University of Virginia Library

Oh what a happy thing 'tis to be bred
Of godly Parents, and well tutored;
Especially for Kings, whose education
Brings happinesse or ruine to a Nation;
Yea Subjects children, bred too tenderly,
Infect a City, Town or Family,
With lewd examples, quickly followed.
By Precepts wee are dragg'd, by Patterns led.

Now David by too good experience,
Had prov'd what mischief comes by indulgence,
In breeding children; Amnon grown so bold,
He might not by his Father be control'd
For foulest incest, Manchas Absolon,
Hath kill'd the Prince his brother and is gone.
Faire Thamar now remains more desolate
By Amnons murther, than his rape or hate;
Revenge that's private, lawlesse shedding bloud
Without the Magistrate, doth no man good;
The Murtherer in exile must remain,
Till Joab comes to bring him home againe,
Who taking for's Companion Abishai,
Lo thus begins discoursing on the way.

Many that are indeed, or would seem wise,
And by the past, of things to come, surmise,
Do hold that in all bodies politick,
Diseases are, as men, are well or sick,
That rising Kingdomes periods have, which past,
They like our bodies here, decline and waste,
Till their last ruine; and, as bodies, states
Beginnings, risings, fallings have and dates:
And sure 'tis no hard matter to observe,
How states are healthfull, thrive, decline and sterve.
But he's the Statist profitably wise,
That knows their sicknesses and remedies,
Be their disease in body, feet, or head,
By Prudence they may be recovered,
But he indeed is Master of his Art,
That keeps th' infection from the head and heart,
The King and Army, for by these, lo all
Monarchs and Kingdomes flourish, rise and fall;
And sure we seldome see a remedy
Of such infection, but Phlebotomy.

Nought more (saith Abishai) foments the rude
Seditions of the giddy multitude,
Than those our wandring Levites, discontent
At Churches, or the Kingdomes government;
Their reason why they are so disaffected,
Is, that they think their gifts too much neglected,
That they are not assum'd, yet able are
The weight of government alone to beare;
And therefore new Church Orders will devise,
To make the people all the old despise,
And thus would bring into the peoples hate,
All ancient governours of Church and State.

Lo! this disease, now good experience finds,
Like plague of Leprosie, infects the minds
Of people, and instilling close dislike
Of Governours, at Church and State does strike.
These seeme, at first, low on the ground to creep,
But soon they into Counsell Chambers peep;
Where, though they dare not reach up at the Crown,
They all that are above them would pull down;
And if our Rulers negligence give way,
Whereby they may but seem to beare the sway,
They such strange Church-disorders will propound,
As quickly would both Church and State confound,
Agreeing all to crosse what Law commands,
Yet differing in their severall demands.

Some Statists think that this distemper growes
The more, that Rulers strive it to oppose:
But our too late experience hath found,
How dangerous 'tis, to give these humours ground,
Though scarce a great man meddles in these actions,
Except some few to strengthen more their factions;
I wish such to some new-found Land would go,
That we the sound might from the th' infected know.

Alas! saith Joab, these vain idle rude
Distempers of the brainlesse multitude,
Are by a purge or vomit quickly spent,
Or turn'd into the bodies nourishment:
They most, in times of wanton peace, do breed,
Begot at first of Humour, and do feed
On Ayre, popular applause, I mean,
No Policy can them extirpate cleane,
So long as there is moisture to supply
Juice to the root, if that once faile, they dye.
Many divine of changes in our state,
Because our King hath been unhappy late,
Since his last marriage, his Child is dead,
His first-born slaine, his daughter ravished,
And Chileab is lost, his second Sonne,
So now his heire is Maachas Absolon.
Few but my selfe, our States disease do know,
Whereby so many troubles on us grow,
Our sicknesse is of sinne even in the head,
Which (as diseases most by ease are bred)
Grew in the King, when he too much did yeeld
To pleasure, whilst his Armie lay in field.
For whereas in all Battailes he was wont
To be most valiant, and the first in front;
When we last went against the Ammonite,
He in his Palace had another fight,
Till plainly I discover'd, past all doubt,
The Citie Rabbah could not long hold out,
I sent for him to th' taking of the same,
Lest it were called after by my name.
