Self-Conflict
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Project Note
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The source of this document is the Early English Books Online (EEBO-TCP) website. Those books were transcribed in a character for character manner and can be very cumbersome to read since there was no standard spelling during that time. Many spelling variations such as "unlesse", "vnlesse", and "vnles" regularly appear.
This project was conceived to clean up those books as much as possible and make them more accessible to the interested reader, leading to the creation of a massive list of variant spellings and their corrections. This was used to clean up the text, but is of course only as complete as the list itself. Because of the nature of the original transcription, some words have missing characters or places where the original language (e.g., Greek) was not transcribed. This effort does not change that. Be aware that the original transcription can also be faulty and in some cases entire sentences may be missing.
Although this is no substitute for a properly compared, proofed, and scholarly edition, I believe that the result is a document which is far more accessible, particularly for searching for terms using standard spelling. The document has been cleaned and presented in what I hope is a pleasing and useful format for the vast majority of Christian brothers and sisters who just want access to read these spiritually nourishing works.
However, a word of warning: The Puritans were a very diverse group of people and their age was characterized with godliness, but also much upheaval, disputation and strife. They disagreed on many doctrines and some of these works contain less orthodox or Scriptural views than others. The reader is strongly advised to read with discernment, particularly if it is unknown whether author is trustworthy.
This project took a huge amount of time and skill to bring to fruition. I would particularly like to thank David Jonescue for the initial list of Puritans he found on EEBO and the concept behind this project as well as the continuous, unceasing efforts toward seeing this complete. Without his labor, this would not be available. Alex Sarrouf was invaluable in providing the initial list of over 7,000 spelling variations he had identified and corrected, as well as continuing to review more than 16,000 additions to that list for any typos.
Logan West
(with David Jonescue and Alex Sarrouf)
www.puritansearch.org
[illustration]
SELF-CONFLICT represented in a Dispute between
JOSEPH
and POTIPHARS WIFE A DIVINE POEM
SELF-CONFLICT: OR, The powerful Motions between THE Flesh & Spirit.
REPRESENTED In the Person and upon the occasion OF JOSEPH, WHEN By POTIPHAR 's Wife He was enticed to Adultery.
A DIVINE POEM, Written originally in Low-Dutch, by JACOB CATTS, sometime Lord Pensioner of Holland ; and from thence Translated.
LONDON: Printed for Robert Sollers, at the Kings-Arms and Bible in St. Paul's Church-yard. 1680.
TO THE READER.
T Hou hast here the fruits of some Lucubrations and vacant hours, which to me have paid the pains in Translating; and I dare • ay they will thine in Reading, if thou • ast not more Itching Ears after loftier • trains than without doubt I can ren • er, than Sanctified Desires after whole • ome and profitable Matter rendered • nto thee. Indeed else it were a pity Gold should be rejected, because pre •• nted unto thee in a Homely Vessel; 〈◊〉 Sovereign Counsel, because not sung to thee by a Cowley, or a Milton ; the very footsteps of either of which, thou art not like here to find.
My hopes shall be, however, to meet with some few, who will not dash their advantages in pieces, by carping a • me, who am herein no more than the Friendly Bearer; and to these I would intimate what remains to be said of the Work itself, for their further satisfaction.
It's Subject then is a Christians Warfare; or, to come up to its Title, His Conflict with himself. If thou art a Christian indeed, thou art a Soldier, and must fight continually; not Sensually with Earthly Powers, but Spiritually with all the Powers of Darkness where thou wilt find the most puissan • and dangerous Enemy thou hast to grapple with, thine own self: and with these, as thou must fight continually▪ so over these all thou must be sure to be victorious, or they will triumph over thee, which will be in thy inevitable Destruction. Skill therefore in this so myrious a Warfare, will be of greatest importance to thee, which, saith my Author, doth consist, In knowing thine own Weakness, the Strength of thine Adversaries, and the Remedy against both. To whose following Discourses then, for excellent Directions herein, it falls in now aptly for me only to refer thee.
And yet this induceth me to say thus much more before I leave thee here, that by reading thou mayst perceive thy glozing Corruptions using, in the person of Josephs Mistress, the most cogent Expressions to charm thee into consent to their Exuberous Desires: And by proceeding immediately to those Replies, carried on in the person of Joseph, thou hast the application of more Sovereign Antidotes to kill or enervate such (else irresistible) Charms, either in the birth or riper growth, within thee.
Yet here, lest the tender Conscience might check at the Libidinous and Profane Language necessarily made use of by my Author; he clears that Scruple from the like practice in David, who useth Wicked Expressions, but in the Persons of the Wicked; and in Solomon, who writes Lewdly, but in the Persons of Lewd Women, &c. Where likewise, among others, he satisfies his honest-minded Reader with this redundant and significant Similitude, That the Rose receives advantage in it fragrancy, by being planted near Garlic.
The Style is Verse, that so no Advantage may be denied the Flesh in this her public Trial; or, as my Author would have it, that the Scope may with the more inevitable force penetrate the Heart, as the sonorous harmony of a Trumpet doth, through the narrow passage of its body, the Ear; and then I may add, that the young Reader may through a happy kind of guile, be caught with pleasure to his own Souls advantage.
The Variations, Amplifications, and Additions made use of in this Translation, will I hope easily be excused, if not judged necessary; especially where the difference between Translating and Construing, and the unconstrained freedom of Verse is considered.
And now having given thee what I hope may satisfy thee, as to the Work itself; I would now only superadd a brief Account of the Author, and of the particular success of this excellent Piece of his, both at home and abroad: And this shall be all I shall at this time say of both.
As to the Author, Holland (whose Lord Pensioner he was) could not detain him long in that Fatal Dignity, which he happily resigned at a seasonable time, for a Retired Life at his beloved Zorgfliet ; where giving more ample liberty to his incomparable Mind, he lets it all flow to his Country-men in Castalian Numbers, until at length, (he living to a good old age) they together completed a very Large Volume; which he hath left filled with the profitablest variety of delight, both Moral and Divine, that in that kind (there) had ever been extant.
And now as to the success of this small part of his Studies, (esteemed by the most, one of the most worthy) it hath met with such kind and general acceptation at Home, that there it hath been often Printed in all sorts of Volumes; nor hath it found less abroad, where in Germany it was by different hands, almost at one and the same time, Translated and Printed.
Herewithall I will now leave thee, and refer thee to the Work itself, in the perusal of which, I heartily wish thy benefit and delight.
Farewell.
THE ENTERTAINMENT.
[illustration]
IN fulsom dung, thou who a beast dost here
Behold enclosed, and pondering dost appear,
The meaning to desire, thy thoughts compose,
My Song the while shall thee the mind disclose.
Of cleanlyest Creatures in this Ring enchas'd,
Thou one behold'st, by unkind hands there placed,
Of name the Ermin; one by nature bent▪
To be untainted with ought foul; now pent
In putrid Muck: behold, no pains dispute
May 'scape procure, unless it will pollute
In filth its fur; but hating most a blot,
It faints, oppressed with famine, on the Plot.
The choice is sharp: or it must die, or see
That now its Coat in Mire defiled must be;
Yet such its mind, that in this huge dismay,
Cold death it choseth, and concludes its days▪
Where lo, though dying, with what wondrous care
It softly sinks, lest it should blot a hair?
There now it lies stretched out upon the plain,
Grim death embracing▪ to be free of stain.
Thus far the Emblem, which
•
he mind displays
Of
Jacob's▪ Joseph,
which his pious ways
And Conquest shows by him of lust obtained,
Of lust, so strongly which in's Mistress reigned.
No
•
youthful dalliance relish'd with his mind,
He f
•
r more pleasure in chaste thoughts did find▪
Though carbonading lust did him assail,
He stood unmov'd, nor could that lust prevail.
A Lady he to him beholds inclined▪
With unchaste love, young, fair, and rich; his mind▪
Yet he
•
resists: she
•
almy joys presents,
He God prefers, her j
••
s as vice resents.
She pleads: Alone, we are safe from prying ey
•
.
But he returns: Yet God doth us descrye.
Then she: My Lord abroad, none obvious stand
To cross our loves. He then: But God's at hand
She adds: Youth prompts us to this am'rous play.
But he: Yet youth must wedlock rules obey.
She cries, My fervent flames O quench, I frye.
Then he: To them no stranger may come nigh.
Yet she: Slave to my will thou▪
•
t bought to be.
But not to sin, returns he; there I am free.
By reason f
•
ill'd, she threatens plagues unkind.
But he makes clear: Nought hurts a peaceful mind.
She storms, but he's composed, threats doth abide
And curses from her; prays, and steps aside,
Till she lays lastly hold. Skill'd in this fight,
He then his cloak lets go, and flees her
•
ight.
Wonder of men! 'twas
Joseph,
in thy prime
Of youthful days; the ve
••
ure of thy
•
ime,
When thou thy flesh subd
•
'dst. In ways of truth
O guide! and pattern rare for tender youth!
Assist my numbers, let my flowing Verse,
As is his due, his solid praise rehearse,
If that can be: And thou thus Laureate,
Vouchsafe, though slender, to commemorate
Thy victories renown, chaste Boy, that we
May read with wonder, and thy followers be.
But
Zoilus
is come; methinks I hear
His murmuring Sons at our blest
Joseph
jear.
Whom they a mind devoyd of Spirit name,
A vein of blood, a torch of spriteful flame.
But sure abused in reasonings you appear,
O sons of error: better reason hear.
Is freedom yours? 'tis then an easy case
In times when lewd, to run a sinful race.
Nor is it hard when youthful eyes espy
A beauty, strait in lustful flames to frye.
For lo, how facile 'tis to loose the rein
That curbs the flesh, that doth its lust restrain.
Nor easy less, when pregnant showers do flow
To you of wealth, then earthly soul'd to grow.
If love, if honor wait on you, if gain;
Such things with pleasure you can entertain.
But when the flesh with overmatching power,
Storms on the Soul like a tempestuous show'r;
That manly breast that stands, that will not yield,
A Champion worthy is to Lord the field.
Vain worldly men those Spirits valiant praise,
That Armies rout, that walled Cities rase:
But in deeds truly brave, none higher rise,
Than such a mind who its own lusts denies.
Let then Cimmerian ignorance revile,
Whilst virtue triumphs with a peaceful smile.
But thou, if young, let this example thee,
So chaste, so virtuous, so Divine to be.
THE INTRODUCTION.
WHen
Potiphar
's fair Wife in various kind,
Had oft undress'd the passions of her mind
To youthful
Joseph,
and when this her pain
In sighs she showed, but ever sigh'd in vain;
Yet would she not for this the palm resign,
But having fixed a new-framed design,
Secur'd her household, ordered the hour,
Lo, yet once more she summons all her power.
Much like a Prince, who with success unbless'd
A walled Town hath long with War distress'd,
Now draws up all his Men, and with a cry
Once more sets on to gain the place, or die:
So she; who now had well observed the room
In which she knew young
Joseph
was to come,
Where when the youth alone she spy'd, thus she
Her mind displayed, as she might entering be.
SEPHYRA.
HOw long, sweet boy, shall scorn thy breast possess
Towards my grief, and I in vain express
That grief to thee! how long a suppliant knee
Shall I yet bend, unentertain'd by thee?
•
he more my sighs discover am'rous fire,
•
he more thy frozen Soul, with cross desire,
Fronts those kind flames, whilst I the while in vain
Pursue blew shadows, and no substance gain.
O dwells in thee such barbarous desires?
And must I thus consume in tedious fires
That noble blood, that in my heart resides,
And but for thee yet in its veins abides?
Advise thy actions; that's but kindness feigned,
By importunity which is, or force obtained:
For what by flatt'ry with long pains is sought,
Though priceless gained, yet is it dearly bought.
Let him, who for his help would thanks receive,
Th' afflicted's case without delay relieve:
For him alone we count of courteous mind,
Whose help we readily performed find.
But thou art of Marble sure, that canst refrain
Of thy bland youth to loose the sturdy reign,
And view me thus o'rewhelm'd with plenteous grief,
(Nor cruel less) deny yet all relief.
What may I think thou with thyself so days,
So nights revolv'st! O most distasteful ways
To me they are. But wherefore thus shouldest thou
Thy young desires to sullen slavery bow?
What can more aptly suit youths soft desires,
Than with a Paramour to cool his fires?
For Natures instinct 'tis to all imbred,
Delights to seek in Loves triumphant bed.
So lumpish soul'd, so phlegmatic none are,
Who with their kind seek not their kind to pair.
Behold, diffused it is in everything,
Youths teeming pleasures forth by force to bring.
Nor doth in barren lands so dearth abound,
Wherein no memory of Love is found▪
As in all-pleasing
Ver
to bring things forth,
Soft procreation to our widow'd earth
Gently descends, which then the leaf doth shoot,
And fragrant flowers, and sweet delicious fruit.
This teeming time when come, there where it sets,
That Land's stra
•
t checquer'd with soft Violets,
Guilt-bowly-Daffadils▪ each thing anew
Gets life, on which it breaths its fruitful dew.
Lo, whilst it thus begins to fan its charms,
The lofty Cedars wide out-stretching arms,
Yet bald with Winter-blast, and Rime yet gray,
Now put on green against a Summers day.
Goes it through smiling fields, or ambient airs,
Beasts joy in frisks, of birds in Notes appears.
•
f on the strand, the fish, that scaled be,
Bubble in streams, and dance upon the Sea.
Salute's it man, what wonders works it then!
•
f pensive he, it comforts him again;
Refines his mind, if he is swain-like
•
oul'd;
Makes him, if dull, his sluggish arms unfold:
•
f bred a Clown, in Courtship smooth him skills,
Or else, if mute, in him swift speech
〈◊〉
.
There needs no more. Thus, when posses
•
with Love,
Our time we spend, our joys thus soar above
Their usual strain; and then each youthful Male,
All means assays, how he may oft prevail,
To gratify his flames; how here and there,
He in his toils a beauty may ensnare.
Auspicious youth, how singular's thy hap,
Whom Love with liberal hands flings in thy lap
Her balmy pleasures; thou who never hast been
Afflicted for her, or yet sighing seen?
When
Midianites
thee of thy Brethren bought,
And in our
Memphian Egypt
thou wast brought,
•
rom that time I was made thy Regent Dame,
And mighty
Potiphar
thy Lord became;
A man enslav'd to splendid Court-affairs,
And wholly bent to mount on Honors stairs;
A head for great attempts, of restless kind,
Who for the world, nor body spares, nor mind.
Before the morning-blush can night intrance,
And with unmuffling light in day advance,
Before the gray-brow'd dawn can early day
Fore-run, I grope, but
Potiphar
's away:
Already clad, he strikes him on a light,
In lucubrations spends that part of night,
And therein drowned, reads, meditates, and writes,
Till him to other things high day invites:
Then hastes to Court, within those busy Halls
Then walks, where care to thoughts uncessant calls:
In Consults dwells, until his restless brain
Fumes Oven-like, that cannot its heat contain:
Thence hies to th' Prince, where yet again his mind
Must move with humors of uncertain kind;
Nor less his Wits must work, since none is more
Esteem'd than flatterers that Crowns adore.
Nor yet is this enough, lo, home-bred sorrow
Genders new care for this day and tomorrow;
That so, no hour there is throughout the day,
Wherein his Soul might rest, he once can say.
Unhappy Lord, enslav'd by too vast things;
Thy purchased greatness thee but sorrow brings!
Forsake the Court's too cumbrous cares, and come,
Join with thy Wife to manage things at home.
But whilst my Lord him in these cares employs,
Therewith his buzzing head and Soul annoys,
I his forsaken, his forgotten Wife,
Wish for this cause a more delightful life:
And am resolved (nor deem it void of reason)
Not so to lavish this my youthful season:
Let him, since he will always be at Court,
Frequent strange beds, one shall to mine resort;
And thou art he selected hereunto,
Sweet
Joseph,
who of this long since didst know.
Mine eye my heart bewray'd, that did descry,
What kind of passions in my breast did fry.
When once the heart feels Love hath made a wound,
The Senses dislocate, the Tongue is bound,
The Mind, with grief possessed, is filled with dread,
And then the eye the tongues defect must plead.
•
know thou hast observed my strong desires;
From my sad eyes dart symptoms of my fires;
Nor less didst thou perceive those flames in me,
When near my bed I sent so oft for thee:
O long ere them (I know) this tongue expressed,
Thou felt'st these dire commotions in my breast;
And yet thou glory'dst ever to appear
As if thou nothing wast of this aware.
If thee alone I found, where none could see,
Or overlook what passed 'twixt thee and me,
Away thou fledst, when thou but thought'st 'twas I,
As though some Ghost thee thence compel'd to fly.
These were the pressures which so moved my mind,
That shame no longer could my passions bind;
Which forced, broke forth, constraining me to bow
My neck to thee, and court my servant now.
Yet woe is me, though I disclose my fires,
All I can say, cannot thaw thy chill desires;
▪It is neither Rhetoric, nor deep-fetched groans
Can move thy spirit to regard my moans.
O can no languid sighs, no Eloquence
Thy marble-breast to tenderness dispence?
Nor can yet goodness once prevail with thee?
Then rigor shall, which thou shalt quickly see:
Though I am more
〈◊〉
▪ persuasions rather
Will melt thy Soul▪ and we shall yet together
Join flames to flames: come
•
hen▪ why should such fell
And rough desires in such sweet savor dwell?
JOSEPH.
ME, what prodigious things do I now hear▪
Are these your w
••
ds, and, Madam, I so near?
Surely you mean them not▪ Ah me, but why
Seek you then once again my
•
oul to try?
It is confessed that I am yours, and his
Who is your Husband
•
but to none of this
Sure was I sold: we are not sold to
〈◊〉
▪
Till of ourselves we do that Sale begin.
Has providence lent you such gifts in vain,
To which so many wi
•
h they might attain?
So fair a flower has God created you,
That to your Lord you should be found untrue?
Though p
••
tly body, amiable face,
Though wise discourse your Sex so much doth grace,
These yet, if modesty you set to sale,
Will not that loss of Virtue countervail.
You're of Illustrious Race, of Royal kind,
With beauty gifted, and transcendent mind;
Remember this, and let your Soul disdain
Your honor so with Sta
••
ion▪lust to stain,
Much more to love your
〈◊〉
. Ah me, what isit
Has poison'd you such matters to insist?
Why should thus Reasons beauty be defaced?
Why should your glory thus become disgraced?
Why should lust reign, and why that spirit Divine,
That doth the Soul to virtuous ways incline,
And therein guide, be quenched, and force a
••
ay'd▪
Through base-born lust, and that the Soul invade?
For shame, adjourn these Soul-deluding dreams,
Youths base product, which you so ill beseems,
Which death portend: let them be straight denied:
Fire's quickly master'd, when help's soon applied.
He who from lusts vile bondage would be freed,
Its primier flames to suffocate must
•
eed.
Sin is a plant, which if not from the root
Soon plucked, will soon to spreading mischief shoot▪
Which if it does, its venom soon we find
Infecting all our blood, and all our mind▪
And that's a Fort with ever-watchful eyes
Which should be guarded from sins swift surprise.
But if we thus destroy it, then with ease
Our hearts may be secured from this disease▪
And that calm-virgin peace as erst regain,
The greatest bliss that Souls can here obtain.
Well, though it be, (which let me not believe)
That you're inclined brief pleasure should bereave
You of your fame, your eyes in vain on me
Yet look, in whom those joys abhorred be.
Ah, how may I my precious Soul resig
•
To such falacious lust? how thus incline
To wound my Conscience, and supremely prize
Those flames, and therein myself exercise?
Am I not of that house, which from the rest
Of all the world God for his people blest?
