Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	world_n	worth_n	worthy_a	28	3	5.9712	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A15139	The most pleasante historie, of Albino and Bellama A poeme. To which is annexed the vindication of poesie. by N.W.; Hore di recreatione	Whiting, Nathaneel, 1617?-1682.; Dalen, Cornelius van, engraver.	1639 (1639)	STC 25437; ESTC S119865	82,028	186

THE most pleasante HISTORIE of ALBINO and BELLAMA A Poeme To which is annexed the Vindication of Poesie by NW London printed and are to be sould by Nicho Fussell 1639. TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE RIGHT worthy and truely ennobled Hero IOHN Lord Loveliss Baron of HURLEY N.W. S.P.O. THE Law-enactors whilst time fear'd the rod. Faign'd in their lawes the presence of a god Whose awful nod wisedome grave shold b● As hand and signet unto their decree And such commanding aw that sacred name Struck in the vulgar breasts it teen'd a flame Of Love and duty to their pious hefts Thus Rhadamanthus in his lawes invests Him whom prophaner times stil'd Heavens King Minos and others strike the selfe-same string The Moral 's mine for in this quirking season When pride and envie steere the Helme of reason It is has with Presse-taskers been in use To presse the issue of their prose and Muse Vnder the Ensignes of some worthy Peere Whose very name unsatyr can a jeere And lock detraction up in beds of clay To sleepe their suns as Reare-mice doe the day Then doe they bravely march with honour arm'd Which as the gods the people charmeth charm'd On this knowne priveledge feete I these lines In which though dimmer then your native shines Your worth en-fired by my kneed quill Which claimes the scale not of desertes but wil In your acceptance and the worlds surmise Then Cynicks barke and Critckes beame your eyes My quill's no pensill to emblason forth Your stainlesse honour and your matchlesse worth As dust-borne flyes which 'bout the candle play Glide through its arch en-circle fan survay Winke at the presence of dayes beamy blaze Pur on the glasse or on hearb-pillowes laze Iust so my downy Muse in Distiques dare Feete the perfection of a silklesse faire Pumex each parr so trimly that her foe Sweares her cheekes roses and her bosome snow Nay has strewd flowres of desertlesse prayse T' adorne the Tombe of good Sr worthy Crayse Vnder this ah mee stone is laid alas A man a knight the best that ever was His prowesse war his wisedome state did prove His kindnesse kindred and the world his love But when shee should with her weake feathers soare To court a star or with her feeble oare Strike such a sea of worth ride honours ring Shee dares not touch or snaffle saile or wing Onely as he which limb'd those teares and sighs Which Iphigenias death from hearts and eyes Of kindred drew but ore her father's brow Telling the world hee mournd without an how Hee drew a vaile spake sorrow in excesse So with a must my muse expresse Your sacred worth concluding it to bee Too high for any Bard if not for mee Beside the world of late has nicknam'd praise Calls it an elbow-claw and scraping bayes Then pardon Sir this dearth and iudge the why Is your worth soar'd above Parnasse's eye Let not your slights or nescio's thogh most iust Condemne my muse to bee en-seild with dust Nor let presumption hoyste to your embrace But rather let your honour bate its place And stoope unto my measures since the name Of Patrone awes oft times the breath of fame And by this honour shall you ere en-gage The knee hand duty ayre and thriving age Of your honours ever humbly devoted N. W. To the Reader COurteous Reader For to such I write With native candor view this checkred white Be truly eandid to a candidate Whom importunings force to ante-date The travails of his quill and like a grape Ere ripened presse it yet if I escape The censure of these times this Critick age My Muse like Parrats in a wyer cage Shall not doe penance but I 'le not promise it Cause't doth too much o th' lips of greatnesse sit And t is a fault for me to sympathize I bring no anticke maske in strange disguize No sharpe invective nor no Comick mirth Which may to laughter give an easie birth Though t is in use with them that seeke to please These humorous times it being a disease halfe Epidemicall to keepe a phrase Or phansie at staves end nought merits prayse Vnlesse with quibbels every staffe does end Conceited jests which unto lightnesse tend Though every page swels with ingenuous ●lots Yet cry our carpes the Authors are but sots An Elbow-pillow or a motley coate With