Not to delay thee long, although the King
Did sin in secret, God would have the thing
To all be known: vain hope 'tis to conceale
Our sinnes from men, which we to God reveale.
Sweet Bathsheba, Judeas fairest Maid,
By divers Princes courted, woo'd and prai'd,
At last was carryed by the bravest Lord,
That ere in Monarchs quarrell drew a Sword;
A Hittite, but the noblest of his house,
Wise, modest, valiant and religious,
Who 'mongst King Davids Worthies had a name,
And second was to none in worth and fame.
Nor was she faire without, and inly base,
But like Gold Picture in a Silver case,
Was by this Lord belov'd, and lik'd agen,
Thus fairest Dames make choise of bravest men.
A happy unim and a blessed paire,
As truly vertuous as seeming faire,
In true affection tide, and link'd in love,
As Spheares which by one mutuall motion move;
So she him honours, and he is so kind,
They seem'd two bodies govern'd by one mind:
Yet were not their affections more combind,
Than Love and Honour in them both conjoind.
Was ever Virgin to the Temple led,
More chaste than she into Uriahs bed?
To revelling she seldome would resort,
But was most part a stranger at the Court,
Whose strange and new attyres, she did not know,
Where Ladies naked brests, and shoulders show,
Like Chapmen, who their wares shew to the eye,
And bid you like for love, for monie buy:
Love never friends more closely fastened,
No Turtles truer to each others bed.
There Love and Honour arme in arme did stand,
But ever Honour had the upper hand:
Whereof a proof to thee Ile briefly tell.
When Hanun had reproached Israel,
In violating with imprudent hands,
Our Kings Ambassadours, the sacred bands
Of mutuall Amity 'twixt State and State,
By David sent, him to congratulate,
Their beards and garments shaving to the thighes,
In foulest scorn, as if they had been spies;
And that he saw, he stank in Davids sight,
He hir'd the Syrian and the Aramite
Against our King, which when he understands,
He mad commands to muster all his bands,
And men of might: of which not one did I
Wish more, than brave Uriahs company.
And therefore where my Officers I sent
To others, at his house, to him I went,
Where I them found inchain'd in Lovers charms,
Delighting sweetly each in others arms;
When I made known to them the Kings command,
Amaz'd they gazing each on other stand:
A while with deare affection, honour strove,
But Honour got the victory of Love.
And she begins; my Lords, I must confesse,
I like my husband, know no earthly blesse.
But not for beauty, wealth, or wanton love,
Did I desire to make him mine, above
All other Princes, that to me did sue,
But for his valour, worth, and honour true:
But since he cannot serve to my content,
Without his worths and honours detriment,
Go chearly forth, let it be never said,
With thee thy courage in mine armes is laid.
Should you want men, these womans armes should fight,
To be revenged on the Ammonite,
Who on Gods people put so foule a scorn,
As never any Nation could have born.
These Sweet expressions of her loyall love,
A heart of flint, or sullen brasse might move
To pitty her: I must confesse my heart,
Till then did never act a yeelding part.
Thou knowst in what fierce battails I have been,
What cruelties in Conquests I have seen,
When we the hated City Rabbah sackt,
How diversly the common souldier rackt,
All of both sexes, were they young or old,
To make them shew where they had hid their gold.
The streets on all sides eccho'd plaints and grones,
And childrens braines were dasht against the stones,
Here babes hang sprawling on a Souldiers speare,

Lady faire, one drags out by the haire,
Whilst other from her teare her rich attire,
Then throw her naked body in the mire:
Lo here a child and mother, loth to part,
Are nailed fast together with a Dart:
Here little babes not knowing ill from good,
Do play and paddle in their parents blood:
All Captives which we took, thou sawst put under,
The Tile-kils, or with Sawes cut quite asunder:
Some we with iron Axes hew and pare,
And some we under iron Harrowes tare.
All these fierce Hostile furies did not move
Mine heart, so much as these effects of Love.
So as indeed I was content to yield,
Bathshebas brests should be Uriahs field.
But she repli'd, Lord Joab, I do hate
To purchase pleasure at so high a rate,
And therefore wisht her husband to prepare
Himselfe for Armes, the rest should be her care.
