DEx - Database

The Image of Melancolly
225 Hence all you fond delight
As short as are ye nights
Wherein your spend yr folly
Ther 's nothing truly sweet
If men could truly see't
Save only malancolly
Come foulded armes and fixed eyes
A sight yt pearcing mortifys
A looke yts fastned to ye ground
A toung chan'd without a sound
Fountaine heads and pathlese growes
Places wher pale passion loves
Moonli ght walkes, when all ye fouls
Are warmly housd save bats & owls
A midnight's ~~groane~~bell a parting groane
These are ye sounds wee feed upon
Then streach your limbs in a still gloomy vally
Thers naught in ye life sweet save melancoly
By Passionate Lord, in The Nice Valour (3.3), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS English poetry e. 14, f. 84rev

2. is there a justice, or thunder, & he not sink into ye Center?
By Jacintha, in The Spanish Curate (1.2.11-13), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 1

___ his cloathe look as if they were cutt out of half sword, pinckt wth pikes, & partizans
By Fool, in The Mad Lover (1.1.256-258), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2

- wt will or S. Georges doe then?
By Fool, in The Mad Lover (1.1.271), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2

– But say, Sr Huon--
By Fool, in The Mad Lover (1.1.278), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2

His life is to fight, & swagger, Beaten about ye ears wth bawling
sheepskins, cut to ye soule for soer, here an arm lost &
there a leg, his hoble head seal’d up in salves, & searcloths,
like a packet & so sent ov to an hospitall. & all this sport for
cheese, & chines of dogs flesh, & mony wn 2 wednesdayes meet
together.
By Fool, in The Mad Lover (1.2.320-328), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2

-- & wt will be left, wn ye surgeons are paid, & all
leakes stopt.
By Fool, in The Mad Lover (1.2.333-334), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2

3. – If thou dost thou seest my Myrmidons; he let ym loose—
By La-Writ, in The Little French Lawyer (4.2.28-29), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2

--a 100 bastinado’s, 3 broken pates, his teeth knockt out,
By La-Writ, in The Little French Lawyer (4.2.17-18), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2

his
small gutts ꝑ isht,
By La-Writ, in The Little French Lawyer (4.2.24), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2

his arms, & legs beaten to pouldesses
By La-Writ, in The Little French Lawyer (4.2.19), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2

- If he speaks to Ladies;
By Calis, in The Mad Lover (1.1.85-88), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 3

- If he spies a faire lady he likes, his age keeps quart yt way, as if he were veiwing yor fortifications,
By Calis, in The Mad Lover (1.1.95-96), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 3

– wn ye fumes of battailes ascend into his head, & make him March mad,
By Lucippe, in The Mad Lover (1.1.146-148), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 3

4.
– if I studied ye countries laws I shd so easily sound all
yr depth, & rise up such a wonder, yt ye pleaders yt now are
in most practice, & esteem shd starve for want of clients. If I
traveld like wise Ulysses to see men, & manns, I would returne
in act more knowing yn Hom ^ere could fancy him. If a physitian
so oft I would restore death-wounded men, That where I li’vd
Galen shd not be nam’d, & he yt joynd again ye scattd limbs Of
torn Hippolita shd be forgotten. I could teach Ovid courtship. how
to win A Julia, & enjoy her, tho her dower were all ye Sun gives
light to. And for arms, were ye Persian hoast yt drank up rivs
added to ye Turks psent power, I could coon, & marshall ym
By Duarte, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.111-28), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 3

--Like Plautus Braggart.
By Manuel, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.130), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 3

– I’le take her eye as soone
as she looke on me. And if I come to speak once, woe be to her;
I have her in a nooze, she cannot scape me.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (5.5.36-38), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 3

– Ile makes a
Nun forget her beads in 2 howers.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (5.5.42), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 3

– Shee’s mine owne: I
told you wt a spell I carried wth me.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (5.5.76-77), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 3

3
— Shee’s all Innocent. for her a dove would assume ye
courage of a daring Eagle.
By Champernel, in The Little French Lawyer (3.1.29-30), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 4

1. kneald
\where’s ye genall?
By Syphax, in The Mad Lover (2.1.95-98), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 5

3.
– as men transformed wth ye sade tale I told, they stood amaz’d
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (5.1.148-149), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 5

4
– fy fy how lumpish? In a young ladies armes thus dull?
By Hippolyta, in The Custom of the Country (3.2.175-77), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 5

1.
his means are gone in fumo –
By Lovegood, in The Spanish Curate (#1.1.5), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 6

He keeps ye house of pride, &
2 foolery: ‘Twill shortly spew him out.
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (2.4.22-23), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 6

1.
These Court Camelions.
By Chilax, in The Mad Lover (1.1.224), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 7

– they gett all by fooling, meerly
fooling. Desert does noth. valiant, wise, & vertuous are thḡs
yt walk by wth out bread, or breeches.
By Fool, in The Mad Lover (1.2.301-03), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 7

1. – Peace plaies wth you, as ye wind plaies wth feathers, dances
you, you grind wth all gusts, gallants. –
By Chilax, in The Mad Lover (1.1.260-62), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 8

1
–the iron age return’d to Erebus.
By Fool, in The Mad Lover (1.1.282), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 9

-- hang up yor iron,
By Picus, in The Mad Lover (1.2.337), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 9

& turn y or sternesse into courtship
By King of Paphos, in The Mad Lover (None), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 9

1.
Tis but to dy. dogs doe it, ducks wth dabling. Birds sing away
yr soules, & babies sleep th ’em
By Memnon, in The Mad Lover (2.1.1-2), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 10

4
death hath so many doors to let out life I will not long survive ym
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (2.2.35-36), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 10

Undertake a voyage round about
ye world?
By Syphax, in The Mad Lover (2.1.119-24), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11

Stand a breach?
By Syphax, in The Mad Lover (2.1.127-130), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11

3
–but for Cleremont, ye bold, & undertaking Cleremont ---
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.41-2), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11

--thou art all hon or, thy resolution would steele a coward
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (1.2.82-3), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11

Name yt danger, be it of wt horrid shape soev wth I will shrink fro
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (1.3.52-4), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11

- I disclaim thee. My brother yt kept fortune bound, & left
conquest hereditary to his issue could not beget a coward –
By Champernel, in The Little French Lawyer (3.3.2-6), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11

