Selected quad for the lemma: water_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
water_n	cold_a	dry_a	moist_a	4,796	5	10.4311	5	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A23239	The scourge of Venus: or, The wanton lady With the rare birth of Adonis. Written by H.A.; Metamorphoses. Book 10. English	Ovid, 43 B.C.-17 or 18 A.D.; Austin, Henry, fl. 1613, attributed name. aut	1613 (1613)	STC 968; ESTC S118594	15,759	46

all gray These hands that pain haue took in rocking thee Let some or all these cause thee to bewray What cruel means haue brought thee in this case At which the Lady turnd away her face O be not coy sweet hide thou nought from me I am thy Nurse she said and haue good skill In charms hearbs dreams that powerful be Of what thou wantst I le helpe thee to thy fill Art thou in loue or witcht by any wight I l'e finde thee case or else will free the quite I haue bene wanton once as well as you Now yet by age am altogether dull I haue beene loue-sicke as you may be now Of toyes and loue-trickes I was wondrous full How strange so ere thy case do therefore stand I can and will redresse it out of hand Thou art in Loue my sweet I well espy If so no lacke shalt finde in me I sweare The Lady in her armes sob'd bitterly The Nurse replyd and sayd Why do not feare Thy father shall not know of this at all At which she starts and on her bed doth fall And frantickly she tumbles on her face And said get hence good Nurse I pre'thee go Constraine me not to shew my wicked case That case quoth she I pray thee let me know Get hence she answer'd or enquire lesse 'T is wickednesse thou wouldst haue me cōfesse 'T is such a thing that if I want I die And being got is nothing else but shame The Nurse hereat did sigh most heauily And on her knees be sought to know the same And holding vp her hands as she did kneele Said Madame tell the priuie griefe you feele If you will not discouer this to me I will acquaint your father out of hand How you had hang'd your selfe wer 't not for me But if you tell your trusty friend I l'e stand And let your griefe of any nature be It shall go hard but I l'e finde remedy And if your case be ill you need not feare The heauie load the wickednesse doth bring I l'e teach thee how most easily to beare My age hath got experience in each thing Tell me what 't is that doth so neerely touch One woman may perswade another much And now the Lady raisd her heauy head Hanging vpon her Nurses bosome fast As she did rise vp from her slothfull bed Being prodigall her christall teares to waste Now she wold speak now her speech doth stay Thē shame doth cause her turne her face away A franticke fury doth possesse her now And then she drawes her garment ore her face And wrings her hands to her Nurse doth vow For to acquaint her with her wretched case And shedding brinish teares into her breast Thus much her griefe to her at last exprest Oh happy is my mothers happy state That hath a husband Debonaire and faire Vnhappy am I most infortunate At which he stopt as one falne in dispaire The Nurse soone found Senecdoche in this And what the whole meant by a perfect gesse Her aged bones did shake and tremble fast Her hoary haire stood staring vp on end From forth her eyes a heauy looke she cast And many a sigh her heart distrest did send And pausing long not knowing what to say At last her tongue her minde did thus bewray In this I hope good Lady you but iest To try your Nurses now-decaying wit So foule a fault is not within your breast Then tell me true the occasion of this fit The Lady frown'd stopt her speaking farther And said get hēce is 't shame to loue our father I she reply'd in such a filthy sort It is not loue but lust that you professe Necessity with true loue cannot sort Your loue contaminates you must confesse A daughters loue then to your father show Some loue good things but with bad loue I know Or if your wanton flesh you cannot tame Nor coole the burning of your hot desire Then take some one that not augmets the shame And set apart to dote vpon your sire It is most vile to stand in such a need To make the actor baser then the deed Besides his yeares can yeeld no such content That blithsome wanton dames expect to haue Herein your bargaine you will soone repent Whē you shal find great want of that you craue Are you so mad o will you once beleeue Old men content to frolicke Dames can giue Take this example of me from the Sky Behold a shooting star from heauen fall Whose glimmering light you scarcely do espye But it is gone as nothing were at all And so their sports being scarse begun doth leaue As in the aire concressions we perceiue Or as the bloomes vpon the Almond-tree That vanish sooner thē the mush-rums done Or as the flies Haemere we do see To leaue their breath their life being scarce begunne Who thinks that tree whose roots decai'd by time Can yeeld like fruit to yong ones in their prime A rotten sticke more fit to burne then vse I maruell what from age you do expect Let my experience their defect accuse And teach thee how thy equals to affect When they should toy iocund sport with thee Their gouts coughs cramps wil hindrance be 'T is nor their fault but incident to age Which far more imperfections with it brings As iealousie suspicion fury rage Dislike disdaine and other such like things For can the fire hot in nature dwell With water cold but they at length rebell Euen as in Summer one may aptly note The fire and water in one cloud contain'd And neither yet the mastery hauing got Being opposits their surie's not restrain'd But do contend in strife and deadly warre Til scolding Thunder do pronounce the iarre Choose from thywoers some peculiar one Whose loue may fill the measure of thy hopes And balonize thy wanton sports alone Whose appetite with thy desire copes Youth will be frolicke in a Maidens bed Age is vnapt and heauy as the lead Youth hath his daliance and his kind embrace Euen as the Elmes incircled with the Vine Age loueth rest and quiet in this case Saying Oakes at such like Iuy gripes repine Yuths pleasing weltun'd years sweet musick maks When for cōsort loue strings it strains or slakes Yet chuse thou one whose tongue 's not set on wheeles Who ears his words before he brings thē forth That no decorum in his talking feeles Such are but buzards blabs of little worth And for complexion heerein mee beleeue The perfect sanguine sweet content doth giue The Phlegmaticke is like the water cold The Cholericke wants sap like fire dry And Melancholy as age is dull and old But in the Sanguin moist warme iuice doth lie Whose beauty feeds the eye with sweete delight The rest do rather feare then please the sight What pleasure can a sterne grim face affoord A swarfie colour or rough shagged haire Or Rauen blacke beleeue me at a word They are too blame that do despise the faire They please the eye