Nabbes, Thomas · published 1637 · first performed or written 1635 (Annals) tragedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm · 450 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
Tell thy Philosophers The earth hath not a centre; that the day Is not illumined by the Sun; that fire Is colder than the ever-frozen rocks That bear the North-end of th'earth's axle-tree: When they allow these paradoxes, I Will credit Scipio. Work on thou brave minister Of my last victory over myself. Quench thy unnatural flames with my scorched bowels. Now thou hast met a heat, which joined to thine Makes all the frame like the bright forge, whence Jove Hath his artillery. My heart, my heart; Quench it Eridanus: but it would dry Thy waters up. I'm wrapped in greater fires Than the rash boy thou chok'st. Would this were Oeta; That like the furious Theban I might build Mine own pile, and the flame as it ascends Transform itself into a constellation; Or fix i'th' upper region of the air Like a perpetual comet to fright Rome With his prodigious light. methinks an earthquake Totters the aged fabric that so long Hath borne me on't, and the divided poles Embrace to kiss each other. An inversion Of nature's order shall attend the fate Of dying Hannibal. So Okes eradicated By a prodigious whirlwind, tear the earth Through which their large roots spread themselves. No less than the whole world to be my grave. He's dead: with him my glory. Scipio's acts (I'll have Have not another object worthy them, Or his attempts. Fame break thy trumpet now; Deaf thy wide ears, and silence all thy tongues Since he's dead, who with his actions wont To imp new feathers to thy broken wings, And make thee fly a pitch above the reach Of common eyes. Lest that my honour suffer In the suspicion of betraying him, I will provide a lasting monument, And fix his statue on't. You Massanissa I'll see established in your Kingdom. Carthage Thy base ingratitude to him, whose merit But justly challenged all that thou couldst own Shall teach me a prevention. Solitude Is the soul's best companion. At Linturnum My Country Villa I will terminate My after life free from men's flatteries, And fear of their lean envy. He that suffers Prosperity to swell him 'bove a mean, Like those impressions in the air, that rise From dunghill vapours, scattered by the wind, Leaves nothing but an empty fame behind. Our strife is ended: yet in ones I spy Peace smile, and war frown in another's eye. Being victorious I must not submit To a dislike. Rather to him that writ Our story, gratefully I would allow One leaf of Laurel torn from mine own brow. And with their fair opinion of it these May make it a full Garland if they please.
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)
Tell thy Philosophers The earth hath not a center; that the day Is not illumin'd by the Sunne; that fire Is colder than the ever-frozen rocks That beare the North-end of th'earths Axeltree: When they allow these paradoxes, I Will credit Scipio. Worke on thou brave minister Of my last victory over my selfe. Quench thy unnaturall flames with my scortcht bowels. Now thou hast met a heat, which joyn'd to thine Makes all the frame like the bright forge, whence Jove Hath his artillery. My heatt, my heart; Quench it Eridanus: but it would dry Thy waters up. I'm wrapt in greater fires Then the rash boy thou choak'st. Would this were Oeta; That like the furious Thebane I might build Mine owne pile, and the flame as it ascends Transforme it selfe into a constellation; Or fixe ith' upper region of the ay re Like a perpetuall comet to fright Rome With his prodigious light. Me thinkes an earthquake Totters the aged fabrick that so long Hath borne me on't, and the divided poles Embrace to kisse each other. An inversion Of natures order shall attend the fate Of dying Hannibal. So Okes eradicated By a prodigious whirlwind, teare the earth Through which their large rootes spread themselves. No lesse then the whole world to be my grave. He's dead: with him my glory. Scipio's acts (Ile have Havenot another object worthy them, Or his attempts. Fame breake thy trumpet now; Deafe thy wide eares, and silence all thy tongues Since he's dead, who with his actions wont To ympe new feathers to thy broken wings, And make thee sligh a pitch above the reach Of common eyes. Left that my honour suffer In the suspition of betraying him, I will provide a lasting monument, And fixe his statue on't. You Massanissa Ile see establisht in your Kingdome. Carthage Thy base ingratitude to him, whose merit But justly challeng'd all that thou could'st owne Shall teach me a prevention. Solitude Is the souies best companion. At Linturnum My Country Villa I will terminate My after life free from mens flatteries, And feare of their leane envie. He that suffers Prosperity to swell him 'bove a meane, Like those impressions in the ayre, that rise From dunghill vapours, scatter'd by the wind, Leaves nothing but an empty fame behind. Our strife is ended: yet in ones I spy Peace smile, and warre frowne in anothers eye. Being victorious I must not submit To a dislike. Rather to him that writ Our story, gratefully I would allow One leafe of Lawrell torne from mine owne brow. And with their faire opinion of it these May make it a full Garland if they please.