Selected quad for the lemma: truth_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
truth_n	fair_a	young_a	youth_n	81	3	7.7085	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A36625	Fables ancient and modern translated into verse from Homer, Ovid, Boccace, & Chaucer, with orginal poems, by Mr. Dryden.	Dryden, John, 1631-1700.; Ovid, 43 B.C.-17 or 18 A.D.; Chaucer, Geoffrey, d. 1400.; Boccaccio, Giovanni, 1313-1375.; Homer.	1700 (1700)	Wing D2278; ESTC R31983	269,028	604

a long trail of Light to thee descending down If in thy Smoke it ends Their Glories shine But Infamy and Villanage are thine Then what I said before is plainly show'd That true Nobility proceeds from God Not left us by Inheritance but giv'n By Bounty of our Stars and Grace of Heav'n Thus from a Captive Servius Tullus rose Whom for his Virtues the first Romans chose Fabritius from their Walls repell'd the Foe Whose noble Hands had exercis'd the Plough From hence my Lord and Love I thus conclude That tho' my homely Ancestors were rude Mean as I am yet I may have the Grace To make you Father of a generous Race And Noble then am I when I begin In Virtue cloath'd to cast the Rags of Sin If Poverty be my upbraided Crime And you believe in Heav'n there was a time When He the great Controller of our Fate Deign'd to be Man and liv'd in low Estate Which he who had the World at his dispose If Poverty were Vice wou'd never choose Philosophers have said and Poets sing That a glad Poverty 's an honest Thing Content is Wealth the Riches of the Mind And happy He who can that Treasure find But the base Miser starves amidst his Store Broods on his Gold and griping still at more Sits sadly pining and believes he 's Poor The ragged Beggar tho' he wants Relief Has not to lose and sings before the Thief Want is a bitter and a hateful Good Because its Virtues are not understood Yet many Things impossible to Thought Have been by Need to full Perfection brought The daring of the Soul proceeds from thence Sharpness of Wit and active Diligence Prudence at once and Fortitude it gives And if in patience taken mends our Lives For ev'n that Indigence that brings me low Makes me my self and Him above to know A Good which none would challenge few would choose A fair Possession which Mankind refuse If we from Wealth to Poverty descend Want gives to know the Flatt'rer from the Friend If I am Old and Ugly well for you No leud Adult'rer will my Love pursue Nor Jealousy the Bane of marry'd Life Shall haunt you for a wither'd homely Wife For Age and Ugliness as all agree Are the best Guards of Female Chastity Yet since I see your Mind is Worldly bent I 'll do my best to further your Content And therefore of two Gifts in my dispose Think e'er you speak I grant you leave to choose Wou'd you I should be still Deform'd and Old Nauseous to Touch and Loathsome to Behold On this Condition to remain for Life A careful tender and obedient Wife In all I can contribute to your Ease And not in Deed or Word or Thought displease Or would you rather have me Young and Fair And take the Chance that happens to your share Temptations are in Beauty and in Youth And how can you depend upon my Truth Now weigh the Danger with the doubtful Bliss And thank your self if ought should fall amiss Sore sigh'd the Knight who this long Sermon heard At length considering all his Heart he chear'd And thus reply'd My Lady and my Wife To your wise Conduct I resign my Life Choose you for me for well you understand The future Good and Ill on either Hand But if an humble Husband may request Provide and order all Things for the best Your's be the Care to profit and to please And let your Subject-Servant take his Ease Then thus in Peace quoth she concludes the Strife Since I am turn'd the Husband you the Wife The Matrimonial Victory is mine Which having fairly gain'd I will resign Forgive if I have said or done amiss And seal the Bargain with a Friendly Kiss I promis'd you but one Content to share But now I will become both Good and Fair. No Nuptial Quarrel shall disturb your Ease The Business of my Life shall be to please And for my Beauty that as Time shall try But draw the Curtain first and cast your Eye He look'd and saw a Creature heav'nly Fair In bloom of Youth and of a charming Air. With Joy he turn'd and seiz'd her Iv'ry Arm And like Pygmalion found the Statue warm Small Arguments there needed to prevail A Storm of Kisses pour'd as thick as