The History of Joseph - A Poem
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Logan West
(with David Jonescue and Alex Sarrouf)
www.puritansearch.org
THE HISTORY OF JOSEPH. A POEM
Written by DANIEL CUDMORE, Gent.
Say not, my hand this work to end hath brought,
Nor this my virtue hath attained to:
Say rather thus, this God by me hath wrought;
God's th' Author of the little good I do.
Du Bart. in Quadrians of Pabr.
LONDON, Printed by T. Warren for the use of the Author, 1652.
To his much respected Uncle Mr. ZACHARY CUDMORE all health and happiness.
SIR,
PRomises are due debt; you were pleased not long since, so far to encourage my endeavors as to claim this Poem; which I (having nothing which I might truly arrogate to myself, but you might justly challenge yours, as purchased by your favors) thankfully promised; and now at length, like Pharaohs Butler, on the consideration of your manifold Curtesies, being checked to a remembrance of my promise, humbly tender, and with it (like the poor Spaniard, who when a Father of the Inquisition desired but the Fruit, presented him the Tree) present myself; accept this with the like candour of mind, as I devote it with it really, and I shall esteem my hopes anchor'd in a happy Bay. If any upbraid me, being a Poet, with the fatal name of a beggar, I answer with the sweet Singer of Israel Adhuc & vilior fiam, so I may but herein do God the least service, and so render myself gracious to your acceptance; nor doubt I but time may so midwife it, that hereafter I may tender something which may (if not redeem some of my engagements) yet induce your courtesy to forbear the debts wherein stands obliged
Your observant Nephew, DAN. CUD.
To the Reader.
Courteous Reader,
I Here present thee with the History of Joseph, which as I could seldom pass over without tears, so I could not but digest them into matter through the Lymbeck of my Quill, though into such a form as my mose easy Genius lead me; 'tis a subject, I confess, which seems to claim both a more elaborate Brain, and a more accurate Pen than mine, yet shall I neither esteem my labor lost, nor my time ill-bestowed, if I may herein prove but the Foyl of those who have writ more gravely on the same matter, that in my weakness may the more clearly appear their worth. If thou object, that in the p • ssage between Joseph and his wanton Mistress, I have rendered myself. Pathick than Pathetick, I may answer first, that I have described her Passion in as grave a Wantonnest as the tenor of her broad expressions would permit; Secondly, for the frequency of it, the Text tells me that it was her daily practice; Thirdly, I have an example from Solomon himself, who, (doubtless guided by God's Spirit) sets forth a Harlot thus in her courteous vanities; In the last place, I hope His modest answers which struck, for the present, the impatient opponent dumb, will take off a judicious censure from reply. What I here present thee, is mine own, what thou hast here is no Crambes bis cocta, no Page, furtivis ornata coloribus, nor can my fancy upbraid my Pen, as 'tis to be feared, God will one day our new compounded fashions, Hoc non est opus meum, imago mea.
Farewell.
The history of Joseph,
The
Proem.
I Sing of
Joseph's
fate, our
Savior's type,
Then
heaven
be
auspicious
to my
pipe;
What though my
fancy's dull,
my
style's unfil'd,
My
Pia-mater
be an infant-child,
This be a task for
Angels,
each whose page
(If fully peraphras'd,) would crave an age?
Each
Angel
is my
muse, Zion
the
hill
Whose
sacred raptures
shall
intrance
my
quill;
And if divine
Apollo
tune my
harp,
Let
Zoilus
censure, and let
Momus
carp.
Then, where the
Dove-like Spirit
daignes us matter,
Let
Owls
forbear to
screech,
and
Pies
to
chatter.
Here is a
story,
each whose circumstance
Is to b'ascribed to
providence
not
chance,
Compar'd to this all
human eloquence
Doth scarce deserve the
bounteous name of sense.
Here is a story, whose
sublime invention
So far transcends man's
reach,
and weak
dimension,
A story here, whose
fancy's towering hight
Doth soar so high beyond our
dull conceit
All wits should here their
conquered lawrels
bring,
Their
Helicons
are
puddles
to this
spring.
Then
sacred Three in One,
who in this story
Didst from man's wickedness procure thee glory,
O let my
weakness tuned in slender lays
Advance
thy honor, and
promote
thy praise;
Then I will invoke no
Heliconian dame,
If thou but
rarify the smoky flame
That actuates my fancy,
and but drain
From 'its polluted dregs my youthful brain.
My pen thus dipt in the true
Thespian stream,
Thus do I prosecute my sacred theam.
THE heavenly register of sacred truth
Records old
Jacob's
age, blest with a youth
Joseph
by name; whose virtue from the rest
Had won the chiefest room in
Jacob's
breast.
Th' equal proportion of both face, and limb
(Requir'd in outward beauty) was in him,
So here, was that more noble
Symnetry
A heavenly heart, the rarer
harmony:
For though no
Architect
will ever choose
The
stately marble
but to
noble
use,
And in a palace what a stately, guest
Is entertained, may by the pomp be
ghost,
Beauty's oft Bawd to vice,
a heavenly fiend,
Sin oft abounds where beauty doth transcend;
Whose
Angels image,
as it oft appears,
The superscription of the Devil
bears.
Our
Joseph's
lovely visage some that viewd
Thought
Adams
native beauty here renewd;
His spotless innocence by others was
Compar'd to
Adam
in his state of grace;
For he must most be void of all offense
Who was the perfect'st
type
of
innocence.
God who in mercy did to
Abraham
swear
That he should vie a child with every star,
Here of his promise as the
Interest
Fixt
Joseph
as a star to guide the rest.
Fixt star?
nay rather
planet,
since his fate
Was to be exiled by his Brethren's hate.
Time now had writ old age on
Jacob's
skull,
And long since changed his down to rougher wool,
When faint disease did on his members creep
He
to his sons resigned his charge of sheep;
Joseph
was always at his fathers beck,
Each frown, a wound did seem, a death each check,
And who but wondering saw that he should bring
So full an harvest in his youthful spring?
Which much in
Jacob's
thoughts did him promote,
Who clad him in a
parti-color'd coat;
His Brethren see'ng their
Father
so inclined
At his indulgence proudly thus repin'd.
He's
Jacob's seed elixard,
we the dregs,
Base chicken we, born of unhappy eggs,
Quoth one, we to no other end are born
But towear out wool or to consume the corn,
Joseph
the white hens chick,
he, Fortunes minion;
His childish face hath purchased this opinion,
Yet is no more like to my lad (God knows)
Than is you
cowslip
to a
verdant rose,
A
Kid
toa
Lamb,
my
Ewe
to yonder Goat,
Yet he's invested in a gaudy coat.
Now since disease, which still attends on age,
Confin'd had
Jacob
to an Hermitage,
And
he
whose discipline was wont to awe
His sons, and give unto their deeds a law,
The
Sunshine
of whose presence would disperse
Such vapors, vice could here have no commerce,
Declining was, no wonder there appears
If pitchie vapors now did blot the spheres,
Which
Joseph
knew, when he in humble sort
Unto his father brought their ill report,
Yet not in base revenge, and ranc'rous spleen,
As is in some maligning Brethren seen,
Who strive to raise the
Trophies
of their name,
And
Triumph,
on the
Tombes
of others shame,
Or some, as if their envy were so nice
To wound the Person, and to spare the Vice:
But
Joseph's
heart with Zealous sorrow bleeds
While to his father he rehea
•
st their deeds.
Nay, further thus, he did exasperate
His Brethren's spleen, and moved their sweiling hate;
Quoth he
Dear Brethren, not a foggy stream
From a distempered liver, no vain theam,
Ingrost my fancy, when thus (by your leaves)
I dreampt, you and myself were binding sheaves,
My sheaf (me thought) rose up; all your's, in sign
Of duty, did obeisance unto mine.
His Brethren start and check him, how so plain?
And must thou thus become our King, and reign?
True; in your robes your
Majesty's
impall'd,
Oh how we long to see your
grace
install'd?
A scepter for him, no, thou saucy swain,
A
Rod
to whip thee to thy wits again.
Nay further, harmless
Joseph
did incur
Their hate, which needed not a second spur;
Brethren quoth he, No aim to disinherit
You of your Birth-right; 'tis no private Spirit;
My head like th' highest region of the air
From all such Meteors is pure and fair,
I dreamed the Sun and Mo
••
did with a troop
Of'leaven stars, unto me humbly stoop.
No sooner spoke, but all his
Brethren
rouz,
One stamps and fumes, another frowns and vows,
Must Father, Mother, and we all eleven
Submit to thee!
how long since camest from heaven?
When is your
Majesty's inauguration,
King
of your
country, Father of your nation?
These
Temples
are too stately to be bound
With rosie
Chaplets,
no, they must be crowned;
These arms of late too massy grown to weigh
The worthless sheephook, must a scepter sway.
Joseph
takes all with an unfurrow'd brow,
And mildly crowcheth with a lowly bow,
Anon unto his Father tells again
The heavenly dreams of his inspired brain;
Who though his son was yet in years but green,
It fills him more with wonder than with spleen;
Quoth he
Thine
and thy Brothers purity
Spark like a constellation in my sky;
In whom Vice never could get a patronage,
Free from the sins that do ingross this age,
But that I with the rest shall prostitute
Submissively to thee I yet dispute;
This in the Brethren had ill blood begotten,
Which by hot rage was soon to rancor rotten,
And yet no opportunity had been,
That they might vomit their impostum'd spleen.
Time was when youthful
Joseph
's Brethren fed
Their fleecy charge on
Shechems
flow'ry bed,
Anon-their wanton Lambkins further rov'd,
And they with them to
Dothan
next removed,
When
Jacob
calling
Joseph
to his tent
With such like words
him
to his Brethren sent;
Run, and make hast again, my darling son,
On whose life's thread,
that,
of my life is spun;
I through whose Organs breath my life, and whose
Eys if long absent,
mine
would quickly close;
These apples in thy cheek, my pretty page,
Are th' only food that do sustain my age;
Thou knowest in
Shechem
now thy Brethren are,
Run, and bring how they and their flocks do fare.
Obedience, wing'd with loyalty now posts
With nimble speed to
Shechems
past'rall coasts,
And finding not his Brethren there, he wanders
In crooked by-paths, mazes and Meanders,
Thus roved he perplexed, till found by one,
Who told him they to
Dothan
late were gone;
Thither he bends, and might anon behold
His Brethren, and their flocks, as late was told.
One of his Brethren seeing him, in hast
Cries yonder cometh our
Enthusiast,
All with consent give'd way to headstrong fury,
Sans the convention of the sacred Jury
Of reason love and faith,
Joseph
must die,
Grim death shall cast him in a
Lethargy.
Then when he wakes let him with dreams out-brave
Our thoughts, thus slain let's cast him in some Cave.
This said thus starts up
Reuben,
Heaven forbid
We should be guilty all of fratricide,
Forbear, the milder Citizens of th' wood
Upon each tree will carve this theam of blood,
Forbear, the Fish will lose their being mute,
Each Bird 'gainst murder quaintly will dispute;
Forbear, our Lambs with bleating Oratory
When they come home will tell of
Josephs
story,
Our Heards miscarry, and each pregnant Ew
Enix abortive Lamb-kins at the view;
Forbear, the raging winds will burst their lungs
And in articulate tones pronounce his wrongs.
O be not taught by self-experience,
Consider
Cain's
just curse for this offense;
And since God is the same, can we expect
But like proceedings should have like effect?
Yet if your charity cannot forgive,
Then let humanity grant that he live;
Into the pit let's cast the silly Swain,
So spoke, that he might set him free again.
This said, our nimble youth with active pace
Where they consulted had attained the place;
All rush on him God save our Sovereign sheaf,
Nay prithee speak not, resolution's deaf;
Do'st blush? we'l empty all these veins of blood
As clean as is thy soul from grace and good;
This is the coat, this that Majestick suit,
To which we all must humbly prostitute,
A coat of Sack-cloth for to expiate
Thy sin, and to appease deserved hate,
Far better would become thee, thou shalt die,
Pale death shall clothe thee in her livery;
What, not a word unless you wear a Crown?
Pray knit your brows, we'l tremble at your frown;
I prithee weep; I prithee sigh, my Boy,
That we may dance, that we may sing for joy;
Let's place him on yon-hillock, for a throne,
Then to his Majesty we'll all fall prove;
Come, come, strip off this coat, and next prepare
For to uncloath thy soul; why dost thou stare?
Rapt in some strange
Enthusiasm
we know;
Death, quoth another, shall intrance him now.
At this our youth grew pale, his blood retreats,
And to his heart a fierce alarm beats,
Knees bended, hands expans'd, erected eye,
All silent Rhet'rick of humility,
Got naught but this, We will without remorse,
Of soul and body make a quick divorce,
Like poor
Absyrtus
by his Sister slain,
Or wretched
Itis
so he begged in vain;
Quoth he, I do not use this bootless strife,
For to obtain that worthless name of life,
I fear not death; yet Brethren, pity take
If not for mine, yet for my Fathers sake;
Since there's a God, to Heaven I appeal,
If I you hate, may not the stones conceal
But give me strait the lie, my soul is white,
Black guilt on her never could such trespass write;
If that it could then I would never grudge,
Nay should myself-condemn were I my Judge;
Had I deserved death I'd yield to die,
Justice should swill until my veins were dry.
Oh how his pity-pleading eyes would view
Now sadly one, then to another sue!
Then to their unrelenting Breasts would fly,
Clasping their necks, Sweet Brethren pity me.
The true imagination of his pains
Doth make my blood carcer within my veins;
When I think on it my passion is so wild,
I start, and cry as present, Save the child.
My fingers fail and in perplexed demurs
Instead of words my pen indenteth blurs;
My heart doth quake my joints are all benumbed,
My trembling tongue unto my jaws is gum'd:
Yet not for him alone, but for my Savior
Of whom
he
was the type, with worse behavior
They used him of old, let every age
At once present their Scenes upon one Stage,
And all the miseries in History
Coucht in most tragick prodigality,
And in most gorgeous rhetoric expressed,
Yet
his
but in their naked colors dressed
Would show most gaudy, such as would enforce
Even Pagans unto mourning and remorse.
Anon our Brethren did deliberate,
Not to extenuate but defer their hate,
Till all the horror of their wittiest rage
Might wait on death in horrid equipage.
Mean while of
Reuben's
counsel they admit,
And (void of mercy) cast him in the pit;
Where if they meant him meat for Wolves or Bears,
Or in the empty pit to drown in tears,
Or left him there a prey to greedy famine,
The text is silent, nor may I examine.
Mild
Reuben
joyful that by this persuasion
He stopped their fury, thought by this evasion
When the dark night might, with his care conspire,
To free young
Joseph
from his Brethrensire,
Wherefore he cried I am void from this offense.
Bear witness heaven of my Innocence,
Now when they had left
Joseph,
and were dining,
And in a bloody
synod
were combining,
They lifted up their eyes, and might discern
A company, which they anon might learn
Were
Midianites,
whose trade was merchandice,
As
Gilead
Balm, gum, mirrh, and fragrant spice,
For
Egypt
on their bunch-backed Camels bound,
Which seen, thus
Judah
riseth from the ground;
Brethren, quoth he, the blood in
Josephs
veins
The self same tincture with our own retains,
And from the self-same channel it derives
As we do
that
which actuates our lives,
He is our flesh, let not his blood be spilled
(Since murder cannot be hid) lest that the guilt
On us and our posterity intail
A curse, from death let forefight be his bayl;
Come then, let's sell him to yon merchant-crew,
And then see what will of his dreams ensue;
The Brethren all assent to this advice,
And one is sent to barter for the price.
Quoth he, Good sirs we have in yonder cave
A smooth-faced lad, whom you may buy your slave,
Whom we would sell at reasonable price
Of gold, or silver, mirth, sweet balm, or spice:
Mean while our youth (blessing their cruelty
That yet where God sat thron'd he saw the sky)
Thus prayed, Great God of Angels, and of Man,
Who metest out yon heavens with the span,
Who stretch'st them like a curtain, and canst roll
Them up together like a Parchment scroll,
I have not deserved this at my Brethren's hands,
Yet
greater,
by transgressing thy commands,
And since thou by the hate, dost me reprove,
Of those, of whom I most did hope for love,
'It is just, 'gainst thee I oft commit offense,
Who most of me expectedst reverence:
Yet if I by my Brethren yield my breath,
O pardon me, and pardon them my death.
No sooner had he voiced this prayer, when
His furious Brethren had approached the den,
Whence having took him up by tackled cords,
Who looked for naught but death, they use these words,
Look you, quoth one, look yonder are thy masters,
We'll give thee time to weep at thy disasters;
Forsake thy native for a foreign land,
Where this fair skin shall be Sun-parch'd and tand;
Prepare these dainty limbs toendure the gripes
Of hardest labor, and these sides for stripes;
Prepare this dainty palate to be parch'd
With thirst, this stomach to be hunger-searched.