--one soe excellent in all yt ’s noble. Whose only weakness
is excesse of courage. yt knows noe enemies yt he cannot
mast, but his affections.
By Lamira, in The Little French Lawyer (3.1.57-60), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11

4.
– I nev saw so small a bark wth such incredible val so long
defended, & agst such ods, & by 2 men scarse arm’d too.
By Leopold, in The Custom of the Country (2.2.5-8), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11

–And
yet ye courage they exprst being taken, & ye contemt of death
won more upō me yn all they did being free. me thinks I
see ym yet wn they were brought aboard us disarmd & ready
to be putt in fetts How on ye suddain as if they had sworne
nev to tast ye bread of servitutde Both snatchḡ up yr swords
& frō this Virgin Takḡ a farewell only wth yr eyes They leapt
into ye sea --
By Leopold, in The Custom of the Country (2.2.9-18), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11

& wth such strength & cunning, they swim ming did delude ye rising billows, wth one hand making way
& wth ye other yr bloody swords advanc’t, threatng ye seagods
wth war, unlesse they brought ym safely of yt I am almost
confident they live
By Leopold, in The Custom of the Country (2.2.28-33), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11

1.
The loves wee now know are but ye heats of half and houer &
coarse & base appetites, the heyres of idleness & blood.
By Memnon, in The Mad Lover (2.1.132-44), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 12

The issues they beare things like ourselves vaine bubbles, breaths of ayre,
got wth an itching, as blists are sorrow conceives & shapes
ym. & oftentimes ye death of those wee love most brings ym into
ye world.
By Memnon, in The Mad Lover (2.1.159-64), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 12

&c. p. 7
They make time old to tend them & expience an asse they
alter so. They grow. & ere wee can turn or thoughts, like drops of
wat, fall into ye maine, & are knowne noe more. This is ye love
of this world.
By Memnon, in The Mad Lover (#2.1.167-71), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 12

+
True beauty dwells not on a cheek washt ov
By Memnon, in The Mad Lover (2.1.48), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 12

4.
D’ee love as painters doe, only some peices, some cert. handsom
touches of y or Mistris, & let ye mind pass by you unexamin’d?
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.224-226), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 12

– did’st ev see a dog run mad o’the toothach? such another
toy is he now. so he glotes, & a grin̄, & bites
By Chilax, in The Mad Lover (2.2.36-8), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 13

Wild as Winter.
By Polydore, in The Mad Lover (4.5.36), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 13

to a woman of her hopes beguild
A viper trod on, or an aspick’s mild.
By Violante, in The Spanish Curate (4.3.125-6), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 13

-- Noth.ḡ wth in but he, & his lawtempest!
By Diego, in The Spanish Curate (4.7.31), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 13

See where ye sea comes!
how it fomes, & brussels! The great leviathan o’the law, how
it tumbles!
By Lopez, in The Spanish Curate (4.7.35), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 13

3.
– Peace, touch wood.
By Cleremont, in The Little French Lawyer (2.3.142), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 13

4.
– Once wellangerd, & like a sea, they roule, tosse, & chafe
a weeke after. ----
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.338-340), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 13

He has a striving soule ev it attempts or labs at Would wear out 20 bodies in another
By Chilax, in The Mad Lover (2.2.42-44), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 14

2.
Give good fees, & they’l beget good causes.
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (3.1.13), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 15

– Line yor cause
warmly Sr, ye times are aguish. yt holds a plea in my heart. hang
ye penurious. yr causes (like yr purses) have poore issues.
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (3.1.19-21), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 15

Live
full of mony, & supply ye lawyer, & take y or choice of wt mans
land you please, Sr, wt pleasures, or wt ꝑfits, They’re
all y or owne .___
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (3.2.24-7), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 15

1
– thy mangie soule – I shall meet thee, maggot, I shall.
By Memnon, in The Mad Lover (20-1), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 16

Surgeon, serringe, dogleech.
By Memnon, in The Mad Lover (3.2.74-5), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 16

- ye old gaping oyster
By Chilax, in The Mad Lover (5.3.7), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 16

3.
– two edg’d words.
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (5.3.37), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 16

–such scabbs of nature.
By Annabell, in The Little French Lawyer (5.1.74), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 16

4.
thou glorious divell, thou varnisht peice of lust, thou painted
fury
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (4.3.144-45), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 16

- 2.
Remember, varlets, quake
& remember. I have brine for y or buttocks.
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (4.6.189-90), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 17

– 3.
I will make
ye on thy knees, bite out ye tongue yt wrongd me.
By Champernel, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.230-31), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 17

4.
–if you play not faire play, & above board too, I have a
foolish gin heere I say no more, & if y or hon or s gutts are
not inchanted ____
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.143-47), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 17

2.
– he has no heat; study consumes his oyle.
By Diego, in The Spanish Curate (2.2.154-155), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 18

– a modest poore
slight thḡ, onely given to ye book.
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (2.4.4-5), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 18

A lady may weare him next her heart, & yet not warms him. His mind ( poore man)’s o’th’
law, & not on lewdness. On my conscience he knows not how to
look upō a woman more yn by read̄ wt sex she is.
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (2.4.14-9), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 18

1
—A sweeter sorrow I nev lookt upon, nor one yt braver
became his greife.
By Calis, in The Mad Lover (3.4.21-3), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19

– Embalm it in y or truest tears.
-- nev sorrow.
By Polydore, in The Mad Lover (3.4.39), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19

more drops to ye Ocean?
By King of Paphos, in The Mad Lover (5.4.251), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19

but yt
(to perfect my account of sorrow) -- --
By Violante, in The Spanish Curate (4.1.12), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19

3
– wth so full a sorrow yt men frō those rude eyes, yt nev
knew wt pitty means, or mercy, there stole down soft relentings
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (4.1.143-45), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19

--I am girt round wth sorrow hell’s about me
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (5.2.268), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19

4
– ‘twould melt a marble to feele my fortune, & tame a savage.
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.1-2), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19

Strew all y or witherd flowers, y or autumn sweets by ye hote
sunn ravisht of bud, & beauty
By Charino, in The Custom of the Country (1.2.2-3), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19

Thus round about no merry
noise; nor lusty songs be heard here, nor full cups crownd wth
wine make ye rooms giddy.
By Charino, in The Custom of the Country (1.2.8-10), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19

