Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	year_n	yield_v	youth_n	20	3	7.5479	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A03804	Certaine deu[is]es and shewes presented to her Maiestie by the gentlemen of Grayes-Inne at her Highnesse court in Greenewich, the twenty eighth day of Februarie in the thirtieth yeare of her Maiesties most happy raigne	Hughes, Thomas, fl. 1587.; Trotte, Nicholas, Sir, d. 1636.; Fulbeck, William, 1560-1603?	1587 (1587)	STC 13921; ESTC S104286	42,890	57

first What then for mindes which haue reuenging moodes And ne'r forget the crosse they forced beare Whereto if reconcilement come it makes The t'one secure whiles t'other workes his will Attonement sield defeates but oft deferres Reuenge beware a reconciled foe ARTH. Well what auailes to linger in this life Which Fortune but reserues for greater griefe This breath drawes on but matter of mishap Death onely frees the guiltlesse from anoies Who so hath felt the force of greedie Fates And dur'de the last decree of grislie death Shall neuer yeeld his captiue armes to chaines Ner drawne in triumph decke the victors pompe HOWE What meane these wordes Is Arthur forc'de to feare Is this the fruit of your continuall warres Euen from the first remembrance of your youth ARTH. My youth I graunt and prime of budding yeares Puft vp with pride and fond desire of praise Foreweéning nought what perils might ensue Aduentured all and raught to will the raignes But now this age requires a sager course And will aduisde by harmes to wisedome yeélds Those swelling spirits the selfe same cause which first Set them on gog euen Fortunes fauours quaild And now mine oftnest skapes doe skare me most I feare the trappe whereat I oft haue tript Experience tels me plaine that Chance is fraile And oft the better past the worse to come CADO. Resist these doubts t is ill to yeeld to harmes T' is safest then to dare when most you feare ARTH. As safe sometimes to feare when most we dare A causelesse courage giues repentance place HOWE If Fortune fawns ARTH. Each waie on me she frowns For winne I loose I both procure my griefe CADO. Put case you winne what griefe ARTH. Admit I doe What ioy CADOR Then may you rule ARTH. When I may 〈◊〉 CADO. To rule is much ARTH. Small if we couet naught CADO. Who couets not a Crowne ARTH. He that discernes The swoord aloft CADOR That hangeth fast ARTH. But by A haire CADOR Right holdes it vp ARTH. Wrong puls it do● CADO. The Commons helpe the King ARTH. They sometimes hurt CADO. At least the Peeres ARTH. Sield if allegeance want CADO. Yet Soueraigntie ARTH. Not if allegeance faile CADO. Doubt not the Realme is yours ARTH. T' was mine till now CADO. And shall be still ARTH. If Mordred list CADOR T' were we● Your crowne were wonne ARTH. Perhaps t is bettes lost ●OWE The name of rule should moue a princely minde ●RTH. Trust me bad things haue often glorious names ●OWE The greatest good that Fortune can affoord ●RTH. A dangerous good that wisedome would eschue ●OWE Yet waigh the hearesaie of the olde renowme And Fame the Wonderer of the former age Which still extolls the facts of worthyest wights Preferring no deserts before your deeds Euen she exhorts you to this new attempts Which left vntryde your winnings be but losse ●RTH. Small credit will be giuen of matters past To Fame the Flatterer of the former age Were all beleeu'd which antique bruite imports Yet wisedome waighes the perill ioinde to praise Rare is the Fame marke well all ages gone Which hath not hurt the house it most enhaun'st Besides Fame 's but a blast that sounds a while And quickely stints and then is quite forgot Looke whatsoe'r our vertues haue atchieu'd The Chaos vast and greédy time deuours To day all Europe rings of Arthurs praise T'wilbe as husht as if I ne'r had beéne What bootes it then to venture life or limme For that which neédes e'r long we leaue or loose CADO. Can blinde affection so much bleare the wise Or loue of gracelesse Sonne so witch the Sire That what concernes the honour of a Prince With Countries good and Subiects iust request Should lightly be contemned by a King When Lucius sent but for his tribute due You went with thirteéne Kings to roote him out Haue Romaines for requiring but their owne Aboad your nine yeares brunts Shall Mordred scape That wrong'd you thus in honour Queéne and Realme Were this no cause to stirre a King to wrath Yet should your Conquests late atchieu'd gainst Rome Inflame your minde with thirst of full reuenge ARTH. Indeéde continuall warres haue chafte our mindes And good successe hath bred impatient moodes Rome puffes vs vp and makes vs