Quoth
Joseph,
if you will not pity take
For mine, nor
Jacob's,
then for heavens sake
Here let me starve, here let me dig my grave
Within this pit, O sell me not a slave.
I'd weep such characters, my tears should trace
Such
Water-works
upon my blubbered face,
Whose intricate
Meanders
should out-vie
Trajans
or
Bushells
in
Hydrography.
His moans no more appease their raging minds
Than can a Seaman's whistle still the winds;
But
him for twenty silver pieces sell,
And with a scornful look they bid farewell.
As
Arethusa
through the mazes led
Of the dark earth, through her enclosed bed,
At length makes passage, so my sorrow swells,
O'r flows my Brain, and drowns my brinie cels;
Their names, and natures seem to suit each other,
Judas
sold
Christ
and
Judah
sold his Brother,
And when I sin how cannot be understood
But that I am guilty of my Savior's blood!
I sold him, and he bought me, yet in vain,
For I each day do barter him again;
Sins are too pregnant, that they should appear
So far removed, only in
Plato's
year:
Their Brother by the
Patriarchs
of old,
After our Savior was by
Judas
sold,
Men are lived o'r again; O could our times
Non guilty plead from such unnat'rall crimes!
For spurious vices are hereditary,
Though th' ages vanish, and the seasons vary.
Now nights dark mantle had the world behung,
Nights Quirister her ev'ning notes had sung,
And careful
Reuben
thinking all secure,
Darkness at hand that might his care mature,
Unto his Brother hies, and coming near
He cries aloud dear Brother
Joseph
hear;
No answer made, unto a higher strain
He tunes his voice aloud to rouse the Swain,
None but an
echo
answers, with his fist
Then thumps his Breast, lest death and sleep had kist,
Then careful fear makes nearer scrutiny,
Believing not his ear, he trusts his ey,
And finding
him
not there sadly returns
Unto his Brethren, rents his clothes, and mourns.
The child is not, then I, I will not home,
But like savage Satvr hence will come,
Like a wood-Cit'zen, on the same accounts
With Bears and Wolves I'd dine and sup by ounce.
You never sucked the Breasts of Wolves or Bears,
That you should be obdurate to his tears;
Since he is slain, where have you him inhears'd?
Which of you hath his guiltless bosom piec'd?
Fear you not
Rachel
will appear anon.
And to our Father mone her murtherd son,
And with strong dreams at night intrance his spirit?
You for a blessing may a curse inherit.
Had rage no other countermine in store
Against contempt but death? what could it more?
At this they all stood mute, none was so bold
For to reply that
Josoph's
bought and sold,
Untill that one more boldly for the rest
To mourning
Reuben
all the truth confessed.
That done, the coat which they from
Joseph
stripped
I'th' blood of a young tender Goat they dipt.
Christ's
clothes were parted,
Josephs
dipt in blood,
May never by them our Church be understood,
May never our Church lie tinctured in her gore,
Not rent by Shismaticks, I heaven implore,
Nor heresies, may not that lovely Spouse
Be forced, nor Goats upon that Vineyard brouze;
May never the Boars on it commit their rapes,
Nor in their mud lie drunken with her grapes.
Now
Dan
's instructed with a feigned prize
Of
Josephs
coat to pierce his Fathers eyes.
Quoth he, Sir walking partly for to muse,
Partly to gather hurdles for our Ewes,
I saw my Curr strangely to breath the wind,
Anon this bloody garment for to find,
I doubt 'tis
Josephs,
and I could not rest
Till you resolved what yet my fears suggest;
Then
Jacob
rent his clothes, puts sackcloth on,
Doubtless, quoth he, some beast hath torn my son,
Come grief unsluce the floodgates of my brain,
Break ope the springs, let forth the silver rain:
Hath age or passion drain'd my humors dry?
What means within my brain this
strangury?
My brain's a barren cloud, though it have felt
The heat of grief 'twill not dissolve nor melt;
Me thinks now should my dropsi'd skin deplore
My
Joseph's
death with tears through every pore,
I have heard great sorrow's dumb and wanteth words,
But now griefs barren, and no tears affords;
My brain and fancy both alike are dry,
I can nor weep, nor speak my misery;
Would from the
North
I stormy sighs could borrow,
Tears from the fleeting
South
to weep my sorrow,
My heavy heart as moated round with led,
Doth lie within my bosom buried?
I have heard some have been nourished by Beasts,
Some children have been fostred at their Breasts,
Then, then, could not my
Joseph's
inn'cent ey
E'n charm all Beasts from their
Antipathy?
Dans
words did grate the grisles of my ears,
Crackt not my eye-strings when I saw through tears
The Coat? O would it had been a disguise,
But tears were not false glasses to mine eyes;
I'd weep the dregs of tears, these seem the froth
Of trivial grief, since tears cause children's growth.
Come
Benjamin,
Now thou mayst justly borrow
Thy Mothers name
Benoni,
son of sorrow;
Th'art not so young in years, but canst conceive
Of this our loss, how canst thou choose but grieve?
Father, quoth he (then were his eyes afloat
When as as he viewd the parti-coloured coat)
Do not all sorrow to yourself engross,
You weep a Sons, and I, as Brothers loss;
O would my tears were of that precious rate
That they slain
Joseph
could redeem from fate;
Joseph's
not lost, I have heard you oft rehearse
That
Enoch
had with God so near commerce
That God did take him, might not providence
Have like respect to
Joseph's
innocence?
If so, I have likewise often heard you name
How that my faithful Grandsire
Abraham
Would in obedience unto God's command
His only Son,
with an impartial hand,
Offer to God, you've many, he no more,
Grudge not to spare God one of all your store.
Quoth
Jacob,
Oh these hopes are counterfeit,
I'd gladly cheat my grief with such deceit,
My fear's too real, then his tears he shower'd,
Doubtless, quoth he, some beast hath him devoured.
Come, come, my children, weep with me awhile,
While that I lie like to a floating I will
Soaking in tears, come, and in Sympathie
Of
Josephs
fortunes lend a bleeding eye.
Talk not of clothes, this is griefs ornament,
Sorrow my food, and
Machpalah
my tent.
Would I had never seen these dismal years,
Then never had I thus died imbalm'd in tears.
Grief be my
Sexton,
Sorrow toll my Bell.
Death my
Vespillo
be, Fates ring my knell,
My Nun-like soul is weary of her cloister,
So sorrow sucks my marrow, dries my moisture.
In pity of his tears, what tyrant keeps
His eyes from raining when an old man weeps?
With the
Venetian
sorrow hath a Sea
Espoused to my brain,
tears are griefs plea,
Whose headstrong torrent who can but affront?
What
Xerxes
can but guive my
Holiespont?
The
Midianties
as doubting a reprieve
Of their loved purchase strait to
Memphis
drive,
Whose burnish'd turrets as they did approach,
Shewd like some Saphyrs dropt from
Phoebus
Coach;
Whose lofty Pinnacles transparent light
Did seem to mock the twinkling stars by night:
The Merchants willing to obtain regard
Of
Putiphar
Captain of
Pharaoh's
guard,
And good opinion of their trading truth,
With humble Court'sie thus present our youth.
Great Sir, quoth they, as we pasto'r the plains,
It was our chance to meet with
Hebrew
swains;
At whose much importunity we bought
This youth, whom we have to your Lordship brought;
Assuring thus ourselves, that if the grace
Of mind be answerable to his face,
So sweet a face, so blest a
Genius,
Is fitter for your Lordship, than for us.
Quoth
Putiphar
it argues not your thrift,
To tender gratis such a worthy gift,
Let not your courtesy thus seem so nice,
Nor circumstantial, but tell the price.
Quoth one, the
Hebrews
asked Spice Balm, or gum,
But twenty silver pieces was the sum;
At this the Captain starteth How so cheap?
So rare a purchase for so small a heap?
Were I a King, and such a son had lost,
I would redeem him at my kingdom's cost,
Nay though twice
Egypt,
and though
Nile
did stream
In golden Cataracts, surpast a dream,
Though each sand were a Saphyr on his banks;
Take gold for silver, for your love take thanks;
These homely weeds do not beseem my lad,
Thou shalt in scarlet, and in silks be clad,
Nor by extorting trials will I prove,
How thou hereafter wilt deserve my love,
Though I am not like those that do rejoice
When that they buy, in nature, more than choice;
This said, the multitude about him crowds,
He like a star bemantled round with clouds,
Or like a Diamond if richly set
In the circumference of a ring of jet.
You in his face might read whom he adored,
And in their visage, whom they oft implor'd.
Now to his home the Captain brought his page,
Drest with the rest in scarlet equipage,
Whose blushing cheeks natures fresh livery,
Did shame the scarlet with a nobler die;
Jove
never was served by such a
Ganymede,
No false
Ixion
to his masters bed;
What ere he did some
Angel
did attend,
And brought his actions to a prosperous end,
And for his sake, his Masters care and pain
Was ever recompense'd with double gain.
This seen, there's granted to his providence
The office of a steward to dispense:
Where God's the supervisor who will fear?
T'a faithful steward God's a treasurer;
Success the midwife was, and gain the heir
And happy issue still of each affair.
Envy at this repines, and madly shakes
About her horrid head her rattling snakes;
Her looks more meager grew, her limbs more thin,
And with her rusty teeth begins to grin
At
Josephs
Fortunes,
he
must drink a sup
Of hers, as well as Fortunes pleasant cup;
Among the rest that homage did of duty,
And vowed adorates were to
Josephs
beauty,
His mistress (fair
Iempsar
) tore the veil
Of modesty, no counsel could be bail
For captive reason
J seph
gave the wound,
And who to cureit but
Joseph
may be found?
First reason to her fancy read this lecture,
Should this be known what would the Court conjecture?
Reason exiled judgment thus depraved,
Thou to thy servile vassal thus inslav'd.
I grant sweet
Joseph
hath a peerless beauty,
But can his loyally dispense with duty,
He owes his master
Potiphar
her Lord?
And fear'st thou not his lust-revenging sword?
But what quoth she? let fore-sight wait one age,
Youth never to counsel sues for Patronage;
Let fab'lous fears present their bug bear faces,
And marshall all their horrors yet the basis
On which my resolution grounds my love
What terror can but shake what fear remove?
Now this res
•
lv'd upon what flight evasion
Hath critic reason, and what vain persuasion?
Werit not for gifts this face persuades alone
Since he hath eyes and ears, he may be won.
Pregnant with hopes impariently she tends
Till time might provent Pander for her ends,
And long had sweating lost conspired with fraud,
Untill fa
••
e Opportunity the
Baud
To s
•
ch designs, appointed time and place,
When she uninterrupted pleads her case.
Dear
J
•
seph,
long with hopes my breast hath teem'd,
Time long unfleg'd and
••
llow wing'd hath seemed,
Til they delivered by the Midwifry
B
•
of this happy Opportunity,
Which since it smiles on us, I hope my love
Shall not by coy neglect abortive prove.
Why starts thou at love named? why dost thou scorn?
'It is to and for love that we all were born.
Frown not but speak yet speak not while you frown,
I will not hear, nay pray, you shall not down.
What is it that thou fearest? no spy waits
To fright our dalliance to distracted straits.
Pray leave these niceties, and give a kiss
As happy
Prologue
to ensuing bliss.
Come youth, I will set thee in a shower of gold.
And rain down Pearls upon thee; nay be bold:
Pray smooth this brow, these cloudy looks inform
That some dislike is raising of a storm.
Madam, quoth he, excuse if I explode
This your request, 'tis sin against my God.
How can I then do this? this massy roof
That thus contains us is not thunder proof:
How can my loyalty break down the verge
Of reason, love, and duty? since the charge
Of all to me is granted, you except
What hath my Lord from me detained or kept?
Which would much aggravate this gross abuse,
So far beyond remission, as excuse.
Now here was beauty, if he had been fond
Beauty with beauty here might correspond.
Here were large promises, that might inchant
A stern refusal to a silent grant.
Since heaven was his love, it is no wonder
If less he feared her frown than heavens thunder.
Not willing to desist at this repulse,
Our Amorist with second thoughts consults;
First fearing lest her faces nice perusal
Might in the lad occasion this refusal,
Her glass she curses, grief her heart doth gnaw;
I thought quoth she, these beaming eyes could thaw
E'n frost-congealed veins, and might suffice
To melt a heart though moated round with ye;
But I am deceived, by
Chemosh
and you light
My nails could damn you to eternal night,
And on this face could act a Martyrdom,
Bite off this fruitless tongue, and hence live dumb.
Alas poor ornaments, despised tresses,
Contemned promises, deceiving dresses,
Love took me pris'ner, yet I could take arms,
And now what wit, what counsel-countercharms
Can exercise my love? love's spirit lies
Beyond the reach of all our sorceries.
What patience can concealit, What reason smother?
False expectation is a cursed Stepmother.
With what an Usury doth she extort
An ages longing for a minutes sport?
But joy with grief, Fate on one Bottom spins,
And pain and pleasure often-times are twins.
Though Pain's the elder, yet to the forlorn
Anon Joy th'younger Sister will be born;
On this our Lover Deifies Perswasion,
And with a Godhead she invests Occasion;
She'll try once more, though shame do countermand,
Though life with death in equal balance stand.
Despair and Hope long in her Brest contested,
Untill her mem'ry time and place suggested;
And now how slowly
Phoebus
snailes his course,
And draws his fiery Coach with founderd horse;
The wings of flagging Time are clipt, he feels
The keys of sleep and death weighed at his heels.
Occasion serving her you may conceive
Our wanton Amorist thus plays the
Eve.
Dear
Joseph,
Fate and Fortune have conspired
For to mature the suit I late desired,
Then let's no longer this our bliss prorogue,
But now close up our loving Epilogue;
Why looks disdain asquint? this forehead furld
In angry folds? Survey this little world,
What beauty's in the world (my type) surmiz'd
That's not in me more gloriously comprised?
My Eyes dim
Phoebus
light, my Cheeks the spheres,
And what deformed clouds on them appears?
Each beauty here's a star, only from hence
My
J
••
eph
doth disdain their influence;
The Sun's all eye, the walls can do no wrong,
By palate, throat, two lips, four teeth and tongue.
Then fear no spies, these frowns shall never daunt,
They'r but an
Introduction
to a grant.
What, fear'st the light? the windows shall be seeld;
Since love is blind, Come do not frown, but yield.
Quoth he, What means this chat, this bootless flattr'y?
Remove your Siege, my Fort disdains the Batt'ry;
O let your face and deeds be Relatists,
Where heaven, grace, and beauty in one twists,
'It is a rare mixture, else for what's this face?
Your world doth want his Sun if void of Grace.
Is lustful
Sodom's
fiery doom forgot?
Or wasit not heard? me thinks the room's too hot.
This Curtain's woven in too thin a loom
To bear out forked lightning and this room
Not built of such unmalleable stuff,
But the same God can thunderbolt it through.
What Mimick figures doth this Face assume
To set forth Passion? use this fruitless rheum
Distilling from your Eyes to purge your guilt,
For to this purpose all in vain are spilled.
On this
Iemsar
madly ruminates,
Fortune's a Strumpet, who, but Bawds the Fates?
Occasion is a Traitress, 'tis no slander
If
Venus
be called Where,
Cupid
a Pander.
Anon she frets and fumes, vext with the pride
That she should be neglected, and denied.
Then rails on Nature 'cause her beauties vigor
Could not prevail, then threats her with this rigor.
Poor face, quoth she, my nails could quote in scars,
And trace thy shame in bloody characters.
These Eyes, these Eyes, are Basilisks, else sure
Where they are thus avoided, might allure;
Then since that naught avails this idle breath,
I will to my glass, and look myself to death.
Weak Hair! How often have I thought in vain
That you in amorous guives could
Hero's
chain?
Are you thus slighted? can a servile groom
Break through your tresses like a Spiders loom?
I'd gladly Reason re-admit my tutor,
And friendly counsel, as her Coadjutor;
But where some beauties cloy the appetite,
His
sets a sharper edge upon delight.
Let reason chat, so with attentive grisle
Rough
Boreas
hearkens to the Sea-men's whistle;
For what! who but a leaden-spirited clown
Will fearfully stand bent at every frown?
True Resolution hath my temper steeled,
Which back will spring, till broke will never yield.
Long Summers crown the long expected primes,
And who will gain his ends must wait on times,
Where pleasure's principal, pain pays the use.
Of Fate and Fortune now she begs excuse;
And
Love
with whom she madly late contested
Is in his Deity now re-invested;
Who'll not endure Love's pecking Doves shall smart
For his impatience with his angry dart;
To those that yield Love is a gracious Queen,
A tyrant to a refractory spleen;
Somtimes she fears suspicion might discover
To
Putiphar,
she was her Vassals lover,
And then what slight, or what insinuation
Can free her from his just repudiation?
But Fear's a
Pigmie
dressed in
Gorgons
clothes;
To gain her ends she'll break all nuptial oaths:
On Lovers perjuries they say
Joves
smiles,
And
Love
is still auspicious to such Wiles.