Choosing them such, or ever form he laid
Of this huge Globe, and of his promise made
Peculiar Heirs? Am I not
Abram's
seed,
The faithful's Father, by God's call decreed,
And Prince of Race Divine? and should I prize
Foul lust, and these advantages despise?
These members so abuse, that God upbraid,
Who his loves covenant thereon hath made;
And thus Soul-shipwreck in one instant make?
Help, Lord, nor me do ever thus forsake.
But how you err! although God did create
In all he made, a power to propagate
As was its kind; yet what, alas, makes this
For you? as blind, so you the mark do miss.
But 'tis perceived, what by your error's meant:
You brass to me for solid Gold present,
Which I should so, say you, with you believe,
That lust as love acceptance might receive.
Who sees not this? but better things we know;
From our great God to man no lust did flow:
He at the first did then in him inspire,
In beasts, in fowl, and fish, an upright fire;
Blessing them generally, with words of these:
Be greatly fruitful, and the earth increase.
Of these, yet Man, when he began to live,
One meet help only did from God receive,
(Flesh of his flesh, bone formed of his bone)
And this command,
You two shall be but one.
Thus that delight is but 'twixt two confined,
Where one Male-female are together join'd;
A third destroys the pleasure, sowrs the sweet,
For love is only 'twixt two souls complete.
And this thus God enjoins. As with his hands
He Man and Wife unites in wedlock-bands,
Which none may part. To th'Bridal sheets this Seal,
By him affixed, their purity reveal.
How should it then seem strange, if he consume
Such who his work to sully dare presume?
If with fierce plagues, hurled from his kindled Ire,
He satisfaction should from them require?
Who in God's house lewd shame commits, him he
To shame will bring, from whence he shall not flee;
And Curses on his body he shall find
Thenceforth, and plagues possessing all his mind.
For God is holy; his bright eyes are pure,
Which will by no means lustful flames endure.
The airy Soul doth in the blood reside,
The Soul's God's Temple, where naught foul may 'bide:
Within his presence-chamber none may dare
His hests pollute, that undefiled are.
My Lord hath days and nights, you argue next,
Incessant cares, wherewith his thoughts perplexed
And captivated are, and therefore he
Needs by his Consort must abused be.
O foul conclusion! which now makes me hate
Your lusts address the more: for sure my fate
Must be much worse than his, if I believe
That woman's words that doth her Lord deceive.
Ah, should the painful Husband grind and toil
His Household to maintain, and should the while
His wife prove false! he spend his strength for gains
And she devour by whoredom all his pains?
So at such cost shall fame superb be sought
By
Potiphar,
and you for worse than naught
Yours forfeit to your slave? O misery,
The certain issue of these deeds! who thee
May duly here describe? unhappy they
Who by such things for thy approach give way!
In vain the Husband doth employ his pains,
To grow in riches, and increase in gains;
In vain he seeks to keep an earthly Treasure,
If the wife prostitutes to strangers pleasure.
For where the Nuptial sheets defiled be,
All good departs that House, all blessings flee,
And fearful ruin with a curse succeeds,
Taking due vengeance for such dismal deeds.
I gave you no advantage to express
With words your mind, say you, and therefore less
Your Lust would not permit, than by your Eyes
To show the Symptoms of your Maladies.
What shall I say? Had you been ever dumb,
This language to my ears had never come:
Nor blind if you, had you forever known
These obscene flames, now so puissant grown.
And would you had been so, this for your sake
I wish, so sure a death do you partake
In your own wishes. O! express no more
With Tongue or Eyes such matters, I implore.
Was it for me to fix a busy eye
Upon your looks, your pleasure to descry?
(For this neglect you render my disdain,
And stately pride, as glorying in your pain.)
No, this your Maidens should observe, not I;
They on your looks may fix a curious eye,
And sudden motions may regard with awe:
Your Will to them may be a binding Law.
But as for me, my observations must
About my Lord be placed; He may my just
Regard alone demand, but never you:
His eyes alone may teach me what to do.
And this he will confess, so I have been
Obedient, where my Duty should be seen.
Do you conceive my Lord your ways should like,
Or yield to my compliance? O! he'd strike
On us much rather all that sense he bore
Of horror to them; so that we no more
Should need the pleasure, or his second rage
Against our sin his vengeance to engage.
What now avails it you to fix your mind
On that where you may
〈◊〉
enjoyment find?
If your vile flesh so burns in lustful flame,
Go there where you may cool it without
•
lame.
Why did you not at first suppress that fire,
Which towards me inflamed such foul desire▪
Why did you gratify your traiterous eyes,
When you had warming Lust through them surprise
Had made upon your Heart▪ Have you forgot,
Or did you never hear, how
Eve
was brought
To loss of
Eden,
by her busy eye▪
On fruit forbidden, and posterity?
This is the little limb which can alone
The careless Soul of Happiness unthrone.
Behold the safe, who this unguarded leave,
A Thief obtain, ere they ought ill perceive.
I did endeavor to avoid, 'tis true,
Your presence, lest I might alone by you
Be taken by surprise: Sin lies at catch
For man in solitude, neglecting watch.
Sham
•
you confess, your
•
ust did drive away▪
And I can tell you then, your best array▪
Is gone, which was your Glory: Not the blaze
Of all your Gems reverberating rays
Can yield that luster; but as Light that dwells
With Day, compared with Night, so that excels.
God did a Shamefac'dness in Women-kind
Implant, to guard at all times their soft Mind;
Which if they drive regardlessly from thence,
Their Chastity rests void of all defense.
Not languid Eyes they be that can excuse,
Nor winning Eloquence, which you abuse,
That can maintain your ways; them therefore cease,
While time may free you, and restore your peace.
Nay, know, the more you therein yet shall press,
So much your person will but please me less.
Once more desist, I therefore yet implore,
Let rampant Lust possess your mind no more:
Which since it will conclude in endless pains,
That fool is wise, who init not long remains.
SEPHYRA.
OFt though thou hast my suit with proud disdain
Repuls'd, my mind yet doth unmov'd remain.
I am what I ever was. In Amours chase,
'It is perseverance gains the Victor's praise.
So solid Iron wastes at length by rust,
And Steel, yet harder, crumbles into dust.
So sturdy Oaks yield to the frequent wound
By Axes given, till they kiss the ground.
Of you, as Dame, I have supreme Command,
Which your condition suits not to withstand:
My Money bought you, subject to my Will
Therefore you are, and must my Law fulfil;
Nor Mistresses can Servants that enjoin,
Which their Obedience justly should decline.
Well then, my Will fulfil, and wherefore not?
Sure that's at our command which we have bought:
All your whole Body's mine, that I may kill,
Or save alive, or torture as I will;
And if the whole is sold to my desire,
Well may I then the fruit of part require.
Nor to oppose me think that thou art free,
Who to my humor must devoted be.
All Nations yield to this, of old and yet,
That with their Slaves each do as they think fit.
And if long since Love had returned from you,
'T had been but duty to your Mistress due;
But that's now past, beware that thus no more
Thou of such errors treasur'st greater store.
Or didst thou doubt my loves reality,
As if I feigned it but thy pulse to try?
Never indeed did I possess that mind,
To such injurious double thoughts inclined:
Which if that only lets, O straight discharge
Those thoughts, nor more let them such doubts enlarge.
For lo, my wounded heart, all in a flame,
Offering oblations to sweet
Joseph
's name.
Press but this bosom, and there feel it lie,
A panting victim to thy wounding eye.
Behold my stretched-out arms, my naked breast,
Wooing thy kindness; what can be expressed
More plain? alas, I have no other way:
If yet thou doubt'st, the rest thyself assay.
This day our
Egypt
's gaudy Gentry are
At
Memphis
entertained, with Banquets, where
Thy Lord is likewise with our chiefest Train;
I only for thy sake at home remain;
Which to procure, I sickness did pretend,
That those few hours I might with
Joseph
spend.
My Lord rose early up, my bed I kept,
As sick at heart, though nothing less, then wept;
He grieved, impressed a frozen kiss or two,
Physic advised, then sigh'd, and bid adieu.
And yet I am sick, though well: strange, may I say,
Are adverse things in us, where love bears sway,
Whose mysteries more deep than most conceive,
And various are, or yet than most believe.
I yiel'd its depth, I am not skilled to spell,
Yet that my cure's in thee, I know right well:
For thence came my disease, and 'tis from thee
I therefore must expect my remedy.
Pain tortures not my body, but my mind;
I am sick or well, as thou art coy or kind.
O then relent, and ease my fierce disease;
If thou deny'st, I die by its increase:
Nor let me more beseech thee thus in vain,
Or reap the fruits of arrogant disdain.
Discard that dullness; why should soft delight
Be so opposed? why so should love affright
Thy tender mind, which teeming youth requir
•
s?
Why should dull ponderings drink up those desires?
We deem it in our age no faulty crime,
For youth now flourishing in manly prime,
To pluck a strangers Vine, and taste its grape,
If he the owners eye do but escape.
But why thy Fathers in such glory dressed?
Were things with them as is by thee expressed?
I have heard their fame, and know thy frail defense;
Thy
Hebron
is not so far distant hence.
It seems that custom thou hast learned too,
With other strangers mighty things to show
Of thy grave Progeny, which put to test,
Will be found nothing, or but frail at best.
Did not that Prince, from whom thou drew'st thy life,
His seed elsewhere evade than with his Wife?
Compress'd he not his maid, though he had yet
A spouse, and on her
Ishmael
beget?
This was th'
Egyptian Hagar,
who his mind
So pleased, that he, now gray, afresh inclined
Became to lustful dalliance; behold,
Our
Egypt
yielding Females fair of old.
Nor ever mayest thou with me hold the day;
For
Jacob
too, with many women lay:
Though
Lea
was his wife, he could not rest,
Till he was likewise with fair
Rachel
blest.
Nor was this all; behold▪ his Maids likewise
He both def
•
owrs, where see how they devise
Ways soft to cool their lust;
Zilpa
this night,
Then
Bilha
next, prostrates to his delight.
This might suffice, and yet where canst thou find
A man contented with one woman kind?
The Bridal-sheets, at first for two intended,
Through change of times to many more's extended.
That's now forgot, what God to
Adam
spake;
Did not blind
Lamech
two Wives to him take,
While
Adam
yet surviv'd, with whom his vein
Of lust he cool
•
d, and
Adams
rib in twain
So split? Each few or many wives, we see,
Do take, as they can best maintained be.
If this may not suffice, to
Lot
then turn,
And see his mind in love incestuous burn;
Then show us who yet judgments underwent,
That in these pleasures hours redundant spent.
No, no, thou never canst that season name,
In which against this God did ought proclaim.
Observe we but the face of modern times,
Whoredoms abound, nor deemed are any crimes.
And if at home this Kingdom we survey,
Them we hear Am'rets termed, and youthful play.
With gay solemnity and Tables swelled,
Pharaoh
his day of Coronation held,
Some time agon. Our Nobles all were there
Assistants, and partakers of the cheer;
Thy Lord withal, who had the charge to see
Each at the Table placed in their degree,
And as their state required; and thou likewise,
On whom I all day fixed my wandering eyes.
My place was then where Princes chiefly were,
From whom at first I wise discourse did hear
Of this worlds great affairs: the frolic glass
With cheering liquor scarce three rounds did pass,
When, lo, promiscuous sounds the groaning board
Loud ill-consorting murmurings did afford.
Among them one rose up, whose hand a pause
Of listening silence in each guest did cause;
Whilst of Adultery he undertook
Something to say, which with a wanton look
He named kind Courtship, and derided those,
Who a chaste conversation rather chose.
Methoughts his words and eyes bewray'd a mind▪
Inclinable to pleasures of each kind.
Many conceits dropped from his lips, and some
I yet remember, which I thence brought home.
I know not why, said he, another's Treasure
We covet so, and in our own no pleasure
Contentedly can take; why thus our mind
Should be to strange, not home-bred things inclined.
And yet 'tis so; no men with pleasure go
To drink of streams besides their gates that flow.
Convenient diet therefore is despised,
Because its plenty renders it low prized.
Vermilion-Cherries men the more admire
For growing high, for so they draw desire.
We love no low-grown fruits, though never so prime;
'It is those please best, for which we high must climb.
So in the Roost fill▪d grain-troughs set, and we
From feather'd Hens may this our nature see;
Who from those troughs though they their fill may
Yet wantonly for grains they dunghills rake.
Sauces acerb and biting, relish food;
Nor without Salt or Pepper are they good.
Clogging Conserves please Palats Feminine;
But that which bites, the nobler Masculine.
From busy Cooks we love to steal a bit▪
Behind their backs, and that in corners eat.
Nor need we here the reason why entreat,
All know the Proverb,
Stollen Bread is sweet.
In short, so well his mind with words he dressed,
That then a wanton Dream my brains possessed
All that sweet Night; whence I was first aware,
Thence more tohave carried, than I'd eaten there:
Sin I could lessen strait, nor wanton Love
Did I with most then longer vile approve,
Though in th'Espous'd. When good we deem of ill,
So prove to us infallibly it will.
JOSEPH.
URge me no more; the Rock unmov'd outbraves
Tempestuous Seas reverberating Waves;
Where after long dispute, held with despite,
Froth is but all the issue of the fight.
With mind resolved against sins deadly rage,
'It is best our hearts now early we engage:
And with this bosom-guest a bargain strike,
That to resist, and all its ways dislike.
This I endeavor, and this now must do,
By so opposing all that comes from you;
Since all your aim, I now too well do know,
Is at my Soul, to work its overthrow.
But I am taught with flesh and blood to fight,
That flesh and blood in which you so delight;
And this Contest I must as long maintain,
As Sin, or you, my Tempter shall remain.
Where know, so God will plead my righteous Cause,
Built on the bottom of his sacred Laws;
That all shall yield to my prevailing arm,
That hath a tendency my Soul to harm.
You are indeed my Mistress, this I grant,
Whilst you your Lord obey, nor ways do haunt,
Or upon me impose, forbidden known;
Therefore cease boasting, you are not your own.
These things please not my Lord's, although your mind▪
Though you're my Dame, your own you're not, you will find.
Your body's no more yours, (lost by one word)
But now forever
Potiphar
's, your Lord.
And by old Proverbs since you can contend,
Let me, I pray, one likewise recommend,
Well known to you: Each Wife (by fixed lot)
Is Mistress of her Lord, but body not.
Must I your Law imposed on me fulfil?
If just it be indeed, I must and will:
But if this Law with Piety contends,
It is not just, nor serve I wicked ends.
None are by Vassalage so strictly bound,
That they to sin should be obedient found;
Nor if a Mistress doth things vile impose,
Do Slaves rebel, that those commands oppose.
O how you err, to think in means men great,
May as they please employ their vast estate!
What means the Law, (sure thus is its abuse,
Where men their means to hurtful ends do use)
But to enjoin their use to wholesome ends,
On which so much the Countries good depends?
And 'tis good Counsel, Madam, though from me,
Let not your Slave by you employed be
To things unjust: This Counsel where rejected,
There with disdain I have seen commands neglected.
If with your Honor you your Servant trust,
And on his shoulders yokes impose unjust,
With dear repentance you will quickly see,
That trusted Honor vilify'd shall be.
He through Fame's Trumpet shall your deeds proclaim,
And then through Towns & Countries your dear Name
Shall be worse rendered than from
•
nnit fled,
Though his first Story much the truth outsaid.
Where therefore faithful Service you would have,
No Privy-Counselor make of your Slave.
Within my Breast no Lust I entertain,
Yet, trust me; this not out of proud disdain:
In me no scornful Spirit I do find,
Fear to my God is that which awes my Mind.
But now your Loves esteem you would advance,
And conquer me to that vile dalliance,
By showing how your glozing tongue obtained
This stay at home, and for me sickness feigned.
Alas! are these the Symptoms of a mind
To simple Truth and Faithfulness inclined;
Or not much rather to injurious deeds,
Of Perjury that from false hearts proceeds?
And yet how desperate too, to hang a cloak
Of Sickness over all, and so provoke
The Mighty God; as if he were not worth
His Creatures fear that crawls upon the earth.
But we may Presidents to witness call,
How oft such minds in his just hands do fall.
And now shall stretched-out Arms, or naked Breast,
Or Pray'rs devout unto my name addrest,
Perswade my mind, think you, belief to pay
To such pretences, and their Mood obey?
Forbidden Lust it is that is your aim,
And thence yet never upright dealing came.
False to your Lord, to me you cannot be true;
For dalliance over, then all Faith adieu.
Truth never flows from Lies, these cannot agree
Friendly Indwellers in one breast to be.
And with what Art do you Adultery seek
To qualify of guilt? a youthful trick
It only name, in fashion nowadays;
Not Criminal, because now common ways.
But is not Theft a Crime? And pray what Theft
Is now allowed? Or where's a man bereft
Of greater good, than of his Second-self?
To whom all goods besides are but as pelf.
Thieves that rob here, steal more from honest men,
Than what they ever can restore agen.
O, of its vileness when I do reflect,
What horror doth it not in me inject!
Of sins with which so human hearts abound,
Sure than this Lust no viler there is found:
Which at its height becomes in this most vile,
Where Wedlock's sacred sheets it doth defile.
For other sins that universal charm
Have not, nor do they work in men that harm;
They being rather of external kind,
As to the Body; this enslaves the mind
Not only, but each limb, and pierceth through
Marrow and bone (where Virtue bids adieu,)
So holding on, till Strength be gone and Grace.
And deep Remorse and Plagues supply their place.
O! How may I Adulterous Limbs embrace!
How thus God's Image in my Soul deface!
Ay me! and how the sweets of Lust enjoy,
And all my present peace of Soul destroy!
Shall
Joseph
be in ways adulterous found?
Sins vilest Lust, and where all Sins abound?
As in uncleansed sinks of venomous kind,
All sorts of Vermin we behold conjoin'd:
Ah! Lord assist, let this not seize on me;
By thy soft Grace let me restrained be:
And in sure bonds hold thou my thoughts impure,
That my dear Soul may be from Lust secure.
Particular acts of men will not suffice
Infallibly to teach us what to prize,
And what things not; what kind of ways to choose,
Or on the other hand what to refuse.
Our building's on God's Precepts, that's the ground
Where true direction for our walk is found:
And so as we to these our steps direct,
So far we Lust discover and reject.
Your Cause is not for
Abram
's fact allowed;
Should we our Crimes with others failings shroud?
And yet no others Wife did he defile,
Or Heritage with a false Heir beguile.
Nor sought he
Sarah
to deceive hereby,
'Twas her first Will made him here to comply.
Nor Lust to cool by this, was his intent;
But of his house th'enlargement only meant.
Produce you
Jacob
too? Nor will you find
There ought that warrants this to Womankinde.
Yeilds God to Man this right? Who doth not see
That Women here no ways concerned be?
For once let Wives with many Men unite,
What Generations shall be kept upright?
Or how the Issue understand at all,
Who its own Father it may truly call?
I know you can no instance once produce,
Where
Hebrew
-wives, provoked by Lust, did use
Th'espoused Womb, or pre-engaged heart,
Than to their Husbands otherwise impart.
Did
Sarah
ever to her Lord thus say,
By you I cannot bear; another way
I will therefore choose? O no, her lips never spake
Such impious words, much less did undertake▪
The far more impious deed. With restless mind
Though
Rachel
longs for Issue, yet this kind
Of way abhor'd to take; nor ever known
Were women with us so lascivious grown.
But now how confidently next of
Lot
You vent your thoughts? though who is free of spot?
And leprous sin, where it once leave obtains,
Forward and forward towards act it gains.
But did Lust reign in him? Dare you aver,
That this above all good he did prefer?
