Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	wont_a	word_n	world_n	24	3	3.5864	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A20096	The famous history of Sir Thomas VVyat With the coronation of Queen Mary, and the coming in of King Philip. As it was plaied by the Queens Maiesties Seruants. Written by Thomas Dickers, and Iohn Webster.	Dekker, Thomas, ca. 1572-1632.; Webster, John, 1580?-1625? aut	1607 (1607)	STC 6537; ESTC S105289	23,849	54

from France And sometimes to from Spaine But neuer could I heare that England yet Has bin so base to seeke a King from either T is policie deare Queene no loue at all Win. T is loue great Queene no pollicie at all Wiat. Which of you all dares iustifie this match And not be toucht in conscience with an oath Remember O remember I beseech you King Henries last will and his act at Court I meane that royall Court of Parliament That does prohibit Spaniards from the Land That Will and Act to which you all are sworne And doe not damme your soules with periurie Mary But that wee knowe thee Wyat to be true Vnto the Crowne of England and to vs Thy ouer-boldnesse should bee payde with death But cease for feare your liberàll tongue offend With one consent my Lordes you like this match Omnes We doe great Soueraigne Mary Call in Count Edmond Honorable Lords Enter Edmond Wee haue determined of your Ambassie and thus I plight our loue to Philips heart Imbarke you straight the winde blowes wondrous faire Till he shall land in England I am all care 〈◊〉 all but Sir Thomas VVyat Wia. And ere hee land in England I will offer My loyall brest for him to treade vpon O who so forward Wyat as thy selfe To raise this troublesome Queene in this her Throane Philip is a Spaniard a proud Nation Whome naturally our Countrie men abhorre Assist me gratious heauens and you shall see What hate I beare vnto their Slauerie I le into Kent there muster vp my friendes To saue this Countrie and this Realme defend Exit Sir Thomas Wyat. Enter Guilford Dudley Iane and 〈◊〉 Guil. God morrow to the Patron of my woe Iane God morrowe to my Lord my louely Dudley Why doe you looke so sad my dearest Lord Guil. Nay why doth Iane thus with a heauie eye And a defected looke salute the day Sorrow doth ill become thy siluer brow Sad griefe lyes dead so long as thou liues fayre In my Ianes ioy I doe not care for care Iane My lookes my loue is sorted with my heart The Sunne himselfe doth scantly show his face Out of this firme grate you may perceiue the Tower-Hill Thronged with store of people As if they gap'd for some strange Noueltie Guil. Though sleepe doe sildome dwéll in men of care Yet I did this night sleepe and this night dream't My Princely father great Northumberland Was marryed to a stately Bride And then me thought iust on his Bridall day A poysoned draught did take his life away Iane Let not fond visions so appale my Loue For dreames doe oftentimes contrarie prooue Guil. The nights are teadious and the daies are sad And see you how the people stand in heapes Each man sad looking on his aposed obiect As if a generall passion possest them Their eyes doe seeme as dropping as the Moone As if prepared for a Tragedie For neuer swarmes of people there doe tread But to rob life and to inrich the dead And shewe they wept Lef My Lord they did so for I was there Gui. I pra'y resolue vs good Maister Lieftenant Who was it yonder that rendered vp his life To natures death Lief. Pardon me my Lord t is fellony to acquaint you with death of any Prisoner yet to resolue your grace it was your Father great Northumberland that this day lost his head Guil Peace rest his soule his sinnes be buried in his graue And not remembred in his Epitaph but who comes heere Iane My Father Prisoner Enter Suffolke garded foorth Suff: O Iane now naught but feare thy Tytle thy state Thou now must leaue for a small graue Had I bin contented to a bin great I had stood But now my rising is puld downe with blood Farwell point me my house of prayers Iane Is greefe so short t wa's wont to be full of wordes T is true but now Deathes lesson bids a coulde adue Farwell thus friendes on desperate iourneys parte Breaking of wordes with teares that swelles the heart Exit Suffolke Leef It is the pleasure of the Queene that you part lodgings Till your Arrainement which must be to morrow Iane Good Maister Lieftenant let vs pray together Lief. Pardon me Madam I may not they that owe you sway me Guil: Intreate not Iane though shee our bodies part Our soules shall meete Farwell my loue Iane My Dudley my owne heart Exeunt O● Enter Wyat with Souldiers UUiat Hold Drumme stand Gentlemen Giue the word along stand stand Maisters friendes Souldiers and therefore Gentlemen I know some of you weare warme pursses Linde with golde to them I speake not But to such leane knaues that cannot put vp Crosses thus I say fight valiantly And by the mary God you that haue all Your life time siluer lackt Shall now get Crownes marry they must be crackt Sol: No matter wee le change them for white money Wiat But it must needs be so deare Countriemen For Souldiers are the maisters of wars mint Blowes are the stamps they set vpon with bullets And broken pates are when the braines lyes spilt These light crownes that with blood are double guilt But that 's not all that your stout hearts shall earne Sticke to this glorious quarrell and your names Shall stand in Chronicles ranck'd euen with Kings You free your Countrie from base spanish thrall From Ignominious slauerie Who