Sing mournfully--& prethee
let thy Lute weepe.
By Charino, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.11-12), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19

– Close retiremts! No visitants ad mitted, not ye day, these sable colos, all signs of tru sorrow.
By Duarte, in The Custom of the Country (5.2.12-14), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19

R.
– being set in years, none of those lusters Appear
now in her age, yt warm ye fancy, nor noth. in her face, but
handsom ruines.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (5.5.46-49), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 20

1. Ent a mask of beasts.
This lion was a man of war yt dyd
to guild his ladies pride. This dog a foole yt hung hims. for
love. This ape wth daily hugging of a glove forgot to eat
& dy’d. This goodly tree An usher yt still grew before his
Lady witherd at root. This, for he could not wooe, a grumbl̄
Lawyer. This py’d bird a page, yt melted out bec. he
wanted age.
By Orpheus, in The Mad Lover (78-86), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 21

– 3
yor psents. courtship, yt s too good a
name, yor slavelike sevices yor morn̄ musick, yor walking
3 howers in ye raine at midnight To see her at her window,
sometimes laught at, sometimes admitted, & vouchsaf’d to
kisse her glove, her skirt, nay I’ve heard her slippers. How yn
you triumpht?
By Cleremont, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.101-7), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 21

– 4.
‘tis now in fashion Having a Mris, sure
you shd not be wth out a neat historicall shirt.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (2.3.24-26), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 21

1
– Faire, or foule, blind, or lame comes not amisse to him.
By Polybius, in The Mad Lover (4.5.18-20), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

he
rides like a night mare all ages, & all religions.
By Polydore, in The Mad Lover (4.5.20-21), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

– She has
smockt away her blood.
By Polydore, in The Mad Lover (4.5.18), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

– where gott he this vermin? &.
By Eumenes, in The Mad Lover (4.5.13), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

– on easy- yeelding wanton
By Jacintha, in The Spanish Curate (3.3.147), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

-- tir’d wth loose dalliance, & wth emty vaines
By Violante, in The Spanish Curate (4.1.9), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

3
– evy bone about you shakes you good Almanack makers to
foretell wt weather wee shall have.
By Champernel, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.280-82), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

– Ovid’s afternoone.
By Cleremont, in The Little French Lawyer (4.7.67), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

-- ye spring of chastity.
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (5.1.246), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

She did defile wth mud, ye mud of lust,
& made it lothsom even to goats—
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (5.1.248-49), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

4.
–a dainty wench. would I might farme his custome.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.61-62), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

--a towne bull is a meer stoick to this fellow, ~~& a Spanish, jennet~~ a grave philosopher, & a spanish jennet a most
vertuous gentleman.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.159-161), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

– a cat a mountain
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.158), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

– A Caniball
yt feeds on ye heads of maids
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.155), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

– a rogue yt breaks young
wenches to ye saddle
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.167), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

& knowes ye ꝑfect mannage
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.174), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

excellt dissectr, yt has cutt up more tender lamb pies—
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.180-81), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

--this puckfist, this univsall rutter--
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.2.24-25), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

-- o’ yor kidnies
how they begin to melt! how big he beares. Sure he will
leap before us all!
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.259-61), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

how ye dog leeres!
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.264), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

– hote, so fiery
& my blood beats alarums thro my body, & fancy high
By Clodio, in The Custom of the Country (1.2.41-3), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

would you have
children? Hee’l get you those as fast, & thick as flieblows.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (3.3.81-82), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

--he was of Italy, & yt country breeds not Precisians yt way, but
hote Libertines
By Duarte, in The Custom of the Country (4.1.47-48), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

—the man’s lost. You may gather up his
dry bones to make ninepins, but for his flesh—
By Jacintha, in The Spanish Curate (4.4.28-30), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

—look’s as
if he were Crowtrodden. fy how his has shrink unđunder him!
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (4.4.54-55), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

- appears like a rascall yt had bin hung a year, or two in gibbets.
By Sulpitia, in The Custom of the Country (4.4.59-60), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

- Draws his legs aft him like a lame dog.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (4.4.88), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

– O ye old Lady!
I tame a kind of waitgwom. lies cross my back too. ô how she
stings!
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (4.4.72-74), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

– ye worst exercise in ye world. to be drunk wth good
Canary a meer Julip, or like gourd wat to it. 20 surfets
come short of one nightsworke.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (5.1.17-20), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

Make me a dog kennell, I’le keep yor house & bark,
& feed on bare bones. & be whipt out of doores.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (4.4.119-21), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

& rather yn laborḡ
these fulling mills.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (4.4.107-108), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22

– stinks like a poyson’d ratt behind
a hanging, or a rotten cabbage.
By Memnon, in The Mad Lover (4.5.44-5), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23

– the good old gentlewom.
is strucken dumb. & there her grace sits mumping like an
old ape eating of brawne.
By Chilax, in The Mad Lover (5.4.8-10), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23

I dare tell you to yor new ceruz’d face, You are ye proudest th. & have ye least reason to be soe, yt I ev read of. In stature
you are a giantess, & yor tailor takes measure of you wth a
Jacobs staffe, or he can nev reach you. For yor complexion, you
are so farre frō faire, I doubt yor mother was too familiar
wth ye Moore yt serv’d her. Y or limbs, & features I pass breifely
ov, as thr not worth description, & come roundly to your Soule
if you have any. for ‘tis doubtfull.
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (4.1.32-46), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23

I have spoken. &c_
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (5.1.33), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23

3
– wt an alphabet of faces he puts on? or) runs through?
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (2.3.24), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23

-- ye dry bisket rogue
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (2.3.58), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23

– a bedrid winter hang upon y or
cheeks, & blast, blast, blast those buds of pride yt paint you—
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (3.5.58-60), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23

4
– meager paleness like winter nips ye roses, & ye lillies, the
spring yt youth & love adornd her love wth
By Sulpitia, in The Custom of the Country (5.2.3-5), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23

-- ye image of pale death stampt on her forehead.
By Zabulon, in The Custom of the Country (5.2.21), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23

1
– smells like mornings breath, pure amber, beyond ye courted
Indies in her spices.
By Memnon, in The Mad Lover (4.5.49-50), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24

