Selected quad for the lemma: saint_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
saint_n	blood_n	drink_v	whore_n	1,518	5	10.5538	5	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A01890	Babels balm: or The honey-combe of Romes religion With a neate draining and straining-out of the rammish honey thereof. Sung in tenne most elegant elegies in Latine, by that most worthy Christian satyrist, Master George Good-vvinne. And translated into tenne English satyres, by the Muses most vnworthy Eccho, Iohn Vicars.; Melissa religionis pontificiae. English	Goodwin, George, fl. 1607-1620.; Vicars, John, 1579 or 80-1652.	1624 (1624)	STC 12030; ESTC S103245	56,801	130

Flie Birds i th' Aire A signe o' th' Crosse is made By their spred wings by which signe They are staid By Sailes and Masts cuts a ship Neptunes waues Euen these doe make a Crosse and this it saues The Plow-man with a Plow-share plowes the ground A blessing-Crosse there also sure is found A Crosse-line cuts the heauenly Axle-tree In Heauen the holy Crosse then figured see On the Sea-shore men doe a Crosse erect The waues thereby That bound to passe are checkt Poyson though drunke can doe thee no great ha●me If with the signe o' th' Crosse thy lips thou charme Great Father worthy Fauter of the Crosse One question of It twixt vs let vs tosse If in the Crosse the euill-sprite feares ought It must the matter or the forme be thought Feares he the matter why then d'ont the sight Of Pyles of Wood Stones Metals him affright Feares he the forme and meerely figured frame Why then doe not all house-crosse-beames him tame A mad Crosse-worship then mad-Zeale displayes When in the Crosse a Crosse to be she sayes But yet the Crosse-waxe which Popes Bulls doe weare Is most vnlike the Crosse which Christ did beare O Romes deare Dedalus expert in toyes Who Wealth to win from fa● Farm●s them emploies Thinkst thou thus fondly me to Foolifie To trust thy Trickes as Truths sound certaintie My Head I then should hold blunt void of wit And wish thy Triple-Crowne thereon to sit Now with thy Nifles Trifles reliques vaine 'T is time to end since they no end containe For thou with all all sorts of reliques rare Gods holy Temple to prophane dost dare Thou searchest Tombes thy Reliques to encrease Not suffering buried Bodies rest in peace Thus thou to th' vnknowne-land of Reliques goest And all thy Reliques all the World-ore showest Thus what with Reliques and such superstition To thee O Christ they scarce can giue admission Yet all is sound Religion for hereby From the Popes Coat all Errour 's forc'd to flie Thus he t' himselfe alone Christs Church fast chaines Here dwels pure Truth here Faith no Fraud remaines And now the Old-worls mustie Household-stuffe Brings to my ready Muse Matter enough Much now swims-vp which sunke to th' bottome lay And store of Rubbish shines now cleare as clay The Image braue of graue Antiquitie Hath Signes of new Signes of true dignitie Old Lawes old Sawes Primitiue-Church most sure All old-Traditions old-Religion pure All are at Rome seene plaine yet dost thou doubt Pure and sure Faith to dwell all Rome throughout Why hence 't is plaine they Faith retaine that they Haue Gods pure worship banisht quite away And Rome for all her new-come Nouelties Straight brings out Signes of old Antiquities And hereby Papists Gibeonites are growne For All that 's theirs is old and ancie●t knowne That gentle Asses-taile which Christ bestrid They haue with Gold and gorgeous gems quite hid Iosephs cast .coates times Teeth haue torne and worne Yet Signes of their first-beautie 'bout are borne A Pot the Virgin Maries Milke doth hold O 't is deare Ware indeed and dearely sold. Much mouldy Masse-Hosts in hid Pixes lie Which smell of Mice-prodigious Batterie He which doth sacred Sions wealth call these Let him Milke Waspes and ioyne together Bees Yet lest Romes Mill grinde thee to powder small Though Faith may faile thou must beleeue