Selected quad for the lemma: word_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
word_n	david_n	king_n	saul_n	3,246	5	10.1257	5	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A72892	An Excellent new medley to the tune of the Spanish pauin.		1620 (1620)	STC 17777.5; ESTC S5329	2,340	1

An excellent new Medley To the tune of the Spanish Pauin WHen Philomel begins to sing the grasse growes gréene flowres spring Me thinks it is a pleasant thing to walke on Primrose hill Maydes haue you any Conny-skins To sell for Laces or great Pinnes The Pope will pardon veniall sinnes Saint Peter Fresh fish newes grow quickly stale Some say good Wine can nere want sale But God send poore folkes Béere and Ale enough vntill they die Most people now are full of pride The Boy sayd no but yet he lyde His Aunt did to the Cuck-stoole ride for scolding Within our Towne faire Susan dwells Sure Meg is poyson'd for she swels My friend pull off your buzzards bels and let the haggard flye Take héed you play not at Tray-trip Short héeles forsooth will quickly slip The beadle makes folke with his whip dance naked Come Tapster tell vs what 's to pay Iane frownd and cryde good Sir away She tooke his kindnesse yet sayd nay as Maydens vse to doe The man shall haue his Mare agen When all false knaues proue honest men Our Cisly shall be Sainted then true Roger. The Butcher with his masty Dog At Rumford you may buy a Hog I saith Raph Goose hath got a clog his wench is great with childe In Pillory put the Bakers head For making of such little bread Good conscience now a dayes is dead Pierce plowman The Cutpurse and his Company Théeues finde receiuers presently Shun Brokers Bawdes and Vsury for feare of after-claps Lord what a wicked world is this The stone lets Kate she cannot pisse Come hither swéet and take a kisse in kindnesse In Bath a wanton wife did dwell She had two buckets to a well Would not a dog for anger swell to sée a Pudding créepe The Horse-leach is become a Smith When halters fayle then take a With Then say an old man hath no pith Round Robin Simon doth sucke vp all the Egges Franke neuer drinkes without Nutmegs And pretty Parnell shewes her legs as slender as my waste When faire Ierusalem did stand The match is made giue me thy hand Maulkin must haue a Cambricke band blew starched The Cuckow sung hard by the doore Gyll brawled like a butter whore Cause her bucke-headed Husband swore the Miller was a knaue Good Poets leaue off making playes Let players seeke for Souldiers payes I doe not like these drunken frayes in Smithfield Now Roysters spurs doe gingle braue Iohn Sexton playd the arrand knaue To digge a Coarse out of the Graue and steale the shéet away The wandring Prince of stately Troy Gréene sléeues were wont to be my ioy He is a blinde and paultry boy god Cupid Come hither friends and giue good care A legge of mutton stuft is rare Take héed you doe not steale my Mare it is so hot it burnes Behold the tryall of true loue He tooke a scrich-Owle for a Doue This man is like ere long to proue a Monster T is merry when kind Maltmen méet No Cowards fight but in the stréet Me thinkes this wench smels very swéet of Muske or somewhat else There was a man did play at Maw The whilst his wife made him a Daw Your Case is altered in the Law quoth Ployden The Weauer will no shuttle shoote Goe did the Cobler mend my boote He is a foole will goe a foote and let his Horse stand still Did Iohn a Nokes and Iohn a Stiles Many an honest man beguiles But all the world is full of wiles and knauery Of treason and of Traytors spight The house is haunted with a sprit Now Nan will rise about midnight and walke to Richards house You Courtly states and Gallants all Climbe not too high for feare you fall If one please not another shall King Pippin Diana and her Darlings déere The Dutchmen ply the double Béere Boyes ring the bels and make good chéere when Kempe returnes from Rome Oh man what meanes thy heauy looke Is Will not in his Mistris Booke Sir Rouland for a refuge tooke Horne-Castle Rich people haue the world at will Trades fade but Lawyers flourish still Iacke would be marryed vnto Gyll but care will kill a Cat. Are you there Sirrah with your Beares A Barbers shop with nitty haires Doll Phillis hath lost both her eares for coozning Who list to lead a Souldiers life Tom would eate meat but wants a knife The Tinker swore that Tib his wife would play at Vptayles all Beléeue my word without an Oath The Taylor stole some of her cloath When George lay sicke Ioane made him broath with Hemlocke The Patron gelt the parsonage And Esau sold his heritage Now Leonard lacke-wit is foole age to be his Fathers heire There 's many scratch before it itch Saul did aske counsell of a Witch Friend yee may haue a Bacon flitch at Dunmow King Dauid playd on a Welch Harpe This thréed will neuer make good warpe At wise mens words each foole will carpe and shoote their witlesse bolts Ioue like a Ram wore hornes and wooll Knew you my Hostis of the Bull Spruce Curio once was made a gull in Shoreditch The blackamores are blabber lipt At Yarmouth are the Herrings shipt And at Bride-well the beggers whipt a man may liue and learne Griefe in my heart doth stop my tongue The poore man still must put vp wrong Your way lyes there then walke along to Witham There lyes a Lasse that I loue well The Broker hath gay clothes to sell Which from the Hangmans but get fell are you no further yet In Summer time when Peares be ripe Who would giue sixe pence for a Trip● Play Lad or else lend me thy Pipe and Taber Saint Nicholas Clarkes will take a 〈◊〉 Young children now can sweare and 〈◊〉 I hope yee like me nere the worse for finding fault therewith The seruant to the Masters mate When gossins méet there 's too much 〈◊〉 Poore Lazarus lyes of Diues gate halfe starued Make hast to Sea and hoyst vp sayles The hogs ware ser●'e with milking p●●●●● From filthy sluts and from all Iayles good Lord deliuer vs all I scorne to ride a raw bon'd Iade Fetch me a Mattocke and a Spade A Graues end Coste will soone be mad● Saint Dennis But for to finish vp my Song The Ale-wife did the Brewer wrong One day of sorrow séemes as long as ten dayes doe in mirth My Medly now is at an end Haue you no Bowles or Trayes to 〈◊〉 T is hard to finde so true a friend as Damon