife you haue quite forgot As sure as death I le make your ioynts to bow You whore the poking yron is too hot Durst thou presume to vex thy mistris now If I were well thou queane I would not misse To had my fists about thine eares ere this Let me not rise for if I doe no more Few wordes are best I thinke you will repent it I le make you feele your sides this fortnight sore Except Death crosse my purpose and preuent it With that I stept betweene to part the Fray The Mayd scapt blowes and Mistris brake her day A Muskie-Gentle we did visit then A Silken Gallant very curyous fine That kept a swaggring crew of Seruingmen Whose rapyer-hylts embrued with gold did shine And for he would from all contention cease He wisely bound his weapons to the Peace One that would send his challenge to his Foe And braue him out with paper in disgrace But to the fielde he alwaies scornd to goe For he kept men that would supply the place He would preserue his life yet send his Gloue His person must attend on Ladies loue Well this same signeur with the tender skin That dedicateth all his daies and houres To dauncing drunkennesse and Venus sinne Neuer respecting Time and Deaths sterne powers Was met by me thinking his life secure I killed the knaue to keepe my hand in vre Where went we then doest thou remember Time Time Yes very well we visited a Poet That tyrd inuention day and night with rime And still on Venus seruice did bestow it Death T is true indeed a Poet was the next With foolish idle loue extreamely vext Time All that he did endeuour to deuise Was onely Venus praise and Cupids power Within his head he had a mint of lyes On truth he neuer spent in 's life an houre His fictions were to feed those in their pride Who take delight to heare themselues belide For slaunder women to haue vertues many Admird their beauties when they lack good faces Say they haue wit at will not seeing any Tell them their empty minds are full of graces Why then they thinke you loue them past compare And euery toy they weare becoms them rare This Poet thus a sonneting we found Riming himselfe euen almost out of breath Cupid quoth he thy cruell Dart doth wound Oh graunt me loue or else come gentle Death Death I heard him say come gentle death in Iest And in good earnest graunted his request Time Leaue him a rotting then we march'd along Vnto a Godly reuerent graue deuine Whose faith on Christ was grounded firme and strong And all his hope to heauen did he incline At prayer deuout we found him on his knees And with these words he spake his hart agrees The wounds that IESVS suffred for my sinne Are mouthes that cry O loue him with thy hart The thornes that pierced thorow his flesh and skin Are tongues pronouncing Loue is his desart The torturing whips that did to anguish moue him Are Ecchoes sounding Wretched Sinner loue him With Peters sinnes in greatnesse mine abound Who by his oathes and cursses Christ denied And with the woman in Adultry found The filthinesse of sinne in me doth bide With Magdalens in multitudes they be Her seauen Deuils haue infected me The shame of sinne vpon my soule doth fall That on the wretched Publican did light The cruelty of sinne I haue with Paul To prosecute the holy and vpright And with the Theefe that all his life did ill Vnto my graue my sinnes attend me still Oh come sweet Iesus for thy seruant coms I doe beleeue Lord helpe my vnbeliefe My debt of sinnes amount to mighty sums Of Mercies treasure onely thou art chiefe Though sinnes be red as scarlet yet I know Thy precious blood can wash them white as snow To be dissolued greatly I desire This world doth passe the things thereof are vaine To be with Christ I onely do require And see the Citty where his Saints do raigne He is my life Death is a gaine to me With that his soule ascends where Angels be Death A happy soule one that had learn'd to die And rightly vnderstood his earthly state Whose constant faith enfor'cd the Deuill fly That still assaulteth men with deadly hate For thou know'st Time how that same hel-hound striues About the hower that men yeeld vp their liues For in mans sicknes Sathan doth conceiue It may be mortall that disease may end-him And therefore no temptation he will leaue That to eternall torment he may send-him T is time saith he to do my most endeuor If now I loose his sowle t is lost for euer First then
A Terrible Battell betweene the two consumers of the whole World TIME and DEATH By Samuell Rowlands Printed at London for Iohn Deane and are to be sold at his shop 〈…〉 To the wise and well accomplisht Gent M. George Gaywood health and happinesse SIR the great and good report which my beloued friend the bearer hereof hath giuen of you hath made me more then halfe in loue with you which makes me thinke in some sort as the rude and rusticke phrase is to scratch acquaintance of you But sir beleeue it to be thus for you shall finde it so that this is not done of purpose to draw from you any bounty or rewarde to me for my Penne neuer was nor neuer shal be God saying Amen Mercinarie but to let you know that the bringer hereof who doth acknowledge himselfe to be more indebted to you then his poore estate or deiected life can make satisfaction for hath some friends that will in some measure giue you thankes for the more then fatherly kindnesse you haue shewed to him This vnspeakable loue and kindnesse of yours extended to him hath made me to dedicate this sillie work