O no; lo, God for his just Soul takes care,
And this sole man in all he had doth spare.
So witnessing that he was only found
Guiltless of Lust, for which God cursed the ground.
And if we on his fault, you hint, reflect;
'Twill but your frail defense the more detect.
Before him, of a fire that rag'd behind
Fly ill-aboding sparks, where all Mankind
That there drew breath, and Flocks, and stately Towers
Are fuel to those strange prodigious showers.
Till afterwards he sees no more his Mate,
Or hears her footsteps he but heard of late.
For which huge griefs upon his spirits seize,
More strong than can by tears find restful ease▪
Whose force the better therefore to escape,
He for a Cordial dreins the bleeding Grape;
Where over-free with this uxorious fruit,
He, drunken, yields to its too strong dispute.
In this
Lot
failed, for which God on him sent
Judicial Judgments of a large extent:
So that enthral'd therewith, he then knew not
Wherein so greatly he himself forgot.
Thus when Temptations do our Souls surprise
With false delight, and season the disguise
Unto our time of grief, scarce the sincere
Can then consider what they see or hear
Beyond their griefs desire, and then the heart
Who knows, forgives and heals the tempted part▪
For he the Will considers if upright,
Or Mind that errs, if but by oversight,
And cancels those transgressions, as not done
By him that did them through surprise led on;
Though for example, and for his behoof,
If loved by him, he frees not from reproof.
But with premeditated lust to rage,
The flesh by provocation to engage
In those unruly obscene flames, ah me
How should this justified in this case be?
You unsurpriz'd have time to weigh your case,
Yet obstinate, no Counsel will embrace.
Lot
knew not what he did by's Cups abused;
Your guilt, you see, is therefore unexcus'd,
O how your mind is bound in Chains of error,
To think no time the great
Jehovah
's terror
Against lusts fire in judgments did make known,
Although, as yours, so formidable grown▪
Lo, Wedlocks Ordinance as soon was laid,
As the fair Female for the Man was made,
Who, though but one, yet so sufficient known,
For help to him, with her becoming one.
God's Spirit by each Vice to hate's alarmed;
But chiefly he his wrath with fury armed
Brings on hot lust, and that doth swiftly turn
In showers on those who in such flame
•
do burn.
This caused of old those floods o'r Hills to flow,
Where flocks once graz'd, where feet of men did go.
The skies themselves were threatened: what before
Was Land, for this lo, Sea without all Shoar;
Nor anything that breathed would God then spare;
But only of each kind one single pair
Of Male and Female; other unpair'd heaps
Th' floods Pris'ners were, and perished in those deeps.
If this suffice not, then I more can show:
Once
Abram
came with
Sarah
here, who grew
Soon famous at this Court, which entertained
Him better for her sake; there both remained
As of one womb, (she being sister called
By him) until her beauty high extol'd
Saluted
Pharaohs
ears, whose heart in flame
Of growing lust by that report became.
Yet when with her this lust he did intend
To cool, see how God on his house did send
Unusual judgments, punishments unknown,
Till he restored to
Abraham
his own.
And thus if God a fault of ignorance
In Princes plagues for lust, he will sure advance
Worse on that slave, that boldly dare defile
His Masters bed, and know his guilt the while.
When
Abram
afterwards did steer about
His course to
Gerar,
(though it fell not out)
Yet did not God that Prince to death assign,
Told in a Dream, because he did incline
In lust to wise? Mark but what words severe;
Abimelech,
thou art dead, except my fear
Constrain thee straight the Marry'd to restore
Untouch'd unduly, as she was before.
Thus lust by God abhor'd, we by this time
May learn, and held by men a heinous crime:
For hereupon,
Abimelech,
we see,
Declaring this alike most vile to be.
And if you look where our large flocks do feed,
And where our Herdsmen them to Pasture lead,
You shall not show that yet at any time
Our
Hebron
left unpunished such a crime.
How very nigh had
Tamar
been exposed
To cruel flames, if she had not disclos'd
Then
Judah
's pledge, by whom with child she went,
And doomed for that to this fierce punishment?
Nor think that
Judah
first that Law did make,
As if designed alone for
Tamar
's sake;
He was nor Head nor Judge within that Land,
Nor doom could give but as those Laws did stand.
But why our Maids behavior bring you here,
Since nothing there can for your Cause appear?
What
Sarah
erst and
Rachel
since did do,
Were different ways from these now chose by you.
Withal, your Husband if not once content,
Sure hereunto you never will consent
To lend him to another's bed, you who
To two at once with heated lust now glow;
And yet withal how vainly you uphold
This evil Cause from Tales by Courtiers told,
As if the wanton Court should Precepts give
To honest minds for Guidance how to live?
But that man in best things who would excel,
Must shun the Court, there doth no Virtue dwell
And they who listen to unchaste discourse,
Though well inclined, are made thereby the worse.
So it provokes lewd thoughts, and to impure
Desires unwary minds it doth allure.
But what comes here? should Rest in Pain be placed?
Or things sweet held, for being sour of taste?
With labor hazardous what will be gained,
Shall that the more with love be entertained
Because forbid on pain of death, shall we
Love what's forbid, and Rebels choose to be?
Sure that man's mad whose principle's so vain,
To place his Ease in Danger, Rest in Pain.
So Flies corruption love, there build their Cell;
Nor can those humming Insects elsewhere dwell:
So Fenny Leeks refection find in blood,
And brutish Asses thistles make their food.
O praise no things as sweet, that are thus sour;
We love no summers frost, nor winters flower.
Who with allowed food cannot nature still,
Hath an unnatural appetite to ill:
Who hath so gormandizers greedy seen,
That Meats by others which bespew'd have been
Yet have devoured? Not any sure's so wild
To creep in beds whose sheets he knows defiled.
The flower when dreined of its Virgin smells,
And grape of liquor which dull grief repels,
Nothing is left but that which none will use:
Sapless unsavory relics all refuse.
The sick of youth, who hates a single life,
A Maid befits, not any husbands wife:
For him a Nosegay's good, fresh plucked, not one
In other's hands, whence all the strength is gone,
Methinks in spotless love, where of one mind,
In
Hymen
's band, two are forever join'd,
Whom, except death, no evil can divide,
There sure serenest comfort must reside.
O in our primier years what sweet is there,
Where such agreeing minds together pair!
Who in their chaste delight withal obtain
This added peace, that this God did ordain.
But where lewd wives, inclined to naught but ill,
Their bodies prostitute to strangers will▪
There is no true delight; for joy cannot
•
e
Whence chastity disgraced is made to flee.
SEPHYRA.
THou hast a fluent tongue for Virtu's praise,
And still enjoin'st unimitable ways:
But of those many things thou dost rehearse,
Unjustest Doctrine dost with all disperse.
What, shall men only their refection have
Of dalliance, and shall the Wife be slave?
Since, as thou sayst, she's made for his delight,
Who yields her due when powerless to denyit.
It will not hold, when Souls of men we see
Incline to lust, that women yet should be
From those sweet joys debar'd: why should not pleasure
As well as grief to both be shar'd like measure?
Lo, when a Father from a single state
His Daughter to a Marryed will translate,
Isit not his care that she, his fond delight,
May wedded be to one propitious wight,
Who can in amour sweetly with her spend,
And to her passions equal flames extend?
For this I judge first Wedlock was ordained,
That marry'd pairs in that strict union chained,
As well to joy as grief alike should be
Yoakt, and forever in those terms agree.
Who in this state then steps, he should incline
Thenceforth to's wife, and all his youth resign
To the full pleasures of her mind in chief:
And this who doth not do, is sure a thief.
Poor Soul, she only 'tis that pays the smart,
If he elsewhere divides from her his heart;
Or if abroad he breaks his head with cares,
Thereby at home she's left to divers snares.
This for a rule I state, nor without reason,
That each kind Husband should at every season
Be to his wife devoted with pure thought;
Which who neglects, performs not what he ought.
Where once the man his Covenant-bonds doth break,
The wife there leave obtains hers off to shake:
For why to him should she devoted be,
If to his duty he will not agree?
Well, let my Lord frequent the Royal Throne,
But shall then I, though Marryed, yet alone,
In hateful singleness my youth thus spend?
O no, this mind doth other things intend.
As I more am'rous am, more soft inclined,
So to those passions I will refreshment find
From strangers hands. When fire is in a Town,
By foreign streams men bring its fury down.
Methinks my Lord with cares enough was ply'd,
When th'Court with daily meats he did provide,
And when whatever th'Royal board depressed,
By his direct command was only dressed:
Yet could not this suffice; Ambition knows
No bounds, but after greatness ever grows,
More eager bent: the heart once gone astray
From the mid-road, content thence hasts away.
The late Lord Chamberlain few days since past,
Through heart-sick pain upon his bed was cast:
A fit of Frenzy, with a lung-bred cold,
Of deaths approach, by his fore-runners told;
Each ready made, and from all corners drew
The sick to visit, all with mournful show,
But merriment of mind. One for the state,
Another for the tempting gold laid wait.
Your Lord, not slowest of these Mammon-friends,
His Interest 'gainst these so well defends
To his dear Prince, that he the place obtained,
While yet the Patient here alive remained.
And with this Charge now he is overcome,
Nor can regard what things are done at home.
The Royal Chamber doth his Soul possess;
There's his converse, there rests his happiness.
'It is of huge consequence the Prince's mind
Each morning to discover how inclined,
And seek to gain it. Sleep then cares allay,
And that's the hour of all the following day:
For from repose new raised, he's best of mind,
And favors then from him more free we find,
Than through the day may kindly be obtained.
With him who breakfasts, him that day hath gained.
This my Lord tells me; and before each day
Can peep, hasts thither, where though I his stay
Implore, he's deaf: and though in tears, yet so
Forsakes me comfortless. But let him go:
His own injustice turns his Right to me
So forfeited by him eternally.
For since his body he to me denies,
My Marriage-promise I will as much despise.
Wherefore, I pray, should I thus tedious nights
Languish for want of conjugal delights;
And scorched with excess of youthful fires,
Perish without redress in those desires?
He to his Prince conveys himself away,
Him to salute before approaching day;
Whilst I am left without the slender bliss
Of Nights repast, or Mornings farewell-kiss.
But what I thus have born shall now suffice:
Ways for my own content I will devise
As well as he; nor ought shall me deter,
Or move me this conclusion to defer.
He who to strangers beds so much is bent,
Gives cause that others do his Wives frequent.
JOSEPH.
AH, think you thus with show of right to hide
The grossest Crimes, whilst you all rights deride!
Methinks it empty sounds, (like hollow walls)
Which easily before right reason falls.
Isit just a Wi
•
e to thoughts luxurious bent,
To others should bold accusations vent,
Because her husbands better tempered mind
Not always is with hers to lust inclined?
Should she how he (unto her slave) disclose
In bed towards his wise doth him dispose?
O no! the Bridal Curtains drawn must be,
Where no officious eyes may pierce to see.
Thirds there so bold may never be to pry,
When Man and Wife in their Pavilion lie.
A pregnant saying some time since I learned,
Which very much the Nuptial sheets concerned:
There, whether joy or misery accrue,
Let it be wisely secret kept 'twixt two.
As head, the Man's not bound the lustful will
At all times of his Consort to fulfil.
'Twixt them a difference we are taught to make,
She being only formed for his sake.
If Similies might rectify your mind,
A teaching one you in the Mill might find,
Whose wings never move in circulating course,
But as they are whirled by winds of greater force▪
And this the Wife should to herself improve,
Who from herself should neither stir nor move,
But by her Lord; his temper well discern,
And move as his desires chill grow or burn.
Is he now drowned in sorrows
•
able plight?
'It is then no time to covet
••
usts delight.
She of his changes should be well aware:
If blithe, rejoice with him; if sad, forbear.
And though it possibly should so befall,
That in Domestic things no care at all
He would vouchsafe, yet should no married wife
For that break Faith, and lead a Harlots life.
Alone it is through ways adulterous found,
The Gordian knot of Wedlock is unbound:
And though the Wife should blameless be, yet she
Ought not a prostitute to others be,
But first should be divorced from his side,
And single so become, so years abide;
Or what I value more, thenceforth abstain
From love, and manless all her days remain.
But you seek not for things that you betide
To be divorc'd, but would 'twixt two divide
Your bodies use, and veiled in wedlocks show,
The easier seek to gain for one man two.
This but too well is seen: for who will say
But thus your flesh seeks out of bounds to stray,
And craftily behind a masque doth aim
To play the Harlot, and be freed from shame?
Well then, the cheat is plain, and plain I will be
To tell you thereto I shall not agree.
I have a Lord above, though sure you are
My Mistress, therefore such things shall forbear.
SEPHYRA.
BUt though unjust my Cause thou deem'st to be,
Yet let not now this rare Occasion flee
Neglected; since access is by my Lord
To thee vouchsafed, what his age cannot afford
To do with me. Himself hath brought us hither,
That as by his own conduct we together
In Loves might swim: O shame, if such a day
Without fruition should then slip away!
He on the Court and that ambitious state
Has fixed his Heart, and all his future Fate
There now and ever dwells. I all the day
Am here alone; What then obstructs thy way?
His time's employed to journey up and down,
As Envoy unto Realms of great renown
That influence this Court; So that we see
None so beloved by his dear Prince as he.
And 'tis the Princes Minion which his heart
Covets to be, that by the Vulgar part
He might be worshipped, and
Egypt's
Land
Observance yield unto his sole Command.
O how he thirsts a thousand Knees to see
For his good Favor suppliant to be!
And as he ever dwells at Court, his mind
Thence cannot come, to be at home inclined:
Where if he be sometimes, what need we fear,
Since his Mind's absent, whilst his Body's there?
Thus who by Courtly Glory is deceived,
All shows to him as real are believed:
And he his home who makes not his delight,
May easily be turned out from his Right.
Who can so fair an hour for this design
View free from dangers, and yet not incline
To use the season? sure 'tis thy belief,
That oft an open door creates a thief▪
And yet here's more: amongst our Serving-men
My Lord more fit none deems for Steward than
Wise
Joseph
; none to him may Rival be:
There's nothing pleaseth, but what comes from thee;
On whom he dotes; nor can he entertain
Hard thoughts of
Joseph,
or them long retain.
If sporting with his Wife he saw she lie,
Yet to Civilities he'd all apply.
See then how sweet a bit salutes thy lip
Now to a taste; if yet thou let'st it slip,
Thou merit'st shame. He who what season gives
Will not accept, in after-sorrow lives.
JOSEPH.
THough Time and Place at your design may smile,
Yet no occasion serves men to be vile;
Though opportunities to wish attend,
Yet these no sinful practice may befriend.
Consult your Case with cunning men, that know
The influences of the Stars below;
They never there, I am sure, observed that day
In which men might unlawful lust obey▪
O no! conveniency may never make
Unjust things just, which you now undertake.
'It is true▪ occasion swiftly hence doth b
•
nd,
But this no foul Transgressions doth intend.
Though my Lord's business him oft cal
••
from hence,
This
〈◊〉
to duty should the more incense.
More faithfulness from servants hands, men say,
Expected is when Masters are away.
Let him be who he will, he who will ply
His duty only in his Masters eye,
I deem a Varlet; for who fears the Lord,
Like pains unseen will as when seen afford.
They who their servants value would descry,
Must eye them when they think no viewer nigh.
Hate, me from
Hebron
drove, whence by God's hand
Men me a Slave brought into
Egypt's
Land;
In which state God I know expects I show
That faithfulness to whom 'tis now his due.
Despis'd though first I was, void of respect,
Me yet, so low, my God would not reject.
This said I to myself, Behold thy call,
Serve
Potiphar
; but serve thy God withal;
Be sure thou never dost from him depart,
He loves in every state the pure of heart:
Which singleness, what ever from God's hand
Be
•
ides thee, in thy breast ingrav'd let stand.
Though but humanity I would respect,
And for a warrant my mean thoughts direct
To Laws of men, here were enough for me
The foul embracements of your flames to flee.
My Masters house most largely God hath crowned
As with rich showers, with blessings that abound;
His numerous bleating flocks increased hath he,
That graze on Hills, and Ships that coast the sea;
His Household multiplies, his Land doth bring
All store of fruits, his state grows with the King;
He is at Court beloved by high and low,
And so at home, where all things prosperous go;
This likewise well he knows:
•
n words composed
Of plainest dress he frequently disclos'd,
That God for my sake him thus greatly blessed,
Which too in grateful language he expressed.
And now his private things attend my will,
All's well I do, nor can I do what's ill.
Such constant love to me I find he bears,
As men would yield unto their only Heirs.
Of all things ample power I did obtain,
You only did excepted here remain.
If therefore to the Laws I institute
I make this house comply, this doth but suit
With what's my charge; but none of these extend
Unto your person; there arrived, they end.
You an Inclosure hallow'd are to none
But him, and unto him must be alone.
Nothing may be so hardy to frequent
Your borders, and your honor circumvent:
How could I then but prove abhorred, vile,
If thus I should my Masters bed defile;
Thus bring unto so base, so foul a fall
His bosoms Treasure, love, and life, and all?
Surely from Reason then I should decline,
Or from what's human, common discipline;
So bold if I should be both to despise
My God and Masters favor, in that wise.
Much better I no more drew breath to live,
Than hate for kindness, bad for good to give.
So double guile abhorred is by me▪
None (above all deep-trusted) false should be.
What busy rumors should through
Egypt
ring,
What scandal on our people should I bring,
If in those ways which you have now begun
With you I equally should choose to run!
Is this the youth (would be the say) the seed
Of
Abram,
this of them whom God decreed
His people, this the Lad so highly praised,
And beyond others to preferment raised?
Hence thou and all thy kin; from whom it seems
In vain 'twas not, part of your lustful limbs
Were forced, as soon, almost, as men did find
You breath; what pity ought was left behind?
Well, 'tis my Charge of our Domesticks, each
To keep in bounds, subjection due, and teach
By rods the Criminal; so here I stand
Judge and Law-giver by my Lord's command.
But shall I, their Supreme, a Judge severe,
By heavy hands for each offense appear?
Shall I on others Laws impose, and yet
My self the foulest practices commit?
Or shall I when the lazy do neglect
Their work, forthwith their negligence correct;
Yet wholly destitute of shame the while,
As like a Goat, my Masters bed defile?
The Chief when he in vicious courses lives,
More than the sin is the offense he gives:
For as to th'sin, that wounds alone his score;
But the offense extends to many more.
O therefore kill these thoughts, which so abuse
Your noble mind such sordid things to choose.
How should it ever be for Vassals meet,
Their Lord's dear Name to trample under feet;
And on by lustful inclinations led,
Uncover and pollute their Masters bed?
SEPHYRA.
IF Reason cannot move your marble-mind,
Yet let that goodness which in me you find
Towards you, to the like awaken you.
Love may produce what Reason could not do.
As Lime in lasting Pyramids, we find,
Each little stone therein doth firmly bind:
So Friendship is, in Love's uniting chains,
Which hearts together joins, and joined maintains.
Unworthy amongst Sons of men to live,
Is he, for love who no return will give;
And thus unworthy you will yourself approve,
If all my kindness you to none may move.
Though here you came an ignominious slave,
Yet as at home, all liberty you have,
And by my means: from
Potiphar
you see
Large signs of love, but larger far from me.
On our best things to put you 'tis our strife;
He works of honor gives, I of sweet life:
So that no greater evil here you find,
Except to you perchance we are too kind.
He with affairs that takes away at night
Your rest, employs you; I with soft delight.
With ponderous things your care he loads, where I
Bid you but fix on me a courteous eye.
No day doth pass wherein I donit accost
You in some place or other, where I am lost
In sighs unutterable, looking so
As sad dejected lovers use to do.