As did
Semiramis
once woo her
Nine,
So likewise our
Egyptian Messaline.
Occasion serving her, you may surmise,
Thus makes her third assault upon her prize.
Look dear, how Time hath granted what I claimed,
And Chance presents the scope to which I aimed,
Let's not delay, of my request accept,
And in my grant let Nature have her debt;
Thou to a Father wert a Child, I gather
That to a Child thou mightest become a Father;
Pray do not thus discourteously impeach
Me as before, hear, till I end my Speech;
Yet in my suing looks if I were mute,
Thou mightest most plainly read my loving suit;
Regard these Tears, Pearls of so rare esteem
Which
Pharaoh,
if a Captive, might redeem.
What's here, shouldst thou of envy take advice?
What's here deformed that thou shouldst be nice?
Here's symmetry no ill-proportioned frame,
Nature and Art herein deserve no blame;
My sinews active are my spirits quick
Are as thine own, they are neither gr
•
ss nor thick;
Which granted, speak, who (but a senseless stone)
To such requests as these would not be prone?
Madam, quoth he my resolution's fixed,
Nor with ambiguous doubts at all is mixed;
Were you an Angel come from heaven, and moved
Me to this suit, I never would have loved;
Which yer I grant, conceive that Heaven and Hell,
Things inconsistent, incompatible
Shall in harmonious unity combine,
Yer I one thought to your request incline;
Though nature you with choicest parts endows,
My ey shall never countermand my vows.
I hate not love, but that intemp'rate flame
Of burning lust that thus usurps his name;
Love at a heavenly beam doth light his torch,
While hellish flames the lust-allured scorch.
Much more than
this,
for sacred love I'd speak;
The text is old, the oratory weak.
Pray speak no more, my ears do burn for shame
To hear your talk, my cheeks are all aflame.
Thus daily did our pathick Amorist,
The fair
Iempsar,
in her suit persist;
And
Joseph's
truth, as bold was as her lust
Denies to violate his faith and trust.
Oft did his ears pump her invention dry,
And then her sighs her meaning would supply;
And as some do observe, the visage keeps
The self-same figures when it laughs and weeps,
So various were her passions, none could read
In
hers
where that she smiled, or wept indeed.
Had but the
Sirens
to
Ulysses
sung
So sweetly, as here wooed
Iemsars
tongue,
'It is thought
Ulysses
had, though never so chaste,
Broke through the yielding Cable, burst the Mast,
His men's unsealed ears charmed by her notes,
Had left their empty ship to
Neptunes
floats.
Now would she strike her Breasts, then otherwhiles
Weep tears would cheat even the Crocodiles.
Ne'r was a
Roe
more weary of her chase,
Ne'r timorous Hare to shun the Hunters trace,
Doubled more folds, or made more near escapes,
Than to avoid her, he did vary shapes;
And when he ever would himself unmew,
She like disdained
Echo
still would sue;
Or like his shadow, only had not fled,
Had he returned to her lustful Bed.
Iempsar
at young
Josephs
chaste regrets,
Is madly malcontent, and thus she frets.
Shall expectation longer dull my sense?
Or I turn'
•
o'r to racking patience?
Stoop I so low, and in my suit so serious?
And is this Lad so sullen and imperious?
Shall I, shall I, who was so nobly born
Thus prove a
•
rop
•••
to my vassals scorn?
Shall I, whose words can either save or doom,
Thus
•
ive, as sentenced by my servile groom?
Shall I, whose powrfull face was wont to bow
The stoutest Monarchs to an amorous vow,
Be thus despised contemned condemned, rejected,
My promise slighted and my faith suspected?
I will make him know by dear experience,
What 'tis a woman's fury to incense.
Women are
Angels,
grant to what they moved,
Deni'd are
Furies,
hate what ere they loved.
But yet there are some hopes; perhaps this Boy
Is out of inexperience thus so coy:
A bold assault, perchance, may win the crown,
Then will I thunder if he dare to frown;
The sweetest Wine hath still the sharpest lees;
And water heat, once coold will hardest freeze:
Seeing thus my resolution hath decreed,
Let
Ven
••
or
Alecto
be my speed.
Ne'r could our haunted youth have the enjoyment
Of ease or quiet, labor or employment,
But him she haunts, at length he unaware,
Thus boldly she anticipates his ear.
Look dear, my care thy utmost hath outvi'd;
Why fly'st me so? sweet give me leave to chide;
Was it not grief enough thou shouldest deny me?
But thus likewise discourteously to fly me?
Denyalls wound but where love cannot plead
His suit through absence, sorrow strikes him dead:
Dear, Why art thou and I grown day and night,
When I am most then thou art least in sight:
Look Time o'rshades us with a prosp'rous wing,
And but thy love could I wish anything?
Frown not, since Fortune smiles, make use of season,
Here is no blab to prate, then fear no treason.
Art thou religious? What is zeal but love?
And such proficience must such means improve;
Leave, leave this coyness, let not love be banished,
Make use of love, before this Youth be vanished.
This said, our hasty lover is grown mute,
As was invention prompting a recruit.
Quoth
Joseph,
Madam, leave these
Sirens
songs,
This pair of ears can dry a thousand tongues,
They never shall force a passage to my heart;
My resolution goes beyond your art.
Then be resolved, I wish you understood
Lust stains the tincture of your noble blood.
Love is all valor, damned lust a craven;
Love's
Emblem
is a
Dove,
but Lust's a
Raven.
More I could speak.—and more he would have spoke
Had she not lustfully caught at his Cloak,
Who, of his Cloak, not chastity, bereft,
Fled, and his garment with his Mistress left.
He gone, her blood through choler grew adust
Within her veins, black, as her burning lust;
Where Lust's the Mother, Hate is still the Child,
Thus Love and Lust are never reconciled.
Iempsar
raves, no other pains she felt
Than did some Witch her waxen statue melt,
Her heart knocked at her ribs e'n such a pain
Did
Meleager
(Poets say) sustain,
When that his Mother with her angry hand
Into the flames had cast the fatal brand;
Officious envy soon a lie suggested,
And she as by some horrid ghost infested
Exclaim'd aloud, her servants at the noise
Approach'd, whom strait she greeteth with this voice.
Quoth she, The slave on which
He
so consides,
Forsooth the Steward who our business guides,
Would ravish me; but by my outcry chacit,
Fled, and his garment with me left through hast,
Glad she had dressed her lie in such a shape,
That he on her attempted had a rape,
She knew the Youth should from her Husband win
No expiation for so foul a sin,
On which triumphing our incensed Dame
Lays up the Garment till her Husband came.
He come, her mind our Lady thus discust,
As
Phaedra
once accused her son of lust.
With mournful looks, moist eyes, and hands expans'd,
Quoth she, The Youth whom you have so advanced,
Had ravished me, had not my shreeking tongue
More powerful been, than my defense was strong.
And as a witness of what he designed
For hast he left with me his Cloak behind.
This said, the blood boyld in the Captains veins,
Rough Jealousy strait gave his rage the reins;
Quoth He to
Joseph,
is this lovely look
So fair an Index to so false a Book?
Nay sure old Nature doted, when she shrind
Within so fair a Case so foul a Mind.
Hence, I will never trust to beauty, since I know
Worst thoughts lurk mask'd under the fairest show.
How I am deceived who would ever fear
A Devil moved within this splendid sphere?
I know the reason now, and will assent
Why fairest flowers have still the foulest sent.
Is thy Religion but a feigned disguise?
Is lust the zeal that thus thy temper fries?
Wert thou for this preferred, so highly fed,
That thou shouldst thus attempt to stain my Bed?
Could none, could none, ambitious lust, suffice
But such a purchase of so rare a prize?
Hardship shall check this temper day and night,
Hunger shall quell this lustful Appetite;
Yet though thou herein wert so malapert,
And this offense might cancel all desert,
My rage shall not glut on thy flesh for food,
Nor shall my furyes revel on thy blood;
Yet leave these robes that I may be revenged,
These golden Chains for Guives must be exchange'd,
These Rings for Manacles, for Tapestry
Darkness shall serve thee for a Canopy;
To prison hence, whence hope for no reprivall:
Think'st thou my thoughts can brook my slave, my rivall?
Oft
Joseph
thus began, yet when he spoke
The Captain on the Jailor would invoke.
My grief the rigor of your doom exceeds,
That Fate hath interwoven so my deeds
With secrecy that what my Mistress saith
Beyond my truth, of all should purchase faith:
Yet innocence is bold and I avouch
If ere I so attempted her to touch,
May heaven and earth against me both conspire,
And may I stand the object of their ire,
If I were false, then as my just desert,
May this right hand prove traitor to my heart.
To God who is as innocent, so just
I do appeal, I never meant this lust;
To him, that will both quit me for this blame,
And in the end make envy blush for shame.
These notwithstanding
Josephs
vows and tears,
So Jealousy stood in the Captains ears
As Sentinel, that no complaint or mone
Could force a passage unto reasons throne;
And thus no further brought unto the test
The Jailor entertains his woeful guest.
Although a Pearl through glass more dully shines,
'It is not the prison Wall but guilt confines;
Where conscience in the bosom runs atilt
Against the heart, the Jailor
there
is guilt.
And if the body, not the mind be free,
What is that but a captiv'd liberty?
The greater world to such, no less doth seem,
Than is the lesser in the souls esteem.
But innocence though in a narrow gyre
Is free as ever fancy can desire;
Angels spread not more free their aery wings;
The charter'd Libertine of the Woods, not sings
More free; the ship cuts not the silver foam,
Nor Fish more freely in the Ocean come;
Nay Winds are limited, and Sea's restrained,
But Innocence is free, though bound and chained.
Oft our impris'ned Youth his God implor'd,
And with these mournful sighs the heavens board,
Thou that art clothed with light; as with a cloak,
Before whom heaven vanisheth like smoke,
Dispell, O Lord, that willful ignorance
That would miscall this Providence, a Chance;
Lord, I have sinned, and this heavy scourge
Thou plagu'st me with, was formed in my forge;
'It is sin, my conscience, Lord, doth so attest,
Betraies my freedom unto this arrest;
So that I cannot satisfy my mind
Which of the
two
more straightly is confined,
Either my
Soul
within this flesh immur'd,
Or else my
Body
that is thus secured;
Thou, that for former sins dost
thine
correct
(Although
then
innocent) with false suspect;
Thou who makest greatest men, like stoutest trees
At thy rebuke to bow their knotty knees;
Since sin upon my Soul writes not this guilt;
Let mercy bayl, let not my life be spilled:
This of thee, Lord, I humbly do importune,
Who art far much above Men, Fate, or Fortune.
Our Youth in Prison had not long been kept,
But that his winning manners softly crept
Into the Jaylours breast, and won such grace,
The Jailor captive to his Pris'ner was;
So ever did this holy Witch inchaunt him,
So ever
Joseph's
good conceit did haunt him;
That he anon commiserates the youth,
And makes strange descants on
Iemsars
truth;
Anon his care by constancy matur'd,
Had so the Jailor of the truth assured,
That to his providence, he grants at large
His keys, his care, his custody and charge;
Anon great
Pharaoh
highly was incensed,
For thus suspicion had her plaint commenc'd
His Butler and his Baker had compli'd
On him to act a poys'nous
Regicide;
The King deferred not, but on his attaint
Both were confined to a close restraint;
Both to the self-same prison were conveyed
To which sweet
Joseph
lately was betrayed,
Whom so the Captain of the guard enlarged
That with the new-come Pris'ners he was charged,
Who for a time were both in prison kept,
Till in a night when sleep paid Natures debt;
Their brains had etertained such conceits,
Whose resolution drove them to such straits;
What should these dreams import, whose ridling fancy
They feared surpast the rack of
Necromancy;
With strange imaginations thus perplexed
They sat revolving on the fancies text:
Till
Joseph
came, who strait in humble sort
Thus asks what these demeanors did import,
Quoth he, what means this eye, late, quick, and full
So suddenly grow hollow, sunk and dull.
These fixed looks, what do these sighs imply?
This visage dressed in sorrows livery?
Grief vented much is eased,
then tell the cause
On what you thus demur, and sadly pause;
This night, quoth they, our troubled
Genii
Have fixed so strangely on our memory
Strange Dreams, beyond our powers to untwist,
And (worse) we fear, of Charm or
Chemosh
Priest,
This said, quoth
Joseph
heaven oft in Dreams
Presents imagination with Theams
Of high import, inspired fantasie
Oft speaks more true then weak Astrology;
And as 'tis God's toinspire, I dare be bold
To say 'tis likewise
his
for to unfold;
Weak sorcery may feed you with delusion,
Ne'r satisfy you with a true conclusion;
Then here unload your thoughts to me, and I
I'the end may prove your faithful
Mercury.
At this the Butler speaks then hear, Ipray
Me thought one Vine three branches did display,
Which first, me thought, did bud, then bloom'd abroad,
Then bore ripe clusters of a pleasant load;
I having
Pharaohs
Cup, before him stood,
And in it to him crushed their sparkling blood;
Quoth
Joseph
then, three branches are three days,
Which time expired,
Pharaoh
shall thee raise
From up this Dungeon, unto former grace,
And shalt officiate in thy wonted place.
But then, quoth he, as this shall thus prove true,
So to the King for my releasment sue,
That I no longer thus, may lie inplung'd,
My spotless name by infamy expung'd;
For I long since was ravished by theft,
Both of my Country, and my friends bereft;
Then when you are to dignity restored,
Pray think on what I humbly here implor'd;
Remember
Joseph,
quit me from this blame,
Lest I prove, shortly, nothing but the name.
From that sin of Lust, heaven knows I am clear,
As is you light that Chariots in his Sphere.
The Baker seeing the Butlers Dreams import,
Was of his re-advancement in the Court,
Quoth he,
I likewise strangely dreamed, me thought
As to the Court I three white Baskets brought
With back'd-meats, and with other plenty stored,
Wherewith I might replerish
Pharaohs
board,
The Birds allured by the dainties fled,
And pickd them as I bore them on my head.
Quoth
Joseph
these three Baskets do presage,
When thrice the Sun hath past the azurd stage.
The King shall from this Prison thee convey,
And hang thee on a tree for Birds a prey;
The third day
Memphis
with triumphal mirth
Held in remembrance of their
Pharohs
birth,
When that the Butlers innocent desert
Was re-advanced the Baker to the Cart
From Prison was conveyed, and in this season
Was hanged in expiation of his treason;
Whose trunk allured many an aery guest,
Who seemed in honor of the time to feast;
The Butler notwithstanding
this,
forgot
Sad
Joseph
that foretold his future lot,
As fattest fields yield weeds of foulest savors,
Ingratitude repayes the greatest favors;
Since Pride, is Fortunes daughters 'tis less strange
To see how soon
us
can Preferment change:
For they whose Fortunes fly another sphere
Unto their Mates, stern Planets oft appear;
At least despise them, or their Vows forget;
So Bells at first speak thick, but raised are set.
So small Brooks roar, but gaining depth of land,
Their swelling streams are at a sullen stand.
Twice swelling
Nile
his barren banks had drowned,
And with his fertile slime inricht the ground,
Twice twelve times had the Mistress of the night,
Lookt black, through absence of her lovers sight,
When that great
Pharaoh
on his couch lay stretched,
And leaden
Morpheus
on his senses watched,
His roving
Genius
was entertained
By such conceits, which, though his fancy feigned,
Yet under them, he feared, was couched a sense
Of high Import, and mighty Consequence;
When, straight, he tries the Charmers and their Spells,
Who all implor'd their wonted Oracles;
One wooed the Stars, another pli'd the Tomb,
A third his Spirit charmed, but all were dumb;
As when some did the
Delphian
Shrine implore,
When th'Oracle grew dumb, and spake no more.
On which the Butler being seen awoke
By racking memory, thus humbly spoke,
Great Sir, I cannot give my thoughts a truce,
Till I myself thus to your Grace accuse,
I with the Baker were accused long since
To have conspired the death of thee, our Prince,
On which, as Traitours to the solemn Oath
Of our Aleageance, you confined us both;
When in one night, our fancies had imprest
Such Dreams on memory, which to the test
Of Reason brought, drove us toamazed straights
Who might unfold their intricate conceits;
When to a fellow-pris'ners much requests
The Captains servant, We unlocked our Breasts,
Who, the results both of my innocence
Foretold, and of the Bakers just events.
Pharaoh
not asking why he was attach'd,
A hasty Message to the Guard dispatched
To set their Pris'ner free; who we may guess,
Was brought to
Pharaoh
in a seemly dress;
Who, now rejecting all the Magic sect,
Thus speaks to
Joseph
with a mild aspect;
Strange Dreams, this night, my Spirits have ingrost,
Remembrance haunts me like an angry Ghost,
And I have heard thy Spirit is accute,
And canst unravell Dreams beyond dispute;
Now, couldst thou lead me through this Maze, and Mist
Of doubts, couldest thou my ridling Dreams untwist?