2
—whose all-excelling forme Disdaines compa rison wth any shee, yt putts in for a faire one__
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (1.1.262-254), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24

whō curious
nature made wth out a pattn, Whose copy she hath lost too –
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (1.1.271-72), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24

--some pfer the French for yr conceited dressings – some ye plump
Itatian bona roba’s
By Leandro, in The Spanish Curate (1.1.248-50), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24

– I’m strucken dumb wth wonder! sure
all ye excellence of ye Earth dwells heere.
By Leandro, in The Spanish Curate (2.4.69-70), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24

– How his eyes like
torches fling yr beams round: how manly his face shewes!
By Amaranta, in The Spanish Curate (2.4.71-72), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24

-- those divine lips where ꝑpetuall spring growes.
By Leandro, in The Spanish Curate (3.4.94), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24

3
– faire orb of beauty.
By Chorus, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.142), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24

-- putt on all her beauties, all her enticemts, outblush damask
roses, & dim ye breaking East wth her bright chrystalls.
By Clodio, in The Custom of the Country (1.2.46-8), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24

-- ye beautteous huntress. Diana shews an Ethiope to this beauty.
By Clodio, in The Custom of the Country (1.2.53-54), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24

Ha! bless mine eyes! wt pcious peice of nature to pose ye
world?
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (3.2.62-3), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24

– Bless me! wt starrs are there?
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (3.2.69), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24

-- ye abstract of all sweetnesse,
By Zabulon, in The Custom of the Country (3.2.75), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24

--as faire as if ye mor= ning bare her. Imagination nev made a sweeter. –
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (3.2.131-32), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24

--they flattered me yt sd my looks were charms, my touches fet: ters. My locks soft chains to bind ye arms of Princes, & make ym
in yt wisht for bondage happy.
By Hippolyta, in The Custom of the Country (3.4.23-6), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24

I would resigne my essence, yt he were As happy as my love could
fashion him, Tho evy bless'g yt shd fall on him, might pve a curse to me
By Jacintha, in The Spanish Curate (4.4.6-9), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 25

3.
– ye soft-plum’d god
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (5.1.147), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 25

– licks his fingers, kneeling, &
whining like a boy new breacht To get a toy forsooth not worth
an apple—
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (5.1.254-56), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 25

4
– to him in sacred vow I’ve given this body, in him my mind inhabits
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.121-22), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 25

yr thred of life was spun
together –
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (5.4.90-1), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 25

2
– carefull to on whoō he showres his bounties. He yts Liberall
to all alike, may doe a good by chance, but nev out of
judgemt.
By Angelo Milanes, in The Spanish Curate (1.1.20-3), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 26

– 4.
(jewels)
--& wn I list to give such toies of lesser
By Hippolyta, in The Custom of the Country (#3.2.161-62), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 26

Thus like ye lazy minutes will I drop ym wch
past once are forgotten.
By Hippolyta, in The Custom of the Country (3.2.163-64), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 26

2
y or gathering sires so long heap muck together yt yr ^kind sons
to ease ym of ye care wish ym in heaven—
By Angelo Milanes, in The Spanish Curate (1.1.5-7), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27

-- joyn farm to farm, suffer no LoP yt in a cleare day Falls
in ye prospect of yor covetous ey to be anothers. take use
upon use, & cutt ye throats of hayres wth cozening Mortgages
rack yor poore tenants, till they look like so many skeletons
for want of food: And wn yt widdows curses ye ruines of ancient
families, tears of Orphans Have hurried you to ye devill, yor heyr will dance merrily upō yor grave, ꝑhaps give a double
pistolet to some poore needy fryer to say a mass to keepe
y or ghost frō walking.
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (1.1.197-211), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27

Then could you find a loophole to look out you’d see ransack y or iron chests. & once again
Pluto’s flamecolord daughter shall be free to domineer in
Taverns, masks, & revells, as she was us’d before she was
y or captive.
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (1.1.214-19), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27

– covetous beyond exprssion. & to increase
his heape will dare ye devill & all ye plagues of darknesse.
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (1.1.280-282), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27

--at home liv’d like a camelion, suckt ye aire of misery, & grew
fat by ye brewis of an Egshell. would smell a cooksshop, & goe
home, & surfet, & be a month in fasting out yt fev.
By Lopez, in The Spanish Curate (4.5.19-23), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27

I'le clap 4 tire of teeth into my mouth more
but I will grind his substance.
By Diego, in The Spanish Curate (4.7.129-30), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27

3
– already one foot in ye grave, yet study pfit, as if you were
assur’d to live heere ev.
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.161-62), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27

- All this was purchast by
lawlesse force, & so you but revell in The teares, & grones
of such as were ye owners
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.213-215), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27

4
like a rich miser Hoard up yor treasure imꝑtg Nor to yors nor
others ye use of ym. They are to you but like inchanted Viands
On wch you seeme to feed, yet pine wth hunger
By Guiomar, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.133-37), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27

2
– So jealous as if you’d parallel Old Arg9 to him you
must multiply his eyes a 100 times. of these none sleepe.
He yt would charme ye heaviest lidd must hire a better
Mercury yn Jove made use of.
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (1.1.283-87), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 28

– He thus lessons his wife;
a retir’d sweet life, Private, & close, & still, & housewifely
becomes a wife, sets of ye grace of woman. At home to be
beleev’d both young. & handsome, As lillies yt are cas’d in chry= stall glasses, Makes up ye wonder: shew it abroad, ‘tis stale. &
still ye more eyes cheapen it, ‘tis more slubberd. And wt need
windows open to inviting? or evening Tarrases to take opi nions? wn ye most wholsome aire blows inwards, wn good thoughts
are yn noblest companions, & old chast stories ye best discourses. --
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (2.2.1-12), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 28

The 100000 dreams now yt possesse him of jealousy, & of
revenge & frailty.
By Angelo Milanes, in The Spanish Curate (4.7.17-8), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 28

3. –
R.
did he not take measure of my sheets?
By Champernel, in The Little French Lawyer (81-82), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 28

2
Can you wth one hand prop a falling tower or wth the
other stop ye raging maine wn it breaks in on ye usurped
shore, or any th. ] yt is imposs? then conclude yt there is some
way left to move him to compassion ----
By Octavio, in The Spanish Curate (1.2.6-11), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 29

2.
tame silence ( ye balme of ye oppressed )
By Octavio, in The Spanish Curate (1.2.23-24), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 30

