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	word_n	16,774	5	4.1389	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A11127	Humors ordinarie where a man may be verie merrie, and exceeding vvell vsed for his sixe-pence.	Rowlands, Samuel, 1570?-1630?	1605 (1605)	STC 21394; ESTC S956	19,725	54

HVMORS ORDINARIE Where a man may be verie merrie and exceeding vvell vsed for his Sixe-Pence AT LONDON Printed for William Firebrand and are to be sold at his shop in Popeshead Pallace right ouer against the Tauerne doore TO THE GENTLEmen Readers HVmours is late crown'd king of Caueeleres Fantastique-follies grac'd common fauour Ciuilitie hath serued out his yeares And scorneth now to waite on good-behauiour Gallants like Richard the Vsurper swagger That had his hand continuall on his dagger Fashions is still consort with new ●ound shapes And feedeth daylie vpon strange disguise We shew our selues imitating Apes Of all the toyes that Strangers heades deuise For ther 's no habit of hell-hatched sinne That we delight not to be cloathed in Some sweare as though they Stares from heauen could pu●● And all their speech is pointed with the stabbe When all men know it is some coward gull That is but Champion to a Shordich drabbe Whose feather is his heades lightnes-proclaimer Although he seeme some mightie monster-tamer Epicurisme cares not how he liues But still pursueth brutish Appetite Disdaine regardes not what abuse he giues Carelesse of wrongs and vnregarding right Selfe-loue they say to selfe-conceit is wed By which base match are vgly vices bred Pride reuells like the roysting Prodigall Stretching his credit that his purse strings cracke Vntill in some distresfull gaile he fall Which wore of late a Lordship on his backe Where he till death must lie in pawne for debt Griefes night is neare when pleasures sun is set Vaunting hath got a mighty thundring voyce Looking that all men should applaude his sound His deedes are singular his words be choyce On earth his equall is not to be found Thus Vertu 's hid with Follies iugling mist And hee s no man that is no humorist Samuel Rovvlands TO POETS GOod honest Poets let me craue a boone That you would write I do not care how soon Against the bastard humors howrely bred In euery mad braind wit-worne giddy head At such grosse follies doe not sit and winke Belabour these same Gulls with pen and inke You see some striue for faire hand-writing fame As Peter Bales his signe can proue the same Gracing his credit with a golden Pen I would haue Poets proue more taller men In perfect letters rested his contention But yours consists in Wits choise rare inuention Wil you stand spending your inuentions treasure To teach Stage Parrets speak for penny pleasure Whlle you your selues like musick-soūding Lutes Fretted and strung gaine them their silken sutes Leaue Cupids cut womens face-flattring praise Loues subiect growes too threed-bare now adais Change Venus Swans to write of Vulcans Geese And you shall merit golden Pennes a peece MIrth pleaseth some to others t' is offence Some wish ●'haue follies told seme dislike that Some commend plaine conceits some profound sense And most would haue themselues they know not what Then he that would please all and himselfe too Takes more in hand then he is like to doo SATIR EVen like the chalking Vintners at the barre That bids all welcome what so e're they are So they passe quiet in and out a doore And make no swaggering to discharge their score I Satir stand at entrance of this booke And each kind guest may for my welcome looke All pleasant humours I inuite come here And with these Epigrams make thē good cheere Let Melancholie walke most dogged by All sprightly Poets doe the same defie To feast with wit he neuer had good tast I scorne to haue him at our Table plast Let him goe plod for leases buy and sell And day by day his bags of money tell And grudge to giue himselfe a pint of Wine Out arrant Asse he is no guest of mine But all mirths friends I doe embrace most kind Better I wish pray take such as you find EPIGRAMES EPIG 1. MOnsieur Domingo is a skillfull man For much experience he hath lately got Prouing more Phisike in an Ale-house Can Then may be found in any vintners pot Beere he protests is sodden and refin'd But this he speakes being single peny lin'd For when his purse is swolne but sixpence bigge Why then he sweares now by the Lord I thinke All Beere in Europe is not worth afigge A cup of Claret is the onely drinke And thus his praise from Beere to Wine doth go Euen as his Purse in pence doth ebbe and flow EPIG 2. Who seekes to please all men each way And not himselfe offend He may begin his worke to day But God knowes when he 'le end EPIG 3. BOREAS HAng him base Gul I le stab him by the Lord If he presume to speake but halfe a word I le paunch the villaine with my Rapiers point Or hew him with my Fauchon ioint by ioint Through both his checkes my Ponniard hee shall haue Or mincepie-like I le mangle out the slaue Aske who I am you whorson fries-gown patch Call me before the Constable or watch Cannot a Captaine walk in the Kings high-way Swouns who de speak to know ye villaines ha You drūken pesants runs your tongs on wheels Long you to see your guts about your heeles Doost loue me Tom let goe my Rapier then Perswade me not from killing nine or ten I care no more to kill them in brauado Then for to drinke a pipe of Trinidado My minde to patience neuer will restore me Vntill their blood do gush in streams before me Thus doth Sir Launcelot in his drunken stagger Sweare curse raile threatē protest swagger But being next day to sober answer brought Hee 's not the man can breede so base a thought EPIG 4. WHen Thraso meetes his friend he sweares by God Vnto his chamber he shal welcome be Not that hee 'le cloy him there with rost or sod Such vulgar diet with Cookes shops agree But hee 'le present most kinde exceeding franke The best Tobacco that he euer dranke Such as himselfe did make a voyage for And with his own hands gather'd frō the ground All that which others fetch he doth abhor His grew vpon an Iland neuer found Oh rare compound a dying horse to choke Of English fier and of India smoke EPIG 5. DIogenes one day through Athens went With burning Torch in Sun-shine his intent Was as he said some honest man to finde For such were rare to meete or he was blinde One late might haue don wel like light t' haue got That sought his wife met her and knew her not But stay cry mercy she had on her maske How could his eyes performe that spying taske T' is very true t' was hard for him to doo By Sun and Torch let him take Lant-horne too EPIG 6. ALas Delfridus keepes his bed God knowes Which is a signe his worship 's very ill His griefe beyond the grounds of phisicke goes No Doctor that comes neare it with his skill Yet doth he eate drinke talk sleepe profound Seeming to all mens iudgements healthful sound Then ges●e the