Nabbes, Thomas · published 1637 · first performed or written 1635 (Annals) tragedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T2 Roman politics: senate, consuls and civi · 498 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T2: rome, caesar, senate, sulla, roman, consul, brutus, romans, men, marius.
But if Syphax Would hear our reasons. Crates you have been Our worthy counsellor, and by your wisdom Steered government in a right course whilst yet Our youth did want it: but we are now grown Riper in judgement, and we can distinguish The different grounds of any politic act. Nor do we find it safe in rules of state If Scipio be not welcome. What's your haste? The Roman General is arrived, and entering. And no feigned thunder to inform us of it From the loud voice of flocking multitudes, Should throng to bid him welcome? he's scarce known To any but myself. His train is private, Without due state: only some needful servants To wait upon his person. Were they his army, I would exhaust my treasury to feast them: And every common soldier should drink healths In his Corinthian Goblet, which should be His largesse likewise. Let our ministers Fill the shrill throats of wars loud instruments. And Dodonean brass be beaten deaf Whilst it proclaims his welcome. Let the Sea Echo the sounds to Sagant, and return Their shoots again. Never did Syphax joyful arms embrace A guest of so rich value, in whose mind Worlds of heroic virtues are congested To make him up a worthy. I'll not answer Your kindness Syphax with a compliment. My tongue's not oiled with flattery. I have stolen A little time from action, to inform Numidia's King, how Rome, by my advice, Hath chosen him a favourer of her cause That suffers by false Carthage. The success Of my recovering Spain, hath given new hopes Unto her fainting spirits, that were near Their last expiring by the massacres The Carthaginian made. six Consuls have Already fallen: my Father, and mine Uncle; Sempronius; Terentius and Flaminius; And last Marcellus, who received his death Even in the sight of Rome. Yet there's a Scipio survives to conquer him, or die in th'enterprise. And that brave Scipio shall not want what aid My person, or my Kingdom can afford him. Rome shall make great esteem of Syphax friendship And when she shall be wrapped in silken wings Of victory and peace, his statue crowned Shall grace the triumph. I should rather joy To see him chained a captive, though myself And family were sold to be his ransom, In Carthage quarrel. This cold entertainment Doth make me jealous. See: how soon their eyes Have found each other? Sure 'tis Hannibal. His name and nature's stamped upon his brow; I in those wrinkles read it: valour mixed With cruelty; to which ambition only As the first wheel in engines moves the rest. That eye he lost passing the fens of Arnus; And such a look his counterfeit is drawn with. If there be treachery. What would Hannibal? Is't Hannibal? We are betrayed by Syphax. What art? Rome's General, and thy enemy. Ha! Scipio! Then the character report Give's of him's false. He scorns ignoble ways Of honour; to o'ercome by treachery.
seed 43: T1 · seed 44: T2 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
But if Syphax Would heare our reasons. Crates you have beene Our worthy counsellour, and by your wisdome Stear'd government in a right course whilst yet Our youth did want it: but we are now growne Riper in judgement, and we can distinguish The different grounds of any politick act. Nor doe we finde it safe in rules of state If Seipio be not welcome. What's your hast? The Romane Generall is arriv'd, and entring. And no faygn'd thunder to informe us of it From the lowd voyce of slocking multitudes, Should throng to bid him welcome? Hee's scarce knowne To any but my selfe. His traine is private, Without due state: onely some needfull servants To wait upon his person. Were they his army, I would exhaust my treasury to feast them: And every common souldier should drinke healthes In his Corinthian Goblet, which should be His largesse likewise. Let our ministers Fill the shrill throats of warres loud instruments. And Dodonean brasse be beaten deafe Whilst it proclaimes his welcome. Let the Sea Eccho the sounds to Sagant, and returne Their shoots agen. Never did Syphax joyfull armes imbrace A guest of so rich valew, in whose minde Worlds of heroick vertues are congested To make him up a worthy. I'le not answere Your kindnesse Syphax with a complement. My tongue's not oyld with slattery. I have stolne A little time from action, to informe Numidia's King, how Rome, by my advice, Hath chosen him a favourer of her cause That suffers by false Carthage. The successe Of my recovering Spaine, hath given new hopes Vnto her fainting spirits, that were neere Their last expiring by the massacres The Carthaginian made. Sixe Consuls have Already fall'n: my Father, and mine Vncle; Sempronius; Terentius and Flaminius; And last Marcellus, who receiv'd his death Even in the sight of Rome. Yet there's a Scipio Surviv's to conquer him, or dye in th'enterprise. And that brave Scipio shall not want what ayde My person, or my Kingdome can affoord him. Rome shal make great esteem of Syphax friendship And when she shall be wrapt in silken wings Of victory and peace, his statue crown'd Shall grace the triumph. I should rather joy To see him chayn'd a captive, though my see And family were sold to be his ransome, In Carthage quarrell. This cold entertainment Doth make me jealous. See: how soone their eyes Have found each other? Sure 'tis Hanniball. His name and nature's stampt upon his brow; I in those wrinckles read it: valour mixt With cruelty; to which ambition onely As the first wheele in engines moves the rest. That eye he lost passing the fennes of Arnus; And such a looke his counterfeit is drawne with. If there be trechery. What would Hanniball? Is't Hanniball? We are betrai'd by Syphax. What art? Romes Generall, and thy enemy. Ha! Scipio! Then the character report Give's of him's false. He scornes ignoble wayes Of honour; to ore-come by trechery.