vnto you which by the generall report of your worthinesse I thinke vnworthie your acceptance But if it please you to call back againe some of the loue which you haue heretofore borne him and withall to consider that this is sent to you but as a gratulation from me for him then I make no doubt but you will accept it for his sake if not yet still I will rest your friende and Wel-willer made so by my friends report S. R A bloudy Battell betwixt Time and Death Time DRead potent Monster mighty froÌ„ thy birth Gyant of strength against al mortal power Gods great Earle Marshall ouer al the earth Taking account of each mans dying houre Landlord of Graues and Toombs of Marble stones Lord Treasurer of rotten dead-mens bones Victorious consort Slautering Caualier Mated with me to combat all aliue Know worthy Champion I haue met thee here Only to vnderstand how matters thriue As our affayres alike in nature be So let vs loue conferre and kind agree Great Regester of all things vnder Sunne Gods speedy poast that euer runs and flyes Ender of all that euer was begun That hast the Mappe of life before thine eyes And of all Creatures since the worlds creation Hast seene the finall dusty consumation Death Let me entreat thee pardon me a while Because my businesse now is very great I must go trauayle many a thousand mile To looke with care that Wormes do lacke no meat There 's many crawling feeders I maintaine I may not let those Cannibals complaine I must send murtherers with speed to Hell That there with horror they may make abode I must shew Atheysts where the Deuils dwell To let them feele there is a powerfull God I must invyte the Glutton and the Lyer Vnto a banquet made of flambes of fire I must bring PRIDE where Fashions are inuented You ydle headed Women quake and feare Your toyish fooleries will be preuented A shute of crawling Serpents you shall weare You that endeuor onely to go braue What Hel affoords you shal be sure to haue I haue the swagring Ruffian to dispatch That moth and canker of the common wealth The graceles Theefe that on the pray doth watch The dronkard a carrowsing of his health And of all sinners such a damned rowt As full of worke as Death can stir about Time This lawfull bus'nes I do well allow But in my absence how wilt thou proceede I must be present too as well as thou Before Time come thou canst not doe the deed· My Sythe cuts downe vpon thy dart they die Thou hast an houre glasse and so haue I. Looke my kinde Death here is some sand to run What do I bid thee look that hast no eies Let 's suffer their last minute to be don Some man repents the instant when he dies As one example I remember chiefe Of him that died a Saint and liu'd a Theefe Death Thou speak'st it true that penitent indeede Had neuer happy houre till his last But of like second sinner who can read From such a hellish life to heauen past But one to keepe pore sinners from dispaire And from presumption one and he most rare Thou knowst all flesh that is of woman borne Corruptly vnto sin giues full consent Seruing the Diuell with the finest corne Their pleasure youth and strength on him is spent And when the night of age brings painfull grones Then in Gods dish they cast their rotten bones Who would not censure him a foolish man To loyter out the spring and sommer tide And when another reapes make seede time than Expecting what the season had deni'de Yet such bad husbands hell affourds good-cheap Will vndertake to sow when others reape Some make my picture a most common thing As if I were continual in their thought A Deaths hâ—d seale vpon a great gold ring And round about Memento Mori wrought Which memory with gold cannot agree For he that hates the same best thinks on me I onely am a welcome frend to such As know by me they enter vnto rest And that no second death their soules can touch The peace of conscience harbors in their brest And with the diuell flesh and world still striue Vntill at Canaan they doe ariue But Time for tother thou shalt witnesse be How most vnwilling those same wretches die Their ends thou daily doest behold and see And can'st enforme the world I do not lie With horror griefe and anguish discontented In soule and body furiously tormented Time Surely they are their states cannot be told We apprehend but outward things in sight Most fearefull are those obiects to behold That curse their birth and time they saw the light Sinne hath no salue but mercy that they craue-not Repentance findeth grace and that they haue-not Death I came to kill a Vsurer of late And staying by his bed a while for thee His speech was all of mony-bags and plate But not a word of God nor thought of me Quicke fetch a scriuener let a bil be drawne Sirrha your day is broke I le keepe your pawne Intreat me not you should haue kept time better Thou shalt buy wit a foole must feele the smart Get me a Seriant to arest a debter And with that word my mace went through his heart Thus died the wretch with Mony Bond and Bill And if God haue him t' was against his will When this bad fellowes date was thus crost out I do remember we came to a place Where laye a Diues groning of the gowte Crying Lord Lord methought he ment for grace Vntill I heard the burden of his song Was Lord where may this Doctor stay so long Sir quoth his wife t were good haue a Diuine Thou art a foole said he I need him not I haue a hart as perfect sounde as thine What is there not a Doctor to