Selected quad for the lemma: fire_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
fire_n	burn_v	day_n	house_n	2,389	4	5.4502	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A39810	The tragedy of Thierry, King of France, and his brother Theodoret as it was diverse times acted at the Blacke-Friers by the Kings Maiesties servants / written by John Fletcher, gent.	Fletcher, John, 1579-1625.; Massinger, Philip, 1583-1640.; Beaumont, Francis, 1584-1616.	1648 (1648)	Wing F1352; ESTC R30457	40,910	42

THE TRAGEDY OF THIERRY King of France and his Brother THEODORET As it was diverse times acted at the Blacke-Friers hy the Kings Maiesties Servants Written by JOHN FLETCHER Gent. IN DOMINO CONFIDO LONDON Printed for Humphrey Mosely and are to be sold at his Shop at the Princes Armes in St. Pauls Church-yard 1648. THE TRAGEDIE OF THIERRIE AND THEODORET Act. 1. Scoe. 1. Enter Theodoret Brunhalt Bawdber BRVNHALT TAxe me with these hot tainters Theodoret. You are too sudaine I doe but gently tell you what becomes you And what may bend your honor how these courses Of loose and lazie pleasures not suspected But done and knowne your mind that grants no limit And all your Actions followes which loose people That see but through a mist of circumstance Dare terme ambitious all your wayes hide sores Opening in the end to nothing but vlcers Your instruments like these may call the world And with a fearfull clamour to examine Why and to what we governe From example If not for vertues sake yee may be honest There have been great ones good ones and 't is necessary Because you are your selfe and by your selfe A selfe-peece from the touch of power and Iustice You should command your self you may imagine Which cozens all the world but chiefly women The name of greatnesse glorifies your actions And strong power like a pent-house promisse To shade you from opinion take heed mother And let us all take heede these most abuse us The sinnes we doe people behold through opticks Which shewes them ten times more than common vices And often multiplyes them then what justice Dare we inflict upon the weake offenders When we are theeves our selves Brun. This is Martell Studied and pend unto you whose base person I charge you by the love you owe a mother And as you hope for blessings from her prayers Neither to give beliefe to nor allowance Next I tell you Sir you from whome obedience Is so farre fled that you dare taxe a mother Nay further brand her honour with your slanders And breake into the treasures of her credit Your easinesse is abused your faith fraited With lyes malitious lyes your merchant mischiefe He that never knew more trade then Tales and tumbling Suspitious into honest harts what you or hee Or all the world dare lay upon my worth This for your poore opinions I am shee And so will beare my selfe whose truth and whitenesse Shall ever stand as far from these detections As you from dutie get you better servants People of honest actions without ends And whip these knaves away they eate your favours And turne em unto poysons my knowne credite Whom all the Courts a this fide Nile have envied And happy shee could fite mee brought in question Now in my houres of age and reverence When rather superstition should be rendred And by a Rush that one dayes warmth Hath shot up to this swelling give me justice Which is his life Theod. This is an impudence And he must tell you that till now mother Brought yee a sonnes obedience and now breakes it Above the sufferance of a sonne Bawd Blesse us For I doe now begin to feele my selfe Turning into a halter and the ladder Turning from me one pulling at my legs too Theod. These truths are no mans tales but all mens troubles They are though your strange greatnesse would out stare v'm Witnesse the daily Libels almost Ballads In every place almost in every Province Are made upon your lust Taverne discourses Crowds cram'd with whispers Nay the holy Temples Are not without your curses Now you would blush But your blacke tainted blood dare not appeare For feare I should fright that too Brun. O ye gods Theod. Do not abuse their names they see your actions And your conceald sinnes though you work like Moles Lyes levell to their justice Brun. Art thou a sonne Theod. The more my shame is of so bad a mother And more your wretchednesse you let me be so But woman for a mothers name hath left me Since you have left your honour mend these ruines And build againe that broken fame and fairely Your most intemperate fires have burnt and quickly Within these ten dayes take a Monasterie A most strickt house a house where none may whisper Where no more light is knowne but what may make yee Beleeve there is a day where no hope dwels Nor comfort but in teares Brun. O miserie Theod. And there to cold repentance and starv'd penance Tye your succeeding dayes or curse me heaven If all your guilded knaves brokers and bedders Even he you built from nothing strong Portalyde Be not made ambling Geldings all your maydes If that name doe not shame vm fed with spunges To sucke away their rancknesse and your selfe Onely to empty Pictures and dead Arras Offer your old desires Brun. I will not curse you Nor lay a prophesie upon your pride Though heaven might grant me both unthankfull no I nourish'd yee 't was I poore I groand for you 'T was I felt what you sufferd I lamented When sicknesse or sad houres held backe your swetnesse T was I payd for your sleepes I watch your wakings My daily cares and feares that rid plaid walkt Discoursd discoverd fed and fashioned you To what you are and am I thus rewarded Theod. But that I know these teares I could dote on em And kneele to catch vm as they fall then knit vm Into an Armlet ever to be honourd But woman they are dangerous drops deceitfull Full of the weeper anger and ill nature Brun. In my last houres despisd Theod. That Text should tell How ugly it becomes you to erre thus Your flames are spent nothing but smoake maintaines ye And those your favour and your bounty suffers Lye not with you they do but lay lust on you And then imbrace you as they caught a palsie Your power they may love and like spanish Iennetts Commit with such a gust Bawd I would take whipping And pay a fine now Exit Bawdber Theod. But were yee once disgraced Or fallen in wealth like leaves they would flie from you And become browse for every beast you will'd me To stocke my selfe with better friends and servants With what face dare you see mee or any mankind That keepe a race of such unheard of relicks Bawds Leachers Letches femall fornications And children in their rudiments to vices Old men to shew examples and lest Art Should loose her selfe in act to call backe custome Leave these and live like Niobe I told you how And when your eyes have dropt away remembrance Of what you were I am your sonne performe it Brun. Am I a woman and no more power in me To tye this Tyger up a soule to no end Have I got shame and lost my will Brunhalt From this accursed houre forget thou bor'st him Or any part of thy blood gave him living Let him be to thee an Antipathy A thing thy nature sweates at and turnes backward Throw all the