If then alone I find you, language sweet,
Which but for Husbands, not for slaves is meet,
I give. By your neglect if ought is mist,
I calmly take it, nor on pay insist.
Amongst our Nobles are you introduced;
That my good will alone for you produced.
When in Apparel any dress that's new
Arises, that's procured forthwith for you;
Though seemingly to honor
Potiphar,
Because his Steward, and with him you are.
But ah how far from that is the design
To which my soul so strongly doth incline?
How I revive, within this Court to view
A youth of Body and of Limbs like you!
As sprightly, lordly, and so courtly clad;
The bare remembrance makes my fancy glad.
Rich presents wheresoere they may be gained,
I thenceforth plot how they may be obtained
Best for you only, so that none may be
Dividers with you, but the whole for thee.
If tidings for my Lord for some to tell
Falls out, and know I it may please him well▪
I charge you with it: mournful tidings are
For common wretches, not for you to bear.
Bestows my Lord upon our Family
A new-years-gift, or what may th'like imply;
You both at first with them alike do fare,
And after get from me a nobler share.
If of my Gentlewomen 'tis desired
One may the errand bear, of you required
'It is first of all; for nothing's good esteemed,
Not good or pertinent by
Joseph
deemed.
But why thus heap I words? on every side
Thus you through me surcharg'd with love abide:
But where's my lone? how are you grateful seen?
When one hand washes tother, both's made clean.
Can he with Reason, although scarce upright,
Her for her love with sullen hate requite;
Nay, and resist it too? has he the face
To meet his Ladies suit will foul disgrace?
Lo, Discipline, and common Brotherhood,
Teacheth us love for love to render good
For good: and should you not that love which I
Have shewn you▪ yield me back with usury?
Ingrate! so be thou called, for favors sake
So num'rous which of me thou didst partake,
Since all no one return again can move:
How are those looks, though lovely, void of love!
My sweetest hopes to this disastrous day,
As with swift winds, I see are snatched away.
From thee nor languid sighs, lamenting moans
Once notice move, nor yet my dying groans.
To Court I sent thee, there some time to spend,
By which I so thy breeding did intend:
But that it seems with thee found favor small▪
For where it should be shown, there's none at all.
But stay, forgetful I too far advance:
I know this flows not from dull ignorance;
The will's perverse. Cannit
Joseph
if he would?
O yes, but fancy doth his power withhold.
JOSEPH
to himself.
A Harlots favors, like gilt Pills appear,
Which please the eye, but eat, the bowels
•
ear▪
Disgust the palate, like to filthiest drink;
Gripe the faint stomach, and depart with stink.
This now I plainly see.
Seph.
What's that you say?
What isit you in those murmurs overlay,
I must not hear? How will you in a Cloud
Abscond your reasons now? reply aloud.
How with your mind did my last reasons speed?
Prevail'd they ought?
Jos.
Not anything indeed.
Seph.
Can kindness gain from you then no return?
Jos.
Yes, but in you, that grace I cannot discern.
Seph.
Is this my lone? then I my pains may blame.
Jos.
Self-interest favors none will kindness name.
Seph.
But what unkindness have I shewn you? say.
Jos.
What e're you could to steal my heart away.
Ah me! when men false baits to fishes hold,
Freighted with sweetness, but which death infold,
Is this a kindness? flows this from good will?
The very love pretended 'tis doth kill.
And such your favors are, so they abuse
The Soul with lies▪ and certain death produce.
But I, of other favors too can sing,
Than yours more real far, and great, which bring
Upon their wings Salvation, and intend
A love indelible, that hath no end.
That God it is, in whom I boast this love,
Who in these ways you run, forbids me move:
Whose so great favors I should ill repay,
(If that were all) if I should disobey.
He from my Bretherens Blood-thirsty-hands,
From a deep Dungeon, fierce enslaving bands,
Inevitable death prepared for me,
Hath rescu'd, and from danger set me free.
At length me in this happy state hath placed,
And therein, with high honors greatly graced;
Affording me conduct in that affair
Committed to my charge, and to my care.
Thus hath God done, and shall I him offend,
And draw his wrath upon me without end?
For such unstable flitting joys, shall I
Choose lasting woe, and from my blessing fly?
To Carnal loves shall I myself betake,
And foolishly the love of God forsake?
Then lead my future days in grief of heart,
Where nothing earthly, comfort can impart.
If kindnesses should hearts morosest tame,
And to the Donor with kind love inflame;
Sure then I ought to yield my God this mind,
Who has to me, beyond you far, been kind.
SEPHYRA.
TUsh, what has God to do with me or you?
Our good adds not to him, nor is it true
That he fond man regards; for him be grieved,
Whose trouble in his thoughts he never received?
'It is madness: what of God's fierce plagues is said,
Serves but to make the Vulgar sort afraid;
And that th'unlearned rabble of a Land
Might by such means be kept in strait command.
In Heav'nly Altitudes God dwells, to know
For us too high; what should he do below
Amongst such clods of earth, or mortals mind,
Who in his Image his delight doth find?
Should that great Prince, that's Father of the Light,
That boundless power, judge man's vain works of night,
Here on this dreary dale? should his great Soul
Consider silly worms in dust that roll?
He in high Paradise 'bove Angels ken,
Triumphant sits, and rules, whence ways of men
He cannot survey. As that abode is great,
Even so contemptible's this lower state.
My house is stored with most retired Alcoves,
Fitted to entertain us in our loves.
Profoundly hid, they cunningly lie closed,
In ambages perplexing, where exposed
No part is to the Sun: to this I ways
Have all that hinders to remove. Delays
Nor any may presume, but strait must go
Then far enough. What isit love cannot do?
Knots though most intricate we can exvolve,
When taught by Love, and sayings dark resolve.
In most ambiguous matters, ways find out
The prize to gain, and bring our ends about.
I, ever since Love set my mind on flame,
Soon Mistress of these Mysteries became;
Though chiefly fraud, I cozen whom I will
My fervent passions to obey, fulfil.
Nor without lies shall ever Lover be
Possessor of's desired felicity.
JOSEPH.
THink you so closely then your Plots to hide,
That by no piercing eye they should be spide?
Shall none your works of darkness undisguise?
O you're deceived, things shall go otherwise.
He who the eye did make, should he not see,
Who all these Beings fashioned that be?
Should he not all things see, that made the sight,
That framed the Sun, and first producit the Light?
Obscure in gloom of night your filthy works,
(And true it is, sin still in darkness lurks;)
Within the most retired Alcoves prepare
To take your pleasure▪ and no eye think there:
Yet know, that eye that slumbers not nor sleeps▪
Sees all, and of your ways strict reckoning keeps,
Even to your inmost thoughts. No Cave can hide
You, or your works from his bright eyes divide.
Put on the clipping pinions of the day,
And to Earths bounds hast then, and wing away:
Or where the Ocean ends, there you will find
Him likewise present, fathoming your mind;
Your mind, whose thoughts afar off he surveys,
Before Conception has there hatched its ways:
Your mind, which cannot think, or cannot do,
Can he not know, and better know than you?
It boots you not in lowest Vaults to lurk,
Or by Night favor'd, deeds of Night to work:
For Night is Day to God, darkness as light,
And all things naked to his piercing sight.
Well, but it seems to God the Heavens you would give,
So, as you pleased, you in the world might live.
But me! how vain is this which you conceive!
With God it is not as you would believe.
O your Creator better learn to know,
And more respect with due submission show,
When of him you discourse. No mortal he,
Nor human is, as you would have him be.
Heaven his ubiquity by sight doth know;
And though not seen▪ yet is he here below;
Both here, and everywhere▪ nor may you name
That place where his dread Spirit never came.
And at that instant I now know him here,
I likewise know him present everywhere,
Yet undivided, and essentially.
Whilst we fly from him, unto him we fly.
Had you the power by counterfeiting shows,
The eyes of men and reason to abuse,
'Twould not avail you; 'tis not here or there
Will hide your deeds to God which naked are.
As wicked boys who so their Plots contrive,
That into them none of the youth can dive,
What boots it yet, if he them understands,
Who for their punishments the rod commands?
But what speak we of Man, made of a clod
Of despicable Earth! let's on his God
That made him now reflect, whose powerful hand
Nor Heaven, nor Earth, nor can the Seas withstand.
Nay, Seas their rage forget, Winds calm remain,
When he commands, and rocks do rend in twain.
Heavens melt for fervent heat, oppressed with fears,
Like man distress'd, that sheds for anguish tears.
Moves he his voice, and gives the sea its doom;
Thus far, but farther not your Waves may come:
The banks must check their fury, force detain,
As fiery Steeds when curbed by the rein.
Forth from his mouth huge damps like night do go;
Then following flames, which Nations overflow.
To stone-heaps Towns he turns, and down doth fell
All things against his judgment that rebel.
His Chariot-steeds are th' pinions of the wind;
His way begirt with darkness, none may find.
Swift flying Clouds that 'longst the Heaven glides,
His nimble Chariot is, on which he rides.
Th'Thunders his voice, if that breaks forth, then there
Where
Sylvanes
Echo, Hinds do calve that bear,
And cast their unripe fruit o'th' trembling way.
Hills skip affrighted, Plains do run away;
His Hosts are Thrones of mighty Cherubim,
They hide his Char, attend as Guards on him.
Of these Angelic Quarries numberless,
That threat fierce din of War, doth he possess,
Commixt with flames: a Night-resembling smoke
Shoots from his nostrils when we him provoke,
And clouds the Air, so that the whole Sylvane
Withers its leaf, and faints for anxious pain.
He in the Clouds his signs doth show, which threat
Plague, Sword, or Famine, which here woes complete.
The Suns and Moons vast Orbs his word obey:
Commands he, they stand still, or run their way.
From him the three-fork'd Lightning darts its flash;
Which wheth'r it doth on rocks or Turrets dash,
Such ruinous way it makes, that th' earth her womb
Ghastly extends, and offers man a Tomb.
The arched Rainbow, with embroidered rays,
Strait from the troubled skies its light displays,
When he commands; where then it takes its place
Right opposite where the Sun promotes his race.
About the Sphere he thousand stars doth guide,
Which never err, but ever surely glide:
Their strength he knows, and numbers of them all;
Each by his name distinctly de doth call.
As with thick wool, with snow he doth infold
The naked fields. He sends his fearful cold
That charmeth flowing streams; then a south-wind,
Which them from numbness doth again unbind.
His dreadful Judgments over Realms he shakes;
From calm repose the sleeping sea he wakes
To horrible uproar, as with his hands
Drives ships in unknown deeps, men on strange lands.
Leviathan,
the terror of the Main,
With panic fear he troubles, till again
He yields his borrowed Life, and until he
Makes where he dies, an Island in the sea.
So awful is this glorious Majesty,
Who whilst we only name, our inwards be
Arrested strait with dread; nor can we find
Repose whilst this continues in our mind.
Come, Madam, then, your young affections yield
To Heavenly things; let them no more be filled
With earthly trash, but thence withdraw your love,
And henceforth fix it upon things above;
Where no remorse for sin nor pain doth dwell,
But lasting joys, which these do far excel;
And where these joys, in one immortal
May,
Inebriate and fill the Soul for aye.
This blissful state let's labor then to gain;
What though it cost us self-denying pain?
Since here we must the lust of flesh oppose,
Or that felicity forever loose;
Let us that lust with angry zeal control,
Unweariedly, which would deprive the Soul
Thus of its rest. As wax before the fire,
So spurious Lust would die in our desire,
If we would force our backward thoughts to be
Conversing with these matters frequently.
When in us things of God we overlay,
Our minds it strengthens, and drives sin away.
SEPHYRA.
BUt hold, fond Boy, God's judgments let them heed,
Whose steps are drawing near the grave, who speed
Now down-hill to their end; let them reflect
On such dull Phantasms, and these joys reject.
But why should we, that have not reached our Noon,
Think on the period of our days so soon;
Disturb, by thoughts of other worlds, our rest
And flee those joys of which we are possessed?
Age blith like Youth, like hoary age Youth grave!
Things more discording not on earth we have.
Dalliance becomes best Youth, as hand in hand
With joy Youth couples, knits in am'rous band.
Both their designs is Mirth and soft delight,
As doth their Names, their humor's so unite;
And both one soul (so they agree) possess;
What the one covets, toother craves no less.
Hymen
in stricter union never join'd
Two pleasant pairs of more agreeing mind.
Youth
in his bloom, and now when South inspires
Life in the Spring, and gathers into quires
The scattered Nightingales, and decks the Hills
With cheerful green, and Banks of gliding Rills:
When Gardens re-assume their Summers pride,
Where Art and Nature both in triumph ride,
Whose various Flowers deceive the rasher eye,
In taking them for curious Tapistry:
Then three chief pleasures he to him assumes,
With which the hasty minutes he consumes.
Jocundity
the first, composed of air,
That knows no sadness, nor doth laughter spare;
Who not on Earth, but as on Air doth tread;
Each step he makes with e
•
e
•
tossing head.
Next,
Play,
whose fingers strike the warbling string,
Which moves the Soul, and into tune doth bring;
Whose music regulates dividing feet,
That move in dance, and makes both fitly meet.
And lastly,
Chace,
to fallow-Deer inclined,
But which in Cities, not in Woods we find▪
Hotly pursuing, till within his toils
He has obtained some of those beauteous spoils.
Then sweet-lip'd
Joy
attractively array'd,
With soft Habiliments, whereon pourtray'd
[illustration]
Are Loves inventions, though her brighter air
Plunge hearts far deeper into am'rous care.
The
Onyx
and the
Jaspers
various die,
And Diamonds darken at her brighter eye:
The
Saphyr's
blew, by her more azure veins,
Seem to confess they serve but there for stains;
And blushing Rubies seem to loose their die,
When her more Ruby lips are moving by.
The curious Apples of her swelling breasts,
In which a Paradise of pleasure rests,
Surpass the whitest Syndon which she wears,
And gazing eyes to ravishment ensnares.
Thus clad and qualified, likewise she
For her diversion has made choice of three.
Song
first, with quavering throat, who in soft lays
Of moving Verse Loves mysteries displays:
Or of
Salmacis
streams a Song indites,
Which turns her listners to
Hermaphrodites.
Loose
Riot
next to revelling inclined▪
So to supply the concaves of her mind,
Which must by merry
•
outs a vent obtain
Of that light Spirit▪ active in her brain.
And lastly,
Snap
the belly-friend, whose taste
In well-fed flesh than fruit finds more repast;
Whose blood like Kids upon a mo
•
y plain,
Doth skip and dance
Leval
••
's in each vein.
Lo, what a jolly company is here!
Methinks my youthful Soul with new-born chee
•
,
At their remembrance over-spread I feel▪
Which in each faculty doth gently steal.
We both yet young, now flourish in our prime:
You twenty seven scarce reckon of your time,
I not so much; if now it may not be
A time to love, that time we never shall see.
Ah, why should youth his sweet desires control,
And with too pensive thoughts torment his Soul,
Just when the fragrant bloom of Youth would sprout
But 'tis in vain, for youthful lust will out;
It will have all its due: let th'aged grieve,
Who now of love have took eternal leave;
Let them with sighs converse, and groan to know
High things, who with a third leg added go.
As to like years, we to like mood incline;
Of Sex both fit in acts of love to join.
So kindly Nature hath our tempers wrought,
That whilst we are two, we are made thus one in thought.
Well then, cheer up, dull Soul, no
•
longer now
To spend thy days in grief thyself allow:
O do but see how all these joys do move,
To serve thee in the practices of love!
When aged furrows once thy face shall plough,
No more then these delights will Love allow:
Of things uncomely, we the chiefest find,
When age like youth to dalliance is inclined.
Come then, to Nature, Mother of each thing,
Let's for an Offring our youths verdure bring:
Her Priests we are, her Temple my rooms name;
My bed her Altar, and her fire ou
•
flame.
Our days worst part is, when declining age
Suddenly takes us with a deaths presage.
Pluck therefore flowers; my youth, e're spring be past;
Let's love that most, which doth but shortly last.
Dost thou yet muse? Or is it timorous fear
Withholds thy hand? Behold, thy blooming year
With speedy feet to falling Autumn hies;
And he who gets this fall, no more doth rise.
JOSEPH.
NOr reason, nor Religion 'tis, that I
Should wast my youth in carnal luxury.
Too soon, you judge it, that with prudent care
I for my hasting end should now prepare:
But is there any one, or can you tell
When death shall ring us our departing knell?
None can the measure of his days divine,
Or when his Sun shall in its grave decline.
Even now we by that Pursuivant may be
Hurried from hence to that Eternity,
Where no repentance is allowed more
To us, nor mercy which we scorned before.
And yet you think the shortness of our days
To so much more industry in the ways
Of lust should us elicit. O much beguile'd▪
Nor unto poorest reason reconciled.
Should he who shortly must account produce
Of his led life, be therefore more profuse
Of his most precious minutes, and excite
His youthful vigor to obscene delight?
'It is as unreasonable, as tis sure,
By many sins, we many plagues procure.
O think how oft we crimson cheeks do view
Suddenly change into deaths bloodless hue!
How oft vermilion-lips have been surprised
With hue more pale than box, and sacrificed
By deaths inevitable stroke, to dwell
With Spirits just, or evermore in Hell!
Nay, though as young as you, yet have we seen
•
risk morning looks, at evening who have been
Wrapt in a winding-sheet; and oft at night,
Eyes shut to sleep, that more never viewed this light
We daily see, (nor is it more a wonder)
•
ans Sun at noon declining, going under.
And that which we on others acted see,
•
orewarns may happen either you or me.
Gay youths as smoke, that quickly fades away;
We as our last should therefore think each day,
And strive, as that persuasion did require,
By settling things before it should expire.
To God the fattest of the fold we yield,
And so the first-fruits of the tilled field▪
How should we dare then with our own refuse
Of feeble age, his Majesty abuse?
〈◊〉
to the flesh our youth we give, and bring
To God a crazy stump for offering,
•
embers repleat by age with pains and aches,
Whose palsy joints for deaths approaches shakes;
What will he say? or how can we conceive
〈◊〉
our performances should then receive?
More wisely therefore let's our time redeem,
Whilst youth remains, which God doth most esteem:
The young that seek him never fail to find,
Nor he to give them graces in their mind:
But he in time who this neglects, anon
When he shall knock, shall find his season gone.
SEPHYRA.
THis yet agrees not with our years: men say,
Deep thoughts on death make hairs untimely gray▪
Farewell good days to him who hereon pores;
To these dull humors therefore shut thy doors.
Sorrow comes soon enough; why with such kind
Of pond'rings should we then afflict our mind?
He who on evils will beforehand muse,
When come, in him will but more grief infuse.
Yet let them mope that please; how ill it suits
With thee, fair boy, however! strong disputes
'Twixt Chastity and such fair looks as thine
Are never wanting, till that grace incline
To yield to the allurements which are laid
In ambush for her, whereby she's betrayed.
Behold, from lips the Coral which transcend,
Soft moving words do flow, that love intend,
And sue for a compliance; nor can breasts
More hard than Rocks deny their kind requests:
And Pleasures thereto join'd, on every side,
Of every kind still Virtue doth bestride,
And conquer: Although never so austere,
Even Virtue must the Charms of Love revere.
But woe is me, to whom do I address
All this discourse? 'tis my unhappiness
To spend my sighs unto a flint, a stone;
Yet stones have tears to weep, but thou hast none.
Though nature made thee thus surprizing fair,
(And sure where beauty is, Loves seat is there)
Yet can my words, though from a troubled mind,
In thee no pity, no compassion find.
How can it be that in those looks should dwell
Such cruel nature? O that fierceness quell!
Be not so bloody-minded; imitate
Thy lovely air; be kindly passionate.
