Nabbes, Thomas · published 1640 · first performed or written 1640 (Annals) not in BritDrama · Beeston's Boys · Phoenix/Cockpit unassigned nearest T6 Money, debt and credit · 524 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T6: money, master, pound, law, lawyer, chain, gentleman, gold, pay, pray.
Be gone, for fear you urge me To more impatience: Yet my charity Affords ye this good counsel. The world's full Of brave employments for men capable. Youhave persons, but want minds for actions That might ennoble ye. Honour attends On war; ye only call yourselves by names Of Captains and Lieutenants here where peace Is most secure, but when your drunken quarrels Disturb her. Go to th'wars, and save the City The chargeable repairing of their prisons. we'll think upon your satire. Take the scabbard too. My belt I'll pawn for a scarf to hang my arm in, that the not wearing of a sword may have pretence; till whose recovery I am degraded from a Blade to a Battoon. How lovely shows this valour? That in men There should be so much difference. Why so sad Coz? What think you on? I was contriving mischief. Mischief! 'gainst whom? I shall betray myself. A merry harmless mischief; whose relation Shall make the Ice of melancholic spleens Dissolve with laughter. 'Tis a pretty plot Upon those roarers. Pray impart it then. There is a passage in't unperfect yet How apt is guilt to be its own discoverer? I almost had spoiled all. I do begin weighing the circumstance To be possessed With a suspect of his sincerity. he's surely treacherous; and perhaps occasioned The late attempt upon me, so to have Removed the bar he fears might shut him out From an inheritance I never coveted. I must not be too credulous. What's the reason You are so cloudy Cosin? In your eyes methinks I read sad thoughts; your merry mischief Promised more lightsomness. I cannot yet Fancy a good conclusion; it hath passages That would beget a neat one. Are you Cosin Resolved on your return? or will you practise As I advised? Doth that concern your plot? I mind no plots; my mind is only busy To make you safe. Safe! which way mean you Cosin? Pray wrest it not. Suppose those baffled roarers Should in revenge waylay you: they are mischievous; And if you should miscarry— No great matter: There were an end of misery. You need not Be much solicitous to prevent my danger; Since on my death depends the assurance Of an estate to you. When you enjoy it, If my cold ashes might be capable Of such expressions, they should dance for joy Fortune had so rewarded you, that merit Above her flattery: which she but practised When I was interposed by greater accident Than ever yet made learned error give her The profane attributes of a deity. He surely doth suspect me. Had I fallen (As ten to one I might, had not the cause Given me the greater odds.) Had you contrived it— How's that! your jealousy is an unkindness My love deserves not. I hope you are not guilty, That catch th' uncertain meaning of my words ere they are perfected; and preinterpret Thoughts that had never being! I may then Justly have doubts. For innocence unmoved At a false accusation, doth the more Confirm itself; and guilt is best discovered By its own fears.
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)
Be gone, for feare you urge me To more impatience: Yet my charity Affords ye this good counsayle. The world's full Of brave imploiments for men capable. Y'have persons, but want mindes for actions That might ennoble ye. Honor attends On warre; ye only call your selves by names Of Captaines and Lieftenants here where peace Is most secure, but when your drunken quarrells Disturb her. Go to th'warres, and save the Citty The chargeable reparing of their prisons. Wee'l think upon your satire. Take the scabbard too. My belt I'le pawn or a scarfe to hang my arme in, that the not wearing of a sword may have pretence; 'till whose recovery I am degraded from a Blade to a Battoone. How lovely showes this valour? That in men There should be so much difference. Why so sad Coz? What think you on? I was contriving mischiefe. Mischiefe! 'gainst whom? I shall betray my selfe. A merry harmlesse mischiefe; whose relation Shall make the Ice of melancholick spleenes Dissolve with laughter. 'Tis a prety plot Upon those roarers. Pray' impart it then. There is a passage in't unperfect yet How apt is guilt to be its own discoverer? I almost had spoil'd all. I do begin weighing the circumstance To be possest With a suspect of his sincerity. Hee's surely trecherous; and perhaps occasion'd The late attempt upon me, so to have Remov'd the bar he feares might shut him out From an inheritance I never coveted. I must not be too credulous. What's the reason You are so clowdy Cosin? In your eyes Me thinks I read sad thoughts; your merry mischiefe Promis'd more lightsomnesse. I cannot yet Fancy a good conclusion; it hath passages That would be get a neate one. Are you Cosin Resolv'd on your returne? or will you practise As I advis'd? Doth that concerne your plot? I mind no plots; my mind is onely busie To make you safe. Safe! which way meane you Cosin? Pray' wrest it not. Suppose those baffled roarers Should in revenge way-lay you: they are mischievous; And if you should miscarry— No great matter: There were an end of misery. You need not Be much sollicitous to prevent my danger; Since on my death depends the assurance Of an estate to you. When you enjoy it, If my cold ashes might be capable Of such expressions, they should dance for joy Fortune had so rewarded you, that merrit Above her flatter: which she but practis'd When I was interpos'd by greatr accident Then ever yet made learned error give her The prophane attributes of a deity. He surely doth suspect me. Had I faln (As ten to one I might, had not the cause Given me the greater ods.) Had you contriv'd it— How's that! your jelousy is an unkindnesse My love deserves not. I hope you are not guilty, That catch th' uncertain meaning of my words E're they are perfected; and preinterpret Thoughts that had never being! I may then Justly have doubts. For innocence unmov'd At a false accusation, doth the more Confirme it selfe; and guilt is best discover'd By its own feares.