Hail Thus long in mutual Bliss they lay embrac'd And their first Love continu'd to the last One Sun-shine was their Life no Cloud between Nor ever was a kinder Couple seen And so may all our Lives like their's be led Heav'n send the Maids young Husbands fresh in Bed May Widows Wed as often they can And ever for the better change their Man And some devouring Plague pursue their Lives Who will not well be govern'd by their Wives OF THE PYTHAGOREAN PHILOSOPHY FROM Ovid's Metamorphoses BOOK XV. OF THE PYTHAGOREAN PHILOSOPHY The Fourteenth Book concludes with the Death and Deification of Romulus The Fifteenth begins with the Election of Numa to the Crown of Rome On this Occasion Ovid following the Opinion of some Authors makes Numa the Schollar of Pythagoras and to have begun his Acquaintance with that Philosopher at Crotona a Town in Italy from thence he makes a Digression to the Moral and Natural Philosophy of Pythagoras On both which our Author enlarges and which are the most learned and beautiful Parts of the whole Metamorphoses A King is sought to guide the growing State One able to support the Publick Weight And fill the Throne where Romulus had sat Renown which oft bespeaks the Publick Voice Had recommended Numa to their choice A peaceful pious Prince who not content To know the Sabine Rites his Study bent To cultivate his Mind To learn the Laws Of Nature and explore their hidden Cause Urg'd by this Care his Country he forsook And to Crotona thence his Journey took Arriv'd he first enquir'd the Founder's Name Of this new Colony and whence he came Then thus a Senior of the Place replies Well read and curious of Antiquities 'T is said Alcides hither took his way From Spain and drove along his conquer'd Prey Then leaving in the Fields his grazing Gows He sought himself some hospitable House Good Croton entertain'd his Godlike Guest While he repair'd his weary Limbs with rest The Hero thence departing bless'd the Place And here he said in Times revolving Race A rising Town shall take his Name from thee Revolving Time fulfill'd the Prophecy For Myscelos the justest Man on Earth Alemon's Son at Argos had his Birth Him Hercules arm'd with his Club of Oak O'ershadow'd in a Dream and thus bespoke Go leave thy Native Soil and make Abode Where AEsaris rowls down his rapid Flood He said and Sleep forsook him and the God Trembling he wak'd and rose with anxious Heart His Country Laws forbad him to depart What shou'd he do 'T was Death to go away And the God menac'd if he dar'd to stay All Day he doubted and when Night came on Sleep and the same forewarming Dream begun Once more the God stood

That born to Folly they prefum'd to know And could not see the Serpent in the Grass But I my self presume and let it pass Silence in times of Suff'ring is the best 'T is dang'rous to disturb a Hornet's Nest. In other Authors you may find enough But all they say of Dames in idle Stuff Legends of lying Wits together bound The Wife of Bath would throw 'em to the Ground These are the Words of Chanticleer not mine I honour Dames and think their Sex divine Now to continue what my Tale begun Lay Madam Partlet basking in the Sun Breast-high in Sand Her Sisters in a row Enjoy'd the Beams above the Warmth below The Cock that of his Flesh was ever free Sung merrier than the Mermaid in the Sea And so befel that as he cast his Eye Among the Colworts on a Butterfly He saw false Reynard where he lay full low I need not swear he had no list to Crow But cry'd Cock Cock and gave a suddain start As sore dismaid and frighted at his Heart For Birds and Beasts inform'd by Nature know Kinds opposite to theirs and fly their Foe So Chanticleer who never saw a Fox Yet shun'd him as a Sailor shuns the Rocks But the false Loon who cou'd not work his Will By open Force employ'd his flatt'ring Skill I hope my Lord said he I not offend Are you afraid of me that am your Friend I were a Beast indeed to do you wrong I who have lov'd and honour'd you so long Stay gentle Sir nor take a false Alarm For on my Soul I never meant you harm I come no Spy nor as a Traytor press To learn the Secrets of your soft Recess Far be from Reynard to prophane a Thought But by the sweetness of your Voice was brought For as I bid my Beads by chance I heard The Song as of an Angel in the Yard A Song that wou'd have charm'd th' infernal Gods And banish'd Horror from the dark Abodes Had Orphans sung it in the neather Sphere So much