them are now the cheifest men of note But I nor am nor hope that name to gaine Of Panto mimick yet did nature daigne The Optick glasse of Humours to descrye Each mans ranke humour onely by the eye I would have tun'd my Muse that every page Might swell with humours suting to this age This leafe should talke of love and that of state This of alarums that of wonders prate This of Knights Errante of Enchantement that This to the itching eares of nouels chat But since my starv'd Fortunes mist that I have drawne A picture shadowd ore with double lawne Lest some quick Lyncist with a pearcirg eye Should the young foot-steps of a truth espye Yet something I confesse was borne of late Which makes me age it with an ancient date But let no antick-hunter poste to Stow To trace out truth upon his even snow Annalls are dumbe of such and such a Lord Nor of our amorous paire speake halfe a word Monastick writs doe not Bellama lim Nor Abbey-roules doe teeme a line of him This story has no syres as 't is the vse But weake invention and afeeble Muse These are the parents that abortive birth Give to this Embrion of desired mirth Which in the authors name does humbly crave A charitable censure or agrave The purest-boulted sloure that is has bran Venus her Naeue Helen her staine nor can I thinke these lines are censure-free empalde By th'muses and ' gainst envyes Iavelins mal'd Yet where the faultes but whisper vse thy pen With the quod non vis of the Heathen men And if the crimes doe in lowd Ecchoes speake Thy spunge but not with lashing Satyrs break That sacred bond of friend ship for t' may bee I may hereafter doe as much for thee Nor doe thou think to trample on my Muse Nor in thy lofty third-ayre braves accuse My breast of faintnesse or the ballad-whine For know my heart is full as big as thine And as pure fire heates my octavo bulke As the grand-folio or the Reamish bulke If but oppos'd with envye but vnlesse I truly am what these few wordes expresse Thy ready Freind N. W. TO THE RIGHT vertuous and equally beautiful S ra Inconstanza Bellarizza FAIREST WHEN by much gazing on those glittering beames Which if unmaskt from dayes bright Henchman streames The Rascians eyes doe gaine the curse of yeares The Load-stones swarfie hue their tapers cleares When Vnicornes have gluts or surfets taine By browsing Lycoras they to regaine Their stomackes and a cure crash bitter grasse I leave the application 't is a glasse Wherein the dimmest eye may plainly see What 's due to me from you

force your daughter from this happy state Twixt her and happinesse you make a breach And pull upon your heads a cursed Fate Heavens un-bu●kle will their clowds of raine Death or diseases if you part our traine The body 's better than the sheathing skin And ought with greater care to be maintain'd The guest is farre more worthy than the Inne And ought with greater study to be traind The soule mounts heaven when earrhs aged womb The Skeleton her issue does entombe A way with arguments in vain you plead Our vow quoth they lo●kt not her girdle ever I quoth Pazzella doe abjure the Tede Hymen shall ne're my holy orders sever But spite of all the trickes the world does nurse I le keepe my virgines from the bridall curse Without demurres Don Rivelezzo then With shrill voyc't trumpet made an eccho speake Straight was the house environed with men Which with their leaden gloabes an entrance break The aire was frighted with the powder-thunder The bellowing noyse did split the rocks in sunder Affrighted thus the Matrone bid them gang And to Bellama gave a sad adiew Yet in her heart she grypt with Envies fang And o're her lookes a vaile of sorrow drew The joyfull parents having got their daughter Gave a farewell unto the house with laughter Leaving the Coach and Cloyster wee 'l take part With poore Albino in his woe and griefe Who seeing Fortune his designes did thwart And Neptunes grand-child brought him no reliefe Did think to win her presence in disguise He that but one way tries is hardly wise He plotted to invest himselfe with robe Might speak him nobly borne and gallant haire To some vaste measures of this wealthy globe Seated aloft in honours Ovall chaire Procure him then some store of laced capes To wait on him with servile garbes and shapes Pretending to be one o th' Spanish court Giving strange accents to our moderne speech And hither came his wandring minde to sport But that he faces lackt to tune each breech Besides he knew the Matrones care was such She love untwisted in the eye or touch Then a new project did he get on 's braine And sheard