Nabbes, Thomas · published 1640 · first performed or written 1640 (Annals) not in BritDrama · Unacted T11 Siblings, kin and confidants typicality 0.73 · 484 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T11: sister, brother, love, friend, heart, father, mother, woman, lord, hear.
The remembrance Of that calls up more grief. Your mother sir. The inconsiderate youths interpreted Her favours to be love, and rivalling Each other in desire, their passions met By fury, joined together, and begot This sad effect: which when she understood, And saw the dire events that had proceeded From her so clear intentions through mistaking, Compassion broke her heart. This sir is all My sad soul knows. I would it ne'er had been, Or I to know it. Shortly I shall pay Nature her last debt, for my weakened age Cannot resist these killing sorrows long. And my poor services desire your grief Not to be deaf to one request; that is, You'd take my daughter to your care, and be A father to her: or— We will respect her. My information sir was truth. There is More mystery to be unfolded yet; Times daughter will appear, although she blush To show her nakedness. Oh a Confessor. Confess who 'twas that ordered this vile practice, Or my just anger shall allay itself With that infected blood thou hast, before The poison works more. It was Lord Corvino. What's that? She would have given poison to me, Of which herself had ta'en before: but providence Ordered it that my jealousy deferred it, Till it appeared to work on her with violence: And so I was preserved. But I am peppered; There's something in my conscience. Utter it, 'Twill make thy peace with heaven; what is't Cardente? Spurio, and Notho were your natural brothers, Got by your father, on your mother sir. In his first Duchess days she being barren. I and Corvino had the secret carriage Of all the business. He hath poisoned me. I never shall love Philters more. Corvino, Here's a discovery renders you so vile, That new suspicions spring from't: Neither can we Trust our own safety where a murderer Sits near our favour. Tortures therefore shall Force from you what they can. Your Justice might Be tempered with more mercy, and from reason. Since the great secret is revealed which I Kept guarded with my best resolves, as being The Closet of your mother's honour, now I will stand up and Justify my actions. First for the death of your unlawful brothers 'twas accidental, not by me determined. And hath secured your state that might have suffered A great disturbance by the knowledge of it: Which by your Mothers and Cardentes' death Had found prevention being then restrained Only to me. For you Fidelio, You intercepted all my studied means Unto my daughter's honour. But intents Proceeding not to act may challenge pardon. What tortures then do I deserve? Just death. That sentence kills me too. Melissa! Take him away; provide for's execution. This day I'll see it done; 'twill set more fairly. Lust and ambition are two means of evils, That practised by their owners make them devils.
nodes 1997–2072 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 26 of 26 in this edition
Length
484 words · 622 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T11 — Siblings, kin and confidantscross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.733 (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)
The remembrance Of that calls up more griefe. Your mother sir. The inconsiderate youths interpreted Her favours to be love, and rivalling Each other in desire, their passions met By fury, joyn'd together, and begot This sad effect: which when she understood, And saw the dire events that had proceeded From her so cleere intentions through mistaking, Compassion broke her heart. This sir is all My sad soule knowes. I would it ne're had bin, Or I to know it. Shortly I shall pay Nature her last debt, for my weakened age Cannot resist these killing sorrowes long. And my poore services desire your griefe Not to be deafe to one request; that is, You'ld take my daughter to your care, and be A father to her: or— We will respect her. My information sir was truth. There is More mistery to be unfoulded yet; Times daughter will appeare, although she blush To shew her nakednesse. Oh a Confessor. Confesse who 'twas that order'd this vile practise, Or my just anger shall allay it selfe With that infected blood thou hast, before The poyson workes more. It was Lord Corvino. What's that? She would have given poison to me, Of which her selfe had tane before: but providence Order'd it that my jealousie deferr'd it, 'Till it appear'd to worke on her with violence: And so I was preserv'd. But I am pepper'd; There's something in my conscience. Utter it, 'Twill make thy peace with heaven; what is't Cardente? Spurio, and Notho were your naturall brothers, Got by your father, on your mother sir. In his first Dutchesse dayes she being barren. I and Corvino had the secret carriage Of all the businesse. He hath poison'd me. I never shall love Philters more. Corvino, Here's a discovery renders you so vile, That new suspitions spring from't: Neither can we Trust our owne safety where a murderer Sits neere our favour. Tortures therefore shall Force from you what they can. Your Justice might Be temper'd with more mercy, and from reason. Since the great secret is reveal'd which I Kept guarded with my best resolves, as being The Closet of your mothers honour, now I will stand up and Justifie my actions. First for the death of your unlawfull brothers Twas accidentall, not by me determin'd. And hath secur'd your state that might have suffer'd A great disturbance by the knowledge of it: Which by your Mothers and Cardentes death Had found prevention being then restrain'd Onely to me. For you Fidelio, You intercepted all my studied meanes Vnto my daughters honour. But intents Proceeding not to act may challenge pardon. What tortures then doe I deserve? Just death. That sentence kills me too. Melissa! Take him away; provide for's execution. This day Ile see it done; 'twill set more fairely. Lust and ambition are two meanes of evils, That practis'd by their owners make them divells.