– though my
wrongs were centipli’d upō mys.. I could be patient –
By Jacintha, in The Spanish Curate (1.2.28-29), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 30

2.
they wth joy behold ye Modells of yr youth, & as yr root
decaies those budding branches Sprout forth, & flourish to
renew yr age.
By DonHenrique, in The Spanish Curate (1.3.15-17), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 31

– In Spain they eat noth. but herbs &
get noth. but greene sawce. Some pore labourers ꝑhaps
once in 7 yeare wth helping one another produce some
few pin’d butt prints, yt scarce hold ye christ’ning neither.
By Diego, in The Spanish Curate (2.1.66-70), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 31

2.
ye lawyers man handled his wives case. a law point were
worth ye canvassing.
By Diego, in The Spanish Curate (2.3.143-45), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 32

he dubbt him
By Lopez, in The Spanish Curate (2.3.152), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 32

– ploughd wth his
fine white heifer.
By Arsenio, in The Spanish Curate (2.3.12-13), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 32

– crown’d ye Lawyer a learned monst
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (2.4.16-28), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 32

-- a thick ram headed knave –
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (5.2.85), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 32

3.
How ye thing lookes!
By Beaupre, in The Little French Lawyer (2.1.80), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 33

4.
– now swoln so high yt he is shun’d of all faire societies.
By Manuel, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.59), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 33

I look down upō him wth such content, & scorne As on my
slave.
By Duarte, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.91-92), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 33

compare wth mee? tis giantlike ambition.
By Duarte, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.99-100), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 33

- yor too many excellencies, yt feed y or pride, turne to a Phi:
nity, & kill, wt they shd no wish, Vertue –
By Manuel, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.141-43), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 33

2.
If I stood here to plead an evill cause,
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (3.3.66-67), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 34

It would be req= site I shd deck my Language wth tropes, & figures, & all flou- rishes yt grace a Rhetorician. Adultate metals need ye gold= smith’s art to set em of. wt in its. is ꝑfect contemns a bor= rowed glosse.
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (3.3.70-75), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 34

a lawyer yt entangles all
mens honesties. & lives like a spider in a cobweb lurking, &
catching at all flies yt passe his pittfalls. puts powder to
all states to make ‘em caper.
By Lopez, in The Spanish Curate (4.5.166-70), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 35

– Noth. wth in, but he, &
his lawtempet.
By Diego, in The Spanish Curate (4.7.31), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 35

2.
wn wee are red wth murther, lett us often bath in blood,
the col or will be scarlet.
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (5.2.137-39), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 36

3.
– R.
–As you had a mother
By Lamira, in The Little French Lawyer (5.1.62-64), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 36

4
– now you feast on my miseries
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (86-87), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 36

3
yt daring vice for wch ye whole age suffers. The blood or bold
youth yt heeretofore was spent in hoble action Or to defend or
to enlarge ye kingd.. Poures its. out wth Odd p abbreviation: check MUFI pdigall expence upō or
mothers lap ye earth, yt bred us, for evy trifle.
By Cleremont, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.12-15), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 37

And I have heard
yt some of or late Ks (of France Sr) For ye wearing of a Mistris
feathers, a cheat at cards, or dice Have lost as many gallt gentle
men, as might have mett ye great Turk in ye feild, wth confidence
of a glorious Victory.
By Cleremont, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.29-35), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 37

‘Tis banisht frō all civill govnemts
scarce 3 in Venice in as many years, in Florence they are rarer
& in all ye faire dominions of ye Sp. K. They’re nev heard of—
By Cleremont, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.22-26), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 37

— ye coon 2d.
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.50), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 37

flesht & enterd bravely at 15.
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.49-50), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 37

Chosen to compound quarells, as pore men seek arbitrators
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.55-56), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 37

– studied in all ye criticismes of contention
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.60-61), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 37

—Mine is noe Helens beauty, to be purchast wth blood—
By Lamira, in The Little French Lawyer (1.3.58), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 37

--was there noe tree, ~~to for~~ or riv to force thy life out
backward or to drowne it, but yt thou must survive thy
infamy? & kill me wth ye sight of one I hate, & gladly
would forgett.
By Champernel, in The Little French Lawyer (3.1.11-17), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 38

4.
Hide not yt bitt pill I loath to swallow in such sweet words.
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.92-93), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 39

4.
his very looks are faire examples. his comon & indiff.
actions Rules, & strong ties of vertue —
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.118-120), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 40

You are so heavenly good, no man can reach you
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.248), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 40

-- shd she dye robbḡ this age of all yt ’s good, or gracefull.
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (5.4.25-26), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 40

--O yn dread power yt mads’t this All, & of thy workmanship
this maid ye mastpeice, look down on her &c.
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (5.4.1-3), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 40

– Let iocence,
to wch all passages in heaven stand open Appear in her white
robe before thy throne & mediate for her –
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (5.4.7-10), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 40

-- a nation laden wth admir’d example—
By Guiomar, in The Custom of the Country (5.5.13), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 40

4.
wt sacrifice of thanks, wt age of service, wt danger of
more dreadf look yn death, wt willing martyrdome &c may
merit such a goodnesse &c
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.129-132), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 41

– Lett me first fall
Before y or feet & on you pay ye duty I ow yor goodnes. ~~next all blessings to you~~ may you ever be the Goddesse stil’d of
hospitalitie.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (2.4.114-119), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 41

4.
– one I hate, as heaven hates falshood.
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.108), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 42

– this hearte
hates you, as you were born my full antipathy
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.236-37), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 42

-- I’d love yt villain first, had cutt my fathers throat.—
By Hippolyta, in The Custom of the Country (4.3.125-26), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 42

4
– a p of shackles will hang tighter on you & a quartain
fever find you quieter
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.325-26), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 43

4.
give me some wine & fill it till it leap upō my lipps.
By Clodio, in The Custom of the Country (1.2.33-34), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 44

Lett ye wines be lusty, & high, & full of spirit and amberd all.
By Zabulon, in The Custom of the Country (3.2.5-6), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 44

