Nabbes, Thomas · published 1640 · first performed or written 1640 (Annals) not in BritDrama · Unacted T11 Siblings, kin and confidants typicality 0.84 · 501 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T11: sister, brother, love, friend, heart, father, mother, woman, lord, hear.
There's a stain Amanda Thrown on you by suspicion, on your honour; Nothing but blood, or a fair satisfaction Can wash it off. I thought some such fine thing Had mocked your credulous weakness. Blush to think You own so low a soul as to suspect Her whom your love calls sister; though detraction Spoke with a hundred tongues, and muttered circumstance To make it probable, Your confidence Carries the greater show of guilt. Of guilt! Should you present all tortures tyranny Did e'er invent: I have no fears can make me Belie mine innocence, though it might free me From all their suffering. This doth show more like The violence of a distempered passion, Than will to satisfy. 'Twas never yet Read in the story of our Ancestors, Any least blemish stuck upon our house. And if you have transgressed, the knowledge of it Will point us out a way to just revenge, Or to an honourable recompense; And so preserve our yet unsullied fames Clear to posterity. This circumvention Is of so strange and intricate a nature, I know not how to free myself, but by Mine own just testimony. Brother know Your best prepared devotions are not purer Than my worst thoughts; their ends being always noble When I have had desires. Not to have some, Indeed were more than wonder: such a Lady As you are sister, pampered with the fulness Of Court delights, not to elect some one Preferred in her esteem, were such a paradox, Not all your learning can maintain. Suppose I should confess to whom mine are directed; He's one that you dare not suspect, much less Accuse of such a sin that is so far from His virtuous inclination. I am glad Your love can give him such a Character. To know him might advance your desires, Provided they be honourable. Brother You seem to hedge me in with studied cunning. But I can give myself a liberty By naming him you'd know. I do affect Your friend Lord Spurio. He the man hath done it? Done what? your jealousy is weak, and grounded Upon too nice a fear; and only propped With her slight information. Stay, stay Sister; There's something more: Did not you once pretend You had a powerful interest in his Sister That might command me a success with her? And you interpret it. Nothing good Sister, But one thing for another. Hug your error, And cherish it until it sting your bosom: Your threats shall not enforce another answer Though the place had no privilege. Enough Good Sister; I am satisfied. Will you sir Cherish my duty with a faith? Of what? What that bad woman hath accused me of, Is false as any fabulous Deity Ascribed to wicked mortal. Nay good Lady, If any grounded fear hath raised suspicion, Truth ought to be discovered; if it were, We then would make provision of some Villa, Some pretty Country house, under pretence That air's most wholesome for you.
nodes 884–966 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 12 of 26 in this edition
Length
501 words · 621 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T11 — Siblings, kin and confidantscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.840 (cosine to the topic centroid)
Other seeds
seed 43: T15 · seed 44: T12 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
There's a staine Amanda Throwne on you by suspition, on your honour; Nothing but blood, or a faire satisfaction Can wash it off. I thought some such fine thing Had mockt your credulous weaknes. Blush to thinke You owne so low a soule as to suspect Her whom your love calls sister; though detraction Spake with a hund red tongues, and mutter'd circumstance To make it probable, Your confidence Carries the greater show of guilt. Of guilt! Should you present all tortures tyranny Did e're invent: I have no feares can make me Belie mine innocence, though it might free me From all their suffering. This doth shew more like The violence of a distemper'd passion, Than will to satisfie. 'Twas never yet Read in the story of our Ancestors, Any least blemish stuck upon our house. And if you have transgrest, the knowledge of it Will poynt us out a way to just revenge, Or to an honourable recompence; And so preserve our yet unsullyed fames Cleare to post esterity. This circumvention Is of so strange and intricate a nature, I know not how to free my selfe, but by Mine owne just testimony. Brother know Your best prepar'd devotions are not purer Then my worst thoughts; their ends being alwayes noble When I have had desires. Not to have some, Indeed were more than wonder: such a Lady As you are sister, pamper'd with the ful nesse Of Court delights, not to elect some one Prefer'd in her esteeme, were such a paradox, Not all your learning can maintaine. Suppose I should confesse to whom mine are directed; He's one that you dare not suspect, much lesse Accuse of such a sinne that is so farre from His vertuous inclination. I am glad Your love can give him such a Character. To know him might advance your desires, Provided they be honourable. Brother You seeme to hedge me in with studdied cunning. But I can give my selfe a liberty By naming him you'ld know. I doe affect Your friend Lord Spurio. He the man hath done it? Done what? your jealousie is weake, and grounded Upon too nice a feare; and onely propt With her slight information. Stay, stay Sister; There's something more: Did not you once pretend You had a powerfull interest in his Sister That might command me a successe with her? And you interpret it. Nothing good Sister, But one thing for another. Hug your errour, And cherish it untill it sting your bosome: Your threats shall not enforce another answer Though the place had no priviledge. Enough Good Sister; I am satisfi'd. Will you sir Cherish my duty with a faith? Of what? What that bad woman hath accus'd me of, Is false as any fabulous Deity Ascrib'd to wicked mortall. Nay good Lady, If any grounded feare hath rais'd suspition, Truth ought to be discover'd; if it were, We then would make provision of some Villa, Some pretty Country house, under pretence That ayr's most wholsome for you.