too too fierce There Brytaines there we stand whence Rome did fall Thou Lucius mak'st me proude thou heau'st my minde But what shall I esteéme a Crowne ought else Then as a gorgeous Crest of easelesse Helme Or as some brittel mould of glorious pompe Or glittering glasse which whiles it shines it breakes All this a sodaine Chaunce may dash and not Perhaps with thirteéne Kings or in nine yeares All may not finde so slowe and lingring Fates What that my Country cryes for due remorse And some reliefe for long sustained toyles By Seas and Lands I dayly wrought her wrecke And sparelesse spent her life on euery foe Eche where my Souldiers perisht whilest I wonne Throughout the world my Conquest was their spoile A faire reward for all their deaths for all Their warres abroad to giue them ciuill warres What bootes it them reseru'd from forreine foiles To die at home What ende of ruthelesse rage At least let age and Nature worne to nought Prouide at length their graues with wished groanes Pitty their hoary haires their feéble fists Their withered lims their strengths consumde in Campe Must they still ende their liues amongest the blades Rests there no other Fate whiles Arthur raignes What deéme you me a furie fedde with blood Or some Ciclopian borne and bred for braules Thinke on the minde that Arthur beares to peace Can Arthur please you no where but in warres Be witnesse Heauens how farre t' is from my minde Therewith to spoile or sacke my natiue soile I cannot yeélde it brookes not in my breast To seeke her ruine whom I erst haue rulde What reliques now so e'r both ciuill broyles And forreine warres haue left let those remaine Th' are fewe inough and Brytaines fall too fast The second scene An Herault from Mordred HOWE LO here an Herault sent from Mordreds Campe A froward message if I reede aright We mought not stirre his wrath perhaps this may Perswasions cannot moue a Brytaines moode And yet none sooner stung with present wrong HERAV. Haile peérelesse Prince whiles Fortune would our King Though now bereft of Crowne and former rule Uouchsafe me leaue my message to impart No iotte inforst but as your Sonne affords If here you stay but threé dayes to an ende And not forthwith discharge your bands and hoast It 's Mordreds oath Assure your selfe to die But if you finde your courage so to serue As for to stand to your defence with force In Cornewell if you dare he 'il trye it out ARTH. Is this the choyce my Sonne doth send his Sire And must I die Or trye it if I dare To die were ill thus to be dar'd is worse Display my standart forth let Trumpe and Drumme Call Souldiers nere to heare their

good The meanes to clame it in such sorte was bad Yea rather then my Realme and natiue soile Should wounded fall thus brused with these warres I should haue left both Realme and right and all Or dur'd the death ordaind by Mordreds oath CADO. And yet so farre as Mars coulde bide a meane You hatelesse sought the safegard of them all Whereto the better cause or badder Chaunce Did drawe you still inclinde preferring oft The weaker side sometimes for loue sometimes For right as Fortune swaide your Sonne your selfe So pittie spar'd what reason sought to spoyle Till all at length with equall spoyle was spent CHOR. 3 Would Gods your minde had felt no such remorse And that your foes had no such fauour founde So mought your friends haue had far frendlier Fates If Rebels for their due deserts had dyde The wickeds death is safety to the iust To spare the Traitors was to spoile the true Of force he hurtes the good that helpes the bad In that you sought your Countries gaine t' was well In that you shunned not her losse t' was hard Good is the frend that seekes to do vs good A mighty frend that doth preuent our harmes ARTH. Well so it was it cannot be redrest The greater is my greefe that seés it so My lyfe I feele doth fade and sorrowes flowe The rather that my name is thus extinct In this respect so Mordred did succeede O that my selfe had falne and Mordred liu'd That hauing conquer'd all my foes but him I mought haue left you him that conquer'd me O heauie wretched lotte to be the last That falles to viewe the buriall of my Realme Where each man else hath fealt his seuerall Fate I onely pine opprest with all their Fates CHOR. 4 Although your Highnesse do susteine such greéde As needes enforceth all your Realme to rue Yet since such ruth affordeth no releefe Let due discretion swage each curelesse sore And beare the harmes that run without redresse The losse is ours that loose so rare a Prince The breathlesse body of Mordred in Armour as he fell is brought vpon the Stadge You