4.
Hee’s a name onely. & all good in him He must derive frō
his great grandsires ashes. For had not yr victorious acts be-
queath’d His titles to him, & wrot on his forehead This is a
Ld, he had liv’d unobserv’d By any man of mark, & dyed as
one Among ye coon rout.
By Duarte, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.94-104), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 45

yt man is truly noble, & he
may justly call yt worth his own, wch his deserts have purchast.
I could wish my birth were more obscure &c—
By Duarte, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.101-04), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 45

4
– wee are stangers, wonderous hungry strangers, & charity
growing cold, & miracles ceasing, wth out a conjuerers help, I
cannot find wn wee shall eat againe.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (2.3.5-8), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 46

– hope is a
poor sallad to dine, & sup wth aft a 2 daies fast too.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (2.3.21-22), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 46

4.
well, blind fortune, thou hast ye prettiest changes,
wn thou it pleas’d to play thy game out wantonly –
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (3.2.37-39), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 47

--another smile. another trick of fortune to deceive us.
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (4.3.204-05), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 47

4.
– ye tempest well met wth at sea were smooth gales
compar’d to those, ye memory of my lusts raisd in my consc.
By Clodio, in The Custom of the Country (3.5.2-5), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 48

--Then we live indeed, wn we can goe to rest wth out a larum Given evy mintue to a guiltsick consc.. To keep
us wakḡ, & rise in ye mornḡ secure in being iocent; but
wn yn the remembr. of or worser actions we ev bear about us whips,
& furies To make ye day a night of sorrow to us Even life’s a
burthen .----
By Doctor, in The Custom of the Country (4.1.6-14), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 48

4. a Bravo.
pay him, & hee’l do anyth.ḡ tho hell stood
in his way.
By Zabulon, in The Custom of the Country (2.4.1-2), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 49

He has a strange aspect, & looks much like ye
figure of a hangman. In a table of ye passion.
By Leopold, in The Custom of the Country (4.2.3-5), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 49

– a fleshd
ruffian, who hath so often taken ye strappado, yt tis to him but
as a lofty trick Is to a tumbler. he hath perus’d too all
dungeons in ye kingd.. thrice 7 yeares row’d in ye gallies
for 3 sevall murthers. & scapt unpunisht for a 100.
By Zabulon, in The Custom of the Country (4.2.6-13), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 49

He will kill a man for 10 pistolets.
By Zabulon, in The Custom of the Country (4.2.22), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 49

but will not beat him und 500. for yn he may rec ov, & be reveng’d: But a dog yt’s dead will nev bite, s ye Span. ꝑvb.
By Bravo, in The Custom of the Country (4.2.26-7), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 49

4.
– more misery? more ruine? Under wt angry starre is
my life govnd?
By Clodio, in The Custom of the Country (4.3.201-02), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 50

-- advse fortune bandying us from
one hazard to another.
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (5.4.57-58), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 50

4
– a 2d Hecate, ye great coandress of ye fatall sisters,
yt as she pleases can outshort, or lengthen ye thread of life—
By Zabulon, in The Custom of the Country (5.2.22-25), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 51

Why shd I twine my Arms to Cables? sigh my soul to
Air? sit up all night like a watchḡ candle? Distill
my brains thro my eyes?
By Sulpitia, in The Custom of the Country (TLN1114-1116), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71

So wise, qu. he had Eat nothing but brains & marrow
of Machiavell: tips his speech with Ital. motti; spanish
Refranes & English Quoth-Hees. Beleeve me, not a
a provb falts yor tongue, but plants whole colonies
of white Hairs.
By Sulpitia, in The Custom of the Country (TLN2282-2287), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71

Fy! Wise Lovers are m. absurd.
By Sulpitia, in The Custom of the Country (TLN2295-2296), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71

Act.1.
If hee depend on others, and stand not on his owne bottomes
By Angelina, in The Elder Brother (1.1.83-84), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 85v

xx
Re, butler and cooks
sonn of ye buttery and kitchin
By Andrew, in The Elder Brother (1.2.18), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 85v

Would you have it saied Sr, for great and deepe a scholler as Mr Charls is should aske blessing
in any Xtian language.
By Andrew, in The Elder Brother (1.2.42-43), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 85v

Bid my subsiser carry my hackney to ye buttery; / and give him his beaver Book says "bever," but then refers to beast. You may want to check -SH; it is a civil / and
sober beast, and will drinke moderately, and yt done ture him into ye quadrangle.
By Charles, in The Elder Brother (1.2.88-91), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 85v

you have studied majors, and yr minors, antecedents and ↄsequents to bee ↄcluded coxcombes
By Andrew, in The Elder Brother (1.2.270-272), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 85v

Beecause hee hath binne at court and learnd new tongues, / and how to speake a tedius peece of nothing
By Miramont, in The Elder Brother (2.1.27), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 85v

Though I can speake noe greeke, I love ye sound of it, / it goes soe thundering as it ↄjur'd devils.
By Miramont, in The Elder Brother (2.1.54-55), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 85v

A gentleman forsooth / yt knowes not what motion is, more then an horse-race? / what ye moone
meanes, but to light him home from Tavernes? / or the ↄfort of ye sunne is, but to weare slasht
clothes in. / and must this peece of ignorance bee popt up, beecause't can kisse ye hand, and cry sweet lady?
By Miramont, in The Elder Brother (2.1.68-72), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 85v

Thou monstrous peece of ignorance in office! / thou yt hast noe more knowledge then thy clerke infuses;/
Thou unreprievable dunce! yt thy formal bandstrings, / thy ring nor pomander can expiate for. / Ile
pose thy worship / in thine owne library an Almanacke.
By Miramont, in The Elder Brother (2.1.102-109), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 85v

thou art ten times worse, / and of
less credit then dunce Hollinsheade yt writes of showes and sheriffs.
By Miramont, in The Elder Brother (2.1.117-120), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 85v

A maide [that]s ready for ye houre, / and like a blushing rose yt stays ye pulling
By Lewis, in The Elder Brother (2.1.145-146), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 85v

A dumbe iustice? / a flat dull peece of flegme, shapd like a man, / a reuerent idoll in a peece of arras.
By Miramont, in The Elder Brother (2.1.160), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 85v

Aske them any thing | out of [the] element of their vnderstanding ,| and they stand gaping like a roasted pig. | doe they know any thing but a tired hackney?| and they cry absurd as [that] harse vnderstand them
By Cowsy, in The Elder Brother (2.2.16-22), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

to speeke [the] lispe of count, oh tis great learning!
By Cowsy, in The Elder Brother (2.2.41), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