A tender Mother that hath only one,
Most carefull is in breeding up that Sonne,
Soon as he for some place in Schoole is fit,
Where are best helps for to enrich his wit,
When time's at hand, that he should thither ride,
And be disjoyned from his Mothers side,
Although his absence grieves her at the heart,
Yet for his good, she's willing he should part,
She trusts some friend a Chamber to prepare
At Schoole, whilst she for needfull things takes care;
So Bathsheba commends her onely one
To me, to care for, as my dearest Sonne:
Nor ever would omit, what might advance
Her husbands honour, worth and valiance:
Thus were we by our King sent out to fight
'Gainst Ammon, Ishtob and the Aramite.
Where, as we neere approach'd the City Gate,
We Arams host behind us spide, though late,
When as before us, lo! the Ammonite,
In Battaile ready set, came out to fight.
When I the Battaile thus in front did finde,
Ammon before, the Aramite behind,
I put the choise of Israel in array
'Gainst Aram, and the rest, my Abishai,
I did commit to thee, that thou shouldst fight
Most valiantly, against the Ammonite.
Whom, if thou wert unable to resist,
I promis'd thee mine aid, and if I mist
Thy help 'gainst Aram, thou shouldst help agen,
If ever, said I, play the valiant men.
We for our Cities, and Gods people fight,
Let him do what it seems good in his sight.
Against proud Aram soon I got the day,
Which Ammon seeing, turn'd and run away
Into their Town, we to Jerusalem,
Return'd with honour, having beaten them.
But hauty Sirians, scorning one should tell,
That they were vanquish'd thus by Israel,
Great Hadadezar, that same potent King,
To whom the petty Kings did presents bring,
Sends for the Aramites beyond the Floud,
And came againe to make their quarrell good.
Which David hearing, them at Helam met.
Where both in battaile each 'gainst other set,
He all his Chariots and Foot-men lost,
With Shoba that great Captaine of his Host.
But when the Kings saw Hadadezer fell,
Their greatest King, 'fore th' host of Israel,
They made their peace, and being weak and poore,
Resolv'd to helpe the Ammonite no more.
Thou me about hast with long stories led,
But what's this to the sicknesse of the head;
All this, saith Abishai, I saw and know,
I will forthwith, saith Joab, briefly show,
But we old men, ('tis held a fault in all)
Are in our Tales too circumstantiall.
But this that to my purpose was so fit,
I could not without prejudice omit.
These were the speciall reasons mov'd the King
To root out Ammon, for the following Spring,
About the time that Kings go forth to warre,
His Souldiers David muster'd neer and farre,
And me against strong Rabbah with them sent,
Whilst he at home in ease liv'd, and content;
Where as one evening from his Couch he rose,
Which he did often use for his repose,
And walking on his houses Battlement,
To view the glorious Starres in Firmament,
(Which now the Sun had new withdrawn his sight,
Began to shimmer with their borrowed light)
Lo he from thence a glorious object spyes,
Which makes his heart do homage to his eyes,
Out of the water he discerns a light
Arise, more glorious than the Queen of night,
And yet he thought it could not be the Moon,
Her beauty borrowed is, this was her owne.
Yet 'twas a woman, but of such a feature,
As in her frame, all Arts conjoyn'd with Nature,
Who sate all naked in a velvet chaire,
Broad-spreading with white Comb her golden hair,
Which as thin clouds do, oft in Summers night,
Obscure the beames of fairest Cynthias light,
So shadowed her haire from Davids eyes,
Her singular admired rarities.
But soon she leaps into the water light,
VVhere lo, she shines like to a Lilly white,
In purest glasse, or as we see a Grace
Idea'd sweetly in a Christ all Case.
To make the way seem short, I to the life
Describe the beautie of this Worthyes wife.
One while with armes as if with oares she drives
Her swimming body, and anon she dives;
One while upright, she in the water stands,
Above her head it pashing with her hands,
VVhose drops upon her haire like pearls did leap,
VVhich falling down do seem to mourn and weep.
But best might the particulars appeare
Of her sweet countenance and beauty rare,
VVhen like faire Roach (which on a Summers day,
Bove water leaps, as Fishes use to play.)
She leaves the Bath, and on a chaire set higher,
Her Maidens haste with warmed clothes to dry her.
