Selected quad for the lemma: england_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
england_n	earl_n	edward_n	king_n	18,726	5	4.3841	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A54795	Sportive vvit the muses merriment, a new spring of lusty drollery, joviall fancies, and a la mode lamponnes, on some heroic persons of these late times, never before exposed to the publick view / collected for the publick good by a club of sparkling wits, viz. C.J., B.J., L.M., W.T., cum multis alsis----	Phillips, John, 1631-1706.	1656 (1656)	Wing P2113; ESTC R36677	62,402	221

Suffolk's Dutchess Two children of Edward the third Here lye in Death's cold clutches This is King Edward the third's brother Of whom our Records tell Nothing of note nor say they whether He be in heaven or hell This same is Iohn of Eldeston And he was Earl of Cornwall This is the Lady Phillis Mohun No doubt but she made horns well At first she was Dutchess of York And then the Wife also Of Edward Duke of York and this Two hundred and thirty years ago The Lady Anne Rosse but note ye well That she in Childbed dy'd The Lady Marquess of Winchester Lyes buried by her side Now think your penny will spent good folks And that you are not beguil'd Within this cup doth lye the heart Of a French Embassador's childe Nor can I tell how it came to passe On purpose or by chance The bowels they lye underneath The body is in France The Countess of Oxford her mother The good old Lady Bourleigh And that 's her daughter another Countesse Asunder these not far lye These once were bonny Dames and though There were no coaches then Yet they their breeches jogg'd themselves Or had them jogg'd by men But wo is me those high-born sinners That wont to work so stoutly Are now laid low and 'cause they cann't Their Statues pray devoutly This is the Dutchess of Somerset The Lady Anne by name Wife to the Duke of Somerset Duke Edward of great fame She liv'd in Edward the sixt's time So long ago 't was since How long ago was that I pray Her Husband protected the Prince And underneath this stone doth lye Sir Robert Cecils L●dy low Mother to th' Earl of Salisbury And then cry'd one It may be so In this fair Monum●nt which you see Adorn'd with so many pillars Doth lye the Countess of Buckingham And her Husband Sir George Villers To the late Duke of Buckingham We nere spake of his Brother This old Sir George was Grandfather And the Countess his Grandmother Sir Robert Eatam a Scotch Knight And he was Secretary To both of our late Queens so great Queen Anne and then Queen Mary This was the Countess of Lenox Iclep'd the Lady Marget She was King Iames's Grandmother Which Death I doubt did forget This was Queen Mary Queen of Scots By more then her husband bedded King Iames's Grandmother at the Castle Of Fothringham beheaded The Mother of Henry the seventh This is that lyeth hard by She was the Countess know ye well Of Richmond and Darby Henry the seventh here doth lye VVith his fair Queen beside him He was the Founder of this Chappel Oh may no ill betide him Therefore his Monument 's in bras● The cost was nere the lesse The Duke of Richmond and Lenox Lies there with his Dutchess And here they stand upright in a presse With bodies made of wax With a globe and a wand in either hand And their robes upon their backs General Ireton and his Lady Are here the spoyles of Death And also two of his children This must be said in a breath Here lyes the Duke of Buckingham And the Dutches his wife Whom Felton stabb'd at Portsmouth town And so he lost his life Two children of King Iames these are Nor do our Records vary Sophia in the cradle lies And this is the Lady Mary And this is Queen Elizabeth How the Spaniards did infest her Her Body 's here bury'd with Queen Mary And now she agrees with her Sister Old Devereux Earle of Essex Stands there with his Buff coat The Parliaments first Generall And very stoutly he fought To another Chappel now come we Tho people follow and chat This is the Lady Cottington And the people cry WHO 's THAT This is the Lady Francis Sidney The Countess of Sussex is she And this the Lord Dudley Carleton is And then they look up and see Sir Thomas Bromley lyeth here And eight of his children Four daughters and four sons also Both women grown and men The next is Sir Iohn Fullerton And this is his Lady I trow And this is Sir Iohn Puckering With his fine Bed-fellow That in the middle is th' Earl of Bridgewater Who makes no use of his bladder Although his Countesse lye so nere him And so we go up a ladder King Edward the first a gallant blade Lies under-neath this Stone And this is the chair which ●e did bring A good while ago from Scone In this same Chair till now of late Our Kings and Queens were crown'd Vnder this Chair another stone Doth lye upon the ground On that same stone did Iacob sleep Instead of a Down pillow And