them All. So many Bones they 'l of one Martyr show That past perhaps the like in no Oxe grow And oft for Martyrs bones such bones are showne As formerly were Hogs and Dogs bones knowne Scarcely one tombe one coarses leauings keepes So quicke each relique from Sepulchers creepes Rome teeming Rome of fraud and cousenage full These Guiles holds godly grossely men to gull But He that 's well in 's wits spits at them all And smites them with Gods Sword Spirituall Alas how much of Christs most holy Blood Is daily drunke by Romes dry Saints so good Yet a poore drop of Christs his blood most pure This zealant Bottles-vp beleeue it sure This ranke Religious Prelate puissant These things to please God wond'rously doth vant But I beleeue no Pythagorean-Asse Nor his brute thundring Threats a pin doe passe Delphicke Typhaeus ratling rage I scorne His deadlyest drams if not drunke may be borne His combe is cut his power impair'd of late Nor buts he halfe so hard with 's three crown'd pate This great Cumanus yerst did Monarchs fright But since his hornes were hew'd they scorne his might For Vulcans Caecus vomits but in vaine Fumes with fond fury flames which Most disdaine Yet Romes Law-giuing Moses hornes hath left Onely He 's of Noes noble Arke bereft A CORROLLARIE TO THE PREMISES MAny moe Maruels maruellous In Rome are kept most Curious Which in a Bundle and briefe Scope I le binde-vp closely with a Rope Christs Girdle Shoes Coate Haire they haue His Night-Cap Napkin Shirt they saue Last Suppers household Implements His Cradle wounding Instruments His Crowne of Thornes the Sponge and Reed His Sheet Whip Lance that made him bleed Our Ladies Haire-Lace Slippers good Combe Girdle Gowne Ring Cloake Haire Hood Much giuen by Will to th' Triple-Crowne Pure precious Things her gay Silke-Gowne Iohn Baptists Head kept with great care Saint Peters Key Crooke Sword and Chaire Full many Stones that Steuen slew Old shewred sure pure Manna-dew The Holy-Ghosts Clawes Wings and Bill Michaels Sword and Buckler still Of Euch'rist Iarres large Histories Entities many Quidities Inexplicate Inextricate Contentions how to consecrate Popes Palaces and Princely Courts Crimes Sanctuaries Sinne supports Vice-teaching Schooles ills Enginers A Shop of shamelesse Slanderers A gaping Gulfe great Giants-court A Colledge where Prey-Birds resort A House of boystrous blustring Winds A Seed-plot for Seditious-Minds A filthie Mart of Holy-things Which to Gods house abuses brings A fierce Confounder of firme Faith Which Romes most rammish Father hath Abolisht quite by deuillish Dreams And thereby quencht-out Truths bright Beames That Catacath'licke Popes might place Romes Cacolike Religion base Religion veterate false ill-bred Past all Hels Spel● that er'e I read A dead deformed f●ultring Faith Blunt blockish which no Ground-worke hath Hid Myst'ry of Iniquitie Master-Piece of Impuritie Many a Soules vnsauorie Me●te Worme-wood to All that thereof eate Sweet Nectar most pestiferous A deadly Drug pernicious Couents in Combats duellizing Papisticke Armies martiallizing With Censures censuring diuersly As with Foes Blowes euen forc't to die And many Scotists and Thomists And Occamists and Gabr'ellists And Nominals Reals not Any And Syllogists and Criticks many And many Muncks and Seculars And Regular Irregulars And many sottish Censurers And many sly Ly-Enginers And many Rowles of rare Decrees And many Romish Vanities And many Lightning sore Complaints And many thundring strict Constraints And many Sects and Sophisters And many bawdy Batchelers And many Saints most inquinated And many Nointed and Bald-pated And many burn't with sacred Zeale And Foes Fooles to th' Cōmon-Weale And Parricides and Regicides And Demi-Gorgon Popes besides And many Card'nals Coapt in Red And many a proud vain-glorious Head And many dect with Miters Rings And many Whores and fat Kitchins And many Hee-Saints Tombes most rare And many Shee-Saints Chappels