Nabbes, Thomas · published 1637 · first performed or written 1637 (Annals) masque · King's Revels Company (?) · Salisbury Court T39 Profit, conscience and dishonest dealing typicality 0.75 · 476 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T39: conscience, lucre, usury, lucar, fraud, dissimulation, simony, london, lady, nemo.
List to my charge. Conscience the judge of actions Is neither power, nor habit, but an act; To wit an application of that knowledge That shows the difference. It's Synteresis, Or purer part, is th' instigation Of will to good and honest things, and seats The mind in a rich throne of endless quiet; When being clogged with guilt of many ills, Those leaden weight express it as it mounts, And sink it into horror. Conscience stained Is like a fretting ulcer, that corrodes The part it hath infected, and though cured It leaves a scar. So heal a wounded Conscience: Repentance stays as the vestigium, Or mark impressed, by which the past disease Is found to have been. There's no punishment Like that, to bear the witness in ones breast Of perpetrated evils, when the mind Beat's it with silent stripes; guilty of blame. But being unstained it laughs at lying fame. Silence in the court, and harken to the charge: it may indoctrinate ye for justices, if there be not too much of Conscience in it. Hope is in opposition with despair; And like a zealous advocate i'th' cause Of his afflicted client, labours still To overthrow the fallacies and quirks Despair is nimble in; whilst fear with trembling Expects the trials issue. By these three men's acts informed of, scanned and canvased be, At length by Conscience censured, thy are sent To have reward, or suffer punishment. Hem. Now enter that woman. What are you? A desperate piece of neglected mortality, that have been a Lady of pleasure, and kept an open house where Lords took me up at high rates, till my bare commons would no longer serve their high feeding. And the Geese that grased on it would always be ever roasted. I thence fell to inferior customers, and doted most on the junior actors, to the danger of cracking many a voice. Nightwalking then supplied me, whilst I had any thing to pleasure a constable, or relieve the mortified watch with a snatch and away. But now I am not worth the reversion of an almsbasket: and those which heretofore would hire me to sin, do now deny me the benefit of a Spittle. I have not strength to climb and hang myself; and having been so light all my life time 'tis impossible I should be drowned. Hope yet with grief, and mend. My mending must be miraculous. Were it in art to repair this rotten carcase, and in my stock of credit with the broker enough to case it, I might hope for as golden days and coaching again. But now welcome a cart or a Shrove-tuesdays tragedy. Despair tells me there is a fire in hell, and why should I, that have conversed with heats all my life time, fear it! Stand by there. What are you?
seed 43: T41 · seed 44: T39 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
List to my charge. Conscience the judge of actions Is neither power, nor habit, but an act; To wit an application of that knowledge That shwes the difference. Its Synteresis, Or purer part, is th' instigation Of will to good and honest things, and seates The mind in a ich throne of endlesse quiet; When being clog'd with guilt of many ills, Those leaden waight expresse it as it mounts, And sink it into horrour. Conscience stain'd Is like a fretting ulcer, that corod's The part t hath infected, and though cur'd It leaves a scare. So heale a wounded Conscience: Repentance stayes as the vestigium, Or marke imprest, by which the past disease Is found to have been. There's no punishment Like that, to beare the witnesse in ones brest Of perpetrated evills, when the mind Beat's it with silent stripes; guilty of blame. But being unstain'd it laughs at lying fame. Silence in the court, and hearken to the charge: it may indoctrinate ye for Iustices, if there be not too much of Conscience in it. Hope is in opposition with despaire; And like a zealous advocate 'th' cause Of his afflicted clyent, labours still To overthrow the fallacies and quirkes Despayre is nimble in; whil'st feare with trembling Expects the trialls issue. By these three Mns acts inform'd of, scann'd and canvas'd be, At length by Conscience censur'd, thy are sent To have reward, or suffer punishment. Hem. Now enter that woman. What are you? A desperate piece of neglected mortality, that have been a Lady of pleasure, and kep an open house where Lords tooke me up at high rates, 'till my bare commons would no longer serve their high feeding. And the Geese that gras'd on it would alwayes be ever roasted. I thence fell to inferiour customers, and doated most on the junior actors, to the danger of cracking many a voyce. Night-walking then supply'd me, whil'st I had any thing to pleasure a constable, or relieve the mortified watch with a snatch and away. But now I am not worth the reversion of an almes-basket: and those which heretofore would hire me to sinne, doe now deny me the benefit of a Spittle. I have not strength to climbe and hang my selfe; and having been so light all my life time 'tis impossible I should be drown'd. Hope yet with griefe, and mend. My mending must be miraculous. Were it in art to repayre this rotten carcase, and in my stock of credit with the broker enough to case it, I might hope for as golden dayes and coaching agen. But now welcome a cart or a Shrove-tuesdayes tragedy. Despaire tells me there is a fire in hell, and why should I, that have converst with heates all my life time, feare it! Stand by there. What are you?