after that 't was hither brought By some good honest fellow King Richard the second he lyes here And his first Queen Queen Anne Edward the third lyes here hard by Oh he was a gallant man For this was his two-handed Sword A blade both true and trusty With which he conquer'd France cries one Good Sir 't is very rusty Feel but the weight on 't in your hand Who now with this can fight And then the petticoats and wastcoats Do wonder at his might Here a lyes again with 's Queen Queen Philip A Dutch woman by Record But that 's all one for now alas His P-'s not so long as his Sword King Edward the Confessor lyes Within this Monument fine This Monument was made before William the Conqueror's time There lyes Harry the fifth and there Doth lye Queen Elenor She was Edward the first's wife Which is more than ye knew before Henry the third here lyes ●n●omb'd He was Herb John in Pottage Little he did but still reigned on Although his sons were at ag● Fifty six yeares he reigned King Ere he the Crown would lay by Onely we praise him 'cause he was Last builder of the Abbey There 's General Popham and his Lady A very fine device a If more ye ask concerning him The D. a jot can I say Here Thomas Cecil lyes who 's that Why 't is the Earle of Exeter And this his Countesse is Good Lady To die how it perplexed her Here Henry Cary Lord Hunsdon rests Though a makes a noyse with his name This man was Chamberlain unto Queen Elizabeth of great fame And here one William Colchester Lyes of a certainty An Abbot he was of Westminster And he that sayes no doth lye This is the Bishop of Durham Much bigger then a Fairie Henry the seventh lov'd him well And made him his Secretary Sir Thomas Ruthal what of him Poor Gentleman not a word Onely they bury'd him here but now Behold that man with a sword Humphrey de Bohun who though he were Norborn with me in the same town Yet I can tell he was Earl of Essex Of Hereford and Northampton He was High Constable of England As History well expresses But now pretty maids be of good cheere We 're going up to the Presses And now the Presses open stand And ye see them all a row But more

all my life With oh brave Arthur c. The old woman shreek'd and cry'd And took her daughter aside How now daughter quoth she Are you so forward indeed As for to marry he Without consent of me Thou never saw'st thirteen year Nor art no● able I fear To take any over-sight To rule a mans house aright Why truly mother quoth she You are mistaken in me If time do not decrease I am fifteen yeares at least With oh brave Arthur c. Then Arthur to them did walk And broke them of their talk I tell you Dame quoth he I can have as good as thee For when death my father did call He then did leave me all His barrels and his brooms And a dozen of woden spoones Dishes six or seven Besides an old spade even A brasse pot and whimble A pack-needle and thimble A pudding prick and reele And my mothers own sitting wheele And also there fell to my lot A goodly mustard pot With oh brave Arthur c. The old woman made a rep●y With courteous modesty If needs it must so be To the match I will agree For death doth m● call I then will leave her all For I have an earthen flaggon Besides a three-quart noggin With spickets and fossets five Besides an old bee hive A wooden ladle and maile And a goodly old clouting paile Of a chaff bed I am well sped And there the Bride shall be wed And every night shall wear A bolster stufft with haire A blanket for the bride And a winding sheet beside And hemp if he will it break New curtaines for to make To make all too I have Stories gay and brave Of all the world so fine With oh brave eyes of mine With oh brave Arthur c. When Arthur his wench obtained And all his suits had gained A joyfull man was he As any that you could see Then homeward he went with speed Till he met with her indeed Two neighbours then did take To bid guests for his sake For dishes and all such ware You need not take any care With oh brave c. To the Church they went apace And wisht they might have grace After the Parson to say And not stumble by the way For that was all their doubt That either of them should be out And when that they were wed And each of them well sped The Bridegroom home he ran And after him his man And after him the Bride Full joyfull at the tyde As she was plac'd betwixt Two yeomen of the Guests And he was neat and fine For he thought him at that time Sufficient in every thing To wait upon a King But at the doore he did not miss To give her a smacking kiss With oh brave Arthur c. To dinner they quickly gat The Bride betwixt them sat The Cook to the Dresser did call The young men then run all And thought great dignity To carry up Furmety Then came leaping Lewis And he call'd hard for Brewis Stay quoth Davy Rudding Thou go'st too fast with th' pudding Then came Sampson Seal And he carry'd