Then lo, her soft silk hayre with curled folds,
Out-braves the brightnesse of sweet Marygolds,
Her Ovall front, her nimble vigorous eye,
VVhere's sweetnesse, humblenesse and majesty,
Her browes thin haire, as silver fringe adorns,
Like Cynthias beames, when first she shewes her horns:
Her cheeks sweet beds of Lillies and of Roses,
Betwixt which, like a rising hill, her nose is,
Beneath that lo her lippes like Rubies show,
Or Red-rose bud that new begins to blow:
Below which, lo a valley dimpled in,
Us leads to flowry hillock of her chin,
Her Ivory necke, which doth her head uphold,
Like silver handle to a cup of Gold,
On her faire shoulders is by joints so plac'd,
It turns like golden fane, yet stands as fast.
Beneath which rise her either silken brest,
Like paire of milk-white Pigeons in a nest;
Or like the first forbidden fruits of sinne,
VVhereof first Eve to Adam did begin,
Or like two bunches of a fruitfull Vine,
And when she blushes like to sops in wine;
Her either band as richest Cabinet,
Had on each finger Pearles and Diamonds set,
Each lim of her beseem'd even Beauties Queen,
I only now describe what may be seen.
But when her warmed clothes had sucked in
The water, loth to leave so faire a skin,
She from her chaire leaps nimbly to her bed,
And from his sight with clothes was covered:
Which more amaz'd the King, than all the sight
Before could yeeld him comfort and delight:
So have I seen in clearest Summer night,
Dart from the skies a Lamp of shining light,
Whereat rude people stand amazed all,
And sweare they saw a Star from Heav'n to fall,
Which doth portend, say they, great alterations
Of State, Sword, Famine, Plague or Inundations.
But how, saith Abishai, at even-tide
Were these sweet Beauties by the King descri'd?
Quoth Joab, brother 'twas not so late night,
Where Sun was set, but by the Heavens pure light,
The King might easely look down from his Tower,
And see a Lady bathing in her Bower:
Yea Abishai thou knowst in darkest night,
Where such a Sun doth shine, there needs no light.
Thus he that late ascends the Battlement,
To view the glorious Starres, and Firmament,
And in them to admire Gods grace and glory,
With too much gazing, sings another story:
Lo he whose soule was like a weaned Child,
Pure, simple, abstinent, and undefil'd,
Becomes impure, thus is base slime and dust
From heavenly thoughts proclive to fleshly lust.
He first looks to inquire, then with delight,
Next with consent, last with sharp appetite.
Thus Achan looked, lik'd and coveted
The cursed Gold, and thing prohibited.
Base lust of th' eye, that sets our mind on fire,
And burnes us with inordinate desire:
Uncircumcised boasting Philistin,
Who, if in single fight, he gets within,
Doth conquer all, and therefore David chose
To fight with him at distance, never close.
But now that he is call'd to single fight
With spirituall Philistin, of greater might,
Contrary clean to that he did before,
Than closing, he desireth nothing more;
And therefore soon as he could well inquire,
And find 'twas Bathsheba, he did desire,
He sends one of his Chamber, to invite
Her to the Court, sometimes to take delight,
Till her belov'd Uriah did return,
And not to sit all day at home and mourn:
Glad was the woman, that her Lord and King.
Did so much for her Husbands honouring,
And sayes, though for Uriahs safe retire,
To pray and mourn I onely do desire,
I will my self and him this thing denay,
Ere I my gracious King will disobey.
Soon as the King her in the Court doth see,
Amongst the Ladies, like faire Cypresse Tree,
Amongst the Shrubs, or Cynthia shining bright,
Amid the twinkling Starres in frosty night,
He first begins her beauty to commend,
And blushing kist her cheek, and calls her friend,
And said that if he might a servant be
To such a beautious Mistris: his degree
Of State should bow, her humbly to observe,
And do his best her favour to deserve.
Thus though her Husbands Honour first did bring,
This Dame to Court, yet proud now, that a King
Should there confesse, he did such service owe,
(For few faire Ladies but their beauty know)
As ready was to take as he to offer,
All Complements of Court, the King would proffer,
Not once suspecting such a godly King
Would offer her the least dishonouring:
Nor could all Satans cunning him have brought.