Quoth
Joseph,
Then let
Pharaoh
hear me speak,
Yet 'tis not I, but God, for I am weak;
Let fears all vanish, let debarement cease;
My God shall to great
Pharaoh
answer peace.
Quoth
Pharaoh,
as I slept, this was my Dream.
Me thought I stood close by a pleasant stream,
I looked, and from the banks I saw there climb'd
Seven Kine, fat-flesh'd, and well proportion limb'd,
Which in a Medow near the River placed,
Fed pleasantly, and made a full repast:
Next, from the stream ascending, I observed,
Seven Kine, small limb'd, sunk-ey'd, and hunger-starved,
Who straight devoured the rest that came before,
Yet still remained ill-favored, lean, and poor,
Then I awoke, and while I sadly mus'd,
Where this were natural, or else infused,
I know not yet, what vapors did condense
Within my brain, sleep once more locked my sense,
When lo, I dreamed again,
One stalk sustaind
Sev'n ears of Corn, rank, good, and heavy-graind;
Next them, sev'n ears thin, blasted, and deflowr'd
Arose, which strait, the former crop devoured:
I told the Charmers this yet never could learn
Of them, what these my dreamings did concern.
Great Sir, quoth
Joseph
thus,
these sev'n full ears,
And sev'n good kine, are seven plenteous years,
In which the earth shall in increasfull crops.
Rejoice the Husbandmen beyond their hopes;
The sev'n thin ears, and seven ill-favored kine,
Are seven years of Famine, I divine,
Which shall ensue the first,
the Springs recruit
Be void, the Earth fail of her wonted fruit;
The Vine shall not her wonted Vintage bleed,
And
Nile
in nothing fruitful but in weed.
The Dream was twice presented, for to show
That this established is, and shall ensue
Through God's decree, now
(by your Graces leave)
If I might counsel what I fit conceive,
Though I am shallow, and my thoughts I still
Confess, flag much below your Counsels skill.
Yet I might say, that oft (your Grace doth know)
To lowest means we greatest matters owe.
And though that no one can anticipate
The Heavens decree, and cross the doom of Fate,
Your Grace may know there's by this warning meant,
That you this judgment may through care prevent;
Let
Pharaoh
make one of his wisest Peers
Chief Master of the Corn the plenteous years.
Who may disperse his servants through each County.
To gather up
Ceres
superfluous bounty
To a fifth part, while plenty so shall last,
Through riot that there be no spoil nor wast,
Who where there are no Barns may give a charge;
To build where they are small for to enlarge;
For great shall be the plenty and extreme
Shall be the famine, as your Grace did Dream;
So shall you wisely deal, like careful Ants,
Whom Natures teacheth to prevent their wants;
Famine's Death's younger Sister,
'tis an Elf
More terrible than War or Death itself.
This liking
Pharaoh
well he answers thus;
Where can we find so fit a
Genius?
So dext'rous as thyself so full of merit,
In whom there is inshrin'd so rare a Spirit?
So worthy of our confidence, so prompt?
Of my affairs here take the full accompt,
Who dares against my choice for to repine?
Or turn a Rebell to thy Discipline?
My
Genius,
my triple ey I swear
Thou than my other two art far more dear;
How joy refines my temper! oh 'tis strange,
They err that think Complexions cannot change.
Embraces distant are O would that Fate
Would grant we might more near incorporate.
My wit wants words to set my Passion forth,
Or
Hieroglyphycks
to describe thy worth;
Who dares with thee confessed? there's greater none
Than thee but I that sit upon the Throne.
So
•
e late under an Imperious guard,
Was now advanced unto high reward;
Pharaoh
sat at the Helm, but
Joseph
steered,
And in the second Chariot was prefer'd
And some, according to the Kings Decree
Would run before him, crying,
Bow the knee.
So he, who seemed in misery forlorn'd
His neck hath with a golden Chain adorned;
His finger decked with a precious Ring
Which
Pharaoh
wore as
Emblem
of a King.
Who in despised rags did lie of late.
Now in rich Robes walked in Majestick state:
The
Bias
of all
Egypt
he, that drew
Their Inquisition toan admiring view:
The Court was but the Ring, and he the Gem,
As to a branch of
Egypt's
Royal Stem.
All did submit themselves, and to the Court
As to a late descended God resort.
First, one would call him Father, and salute
Him with a present of his early fruit;
In things of weight, one by his
Genius
swore,
A third in pain would
Josephs
God implore,
The old (late weary of their lives) desired
To bless their Eyes with him yet they expired;
The middle ag'd would bless him, and the young
Unto him issue, in a num'rous throng;
Rich, poor, strong weak, the humble, and the haughty,
All ran to see the Author of their safety;
So he,
on whom the heavens seemed to frown,
Is now advanced unto high renown.
So he,
who late in Prison did obey,
Now o'r all
Egypt
bears a mighty sway;
Our Savior's truest Type; so Christ arose
To save those whom God of his mercy chose;
As
Pharaohs
love to
Joseph
was inclined,
Hath God the Father to his
Son
resigned
All Power, hath
Him
from bonds of flesh released,
So is the Father in the Son well pleased;
Hath at his right hand placed him, wills that we
At
Jesus
name should bow an humble knee.
Thrice ten times
Joseph
had seen
I aniveer
With double face to usher in the year,
When thus he stood before great
Pharaohs
face,
And gained this measure of his Princely grace,
Which age, now for a bosom help matur'd,
Such was kind
Pharaoh's
love, that he procured
Potipherah,
the princely Priest of
Un,
To take his Countries Father for his Son,
His first-born was
Manasseh,
for I have
Quoth he, forgot how I was sold a slave.
My present happiness where ere I come,
Makes me forget my Friends and native home;
His
second Ephraim,
for I, a stranger,
Quoth he, am fruitful in a Land of danger;
About which age our blessed Sacrifice
Having redeemed us not with common price,
But with his blood, ascended hence from
this,
〈…〉
a far more glorious world of bliss;
And for his sweet beloved, though he the groom
Prorogue the Marriage till the day of doom;
He never is absent from the Church, his Spouse,
Both by the Spirit dart their mutual vows.
Now 'gan the plenteous years,
Nile
at no time
Did ever leave such fruitful beds of slime;
The Husbands pain though great, though fat the soil,
Yet still the fruit surpast their hopes and toil;
As if God through a gracious remorse
Of man's great toil, had here repealed that curse
Of tedious barrenness, for here their ground
Did like a fertile Paradise abound;
Fields that this Marshes weep, that Fens did mourn,
With fruit now laughed, and sung with cheerful corn;
The weather seasonable, no fierce rain
Egg'd on by Tempests, washed away their grain;
The heat was temperate,
Sols
gaudy torch
Did smile to ripen, never kiss to scorch.
And now did
Joseph,
like a careful Father,
Against the time of Dearth begin to gather,
Conceiv'd how many sands are on the shore,
So vast, so numberless was
Joseph's
store;
Who, from the Kings Exchequer stored with Coin,
Fill'd up both Field and City, then would join
Barn unto barn, which large repositories
Stood long as Monuments of
Joseph's
glories.
Now to prevent all riots he began,
Which still destroys more than a Famine can,
Corrupting plenty often is the Nurse
Of foul disease, no blessing but curse,
Time oft can witness, when abuse begat
Upon so fair a piece so foul a Brat.
Sev'n times had
Sol
cheered the
Cymmerian
coast,
Twelve times so oft exchange'd his monthly Host,
Since Nature like an ill-drawn Picture grew,
When it is pencil'd with a partial view;
Or an inconstant Parent, whose love's blind,
And so imparts his store by
Gavell kind,
Since she thus
Egypt
with such plenty blest,
But proved almost a Stepdame to the rest.
Anon (all things being hurried on the hinge
Of change, and subject to the fatal swinge
Of misery) here Famine rays'd her stage,
And 'gan, as
Joseph
did foretell, to rage.
Nile
that was wont to drench their parched earth,
Now only flowed in tears to weep their dearth;
As if some pore, or dry-exhausting vein
Had drain'd that slime that should refresh their grain;
The Husbandman lamented, that his seed
Di'd not to live again, the noisome weed
Did revel in his labor whose excess
Did riot in a fruitful barrenness;
Thus pin'd he, 'cause he lived a bootless slave:
Now might he with his Plough share dig his grave;
His Prune-hook useless was, unless the Fate
Of Dearth therewith he would anticipate.
Now Famine had presented her first scene,
Which made the frighted Country-man to glean
His late neglected fields, and that is prized
As a rich Harvest which was late despised;
Another greedily would scrape the dough
That lay neglected in her kneading trough;
That face, which had Natures fresh liv'ry worn,
And showed as verdant as the rosie morn,
Now full-faced plenty had the Land forsook
Famine displayed pale colors in each look,
All walking like to naked
Skeletons
Unto their Fellows made their heavy moans;
Some in the street did reel, how could they tread
A steady pace, that lack'd the staff of bread?
Now all near famished, and their gleanings done,
With trembling steps they all to
Pharaoh
run,
As to their Father, making their complaint,
While some through weakness in his presence faint.
Great Sir quoth one, look how our beauty's blasted,
Our strength is spent, our spirits are exhausted,
Our young ones starve, our abler stomachs feed,
(Unless thou food supply,) on grass and weed;
Observe how Dearth mocks Death, our nether jaws
Hang down through weakness, while we plead our cause;
Look, look, how some would speak, but their faint lungs
Stop the intendments of their clammy tongues;
Grant, and dismiss us, for we here resort
Not for to make a Charnell-house thy Court.
The King pricked with remorse of
Egypt's
want,
Thus mildly condescends his Princely grant,
Quoth he, go, and what
Joseph
shall enjoin
Obey, doubt not, his spirit is divine.
That said, they croucht their thanks, have you observed
How that a Falcon through neglect near starved,
Soon as her Keeper comes within her sight,
Both makes an eager, though a slug-like flight,
Unto her prey, and though her limbs be weak,
She fiercely tugs it with her ragged beak;
So the
Egyptians
in a numerous press
To
Joseph's
Palace, make their full address,
Some dumbly passionating beg'd, some kist
His feet, who op'ning all his store dismissed
Them all without a rigorous dispute,
With a glad burden of their purchased suit.
Now
Egypt
in this fatal time of dearth
Remain'd the only Store-house of the Earth,
The worlds chief Granary, of grain the sole
Exchequer of each Land from Pole to Pole;
Even
Canaan
on whose rich abounding store
Once lived thirty Kings, must now implore
Her neighbors help, glad if she might in peace
Be made partaker of her blest increase;
Among whom (so did Providence design)
Old
Jacob
and his Sons began to pine
Through dearth; the palate late so liquorish,
Would gladly banquet on a common-dish;
Oft
Jacob
ruminates and weighs the cause
Why were all Kingdoms offered to the jaws
Of Famine, then concludes they are justly cursed,
Since they such monstrous sinners long had nursed;
Then would he doubt lest that his Children's sin
Had brought this Curse on fertile
Palestine.
Then seeks with Sacrifice for to appease
The heavens wrath, so might their fields increase;
Distrust he would not, for he did believe
God would redeem him with a safe reprieve,
Who promised that his seed (though death did rage)
Should have their Country for their Heritage;
While thus imagination had ingrost
His sense, and fancy thus divinely glost;
He calls his sons, to whom, you may suppose,
His smothered thoughts old
Jacob
did disclose.
My Sons, quoth he you know our Corn is spent,
And little's left either in Field or Tent,
Our plenty-pregnant sins have now at last
Brought forth a Dearth, the mighty
Protoplast
Mov'd by our monstrous sins hath strongly seel'd
The heavens with brass, and th'earth beneath hath steeled:
And Death and Famine two remorsless Mates,
Triumphing ride, and knock at all our gates;
Those dainties fail that fed our glutt'nous lust,
Our chalkie teeth have lost their unctuous rust,
Why do you whisper thus, why do you gaze
One on another? let your Lambkins graze.
There's Corn in
Egypt,
go and buy, my sons,
That we may live, we and our little ones.
You know our fruitful fields forbear to teem,
We starve, unless your speedy care redeem;
Go, and make haste my sons, your Brothers pain
Shall be redoubled till you come again;
Your Sheep shall feed upon their pleasant grounds,
No Goat shall rove beyond his wonted bounds,
No Dog shall fright, no rav'nous Beast pursue
With fearful flight a Kid or tender Ewe.
No dull delay could their intents adjourn,
But when stout
Chaunticleer
had wak'd the morn,
The careful Brethren with a rustic port
Knockt to fair
Memphis,
then to
Josephs
Court;
For he it was who did dispense the Corn
To those whom meager Death had made forelorn.
Anon to
Joseph
they themselves addrest
With great submission, and with lowly crest
The prostrate
Ten
unto his Lordship croucht,
In every look humility was couched,
Whom
Joseph
knew, yet he his passion checked,
And strangely views them with a stern aspect;
And thus began What are you, and from whence?
Under what clime have you your residence?
Quoth they Great Master,
Canan
is our home,
Hither to buy food are thy servants come.
Their lowliness remembering him the truth
Of his presaging Dreams while yet a Youth.
Now might pale rancor swell, revenge insult,
And malice might demand no common mulct,
And envy by that seeming Justice backed
Of like for like, might proudly now exact
Great recompense, a Dungeon well might sit
Their cruelty that doomed him to the Pit;
The law of Nature now might seem to crave
As they had him, so he should them enslave;
And in remembrance of their slouts, in scorn
Dismiss them hopeless, and deny them Corn.
Where envy is the memories Recorder,
Expect proceedings in remo
•
slless order;
But he never entertained
Her
as a guest,
Much less a Tenant, in his peaceful Brest;
Their sight his pity, not revenge begat,
His blood did dance for joy, not boil with hate;
Yet though his bowels did through passion yern,
As were his looks, thus his reproofs were stern.
Quoth he, what made you hither to repair
To leave your own, to breath a foreign air?
How careless is our guard? how have they watched?
That such suspicious Spies pass unattach'd?
Y'are Spies, our tortures shall the truth extort,
Why you thus saucily approach our Court;
You come to spy our weakness, you shall feel
What strength our Country hath, perhaps our Steel.
Our sins makes God seem strange, as clouds we see
Shrowd th'ey of heav'en, so sin God's heavenly ey;
Or if but seen his cheeks with an anger glow,
Wrath's on his ey thron'd, ruin on his brow,
And while they sin, as Traitors he attaints
Unto his Covenant, his dearest Saints.
The Brethren started at these thundering words,
The active blood within each body curds,
Quoth they, let not your Lordship this Impute,
Nor mis-interpret our unfeigned suit,
We all the tincture have of one man's blood,
Who hither hath us sent to buy some food,
And so let heaven with thy servants deal,
As we intend unto your Common-weal.
We'll have the truth of this upon the racks,
Quoth he, your suit, your Asses and your Sacks
Are mere pretences, you are all but Spies,
These specious colors cannot blind our eyes.
We're twelve, quoth they, and by one man begot,
The youngest is at home, and one is not,
We are no such, that to such ends do rome,
Hither to buy food are thy servants come;
Let not your Lordship trample misery;
Pitty a strangers privilege should be;
O do not censure, w'are so innocent
We scarce conceive what by your words is meant;
If want be treason, and to come to buy
Food be invasion, then we come to spy.
Y'are Spies, quoth he, vain words no longer urge,
They are too empty this your guilt to purge,
Since you no other voucher can produce
To prove your truth, but only this excuse,
My Sentence, like my words, none may revoke,
Send for that youngest Son of whom you spoke;
Unless that Brother prove your evidence,
By
Pharaohs
life ye shall not part from hence,
Send one, mean while ye shall be all restraind
To prove if that your words be true or feigned,
But if th'event convince you of a lie,
Why then by
Pharaohs
life ye come to spy.
Now were the Brethren all imprisoned.
Till thrice the Sun had left
Aurora's
bed;
When thus his Lordship spake. Sirs if y'are true,
Do this, I fear a God as well as you,
If your cause spring from an unfeigned source,
No false injustice shall divert its course;
If true, you blunt, if false, you whet the edge
Of our proceedings, leave one as a Pledge
Of our return, yet see you do not fail,
None but that Brother proves your pledges bayl.
Now conscience like a wound by time o'r-skin'd,
(Launc'd by the memory of what they'd sin'd)
Grew to an Ulcer, which seemed sound before,
And guilt, like
Titius
Vultur gripes the sore;
Crosses the Midwives to the conscience be,
From the gross womb of dull security;
As
Sols
fierce heat dissolves the ycic plain,
That drowns the murmur of the roaring main;
So crosses soon the frozen heart-strings thaw,
As if a flaming Hell were in the Maw,
Heart-gnawing Vultures gripes are not so fierce
As those, that do a frighted conscience pierce;
Like a fierce lightning which doth fry at once
The marrow, and incinerates the bones.