Mutton and Veal The old woman scolds full fast To the Cook she makes great hast And him she did controul And swore that the Porridge was cold With oh brave c. My Masters a while be brief Who taketh up the Beef Then came William Dickins And carries the Snipes Chickens Bartholmew brought up the Mustard Caster he carry'd the Custard In comes Roger Boore He carry'd up Rabbet● before Quoth Roger I le give thee a C●ke If thou wilt carry the Drake Speak not more nor less Nor of the greatest mess Nor how the Bride did carve Nor how the Groom did serve With oh brave Arthur c. But when that they had din'd Then every man had Wine The maids they stood aloof While the young men made a proof VVho had the nimblest heele Or who could dance so well Till Hob of the hill fell over And over him three or four Up he got at last And forward about he past At Rowland he kicks and grins And he William ore the shi●s He takes not any offence But fleeres upon his wench The Piper he play'd Fadding And they ran all a g●dding With oh brave Arthur c. A SONG 1. THe fourteenth of September I very well remember When people had eaten and fed full Many men they say Would needs go see a Play But they saw a great rout at the red Bull 2. The Soldiers they came The blinde and the lam● To visit and undo the Players And women without Gowns They said they would have Crowns But they were no good Sooth-sayers 3. Then Io Wright they met Yet nothing could get And Tom Iay●' th' same condition The fire men they Wou'd ha' made 'em a prey But they scorn'd to make a petition 4. The Minstrills they Had the h●p that day Well fare a very good token To keep from the chase The fiddle and the case For the instruments scap'd unbroken 5. The poor and the rich The whore and the bitch Were every one at a losse But the Players were all Turn'd as weakest to the wall And 't is thought had the grea●●st losse You must supppose it to be Easter holidayes for now Sisly and Doll Kate and Peg Moll and Nan are marching to Westminster with two Prentices before them who goe swinging their Muckenders in one hand and now and then give a wipe to their greazy foreheads at the door they meet a crowd of Wapping Sea-men Kent-street Broom-men together with the inhabitants of the Bank-side with a Butcher or two prickt in among them There a while they stand gaping for the Master of the Show presently they hear the keyes ring which rejoyces them more than the sound of the Pancake-bell and he peeping over the sp●kes and beholding such a learned Auditory opens the gates of Paradise and by that time they are half got into the first Chappel for you must consider they cannot go all in at once and the man he 's in hast he lifts up his voyce among the Tombs and begins his lurry in manner and form following HEre lyes William de Valence A right good Earl of Pambroke And this is his Monument which you s●● I le swear upon a Book He was High Marshall of England When Harry the third did raign Full out four hundred yeares from hence But he 'll nere be so again Here the Lord Edward Talbot lyes The Earle of Shrewsbury Together with his Countess faire Whom he did ocupy The next to him there lyeth one Sir Richard Peckeshal hight Of whom we alwayes first do say He was a Hampshire Knight And now to tell you more of him There lyes under this Stone His two wives and his daughters four Of whom I knew not one Sir Bernard Brockhurst there doth lye Lord Chamberlain to Queen Anne She was Richard the second's queen And he was King of Englan Sir Francis Hollis the Lady Francis The sam● was

is never said of these Than what is said below Henry the seventh and his fair Queen Edward the first and his Queen Henry the fifth here stands upright And his good wife was this queen The noble Prince Prince Henry King Iames's eldest Son King Iames Queen Anne Qu. Elsabeth And so this Chappel's done Now down the staires come we againe The man goes first with a staff Perchance one tumbles down two steps And then they all do laugh This is the great Sir Francis Vere That so the Spaniards curry'd Four Colonels support his Arms And here h●s body's bury'd That Statu against the wall with one ey Is Major Generall Norrice He beat the Spaniards cruelly As is affirm'd in Stories His six sons there hard by him stand Each one was a Commander And play'd such pranks as nere was known To rescue the Hollander And there doth Sir George Hollis rest Brother to th' Earle of Clare For which when first they tell me One louse I doe not care But he hath something else to fame him For he was Major Generall To Sir Iohn Norrice that brave blade And so they go to dinner all For now the Shew is at an end All things are done and said The Citizen payes for his wife And the Prentice for the maid When th' are got out they stare about And they spie against the wall One with a pole-ax in his hand The greatest foole of all For