At first, to entertaine so foule a thought,
But as a simple Lambe on flowrie banks
Of Jordan bounds, and leaps, and playes his pranks,
Till his faire shadow in the watry glasse,
He spies, which seemes the substance to surpasse,
Whereon he nigher comes, and comes to look,
Till unawares he falls into the brook,
Whence he may strive to get out, but in vain,
The streames by force him carry to the Main:
Even so the King at first begins to play
With her pure band, as on his Couch he lay,
Then gazing on her eyes and modest face,
Reflecting beauties, like a Looking-glasse,
He unawares in Beauties snare is took,
Ev'n as the Lamb was drowned in the Brook.
Oh lothsomnesse, deceitfulnesse of sinne?
The sweetnesse, bitternesse we finde therein,
Beginnings, fawnings, growing, terrour, smart,
Our weaknesse, Satans envie, mans false heart!
Thus Mortals (which to Heaven should seek the way)
As Fishes, which in fresher water play,
Swim in delights, and lustfull pleasures all,
Till unawares they in the dead-sea fall:
But as you evermore shall see one sinne
Beget another, to lye hidden in,
So David, his Adultery to hide,
Commits first drunkennesse, then homicide,
For she perceiving that she had conceiv'd,
And fearing lest (for being so deceiv'd)
The Lords and all the people would her blame,
Because her Lord could not beget the same,
Who had been three full months to battail gone,
Before her bathing, and the act was done,
She hereof closely certifies the King,
Who seeks thus to provide a covering,
He sends to me a Letter, which requir'd
Uriah home, as if he had desir'd,
To know by him, how all things did succeed,
But 'twas to father what his wife did breed.
In brief Uriah comes, and doth relate
To David mine, and all the peoples state,
And how the warres went on, and prospered,
Then David wisht him get him home to bed,
Refresh thy self, thy journey hath been great,
And after him he sends a messe of meat.
But brave Uriah, hating all delight,
Or pleasure, which disabled him to fight;
Among the Guard did all that night attend,
Nor would to his own house, and wife descend.
Which when the King, next morrow, understands,
He of Uriah thus the cause demands.
Brave Hittite, may thy King the reason know?
Why this last night, when thou didst from me go,
You went not home, but tarryed with my Gard,
As of thy journey thou hadst no regard?
Who said, the Arke with Judah, Israel,
And my Lord Joab in their Tents do dwell,
Abroad i'th' field: What then, shall I alone
Lye with my wife, and eat and drink at home?
As thy soule lives, and as thou liv'st, O King,
I am resolved not to do this thing.
The King yet caus'd him in the City stay
All that, and afterwards another day,
In hope at last he to his wife would go,
But when he found that this way would not do,
He makes him in his presence sup that night,
And drink down healths, untill his head was light,
Yet he his wife regarded nere the more,
But with the Gard all night lay as before.
Oh such brave Spirits, saith Abishai, would raise
Unto themselves and us immortall praise,
Were they but, as they due deserve, regarded,
But see, saith Joab, how this was rewarded?
He brings a Letter sign'd with Davids hand
To me, which did to this effect command:
“Of thee, and of thy host I did inquire
“By this, and finde all things as I desire,
“This onely now to thee, I do not find
“This Hittite answerable to my mind,
“And therefore set him formost in the fight,
“Where thou discern'st the men of greatest might,
“And when he is in danger, soon retire,
“And let him dye: No other cause inquire,
“Of thy King David. Having this command,
My part was to obey, and not to stand
In disputation, were it wrong or right,
And therefore where I saw most men of might
Defend the walls, I brave Uriah sent,
Where all succeeded just to mine intent,
Of Davids servants many likewise fell,
Both of Judea, and of Israel.
Whereof, when first I certifi'd the King,
He seemed much displeased with the thing,
But when he heard Uriah also di'd,
His wrath appeas'd, he thus again repli'd.
Salute thou Joab, tell him after-care
Or grief avails not 'gainst the chance of Warre,
For thus the sword doth usually devoure,
All that do come within his reach or power:
Be not discourag'd, make thine Armie strong,
To be reveng'd of this and all our wrong.
What said his wife, saith Abishai hereto?
Ev'n mourn'd for fashion, as rich widdowes do,
Saith Joab, but as soon as that was done,
The King her makes his wife, and takes her home.