Those slaves who in the fiercest battles bear
The brunt, and in worst dangers must appear;
Or those who are transfix'd unto the Oare,
Or who the plough do follow, cannot be more.
Them possibly it might become to be
As rough as their rough skins, but never thee,
Whose looks so sweet, so lovely do appear
As if they said it, Gentleness is here.
Thy education, and thy yet few days,
Soft dalliance more becomes, and
Bacchus
ways.
Sweet Malmsey with a Song, and on the knee
A spritely Damsel, wondrously agree
And suite with thy smooth Chin; nor can thy age
•
t self from these soft pleasures disengage.
Alas! to what, I pray, is beauty good?
•
t bears no fruit, nor eat▪ we it as food;
Nor likewise was it for the plough designed,
•
t must be therefore but a shade or wind.
•
f greater good may not be drawn from thence,
Which who doth not deduce, is void of sense.
•
s fruit is purely joy, no good besides
Within the borders of its view resides.
•
he blushing Rose, though from the stalk never wrested,
•
r in gay wreaths by Virgin-hands invested,
Or by a Lover to his female friend
Never bestowed, yet should its beauty end
To soon, behold how that its thirsty leaves
Extends for dew each morning, and receives;
Which when they once no more obtain, they fade,
Nor leave o'th' stalk more than the withered blade.
Why shouldst thou spare that youth which wastes away
So of itself? time only a decay
Works on it, and impairs its comely guise:
This season therefore slip not, art thou wise.
Do I love thee? I therewith thee accuse;
Thy beauty 'tis that doth this love infuse:
Whoever such surprizing looks beheld,
And was not more than to esteem compel'd?
None thirsty view the Font's aspiring source,
Yet from a taste can their parched throats enforce;
Nor any fang'd with hunger, well-dressed meat
Before them see, yet can refrain to eat.
Wine filled in glasses of a Crystal white,
Is drank with more refreshment and delight.
Thou knowest though meats be never so toothsome mad
•
They're loathed, if not in cleanly dishes laid.
'It is strange, yet true; by silence beauty gains
Rough hearts to yield, nor once by words complains
Although with eyes, yet melteth frozen breasts,
And the obdurate, by those dumb requests.
Nothing that from the lips of beauty streams,
But like a dew, of birth celestial seems,
And overtakes with ravishment the heart,
Whether in jest addressed, or earnest part.
JOSEPH.
HOw! shall then Beauty, human natures praise,
Be made a glass where lustful eyes may gaze?
When comely objects are beheld, then must
The flesh, think you arise in flames of lust?
Was this the end when Natures hand did grace
With those Divine perfections human race?
O no, the gifts of our great God invite
By no means man unto sin-born delight:
Nor was this given itself by lust to please,
But by chaste Wedlock man-kind to increase;
His Masculine perfections her delight▪
Her female graces him to love excite.
He loving her alone, she him, there are
No thirds that in their bliss can claim a share.
He gives, she draws his gifts by her fair eye;
Nor can she crave the thing he can deny▪
And her desires agreeing so with his,
They both contribute to complete their bliss.
This is the end of beauty, to allure
Thus chaste affections that may long endure▪
And they, if chaste indeed, when beauty's gone,
That beauty will out-live, that led them on.
The words of beauty, you allege prevail,
Even though they should hearts made of rocks assail
•
And I am fair, say you, O but admit
I might now say what mostly might befit
Your so obdurate heart, and that might be
Dissolved by the words that flow from me.
Yet there is more, I for your Interest
Humbly advise and press you; my request
Seeks but your safety, whereas yours to me
Moves towards that which will my ruin be.
Be then advised (and sure 'tis highly best)
Let not henceforth your eyes upon me rest
Lust to excite, but when you
Joseph
view,
Think than a servant he's no more to you.
'It is not enough if we refrain the deed;
Lusts in the thoughts from guilty breasts proceed.
And they who are inflamed in that kind,
Bear before God a sin-polluted mind.
Yet if the while my object in your breast
Your lust should heighten, and destroy your rest,
Great would my sorrow be: Nay, I before
This should succeed, my face in purple gore
Would certainly convert; my killing eyes
I would reward with equal cruelties:
Within these cheeks my nails I would indent,
And in that manner them so oft torment,
Until no marks of beauty there should be
More left, but horror, whence all eyes should flee.
But you that beauty seek, convert your eyes
Unto that glorious
Helion
; a surprise
Will seize your soul, from the first sight you gain,
Which fixed there in wonder will detain,
And ardent love, and that will quite extrude,
Which in your breast you now so close include.
How vain, alas, is that we beauty call,
In looks decipher'd which we so extol!
Take thence the veil, and that which meets our sight
Is sores which very nature doth affright.
No sooner from our body is expressed
That suspiration wherein life doth rest;
No sooner are our nostrils stopped; but strait
Our beauty's gone, our glory finds a date.
The Corps then so forsook, extended are,
Which with sad
•
bse
•
uies men mourning bear
Unto their sable graves, where then they must
Measure their cold proportions in the dust.
There now behold your lovely beauty lie,
Nor long expect, and you may feeding spy
Self-quickening worms upon that flesh, whose sight
Could once your Souls entirest thoughts delight.
Well, therefore pray from thence revert your eyes;
Nor longer with the world such beauty prize,
But raise them up unto those things above,
Which will both kindle and protect your love:
For there is nothing in this lower sphere
Which shall not into nothing disappear.
But now, alas, your words too plainly show,
Not beauty 'tis, but horror you pursue.
The ugliness of sin who can express?
And yet 'tis this at which your Soul doth press.
If pencils could by deep and heightings art
This Monster unto human eyes impart,
And half its ugliness delineate, we
As from infernal plagues thence struck should flee.
Produce us what you can that genders fright,
Or huge amazement, or afflicts the sight;
All the deformities which you can show,
Though never so dismal, yet so black a view
Have not as this you seek. But here I stay
Too long; I to my charge must haste away:
With leave I therefore go: it is not fit
Dames with men-slaves long privacies admit.
SEPHYRA.
NO, thou shalt stay: nor think to shrink so hence;
Thy oppositions but the more incense
My raging flames▪ a suffocated fire,
When once broke forth, flames with the greater ire.
But let me know, I earnestly request,
Whence is it thus thy Soul is pre-possessed
With these so ponderous things? where wasit thou brought
Or trained up? none here have so been taught.
Our Men, thou see'st, are waggishly inclined,
Nor wanton less do I our women find:
Who knows how things would go, if their desire
Had all the liberty it would require?
Thou only art exempted; thou alone
Art more relentless then obdurate stone.
In these affairs than thee none so unmov'd,
Who love deny'st, though much thou art beloved.
Bless me! what is it thus withholds thy mind,
And breeds distate in thee to women-kind,
Nay to all joy? what want sustain'st thou here,
That against pleasure makes thee so severe?
Behold, my Palace seated for delight,
Within a Grove, where a smooth brook more bright
Than shining-Crystal glydes a thousand ways,
And in amusing tracts itself displays,
Frequently washing the beloved sides
Of her delightful banks with loving Tides;
Where waves call waves, and glide along in ranks,
And prattle to the water-edging banks:
Unto whose murmuring, yet gentle falls,
Melodious birds sing solemn
Madrigals,
And where white Swans do clap their silver wing,
And on the breast of its
Meanders
swim.
Nor in my gates doth any grief reside:
Mirth only, Halcyon pleasures here abide
In all variety, which recommend
Enjoyment, and for eminence contend.
Here on the
Lesbian
Lute by skillful hand
Soft strains are struck, which all the Soul command;
Or the Chitarh, or
Threcian
Harp, which break
Hearts made of Rocks, and them their captives make:
Though of these Symphonies none can expel
Those rough desires which in thy bosom dwell;
In melancholy notions whose delight
Is rather placed, which human souls affright.
My Tables daily groan, as though each feast
Would as a flood devour all Fowl and Beast;
So Princely are they served: There
Bacchus
flows
In burnish'd Gold, and frolic Cups bestows.
Nay, of things wild here I have likewise store;
Of Fowl, of Venson, and the salvage Boar:
Only in these I ever am beguile'd
Of my due share, since
Joseph
is not wild.
And yet by Feasts, where Tables glutted are,
Loves practices we find most active there:
The tox'd with wine, and dainties over-fed▪
With heightened lust go evermore to bed
Ease genders teeming flesh, nor he soft days
Who doth enjoy, can choose but run her ways.
A belly filled with meats of various kind,
Seeks where an exit the excess may find.
Methinks that youth, whilst him fair Dames caress,
Their love who yet endeavors to suppress,
Or who in midst of mirth sits sably sad,
Doth either dream, or else is plainly mad.
Indeed thou art a dreamer, and from thee
What doth proceed, th'effect of fancies be.
They robbed thee first (if Fame doth not beguile)
Of Brethren's love, and wrought thee this exile:
Nor, if thy dreams thou leave'st not, wilt thou be
Less hated in this Palace, both by me
And by my Lord; by him, through my devise:
O therefore dream no more, if thou art wise.
In one hour that, which tenscore years thrice told,
From shameful view old
Noah
did withhold,
Wine showed to transient eyes; and shall its sprite
Raise in thy youthful members no delight?
Why should not ease as others, work on thee?
Canst thou less feeling then all mortals be,
When tender Love doth her soft charms inject?
Wherein hast thou than others more defect?
Alas, what isit thus I am forced to see
Two contrarieties made up in thee?
My Chamber with all lovely pomp is decked,
Which eyes with wonder and with love affect:
Egyptian needles there have shewn what skill,
And patience▪ and industry can fulfil;
So lively, that there seems a doubtful strife
Betwixt the senseless shadows and the life.
My bed then with this
Arras
over-laid,
Thereon
Egyptian
Amours are displayed
With skill so tempting, that they charm delight
In the most cold, and with command invite
To those so pleasing pleasures, whilst they speak,
And in fair stories their intentions break.
All smell of Sovereign balms compounded so,
That in their mixture they Conceit outgo▪
More precious than the fragrant breath which moves
The whispering leaves in the
Panchain
Groves.
The
Arabian
wind, whose breathing gently blows
Purple to th'Violet, blushes to the Rose,
Did never yield an odour like to these,
So greatly which that smelling sense doth please:
No Myrrh, no Cassia, nor more choice perfumes
Of untouched Nard, or Aromatick fumes
Of hot
Arabia
doth enrich the air
With more delicious sweetness, or more rare.
O come then, let us in the downy plume
Tumble with boldness, and in clasps consume
The hours in feats of love, pledging each other
In mutual flames, and dastard ponderings smother.
Nor need we fear an absent Husband now,
Whom we involved in Court-concerns do know,
So deeply too, that he no thought behind
Hath left at home of his so cumber'd mind.
Well, for a close then, get thee without fear
To th'door of my withdrawing chamber, where
Thrice softly knock, and then as oft be still;
Then knock again, the door shall do thy will.
Be this thy warning, and forthwith advance
With undisturbed mind. In dalliance
We so some hours will spend. Most happy boy,
Who without sighs so freely mayst enjoy
That bliss for which so many sigh'd in vain,
Nor any fruit could of their suit obtain.
JOSEPH.
BUt whilst your Chambers glory thus you raise,
With far-fetched words, the subtle Merchants ways
I find you use, who doth the best expose
Of his bad wares, nor will their faults disclose.
You golden pleasures offer unto me,
But of a wounded mind can silent be:
Of momentary joys you glibly tell,
But leave untouched the future woes of
Hell.
Though therefore thus you Chambering dalliance praise,
Within my breast yet this no lust can raise:
For sweet though these delights are to your mind,
Yet I therein much bitterness do find;
On which when I reflect, from trembling then
No stay I have: as with an iron pen
I find it in my fear-possessed mind
Deeply engraven. He who is inclined
To acts adulterous with his neighbors wife,
Sports with his body, Soul, and future life.
Behold, the evil Conscience, that great Book
Wherein vile deeds as black as Hell do look;
That memorable record, where is writ
All ill men do all goodness they omit:
If such mine be, a tempest in my mind,
An ever-barking dog I there shall find:
Nor shall my fears, my sorrows, my affrightings,
My late-wished
had I wists,
remorseful bitings,
From thence proceeding, ever have an end,
But with those plagues for evermore contend.
Guilt makes us shake when ruffling leaves we hear;
When a light breath but moves the grass, we fear:
Before the naked walls, our looks grow pale;
Nor whilst the cause abides, can help avail.
The Husbands fear both needs must overtake,
Who vengeance claims for his robbed honors sake;
He will no bribe accept; no gold will blind
Or lay the rage of his incensed mind:
Pale jealousy, with ever-waking eyes,
Will seek, when once alarmed, to surprise
Both in the filthy act, which when it shall,
One sat they both shall have, and sink one fall.
Now think if
Potiphar
should once obtain
Light of our practices, my God! what pain,
What whips, or wracks, or cruel deaths should be
Cruel enough for such a wretch as me?
No more then words, but deeds would speak his mind;
Me on the slaughtering bank to s
•
ay he'd bind;
And there begin, where in a fatal time
Began my so injurious mortal crime:
He'd spit my Carcase then; that roasted, he
Would throw to dogs, for them to feed on me.
Nay, whatsoever plagues might be devised,
Together should on me be exercised.
Nor yet should this at all his rage atone,
But unto more revenge, he'd seek each bone,
And them, now bare, together fitly knit,
As like a chair, where you forlorn shall sit;
A chair so framed, where days with panting breath
You in the Ribs shall dwell as chained in death,
And where of life though I am dispossessed,
Your guilty Limbs yet in my lap shall rest.
Shall rest, said I? O no! What thing can give
Repose to you, who but to grief shall live?
Shall live! nor can that be; what life is there,
Where death is found, or ever-dying fear?
This tender skin which doth my face impale,
Shall then for yours become a Harlots veil.
Nay, startle not; for this is but the way
Whereby your lips you to your Loves may lay.
This skul shall be your Cup, whence you shall drink,
Which shall assist you on your joys to think.
These locks by you so comely deemed to me,
Shall your bald Crown invest, and border be.
My skin all day shall hang to intercept
Your Limbs where you shall prisoner be kept:
And on the roof men so the same shall hasp,
As if it would you in its arms inclasp.
But when the pensive night her wings shall spread,
And drowziness in eyes of mortals shed;
When nothing's heard but now and then the howl
Of some vile Cur, or whooping of the Owl;
And when the horned Moon by her pale light
The more shall raise the horror of the night:
Then this same skin your limbs shall over-spread,
As burying you alive among the dead.
And why all this is done when you inquire,
Remember but the things you now desire;
No farther searching you shall need to make,
But for sufficient answer that may take.
[illustration]
O my good God! but what should I then do,
Heaped with plagues more dismal far then you?
Within whose mind a sorer load should dwell,
•
y how much more my guilt should yours excel.
•
magine I were taken in the fact,
•
nd forthwith so to deaths dominions packed,
•
urried away by a superior hand;
•
hink how my case then in God's sight should stand.
〈◊〉
as the lofty Tree doth fall, it lies;
•
nd so doth earth-born man, when once he dies:
•
o as his dying flesh he puts off here,
•
o he before God's judgment must appear;
•
nd as he doth unto his grave go down,
•
o he shall rise to shame or high renown.
The day doth come when all the world shall lie
•
rying in flames, and Time itself shall die;
When seas with skies, and skies with seas shall join▪
•
nd stars with stars confounded, loose their shine:
When the whole hinge of these inferior things
•
hall all be broke, and run into their springs;
When the dread T
•
ump shall thunder through the deep,
•
nd wake dead Mortals from their longest sleep;
And when the dreadful Judge, in middle air,
•
hall summon Souls before him to appear.
O how wilt thou approach, vile flesh, that eye
Of God, who like the swine didst live and die,
When he shall on his great Tribunal sit,
And judge the Trespasses thou didst commit▪
〈◊〉
thy past days of flesh? when thy own breast
Shall testify against thee, and infest
•
hy soul with horrid fear, whilst thou dost stand
•
foul Contemner of God's great Command?
When all thy works shall be disclos'd to thee,
•
ow vast, how manifold, how black they be?
••
d when thou shalt behold that all is known
•
hatever thou hast evil thought and done?
Wilt thou be then as now, so bold? no, fear
Will make thy courage quickly disappear:
Cold sweat, joints knocking, and stiff bristling hair
Do plainly show no courage to be there.
Fear is the palsy of the mind and soul,
A Tempest which no cunning can control;
No bribes, or blandishments, or Charms, its rage,
By guilt ingender'd, ever can asswage:
But after Trial, then the Sentence flies
Like thunder, at which voice the sinner dies
(Not mortally) so horrible the tone,
Depart thou cursed
: whereupon a groan
(Far dolefuller than those in pangs of death)
Are fetched by guilty hearts as in a breath.
When we depart from life, to death we come;
And God once gone, then Devils take his room.
Shut out from Heaven, we must go to Hell,
There with our sins and their effects to dwell.
Ay me! who can describe that place of woe?
But those that feel it, by their feeling do.
They surely err, who dream there
Hydra
stands,
Or
Scylla, Briareus
with his hundred hands,
Or flam'd
Chimera
's,
Harpies,
full of rape,
Or snaky
Gorgons, Gerions
triple shape,
Or those three Furies, daughters to old Night,
Implacable, and hating all delight,
Who whilst before the flaming gates they sit,
With wrathful Combs their snaky curls unknit;
Or
Dis
with his fierce Daemons, or the Host
Of fleshly Ghosts in sensual flames that roast;
Or other fictions more: but I am sure
There sorrows dwell which evermore endure:
And an immortal God shall then lay on
Plagues which both cannot, and yet must be born.
He'll plague then like a God, whilst wretched we
Must bear them (though we cannot) eternally.
O thou Eternity, what great amaze
Does thy reflection in my inwards raise!
Thy endless thought creates another Hell
In midst of it, if not its woes excel.
But these things in your thoughts are fond, you sh
•
w,
And I in your conce
•
t for simple go.
Well, though I do, yet the divine Beliefs
Of God in simple uprightness consists.
Then as a dreamer you 'gainst me exclaim,
Although than this I have no greater name:
Nay, whosoever for this cause may frown,
Yet on my head I will bear it as my Crown,
And for it praise my God; hereby I see,
That in my ways his Spirit is with me.
When Sovereign sleep descendeth from on high,
And on their Couch these members stretched do lie,
My sprightly Soul, that part of Heavenly fire,
Nor sleeps nor slumbers, but remains entire
In action. By strange visions of the night,
I in my soul perceive the God of light,
Whose Spirit then, whilst others slumbers bind,
Graciously communes with my ravished mind,
Plainly fore-showing to myself what shall,
And mighty Realms, in future days befall.
Though from my soil for dreams Hate banished me,
Again by dreams yet I shall raised be;
And those this evil who have wrought me, shall
With suppliant knee unto my mercy fall;
That seek with contrite tears, deep groans, and see
Their hate then past shall be forgot by me.
Nor shall I seek revenge, but they shall find
To them I will bear a loving brothers mind.
But grant I had power, and should with crafty wile,
The watchful eyes of Jealousy beguile;
Alas, what help yet for me in that hour,
When guilty thoughts should all my peace devour?
Who knows not, though with care by th'vicious sought,
Yet their own mind to peace cannot be bought;
That loudly vengeance crying, each vile heart
So Condemnation must toit self impart.
You may obscure your deeds in graves below,
Or in thick darkness them abscond: but know,
Although the Conscience you may charm asleep,
That yet you never shall long silent keep.
O no, your injured God, while drowsy night
Your eye-lids close, your thoughts with shapes shall fright,
Resembling just your guilt; and unto day
Your works produce, which in oblivion lay.