faire And many Idols and Colosses And many Masses Asses-Glosses And many Head-Bana's and Head-Tyres And many Droues of fatted Fryers And many Miters many Hoods And many more most impious Goods And Bishopricks meere Mockeries And Bishops Papall Trumperies And monstrous Lyes of Miracles And of Lowd Lyes strange Oracles And Toyes to loade three-hundred Barkes O then Who-e're These sees and markes Must needes cry-out in admiration O Rome the Wonder of each Nation Deo soli omnis gloria VPON THIS BEE-HIVE OR HONEY-COMBE THis Booke 's a Bee not Elephant Much Gaine The Readers Care not Writers Crop may bring Small Bee● small Iems small Pearles much good containe Is Thy small Good small Booke a baser Thing Fooles in their Brests as Chests Enuy doe treasure But in such Riches Reader take no pleasure FINIS * S●apleto● * The ●ope Pauperis es● numerar● pecuspunc * No for he is a Wolfe in ● Sheepes c●at * Aquila non capit Muscas Apocal. 5.6 * Androgini populi vtrisque Naturae * Dialogo 10. pag. 47. * Faso●rum lib. 2. * For Fiat Iulius the 2. * Superbor● Principum Typus * Satan Why then eate they bread Ierusalem Antioch Alexandria Constantinople Non v●cat ex●gu● Proximus ipse sibi Things following from things already demonstrated Note this mysterie of iniqui●i● * A King of Arcadia who to 〈◊〉 Iupiters god-head serued in the flesh of certaine young gentlemen of the Molossian● at a Feast which be made to Iupiter who in detestatiō of that foule fact s●ved ●●is Palar● and turned Lycaon into a Wolfe * Another kind of Canibals in Campania Or fine Linnen * Erichthonius was the sonne of Vulcan hauing feet like a Dragon There was also one Erichtho a woman of Thessalie famous for her multitude of poysons * Andabata w●re certain Fencers that fought blind-fold * Amphisbaena is a Serpent in Lybia with 2. heads one in the rig●t place and the other at his taile both ve●y poysonous * Ionis filia Iustiti● Dea. * Bos Fur Su● alq Sa●erdo● * Suita de Suc.

Confounder killing thy Lambes good To Thee O Christ doth sacrifice thy Blood A painted Lamb 's ador'd deuour'd aliue Thus thus doth Romes Religion rarely thriue Him I will not Religious Holy stile But Common Whore or Couchant Wolfe most vile Gods Church with floods of blood orewhelmed all We may the Pope Saints bloody Butcher call This Field of blood Acheldamae thus showne Makes thee proud Priest a Dog-Wolfe Bitch-Wolfe knowne How many Tesles doe detest with Scath Romes sacrilegious ebbing flowing Faith Which Hee 'le now firme anon infringe and bee A Synon sly not Simon-Peter free For to a Counsell One once call'd secur'd The Guest was slaine the Hoste his Faith abiur'd And whereas Priests Gods Flocks bright Star should be The raging Dog-starre this Vice-Christ we see Christs feeble Flocke the Popes Salue hurts not heales Hee with tart Tortures not milde Med'cines deales I surely thinke that Turkes of All Popes times Ne're wrought 'gainst Christ so many bloody Crimes O what a Man of Blood art Thou to th' Bride By whom Hir offspring Dye in Fire are fryde Popes furious frownes make many vndergoe Deaths Dart Warres Smart Waues finall fatall Woe The Pope and Pluto witnes euery Lowne Thus differ hee hath Hornes Popes triple Crowne All els concurre So well perform'd thou seest All Satans Workes by this Plutonick Priest A time will come when Hee Christs sacred Traine And liuing Members dearely would re-gaine And yet Saints slaughter will not Him suffice But ore Dead Corps dig'd vp Hee 'l tyrannize Nor rests his Fury with Dead bodies fed But this fierce Fiend their Ghosts hath tortured Rachel Thy Church sweete Sauiour craues thy aide Lamenting sore that Shee 's so childlesse made Hir Saints wide Wounds from Rome receiu'd she showes And how with Flames she shines with Blo●d ore-flowes Shee now doth Roses with much ruth bring out Who in sweete peace once made white Lillies sprout In midst of Flames than Flames themselues more bright Thy Martyrs were all clad with