A maske is not halfe an houres worke; A Cupid, and a fiddle and [the] things done.
By Egremont, in The Elder Brother (2.2.48), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

Iue read of entertainements of [the] gods at halfe this charge.
By Charles, in The Elder Brother (3.3.34-35), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

Beauty cleare and faire ;| where [the] aire | rather like a sfume dwells; | where [the] violet and [the] rose| their blew veines in blush disclose | and come to honour nothing else. | Where to liue neere ,| and planted there,| is to liue and still liue new;| where to gaine a fauours is | more then light, ppetual blisse, | make mee liue by seruing you.|| deare againe barke re- call, | to this light, | A Stronger to himselfe and all: | both [the] wonder and [the] story | shal bee goers, and eke [the] glory | I am your seruant and [your] thrall.
By Charles, in The Elder Brother (3.5.77-94), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

[the] old man cannot loue his heapes of gold| [with] a more doting sustition, | then ile loue you
By Charles, in The Elder Brother (3.5.163-165), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

Weele liue together like two wanton vines,| circling or soules and loues in one another; | weele spring together, and weele beare one fruit,| one ioy shall make vs smile, and one greife mourne, | one age goe [with] vs, and one houre of death| shall shut our eyes, and one graue make vs happy.
By Charles, in The Elder Brother (3.5.171-176), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

Act: 4. you haue noe soules, noe mettall in your bloods ,| frozen dull things [that] must bee / urnd [with] leauers, | yea haue noe more spiritts then 3 sleepy sops.
By Brisac, in The Elder Brother (4.1.4-9), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

Tis not your base scandale can cast an assion on mee.
By Brisac, in The Elder Brother (4.2.66-67), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

"run-in" x I am wounded in fact, he indeed ^really
By Brisac, in The Elder Brother (4.2.66-67), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

sooner would I force a separation| beetwixt this spirit and [the] case of flesh, | then but
ceiue one reideness against chastity.
By Charles, in The Elder Brother (4.3.66-67), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

good night to you, and may [the] dew of sleepe fall gently on you sweet one; noe dreames but chast and cleare attempt [your] fancy, | and breake beetimes, sweet morne, I'm lost my light els.
By Charles, in The Elder Brother (4.3.101-105), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

How you sit dumbe now like a signe of a man.
By Charles, in The Elder Brother (4.3.154-155), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

xx a gentleman, a coward. st George vpon a signe would grow more sensible;| if [the] name of honour were for euer to bee lost.
By Angelina, in The Elder Brother (4.4.203-204), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

What? was this song pend at Geneua, it is soe psalinelike-
By Andrew, in The Elder Brother (4.4.19-20), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

Tis pittiful to bring a man backe from his grammar to his hornebooke. he, to make hismckold.
By Andrew, in The Elder Brother (4.4.125-126), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

What haue you eate a snake? you are growne young, gamesome, and rampant.
By Andrew, in The Elder Brother (4.4.143-144), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

I thinke [Sir] I haue giuen you a heate. (speake this to biffx ffr whome [that] call horse)
By Lily, in The Elder Brother (4.4.171), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

Act. 5. ffighting may bee in fashion,| among prouent swords, and buffe-ieckin men.
By Egremont, in The Elder Brother (5.1.19-20), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

such as you render [the] count temptible, you are Scarabees, [that] batten in thorthoce her dung, and haue noe pallats | to tast her curious viands.
By Eustace, in The Elder Brother (5.1.53-56), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

Recant what you haue saide, yee mungrills, and licke vp [the] vomit you haue cast on [the] count.
By Eustace, in The Elder Brother (5.1.80-82), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

[that] dead flesh of sinne soe growing ouer. your reputation, as noe balme or gentle vnguent euer could make way to it
By Charles, in The Elder Brother (5.1.183-184), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

x This discourse is from [the] subiect.
By Charles, in The Elder Brother (5.1.193-194), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

As for [the] sword and other fripperies send for them you shall haue them.
By Charles, in The Elder Brother (5.1.210-211), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

he, things of rare value
By Ralph, in The Elder Brother (2.3.19), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

Ile cast beehind mee all has of nature.
By Charles, in The Elder Brother (5.1.213-214), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

he, ile not regard them.
By Charles, in The Elder Brother (2.4.39), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

you may speake what you please it will all bee but lipsalue.
By Eustace, in The Elder Brother (5.1.277), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 86r

The multitude yt seldome know any thing but their owne opinions speake yt they would have
By Dion, in Philaster (1.1.11-13), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

A State order, or p clamation.
By Dion, in Philaster (1.1.38), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

xx
Shee may stand still discreetly enough, but ill favourdly dance her
measure.
By Dion, in Philaster (1.1.49-50), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

xx
you are untraveld. they have never beene at travels
By Lady, in Philaster (1.1.69-70), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

You are not able to maintaine a discourse nor make a leg nor say excuse mee discreetly.
By Lady, in Philaster (1.1.75-77), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

My raigne shall bee soe easy to ye subject, / yt every man shall bee his prince himself, /
and his owne law
By Pharamond, in Philaster (1.1.152-154), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

xx
I wonder what's ye price? for certainly heele sell himselfe he has
soe praisd his shape
By Dion, in Philaster (1.1.165-166), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

Let me perish, if I can find in all ye anotomy of yon mans
vertues, one sinew sound enough to promise for him hee shall bee constable.
By Dion, in Philaster (1.1.169-172), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

Right noble Sr, as low as my obedience, / and wth a heart as loyall as my knee, / I beg yor favour.
By Philaster, in Philaster (1.1.175-177), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

Nere stare, nor put on wonder: for you must / endure mee and you shall. This earth you
tread upon, / (a dowry as you hope wth this faire princess, / whose memory I bow to) was
not left / by my dead father (oh, I had a father to yor inheritance and I up and living./
having my selfe about mee and my sword, / ye soules of all my name, and memories, / these
armes and some few freinds, beside ye the gods, / to part soe calmely wth it and sitt still, /
and say I might have beene. I tell thee Pharamond / when thou are King
look I bee dead and rotten / and my name ashes.
By Philaster, in Philaster (1.1.186-198), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