can disgest a Spaniard that 's a true Englishman Solo Would he might choake that disgest him Wiat. Hee that loues freedome and his Countrie Crie a Wyat he that will not with my heart Let him stand foorth shake handes And wee le depart Sol. A Wyat a Wyat a Wyat Enter Norry sounding a Trumpet Har: Forbeare or with the breath thy Trumpet spends This shall let foorth thy soule Nor: I am a Herald and chalenge safetie By the lawe of armes Her: So shalt thou when thou art lawfully imploide Wia: What loude knaues that Nor: No knaue Sir Thomas I am a true man to my Queene to whome thou art a Traytor Sol. Knocke him downe Wiat. Knocke him downe fie no Wee le handle him he shall sound before he goe Har. Hee comes from Norfolke and those fawning Lords in Maries name waying out life to them that will with basenesse burie it Ceaze on him as a pernitious enemie Wia. Sir George be ruld Since we professe the Arte of Warre Let 's not be hist at for our ignorance Hee shall passe and repasse iuggle the best he can Lead him into the Cittie Norry set foorth Set foorth thy brasen throate and call all Rochester About thee doe thy office fill their Light heads with proclamations doe Catch Fooles with Lime-twigs dipt with pardons But Sir George and good sir Harry Isley If this Gallant open his mouth too wide Powder the Varlet pistoll him fire the Roofe that 's ore his mouth He craues the law of Armes and he shall ha 't Teach him our law to cut 's throate if he prate If lowder reach thy

of ground where we must die Sprinckle their bloodes Though I know no cause why Norf: Speake you to me Lord Guilford Gui: Norfolke no I speake to Norf: To whome Gui: Alasse I doe not knowe which of vs two dies first Win: The better part Gui: O rather kill the worst Iane T is I sweete loue that first must kisse the blocke Guilf. I am a man 〈◊〉 men better brooke shocke of threatning death Your sexe are euer The thoughts of death a womans hearte will breake Iane But I am armde to die Guilf: Likelyer to liue Death to the vnwilling dooth his presence giue Hee dares not looke the bolde man in the face But on the fearefull layes his killing Mace Winc. It is the pleasure of the Queene that the Lady Iane must first suffer death Iane I thanke her Highnesse That I shall first depart this haplesse world and not Suruiue to see my dere loue dead Guilfo: She dying first I three times loose my head Enter the Headsman Headsm. Forgiue me Lady I pra'y your death Guilf: Ha hast thou the heart to kill a face so faire Win It is her Heades-man Guil: And demaundes a pardon Onely of her for taking off her head Iane I gentle Guilford and I pardon him Guil: But I le not pardon him thou art my wife And he shall aske me pardon for thy life Hed: Pardon me my Lord Gui: Rise doe not kneele Though thou submit'st thou hast a lowring steele Whose fatal declynation brings our death Good man of earth make haste to make vs earth Heds. Pleaseth the Lady Iane I le helpe her off with her night-Gowne Iane Thankes gentle friend But I haue other waiting women to attend mee Good Mistris Ellin lend me a helping hand To strip me of this worldly ornament Off with these robes O teare them from my side Such silken couers are the guilt of pride Insteede of gownes my couerture be earth My worldly death or new Celestiall breath What is it off Lad: Madam almoste Iane Not yet O God! how hardly can we shake off this worldes Pomp That cleaues vnto vs like our bodies skinne Yet thus O God shake of thy seruants sinne Lady Here is a scarfe to blinde your eies Iane From all the world but from my Guilfords sight Before I fasten this beneath my browe Let me behold him with a constant looke Gui: O doe not kill me with that pitious eie Iane T is my last farwell take it patiently My dearest Guilford let vs kisse and part Nowe blinde mine eyes neuer to see the skie 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Guil: Oh! He 〈◊〉 into a trance Norf: How fares my Lord Arun Hee 's falne into a trance Norf: Wake him not vntill hee wake himselfe O happie Guilford if thou die in this Thy so●le will be the first in heauenly blisse Enter th● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 with Ianes head Win: Heare comes the Heads-man with the head of Iane Guil Who spake of Iane who namde my lòuely Iane Win Behold her head Gui. O I shall faint againe Yet let me beare this fight vnto my graue My sweete Ianes head Looke Norfolke Arundell Winchester Doe male factors looke Thus when they die a ruddie lippe A cleere reflecting eye Cheekes purer then the Maiden oreant pearle That sprinckles bashfulnes through the clowdes Her innocence has giuen her this looke The like for me to show so well being dead How innocence would Guilford loose his head Win. My Lord the time runs on Guil So does our death Heere 's one has run so fast shee 's out of breath But the time goes on And my faire Ianes white soule wil be In heauen before me If I doe stay stay gentle wife Thy Guilford followes thee Though on the earth we part by aduerse fate Our soules shall knock together at heauens gate The skie is calme our deathes haue a faire day And we shall passe the smoother on our way My Lords farwell I once farwel to all The Fathers pride has causde the Childrens fall Exi Guilford to Death Norf. Thus haue we seene her Highnesse will perform'd And now their heads and bodies shall bee ioynd and buried in one graue as fits their loues Thus much I le say in their behalfes now dead Their Fathers pride their liues haue seuered FINIS