Selected quad for the lemma: lord_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
lord_n	day_n	speak_v	time_n	11,715	5	3.7591	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A39810	The tragedy of Thierry, King of France, and his brother Theodoret as it was diverse times acted at the Blacke-Friers by the Kings Maiesties servants / written by John Fletcher, gent.	Fletcher, John, 1579-1625.; Massinger, Philip, 1583-1640.; Beaumont, Francis, 1584-1616.	1648 (1648)	Wing F1352; ESTC R30457	40,910	42

Priests doubt whether purer Mart. Sir y' are lost Thier. I prethee let me be so Mart. The day weares And those that have beene offering early prayers Are now retiring homeward Thier. Stand and marke then Mart. Is it the first must suffer Thier. The first woman Mart. What hand shall doe it Sir Thier. This hand Martell For who lesse dare presume to give the gods An incense of this offering Mart. Would I were she For such away to die and such a blessing Can never crowne my parting Enter 2 men passing over Thier. What are those Mart. Men men Sir men Thier. The plagues of men light on vm They crosse my hopes like hares who 's that Enter a Priest Mart. A Priest Sir Thierry Would he were gelt Mart. May not these rascalls serve Sir Well hang'd and quarter'd Thierry No. Mart. Here comes a woman Enter Ordella vail'd Thier. Stand and behold her then Mart. I thinke a faire one Thier. Move not whilst I prepare her may her peace Like his whose innocence the gods are pleas'd with And offering at their altars gives his soule Far purer then those fires pull heaven upon her You holy powers no humane spot dwell in her No love of any thing but you and goodnesse Tie her to earth feare be a stranger to her And all weake bloods affections but thy hope Let her bequeath to women heare me heaven Give her a spirit masculine and noble Fit for your selves to aske and mee to offer O let her meete my blow doate on her death And as a wanton vine bowes to the pruner That by his cutting off more may encrease So let her fall to raise me fruit hale woman The happiest and the best if thy dull will Do not abuse thy fortune France ere found yet Ordella She is more then dull Sir lesse and worse then woman That may inherit such an infinite As you propound a greatnesse so neare goodnesse And brings a will to rob her Thier. Tell me this then Was there ere woman yet or may be found That for faire same unspotted memory For vertues sake and onely for it selfe sake Has or dare make a story Ordella Many dead Sir Living I thinke as many Thier. Say the kingdome May from a womans will receive a blessing The king and kingdome not a private safety A generall blessing Lady Ordella A generall curse Light on her heart denyes it Thier. Full of honor And such examples as the former ages Were but dim shadowes of and empty figures Ordella You strangely stir me Sir and were my weakenesse In any other flesh but modest womans You should not aske more questions may I do it Thier. You may and which is more you must Ordella I joy in 't A bove a moderate gladnesse Sir you promise It shall be honest Thier. As ever time discover'd Ordella Let it be what it may then what it dare I have a minde will hazard it Thier. But harke yee What may that woman merit makes this blessing Ordella Onely her duty Sir Thier. 'T is terrible Ordella 'T is so much the more noble Thier. 'T is full of fearefull shaddowes Ordella So is sleepe Sir Or any thing that 's meerely ours and mortall We were begotten gods else but those feares Feeling but once the fiers of nobler thoughts Fly like the shapes of clouds we forme to nothing Thier. Suppose it death Ordella I do Thier. And endlesse parting With all we can call ours with all our sweetnesse With youth strength pleasure people time nay reason For in the silent grave no conversation No joyfull tread of friends no voyce of lovers No carefull fathers councell nothing's hard Nor nothing is but all oblivion Dust and an endlesse darknesse and dare you woman Desire this place Ordella 'T is of all sleepes the sweetest Children begin it to us strong men seeke it And kings from heigth of all their painted glories Fall like spent exhaltations to this center And those are fooles that feare it or imagine A few unhandsome pleasures or lifes profits Can recompence this place and mad that staies it Till age blow out their lights or rotten humors Bring them despers'd to the earth Thier. Then you can suffer Ordella As willingly as say it Thier. Martell a wonder Here is a woman that dares die yet tel me Are you a wife Ordella I am Sir Thier. And have children She sighes and weepes Ordella O none Sir Thier. Dare you venter For a poore barren praise you ne're shall heare To part with these sweet hopes Ordella With all but Heaven And yet die full of children he that reads me When I am ashes is my son in wishes And those chaste dames that keepe my memory Singing my yearely requiems are my daughters Thier. Then there is nothing wanting but my knowledge And what I must doe Lady Ordella You are the King Sir And what you doe I 'le suffer and that blessing That you desire the Gods showre on the Kingdome Thier. Thus much before I strike then for I must kill you The Gods have will'd it so they 'r made the blessing Must make France young againe and mee a man Keepe up your strength still nobly Ordella Feare me not Thier. And meet death like a measure Ordella I am stedfast Thier. Thou shalt bee sainted woman and thy tombe Cut out in Cristall pure and good as thou art And on it shall be graven every age Succeeding Peeres of France that rise by thy fall Tell thou liest there like old and fruitfull nature Darest thou behold thy happinesse Ordella I dare Sir Thier. Ha Pulls off her vaile let ts fall his sword Mar. O Sir you must not doe it Thier. No I dare not There is an Angell keepes that paradice A fiery Angell friend O vertue vertue Ever and endlesse vertue Ordella Strike Sir strike And if in my poore death faire France may merit Give me a thousand blowes be killing mee A thousand dayes Thier. First let the earrh be barren And man no more remembred rise Ordella The neerest to thy maker and the purest That ever dull flesh shewed us O my heart-strings Exit Mart. I see you full of wonder therefore noblest And truest amongst women I will tell you The end of this strange accident Ordella Amazement Has so much wove upon my heart that truly I feele my selfe unfit to heare O Sir My Lord has slighted me Mart. O no sweet Lady Ordella Rob'd me of such a glory by his pitie And most unprovident respect Mart. Deare Lady It was not meant to you Ordella Else where the day is And houres distinguish time time runnes to ages And ages end the world I had been spoken Devi I 'le tell you what it was if but your patience Will give me hearing Ordella If I have transgrest Forgive me Sir Mart. Your noble Lord was counsell'd Grieving the barrennesse betweene you both And all the Kingdome with him to seeke out A man that knew the secrets of the Gods Hee went found such a