That there's a God, nor need you seek to find;
Turn but within, and see him in your mind:
Examine there, and you will quickly know
That he's above, and in your thoughts below.
When heat of lust doth in the lustful cease,
Strait deep remorse becomes their minds disease.
Pleasures once over-blown, and youth decayed,
Regret and Trembling doth the Soul invade.
Who's pleased when he compares his short joys spent,
With lasting woes, their purchase, which torment
The Mind and Body with far greater pain,
Than all those joys before did pleasure gain?
For seeds of pleasure, we but ever find,
Are cowardice and horror in the mind.
Do, go, enjoy your swing, choose carnal things;
These are those soft delights with deadly stings,
The death of Souls, confusion of all grace,
The worm that gnaws for never-ending space.
Well then, (O much deceived) if true delight
You yet desire, then bravely show despite
To lust; deny your eyes, superbly spurn
At Love, which doth in lust forbidden burn.
Alas! and what's these joys? youth swiftly flies
To hoary age, and with it Pleasure dies;
Our day-sun set, and sable night come on,
Our woes so come, and so our joys are gone.
Still to do good, and overcome the heart,
Doth evermore unto the Soul impart
All comfort, and thence grief compels to fly:
'It is the best pleasure, Pleasure to deny.
O thou transcendent joy, celestial rest,
How happy are those Souls by thee possessed!
No joy or pleasure like to that we find,
Whose fixed abode is in a righteous mind.
SEPHYRA.
WEll then, I see that kindness is too weak
Thy savage temper to subdue or break;
Which since it cannot my great cause defend,
That then on other motives I must bend.
I know that slothful jades refuse to stir,
Till in their sides they feel the gauling spur.
If thou art such, (and such thou seemest to be)
Expect the fruits then of my hate on thee.
Once when a woman prostrates her good
〈◊〉
Her Honor, Virtue, Chastity, her Fame,
To him she loves, if her designs she miss,
As one besides herself stark mad she is;
Big with revenge, therein impatient grows,
And frantickly all hindrance overthrows
Crossing her end; no charms may her asswage;
Even friends she sacrifices to her rage.
The sweeter wine at first is found to be,
The tarter, when corrupted, proves, we see.
Of once denied curtesies we find
The strongest malice ever left behind.
And these all menace thee, if to that joy
I kindly woe thee to, thou wilt be coy:
Where know, thou shalt no sooner this deny,
But in extremist Tortures thou shalt die.
Our passions to extremities dilate;
Flying the mean, we over-love or hate.
Thou then who art resolved no love to show,
Know, from this hour my hate on thee doth grow
Fierce and implacable. War I declare,
And what I can devise, I shall prepare
To work thy woe; all mischief then on thee
That falls, be confident it comes from me.
In deeds of black revenge we ever see,
The woman's faculties more pregnant be
Than those of man; for in profound deceit▪
And wise conduct she is the most complete.
Well, what invented or performed can be
Of fiercest plagues, shall all be flung on thee.
Each act of thine, or word thou shalt have said,
Shall kill thee, such constructions shall be made.
Nor yet enough, things worse I will do than these:
This crime of mine (such are our practices)
I will turn on thee, and stiffly this to be
A truth affirm, Thou wouldst have ravished me.
This to effect, my thoughts now in me frye:
No holding helps, all my inventions fly
Where anger leads▪ for me there is no cure;
Thou must my love obey, or rage endure,
Like a brave Soul, who when in prison pent,
Then more than ever in desire is bent
T'enjoy lost liberty. 'It is s
•
arce believed
What by extremities have been atchiev'd.
This dire affair I must and will conclude,
Though Earth, Sea, Fire, and Air should be renewed
In their first
Chaos:
And although thou art
Ne'r so resolved against my raging smart,
Yet I will proceed, and imitate the snake,
Whose head if catched, a tail-defense doth make.
So if I find there is no other way,
Thou thy denial with thy blood shalt pay;
Hereto I am arrived with steadfast mind,
As links in Chains, so sinful deeds are join'd.
Who ill contrives, he must proceed therein,
And for his cloak with nimble skill begin
His false complaint: they who first audience gain,
Though criminal, the just man's right obtain.
He who a villainy hath undertook,
Upon no lies with tender thoughts must look:
A face of brass must his defense become,
Lest ignominious shame should prove his doom.
When potent might is join'd with mortal hate,
What evil cannot these two powers create?
Like Thunder-bolts, all lets they overthrow;
And fear'st thou not what all my power can do?
Think on thy case; my Husband will believe
My words, and thee of all thy state bereave:
Commit thee to a Goal as dark as night,
Where neither Sun nor horned moon give light:
There then a cruel hangman shall torment
Thy flesh, and for thy mind fierce plagues invent:
A hand shall then (that never knew respect)
Dis-robe thy body, nakedness detect;
And on the painful Wrack thy members bind,
Them by his art unsufferably wind,
And sever joint from joint, from foot to hand,
As men before the fire the wax expand:
By a fierce wretch thy flesh then shall be pricked
With pointed gads; he shall thy mind afflict,
That from wished rest deprive, and the long night
Extract so all thy strength and youthful sp'rite.
Yet more! then water one shall pour in thee,
Which shall by stamps again expressed be▪
So that all tortures which can be devised,
Together shall on thee be exercised.
In that mean while if one should sadly ask,
Why thus thou must perform this baleful task,
Say then the truth: Because a beauty used
Kindness, love offered, which yet I refused.
Unheard-of folly! who will not deride
This frenzy? for thereto will be applied
Thy hateful deeds: O, most of all unwise,
Will all exclaim, who pleasure didst despise!
Justly doth sorrow now thy life devour,
Who bliss refusedst when within thy power.
Thou'rt duly plagu'd, whom pleasure did invite
To ease, yet who in dreams tookest more delight.
Thy patience thus shall standers by employ,
Though the sweet sin thou never didst enjoy.
All shall thy innocence then accuse,
And because guiltless, with all scorn abuse.
One that's tormented for deserved crimes,
Thinks for his sins this is of former times,
And therefore bears his plagues with quiet heart:
But guiltless to be plagu'd, 's a bearless smart.
Some ease it is in midst of all his grief,
To recollect past joys; 'tis some relief
Pleasures to bring to mind enjoyed of late;
But plagues unmerited are plagues too great.
When then long pains shall through thy vitals press,
Then shalt thou yet at last all true confess
Which shall be laid against thee, though never done;
And then is thy good name and glory gone.
What signifies a good report, if we
As criminals shall executed be?
If with transgressors 'tis our lot to fall?
For the end if bad, there's nothing good at all.
Be not beguile'd, the flesh is falsely frail;
Pain shall with thee (though just) to lie prevail.
How many Innocents when come to die,
Hath torments pained, hath pain constrained to lie?
But go soft-headed, for a beauty choose
Fantastick dreams, which do thy mind abuse;
For peaceful ease, swoln grief; for pleasure, pain;
Hate, for soft love; repining loss, for gain;
Uneasie Prison, flesh-oppressing bands,
For soft embracements in loves clustring hands;
The wracks fierce torments, for my easy bed,
And with all plagues for pleasures to be fed▪
Thus weeping choose, instead of to rejoice.
But ah! betwixt them there's too great a choice:
Far wiser 'tis thy
Sephyra
to love;
Thy youth to cherish is a wit above
The quenching of its heat; why shouldst thou tame
That in thy breast, which is but natures flame?
So many men throughout their lives there be,
Who on pitched planks do plough the pathless sea,
Hazarding Life and Soul for but small gain,
Whilst thou through love mayest mighty wealth obtain.
Since I my bed present, well mayest thou guess
Thee I design besides all happiness.
Thy whole desire, that but by signs expressed,
Shall strait be done unto thy hearts request;
Preserve this lesson; he who can contrive
How in our sheets he may to hunt arrive,
His work is done; thenceforth the gentle prey
Clings to her Hunter, and doth him obey.
When once a wife doth strangers beds frequent,
The spare-box gets a crack, the purse a rent:
Whose golden bowels then become possessed
By him, who hath most value in her breast.
What shall I add? she who hath given away
The key of all her honor, she the way
Hath to her treasure open laid, besides
Sharer in bed, in goods the same abides.
Hast thou not heard, that Riches to obtain
Through smooth Adultery is so sweet a gain,
So pleasant a contrivance, lightsome task,
That youth could never for a choiser ask?
Well, I have done; only this more would say,
As but a means from thee my rage to stay:
If yet thou wouldst but ease my inward pains,
For Iron-shackles thou with golden chains
Shouldst honor'd be, nor evermore molested
With slavery henceforth; but now invested
With freedom: nay, forthwith for thee I'd have
A place at Court, which I would either crave
Of
Potiphar,
or of the Prince: all know
How far with both of them my word can go.
But if thou seek'st wealth, freedom or renown,
Grant my request, and they are all thy own.
JOSEPH.
HOw! think you love may be by force upheld?
O you're deceived, no love will be compel'd,
It moves of's own accord; ill must they fare,
Whose minds forced wedlock doth together pair.
To desp'rate shifts though fear a man may move,
Yet no coaction can be laid on love;
That free inclined, submits to no command,
Nor doth of fear itself least moved stand.
If good, your cause you should with grounds uphold
More strong; but now remember what of old
Is said: the maid though coy, may yet be won;
But if the man refuse, the love's undone.
And sure I am, few ever found success,
Who love from any sought by force to press.
•
mall recreation in their chase they find,
Unwilling Hounds who force by stripes unkind.
By various plagues you threaten I shall die,
If I your passions to asswage deny.
With lies you say you will over-spread my name,
And to my Lord detract my spotless fame.
Yet I am unmov'd. Ay me! should I respect
The precepts of proud dust, and so neglect
The Oracles of God! my giddy head
And heart from reason then would be misled;
Should I a mortal fear? a wife before
My God with lowly bended knee adore?
A woman so inconstant, whose frail time
Hath oft a period in its youthful prime?
No, God forbid this folly; let me not
My self lay on my name a worser blot,
By foolishly assenting to your crime,
Than you can do but for a space of time.
Let come what will; let sour-ey'd scoffers mock;
Let scandalizing tongues disgorge their stock
Of venomous report; let cruel man
My mind and body torture all he can.
With obloquy, although I should be flung,
With malice torn, with fiery tongues be stung;
Though shame her excrements, and hate her gall
Should cast, I'd value none of them at all.
Who marks of truth hath in his Soul descry'd,
Doth with the Moon the snails of dogs deride.
A blameless mind is fearless, and outvies
The highest rage of hate, or brass-brow'd lies.
This makes us fear no pain, which death will ease,
When rage has done its worst, and us release:
Nor may the worst of tortures be compared
Unto the future joys for us prepared.
Yea, let your bloody Instruments with strict
And cruel plagues my tender flesh afflict
Beyond its strength, this shall be my relief,
My breast shall cheer me in the midst of grief.
Though on soft fires I should be laid to burn,
Or with red Tongs should be asunder torn,
Or dropt with scalding pitch whilst I am frying,
Or broken on the painful wheel, or dying
Through extreme tortures long endured, yet I
To God with comfort would advance mine eye.
He will, I know, the force of these asswage,
Or strengthen me in their extremist rage:
That whilst my hangmen in their malice toil,
I in their looks in spite of them shall smile.
If then 'tis asked, why suffers thus this youth?
While I can speak I will answer, Of a truth,
Because he rather chose this dismal end,
Than in foul pleasures all his days to spend.
But when my honest deed shall come to light,
(Nor can truth long lie hid in envious night)
Then so much earth I would but only crave,
Where rest at last my mangled bones might have;
Next, that this Epitaph might likewise be
On that black Marble rent, which shadows me.
Hereunder lies a slave in dismal grief who fell,
Because he loved his Mistress and his Lord too well.
A little beast there is, of snow-white skin,
Which placed down upon the ground, within
A ring of muck, from whence it cannot flee,
Unless its Fur shall all-defiled be,
There shall it stand, nay death much rather choose,
Than the lest filth its pureness should abuse.
O if my Marble likewise this expressed
In life-like action, 'twere my third request:
Thus then at least I shall this rest obtain,
Where such as you no more shall grieve again
My persecuted Soul, and this same thing
Among my bones shall make my spirit sing;
Adieu, vain world, alas, how vain to me!
That wouldst not yield me one days rest from woe.
My days, though but span-long, yet in them be
A world of griefs which me did over-flow.
Now they are done, and with them done my fears
Of restless evils, with my restless tears.
When in the world I lived with worldly men,
Their wicked Souls deep stained in sinful spot,
Would either stain me too, or grieve me then,
Nor might I 'scape their scourge, if so their blot.
But now I am there where wicked numbers cease
From troubling more, and where I rest in peace.
Because affliction sat upon my brow,
And was my mate, how men did chase my life!
Nor Goal nor Prison could suffice; for how
Men most might plague me was their manly strife.
But now their rage is done, no more I hear
The fierce
Oppressors
voice far off or near.
How have I groaned beneath the toilsome yoke
Of sin, and woes, which sinful deeds infold!
How have I wept my sins which God provoke,
So wearied out till all my days were told.
Now my tired bones this grave which doth receive,
From all these toils gives me a safe reprieve.
And while I thus rejoice, here yet will be
Those that will bless my happy memory;
In Sacred Hymns composed for this sake,
When in their hearts chaste melody they make.
Thus I shall ever live, though dead, when you
In infamy shall live forever too.
Whose memory will but exalt my name,
And infamy increase my greater fame.
From which of your persuasions then should I
Fear all your deaths, since I can never die?
No, since my death will be a gain to me,
And by your rage, from trouble set me free?
Well, I am resolved, death then I will rather choose,
Than my chaste body with vile lust abuse.
Think not I shall relent, I am fixed herein,
As much as you are to commit the sin.
Alas! you're still deceived, not pleasures past,
Shall the tormented then with ease repast,
If the effects of sin; 'tis guiltlesness
Shall comfort such in their extreme distress.
'It is known, they who are plagu'd for sin do dwell
That while, as in the dismal woes of Hell.
On God 'tis I depend: he will make me taste
Of his sweet life in death. Methinks I hast
Towards him with all joy, (though through the fire
You threaten) with insatiate desire.
O therefore think not I for fear of you
Shall God offend, and lust with you pursue.
SEPHYRA.
NOw must I say, (though sorry for thy sake)
Thou than to bend dost rather choose to break.
As clear as day I find it now most true,
What fancy will in sturdy humors do.
But what's this Spirit, thus that all things weighs,
That against every pleasure so inveighs?
Surely a sickness in the crazy mind,
When that to melancholy is inclined.
The lunatic of Castles in the air
So dream, and labor with ludibrious care,
Something, they know not what, to bring to pass▪
So thou but dream'st of things that never was.
'It is fumes of brain which in a foggy state
Of weather cloud it, and do dissipate;
When east-winds purge the air, and skies do smile.
This to regard I think not worth the while.
Shall I add more?—
JOSEPH.
N—No, 'tis enough, forbear;
Nor may you say, nor may I longer hear
Such Blasphemies. O thou longsuffering grace,
That such reproaches suffer'st to thy face▪
You speak but by him, yet that tongue employ
To utter words that would himself destroy!
This Spirit is no dizziness of brain,
But what in flesh and blood no faith can gain.
I do not marvel you cannot conceive
What in your thoughts you never did receive:
The Spiders cob-web can infold no winds,
Nor can the Spirit rest in carnal minds.
Night-Owls and twilight-Bats abhor the light,
And Sol's bright rays but cheer the blest with sight.
The Spirit in our Souls from God above
Is given, as an earnest of his love.
This is our comforter, our guide, our light,
Our Sanctuary in this gloomy night
Of grief, of error, darkness, and distress:
By this our wants in prayers we express;
Without it we are unsafe, nor can we say
What 'tis we want, much less for blessings pray.
Hereby our heart's celestially sublime,
And raised, become above the Moon to climb,
Above the stars, even to the sacred breast
Of God, the
Summum bonum
of our rest.
His hereby we are known; this is his Seal,
Which us his own, and him doth ours reveal.
It clears the clouds of ignorance away▪
Us to ourselves doth needfully display;
Begets all graces in us, kindles love
Within our breasts, which towards God doth move;
Destroyeth then all worldly love from thence,
And shields us from its hurtful influence.
The flowing honey-combs delicious taste
Is not comparable to the repast
This gives the Soul, in which its beams when shot,
It changes earthly pleasures into naught.
SEPHYRA.
NO way, I see, there's for me to prevail,
This Spirit or I mu
••
with might assail;
For all what I produce, and o
•
thee gain,
This wind repels, and renders quite in vain.
I am bent against this Spirit with fierce hate.
But come, I will know more thoroughly its state.
First, what's the
Flesh?
Jos.
Our nature since the Fall.
Seph.
The Spirit?
Jo.
That, which frees us from that thrall.
Seph.
Is Flesh our nature, which yet you resist?
Enough, hereon I purpose to insist.
For once, I will of our nature take the part.
Jos.
That you have long since done, with snaky art.
What ever you have said, I took the same,
As from the flesh substantially it came.
Hence if the flesh its sta
•
e you would detect,
On your own language then you must reflect.
Seph.
Now, be thou then the Spirit, that defend;
With thee this case to weigh I condescend.
What clause makes this▪ thou sayest, that each with hate
Should always with his flesh and blood debate?
Peace is commended by all men, we see;
But where there's war, how can there quiet be?
Where hate vindictive dwells, disposed to fight,
How can there grow the fruit of loves delight?
We are enjoin'd to love, which grace must flow
Continually from us; but do we show
Any thing of it, when with deadly rage,
Our flesh and blood to tortures we engage?
What contradiction and what madness too,
Does thy Soul utter and persuade us to!
We must seek peace, and yet must broils maintain;
Both love ourselves, and put ourselves to pain;
Our happiness design, yet that destroy:
Such Medlies does thy little Soul employ.
But in thy judgment none will join with thee,
I think, that are not mad, or changelings be.
All men commend the tractable, but none
The sour, morose, they are hated by each one.
He prospers in the world who to the times
Does suit himself, and yields to lesser crimes.
A creditable name hereby he gains,
And everywhere access and love obtains.
But the precise, how odious are they!
Such humors best
Fanatics
does display.
JOSEPH.
OF pious peace indeed, much might be said,
But shall conspiracy with sin be made
The peace enjoin'd? Can darkness dwell with light?
Or peacefully the Heat with Cold unite?
The living will not with the dead intwine;
Nor love the sound with the diseas'd to join.
The spriteful stripling will not be content
The flower of his affections should be spent
Upon a loathsome Carcass, void of Soul,
Whence crawling vermin in thick knots do roll.
And yet who with his vices is at peace,
Worser enormities commits than these.
Who will endure him in his house alive,
That of her honor would his wife deprive?
None sure will suffer in his tender breast
Venemous serpents peacefully to rest.
With him, you know, the Law is not content
To be at peace, whose mind's to Murder bent.
Chast women should at every season be
In feuds with Lust, and its temptations flee.
Peace is preserved, not broke thereby, whose end▪
To lasting rest within the mind doth tend.
The world the pliant love, say you, but hate
Those whom you call morose, and does debate
With them by adverse Fortune evermore,
Till they by tears their misery deplore.
But who are here these tractable you mean?
And who then those morose? the worlds esteem
Here will not stand, which must once judged be
By him, who then her Enemies will free
From their imputed guilt, condemn th
•
n those
Who yielded to the Laws she did impose.
Perswasions dressed in moving eloquence
For sinful ends, do therefore oft incense
Chast minds from hearing, and so them engage
To fly from that which doth their death presage.
For this give not reproachful names to these;
'Twill but the more discover your disease,
More odious far than those vile terms you vent
Against them, who to you are innocent.