the Hymn had pleas'd the Tyrant's Ear The Wife had been detain'd to keep the Husband there My Lord your Sire familiarly I knew A Peer deserving such a Son as you He with your Lady-Mother whom Heav'n rest Has often grac'd my House and been my Guest To view his living Features does me good For I am your poor Neighbour in the Wood And in my Cottage shou'd be proud to see The worthy Heir of my Friend's Family But since I speak of Singing let me say As with an upright Heart I safely may That save your self there breaths not on the Ground One like your Father for a Silver sound So sweetly wou'd he wake the Winter-day That Matrons to the Church mistook their way And thought they heard the merry Organ play And he to raise his Voice with artful Care What will not Beaux attempt to please the Fair On Tiptoe stood to sing with greater Strength And stretch'd his comely Neck at all the length And while he pain'd his Voice to pierce the Skies As Saints in Raptures use would shut his Eyes That the sound striving through the narrow Throat His winking might avail to mend the Note By this in Song he never had his Peer From sweet Cecilia down to Chanticleer Not Maro's Muse who sung the mighty Man Nor Pindar's heav'nly Lyre nor Horace when a Swan Your Ancestors proceed from Race divine From Brennus and Belinus is your Line Who gave to sov'raign Rome such loud Alarms That ev'n the Priests were not excus'd from Arms. Besides a famous Monk of modern times Has left of Cocks recorded in his Rhimes That of a Parish-Priest the Son and Heir When Sons of Priests were from the Proverb clear Affronted once a Cock of noble Kind And either lam'd his Legs or struck him blind For which the Clerk his Father was disgrac'd And in his Benefice another plac'd Now sing my Lord if not for love of me Yet for the sake of sweet Saint Charity Make Hills and Dales and Earth and Heav'n rejoice And emulate your Father's Angel-voice The Cock was pleas'd to hear him speak so fair And proud beside as solar People are Nor cou'd the Treason from the Truth descry So was he ravish'd with this Flattery So much the more as from a little Elf He had a high Opinion of himself Though sickly slender and not large of Limb Concluding all the World was made for him Ye Princes rais'd by Poets to the Gods And Alexander'd 〈◊〉 lying Odes Believe not ev'ry flatt'ring Knave 's report There 's many a Reynard lurking in the Court And he shall be receiv'd with more regard And list'ned to than modest Truth is heard This Chanticleer of whom the Story sings Stood high upon his 〈◊〉 and clap'd his Wings Then stretch'd his Neck and wink'd with both his Eyes Ambitious as he sought th' Olympick Prize But while he pain'd himself to raise his Note False Reynard rush'd and caught him by the Throat Then on his Back he laid the precious Load And sought his wonted shelter of the Wood Swiftly he made his way the Mischief done Of all unheeded and pursu'd by none Alas what stay is there in human State Or who can shun inevitable Fate 〈◊〉 The Doom was written the Decree was past E'er the Foundations of the World were cast In Aries though the Sun exalted stood His Patron-Planet to procure his good Yet Saturn was his mortal Foe and he In Libra rais'd oppos'd the same Degree The Rays both good and bad of equal Pow'r Each thwarting other made a mingled Hour On Friday-morn he dreamt this direful Dream Cross to the worthy Native in his Scheme Ah blissful Venus Goddess of Delight How cou'd'st thou suffer thy devoted Knight On thy own Day to fall by Foe oppress'd The wight of all the World who serv'd thee best Who true to Love was all for Recreation And minded not the Work of Propagation Gaufride who could'st so well in Rhime complain The Death of Richard with an Arrow slain Why had not I thy Muse or thou my Heart To sing this heavy Dirge with equal Art That I like thee on Friday might complain For on that Day was Ceur de Lion slain Not louder Cries when Ilium was in Flames Were sent to Heav'n by woful Trojan Dames When Pyrrhus toss'd on high his burnish'd Blade And offer'd Priam to his Father's Shade Than for the Cock the widow'd Poultry made Fair Partlet first when he was born from sight With soveraign Shrieks bewail'd her Captive Knight Far lowder than the Carthaginian Wife When Asdrubal her Husband lost his Life When she beheld the smouldring Flames ascend And all the Punick Glories at an end Willing into the Fires she plung'd her Head With greater Ease than others seek their Bed Not more aghast the Matrons of Renown When Tyrant Nero burn'd th' Imperial Town Shriek'd for the downfal in a doleful Cry For which their guiltless Lords were doom'd to die Now to my Story I return