fiery Light Nor did her soile want raine to spring and bud Too fertile 't was ore flowne with showres of Blood Popes Founders and Repayrers Diuels were With props of Blood His Throne to build and reare O Christ whilest Thy Saints after Death feard Death They feared not in Life to lose their breath In England heere a Queene being Papists pride By fire how many holy Martyrs dyd'e Nor did Queene Marie of meere Vulgars builde Those Godlesse Flames but burn'd fiue Bishops milde Nay more a Child from Mothers Wombe which brast VVas into th' Fire by Romish Fiends re-cast Lo thus with slaughtered Saints Romes shambles shines No better brau'rie Romes renowne refines Seruant of Seruant● Fellow seruants slayes And so himselfe a Seruant base betrayes This Latian Dragon with Gods Saints makes warre In Blood his foule Face laues than Warres worse farre In one of these fierce Monsters shortest raigne Records report an hundred thousand slaine Nocent the third I take in from the Nocent So many thousands in one Slaughter spent O thou in truth Saints ruth All red oft read VVith Blood of many Martyrs Martyred Slaine corps doe con-corrupt my life alas That Hee Saints Homicide so long doth passe And when O Christ thy Seruants slaine I see Ore-flowing Flouds mine eyes I wish to bee In that Parisian Shambles knowne too well How many guiltlesse Lambes in one weeke fell VVhilst Paris then more blood did drinke than Wine That Towne that time a Tempest was Sanguine Forewarn'd learne wisedome doe not Christ despise VVhom soone Romes Shambles brings to Butcheries Alas Hee 's not Sheeps Peeder but Confounder Black-cankered Conscience Ouicide Sheepe-wounder Hee which growes great by sacred Saints perdition Hastens to Hell with guilty Expedition Thine plagues O Christ by Sufferance subiugate For what they cannot shun they tolerate To these Lifes want is Life their Death no Death Conquest their Crosse to liue to lose their breath Goodnes their Gold the World their Pot Griefe Flame Their Flesh the Reed their Hammer God to frame Blood founded first Christs Church by blood it grew Blood showres It cheeres by Blood t is of red hiew With Blood Vice-Christ Christs Foldes doth filthifie See Men of God See Popish Piety Of Romes false doctrines many Scraps remaine Which my close Hedge is too close to containe Index Expurgatorius Bookes great Bane A Worke well knowne dishonest crafty vaine Robs or rubs out much antique learned Treasure Pils or pals out much at the Popes dis-Pleasure His Censure suffocates Mens Births their Bookes Takes out plaine Truths puts in vile spurious Crookes O horrid hatefull Slaught'r-House foule nefarious To Godly Bookes a plague a torture various The Fathers Strayes not Sonnes then Papists Name Though Fathers theirs All theirs still theirs they claime Their Postils Packets are of Trumperies Hee which in them can find no Wit is wise 'T is plaine All Papists are Traditionists Who terme and trouble vs for Scripturists Which be or what or how many Traditions Or where they are scapes yet Romes Inquisitions Yet These must be obseru'd religiously And be embrac'd with Scriptures dignity What-e're hath part of neither Word nor Writ With Word and Writ in equall State must sit Thus Clementines and Asinines poore packs Wherewith the Pope his Library well thwacks And God knowes what trim toyes and Decretals Must be Gods sacred Scriptures Corriuals Thus that blest Booke must haue no blessed vse More Wealth more worke from others Popes produce Reliques more than Religion they respect And more than Churches Chimnies they affect His Dei's made of Waxe mo●● pure Hee makes the Worlds great Wens and Sores to cure And hee which will not blest Saluation misse Must straitway striue the Popes blest Foote to kisse Water with Wine after Romes custome mixt Assures poore Soules to be with Christ fast fixt The Thorney Crowne O Christ which wrought thy woe A Golden Crowne on a bald-pate doth show A Cocke on Pinnacles of