Nabbes, Thomas · published 1640 · first performed or written 1640 (Annals) not in BritDrama · Unacted T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.81 · 512 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
She is your sister; And 'twould be some additions to your honours (Though they are many which your merits challenge) To see your sister graced with the high Title Of our great Duchess. 'T would be disadvantage To all that's good within me: For although No policy preserves my Actions Free from suspicion, but their own integrity, And that hath showed them clear without abuse Of favour or of power; yet if I were The brother of the Duchess, I should hardly Scape envy, where I now have love. Brave spirit. Thy virtue moves me. How his father frowns? He's moved another way. If you esteem it A virtue in me to suppress desires That bear me higher than the moderate pitch, Cherish it still, and do not with addition Of favours make me lose th'opinion Of being good in my prosperities: Such flatteries may tempt me to aspire; My flight holds even yet. My dearest Spurio, How thou appear'st in this humility! Nor do I think it any counterfeit To whet my yet cold appetite. Her form, Though it be full of active fire, enough To move the dullest earth, wherein a soul Hath made its habitation, I not dote on: Nor will it prejudice your worth Metissa, In that your Prince refuseth you: Affection Must not guide us, but counsel. You have done A justice unto me and your own honour: I shall be happy when my Virgin freedom May make an equal choice. That choice shall want No honour we can give it. And dear Madam yourself have youth enough and beauty yet T'admit a second fellowship: Elect Even where you please, our duty shall allow it: Virtue and judgement guide you. I am happy in my unhappiness, that time hath left me A husband still; thy Father's memory Preserved in thee my Son: I know no widowhood Whilst wedded unto that. Yet if hereafter You would at any time confer such honour, Let it be Lord Corvinos. Ha! my father! named he not him Fidelio? To myself You show me my defects, by the fair light Of your too gracious and too great opinion; All the desert that I can have, must be Of your creating. These events shall be Referred to time and providence Son Spurio. Now will he school his Son for being honest. 'Tis an ambitious Lord, yet strives to hide it With politic hypocrisy. Your Childhood Grew up to riper years in such obedience, As promised duty to me; how you should Decline that goodness from the hopes conceived Strikes me with wonder. Sure you were instructed, And taught to know men by the study of Their difference; and in what one may excel Another's being: Greatness is no vice That you should shun it, and your sister's honours Would neither have impaired yours, nor mine: 'Tis not so dangerous caring to preserve Abundance, as to labour with necessity; And though it might be real temperance in you To shun so great additions, yet it showed Little obedience that you contradicted What I proposed.
seed 43: T0 · seed 44: T0 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
She is your sister; And 'twould be some additions to your honours (Though they are many which your merits challenge) To see your sister grac't with the high Title Of our great Dutchesse. 'T would be disadvantage To all that's good within me: For although No policy preserves my Actions Free from suspicion, but their owne integrity, And that hath shew'd them cleare without abuse Of favour or of power; yet if I were The brother of the Dutchesse, I should hardly Scape envy, where I now have love. Brave spirit. Thy vertue moves me. How his father frownes? He's mov'd another way. If you esteeme it A vertue in me to suppresse desires That beare me higher than the moderate pitch, Cherish it still, and doe not with addition Of favours make me lose th'opinion Of being good in my prosperities: Such flatteries may tempt me to aspire; My flight holds even yet. My dearest Spurio, How thou appear'st in this humility! Nor doe I think it any counterfeit To whet my yet cold appetite. Her forme, Though it be full of active fire, enough To move the dullest earth, wherein a soule Hath made its habitation, I not doate on: Nor will it prejudice your worth Metissa, In that your Prince refuseth you: Affection Must not guide us, but counsaile. You have done A justice unto me and your owne honour: I shall be happy when my Virgin freedome May make an equall choise. That choise shall want No honour we can give it. And deare Madam Your selfe have youth enough and beauty yet T'admit a second fellowship: Elect Even where you please, our duty shall allow it: Vertue and judgement guide you. I am happy in my unhappinesse, that time hath left me A husband still; thy Fathers memory Preserv'd in thee my Son: I know no widow-hood Whilst wedded unto that. Yet if hereafter You would at any time conferre such honour, Let it be Lord Corvinos. Ha! my father! Nam'd he not him Fidelio? To my selfe You shew me my defects, by the faire light Of your too gracious and too great opinion; All the desert that I can have, must be Of your creating. These events shall be Referr'd to time and providence Sonne Spurio. Now will he schoole his Son for being honest. 'Tis an ambitious Lord, yet strives to hide it With politique hypocrisie. Your Child-hood Grew up to riper yeares in such obedience, As promis'd duty to me; how you should Decline that goodnesse from the hopes conceiv'd Strikes me with wonder. Sure you were instructed, And taught to know men by the study of Their difference; and in what one may excell Anothers being: Greatnesse is no vice That you should shun it, and your Sisters honours Would neither have impair'd yours, nor mine: 'Tis not so dangerous caring to preserve Aboundance, as to labour with necessity; And though it might be reall temperance in you To shun so great additions, yet it shew'd Little obedience that you contradicted What I propos'd.