Indeed in this respect we should give way,
When good persuasions move us to obey:
Here the intractable do merit shame▪
And justice for their punishment does claim.
If to God's word you order your requests,
We are agreed; farewell then our contests:
But if injustice you require, our peace
In that would but our misery increase.
Like the fond Ape, who with a strict embrace,
From her beloved brat doth life express:
Or like the fonder Mother, who a knife
Gives to her babe, with which it ends its life.
The Gardner prunes his spreading Vine, we know,
Nor barren branches doth permit to grow:
This is not strange, for which of us donit see,
That so the bearing may more fruitful be?
The festering
〈◊〉
is by the Surgeons cut,
Unto more strong and painful dolors put;
And yet it is notorious by this same
Proceeding, that a cure is all his aim.
Sharp corrosiving plasters, that are made
For dangerous sores, pain when thereon they are laid;
But when they are applied upon that part
That's sound, 'tis not at all perceived they smart.
My words, though harsh, if you cannot digest,
Your self's the cause, you're with sore plagues possessed.
The Spirits balm, which works in you that pain,
Had you the will, would yield you greatest gain.
SEPHYRA.
HOw woeful is that state which ever toils
In midst of fierce contentions, cruel broils▪
How miserable's he▪ who in his mind
A mutiny against himself must
〈◊〉
▪
Justly this Spirit doth
•••
plaints provoke,
So insupportable that makes our yoke▪
That presseth our assent above the sky,
Though we are made of earth▪ and cannot fly.
The mightiest Realms do certainly decay,
If in its bowels civil
〈…〉
.
Cities nor Families can longe
•
stand,
When deadly fewds within usurp command.
How should the heart within man's narrow breast
Find place in such a compass to digest▪
All those fierce broils, upheld with mutual hate,
Frays, quarrels, fights, which must admit no date?
For what is man but gliding smoke, a vapor,
A fleeting shade, a self-consuming Taper,
An empty air, a wind, a bri
•
tle thing,
And what else frail we
〈◊〉
for likeness bring.
If with this Vessel thou'
••
be thus severe,
Needs must the bands of life asunder tear.
As like a Mine, pressed with embowel'd fire,
Gives way▪ unable to contain its ire.
Wherefore should man so his endeavors bend
Against himself, and with himself contend?
Maintain within his Soul continual wars,
So being with himself at restless jars?
Mankind from women did, thou knowest, proceed,
Whose Mother was obtained with that speed,
When wooing words and fruit did her allure,
Against that force unable to endure.
Nor more than she can we, her issue, choose
To fall at words, such charms do they infuse:
What comes from Cats, is prone to flesh of Mice.
Our selves both love we cannot and despise,
Or our desires. Who can his natures frame
Forsake, or cross the dictates of the same?
We're of frail crudities, in lust begun,
Crudled as Cream, as Cheese together run,
Born in the Womb, fed with the breasts white flood,
Rockt with soft songs; in short, we are flesh and blood.
How will this nothing his desires assail,
Or with success against himself prevail,
Whose cruel victory does but portend
His miserable ruin in the end?
JOSEPH.
THough you disguise your lust in reasons dress,
Against it my dislike yet I will express;
Though against me your utmost you engage,
Yet I will oppose but with a juster rage.
Blest he, who in this quarrel doth persist,
With sin its cursed dictates to resist;
Happy that mind which evermore doth fight
With its own lusts, and contradicts their might.
There is a blest contest, a holy war,
An upright enmity, a gainful jar;
Again, there is a peace, a rest, a joy,
Which doth our Souls of all its peace destroy.
'It is not our loss that lusts a war maintain
Within our Souls, and put our flesh to pain▪
Our sins to see doth not proceed from sin.
To feel sins evil doth from good begin.
Though this seems strange, and wounds you to the Soul,
Yet it is true, our lusts we must control.
That evil which our certain death will prove,
We by its death should surely first remove.
Our most beloved lusts, our dearest pleasures,
Our carnal comforts, all our earthly Treasures,
We in our hearts must not endure to dwell,
Or else their fierce allurements there repel.
The most occult recesses of our mind,
That whereunto our nature is inclined,
Our frame, our constitution, we in chains
Must bind, as Rebels, and afflict with pains.
For by the Fall so hapless man declined,
That all was spoylt within his heedless mind:
And since so totally did sin deprave
His Off-spring, that 'tis only sin they crave.
Would it were with me as I'd wish to be,
Both from this world, and from myself I'd flee;
Such treacherous Companions do I find
Remaining in my bones, and in my mind.
Why hug we thus this world and worldly things,
Which no content, but sour vexation brings!
How is it that our Heaven-born Souls so prone
Are unto Earth, and not to God alone!
They that for Heaven intend, of Heaven must speak,
Heaven-wards must look, and through Heavens gates must break;
And they by constant labor must outdo
The restless malice of the Tempter too.
But why thus heap I words, where words are vain?
Briefly, Heavens road not easy is, or plain.
A thorny way, and through a thorny gate
It is that leads unto that blissful state.
Our hearts, I know, are full of crook'd desires,
In our best duties much of sin suspires;
Yet comfort we unspeakable may find,
That are his Children, for our troubled mind.
'It is beyond doubt the blessed Prince of peace
Shall come, and make our expectations cease:
His day I saw already in my mind,
And pressed his lips with salutation kind.
Long since I have beheld, as from afar,
A strange far-blazing glory, a bright star,
Boding great light, prepared for
Zeb'luns
day,
To visit those who in deep darkness lay.
Behold the wonder which on earth is done,
A Maid conceives, and doth bring forth a Son;
A Child, a wondrous Child, Heaven us doth grant,
Immanuel
called, Prince o'th' new-Covenant.
He was a man of grief, by's own neglected,
Despis'd, abused, defamed, mocked, rejected.
Patiently he upon his own self brought
Our shame, for sins which we had only wrought.
His Soul God filled with plagues, his Limbs were rent
With wounds, he by himself our punishment
Sustain'd, and we are by his stripes, his pain,
To God aton'd, and wholly healed again.
In unknown paths we wander'd from our way,
As scattered sheep without their shepherd stray,
But by the blessing of his Spirits guide,
Thenceforth a better way he doth provide.
As like a Lamb he's to the slaughter brought,
There as dumb sheep, when by the shearers caught,
He opens not his mouth, himself prepares
For greatest plagues, and all with patience bears.
For our cause he to our Tribunal went,
There sentence took, and thence to death was sent;
Whom when they first with bitter scoffs reviled,
They from the living to the dead e
•
il'd▪
But when his blood he shall for offering give,
His seed shall rise, and through him ever live:
For by his sufferings as our debt he paid▪
So shall the Fathers wrath then quite be laid.
Well, cheer up then, my Soul, no
•
now give way
To thy corruptions, or their laws obey.
Though thou by nature wast in lust conceived,
Yet from this Fall thou art by grace up heav'd.
God gives his Spirit which with might assails
Our lusts, and with sure victory prevails.
Which sanctifies the feeble Soul withal,
That else would down to each temptation fall.
SEPHYRA.
NOw I shall loose my wits. Preposterous fool,
Am I no nearer, all this while, my goal!
Still so unmov'd! no Songs but of constraint!
Come, 'tis enough, this is the old complaint.
Base is that mind that quiet peace disturbs,
To freedom that prefers enslaving curbs.
Withhold, thou cry'st, afflict, deny, restrain,
Force, over-rule, suppress, torment with pain,
Banish, nay kill out-right. Great
Nile,
what's here!
Unheard▪of Prodigies by human ear!
Ah slave, how well the ornament of chains
Befits thee, who delight'st in slavish pains!
But thou'dst enslave us too through sly advise;
Fool, didst thou then believe us so unwise?
My blood now rises into scornful spite,
To see thee in such follies take delight.
At once thou subject of all scorn and hate,
Methinks I in thy looks now read thy fate.
Fantastick sop, that take'st delight in woe,
Besotted friend of Tears, soft pleasures foe,
Rebellious-minded soul, at rest in jars;
In peace as restless, friend to cruel wars.
Thou perfect Bugbear to refining love,
Who ominous against thyself dost prove;
Mankinds misfortune, in a hapless time
Who sure wast born, and in a fatal clime.
Thou neither must nor wilt, resolved thou ar
•
But unto what, thy riddle pray impart?
Forsooth, a strange conceit within thy mind
There is of lagging miseries behind.
Didst ever feel them, fool? who told thee so?
O grave
Tradition,
whether true or no.
But thou shalt feel them now; thyself then tell,
If greater this, or thy conceited Hell.
I will now conclude, nor think that I will regard
Compassion more; let death be thy reward,
Or happy life, as thou shalt yield, or choose;
Yield to my passions, or that love refuse.
Fool, thou art too frail thy passions to defy
To a fierce conflict, or thy flesh deny.
Who with too rigid force his youth constrains,
Provokes his mind to break with-holding reins.
Jos.
Since now you have been pleased with snaky guile,
As for the flesh to argue stiff some while,
I pray permit me then accordingly,
That for the Spirit I may make reply.
Seph.
No,
Joseph,
time will thus be spent in vain,
What I have said, I now repeat again;
To my request if thou no ear wilt give,
Thou shalt repent that thou on earth didst live.
Observe it well. Yet how can I believe
That
Joseph
should himself of Bliss bereave?
Sure if I am right, more wit doth in him dwell,
And he will be wise when he considers well.
Thus by these things thou mayst behold my heart,
How thou most truly there beloved art.
Accept my caution,
Joseph,
have a care;
Embrace thy fortune, and of woe beware.
That which by th'chiefest Nobles of the Land
Hath been pursued, now thou hast in thy hand;
What erewhiles
Potiphar
with doubtful fears,
With dangers long, with pains, with Lovers tears
Obtained at length, and that by wondrous hap,
That of its self now tumbles in thy lap,
Sues for thy favor, pressed with restless fires,
Sports with thy Net, and to be caught desires,
Hangs on thy Neck, to thee flings up that door
Through which our youth have sought to go before;
That craves thy aid, towards thee lo that wings,
Offers itself, about thee gently clings,
Not to become thy Wife, but Love; invites
Not unto Wedlocks yoke, but lusts delights.
Needs must thou be a stock devoyd of pleasure,
Empty of every amiable treasure,
Nay human sense; and sure, if so, must then
Deserve exile from reasonable men.
If thy own happiness thou wilt forsake,
Nor wilt of these my choice delights partake,
Needs must thou be some stone, some sapless leaf,
Froward as seas, or than their banks more deaf,
Than Tops more whimsical, than hoary Ice
More nipping cold, and more than fools unwise.
•
ut no, it cannot be, I shall prevail,
Nor longer thus my grief in vain bewail.
Whom do not courteous smiles move inwardly?
What heart can stand before a woeing eye?
What inclination is so strangely nice,
Whom ruby lips should not to kiss entice?
With whom donit mirth prevail, smooth-faced delight▪
Whom tempt not dainties blessed with appetite?
Who if to him I say, Thee 'tis I choose,
So kind a Love yet basely can refuse?
Who can those arms, wherein he's straitly clasp'd,
(As like the Oak with clustering joy grasp'd)
Break loose with unkind force? Who can refuse
A beauteous Female for his Love that sues?
Well, I have done, what's said shall now suffice;
And sure enough is said to make thee wise.
Lo, for a while thy sight I will suspend,
But instantly to come again intend.
Be no more fond; thyself that while advise
To take good warning, to beware, be wise.
I leave thee thy own judge, thou from thy choice
Thy self mayest sentence with unerring voice.
Exit.
JOSEPH
alone.
DEar Soul, awaken, thouit become the game;
Against thy life is now this woman's aim,
Swell'd with revenge. By her fierce looks appear,
And wild behavior, what thou hast to fear.
She now her utmost valency assays,
To fright thee from all chaste and pious ways;
To cool thy zeal, for which she doth produce
What to her Cause may seeming strength infuse.
Thee sometimes fain she would with lust possess:
Deny'd, her note then doth in threatenings dress.
One while with flatt'ry strokes, then with constraint
Cruelly cha
•
es: alas, who can
〈…〉
•
n such uncertain conflicts, and so strong,
Where from our self proceeds our greatest wrong!
With what a show of reason does she dress
Her lustful Cause! nor equitable less
Does she in her unjustest force appear,
•
f we observe her with a carnal ear.
Alas, how Piety is still oppressed,
And innocence of right dispossessed!
The way we walk most slippery is found,
Where a small trip deprones us on the ground.
•
ow am I baffled with uncertain things?
My heart, if crossed, sinks low; if prosperous, wings
Above aspiring
Hermon,
more indeed
That bears than can from human strength proceed.
This lustful
Eve
to me her fruit commends,
•
nd with fair signs my observation bends
To guess the taste, whilst I its beauty view,
•
ut 'tis sure death if I her end pursue:
•
nd yet my flesh this danger will not see,
•
hough in the taste I know a death to be.
•
ur Father
Adam
so his wife believed
•
efore his God, and his dear Soul bereaved
Of all its bliss. Ah! by his strength if he
•
hough perfect could not stand, how then shall we
•
he Off-spring of his Fall, in wavering ways
•
hat are but constant, tossed in evil days?
•
he world's a Sea, our strong Desires the Winds,
•
he Ship our Flesh, the swelling sails our minds.
〈◊〉
left, we drive; and when in straits we fall,
〈◊〉
do we then find Ankors help at all:
•
hen mighty waves advance, then sail our minds;
〈◊〉
yet behold more tempests, fiercer winds.
We whilst we rest pursue, but toil acquire;
And what should quench our griefs, but feeds their
〈◊〉
When my fierce thirst to cool I do intend,
Enraged fires then lo my inwards rend.
My carnal gust in that great sweet doth find,
Which yet as Wormwood tastes unto my mind.
The vulgar tale if true, my case then seems
Like theirs on bed big with nocturnal dreams,
Who are with Night-mares, as with charms oppressed,
And then it seems a Rock is on their breast:
In which sad case, their spirits a cold sweat
Possess, who labor from this load to get;
They cry unheard, nor stir, for fear yet shake,
Till they again become as when awake.
Or I am like one who through surges breaks,
And him toa ship in life's distress betakes,
Where whilst for help his hands upheaved be,
Lo, by the Current he's compel'd to sea.
Yet now methinks I am like
Rebecca
more,
When she fierce
Esau
and my Father bore,
Where by two different natures of this pair,
She was of tumults in her womb aware.
Ay me, what strong commotions, what a fray
Afflicts my mind! I feel the thing I say.
But what's more strange? of one behold now two▪
Mortally bent each other to subdue:
This is the fruit of Soul-beguiling sin.
I fear not foreign, but strong powers within;
My bosom breeds the jar, the field's my heart,
Where two in battle each the other thwart.
To hate sins ways, the Law instructs my mind,
Yet in my members sin possessed I find.
I in the spirit upright paths would tread,
But by the flesh in ways perverse am led.
•
am in health, and sick, safe and forlorn;
•
live and die, am buried and new-born;
•
y zeal is hot, sometimes than frost more
•
old▪
Now I am afraid, and then again as
•
old.
•
burn and freeze, am blith and sad of mind;
I stand, and down I fall; I loose and find.
Provok'd by youth, that which fond youth doth please
I love, yet contrite tears produce my ease.
What man yet ever of such wonders read?
My health is by perpetual sickness
〈◊〉
▪
I am chas'd though I pursue, scourged though I strike▪
Even my own affections I dislike.
I am my own slave, yet my own self I fear.
What works my grief, eftsoon
•
I count most dear;
•
y these mixed thoughts I am driven to and fro;
Sometimes I am tost on high, then plunged as low.
Alternately thus they disturb my rest,
Whilst one commends what toother did detest.
Alas, what benefits a bolted door,
Since that's within which is my greatest sore?
Whilst above earth sometimes I mount on wing,
My gross desires me down amain do bring.
Now I am refreshed, then with my tears agreed.
Now retrograde I fly, then on proceed.
Now joys I feel, then grief my joys offend.
Now towards Heaven, then towards Hell I bend.
Now I am a Prince, then nothing straight at all.
Now strong I stand, then beneath thoughts I fall.
Now am I yea, then no; a storm, then still;
Now ebb, then flood; nor know I mine own will▪
Ah where's my help? my breast cannot contain
These differing powers; where shall my Soul remain,
Lust to escape? what by the Eye's espy'd,
And craved by th'flesh, by Reason is denied.
How strange a thing
〈◊〉
I? what can express
My composition in law
〈…〉
?
Half I am
〈◊〉
, half M
•
n, half black, half white;
Deform'd and
〈◊〉
▪ and half wrong, half right.
What dost
〈◊〉
do, my Soul?
•
ith suppliant knee
Go seek thy God, in this thy
〈◊〉
go flee
To him for help, th
••
knowest him great and strong,
And so for those that unto him belong.
He is the Lord of Battle, and will be
Thy Conquest;
〈◊〉
thou
〈◊〉
thy victory.
He'll make thee
〈…〉
, and will lend
Thee safety, and thy life from hurt defend.
Only for this thou must approach his Throne
Of mercy, and to him address thy moan.
No sin so
〈◊〉
yet with cruel might▪
Which prayer did not compel to shameful flight.
Prayer is our Harness which our minds doth shield.
That else to Satan's fiery darts would yield.
Then I begin:
Great God, my Strength, my Aid,
Grant I may stand this conflict undismay'd;
Give me the Conquest, let successful speed
Crown my weak
〈◊〉
, thou Savior in our need.
O let not lustful flames, desires unchaste,
Whereby so oft thy stamp's in us defaced,
Prevail a jot, but, Father,
〈…〉
me,
A Conscience pure to offer unto thee.
In myry Pits, behold, confounded I
Am come, where almost overwhelmed I lie;
Where, Lord, I find no standing for my feet,
Thou must send help, or I my
〈◊〉
meet.
Alas, how frail is man, whose holiest works
Are but vile rags, where ugly evil lurks?
His highest Sanctity's a withered leaf,
And even vile beyond his own belief.
His mind's whole frame through his whole course of life,
With evil times as with the stream doth drive
In this worlds sea, with various blasts
•
here
〈◊〉
,
And here, Lord, if thou help'st not, he is lost.
My feet in slippery places now abide,
With my own lusts I am stormed on every side;
All hands they break, they to rebellion run;
Lord, thy restraining grace, or I am undone.
And thy directing Spirit give thou me,
Ease thou my groans, support my feeble knee;
Defend thy child that trusts in thee from shame,
Salvation give, and glorify thy Name.
Distil thy Doctrine like a gentle shower
Into my narrow breast, there comforts pour.
Drench with thy living streams my thirsting mind,
And of thy right-hand-pleasures let me find
That measure in my Soul, that may exile
Thence sinful joys, as savourless and vile.
In times of old thy goodness thou hast shown
To me, whom thou adopted'st for thine own;
O then thine own defend, teach me to fight
Against my passions, which in sin delight.
These are but strangers in my soul, and she
That takes their part, a stranger unto thee.
On me O let them not gain any ground,
But their attempt do thou with shame confound.
I beg no worldly Power, nor Wealth do crave,
Or Regent Thrones, nor Monuments would have
Rais'd to my Name; nor pray I for great state,
Which Fame or human glory might create.
This only thing I wish I might obtain,
That of my heart a conquest I might gain
At this sad hour. If I am but safe within,
All outward force shall never make me sin.
Then cheer thee, Soul, God bows to thy complaint
A willing ear; I feel his loves constraint
Rejoicing me: In tears, methinks, my song
I now can make; at weakest I am strong.
O my dear Soul, the riches of that grace
Observe which fills thy heart: thy Savior's face
Go meet, behold thy God doth now begin
To knock at thy hearts door, haste, let him in.
What means proud lust to tempt my pure desire?