No Tyrants cruelty, nor are the phangs
Of rav'nous Beasts more horrid than those pangs,
Which now the Brethren knew, when that they felt
Their wounded hearts even in their Breasts to melt;
Brethren, quoth one would we could
that
forget
Which doth our conscience-seared heart-strings fret,
When we (O horrid piacle inroll'd
In heavens notaries) our Brother sold,
Tyrants had wept, but we would not condole
The bitter anguish of his troubled soul;
This Curse our Brother did to us bequeath,
Whom we undoubtedly betrayd to death;
The fact was heinous, and the sin most gross,
So here is rage for rage, and cross for cross;
Me thinks, as yet, his moans do pierce my ears,
My heart drops blood, fast as his ey wept tears;
Our scourging conscience more doth tyrannize,
Than did our rage upon so weak a prize.
This said, quoth
Reuben,
Brethren, spake, not I
(Soon as I heard your Plot your Tragedy)
Although I fortun'd not to intervene,
When you were acting of that rigid Scene.
O spare the Child, but you proved to my plea
As deaf and unrelenting as the Sea;
Bondage is
Bawd
to death, I fear whose knise
Made quick abridgement of his tender life;
We justly bondage fear, and which is worse,
His blood may challenge blood, a greater curse,
Little the Brethren thought that their remorse
Of Conscience, their language and discourse
His Lordship understood, whose meanings were
Deliver'd them by an Interpreter;
Who now no longer could his passion smother,
But as in Tydes one wave pursues another,
Oft ceasing not, till in their rolling ranks
They drown all Barriers and fencing Banks;
So at each circumstance his passion higher
And higher swelled, then did so high aspire,
That he retiring could not tears refrain,
But through his eyes discharged his troubled brain;
Who though the rain was past, would yet allow
Some frowning clouds to triumph on his Brow.
Anon quoth he returning to the room,
Your reason's woven in too thin a Loom,
To take our faith, my will by oath is sealed,
By vow my sentence not to be repealed;
Since you no other evidence a lege
To prove your truth, thus will I choose my pledge;
Before them all then
Simeon
was bound;
Even thus, quoth he, the truth I will justly sound
Of your intents, you gain no further grace,
Unless that younger Brother see my face;
That youngest Brother only shall redeem
This Brother bound then traffick with esteem.
Why do you whisper thus? speak, if your cause
Be just demur not thus,
Truth needs no pause.
Now had he charged the Steward of his Treasure
To fill their Sacks with Corn in bounteous measure,
To store them for the journey, and to pack
Their Money in the mouth of each man's Sack.
Their Asses loaden, now you may conceive
With humble promises they take their leave,
And lest old
Jacob
might through
their
delay
Do not lest
they
might prove an untimely prey
Unto some danger, lest his hopes might bleed
T'a lingering death they make the greater speed.
Now at his Inn as each his Ass did bait,
Opening their Sacks, their Money in full weight
Was in their Sacks mouth, much they did resent
With sad amazement that strange accident;
One doubted
Egypt's
spells, another feared
Th'abused
Medium,
which another cleared;
A third non-payment, and a fourth pursuit,
But all concluded in confused dispute;
But all grant 'twas an act that God had wrought,
Which should b'unravel'd far beyond their thought.
Conceive them now at home, where, you may ghess,
They tell their Father of their sad success;
Dear Sir, quoth one, the Master of the Land
Dealt roughly with us, and began to brand
Us with the name of Spies, as some that aimed
To search their weakness, which we all disclaimed,
We humbly all our suit for Corn infer'd
As witness of our truth, and more aver'd,
We're twelve, quoth we, and by one man begot,
The youngest is at home, and one is not;
Excuse, nor plea, could not maintain our cause,
But
He
th'advantage taking of that clause,
The youngest is at home,
thus aimed to prove.
Where we were such that to such ends did rove;
Quoth he, where either you speak truth, or feign,
I will do no more than Justice shall maintain;
Take for to nurse your houses and be gone,
And come not here without that youngest Son.
If y'have at home a Brother, as you spoke,
That labors with you under the same yoke
Of filial duty, if you here approach
Sans him, as Spies, no doubt, you now encroach;
And that you may conceive, how far your wit
Shall fail of our suspect you to acquit,
Let one of you, here, as your Pledge reside
Till your return, so shall your truth be tried.
You me, quoth mourning
Jacob,
have beguile'd
Of
Simeon
now, and
Joseph
whilst a Child;
And think you with this slight me to supplant?
To take his Brother? This I cannot grant.
At this, quoth
R
•
uben,
let my Sons be slain,
If I return thy son not safe again;
Both
mine
I will sacrifice unto thy rigor,
If that he come not home, in perfect vigor.
My Son, quoth
Jacob,
shall not hence go down
To be a prey to those of
Memphis
town,
The journey's dangerous, and at each pace
Death may arrest him with his Ebon Mace;
Oh be advised, my sons, when
Joseph
died,
My Soul near sail'd forth with his purple tide;
And should his Brother fail, the self same dart
Would cut the Cables of my an'chring heart,
Or weigh it from my bosoms anchorage;
Deliberate, take pity on my age.
Now
Jacob's
Corn was spent, and yet this year
Small show of future harvest did appear,
Who calling for his Children, thus began;
My Sons, quoth he, life, which some term a span
Dearth will toan inch reduce, and we shall wax
(Being Famine-sucked) as empty as our Sacks.
Again go buy some food, there's yet small hope
That th'heavens will their wonted fatness drop;
Your Brother shall take care, that while you want,
No rav'nous Beast near to your folds shall haunt.
At this, quoth
Judah, Egypt's
Master swore
He neither would our Brother bound restore,
Nor yet supply our wants, until thy Son
Appeard before his face as we have done;
If he be sent we'll go; since here are graves,
Why should we hence to dy
Egyptian
slaves?
Quoth
Jacob,
why spoke you of
Benjamin?
Now ill betide such an unnat'rall sin,
You might the matter with more judgment wave,
Unless you meant to hiss me to my grave.
Dear Sir, quoth they, with us
He
subtly dealt,
And roughly asked of us where we dwelt,
Then of our Kindred, and our Fathers life,
Then of the youngest son began the strife,
Who thought such strife would from these words arise,
The youngest is at home,
through his devise?
Dear Sir quoth
Judah,
if we thus divide,
We shall be guilty
all
of
suicide,
Since, though w'are brought unto those exigence,
God to prevent our Dearth the means presents;
Of me require him, may my hopes be racked
On all extremities, thy rage compact
With danger to o'rthrow me, may my name
Be henceforth branded with eternal shame
T'have slain my Fathers joys, if that the Swain
Be not safe to thy Bosom brought again:
If thou hadst sent him, which thou wouldst not grant.
We now had laughed with store, who weep through wan
•
Our Sacks that now exhausted are, and empty,
Replenish'd with our care had swelled with plenty.
Well then, quoth
Jacob,
since it must be so,
And that I must thus needs embrace my woe,
Go take a Present for the man,
the savor
Oft of a little brings the greatest favor.
He may your Brother from his Bonds release,
Send you replenished home, my Son in peace;
Take Nuts and Almonds, Myrrh, sweet Balm, and Ho
•
And lest there were mistakes, take double Money.
Dear Image of thy sweet deceased Mother,
Sweet relique of thy too too soon slain Brother,
By Natures secret and unknown instinct,
Thine
to my cords of life, are strongly linckt
In a firm Union, soon again return,
Lest soon thy absence hiss me to my urn.
Even as a friend who till his cy-strings fail.
Stands viewing of his Friend late under sail,
As if his feet unto the shore did grow,
First points him out as small as is a crow,
The mast to th' diminution of a hair,
Till all dissolved are quite from that to air.
So
Jacob
though his Suns began to set,
And that through age almost his ey-lids met,
Long correspondence with their motion kept,
Then out of sight he turned his head and wept.
Omit their weary journeys
tedium,
Cold fear already did their sense benumb,
For now they saw (so may your fancy prompt)
Fair
Memphis,
Arts chief pride, and Natures pomp▪
Who now with Country gates, and rustic greets
To the nice Citizens, knocked through their streets:
Then did they all to
Joseph's
Palace plod,
Each one approaching with a submissive nod;
Soon
Joseph
at first-sight his Brother knew,
Soon joy and fear their tears began to brew;
Then charged the Steward of the house to hast,
For they at night with him should take repast;
Long had they not attended, till a Groom
Conducted them into an inner room;
When Conscience to its former rigor grew,
And Fear of danger pierced the wound anew,
Fear made strange descants, and few could conclude
Why they, in manners rough, in habit rude,
Were used kindly thus, unless to cloak
Their close intents to seize them, and to yoke
Them as their slaves, or how God had disposed
About the Money in their Sacks enclosed.
Whereof they fearing now a rough inquest,
Themselves to
Joseph's
Steward thus addrest;
Sir, long it is not, since with full-stufft Sacks
We left the noise of
Nile
Cataracts,
Since we toyour Master ow'd, we are not brought
(Being Dearth exhausted) to our former naught,
But fears have mixed sweet joy with sow'r conceit,
We in our Sacks our Coin found in full weight;
Of this event we often have revolv'd,
Which yet stands undetermind, unresolv'd;
Pitty with casual errors oft dispenseth,
While cruelty mistakes, as fauls commenceth;
Unless we much mistook, our money weighed
In equal balances we truly paid,
Yet that we paid it, we will not aver,
For memory is frail, and we may err,
But faults are lost in the' name of Innocence,
Since what ere hap'ned'twas not meant offense;
Deceit could not advantage, since we knew
We shortly must our former suit renew,
Great Sir 'twas no imposture, for,
What stranger
Is so fool-hardy as to play with danger?
Then here accept your due, and grant our suit
On like Conditions for a new recruit.
Sirs, quoth the Steward, to remove your terror,
There was no false deceit, nor casual error,
I had your coin, nor will deserve the curse
To take th'advantage on a strangers purse;
I had good weight, as you had bounteous measure,
Then traffic with esteem, and trade at pleasure;
Your God, your Fathers God, whom you adore
Did each man's Money in his Sack restore;
None shall your persons hurt, your state impair,
Our actions, like your faces, shall be fair;
And you (his Lordship seldom grants this boon)
Must at my Masters table dine at noon;
Half all men's hearts are
His,
mil'd courtesy,
That wins each heart, sits smiling in his eye.
As token that his Lordship thus was pleased,
Their Brother
Simeon
was straight released,
Who, unattended with a ridgid Mace,
Was now saluted with a glad embrace;
Now were a little of their fears suspended,
And they to
Joseph's
House were all attended;
One brought in water with a courteous greet,
To wash their journey-dirt-bedaubed feet,
One dressed their Asses, in officious duty,
Another showed the Palace and its beauty;
All which, thus showed so far beyond their merits
They rather thought dreams of their troubled spirits
Than real objects, now they 'gan to shape
Them in their best attire, anew to ape
The seemliest postures, how they might present
The Token with a grace their Father sent,
Then all of Table courtesy combine,
Because they heard they with the Lord should dine.
Gladly did
Joseph
his affairs prorogue,
Now were defer'd the needy
Catalogue,
Imagine him returned to his house,
Where they with humble thanks, with hearty vows,
In great submission prostrate on their face,
Tender their Fathers Present to his Grace.
Sirs, quoth his Lordship, if I err not much
You are the same, or very like to such
Whom I as Spies suspected, if y'are ttue,
Present that youngest Brother to my view;
Oft-times hath
Phoebus
wheeled about his teem,
Yet you never came to gain your lost esteem,
And yet, I fear, the day is yet to dawn.
Wherein you will redeem again your Pawn.
Sir (quoth they, crouching) we at length have won
Our wary Father for to send his Son,
Our former callow hopes again are fledge.
That you to freedom will restore our pledge.
As yet quoth
Joseph,
doth that old man breath?
Hath Fate not yet betrayed him unto death?
Is death yet retrograde? hath yet your God
Unto your Famine set a period?
Great Sir, quoth they, our Father yet doth breath
Through heaven and you, but no triumphant wreath
Of full-ear'd Harvest crowns the Husbands brows,
Nor one smali Sheaf doth answer all our vows;
Our Father lives, though not with wonted heat
His heart with healthy vigor yet doth beat;
As yet he lives, unless his life be spun
To th'utmost thread, through absence of his Son;
By us he begs you, Sir, (though we are rude,
And though of language indigest and crude)
This present as the Interest toaccept
Of a more vast, and far immense a debt;
Is this, quoth
Joseph,
he of whom I sware,
That being owes, and life to the same care,
Of the same Sire with you? they, on their knee
Falling submissively, say this is he.
Let God, quoth
Joseph
from his bounteous treasure
Showr on thee blessings in a gracious measure;
I now my Censure willingly revoke,
Gladly release your brother from this yoke,
Untill your misery be retrograde,
You shall b'admitted here in peace to trade.
Y'are proof enough, y'are of an honest tribe,
What doth this Present mean?
I ruth needs no bribe.
Scarce could he Passion check, which would eruct
What he would have concealed, scarce obstruct
His tears, which now like billows raised by wind,
Disdain'd within their cells to be confind;
Which lest too soon they might excel his power
He stepped aside, and wept a plenteous shower;
Thrice had he washed his face, but tears did rise
Too great a channel for his conduit-eyes,
And he must stay their weeping, the extent
Of his large cells had too too small a vent:
Thrice, had he locked his door, but all in vain;
For through the flood-gates broke the silver rain;
Thrice, he in Passion, as he past the stair,
Did for his Brother hug the empty air:
Then must return, for tears again did trace
Their rivulets upon his blubbered face:
Scarce could he with his Passion take a truce,
Scarce could he stop his tear-betraying sluice;
His reeking cheeks, like Roses rain-bedasht,
Imagin from their stains at length were washed;
When Passions close recluse at length came down,
With looks importing, nor a smile nor frown,
None there despaired, through a stern reflect,
None by his pleasant looks might him suspect;
At his command the Table strait was spread;
The Dainties ushered by a grim death head;
Where
Joseph
by himself was served in state;
His honor had no rivall, knew no mate:
And
Egypt
'mongst all of the Universe,
With th'
Hebrews
might not eat, and scarce commerse.
Now as each Brothers age excel'd in date
Of years, each one above another sat;
The eldest was not Lord, nor th' young'st his Page,
But each took place according to his age;
To whom his Lordship sent to each a dish,
And so surpast at once, desert and wish;
And as, though clouds shroud
Titans
golden ray,
Through them, unseen, he doth dispense the day;
So
Joseph,
though thus strange, yet did dispense
Kind welcome through his favors influence;
As oft the Sun doth through those vapors pierce
That shroud his beauty from the Universe
So through his austere strangeness, oft there shined
Beams of unwonted favor, while they din'd,
On
Benjamin,
though few the cause could guess,
Why he was served with a five fold mess.
And though his Lordship by no means could brook
Excess his Butler, Luxury his Cook,
No
Kickshawe
wanting was, nor Courtly cate,
Which they enjoyed in peace and jolly chat.
Now heaven through grief of losing
Phoebus
light
In mourning darkness entertained the night;
And stars like to obsequious Tapors shined,
As if lamenting that
their Lord
declined;
When
Joseph
charged the Steward of his Corn
With early care toanticipate the morn;
Yer sleep the Howlets watchful sense benumbed.
Birds chirp their morning peals, or Beetle hum'd;
In plenteous sort to fill each Brothers Sack,
Till even they did with swelling plenty crack;
To give them for their journey and restore
In each ones Sack his Money as before;
And in the youngest Brothers Sack to knit
His silver Cup,
Love's waited on by wit.
Soon as
Aurora
wept her dewy drops,
And jocund day peer'd on the mountain tops,
The careful Brethren kindly were dismissed,
And when departing
Sol
the morn had kist,
His Lordship sent his Steward on pursuit
Of the late strangers to their charge toimpute
T'have stolen his Lordships Cup, and thus to gloss
With harsh expressions on a fault so gross;
That if his Lordships late unwonted care
Wrought no impression, yet how they did dare
T'abuse him thus, whose power like the Kings
Could reach far off like wide-stretched Dragons wings?
That not deliberation could of time
Nor close evasions excuse this crime;
That 'twas the Cup by which his Lord divin'd,
No weak conjecture of a doubtful mind.
This spoke, that by this means he might reduce
Them, on pretence to answer this abuse,
The careful Steward this command discharged,
And wisely on the premises enlarged;
Soon like a biting frost this fierce arrest,
Nipt all the hopes that budded on their crest;
Great Sir, quoth they why speaks my Lord these words?
They of our hearts dissect the tender cords;
God, who Heaven rules, and Hells infernal vault,
Knows we are innocent, free from this fault,
Fearing mistakes, we brought again our Coin,
Why should we Gold or Silver then purloin?
We'll this offense not with pretences gild,
Truth needs no color,
let his blood be swill'd
By the severest Justice at a sup,
With whomsoe'r is found his Lordships Cup.
Well, quoth the Steward, as you say, I will deal,
Your words are just, and I to them appeal,
With whomsoe'r his Lordships Cup is found.