again The trembling Widow and her Daughters twain This woful cackling Cry with Horror heard Of those distracted Damsels in the Yard And starting up beheld the heavy Sight How Reynard to the Forest took his Flight And cross his Back as in triumphant Scorn The Hope and Pillar of the House was born The Fox the wicked Fox was all the Cry Out from his House ran ev'ry Neighbour nigh The Vicar first and after him the Crew With Forks and Staves the Fellon to pursue Ran Coll our Dog and Talbot with the Band And Malkin with her Distaff in her Hand Ran Cow and Calf and Family of Hogs In Panique Horror of pursuing Dogs With many a deadly Grunt and doleful Squeak Poor Swine as if their pretty Hearts would break The Shouts of Men the Women in dismay With Shrieks augment the Terror of the Day The Ducks that heard the Proclamation cry'd And fear'd a Persecution might betide Full twenty Mile from Town their Voyage take Obscure in Rushes of the liquid Lake The Geese fly o'er the Barn the Bees in Arms Drive headlong from their Waxen Cells in Swarms Jack Straw at London-stone with all his Rout Struck not the City with so loud a Shout Not when with English Hate they did pursue A French Man or an unbelieving Jew Not when the Welkin rung with one and all And Echoes bounded back from Fox's Hall Earth seem'd to sink beneath and Heav'n above to fall With Might and Main they chas'd the murd'rous Fox With brazen Trumpets and inflated Box To kindle Mars with military Sounds Nor wanted Horns t' inspire sagacious Hounds But see how Fortune can confound the Wise And when they least expect it turn the Dice The Captive Cock who scarce cou'd draw his Breath And lay within the very Jaws of Death Yet in this Agony his Fancy wrought And Fear supply'd him with this happy Thought Yours is the Prize victorious Prince said he The Vicar my defeat and all the Village see Enjoy your friendly Fortune while you may And bid the Churls that envy you the Prey Call back their mungril Curs and cease their Cry See Fools the shelter of the Wood is nigh And Chanticleer in your despight shall die He shall be pluck'd and eaten to the Bone 'T is well advis'd in Faith it shall be done This Reynard said but as the Word he spoke The Pris'ner with a Spring from Prison broke Then stretch'd his feather'd Fans with all his might And to the neighb'ring Maple wing'd his flight Whom when the Traytor safe on Tree beheld He curs'd the Gods with Shame and Sorrow fill'd Shame for his Folly Sorrow out of time For Plotting an unprofitable Crime Yet mast'ring both th' Artificer of Lies Renews th' Assault and his last Batt'ry tries Though I said he did ne'er in Thought offend How justly may my Lord suspect his Friend Th' appearance is against me I confess Who seemingly have put you in Distress You if your Goodness does not plead my Cause May think I broke all hospitable Laws To bear you from your Palace-yard by Might And put your noble Person in a Fright This since you take it ill I must repent Though Heav'n can witness with no bad intent I practis'd it to make you taste your Cheer With double Pleasure first prepar'd by fear So loyal Subjects often seize their Prince Forc'd for his Good to seeming Violence Yet mean his sacred Person not the least Offence Descend so help me Jove as you shall find That Reynard comes of no dissembling Kind Nay quoth the Cock but I beshrew us both If I believe a Saint upon his Oath An honest Man may take a Knave 's Advice But Idiots only will be couzen'd twice Once warn'd is well bewar'd No flatt'ring Lies Shall sooth me more to sing with winking Eyes And open Mouth for fear of catching Flies Who Blindfold walks upon a Rivers brim When he should see has he deserv'd to swim Better Sir Cock let all Contention cease Come down said Reynard let us treat of Peace A Peace with all my Soul said Chanticleer But with your Favour I will treat it here And least the Truce with Treason should be mixt 'T is my concern to have the Tree betwixt The MORAL In this plain Fable you th' Effect may see Of Negligence and fond Credulity And learn besides of Flatt'rers to beware Then most pernicious when they speak too fair The Cock and Fox the Fool and Knave imply The Truth is moral though