Nabbes, Thomas · published 1637 · first performed or written 1635 (Annals) tragedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T48 Addressing a lady: love, desire and inti · 466 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T48: lady, love, heart, fair, eyes, la, lord, tears, fie, face.
'Tis not manly To insult over misery, to which thyself's as subject, and perhaps may'st feel, Chance makes prosperity when 'tis at highest But pastime to delight her giddy humour: And will deject the most seem possessor, When she commands a restitution Of her lent favours, that she may confer them Upon another. This consideration Might invite mercy. When superior justice makes us her instrument, should we be partial I th'execution, 'twere to mock the power, And call down vengeance. Yet I grieve for Syphax That he deserves the punishment; whose weakness! Suffered a piece of painted earth to tempt him From his religion, and neglect the gods, Whom he invoked for witness to that vow A woman made him violate. 'Tis my hope She may deceive thee too, and with her charms Bewitch the boasting Conqueror that's her slave From's faith to Rome. His madness will betray me To a reproach It takes from mine own suffering To see mine enemy in the same danger: When he by his adulterous embraces Receives the like infection int' his soul That made me sick of virtue, and of all But my disease. Do you enjoy the Lady? Yes: she's my wife. Yoar act was somewhat rash; Before her husband's death! Doth the religion You pay Numidia's gods warrant it law full? Syphax is dead in his captivity. His life was mine; which I but lent him only For Rome's great triumph. we'll consult a little, And then dispose you Syphax. As your will Adviseth you. It is the curse of greatness To be its own destruction. So we see That mountain Cedars have the least defence 'gainst storms, when shrubs confront their violence. When first you freely did commit yourself Unto my charge, and promised with a vow My liking only should dispose your actions, Either you loved them, or your flattery Pretended admiration of some virtues You thought possessed me. One I must confess I glory to be master of, that's continence. I have conversed with beauties rich as Nature Did ever make art proud to counterfeit; Might have commanded some that conquest gave me: Yet have I still kept out desire, but you Have yielded to that passion doth betray A weakness in you, will obscure the glory Of all your other goodness. Think how dangerous 'Tis to a young man (on whose expectation Opinions eye is fix't) to mix his actions With wanton pleasures, when his thoughts transfer The wicked objects of his humorous sense Unto his soul, that poison all her faculties, And make them useless. Noble Massanissa, Your good deeds sung by fame are music to me: Your errors I had rather you yourself Would silently consider, and reform, Before with any show of least unkindness You force me to reprove them.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
'Tis not manly To insult over misery, to which Thy self's as subject, and perhaps mai'st feele, Chance mak's prosperity when 'tis at highest But pastime to delight her giddy humour: And will d ject the most seeme possessour, When she command's a restitution Of her lent favours, that she may conferre them Vpon another. This consideration Might invite mercy. When superiour justice Mak's us her instrument, should we be partiall I th'execution, 'twere to mock the power, And call downe vengeance. Yet I grieve for Syphax That he deserv's the punishment; whose weaknesse! Suffer'd a peece of painted earth to tempt him From his religion, and neglect the gods, Whom he invok't for witnesse to that vow A woman made him violate. 'Tis my hope Shee may deceive thee too, and with her charmes Bewitch the boasting Conquerour that's her slave From's faith to Rome. His madnesse will betray me To a reproach It tak's from mine owne suffering To see mine enemy in the same danger: When he by his adulterous embraces Receiv's the like infection int' his soule That made me sick of vertue, and of all But my disease. Doe you enjoy the Lady? Yes: she's my wife. Yoar act was somewhat rash; Before her husbands death! Doth the religion You pay Numidia's gods warrant it law full? Syphax is dead in his captivity. Hislife was mine; which I but lent him only For Romes great triumph. Wee'l consult a little, And then dispose you Syphax. As your will Adviseth you. It is the curse of greatnesse To be it's owne destruction. So we see That mountaine Cedars have the least defence Gainst stormes, when shrubs confront their violence. When first you freely did commit your selfe Vnto my charge, and promis'd with a vow My liking only should dispose your actions, Either you lov'd them, or your slattery Pretended admiration of some vertues You thought possest me. One I must confesse I glory to be master of, that's continence. I have converst with beauties rich as Nature Did ever make art proud to counterfeit; Might have commanded some that conquest gave me: Yet have I still kept out desire, but you Have yeelded to that passion doth betray A weakenesse in you, will obscure the glory Of all your other goodnesse. Thinke how dangerous 'Tis to a yong man (on whose expectation Opinions eye is six't) to mixe his actions With wanton pleasures, when his thoughts transferre The wicked objects of his humorous sense Vnto his soule, that poison all her faculties, And make them uselesse. Noble Massanissa, Your good deeds sung by same are musicke to me: Your errours I had rather you your selfe Would silently consider, and reforme, Before with any shew of least unkindnesse You force me to reprove them.