Even as you spoke, he shall my slave be bound;
But ye shall all be free through innocence,
Since each must answer for his own offense;
At this each willingly his Sack unknit,
While each one sought himself for to acquit,
The Cup was found knit in the young'st his Sack,
At which even all their ey-strings seemed to crack,
So stars as shamed of day I have seen to wink,
So have I seen the Snail being hit, to shrink
Within his shelly penthouse, and now failed
Their eyes, as sudden grief their ey-balls veiled.
What should they say? for to deny the deed
Did seem a shift weak as a
Nile
reed
Which would both fail and hurt them, should they lie,
What should they do? who like a late-spawn'd fry
In the wild Sea, were subject to the prey
Of every greater fish, even so seemed they.
Sad
Benjamin
spared neither vows nor oaths
To back his innocence, each rent his clothes
And back in grief returned to the City
Submissively to crave his Lordships pity.
Guess them returned, to them the Lord begun,
What deed is this, quoth he, that you have done?
I gave you Wine, for which my Cup you stole,
Thought you I had not a divining Soul?
The fact is evident, then cease to quilt
A web of specious lies upon your guilt,
This aggravates what I of late suspected;
Heaven will not you should thus pass undetected.
Great Sir, quoth they, you justly may upbraid
Us with your love, we justly are betrayd,
The fact is clear, what shall we then allege
To clear ourselves? and who shall be our pledge?
We scarce have blood in all our veins, great Lord,
Enough to stain your Vice-revenging sword;
Creat Sir, we beg if bondage expiates,
Our Crime, then mercy rules among the Fates?
Nay, quoth the Lord, my heart's not Adamant,
No rocky Isle where such like
Furies
haunt,
Nor hath my Soul so liquorish a gust
That naught but blood can satiate her lust,
Mercy,
and
Justice,
here, are near a kin,
Our mercy here's still greater than the sin;
Think, I have pity on your Fathers age,
Nor will enslave you all in vassalage,
I will only recompense upon that Youth
That had my Cup, bonds, for his breach of truth.
No sore-tormenting
Probe
unto the quick
More deeply searched a wound, nor of the sick
No launcet hit more sure the master-vein,
Than did his Lordships words pierce through each swain,
Who ever thus, in terms accutely couched
Rub'd on the matter they would have untouched;
Some begged, some wept, and some confus'dly mutter'd,
Some indigested resolutions uttered,
At last, quoth
Judah,
humbly on his knee,
Great Sir, yet what you spake your vow decree,
Let not your anger flame, that I, so rude
In language, and in habit, thus intrude;
You asked when first we hither did repair,
Doth yet your Father breath the common air?
Have you alive a Brother more at home?
Our speech in devious falsehoods did not come,
But kept truths rode,
quoth we, Our Father's old,
Half wearied Fate doth yet her distaff hold,
We have a Brother more, a youthful page,
Whom
He
esteems the comfort of his age,
His Fathers joy, since his deceased Brother,
The only Son of his expired mother;
And since our Father's old, and lame, and dim,
He only walks, and breaths, and sees in him;
Then saidst thou, as a witness of your truth,
Bring down your Brother, let me see the youth;
Great Sir, quoth we, our Brother stands between
Death and our Fathers lamp as th'only screen;
And
He
removed our Sires declining snuff
Would soon b'extinguished by some envious puff;
Yet saidst thou to thy servants, bring the Child,
If that you will we shall be reconciled;
All this we to our Father did rehearse,
With the proceedings of our last commerce;
Our Corn exhausted there was long dispute
'T wixt Want and Nature, we renewed our suit
To him to send our brother, and at large
Importunately urged your Lordships charge;
So, quoth our father, were I most forlorn;
By
Rachaell
I had two children born,
Whereof one parting hence, became a feast
(Ay me!) I fear unto some rav'nou, Beast,
With whom fled half my life, then leave his Brother,
'Twere Paricide to take away the other;
O think, my sons, should you remove the prop
That stays my age, I in my grave should drop;
Were there a Crystal window in each Brest,
We know no more than what we have confessed;
Now should we home, and leave his son behind,
As with Prophetick doubts his fear divin'd,
Both hope and life would fail him, should I know
That I myself were the unhappy Bow,
Through whom false death aimed her remorsless dart
To the true mansion of my Fathers heart,
What should I do? that shall both guilty seem,
Both of my Brothers loss, and death of him;
I to my Sire was surety for the youth,
Have pity on his age, and on my truth.
When death, quoth I, my lamp of life shall quench,
May my good name dy in a noisome stench;
And with like vows I heaven did implore,
If I his son not safely did restore;
Then if my Lord please to reverse his doom,
I'd gladly serve bound in my Brothers room;
Great Sir, be pleased toadmit me in exchange,
I'd weary cruelty, and mock revenge,
I'd count deaths sentence but an idle breath,
Yer I'd seem guilty of my Fathers death.
Good Sir, have pity, I would dare to meet
A Thunderbolt wrapped in a lightning sheet,
Yet I'd provoke a Fathers angry gall,
Since
Parents curses are Prophetical.
As a new tuned Cask of unpurged Wine;
Wind pris'ned in the earth, or like a
Mine,
The one, if closed, will make a furious vent;
The other break forth in a thundering rent;
Such were his Lordships tears, such was his joy,
Which Passion though it long seemed strange and coy,
And fickle in the wooing, the end did prove
In it was couched a Brothers tender love,
Which he no more was able to resist,
Than the quick pulse that thumpt within his wrist;
And joy, like wind impris'ned in the earth,
Will shake th'hearts center but 'twill have a birth.
Now since he could no longer thus contest,
H'intended secretly tounlock his breast,
Shame, that's sins daughter, wert not for this care
Might here have proved the mother of despair;
Open reproofs, like an impetuous rain,
Do wash away, but not refresh the grain.
Now would he think to speak, and then retreat,
Then on the prize his heart a charge would beat,
And though the cause, as yet, obscurely slept,
Yet
Pharaohs
servants heard him while he wept;
At last he thus began, I
Joseph
am;
Is th' Oil yet spent that fed my Fathers flame?
This on the porches of their ears he beat,
But all in vain, that sense had left her seat.
And with the eyes, by horror scattered,
Had to the brain as an
Asylum
fled;
Yet being the kingly hearts chief centinells,
He
by degrees dismissed them from their cells:
For sense-bereaving horrors are like lees,
Which being once stir'd, will sink, but by degrees.
Now, when they something had expel'd their fears,
He
with these speeches board anew their ears,
I am your brother
Joseph
whom you sold;
Is yet my Father 'mongst th'alive inroll'd?
Come near, and see, I have no false reserves,
Come, on this visage spend your visive nerves,
I am the same as when you took my coat,
Though changed in hiew, and of a rougher throat,
Though heaven have changed my Fortune, years my stature,
Nor time hath changed my love, nor clime my nature.
Fear not, the fact though gross, shall not be blaz'd,
'It is from the book of my remembrance rac'd,
Then judge yourselves not rashly, bless the deed,
For I was promised to preserve your seed,
Two years are past, wherein remorsless dearth,
Hath knit the bowels of the teeming earth,
And yet these five years
Nile
in vain shall flowe,
The Husbandman in vain shall plough and sow;
Like a true
Alchemist
hath providence,
Drawn Honey from the Poison of offense;
You sold, God sent me hither, heaven be blest,
That turned your very sin unto the best;
Hast then, with winged swiftness, and infuse
Fresh spirits in our Father with this news,
Say thus, saith
Joseph,
whom thou thoughtest to be
Seal'd in the bosom of eternity;
Thus saith thy Son, who, by the common vogue,
Was thought one of grim deaths large catalogue;
Thus saith our Brother, here I am adored
As
Pharaohs
Father, and all
Egypt's
Lord,
Come down, thou with thy house, thy herds, and flocks,
Time limps away, methinks, with leaden socks
Untill thou come, accept of my advice,
Thine shall be
Goshen Egypt's
Paradise;
Let no delay this thy descent prorogue,
Lest Famine in a fatal
Epilogue
End thee, and thine; come, that with my Protection
I in some sort may answer thy affection.
The Sun five times shall pass through all his Inns,
Till dearth shall fully expiate our sins;
Mean while descend, and of my store partake;
Since heaven by me prepared it for thy sake.
Hast for your own sakes, that I may refresh.
And clothe your naked bones with tender flesh;
My words and actions have not divers centers,
Both end in one, but if upon the tenters
This stretch your faith, beside the foretold signs
Observe this visage and its wonted lines;
Sweet
Benjamin,
blest were th'
Astrologers,
If as I know these eyes, they knew the Starrs;
If so, though all events be closely sealed,
No doubt the future should be all revealed.
His Lordships speeches were no sooner ended,
But he and
Benjamin
together blended
Themselves in close embraces, both did lie
Entwined like the
Zodiacks Gemini;
As if they meant, lest we again should part,
Come, by the strings let's knit each others heart;
Their eyes now paid their long-retained debt,
Each on another's neck entwined wept;
That done, the rest with sweet inviting phrases
He even wearied in his close embraces;
Then kist them all, and
Chorus
-like inquired
Again, is not my Father yet expired?
God will be su'd to, who no other task
Imposeth on our wants, but this, to ask;
And though he seem long in majestic pause,
Not only not to hear, but slight our cause,
'It is but to edge devotion, to inhance
His Grace upon our Souls before he grants;
All distance then is changed to an embrace,
Wrath falleth as a Vizzard from his face,
He not defers, nor his affection smothers,
Nor doth disdain at all to call us Brothers;
As one that dreams he's falling from a steep
And tow'ring precipice into the deep,
Awaking finds himself free from such harms,
And taking safe repose in friendly arms:
Such were the Brethren's fears, and sad extremes,
Which now did seem but fancies and vain dreams,
When
Joseph
in their Passions
Extasie
Reviv'd their senses from their
Lethargy;
With sundry Passions were at once their minds
Like a Ship tost 'twixt two opposing winds;
Now would they joy, then grief, by shame being backed,
Their new resolved greetings would distract;
The tears from divers springs seemed to proceed,
Which they not so much seemed to weep, as bleed;
Within their brain two floods at once arose,
Of joy, and grief, as when two Seas oppose;
Some wept, some weeping smiled, like
Aprils
weather,
Which rains, then shines, then rains and shines together.
Now were they all resolved to regreet
Their Brothers courtesy, but as a fleet
Which coming near the harbor, back is thrust
Into the Ocean by some angry gust,
Shame would retard intention, some would smother
In silent whispering the name of Brother;
Glad
Reuben
though he gave to God the glory,
Yet blest persuasion, and his oratory,
And
Judah
though he sold him, yet was bold
To say he joy'd, though grieved he thus was sold.
Now they confessed his Dreams no vain
Phantasms,
But heavenly, and inspired
Enthusiasms,
Their Sheaves and Stars had bowed, the saucy Boy
Was now
their
Lord, and
Egypt's
chief
Vice-roy;
Glad
Benjamin
admiring the results
Of their immanity, thus now exults,
A Brother lost, and found, is worth like mirth,
As if you joyed at a Brothers birth;
Come then let's triumph, for who could expect
From this so bad a cause so good effect?
To hear the Lord speak; how he was re-sold,
How often fashioned in afflictions mold,
His Chastity, which with a full mouthed blast
Shall fill Fames trump as long as time shall last,
How he ran Chance as blind as ever painted,
Yet he by adoration thus was Sainted
In men's opinions, would make a dint,
And deep impression in hearts of flint;
For joy some swounded, and each circumstance
Of each relation struck them in a trance,
Each passage made each minutes time the mother
Of some new joy so one joy crowned another;
Had th'whole world seen each act, heard each rehearsal,
No doubt the joy had here been Universal.
T'express the triumph fully would extort
Descriptions treasury, undo report.
Now tell-tale Fame hath with a nimble wing
Proclam'd these tidings to the Court, and King,
Who thus to
Joseph,
placed next his Throne,
We to thy Fathers care, thy Mothers groan,
All owe our lives, nay more, for to him seeng
Thou being ow'st, we owe him
all
well being;
Now since he liveth, and the fatal Star
That blasts our Kingdoms plenty, spreads so far
Her fatal influence as
Canaan's
clime,
Send for thy Father, on our Souls this crime
Shall not write
guilt,
that
He
amidst our store
Should faint,
whom
for thee, all are bound toadore;
To
Him
alone for thee all
Egypt's
bound
So deep, more than conceit hath line to sound;
Thy duty shall join issue with my will,
Since his one life exceeds the num'rous Bill
So far, that daily doth attend our gates,
As doth one
Phoenix
life whole clouds of Gnats;
Thus by thy Brethren say, we, youth, and dotage,
Both lofty Palace, and the lowly cotage,
Owe thee, the Father of a Son so blest,
More than by
Hieroglyhick
can b'expressed;
Thus saith the King, let not thy thoughts be gravel'd
In doubts, thy
Joseph
who my Dreams unravell'd,
Which all our
Sophies
did in vain examine,
Shall nourish, and protect thee in this famine.
Which though it have set limits to my wish,
And scarcity doth season every dish,
Delay not thy descent: for thou deservests
The greatest measure of our sev'n years Harvests.
This to thy Brethren say, go take the best
That
Egypt
yields, and lead each man his beast,
Since that remorslesse dearth to death proscribes
Your aged Father and his hopeful tribes,
Think
Egypt's
King for
Joseph's
sake deplores
Your empty Wine-presses and threshing-floors;
Go, bring your Father down, if
Egypt's
Map.
Have land whose poares breath a more vigo'rous sap
Than
this,
that is more fertile and more pleasant,
Come down, none shall resist thee,
Peer
nor
Peasant;
This say, and for thy Fathers ease take Waggons,
And for thy Brethren, spare no sprightly Flaggons
To ratify their welcome, since with them
Thou art a Branch sprung from the self same stem.
Glad
Joseph
was that
Pharaoh's
thus inclined
To what before he had himself designed;
Envy could not upbraid his want of love,
So much he did the means, and time improve,
Scarce
Morpheus
could at all betray his sense,
But care would counter-charm
His
influence,
When bright
Hyperion
mounted
Phlegons
back,
He gave command to fill each Brothers Sack,
To all he gave provision, lest the length
Of the large journey, should exceed their strength;
To each (remitting their unnat'rall quarrel)
He bounteousty gave changes of apparel;
To
Benjamin,
besides five change of raiment,
Three hundred silverlings in courteous payment;
To
Jacob
thus, a choice
Viaticum,
And to reward his Mirrhe, Spice, Balm, and Gumm,
Ten Asses load of those best things, in which
Egypt
is held most happy, and most rich,
And ten she Asses load of Corn;
close thrist
Seems base, where princely duty walls a gift.
Their Asses ready, and their justling Waggons,
Lest that our
Joseph's
(should like
Cadmus
Dragons
Fierce teeth-sprung Brethren) when they failed in words,
Dispute the matter with their angry swords,
While each one to acquit himself attempted,
Who from that former rage was most exempted,
At least, they might expect to be surprised,
The lot of quarr'ling strangers not advised,
As a small Fleet, who, in a foreign Sea,
While each ship would maintain a private plea,
And rudely mutiny amongst themselves,
Is sunk, surprised, or dashed against some shelves;
For fear of which events you may conjecture,
Joseph
thus to his brethren reads this lecture;
You may remember, but I wish that it
You could so soon forget, as I remit,
When you conspired my destruction,
As if your hearts were gravel'd into stone,
Or rib'd with steel, congeal'd toan Iron mass,
Yet though your Bowells thus were cramt with Brass,
Mine now are soft with pity, may you find.
As here of body, always peace of mind;
Confession cancells all, and I accept
Acknowledgement, as if you pai'd the debt;
Your pardon is with many favors sealed,
Which time shall never see canceled, age repealed;
For which grant this one favor, 'tis but one,
That you forget the wrong that you have done,
I, in oblivion have lai'd it deep,
Then digit not up again, but let it sleep;
Both for your Fathers, mine, your safeties sake,
Drink, to it all a draught of
Laethes
Lake;
Take my example, 'twas I had the wrong,
'It is I that for your reconcilement long;
Since I forgive it, in dissentious sort
Do not one on another it retort?
Dissent not in the way, lest that you teach
Strangers to take advantage on the breach;
Advise with Policy, if not with Love;
Nay, with the Serpent, if not with the Dove;
Serpents will not sting Serpents, nor will crush
The Cockatrices egg, then Brethren blush,
That Reason's law to that of sense subscribes,
Should Brethren quarr'll with Brethren, Tribes with Tribes?
With such advice as
This,
you may suppose
Our careful
Joseph
did his farewell close.
Even thus our Savior yer his last he breathed,
Peace, his last
Legacy,
to
his
bequeathed;
Who, if he now should come, would look to find
Us, as he left us, of a peaceful mind;
And if both Poles did now to ruin reel,
Did th'world its pangs of dissolution feel,
Would
he
not find, adherents did increase
More to the Prince of discord than of peace?