the downy mosse from his smooth chin Intending to be one o th' Virgine-traine Like Iupiter huskt in a female skin But that he feard religion could not bridle His active heate twixt linnen to beidle He thought his breaking voyce would him betray Vnlesse he said he ever had a cold He feard the curtesie and the female play Or that his face would make him seeme too old But above all he feard he should not lock His legges within the compasse of a smock In costly vestures he would be arrayde Of high discent and fearing lest his Sire Would force him to an hated pillow strayd With them to teene the holy vestall sire He would be nobly borne not out of pride But to be sheeted by Bellama's side He had no treasure but would promise faire That setled there he should be fed in state Hoping to win the porter with kinde aire That with Bellama he might thread the gate He all would venture and upon this plot Would place his fortunes and the Gordian kno●● In such accoutrement he vailed was That to himselfe Albi●o was not knowne He looked for Albino's face i th' glasse But nothing of himselfe t 'himselfe was showne Each way a mayd enricht with speciall grace As though he had unslow●'d Adoni● face He stil'd himselfe Ph●●●●che onely childe To him who at that time was Fo●●o's Duke And was so like to her whom he was stil'd That she could searcely say t was not her look For what 's of Issa and her picture writ Was found in them they taskt the Poets wit Vnto this Virgine-cage she fast did pace And knocking at the gate the Porter came Who seeing riches on her back and face With humble voyce desir'd to know her name My name good friend quoth she Phoeliche is I come to taste your choyce Monastick blisse Madam Avaro sayd our rubbish stone With cement joynd shall pretious straight be made In that they shall enspheare so faire an one Phoeliche smiling at the porter sayd Hath time with Iron jawes eate out this part Which now these Masons do repaire by Art And truth it was Phoeliche Folco's heire Flying the disaster of an hated Tede Coucht in disguises at a cottage bare But how when where task not my amorous lede So that Pazzella's faith writ on her brow The noble treasures of Phoeliches vow Not time it was but an unhappy houre The porter sayd we had a vertuous faire Daughter unto a man of mighty power So like your selfe I think you sisters are How laregely fiattry has disperst its song That it does oyle and smooth a porters tongue Bellama hight by her uncourteous syre Fetcht hence who when my Lady did deny Begirt our holy walles with sulphure fire And summond harnest men which close did lye● They with their leaden worlds at us did play And frighted as you see these stones away Phoeliche knowing that her Adamant Th'impulsive cause of this her virgin-vow Was vanisht thence and gleames of joy did want And wanning for●ow reveld on her brow Scarce could she speak every joynting trembled Yet fear'd the Porter and her feare dissembled Pazzella and the virgines her esteem'd Seeing her feature and un-equald grace Before they knew his parentage or deem'd He was descended from high Folco's race But knowing that their joyes did swell so high That griefe for sorrow slinkt aside to cry But ere the next dayes Sun to let out day Nights Ebon box unlockt she did not brook To heare their private whispers talke and pray Erect the host and kisse a guilded booke For her Bellama has possessed solely So that their water could not make her holy In stead of Virgin-mother she would say My dearest Lady heare my sad complaint Nor to she-Saints would she devoutly pray ' Cause none but her Bellama was a Saint Vnto Loretta as Bellam ' she sweares And calls their holy water but her teares She wondred oft how her Bellama did Two yeares continue in this hated cell And in her thoughts she often-times her chid For dwelling where but formall good does dwell Since in her absence she could scarce abide To sojorne here a double eventide Her braines acquainted was no whit with sloath But plotted how she might escape that Iayle And to this end she vowd her virgin-oath Should for her quick returning put in bayle She thought her breach of virgin-oath no sin Because she onely wore the formall skin She mist in ransacking her Cabbinet A pretious jewell farre exceeding rate Which on her brow the Lady Dutchesse set As a true pledge of her indulgent care Far richer than that pearle which Egypts Queen● Quaft to her marke dissolv'd in liquor keene But for all this a curious fit of man Did force her for assay to enter in To see if fasting did their Rosies wan Or folly led not