Temples plac't Warnes All with Peter to Repentance haste Waxe-Tapers burnt to grace the Noone-daies light The Gentiles promis'd-Light declare most right But sure those Lights doe plainely intimate The Popes Soules-darknesse and his friends retraite It also shewes that Papists hate Day-light And most like Owles see best in darkest Night Much Faith boiles in his braine his Heart holds none And whilst he brags of Good his Work 's not showne A Pater Noster said puts sinnes away If thou it say resay thrice oft a day These taste to me as Gall to Christ did taste What-ere I read taste trust proue All proues waste What vertue by Christ crucified growes The Mimick-Masse Popes Cleopatra showes Faire Phillis Philomel Calliope Venus Melissa and Melpomene This Romes Religion her Palladium hath This the Idea of the Romish Faith Heere Babels Bawde ruffles in silke and gold In shining Syndon sheltring thefts most bold And with cleane clothes hir damned Dens doth hide That Shee of none a rauening Wolfe be spide Her Face to

grace the Popes Spouse spares no charge For Satans Maske Shee needs not pay so large Vnto All sicke All sound at all times sure The Masse a Medcine comes them all to cure If thou thy Swine sicke of the Measels see A soueraigne Salue the Masse will make to thee A Veniall or a Mortall Sinne to cleere The Masse Gods Might a present Helpe drawes neere Who heares a Masse shall not by day waxe old If the Masse-monger be well paide with Gold For the Heau'ns Poles the Masse neere tyr'd stand still And lazie Lachesis leaues Wheele and Quill For quicke and dead there prayr's and off'rings bee The Masse Messias is an Ape of Thee Nay more the Priest strange wonder dawb'd with Oyle By 's Hoste can Christ to 's Father reconcile i th' Eucharist O Christ God giues vs Thee Canst thou againe by Priests to God giu'n be Thou art O Christ our Priest and Sacrifice What power so like in vnlike Masse-Priests lyes O Pandects of impure Impiety Which th' impious Masse doth seldome let passe by If once a man to Masse admitted bee Goodnesse and Faith omitted he shall see A Puppet-playing Priest makes O foule crime Christs Passe-ouer Sport to passe-ouer time They sure which did Masse-matters institute Than Christ Paul Peter were farre more acute The Priest saies Masse the idiot people mutter While old-wiues petty pretty pray'rs doe vtter A strange Tongue talkes but sense none thence can picke Thus Fickle Fooles Brittle-glasse Bottles licke Let him on th' idle Stage see playes and Sights Which would goe see heare loue and know Masse Rites Hee which conceiues not heares not Euen so Hee Heares sees in vaine which voide of sense doth see Not Sentences but Sense enlights the minde Consent is gone if Sense we doe not finde O how the Munc-key in his Surplis white The merry-Masse and Massing-Priest playes right With hearty laughes my heart in me would chatter When I but read the Masses merry-matter Musick so much sweet Songs shrill singing out Romes sacred Syrens doe so chaunt about These cunning tricks Kings facinate and All Quaffe her adulterous Nectar sp'rituall Christs Ransome thus and our Redemptions pay Shee sells and sits for gaine in Harlots way If then by Christs blood thou thy soule wouldst saue The Pope Soules Hope Masse as Messias craue If thou the Worlds Sin-purger faine wouldst buy I' th' Masse for Money hee s sold easily For a small price the Masse makes Thine cock-sure Christs Merits which Hee dearely did procure Caiaphas doted when hee paid so deere T' haue Christ betray'd Hee 's bought far cheaper heere O formidable God Heau'ns high Commander Seest thou yet suffrest this nefarious slander The sacred Cou'nant Iustice Rites blest Hope So oft abusde misusde by Romes proud Pope O can thy boundlesse Longanimitie To iudge this monstrous Masse yet still passe-by O can thy endlesse Mercy tolerate The Masse Messias Rights to arrogate Though God be slow he 's sure to punish Pride And who his sharpe