While that old
Jacob
fervently did burn
In expectation of his Son's return,
Ghesse them come home, who to their Father thus,
The Sum of their proceedings did discuss;
Dear Sir, you causelessly accused Fates knife
To have bereft thy
Joseph
of his life;
Unless that
she
again have knit his cord,
For
he
yet liveth and's great
Egypt's
Lord.
My Sons, quoth he, my Meditation chewes,
And dubiously doth ruminate your news,
O be advised, when my
Joseph
died
My tears stow'd high, even at their highest tide
But if you mock my grief, I drown in tears,
My heart of
Joseph
an impression bears
Too deep to be forgot, inhaunce not grief,
Lest you incur a Curse, not win belief.
Dear Sir, quoth they, what's by these Waggons meant
There's twenty Asses load that he hath sent
As dutious Pledges? those our change of clothes,
But if these fail, believe us on our oaths.
So now, quoth he, these evidences draw
My Faith as strong, as Vouchers do in Law;
Speak thick till th'vapors of your breath condense
Even to the smoth'ring of my hearing sense;
I have surfeited with sorrow, but this joy
Is so transcendent, it can never cloy,
My soul would hence, and leave her truth behind,
How she disdaineth thus to be confind!
My senses seem too weak to hinder her,
But she would hence my winged harbinger;
O for some Eagles pinions, or some Dragons
With wide-stretched wings to waft along our Waggons;
Their motions are too dull, O would their wheels
Were swift as
Titans,
or the slippery Keeles
Which with a Sphere-tike swiftness cut their way
Through the wide Bosom of the yesty Sea;
I will down and see my Son, and yield my breath
In
Jos
•
ph's
bosom, and then welcome death.
Conceive him on his journey, with his train,
When in the Visions of the night, his brain
Received the
Ordinance
of
Pharaoh's
love
Confirmed to an
act
from heaven above;
And sealed with promises that God would bless
This his removal with a good success;
And with assurance that he had decreed
The safe returning of his num'rous seed,
Guesse
Judah
likewise sent for to direct
His Fathers face to
Goshen,
then reflect
Your thoughts on
Joseph,
who you now may gather
In gallant equipage did meet his Father,
Imagine with what triumph at the last
Earth-rending sound, and tomb-dividing blast,
The widow'd Soul will welcome the return
Of her dear Body from the sleepy urn;
With such like joy, your fancy may admit,
Were
Joseph
and his Father sweetly knit
In twin'd embraces, as if they each other
Would cramp in chained arms, or meant to smother
Each other in their kisses; hast thou ever,
Beheld a Gardner while he did discover
Two sprigs asunder, then to join by craft
Two divers parts in one entired graft;
Even thus was
Jacob
twined with his Son,
As if they meant to grow again in one;
Jacob
could only with glad tears dispute;
For as great sorrow's dumb, great joy is mute;
Even so did
Joseph,
at his Brethren's sight
His eyes but drizled, now they rained down-right;
For tears are badges both of joy and sorrow,
Both Passions do alike the visage furrow;
Dear God, quoth
I acob,
then in num'rous chace
Tears pursue tears upon his reeking face
Blest heaven that always thus dost me restore,
Unless 'twere heaven I could wish no more;
Sweet Son, I know these eyes, this rosie cheek,
That thus in dutious tears doth sweetly reek,
Since yet thou liv'st, Fate finish out my glome,
And let my Soul on wings of joy fly home,
But yet, my darling Son, great heaven forgive,
If I for thee do yet desire to live;
My tears shall tell the rest, my lungs are weak,
If not, I know not what I more shall speak.
Sir, quoth his Son (then tears in a full stream
Choakt the proceedings of his dutious theam)
Dear Sir, my swelling Brest will burst a sunder,
Like wind-swoll'n Clouds rent by the heavens thunder,
My mouth a vessel of a narrow bore,
That must by slow degrees vent forth its store,
Though pay I cannot what your love deserves,
Yet to requite I will stretch my utmost nerves,
Since Seas repay, through crannies of the earth,
Streams to the Springs from whence they had their birth,
Then why should Chilkren if advanced by Fate,
Neglect their Parens in a meaner state?
But yet I boast not, that my power is such,
But joy, I'ave means toexpress my love so much;
Though heaven have freed me from the slavish yoke
Of heavy bondage, that he hath not broke
Of filial duty,
this
that thus doth deck
With gaudy Ornament my gorgeous neck,
I count less honor, than that dutious bond
In which I serve thee; do not then despond;
I Father am to
Pharaoh,
but will be
A true, observant, dutious Son to thee;
No bleer-ey'd sorc'rers, nor
Egyptian Weirds
Shall hurt your persons, wrong your Flocks or Herds,
Thy crown of silver hairs I will ever hold
In greater honor, than his Crown of gold;
Honors null not relation,
th'Oceans flood
Alters not
Nile,
nor can honor, blood,
It tickles oft the temper with conceits,
But as for me, honor on duty waits;
I'
•
l go before, and as your true Attorney
Possess the King of your intents and journey;
My Father, and his household, flocks and droves,
Have late left
Palestinu's
Sun-parched groves,
And down are come, whose cognizance of old,
Both was, and is, a sheephook and a fold,
Which should his Grace demand, speak, I beseech,
According to the tenor of my speech,
And since th'
Egyptians
ever entertain
A Shepherd, both with fury and disdain,
You may in
Goshen
safely live, and trade,
Where for your Flocks are Pastures, Wells and Shade.
And thus you may, if thus you wisely deal,
Instate yourselves in
Egypt's
Common-weal.
When Love with Policy had thus conspired,
Imagine
Joseph
to his charge retired,
Where he without a dilatory pause,
Thus to his Sovereign, pleads his Fathers Cause;
Dread Sir, what am I? a dead dog, or flea?
That thou shouldst grant my suit, or hear my plea?
Who first thy favors didst to me impart,
And then lookst on me worthy of desert,
To all which wouldst thou add this one request,
I'd count it greater far than all the rest;
My Father, and my Brethren late are come,
And have left
Canaan
their native home,
Their stomachs bark for food, their bodies lean,
Their looks are meager, and their teeth are clean,
And Dearth more fierce than either Wolf or Fox,
Hath from the Pastures scarr'd their Heards and Flocks,
Which with them they have brought, and all to prove
The promised bounty of his princely love,
That while Dearth falls unto her lowesteb,
Their threads of life may to a peaceful web
Of safety here be spun, whose hearts do pant
In expectation of thy Princely grant.
This ended, quoth the King, My darling Prince,
I rather will enlarge, than basely mince
My promise to evasions, I applaud
Thy filial love, nor power shall, nor fraud,
Oppose, or circumvent you, no, my gem,
I love the Branch, nor will neglect the stem;
Since I sent for him, he and his affairs
Held room in equal with my choicest ears.
Joseph
triumphing at these blest events,
Five of his Brethren to his Grace presents,
To whom, quoth
Pharaoh,
by what labors sweat
Have you your sustenance, are clothed, and eat?
Do you the Sullow hold, or tug the Oars?
What trade expels your vigor through your poars?
Dread Sir, quoth they, we are but simple worms,
Or such like creatures of despised forms;
Yet not to grate thy ears with vain digression,
Ours, and our Fathers trade, is by succession
To feed our Flocks, and so by careful thrift
Our providence enlargeth heavens gift;
We feed them, they feed us, and lest we freeze
In Winter time, they clothe us with their fleece;
When
Phoebus
first displays his golden locks,
We send abroad our Heards, dismiss our flocks,
And while he cheers the world, with careful hook
We them protect, defend, and overlook;
And when the Sun again withdraws his gold
From th'Western hills, we pin them in our fold;
We are by famine from our homes divorc'd
No idle vagrants, but are sadly forced;
We
〈◊〉
in vain for Springs, our Wells are sunk
Down to the Center, and our Earth is shrunk
And back'd to stony clods, whose chaps in vain
Gape for the showers of refreshing rain;
Now we entreat thee in this time of Dearth,
That art the only Father of the earth,
Let us in
Goshen
live, where both are Rocks
Fi
•
for our Goats, and Pasture for our flocks;
We'll in the Land not plant ourselves, nor build,
But sojourn in our Tents as strangers should,
We'll all b
•
•
uled by thy Country laws,
And with our labors feed our hungry maws;
At
•
his, quoth
Pharaoh,
Sirs, do not despond,
To such it were no weakness to be fond;
Your Brother makes you nigh as if each vein
Swell'd with
•
igh blood, and of a nobler grain;
Nature none equals unto me in blood,
Who shall partake more freely of our food,
Then shall your Father, and yourselves, I grant
You may in
Egypt
freely build and plant;
This said, thus unto
Joseph
he insists,
Dear
Joseph,
I, my Peers, and princely Priests,
Thy Fathers coming do congratulate,
And likewise with thee, all condole his Fate,
Yet though the Sun shoot forth his scorching beams,
The air distill gross dew, and rotten streams,
Our Fields forbear to spring, our Trees to bud,
And
Nile
desist to yield his fruitful mud;
As if the Skies, had with the earth combind,
To act the ruin of all human kind;
My
Genius
tell me, and I more than hope
Thy Fathers, and each Brother
Horoscope,
With kinder aspect, happier things foretold,
And that 'tis in Fates Notaries inroll'd,
That
Egypt
is designed (without dispute)
Their safe
Asyle,
from Famines fierce pursuit:
All
Egypt
is before thee, if our Land
Have any part untouched by Famines band
Of scourging plagues, as
Goshen
most is known,
Let them possess that Country as their own,
They shall not be as Meteors for a time
Exhal'd, but as fixed Stars in
Egypt's
clime:
And if thou knowest one fit to feed my Herd,
Let him unto that Office be preferred.
This said, old
Jacob
by his careful Son
Was brought, and placed near to
Pharaohs
Throne;
Where, having breathed on the King, and Peers,
A blessing both of Peace, and many years,
Grave, Sir, quoth
Pharaoh,
we our thanks retort,
And welcome thy descent unto our Court;
Thy dutious Son was for his Father zealous,
I and my
Peers,
were of thy safety jealous,
Lest Famine having draind our Fields, and Cells,
Should leave you, like so many barks and shells,
Sans coar, or kernel, cease thou to request,
Live boldly on thy
Joseph's
Interest.
Who sees the Sun, but reason wills for shame
To praise the Author of that glorious flame?
And who survives his neighbor in those days
Who for the Son will not the Father praise?
Thou hast a Son whom all the world must prize,
Less worth hath been adored with Sacrifice;
An Angel sent from heaven, could not have done
More than preserved us all, so hath thy Son;
'T was he, that when all Charmers were nonplust,
Enchanters all were dumb, my Dreams discust,
All Sorcery as husht, now with their Spells
Let them recruit their Garners, and their Cells;
Astrology's
undone, now let them dine
On joints of
Taurus,
or some empty sign;
I will make no nice enquiries, I have had
A full rehearsal of thy life and trade.
Thus thou wouldst speak, but I anticipate
Thy sad complainings, which would thus debate;
That as
Deucalions
flood drowned all the Earth,
Some fear lest it dispeopled be by dearth;
That your Earths chaps yawn like so many graves
To swallow you, unless that plenty saves,
That Famine's grown a Monster of huge stature,
Which not with few content, exacts on Nature;
Since plenty, as if Bankrupt of her store,
Keeps private house in
Egypt,
you implore
Thy
Joseph
being her Steward, she would daign
T'accept thee, and thy sons, amongst her train;
I will not impose upon thy lungs a task
Of large, long-winded answers, but this ask
Since Nature in thee fails, thy eyes decline,
And in thy two-leave'd Spheres withdraws their shine;
And each decaying part doth seem to crave
With bended ham of every land a grave;
How long wasit since thy Souls inspired flame
Possession took of this declining frame?
Dread Sir, quoth
Jacob,
rudeness, are, and age
Unfit to act upon a Kingly stage,
A hundred, and full thirty years I have seen,
Both few, and evil, all my days have been;
Nor have I yet attained to the age
Of my fore-Fathers in their Pilgrimage;
Though I am ancient, I may truly say
Sorrow, as well as age, hath made me gray,
'It is grief postdates my time, which 'twere but vain
To think that joy can antidate again:
An ounce of grief emacerates the flesh
More than a pound of joy can it refresh,
Sol
sooner may regrade his morning track,
Than joy can change this gray to youthful black;
If I have a Son, whom all, of all degrees,
From those that fry, even unto those that freeze,
Under their Zones, are bound to praise, and love,
Impute it not as his, but God's above;
Let not the Husbandman give to the clod
That glory, which is only due to God;
Yet if his merit be so much, and more
Than he can be made Bankrupt of, w'implore
That you would lay it, (if our charge surmount
Your expectation) on my Sons account.
This said, again on them he blessings breathed,
And them, departing, to his God bequeathed;
And glad he brought his wishes to this close
Resigns himself as
Joseph
should dispose.
Ghess him in
Goshen
next, where he immerds
The fruitful Pastures, with his Flocks and Heards;
I'th' Land of
Ramisses
he lived, a soil
Which Famine could not of its vigor spoil;
And though it laughed not, now, with kinds of grains,
It smiled with Pastures to delight our Swains.
To him by
Joseph
all respect was shown;
No Manumissive
Corbon
yet was known
To
Supersedeas
a Son, for he
Still gave, yet never esteemed himself as free;
No, though he cherished had his age, as long
As
He
by him was nourished being young;
For filial duty's God's command, no
Bull
Can it repeal, no Vote can change, or null,
No wit, or art reverse it, no man's joint
Carv'd it, 'twas sculptur'd by
his
fingers point
That published it by thunder, and
His
bolt
Or worse, shall vengeance take on their revolt
That dare oppose it, for they who explode
Duty to Parents, next will theirs to God.
Old
Jacob's
Cells were stored with Wine, and Corn,
As full and free, as was that plenteous Horn
Jove
gave his Nurse, even such was
Joseph's
love
Unto his Father, great as that of
Jove;
Nor time, nor charge could dull it, even so
Wells if you draw them, will the freer flow.
Nor was our
Joseph's
duty only such,
But to his Brethren was his love as much;
Though for their former rage he once seemed strange,
Yet now they found in him a bounteous change,
As pardon is the daughter of Contrition,
So love's the common issue of remission;
He, who was like the Sun, that could dispense
Upon the mean'st his bounteous influence,
Could not neglect the
Stars,
could not deny
Unto his Brethren's want his gracious eye;
Not like to some, whose proud advanced height,
Looks on all other men as out of sight,
As fixed in higher Sphears, out of the view,
And the
Horizon
of the common crew,
As if conceit of honor with th'affection,
Had likewise changed the temper and complexion;
But
Joseph
thought it honor to descend
His Brethren's Father, and his Fathers friend.
Now more and more the Dearth began to rage,
Advancing on in horrid equipage;
New maladies outbrav'd the
Physicks
skill,
And desp'rate murder acted now its will,
Faintness had some confined to their Beds,
As if Dearth meant to ravell out their threads,
Or if she scorned the common way, by knife,
And meant tountwind their fatal glomes of life;
The Barns were empty, where was naught, unless
The mournful Owl, to wail their emptiness;
The gaudy gallants spirit now grew dull,
And wished a Garner for his Wardrobe full;
His
Robes
no better than the Beggers
rags,
The poor man's
Scrip
good as the rich man's
bags;
Though Gold be cordial, it but to the sight,
But a sad meal to hungry appetite;
The clown that thought that metal was divine,
Had rather find a
Garner
than a
Mine;
Were
Nole
a
Tagus,
and each fand in the' stream,
Such stones whereof
Philosophy
doth dream;
Yet
Midas
now, would gladly change his wish
For roots, or Acorns, or so mean dish;
The Harvests pass, the Clown no longer reaps,
But now his Husbandry lay all in heaps;
O'r-grown with Burrs, rough Thistles, Docks, and Sedges,
The Culter rusted, and the fruitful Hedges
Now with disordered boughs grew perewigg'd,
None plow'd, pruned, planted, sowed, manured, or dig'd;
Dearth so purvei'd for Death, now were the rodes
Wherein they justled with their plenteous loads,
So much o'r-grown, through scarcity of men,
Each fearful Beast there boldly made his den;
Each house as empty stood, the owner's dead,
As were their Bodies, now their Souls were fled;
Each look so meager, none could know, almost.