the Tale a Lie Who spoke in Parables I dare not say But sure he knew it was a pleasing way Sound Sense by plain Example to convey And in a Heathen Author we may find That Pleasure with Instruction should be join'd So take the Corn and leave the Chaff behind THEODORE AND HONORIA FROM BOCCACE THEODORE AND HONORIA OF all the Cities in Romanian Lands The chief and most renown'd Ravenna stands Adorn'd in ancient Times with Arms and Arts And rich Inhabitants with generous Hearts But Theodore the Brave above the rest With Gifts of Fortune and of Nature bless'd The foremost Place for Wealth and Honour held And all in Feats of Chivalry excell'd This noble Youth to Madness lov'd a Dame Of high Degree Honoria was her Name Fair as the Fairest but of haughty Mind And fiercer than became so soft a kind Proud of her Birth for equal she had none The rest she scorn'd but hated him alone His Gifts his constant Courtship nothing gain'd For she the more he lov'd the more disdain'd He liv'd with all the Pomp he cou'd devise At Tilts and Turnaments obtain'd the Prize But found no favour in his Ladies Eyes Relentless as a Rock the lofty Maid Turn'd all to Poyson that he did or said Nor Pray'rs nor Tears nor offer'd Vows could move The Work went backward and the more he strove T' advance his Sute the farther from her Love Weary'd at length and wanting Remedy He doubted oft and oft resolv'd to die But Pride stood ready to prevent the Blow For who would die to gratify a Foe His generous Mind disdain'd so mean a Fate That pass'd his next Endeavour was to Hate But vainer that Relief than all the rest The less he hop'd with more Desire possess'd Love stood the Siege and would not yield his Breast Change was the next but change deceiv'd his Care He sought a Fairer but found none so Fair. He would have worn her out by slow degrees As Men by Fasting starve th' untam'd Disease But present Love requir'd a present Ease Looking he feeds alone his famish'd Eyes Feeds lingring Death but looking not he dies Yet still he chose the longest way to Fate Wasting at once his Life and his Estate His Friends beheld and pity'd him in vain For what Advice can ease a Lover's Pain Absence the best Expedient they could find Might save the Fortune if not cure the Mind This Means they long propos'd but little gain'd Yet after much pursuit at length obtain'd Hard you may

He who cou'd often and alone withstand The Foe the Fire and Jove's own partial Hand Now cannot his unmaster'd Grief sustain But yields to Rage to Madness and Disdain Then snatching out his Fauchion Thou said He Art mine Ulysses lays no claim to Thee O often try'd and ever trusty Sword Now do thy last kind Office to thy Lord 'T is Ajax who requests thy Aid to show None but himself himself cou'd overthrow He said and with so good a Will to die Did to his Breast the fatal Point apply It found his Heart a way till then unknown Where never Weapon enter'd but his own No Hands cou'd force it thence so fix'd it stood Till out it rush'd expell'd by Streams of spouting Blood The fruitful Blood produc'd a Flow'r which grew On a green Stem and of a Purple Hue Like his whom unaware Apollo slew Inscrib'd in both the Letters are the same But those express the Grief and these the Name THE WIFE OF BATH HER TALE THE Wife of BATH HER TALE IN Days of Old when Arthur fill'd the Throne Whose Acts and Fame to Foreign Lands were blown The King of Elfs and little Fairy Queen Gamboll'd on Heaths and danc'd on ev'ry Green And where the jolly Troop had led the round The Grass unbidden rose and mark'd the Ground Nor darkling did they dance the Silver Light Of Phaebe serv'd to guide their Steps aright And with their Tripping pleas'd prolong'd the Night Her Beams they follow'd where at full she plaid Nor longer than she shed her Horns they staid From thence with airy Flight to Foreign Lands convey'd Above the rest our Britain held they dear More solemnly they kept their Sabbaths here And made more spacious Rings and revell'd half the Year I speak of ancient Times for now the Swain Returning late may pass the Woods in vain And never hope to see the nightly Train In vain the Dairy now with Mints is dress'd The Dairy-Maid expects no Fairy Guest To skim the Bowls and after pay the Feast She sighs and shakes her empty Shoes in vain No Silver Penny to reward her Pain For Priests with Pray'rs and other godly Geer Have made the merry Goblins disappear And where they plaid