I in my Soul possess a better fire,
A holier Spirit, a more cogent power,
Which liberally God in my breast doth shower.
The new tunned Must, before it vent obtains,
Strong groans ejects, as if oppressed with pains
In the strait Vessel, wherein bridled long,
The bands at last it bursts, and then too strong,
The staves asunder rends, thence with uproar,
As with light feathers, in free air doth soar.
Thus with man's mind it is, now prone it lies
Dishearten'd, then encouraged doth rise,
So exercised, until the field it gains,
And by God's hand firm victory obtains,
Until immortal powers it can withstand,
And as it's self, so all the world command.
Well, what remains? shall this persuade my mind,
Because my Lady is to me inclined?
Shall her mad love enflame me with delight?
Or not much rather from such love affright?
For, how detestable it is when wives
Do sell themselves to lead lascivious lives?
When with unbridled lust the upright mind,
Themselves they tempt to deeds of brutish kind?
Those Monsters with their eloquence impure,
Prompted by lust, even men themselves allure;
Assault the chaste, and that from them request,
Which (though desired) should never be expressed.
Ay me, how have these things afflicted me!
From this vile woman I could never be free:
For when my Lord still absent was from home,
I could not go where she'd not likewise come.
Where then in lustful Rhetoric she dresses
Her lawless love, or that by signs expresses,
Such as her eyes can yield, or breasts exposed,
When to Adultery she is most disposed.
O with what art she sounds my tender mind,
Whether or no it be as hers inclined!
Sometimes my hand she kisses, then she woes
With fervent looks, nor know I what she does.
But who can love, nay, who will not detest
That suit first vile▪ and then by them expressed
Who should be woe'd, and in whose breasts should dwell,
That modest grace which doth in them excel.
'It is monstrous if it does not, since we see
Of this by nature they possessors be;
And since a want hereof doth in the vile
Constrain their love affrighted to recoil.
The most lascivious of their lust yet gain
Do make, and gold and lordly gifts obtain;
But me this woman gives no rest at all,
Her body prostitutes, and gifts withal.
The profligatest wretch with lustful
•
ires
Although he burns in his depraved desires,
Will yet pull in his flames at such a time
When lustful wives do court him to that crime.
Ah in my breast sha'nt I then horror feel,
With her, who her Lord's bed defiles, to deal?
To have to do with her, who would constrain
Me to submission to her lustful pain?
Sure modesty is women's chiefest grace,
A lowly eye, an humble bashful face,
Even then that blushes with a conscious red,
When, though of Marriage, ought to her is said.
Nor do I think is any man more vile
Than he who doth the Nuptial bed defile.
So he his Neighbors Heritage deceives,
And stones unknown upon his building heaves.
O thou luxurious flesh, shall now thy flame
Deprive my Soul of its most peaceful frame,
Of all its present ease, and sacred rest?
O no, thy valency, lo, is suppressed,
Thy fire extinct, thy chains shook off, and broke,
Thy embers are now ashes, flames but smoke;
Thy itch is cooled, nor hast thou power more;
I am now another creature than before.
O hater of Heavens rest, the Souls disease,
Friend to luxurious pleasures, to base ease,
To gormandizing lust, to deeds of night,
To all excess of sensual delight,
On me why fly'st thou with thy big discourse?
I am above thy menaces or force;
In spite of thee henceforward thou shalt stand
Devoted unto my more strong command.
For vain shall be thy charms, and vain thy force;
Choose either, thou in both shalt have the worse.
To God I have my Soul in prayer desolv'd,
Since which I find my mind far more resolved
In holy ways; and now a covenant
I with myself have made, no more to grant
The least compliance unto leprous sin,
However formidably she steps in.
First with my eyes this bargain I have made,
That my heart by them should not be betrayed,
Nor that they should a fatal glance convey
Upon a woman in a lustful way.
My curious ear I have severely charged,
No more attentively to be
•
nlarg'd
To soul-invading words; and to my hands,
To keep from violence I have heaped commands.
Then in my Soul this charge I have infused,
Never by any means to be seduced.
To lust in my desires bounds I have set,
Lest they should fall within this woman's net.
My rolling tongue I have threatened to take heed,
That from it no licentious words proceed.
And lastly, I a watch have set to keep
My thoughts both waking and in dreams asleep.
Well, now my Armor's on, wherewith I know
All opposition I shall overthrow.
My Helm is God's
Salvation, Faith
my shield,
My Sword's his
Word
; and thus I take the field.
Though now my Lady come▪ armed in the' defense
Of more encroaching or smooth Eloquence
Than the most oylie tongues of Whores yet knew,
My yielding yet should not for this ensue.
Although she now were here, and so to try
My mind, or cloak her crime, should raise a cry,
I would despise as well her love, as spite,
And stand unmov'd, or take a speedy flight.
Although her curious limbs she now should show,
Fair as the morning, white as new-fall
•
snow;
Her Ivory breasts though she should open lay,
And all her nakedness to me display;
Though richest presents she should offer me,
Wherewith the covetous beguiled be;
I'd all alike despise, and be aware
From falling by them in her fatal snare.
If at my feet she fell, I would not fear,
But soon if I could not step over her,
I'd trample on her body, then with flight
Make my escape, and get me out of sight.
Or with her arm if she to force me stand,
Should hold my cloak, I'd leave it in her hand,
Then if she should eject a clam'rous cry,
If needs I must, then out of doors I'd fly.
SEPHYRA.
LO here I come again, now I shall see
Whether thou art of men or beasts that be
Sprung from obdurate rocks, now know shall I
Whether or no thou from thy bliss wilt fly.
Come then celestial Soul, beauties renown,
My hearts desire, my joy, my glories crown,
My whole repose, my comfort, only rest,
My love and pleasure wherein I am blest.
Wisdom's residance, where best things resort,
Breath of my sighs, and my life's chief support,
My flame's original, my bosoms key,
Long who art woe'd, yet cannot entreated be:
I warn thee by the favors thou didst find,
From me, by my strong fires, by thy great mind,
Yet humble soul, by my tormenting smart,
By thy soft nature, by my wounded heart,
By thy large gifts, by a distressed's prayer,
By my desires, by thy surprising air,
By my affliction, thy professed truth,
Vouchsafe compassion on my tender youth;
Pity these cheeks from whence their blush is fled,
On which a flowing stream of tears are shed,
And this sad mind repleat with heavy cheer,
That bears thee only love and awful fear.
Pity, I pray thee, my blood-drinking groans,
My low estate, my heart-consuming moans,
And some refreshment to a Lover give,
Without thy favor that no hour can live.
Help my distress, I can no longer be
Delay'd; my grave extends its jaws for me,
My feet draw near to death: at last relent,
Set free my captive Soul with sorrow spent.
Thou seest my woe from my quick-rising tears,
From blubbered cheeks, from looks all pale with fears.
And thou mayest see my wounded heart now pant;
But canst thou see these, yet no pity grant?
O Boy, canst thou despise the conqu'ring charms
Of my fair body, of my naked arms?
Can'st thou refuse to mitigate my pain?
But woe is me, my sighs are all in vain.
I see I cannot thy fierce temper please.
As like a rock amidst enraged Seas,
Unmov'd thou art. O unrelenting stone,
I am whether mild or fierce, to thee all one.
But ifit be so, I by
Osiris
swear,
By the great
Cat
whom we a God revere,
Nay by the
Goat,
the awful
Crocodile,
And by the seven streams of sacred
Nile
;
By
Iris, Seraphis,
and what else more
In
Egypt
we as powerful God's adore;
I swear by my own Soul, by
Egypt's
Head,
Or thou art this day mine, or with the dead.
Upon this day depends our end of strife,
Or of my lust, or thy beloved life:
Howe're with me it goes, or I must flow
This day in pleasures, or in torturing woe.
Observe my words, without all doubt on thee
I will be revenged, or fraud shall lack in me.
But wherefore rave I?
Joseph
cannot deny,
No, 'tis my pulse he only first would try.
He till the last contains his young desire.
Wood that's yet green, will not at first take fire;
But when that wood doth once receive the same,
No piece so burneth with that solid flame.
Well, is it this, my dear, thou dost contrive?
Must first my passions to excess arrive?
O dally then no more; that minute's come,
Which will denounce, before it ends, my doom.
Thou therefore the necessity behold,
Which in it so much danger doth infold.
This is the utmost push, the last assay,
Which must conclude this so important day.
Although a Monster sprung from woods you were,
Fed with the Milk of Lyoness or Bear;
Although a Snake from craggy cliffs you came,
Yet sure my sighs would thy fierce nature
•
ame.
Then come, nor more my tender touch deny.
Jos.
Hold, think it not.
Seph.
You must.
Jos.
I will rather die.
Sep.
Now Joseph.
Jo.
Be ashamed.
Sep.
Ah might I!
Jo.
Still?
Seph.
Prithee embrace me, Boy.
Jos.
Who I? I will—
Seph.
And yet thou shalt not go.
Jos.
How then, I pray?
Seph.
Here thou shalt tarry, I have more to say.
Jos.
No Madam, 'tis enough, and all in vain.
Seph.
But friend, I hold thee, I will thy flight restrain.
Jos.
De'e sport?
Seph.
Come here.
Jos.
My mantle tears, let go.
Seph.
Come here, I say.
Jos.
No.
Seph.
But I will make thee know
Thou shalt, and love me too, ere I have done.
Jos.
Since it must be, then take my cloak; I am gone
To make my best escape.
Seph.
This thou shalt rue.
Jor, Zepho, Thinna, Gos,
all▪ all pursue
The wretch, 'tis highest time; my name's the aim,
I here endure unsufferable shame.
Jos.
Good God, what impudence! how will this end?
Seph.
Haste, haste, your Lady from a Rape defend;
A trayt'rous villain, brought from
Hebrons
soil,
Upon me runs, my body to defile.
His violence a
•
quickly, quickly tame;
The slave is full of lust, and void of shame.
JOSEPH.
ME, what anointed fraud! Hark, hark, I hear
Pursuing feet through all the house that bear
Sure death. Ah woe is me, what pur
•
ue cries.
Now shall this woman cloak her guile with lies,
And make a sad complaint, me to accuse
Of that which she against myself did use.
The Cloak I left her, when from her I brake,
Shall for her fraud no small advantage make.
My God, what help? what safety then have I?
Alas! I know not which way I shall fly.
The changes of these lower things, behold,
They but what's smoke and empty wind infold,
As like a Bubble now appearing fair,
Which in a
〈◊〉
dissolves in humid air.
Earths greatest dignities and chiefest good
Are like the flowing and the ebbing flood.
In splendid honor I this day did swell,
And now from thence am hurled as low as Hell.
Though guiltless now a shameful fall I bear,
Uncertain what must be my future share.
Ah me, on what, on what shall I resolve?
How in my breast shall I my case revolve?
Shall I with base subjection, like a slave,
Her guilt my guilt confess, and pardon crave?
Sure no, If I till now have lust denied,
In that good mind I will to the end abide.
How then? shall I unto the Court repair,
And there unto my Lord the truth declare?
O no, that house with happy peace that's blest,
May not be grieved for my desired rest.
Well, but what then? Shall I myself betake
Within, and there to each relation make
Of all that's passed? Nor that, 'tis not done well,
The crimes of Ladies to their slaves to tell.
What then? shall I the Country fly with speed?
As guilty, fly? that were a shameful deed.
'It is better patiently the worst to bear;
For flyers ever guilty we declare.
Besides, when slaves presume to run away,
For that they with their backs or necks must pay.
What then shall I conclude? high time 'tis now:
Resolve then this, my Soul, not hence to go.
Then be it so; I will wait here what may be
By God's Decree selected out for me.
To him I prayed, through him my fight renewed;
With him stood firm, and by him lust subdued.
From him the rest I will wait, and laugh at shame.
What should he fear, that trusts upon his Name?
Now I return to give due thanks to thee,
Great God, that from myself hast rescu'd me.
Although vain beauty did assault my eyes,
Thou helpedst me its witchraft to despise.
My feet from shameful fall preserved thou hast;
My Soul from ruin when with lust oppressed.
Be thine the praise; I will in thy Name delight,
So well who hast instructed me to fight
In thy dear cause. Towards thee I aspire
With longing Soul, thou end of my desire.
Henceforward my endeavors I will bend
In thy unspotted ways my days to spend.
Then shall my ways be in thy eyes upright,
When thou shalt aid me by thy Spirits might.
The Concluding DAYRY-EMBLEM▪ Discovering the Mystery and Nature▪ of this Religious Self-Conflict.
[illustration]
THis Churn behold without and inwardly,
As with thy bodies, so the Spirits eye;
And thus whilst thou reflectest on this thing,
Instructing matter it to thee shall bring.
Without 'tis still, within is uproar loud,
Like hollow drums, exciting battle proud,
When now two Armies in a Champain large,
Each others force prepared stand to charge.
The tumults cause is from two differing things,
Each other charging with enforced flings,
Within the Vessel. The insipid stream
Flows in the fat amongst the thick
•
Cream.
Hence the fray rises, where these each would smother;
Now one gets uppermost, and then the other.
The Cream's now under, then the tasteless Whay,
Holding in doubt whose the victorious day
At length shall be; till after tedious fight,
The well-wrought Cream doth by degrees unite;
And now of hue become like tried gold,
As in prevailing hands the Palm doth hold.
But though it floats above, it must abide
The dabblings of the Whay on every side.
Until a higher hand doth down convey
That wherewithal it bears it thence away.
Then in pure water thoroughly cleanseth it,
Preserves with salt, and into vessels
•
it
•
ncludes, and lastly crowns. Where this regard,
Who overcomes so shall obtain reward.
He who this discord 'twixt the Cream and Whay,
With profit now desires to overlay,
By an approved Limbeck let him bring
A noble matter from this trifling thing.
The Vessel here is
Man,
therein the Broyl
Presents the
War 'twixt thoughts both good and vile.
The Cream's the
Spirit
; Whay doth
Lust
Intend.
With restless spite each other these offend.
Awake, dull Saint, learn what's within thy heart:
The Spirit's not alone, nor th'flesh apart:
Their powers are mixed, as together grown;
Both in thee are as interwove in one.
Much like the glimmering Dawn, that goes before
The ruddy day, which doth man's cares restore,
Discov'ring neither Darkness, nor yet Light,
Not Day, not Night alone, but Day and Night.
Or like refulgent White with
Negro
hue,
Nor white nor black, but gray, betwixt the two.
Or like cold streams, which when to boiling thrown,
Is neither hot nor cold, but lukewarm grown.
Well, lo, the war begins, it goes to blows.
Each his All brings his Op'nent to oppose,
Fill'd with fixed hate. The Flesh embattel'd draws
Incorrigible youth, lusts 'nslaving Laws,
Sports void of bounds, and Deeds of guilty Night,
As Drunkenness and all obscene delight▪
Base worldly pleasures, Envy, and what's worse,
Lyes, treacherous Fraud, and filthy tongue▪discourse.
The Spirit calmly comes, begirt with Prayer,
With God's pure word, with words that seasoned a
••
,
With penitence, Humility, true Love,
Hope, conqu'ring Faith, and th'innocence o'th' dove.
The Combat's hot, where we may safely say,
It seems that Flesh and Spirit now display
Th'effects of fiercest hatred, as if so
They the Souls powers would straightway overthrow.
Until at last the struggling Spirit's found,
Though after many dangers, many a wound,
Far more divinely beautiful and bright,
And more puissant than before the fight:
Yet not without all blemish; since the mind
That yet possesses which to lusts inclined,
Whereby in fight, since though it keeps the field,
'It is oft compel'd to secret lust to yield.
Until the Lord his hand doth down convey,
And him from Earth by Death doth take away,
Translates into a Throne, purges from dross,
And glorifies, whereby he gains by loss.
Thrice happy he, (this firmly let's believe)
This
Good
who through God's Spirit doth perceive.
Thrice blessed is that Soul, who in this night,
This upright war upholds, maint
••
ns this fight.
Immortal praise, a Crown of great regard,
Prepared is for such a Souls reward,
Yet of pure mercy; our best works are sin;
What we enjoy doth from his grace begin,
For his Sons sake: the Lamb for us once slain,
Provides, that only they that Bliss shall gain,
In whom the work of grace is found begun,
And to whom God aton'd is through the Son.
Eternal Power, one God in Persons Three,
Blest who art in thyself 'above things that be;
Whence all things flow, with strength my mind possess,
When Devil, World and Flesh my Soul oppress:
Against these so instruct me to contend,
That I may reach that glory in the end,
Which for thy Saints in Heaven thou dost keep,
'Till in dark Graves their Flesh and Griefs shall sleep.
Certain godly Divines have epitomiz'd the Nature of the various inclinations of Man towards Good and Evil in this following Table, which I thought good here to insert.
-
The INCLINATIONS
-
1. Of the Carnal man,
- Evil. I do evil, and will do it.
- Good. I do not do good, and I will not do it.
-
2. Of the Regenerate man,
- Evil. The evil I would not do, that do I.
- Good. The good I would do, that do I not.
-
3. Of the Glorified man,
- Evil. I do not evil, and I will not do it.
- Good. I do good, and I will do it.
FINIS.
Books Printed for, and are to be Sold by Robert Sollers, at the Kings-Arms and Bible in St. Paul's Church-yard.
SAncti Ignatii Martyris Epistolae genuinae, • x Bibliothecâ Florentinâ. Adduntur S. Ignatii Epistolae, quales vulgô circumferuntur. Ad haec S. Barnabae Epistola accessit universis Translatio vetus. Edidit & Notas addidit Isaacus Vossius, 4 o .
Johannes Swammerdami Amstelredamensis, M. D. Miraculum Naturae, sive Uteri Muliebri Fabrica, notis in D. Joh. van Horne Prodromum illustrata; & Tabulis à clarissimis expertissimisqu • Viris cum ipso archetypo colatis adumbrata. Adjecta est nova Methodus, Cavitates Corporis ita praeparari, ut suam semper genuinam faciem servant; ad Illustriss. Regiam Societatem Londinensem Figuris, ante hac erosis, jam accuratissime exsculptis, 8 o .
A Discourse concerning the Beauty of Holiness, by the Author of the Duty of Man, &c. 8 o .
Rome a la mode; Or, The true Sentiments of the Court and Cardinals there, concerning Religion and the Gospel; as they are delivered by Cardinal Palavicini, in his History of the Council of Trent, 8 o .
Syncrisis; Or, The most natural and easy Method of Learning Latin, by comparing it with English. Illustrated in fourteen Copper-Plates; with the rude Translation opposite for the Exercise of those that begin to make Latin. By E. Coles, School-Master, 8 o .
Cocker 's Arithmetic; being a plain and familiar Method suitable to the meanest capacity, for the full understanding of that incomparable Art, 12 o .
Urania Revived: or, the Muses Spring-garden, adorned with many sententious Dysticks & Poems. By E. Cocker 4 o .
A short Treatise of the Combinations, Elections, Permutations and Composition of Quantities. Illustrated by several Examples; with a new Speculation of the Differences of the Powers of Numbers. By Tho. Strode Gent. 4 o .
Two small Treatises: The first, A farther Essay towards the History of this present Fever, with its two ••• ducts, the Morbus Cholera and the Gripes; wherein are proposed some effectual Methods for the Cure thereof. The second, A Medico-Philosophical Analogy betwixt Vegetable and Animal Juices. Both humbly offered to the consideration of the College of Physicians, by W. Simpson, Doctor in Physic, 12 o .
The Life of Herod the Great; wherein his inhumane Cruelties are briefly, but accurately, related: with an account of his fatal and miserable end, 4 o .
Royal Loves: or, the unhappy Prince: a Novel.
FINIS.