onely win that see your foe here foilde ARTH. A causelesse foe When warres did call me hence He was in yeares but young in wit too olde As vertue shineth most in comliest wightes When inward gifts are deckt with outward grace So did his witte and feature feede that hope Which falsely trainde me to this wofull hap His minde transformed thus I cannot chuse But long to see what change his face sustaines My blood and kinred doubled in his birth Inspires a mixt and t'wice descending loue Which driues my dying vaines to wish his view Unhealme his luckelesse head set bare his face That face which earst pleas'd me and mine to much CHOR. 1 Seé worthest King the hope of all your Realme Had not his lust to rule preuented all ARTH. I see alas I see hide hide againe O spare mine eyes a witnesse of my crimes A fearefull vision of my former guilte A dreadfull horror of a future doome A present gaule of minde O happie they Whose spotlesse liues attaine a dreadlesse death And thou O haplesse boye O spight of Fates What mought I terme thee Nephew Sonne or both Alas how happie should we both haue bene If no ambitious thought had vext thy head Nor thou thus stem'de to reaue thy Fathers rule But staine thy tyme and not forstalde vs both CADO. The hoat spurde youth that forste the forward steédes Whiles neédes he would his Fathers Chariot guide Neglecting what his Sire had said in charge The fires which first he flung about the poles Himselfe at last most wofull wretch inflamde So to much loue to houer in the Heauens Made him to paie the price of rash attemptes ARTH. What ruth ah rent the wofull Fathers hart That sawe himselfe thus made a Sonnelesse Sire Well since both Heauens and Hell conspir'd in one To make our endes a mirror to the worlde Both of incestious life and wicked birth Would Gods the Fates that linckt our faultes alike Had also fram'de our minds of frendlier mouldes That as our linage had approcht too neere So our affections had not swaru'd to farre Then mought I liu'd t' inlarge the Brytaines praise In rearing efts the first triumphant Troy And after thou succeéding mine attempts Haue spent thy courage in a iuster cause But t' would not be Ambition grew to greate We could not ioyne our mindes our Fates we ioynde And through thy blood a way was made to mine CHOR. 2 And must we neédes O worthiest Peéres forgoe By this vntimely Fate our greatest hope That in your ripest yeares and likelyest time Your chiefest force should on this sodaine fall CHOR. 3 Haue you throughout your youth made Brytaines pompe A Soueraigne of so many Nations stout To th' end ere halfe your age vntimely death Should leaue vs Subiect to our woonted foiles CHOR. 4 See seé our idle hopes our brittle trust Our vaine desires our ouer fickle state Which though a while they sayle on quiet seas Yet sinke in surge ere they ariue to hode O wofull warres O Mordreds cursed pride That thus hath wrought both King and Kingdomes woe CADO. Let plaints and mournings passe set moanes a part They made much of themselues Yea too too much They lou'd to liue that seéing all their Realme Thus topsie turuey turuey turnd would grudge to dye ARTH. Yea sure since thus O Fates your censure seemes That freé from force of forreine foes there rests That Mordred reape the glory of our deaths B' it so driue on your doome worke your decreé We fearelesse bide what bane so e'r you bidde And though our ends thus hastened through your heasts Abruptly breake the course of great attempts Yet goe we not inglorious to the ground Set wish a part we haue perfourmd inough The Irish King and Nation wilde we tamde The Scots and Picts and Orcade Isles we wanne The Danes and Gothes and Friseland men with all The Isles inserted nere those Seas And next The Germaine King and Saxons we subdude Not Fraunce that could preuaile against our force Nor lastly Rome that rues her pride supprest Ech forreine power is parcell of our praise No titles want to make our foes affraide This onely now I craue O Fortune erst My faithfull friend let it be soone forgot Nor long in minde nor mouth where Arthur fell Yea though I Conquerour die and full of Fame Yet let my death and parture rest obscure No graue I neéde O Fates nor buriall rights Nor stately hearce nor tombe with haughty toppe But let my Carkasse lurke yea let my death Be ay vnknowen so that in euery Coast I still be feard and lookt for euery houre Exeunt Arthur Cador CHOR. 1 Lo here the end that Fortune sends at last To him whom first she heau'd to highest happe The flattering looke wherewith he long 〈◊〉 le●● The smiling Fates that oft had fedde his Fame The many warres and Conquests