Selected quad for the lemma: soul_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
soul_n	affection_n	love_n	love_v	7,004	5	6.6942	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A16771	Pasquils mistresse: or The vvorthie and vnworthie woman VVith his description and passion of that furie, iealousie.	Breton, Nicholas, 1545?-1626?	1600 (1600)	STC 3678; ESTC S104767	14,911	50

would true honour crush And make her soule vnto her minde a brush And loues entirely where she takes affection Makes mans life happie in his loues direction She that is Nobly borne and Princely bredde Heauenly enclin'd and holily disposed A Sarahs spirit and a Indiths head And haue her comforts in that care enclosed That haue their rest in vertue all reposed Such an Angelicall Creature in a wife Might make a king to knowe a happie life She that doth rather loue to heare than speake And rather striues to vnderstand than teach And neuer will the bands of honour breake Nor euer seeke to clime aboue her reach Nor in her thoughts let folly make a breach Such a wise wench in true wits wealthinesse Will make a man finde his lifes happinesse Shee that will rather a defect amend Then to defend or any way excuse Nor coine a lie nor an vntrueth defend Nor from a friend a good aduise refuse Nor the true honour of her loue abuse Nor hath that blame that worthily may blot her Makes the man happy for a wife hath got her She that will weare according to her calling Such decent garments as she may maintaine And will not in her busbands eare be bawling To feede her humour with an idle vaine And make his purse beyond his penny straine Such a kinde wench that so her will doth cary Doth make him happy that doth liue to marry She that can goe to market for her meate And not stay twatling there with good wife Twat Come home and dresse it and can kindly eate That which God sendes and be content with that And take the leane together with the fat Know when to be a spender when a sauer Wil make a poore man happy that could haue her She that doth weare but her owne proper heare And hath no beautie but of Natures blisse Can not commaund a kinde of fained teare But when iust cause of hearty sorrowe is And rich or poore will neuer runne amisse Such a true wench to make a happie wife Would make a man to leade a blessed life She that doth beare the eye of modestie The face of grace minde of humilitie The tongue of trueth the heart of honesty The parentage of true Gentilitie In the true notes of true Nobilitie In my conceit would surely prooue a wife To make a Lord to lead a happie life She that is full of liberalitie And to the begger neuer shuts her doore And loues to keepe good hospitalitie And hath delight for to relieue the poore Yet hath a care for to enrich her store Doth make a man a very happie Creature That marries with a wench of such a Nature She that doth hate to brabble brawle and scolde To sweare and lie and talke of Robin Hood And will no longer any question holde Then while she wel may make her iudgemēt good To prooue that shee her selfe hath vnderstood Such a rare wench for a well gouernd wit Wold make him happy that were matcht with it She that is free from infamies deface Wealthie in lands her Cophers full of golde Her minde of vertue and her heart of grace And doth no honour but in vertue holde That true sweete Ladie be she young or olde Will make that man to leade a happie life That knowes what makes man happy in a wife Shee that is mistresse of her owne affection And vnto reason hath subdued her will And will not harken vnto imperfection To leaue the good to entertaine the ill In the true rules of my experience skill I thinke that woman where she is a wife Doth make a man to know a happy life Shee that in wealth and wo sicknes and health Is all alike vnto her setled loue And in the world doth count her chiefest wealth But in the life but of her turtle doue And seekes on earth no other heauens to proue In my conceit who had her to a wife Had no small means to make a happy life She that is wholly giuen to godlynesse And hates to leade the life of wantonnesse And hath true patience in vnhappinesse And onely seekes the spirits wealthinesse In the true weight of honours worthinesse If that a man were in hearts heauinesse With such a wife might liue in blessednesse Now hoping that although the birde be rare The Phoenix in a woman may be found And doubting not but many women are Of their good husbands happinesse the ground I wish the wise a womans worth to sound And deerely loue her for that worthinesse That makes a man to liue in happinesse But if that Youth for wealth wil match with Age And witlesse age will dote on wanton Youth If discontent doe growe to rancors rage When hollow hearts do hammer with vntruthe If ruine then be subiect vnto ruthe What shall I say but sobbe for such a woing Where kindnesse hath no cōfort in the doing Make then thy choyce not all alone by chaunce Let reason guide thine eye honour thy minde Vertue thy heart and so thy thought aduance That wisdomes care may happie comfort finde That if that fortune fall to be vnkinde Yet heauenly loue that doth the life reioyce Will make thee happie in a heauenly choyce If thou canst get thee wealth then doe not want But chiefely take good heed thou want not grace For gratious spirits in the world are skant And conscience liues in such a pittious case That faith on earth can hardly shewe her face And simple loue alas without some liuing Is like a present hardly worth the giuing And therefore leauing each one to their lot To like to loue and liue as likes them best To keepe their choyce or if it like them not When as they feele their spirits most opprest To vse their best discretion for their Rest I wish good husbands all to haue good wiues And all good louing wenches all good liues So hoping that the best will be content To know the worst must haue a time to mend Who haue bin ill may haue a good intent To bring bad humours to a better end Vnto your kindnesse kindly I commend Pasquils mad humour to describe a woman Fit to be lou'd of all or lik't of no man FINIS ❧ PASQVILS DESCRIPTION OF HIS Mistresse with a passion vpon the Ielousie of her match MY sweete Muse beholde a creature Of the world the sweetest feature Garnisht with those inward graces That adorne the fairest faces Which described in their essence Shew the earth a heauenly presence Haires no haires but golden wires Binding life in loues desires Eyes no eyes but starry glories Reasons states and honours stories Cheekes enchaining hearts beholding Lippes maintaining loues vnfolding Necke no necke but alablaster Natures mistresse Reasons master Breasts not breasts but beauties moūtains Of Mine●uas milke the fountaines Armes embracing loues deseruing Hands vnlacing loues preseruing Belly no but Venus bedding All too faire for Vulcans wedding Nauell not but Natures signet All the graces grau'n within it For the secret sweete