seuere wrath can abide To strike more sure his Sword he lifts vp long His Leaden-Heeles bring Hands of steele most strong O Deuils deuice accursed feasting place Damned masse of the Masse sinnes bundle base O Pope prophane which with such monsters vilde So idle Idols hast Gods House defilde Art thou Gods Parson proud Faiths Lampe most light Curate of all Gods Cures his Arch-Leuit●e Thee Faiths desiler Christs his Churches Foe My obligated Verse to th' world shall show Whilst life doth last the Whet-stone of my Rhimes My Verses Venome shall be Romes foule Crimes And while my Pen may play the Satyres part Rome shall be stript and whipt and soundly smart OF THAT BLASPHEMOVS FALSE-FICTION OF MERIT AND OF WORKS OF SVPEREROGATION to the Derogation of Christs honour THE FIFTH SATYRE The ARGVMENT On Romes Bawds brow is branded Blasphemie Whose Marke marke here in this grosse Heresie WHo Pseudo Prophet of false Prophets can Thy thundring Blasphemies discusse or scan Christ merited Thou 'lt say that thou mightst merit And Merits dipt in his Bloud dost inherit With Merits mingling Christ dost Monsters make Which from Workes-wages and Faith fashion take Strange iugling Trickes of Merits thou dost plot And mak'st Christs-selfe to merit God knowes what By Merits thou for so the Bargaine 's made Twixt God and Thee hast for Gods Kingdome paid Saluations Sterne and Foredecke Merits are Thy Faith 's in Christ for Faiths Deseruing-share Sole Faith is no Faith is a Carkasse dead Nothing almost rude lumpe a fant'sie fled With Merits Grace-Mediatrixe saues thou sayst But vaine is Hope on God alone that 's plac't Faith fixt on God confusde retires retorts But fixt on Thee Thy goodnesse It supports Faith Physicke is trust in Physicion's fraile And without thine owne worke Both these will faile Thy pray'r is Lord for Merits Mercie show And thy desires desired as debts that grow Boldly thou 'dst breake-ope heau'n Gates by Merit And make thy selfe and thine Gods Throne inherit As Ixion did his Cloud thou'lt this imbrace As thy chiefe Light Delight and heauenly Grace Merits superfluous scums and scraps thou'lt sell Apothecarie kinde to All not well Who ere wants Merits thou canst fill him full And out of Trunks and Treasuries them pull The Iust doe supererogate thou 'lt say And for himselfe and his On merit may Such Iust are superarrogating Elues And merit not for Others nor themselues Stealing Saints Merits thereby to get gold Th' art Merits-Thiefe Merits vnfruitfull mold I wonder where this Chest of Merits stood i th' dayes of our Isachian Patriarchs good Did Rome keepe this trim Treasure of such worth That afterwards Romes Lord might bring it forth For if Romes Ioue a golden gobbet haue He 'le straight raine-downe a showre of Merits braue Gods gifts are free the Elect get grace vnbought The Popes gifts are at most deare prices sought i th' Scriptures none can Tubs of Merits finde But there we reade Grace gratis giues most kinde Vpon Christs bloud God our soules health did place Canst thou then sell this Ransome Pedler base T is a deepe Whirlepoole of most impious bane Which muds the stinking Laerna of thy braine Christ ne're thou sayst t 'vs Righteousnesse imputes Yet Rome Saints-Righteousnesse t 'vs attributes Did free Saint Francis gran● what Christ did not Thy pate and partie Physicke might haue got For sure all Saints that none might Merits lacke Their Merits hid i th' corners of thy Sacke At Rome also Merits Exchange doth stand Whose golden Keyes are at thy chiefe command Porter whereof thou art but in good time Thou mayst be Butler and so higher climbe And as Seas waues all on a heape doe flow Nereus being ne're the lesse when backe they goe So thou alone dost all Saints Merits take And sell thou ne're so many they ne're slake T is in thy power to poure-out Merits treasure For all Store's trusted to the Stewards pleasure Romes gracious streames from her full veines doe thrill That gratefull