he his Land did give away But no man knowes wherefore And he made the Common-wealth his Heire Like Flora the great Whore A Pastorall Song 1. A Silly poor Sheepherd was folding his sheep He walked so long he got cold in his feet He laid on his coales by two and by three The more he laid on The cuc-colder was he 2. But alas good wife what shall we do now To buy some more fewell We 'll sell the brown cow To buy some more coales to warm thee and me But the more he laid on the cuc-colder was he 3. Some sheepherds quoth she themselves can warm keep By fleecing their flock and by folding their sheep But when you come home with your tar-box crook It grieves me to see how cuc-cold you doe look 4. Alas wife I walk through dew dirt and mire While you perhaps warm your self without fire With a friend in a corner in such a sort as whereby The warmer you are the cuc-colder am I. A Medly 1. I Sow'd my Seed In a pleasant Field And it grew apace A blessed Harvest There was found To my disgrace And for to reap it I durst not stay My seed is sown I 'm overthrown I must run away 2. To climb a tree Where no boughes be But smooth withall I fain would enter But I dare not venter For fear of fall But above her knees Sir you may not go For being a stranger You may not ranger There will come danger in climbing so 3. Her milk white brest So neatly drest And all things neat Her leg and foot And all things to 't Were made compleat VVith her yellow haire sir when she wa● young That when I kist her Her eyes did glister As 't were the Sun A Medly COme all you Maids that list to marry And you that Husbands want I wish you not long to tarry For Husbands are grown scant Some are grown provident And others all for riches That well is she that is content With the linings of one's Breed up your children to schoole For that 's the best way to teach you●● And let them not play the foole But let them consider the truth For Girles they will caper and kick Oh how they will range about And a wench that is fifteen yeares old Good Lord how she longs for a Prick her out her work And let her Bone-lace weave For when that you most think of them They will you most deceive And you shall never gain a penny But still they will be plucking And think that they shall never have Their bellies full of Furmity is dainty cheere And Fish it must be spent Sir But H. doth swear he 'd rather have The belly of a pretty Wenches ye do me great wrong Which makes me the ruffer to wrinkle And had I not been very strong She had caught fast hold of my Pinching doth not go by strength Therefore you must leave off Sir If you had seen her lye at length Then you had seen brave sport Sir Brave Iack of Winchester had a fine dog The finest that ever was seen He gave it to his Mistress To bear her company This Dog was u●'d to run by her side When she was going to hunt And all the night long it lay in the bed A lick●ng about her Come hu●band away with this filthy curre It makes my fl●sh to rise He left off all and to her did fall And slipt between her Thine or mine for a pinte of wine And we 'l have it for supper Had you but seen her stretcht at length How strongly he did her The Ioviall Tinker THere was a Lady in this Land She lov'd a Gentleman She could not tell what excuse to make To have him now and then But writ a Letter to him And seal'd it with her hand Bid him become a Tinker To clout both pot and pan And when he had the Letter Full well he could it read His Brass and his Budget Then strait did he provide His Hammer and his Pinsors And well they did agree With a long Club on his back And orderly came he And when he came to th' Ladies gates He knocked most hastily● Then who is there the Porter sayes That knocks thus ruggedly I am a ●oviall Tinker And I work for gold and fee If you have any broken brasse Bring it here unto me I am the joviall'st tinker Betwixt this town and London At mending of a pot or pan Or clouting of a Caldron My Brass is in my Budget And my Rivets under my Apron I pray you tell her Ladysh●p I am come to clout her Caldron Madam yon is the strongest tinker Betwixt this town and London He prayes me tell your Ladyship He is come to clout your Caldron O go thy wayes good Porter And let the tinker in For I have work for him to do And money he may gain And when he came into the hall Upon him she did wink Sayes take him into the buttery And make the knave to drink Such meat as we do eat she sayes And such drink as I use For it is not any Tinkers guise Good liquor to refuse She took the Tinker by the hand Her work for him to show And down fast by the Caldron side Laid he the Lady low And gave to her a hammer All in her hand to knock That her own wedded Lord might think The Tinker was at work She put her hand into her purse And pluckt out five good Mark Said take thee this good Tinker And for thy good days work She took