a Carde of ten And speake no word but truely and indeede And seeme as though she could abide no men And had no ioy but holy bookes to reede Looke like a flower and be a wicked weede And for her gaine can play the Parasite She were a fit wife for an Hypocrite If she be neither honest faire nor kinde Well fac't wel bodied handed legg'd nor footed Good hart good thought good nature nor good minde But in the poyson of all rancour rooted And in the mire vp to the knees be booted Such a strāge monster fit to match with no mā I thinke t were pittie should be cald a woman But if shee can vse cunning words of Art To make her copper seeme good currant coyne And weepe sweare her loue is from the heart And with an humour iumpe and Issue ioyne And finely so can giue a foole the foine Though she her matters carry nere so cleane She shall be but a conny-catching queane But if she be a foole that can not speake But only blush and looke the tother way And will alone into a corner sneake Because alas she knowes not what to say But loues with children with fooles to play Such a sweete Parnell if a man were mad Might thinke himselfe halfe happie if he had But if she can but picke her fingers ends And pare her nailes and wash wipe her hands Runne to the Faire be merry with her friends And tell her mother how the market stands And picke the sheaues who euer make the bands Such an odde Mawkin were a mistresse fit To make a rich man with the begger sit But if she can both seawe and knit and spinne Seawe slight knit false and spin a rau'led threede And cunningly can play Ioane Siluer pinne With idle humours how a foole to feede If such a lesson she can kindly reede She and a Tinker in a market towne Would helpe to cosen many a silly clowne But if she can be quiet and content Speake faire make curtsie feare for to offend And looke as sober as a Iacke of Lent What is amisse be carefull to amend And bring distempers to a quiet end Oh such a wench would be a member fit To cosen twenty thousand with her wit But if she haue no patience in her passions No settled humour but all in selfe wil No pleasing fansie but in proouing fashions Nor for her meale goe further than the Mill And cares not whether it be good or ill Such a vile baggage were a purgatory To sinke a very soule in misery She that is giuen but to all wickednesse And loues to liue but all in wantonnesse And will be led but all by wilfulnesse And spend her yeares but all in wretchednesse Not caring how to ende in wofulnesse Such a fowle fiend is fit in filthinesse To match the diuell in his hellishnesse She that can looke a head and stroake a beard And picke a moath and finely set a ruffe And make her selfe of euery flie afeard And seeme to take all idle wordes in snuffe And weare no cloath but of the purest stuffe And make her Coll a Nightcap for the cough God helpe the man for she is well enough She that can haue her breakefast in her bed And sit at dinner like a maiden Bride And all the morning learne to dresse her head And after dinner how her eye to guide To shewe her selfe to be the childe of pride God in his mercy may do much to saue her But what a case were he in that should haue her She that will ride but on an ambling Nagge And trauell not aboue a mile an howre Will not be pleased but with the golden bagge And haue her coyne come raining like a showre And giue an Angell for a Gilliflowre That is a wench that if she had a spring Would make a begger that were halfe a King She that can walke the by-lanes and the Allies And make close matches twixt yōg lads wēches And from the mountaines can suruey the vallies And lay such Ambuscadoes in her trenches That she will make her profit of her benches Such an odde whiffler swears that shewil thriue As long as she can finde one man aliue But if she will be cosened with faire speech And think all golde that makes a glistring show And doth mistake a blacke thorne for a Beech Because she doth no better timber knowe If heedelesse will doe feele a helpelesse woe What saies the wag that got the wēch with child Had she beene wise she had not beene beguilde She that can neither boyle nor bake nor brue Nor rarely well conceited for her wit Nor scarcely honest nor was euer true But euery way an idle headed Tit Yet thinkes her selfe for a good husband fit Oh how accursed was that creature borne That tooke that wench to dub him with a horn But hoping there is no such kinde of woman But t was a dreame of some mistaken creatures That women will be curst nor false to no man But of good humours of better Natures And haue their fancies fitting to their features I will describe those gratious womens liues That make good husbāds happy in their wiues She that is faire and wise curteous and kinde Patient to beare the crosses of conceite Of Nature milde and of an humble minde Constant in loue and free from all deceit And will the time of her content awaite Such a true virgine to become a wise Will make a man to knowe a happie life She that is carefull ouer that she hath Painfull in that she wisely vndertaketh And will not tread out of discretions path But all fond idle thriftlesse waies forsaketh That to the least of her dishonour maketh She that is knowne to haue this kinde of cariage Will make a man halfe happie in her mariage She that doth loue to keepe within her house And to the doore can haue a watchfull eye She in her heade that will not leaue a louse Nor in her heart a thought to goe awry From the true course of vertues constancy And keeps the honor of her husbāds bedding Doth make a man twise happy in her wedding She that doth goe to Church but for deuotion And feareth God and loues his word in deede And in her heart will harbour no ill motion That may her fancie with corruption feede And in her garden will abide no weede She to that man that on her vertue staies Giues a prolonging of his happie daies She that forbeares to talke with euery Tit And will not bend her eare to euery tale And will employ the spirit of her wit In keeping passions in true patience pale And for a Nut will not mistake a shale But shun all sly conceits that may beset her Wil make his life thrice happy that can get her She that can truely iudge twixt good and ill And paints her face but with a Maiden blush And to the best doth euer bend her will And cramp all thoughts that