their merry Pranks before Have sprinkled Holy Water on the Floor And Fry'rs that through the wealthy Regions run Thick as the Motes that twinkle in the Sun Resort to Farmers rich and bless their Halls And exorcise the Beds and cross the Walls This makes the Fairy Quires forsake the Place When once 't is hallow'd with the Rites of Grace But in the Walks where wicked Elves have been The Learning of the Parish now is seen The Midnight Parson posting o'er the Green With Gown tuck'd up to Wakes for Sunday next With humming Ale encouraging his Text Nor wants the holy Leer to Country-Girl betwixt From Fiends and Imps he sets the Village free There haunts not any Incubus but He. The Maids and Women need no Danger fear To walk by Night and Sanctity so near For by some Haycock or some shady Thorn He bids his Beads both Even-song and Morn It so befel in this King Arthur's Reign A lusty Knight was pricking o'er the Plain A Batchelor he was and of the courtly Train It happen'd as he rode a Damsel gay In Russet-Robes to Market took her way Soon on the Girl he cast an amorous Eye So strait she walk'd and on her Pasterns high If seeing her behind he lik'd her Pace Now turning short he better lik'd her Face He lights in hast and full of Youthful Fire By Force accomplish'd his obscene Desire This done away he rode not unespy'd For swarming at his Back the Country cry'd And once in view they never lost the Sight But seiz'd and pinion'd brought to court the Knight Then Courts of Kings were held in high Renown E'er made the common Brothels of the Town There Virgins honourable Vows receiv'd But chast as Maids in Monasteries liv'd The King himself to Nuptial Ties a Slave No bad Example to his Poets gave And they not bad but in a vicious Age Had not to please the Prince debauch'd the Stage Now what shou'd Arthur do He lov'd the Knight But Soveraign Monarchs are the Source of Right Mov'd by the Damsels Tears and common Cry He doom'd the brutal Ravisher to die But fair Geneura rose in his Defence And pray'd so hard for Mercy from the Prince That to his Queen the King th' Offender gave And left it in her Pow'r to Kill or Save This gracious Act the Ladies all approve Who thought it much a Man should die for Love And with their Mistress join'd in close Debate Covering their Kindness with dissembled Hate If not to free him to prolong his Fate At last agreed they call'd him by consent Before the Queen and Female Parliament And the fair Speaker rising from her Chair Did thus the Judgment of the House declare Sir Knight tho' I have ask'd thy Life yet still Thy Destiny depends upon my Will Nor hast thou other Surety than the Grace Not due to thee from our offended Race But as our Kind is of a softer Mold And cannot Blood without a Sigh behold I grant thee Life reserving still the Pow'r To take the Forfeit when I see my Hour Unless thy Answer to my next Demand Shall set Thee free from our avenging Hand The Question whose Solution I require Is what the Sex of Women most desire In this Dispute thy Judges are at Strife Beware for on thy Wit depends thy Life Yet lest surpriz'd unknowing what to say Thou damn thy self we give thee farther Day A Year is thine to wander at thy Will And learn from others if thou want'st the Skill But not to hold our Proffer in Scorn Good Sureties will we have for thy return That at the time prefix'd thou shalt obey And at thy Pledges Peril keep thy Day Woe was the Knight at this severe Command But well he knew 't was bootless to withstand The Terms accepted as the Fair ordain He put in Bail for his return again And promis'd Answer at the Day assign'd The best with Heav'ns Assistance he could find His Leave thus taken on his Way he went With heavy Heart and full of Discontent Misdoubting much and fearful of th' Event 'T was hard the Truth of such a Point to find As was not yet agreed among the Kind Thus on he went still anxious more and more Ask'd all he met and knock'd at ev'ry Door Enquir'd of Men but made his chief Request To learn from Women what they lov'd the best They answer'd each according to her Mind To please her self not all the Female Kind One was for Wealth another was for Place Crones old and ugly wish'd a better Face The Widow's Wish was oftentimes to Wed The wanton Maids were all for Sport a Bed Some said the Sex were pleas'd with handsom Lies And some gross Flatt'ry lov'd without disguise Truth is says one he seldom fails to win Who Flatters