Selected quad for the lemma: woman_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
woman_n	child_n	conceive_v	womb_n	1,568	5	9.6606	5	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A08434	The lamentation of Troy, for the death of Hector Wherevnto is annexed an olde womans tale in hir solitarie cell.	Ogle, John, Sir, 1569-1640.	1594 (1594)	STC 18755; ESTC S110186	34,123	66

Abraham did greeue In sacrifice to offer vppe his sonne Vnto I am and but he did beleeue His flesh and bloud would such a murther shun If flesh and bloud to loose a sonne be loth Then needes must Priam who was meerely both Great was the gall vnto Harpagus hart When king Astiages gaue to him his sonne Whom he had slaine before O cruell part Then gaue his father him to banquet on But this nor those were halfe so much as his For Priam lost the piller of his blisse Alasse good king that thou whose hap was such As neuer any might compared be That Fortune now at thy good hap should grutch Alas I say that thou shouldst liue to see The Wheele so turne euen now to vieu thy fal Who wert but euen now on the top of all Next him sat wailing in most pitious wise Hectors fayre mother Hecuba the Queene Hir outward lookes hir inward smart descries And by hir sighing was hir sorrowe seene A mothers loue vnto hir childe exceedes And death of him hir endlesse torment breedes Aye me she cries as women wont to doe That ere I did conceiue thee in my wombe Thy life was mine thy death is now my woe Aye that my bellie had beene stil thy tombe Rather I had I neuer had thee borne Then thus in thee to see all Troy forlorne When I thy brother Paris did conceiue I dreamt my wombe was all on burning fire And true it was he doth me not deceiue I feare we burne all by his hot desire Yet hadst thou liu'd thy selfe had beene a spring To quench these flames that now are kindleing For when I bred thee few doe know so much I dreamt a Sea was in my body flowing And that the rage of Aeolus was such That blasts of winde the waues thereof were blowing I tolde it none so was the sence nere found But now I both do finde and feele the ground These Seas of teares which heere about thee flow Are those same seas which I supposde to be These stormes of sighs the winds with them did blow Thus is my vision verified in thee Now that a signe of these Seas may be seene I will be called of sadde seas the Queene The Troyan Queene is Hecuba no more Aye me me thinkes I see it now decaying Hector is dead the Greekes do dance therefore And they giue thanks while we for ayde are praying Frowne not O Neptune that I am Queene of Seas For Queene on earth great Ioue it doth not please With that she weeping tore hir haire and said See see they come to take away my crowne Like one halfe frantike or with feare dismaide Looke looke she cries they 'r burning of the towne O Hector helpe vs she alowd him cals He cannot heare hir she to weeping fals Elkanah thy Hannah neuer sight so sore Nor begd with teares that she by thee might beare A sonne although she powred out before Hir makers throne her soule who did hir heare With tithe of teares I say did she not craue him As losse of hirs she mournd yet could not saue him Thomyris thy teares for Spargapises slaine By Cyrus hand the butcher of thy sonne Were not a few which from thy cloudie brain Thou didst let fal to heare what he had donne But O the drops which Hecuba did shoure For thee to shed was neuer in thy powre She lost hir stay hir piller and a sonne Thou lost a sonne but neyther staie nor piller In Hectors death Hecubaes life was done Thou hadst the head of Spargapises killer And victresse wert liuing in ioy long after She euer mournde and neuer moued laughter Thus sat the mother of that worthy man Weeping vpon him in aboundant raine Clasping his body strongly as she can Into hir armes and then she weepes againe Hugging him hard as thogh she would then take him Into the place where great Ioue first did make him By hir I sawe a goodly Lady bright A stately dame as one shal lightly see But that some drooping clouds then dimnd hir sight I askt Troys ghost what might that Lady be This is quoth she Andromache his wife Whom she did loue more dearely then hir life She wept and wailde and wroong hir hands and tare Hir clothes hir haire hir flesh from off hir face A babie too within hir armes she bare Aye me me thought it was a pitious case To see the babe vppon hir breast to lie And both to weepe the childe not knowing why O heare my Lord O heare thy handmaid speake I am Andromache thy louing wife Through thy dead senses let my words now breake Thou that refusde to heare me in thy life Ah hadst thou listned when thou liuing wert This greefe had neuer come so nigh my hart Thou madste no reckoning of my vision strange Braue men are wont to be too credulous My dreame did tell me that thy life must change If thou this day with Greekes wert venturous I tolde it thee But Womens words are toyes When men most wilfull seeke their owne annoies I tolde the King our Father and the Queene We all did pray thee All could not preuaile For valiant men will haue their valure seene Hector that day must needes the Greekes assaile That day that one day couldst thou not forbeare But men resolued perswasions will nor heare Then flouds of teares ran downe hir christall cheekes Like streames that follow along the siluer sandes A troubled soule in teares hir comfort seekes O heauy comfort that in mourning standes Yet woman say in weeping there is glory Which mede this Lady so exceeding sory The sweete young Infant that lay all this while Vppon the Downe-bed of his mothers brest One while would crie another while did smile Alas it knew no cause of such vnrest Vnles that this did make the babie weepe To heare what howling they about him keepe Sometimes it would the tender hand vp lay And spread the fingers on the mothers face Stroking hir cheekes as Infantes vse to play But she that now for sporting had no place Weeping did wet the childe as it did lie With brinish teares which made the babe to cry Then with a napkin doth she drie his face Peace peace sweet hart thus she hir yonglinge stills He to his plaieng falles againe apace She with hir teares againe his bosome filles And with hir sobs she beates him as he lies That now the childe with ceaseles shriking cryes Alacke the tormentes that she now endueres The cruell plunges in hir hart so sore Hir husbandes death hir endles woe insures The childes fell crieng makes hir tormentes more Thus she sweete Lady is of all accurst Who sittes and sighs as if hir hart should burst The faithfull Porcia neuer sorrowed so Although hir selfe for Brutus she did kill The louing Phillis neuer felt the woe Though for Demophoon she hir selfe did spill As did Andromach for hir Hector slayne Their Death cut off hir life prolonges hir paine Panthea deplord