Nabbes, Thomas · published 1638 · first performed or written 1638 (Annals) comedy · Prince Charles's Men (second) (?); King's Revels Company (?) · Salisbury Court unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
I joy that chance made me the instrument Of such a good. Please you to follow me. I'll guide you to this pensive one, that grieves More your feared loss then her own misery. She named you oft; when (by her fit transported) Recovering from a swoon, she thought herself Surprised by some that meant her injury. Shall I give faith? my resolution's mad; Yet it shall try th'event. Despair may bring A good success to an indifferent thing. FIe Frank; there's such a disproportion, 'Twill ne'er be brought to an equality. Why George, dost think th'exterior goods of fortune, Or titular greatness that derives itself From larger springs, and slows to swell the blood With attributes of gentle, or of noble Can make the difference such, that the free soul Must have the limits of her large desires Prescribed by them? Nature's impartial: And in her work of man prefers not names Of ancestors▪ She sometimes forms a piece For admiration from the basest earth That holds a soul: and to a beggar's issue Gives those perfections make a beauty up; When purer moulds polished and glossed with titles, Honours and wealth, bestow upon their bloods Deformed impressions; objects only fit For sport or pity. Yet never can the mixture Of gold with clay make any transformation Of that base matter into purer metal. The Chemistry of Love can surely do it. Wedlock confers all honour that's a husband's Upon his wife. And therefore you will marry A milk wench; one that's drudge unto necessity. 'Twould be a credit to that long continuance Of noble matches which your ancestors Have linked to the chain of their own bloods, To make the series of their Families Spread in so many glorious divisions. Come, let my counsel guide these passive Fires To flame aright, and send their Pyramids More upwards. Let the grosser stuff that feeds them, By an inversion, choke them. From advice Men must choose wives, not passion. She is fair: Upon her person all the graces wait, And dance in rings about her. Her bright eye Is Loves chief mansion where he keeps his Court. Envy not fair ones, if my fancy doth Give all your dues to her, save only those Which your defects supply from wanton art. Her white and red she borrows not from any cosmetic drugs; nor puzzles the invention Of learned practitioners for oil of Talxe To blanch an Ethiops skin. Lilies and Roses Are figures fitting common beauties: hers Wants a comparison but its proper self. You swell her praise too high; so mean a subject fits not these raptures. she's a subject, George, For larger volumes than invention Yet ever filled with flattering hyperboles. The very thought of her hath strained my heartstrings Up to a pitch of joy; whose music makes My spleen dance lusty measures. If she be So rare a piece, her low condition Makes me suspicious she's some common wanton Lurks in that mask for safety.
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)
I joy that chance made me the instrument Of such a good. Please you to follow me. I'le guid you to this pensive one, that grieves More your fear'd losse then her owne misery. She nam'd you oft; when (by her fit transported) Recovering from a sowne, she thought her selfe Surpriz'd by some that meant her injurie. Shall I give faith? my resolution's mad; Yet it shall trye th'event. Despaire my bring A good successe to an indifferent thing. FIe Franke; there's such a disproportion, 'Twill nere be brought to an equalitie. Why George, dost think th'exterior goods of ortune, Or titular greatnesse that derives it selfe From larger springs, and slow's to swell the blood With attributes of gentle, or of noble Can make the difference such, that the free soule Must have the limits of her large desires Prescrib'd by them? Nature's impartiall: And in her worke of man preer's not names Of auncestors▪ She sometimes formes a piece For admiration from the basest earth That holds a soule: and to a Beggars issue Gives those perfections make a beauty up; When purer molds po'ish'd and g'oss'd with titles, Honours and wealth, bestow upon their bloods Deform'd impressions; objects onely fit For sport or pitty. Yet never can the mixture Of gold with clay make any transformation Of that base matter into purer metall. The Chymistry of Love can surely doe it. Wedlocke conferres all honour that's a husbands Vpon his wife. And therefore you will marry A milke wench; one that's drudge unto necessitie. 'Twould be a credit to that long continuance Of noble matches which your anncestors Have link'd to the chaine of their owne bloods▪ To make the series of their Families Spread in so many glorious divisions. Come, let my counsell guide these passive Fires To flame aright, and send their Pyramids More upwards. Let the grosser stuffe that feeds them, By an inversion, choake them. From advice Men must choose wives, not passion. She is faire: Upon her person all the graces waite, And dance in rings about her. Her bright eye Is Loves chiefe mansion where he keepes his Court. Envy not faire ones, if my fancie doth Give all your dues to her, save onely those Which your defects supply from wanton art. Her white and red she borrow's not from any Cosmetique drugs; nor puzzles the invention Of learn'd practitioners for oyle of Talxe To blanch an Ethiops skin. Lillies and Roses Are figures fitting common beauties: hers Wants a comparison but its proper selfe. You swell her praise too high; so meane a subject fits not these raptures. Shee's a subject, George, For larger volumes then invention Yet ever fill'd with flattering hyperboles. The very thought of her hath strain'd my heart-strings Vp to a pitch of joy; whose musicke makes My spleene dance lusty measures. If she be So rare a piece, her low condition Makes me suspitious shee's some common wanton Lurks in that maske for safety.