Where 'twere the man that walked, or else his Ghost,
Who, now with weakness, bowed their feeble hams
Like late-earnd Lambkins, yer they sucked their dams;
The Ox in the' Commons motionless did lie,
The Gum down-roping from his pale dead eye,
The Cow lob'd down her head, the raw-bon'd Ass
His mouth was foul with half-chew'd roots of grass,
Each Beast half starved, drooping the side, and hip,
Not moving for the Scourge, goad, spur, or whip;
Unto the Cities there was no resort
Except of Crows, who tore in knavish sport
Their dead, and still, impatient of delay,
Rookt on the house tops, waiting for their prey;
Their streets o'rgrown with rubbish, seemed toexpress
Unto the eye a civil wilderness;
So pining Dearth had shriv'led each ones skin,
With looks distorted they did strangely grin,
Which when they viewed in glasses, and in brooks,
Amazedly they startled at their looks;
In fine, a task that lames both tongue, and pen,
All nothing, but the shales, or husks of men;
This while, had
Egypt
for all kind of grains
Exchang'd their Coin, their Jewels, and their Chains,
All which our loyal
Joseph
never wrests
To his own use, but adds to
Pharaohs
Chests,
This store exhausted, you may ghess for bread,
Thus the
Egyptians
to
Joseph
plead;
Dread Sir, great
Pharaoh's
darling,
Egypt's
Saint,
Vouchsafe a patient ear to our complaint;
We have for Corn exchange'd our coin and gold,
And yet Dearth rageth as your Grace foretold;
Our Barns are empty, not through our default,
Nor hath an en'my sowed our Fields with Salt;
None enviously have choked our Fields with stones;
None of these things are authors of our moans;
Great
Nile's
offended, and no wonted shout
Awakes the
Echo,
since no flood ran out
Through his fat banks, cut by our num'rous troops,
No,
Nile
within his shallow channel stoops;
Our Money faileth, and who will not hold
A grain of Corn well worth an ounce of gold?
Our hopes are faild, and when the main-spring Hope
Is out of tune, the lesser wheels will stop
Of joy and pleasure; yet we'll not desist,
Since in thee bounty hath with goodness kist.
Think on thy honor, let it not be said
That we now perish, whom you first didst aid;
Redeem us from the jaws of Death, which boon
Will make thy fame shine bright as
Titans
noon.
Sirs, quoth the Lord, my troubled heart doth languish
In true imagination of your anguish;
Yet though I you condole, I hope each knows
That I dispense as
Pharaoh
doth dispose;
Yet will he grant (such is his mild remorse)
Corn in exchange for Heards, and teams of Horse.
Glad was all
Egypt,
nor at all defer'd
T'accept his love, each brings his team and heard;
On which exchange they lived this year, yet pind
In sad conceit of two years yet behind,
More then with food refreshed; so ranging Deers
Fear more emacerates, than plenty cheers.
The year being ended, which as in a ring
It self within itself again doth bring,
Sad
Egypt
having all their cattle spent,
Which Industry had got, or Fortune lent,
Ghess them in a full press, with bended ham,
And prostrate faces, unto
Joseph
came;
Great Sir, quoth they, now this is the third time
We have appeald to thee, and yet no prime.
Is
Nile
after so many years effluxions,
Th'earth weary grown after so oft productions?
And so expects like an exhausted soil
A rest and respite from the wonted toil;
Our Share tusts, and our tools that dig'd the earth
Hang like some
Trophies
dedicate to dearth;
Each body here's her
Obelisk,
that bears
Her triumph Grav'd in meager Characters;
Since
Pharaoh,
first, our Cause to thee referred;
There's none but hath exchange'd his Teem and Herd,
We not a Beast detain, there's none, great Prince,
That can thy servants of such fraud convince,
Now if our persons may, and each ones land
Ioyn'd with thy love, in equal balance stand
With one years diet more, we have to boast,
Nor will as yet esteem ourselves as lost;
So
Pharaoh
shall a double title have
In each one, of subject, and a slave;
View but these looks well, thou wilt not demur,
Nor will thy pity need another spur,
Thou art our nostrils breath, why should we dy,
The breath of all our nostrils being by?
And since now's the last year, by fate decreed
That Dearth shall rage, we further beg some seed
To sow the land, that it may be reduced,
Which in its ancient
Chaos
lies confused.
Sirs, quoth our Lord, my heart with you condoles
The bitter anguish of your troubled Souls,
Yet 'twere a sin in me beyond excuse,
Should I not all dispence to
Pharaohs
use,
Yet as I pity what you have disclos'd,
So will I grant you what you have proposed;
Ghess
Joseph
now for
Pharaoh
wisely changes
Bread for their Fields, their Manors and their Granges,
And with the Citizens for
Pharaoh
Barters,
For Corn, their Houses, Liberties, and Charters,
And that their lands and rights might all be known
By some clear evidence as
Pharaohs
own,
Th'
Egyptians
were to Cities far removed;
To the lands end, so
Pharaohs
right was proved,
Yet the Priests lands, and
I sis
Princely
Flamines,
Became not
Pharaohs
nor the greedy Famins;
As if 'twere Sacrilegious extortion,
Even in this Panic sale to buy
their
portion;
Nor were they famished, for
Pharaohs
stores
They made as bold with, as their threshing floors;
And which, those Priests who, then, served
I sis
Cow,
Or they that serve the Lamb of heaven, now,
Are worth most honors? reader, fear, and pray,
Lest
Pagans
judge us at the latter day.
Ghess
Egypt
now, were in a full convention
By
Joseph
summond then to soft attention,
To whom, quoth he, Sirs there is none but knows,
And will acknowledge still, with thankful vows,
That y'are preserved, not by common Power,
Since
Fate,
and
Fortune
on you all did lower,
If
Pharaoh's
bounty did not intervene,
Your Play were mar'd now in the latter Scene;
And you, like long-tossed Vessells, should fall short,
And drown within the kenning of the Port;
Now so will
Pharaoh
as you do importune,
In true commiseration of your fortune,
Not out of Avariee for to supplant,
But out of pity to supply your want;
Beit then in
Egypt's
Notaries inroll'd,
That y'have your lands, and selves to
Pharaoh
sold,
Lo, here is seed, go, sow the land in peace,
Which with its former vigor shall increase;
Whereof a fifth part you shall grant the King,
You now being safe under his Graces wing,
You for your household shall the rest reserve,
To nourish them,
Bread's natures chiefest nerve.
This he Enacted, and a Statute sealed,
Which to this day's not cancel'd, nor repealed;
At this quoth
Egypt,
most renowned Prince,
Whose truest
Hieroglyphic
were a
Lynce,
For as with
him
compared, each creature's blind,
Each spirits dark to thy enlightened mind;
Nature (the worlds great Soul) must needs confess
Thee alone her preserver, th'world must bless
Thee the sole cause, thy pity and remorse,
That Dearth on both, now acts not a divorce;
To thee we owe, we here converse with men,
And not with Ghosts, in deaths unsavory den;
Thee, that our Wives by her impartial Bawd
Not ravished are for death; we praise, we laud,
Thee, that our children, like so many elves
Shrink not to naught, but yet look like themselves,
Admit us safe, under thy Graces wing,
Renowned Prince, so will we serve the King.
Grant now that debt that
Adam
did engage
All men in, Death hath claimed of
Jacob's
age;
Who swearing
Joseph
to transport his bones
Hath breathed his last in blessings on his Sons;
Grant
Joseph
next, by general suffrage
Attended on in mourning equipage,
His Fathers corps (to
Canaan
brought) interred
In
Machpelah,
so of his oath was clear'd.
When
Jacob
thus had deaths arrest obeyd,
Conscience within the Brethren 'gan toupbraid
Their old offense anew, thus guilt would plead;
Their Brothers hate but slept, though it seemed dead,
Occasion now might wake it, the end might prove,
That with their Father, died their Brothers love;
That wounds are dang'rous when they inward bleed,
And if their Brother all this while should feed
Upon revenge, since full rage now had vent,
It's poys'nous rancor should on them be spent.
Fear by guilt raised seldom is remiss,
Till in conclusion hope and pardon kiss;
Nor were our Brethren negligent, but strove
To gain firm int'rest in their Brothers love;
Yet so conceit had of their weak demerits
Dissolv'd their courage, and outbrav'd their spirits,
That they came not, but sent, nor durst they frame
The message in theirs, but their Fathers name,
Know'ng if their suit in
Jacob's
name were couched,
'T would like a Charm, not cease till it had touched
Their Brothers midriffs with remorse, 'twould wrest
A soft remission from his melting Brest;
Great Sir (this was the burden of their suit,
And thus they humbly taught to prostitute)
Thus said our Father, yer in
Ephrons
Urn
He pawn'd his body for his Souls return,
Thus in my name you shall to
Joseph
speak,
Remember not thy Brethren's sin, nor wreak
Thy just revenge upon their hate, which sin,
Than all their sins in gross hath greater been;
Remit what God hath pardond, and in this
On their soft Souls thy pardon seal with
His;
Thus did our Father bid, whose Soul above
Hovers with blessings yet to crown thy love;
Now this offense remit we thee entreat,
Whose hearts with true devotion truly beat
Of
Jacob's
God, towhom from our hearts arise
Zealous affection in Sacrifice.
For God's, for
Jacob's
sake, our fault remit,
Though we for neither would at all acquit
Thy innocence, and if it yet appears
Thy rage doth flame, we'll quench it with our tears.
Mild
Joseph
pitying their anxious fears
Could not but second grief again with tears,
Now grieved he they suspected him, and wept
Then joy'd their conscience not securely slept.
Now, as one having foiled a fell disease
Wherein he long hath labor'd, doth not cease
Untill that
Physic
shall the relics purge,
Which after might in wonted
Symptoms
urge,
Even so the Brethren though they now might judge
Their Brother reconciled, and that no grudge
Did swell his peaceful Brest, but that with tears,
He entertained had their anxious fears;
Yet Conscience never leaves her nice inquests,
Till in the Bosom she of pardon rests.
Nor were the Ten remiss till they found out
By true experience they had naught to doubt;
Wherefore all in a personal submission
Thus beg their Pardon, and thus couch contrition;
Neither presumed they on an equal greet,
But thus fell prostrate at their Brothers feet.
Dread Sir, in
Jacob's
name, and for his sake,
We come to second what our message spake;
Thus
Jacob
said, yer he enjoyed on high
The blessings purchased by his lamed thigh;
This in my name to
Joseph
speak, pray blot
Thy Brethren's sin (if it be not forgot)
From thy remembrance, since they are convinced,
And their Souls in repentant tears are rinc'd;
Trample not grief, guilt is a greater scourge
That can revenge inflict, or Justice urge;
'It is true, the fault was great, and to be brief,
Such as me thinks yet startles my belief;
Yet think not on revenge, their fault forget,
And let not rage usurp mild mercies seat;
This did our Father bid, before his death;
Yer Angels sucked his Soul out with his breath;
And now we hope, our fault did not so harden
Thy heart, but tears may melt it to my pardon.
Huge winds, they say, are stilled by little rain,
Then let not all our tears thus fall in vain,
Thou at first sight, we hope, wasit reconciled,
For ever since thy carriage hath been mild;
And if yet mercy in thy Brest bear sway,
Our hopes are anchor'd in a happy Bay.
If not — but then their passion grew so high,
That with th'
Aposiopesis
of a sigh
They there must stop; to whom quoth
Joseph
thus,
I know already what you would discuss;
'It is true, your fact was gross, and since y'are come,
If you want tears, I here will lend you some
For to lament it, God did you prevent,
And unto good did wrest your bad intent,
Who hath so many saved alive by one
Unworthy person as you see is done;
I long for no revenge, but that you sentence
Your sin to death by an unfeign'd repentance;
Tears are the blood I thirst for,
since to God
Belongs revenge, I will not usurp his rod;
Yet since you fear I will revenge your deed,
That false suggestion doth from guilt proceed;
For though there be no cause, yet busy guilt
Still holds her hand upon her Daggers hilt,
Envy doth burn like fire,
and then no doubt
But once in seventeen years it would break out;
But yet, thus may your busy guilt insist,
My cords of friendship, you may doubt, were twist
Upon my Fathers heart-strings, and guilt durst
Infer, perchance, both were together burst,
Fear not my Brethren, this the end shall prove
That guilt's a traitor which misconstrues love;
Doubt no close malice, fear no poys'nous rancor,
But in this Bosom let your hopes cast anchor,
I will nourish you, respect you little ones,
And when I die the like will charge my Sons;
With such advice as this you may suppose
Mild
Joseph
did his satisfaction close;
Even so as these, God's Saints do never cease,
Till through repentance they have purchased peace,
I in God's mercy joy, that he did die
A sacrifice for me yer I was I,
Yet can I not but grieve, and grieving mourn,
That I him crucified yer I was born,
Nay greater cause of grief, for, I am the
Jew,
And him each minute crucify anew,
My sighs should wing me to some Hermits Cave,
Where with my nails I'd hourly dig my grave,
And there would live a sorrowful Recluse,
Tears should be
Helicon,
and grief my Muse,
And as an
Anch'ret
would myself immure,
Yet live in tears a gaudy
Epicure.
When
Joseph
fully pardoned had this crime,
Admit a certain Intervall of time,
When Fortune
(serving, whom she cannot seduce)
As proud of his acceptance, grew profuse
T'wards
Joseph
in her favors, which he took
Still with a thankful, not ambitious look;
Virtue commandeth Fortune, and doth clip
Her wings, or holds her like an anchor'd ship;
Nor doubted he, lest that with giddy changes,
She should vacillate in her wonted ranges,
God who
Alph'
and
Omega
is, is love
Which still doth
Alpha
and
Omega
prove;
Thus
Joseph
long in honor lived, the strength
Of whose old age extended to that length,
That his Posterity to three degrees
Descent he saw, and on his aged knees
Were
Machirs
children brought,
Manasseh's
Son;
So might he boast as
Jacob
once had done,
Who coming one o'r
Jordan,
was increased,
When he came back, a Nation at the least.
Now as the glorious Sun, who proudly oft
Hath rid in triumph through the azurd loft,
Anon meets an
Eclipse,
which, in a brook,
If viewed, affronts him with a gloomy look,
So death (which makes a falling-Star of each,
Although he mount unto the highest reach,
And altitude of honor in his Sphere)
Began to threaten
Joseph
with such fear;
Rude death esteems not honor, and Fate dooms
With equal sentence Monarchs and their Grooms;
Shuffles the Beggers scabs, and Ladies paint
Into a clod, nor Villain knows nor Saint,
So
Joseph
with the mean'st of
Adams
race
Must feel th'arrest of Deaths imperious Mace;
When Fates black-bed-roll of diseases 'gan
T'assault the suburbs of his inward man;
He (conscious of his weakness) 'gan to doubt
His Souls frail mansion could not long hold out;
Wherefore his Brethren he, as one convenes,
To whom, Sirs, I perceive what heaven means,
For death (God's Bailiff) with his Ebbon Scepter
Stands ready to arrest me as his debtor;
Nought but my life acquits me, and each day
Presents my senses with some new decay;
Now Brethren, since you know my youthful Dreams
(Th'event can witness) were no idle theams,
I will speak a truth too now, but it propounds
Its burden to your thoughts on surer grounds;
'It is truth, as if 'twere by the heavens hosts
Proclaim'd, and witnessit by our Fathers Ghosts;
That God will sure, in his appoined time,
To
Can'an
bring you back, your Native clime,
Which
Abr'ham, Jsaack,
and to
Jacob
both,
He gave by promise, and confirmed by oath,
Then do not my expiring spirit grieve,
Nor forfeit
Can'an
by your unbelief;
Believit, as if each of you (as an heir
Unto God's promise) now breathed
Can'ans
air;
Record it on your Souls, in after years
Let these my words still echo in your ears;
And when you see th'event doth not fall short
Of expectation, swear for to transport
My bones with you to
Can'an,
for I lust
To be dissolved with my Fathers dust;
So
Joseph
yielded to the Fates, so old,
That he an hundred and ten years had told;
Did all the Muses Springs unto my brain
Pay Tribute, as all Rivers to the Main;
I could not weep him as he was, nor fits
My creeping style with
Egypt's
tow'ring wits;
Yet thus conceive they mourned, th'
Astrologers
Began to curse the base-revolting Stars;
Could one command the
Sun,
he'd make him burn
As an obsequious Tapor on his Urn;
The
Moon
a second, then unto his Hearse
The yesty Sea should pay its brackish tears;
A third the
Orbs,
then he would make them meet
On earth in honor for his Winding sheet;
A fourth the
Air,
then should some Meteors shine
Like to a Fun'rall lamp stand o'r
his
shrine;
A fifth the
Earth,
then should her teeming womb
Spread a continued
May
about his Tomb;
A sixth command the
Fire,
then he would bid
A never to-be-extinguished
Pyramid
Blaze on his Hearse; A seventh would set forth
Fit
Hieroglyphics
to describe his worth;
Pharaoh
devested of his Kingly State
In mourning wails
Zaphnath-Paaneahs
fate,
The princely Priests lament, and
Isis
Cow
Within her Temple did in mourning low.
Th'embalming Doctor not at all forbears,
But with his Odours doth commix his tears;
One, in commemoration of his alms
With
them
his name as with sweet odour balms;
Grief witty grew in some, each day his years
Some vie with sighs, and some, his months with tears;
'Twere infinite to quote their Fun'rall Odes,
Endless for to describe their mourning Modes;
Fit Mourners were they all, whom you might see,
Nature had decked in mourning
Cap-a-pe:
But this large task had dulled my tired Muse,
My fingers are benumbed, my Pen's obtuse,
Leave him in
Egypt,
where on this Divorce
Worms sweetly fed on his embalmed Course.
FINIS.