A.
B.
You are too bold
By King, in Philaster (1.1.208-209), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

If you were sole inheritor to him / yt made ye world his: and coulst see noe sunne / shine upon
any thing but thine.
By Philaster, in Philaster (1.1.229-231), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

xx
mens hearts and faces are soe farre asunder yt they hold noe intelligence.
By Dion, in Philaster (1.1.261-262), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

A.
B.
smooth yor brow or by ye gods.
By King, in Philaster (1.1.271-272), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

To doe this is to give fire to a dangerous traine
By Dion, in Philaster (1.1.304-305), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

xx
to live recluse.
By Philaster, in Philaster (1.1.315), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

A.
B.
My lord ye princess would speake wth you
By Lady, in Philaster (1.1.339-341), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

Your eye may shoote mee dead, or those true red and white friends on her face may steale my ^ (soule out.
By Philaster, in Philaster (1.1.351-352), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

Nay stare not: I can thinke my selfe as great a basyliske as you.
By Philaster, in Philaster (1.2.72-73), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

Another soule into my body shot, / could not have fild mee wth more strengh and spirit, / than
this thy breath.
By Arethusa, in Philaster (1.2.98-101), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

xx
let us leave and kisse, least some unwelcome guest should fall betwixt us, /
and wee should part wth out it.
By Arethusa, in Philaster (1.2.106-108), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

xx
Hide mee from Pharamond! When thunder speakes, wch
is ye voice of Jove, / though I doe reverence yet I hide me not.
By Arethusa, in Philaster (1.2.149-151), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

I am loath to brawle wth such a s blast as thou / who art nought but a valiant voice: but if /
thou shalt pvoke mee further: man shall say / thou wert, and not lament it.
By Philaster, in Philaster (1.2.179-182), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

Sr, you did take mee up when I was nothing, / and onely yet am something by beeing yours.
By Bellario, in Philaster (2.1.5-7), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

My lord, take this little praier. May sicke men, if they have your wish, bee well: / and heaven
hate those you curse though I bee one.
By Bellario, in Philaster (2.1.52-56), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

xx
This art does outdoe story
By Philaster, in Philaster (2.1.60), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

Bee not bawdy, nor dont brag. and then I thinke, I shall have sence enough to answere
all ye weighty apothegmes. yor roiall blood shall manage.
By Philaster, in Philaster (2.2.14-18), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

A.
B.
Deare lady.
By Pharamond, in Philaster (2.2.19-25), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

your lips are 2 twind cherries died in blushes, / wch those faire sunns above wth their bright
beames / reflect upon and ripen: sweetest beauty, / bow downe those branches, yt ye lon-ging tast, / of the faint looker on, may meete those blessings, / and tast and live.
By Pharamond, in Philaster (2.2.82-87), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

Thy brows and cheekes are smooth as waters bee when noe breath troubles them.
By Arethusa, in Philaster (2.3.43-44), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

Come ladies shall wee talke a round: as men doe walke a mile, woemen should talke an houre
after supper.
By Dion, in Philaster (2.4.1-3), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

xx
Thou peice / made by a painter, and a Pothecary: / thou troubled sea
of lust. thou wilderness, / inhabited by wilde thoughts: thou swolne cloud / of infection.
By King, in Philaster (2.4.139-143), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

By all ye gods you swore by, and as many more of mine owne.
By Megra, in Philaster (2.4.155-156), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

ye people are all bent for him, / and like a feild of standing corne, yts moovd / wth a stiffe
gale; their heads bow all one way.
By Cleremont, in Philaster (3.1.20-23), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

xx
set hills on hills beetwixt mee and ye man yt utters this,
and I will scale them all, / and from ye utmost top fall on his neck, / like thunder from a cloud.
By Philaster, in Philaster (3.1.73-76), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

ye winds yt are let loose, / from ye foure several corners of ye earth, / and spread themselves all over sea and
land, / kisse not a chast one
By Philaster, in Philaster (3.1.119-122), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

xx A:
B.
A.
(This is a common expression every poet when a man is, (troubled wthin.) ***
areyou not ill my lord.
By Bellario, in Philaster (3.1.187-191), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

Now I see, why my disturbed thoughts were soe pplext when first I went to her/ my heart held augury
By Philaster, in Philaster (3.1.207-209), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

Hew mee asunder, and whilst I can thinke, / Ile love those pieces you have cut away,/
better than those yt growe: and kisse those limbs / beecause you made them soe
By Bellario, in Philaster (3.1.247-250), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94v

To die is lesse then to bee borne, a lasting sleepe, a thing wee all pursue: I
know besides, it is but giuing ouer of a game, [that] must bee lost.
By Bellario, in Philaster (3.1.256-260), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94v

I will flie as farre as there is morning ere I giue distast to these most honourd mind.
By Bellario, in Philaster (3.1.284-286), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94v

If you shall heare [that] sorrows strucke mee dead, | and after find mee loiall, let there |
a teare shed from you, in my memory,| and I shall rest at peace.
By Bellario, in Philaster (3.1.290-293), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94v

[the] vulgar feed vpon opinions, errors, dreames: they strike [the] monuments| where noble naues lie sleeping: til they sweat, | and ye cold marble melt.
By Arethusa, in Philaster (3.2.37-45), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94v

peace to [your] fairest thoughts, deare Mrs
By Philaster, in Philaster (3.2.46-47), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94v

⊕	Anonymous
⊕	Beaumont, Francis
⊕	Cartwright, William
⊕	Chapman, George
⊕	Daborne, Robert
⊕	Daniel, Samuel
⊕	Dekker, Thomas
⊕	Denham, John
⊕	Ford, John
⊕	Gent, J. W.,
⊕	Goffe, Thomas
⊕	Greville, Fulke
⊕	Hausted, Peter
⊕	Heywood, Thomas
⊕	Jonson, Ben
⊕	Lyly, John
⊕	Marston, John
⊕	Massinger, Philip
⊕	Middleton, Thomas
⊕	Milton, John
⊕	Peaps, William
⊕	Quarles, Francis
⊕	Shakespeare, William
⊕	Shirley, Henry
⊕	Shirley, James
⊕	Sidney, Sir Philip
⊕	source, not in
⊕	Suckling, Sir John
⊕	Tomkis, Thomas
⊕	Tourneur, Cyril
⊕	Webster, John
⊕	Wilkins, George

Authors

Francis Beaumont - Results found: 311