The joy to be a Queen soon dryes her eyes,
And with her husbands murtherer she lyes.
Wondrous iniquity, saith Abishai,
I never heard the like, untill this day,
A head distemper'd thus cannot but ake,
And make the heart and all the members shake.
He were a man of wondrous wisdome sure,
That could to this disease apply a cure:
Is not one Prophet left in Israel,
That dares the King of these offences tell?
Yes sure, saith Joab, there's a skilfull one,
Hath searcht this sore unto the very bone,
Good Nathan, yet with such a gentle hand,
He made the King his faults to understand,
By telling others, so the sore did presse,
With prudent, gentle, pious tendernesse.
For Prophets that reprove such faults in Kings,
Must strike at one, to sound out other strings,
And not reproach their errours to their faces,
Nor publish to the people their disgraces.
Since Bathshebas conception did begin,
The King stept in this Lethargy of sinne,
They both had like beginning, life and growth,
And have like bringing forth, and birth of both.
As skilfull Leech to cure his Patients ills,
With gold oft covers bitter wholsome pills:
So Nathan doth this Parable apply,
A seeming-sweet but bitter remedy.
Pardon my Liege, saith he, if Justice I
Desire, when sinnes to Heaven for vengeance cry,
Lo in a City were, nay which is more,
Still are two men, one rich, the other poore,
The rich had mighty Heards and Flocks, the poore
A little Lambe had onely for his store,
Deare bought, which he at home with him did cherish,
And even amongst his sonnes and daughters nourish,
Drank of his cup, eate of his bread, and ay
As his own daughter in his bosome lay.
But lo, a stranger to the rich man came,
Who secretly purloins the poore mans Lamb,
Whereof he for the stranger doth prepare,
And his own Heard and all his Lambs did spare.
Now as the Lord lives, David doth reply,
The man that did the thing deserves to dye;
Besides he foure-fold shall the Lamb restore,
Because he was so cruell to the poore.
As he that doth besiege a mighty Tower,
Doth use at first more policy than power:
But when the breach is made, and he got in,
To shew his strength and courage doth begin:
And as we see Ambassadours of Kings,
In formes are curteous, but advance the things,
Which unto them their master doth command
With resolution, so doth Nathan stand,
The breach with as much courage to maintain,
As he the same by subtile meanes did gaine:
Thou art the man, saith Nathan, thou alone
This vile abhominable thing hast done;
Thou art the rich, Uriah was the poore,
Thou hast thy choise of wives, he one, no more,
Which thou hast ravisht, and her husband slain,
The wicked stranger, lust to entertain.
This is the thing I must make plainly known,
The words I speak are Gods, and not mine own.
I have annointed thee the King of all
My people, and thee freed from hand of Saul,
I gave to thee thy Masters house and wives,
And to thy hand committed all the lives
Of Israel and Judah, and would more
To thee have given, if thou hadst wanted store:
Oh! why shouldst thou my Precepts thus despise!
And do this wicked evill in mine eyes?
The stout Uriah by thy sword is dead,
And thou his wife hast taken to thy bed.
This Worthy oft escap'd more dangerous fights,
Thy sword hath kil'd him, not the Ammonites.
The sword shall never from thine house depart,
Because thou hast despised me, and art
Defil'd with ravishing Uriahs wife,
And for thy pleasure took'st away his life.
Thus, saith the Lord, against thee I will raise
Up evill in thine house, even in thy dayes,
Thy fruit begotten in Adultery,
Shall onely breed thee sorrow, and so dye,
Thy Sonne with incest shall defile the bed,
Of thine own daughter, by him ravished:
Thy Sonnes shall rise up one against another,
And Brothers hands imbrew with bloud of Brother:
Thy Wives shall be defil'd in open light,
The Sun shall blush to see so foule a sight:
Thou sin'dst in secret, but this shall be done
In sight of all the people and the Sunne.
As tender Oakes shak'd with fierce blasts of wind,
By yeelding do the faster rooting find,
When stouter Oakes, which give no way at all,
Are thrown quite down, and ruine in their fall,
So it with David fares, whose heart relents,
And shakes and trembles at Gods menacements,
His sinne confessing, but his Faith holds fast,
And sings this Penitentiall Psalme at last.

Psal. 51.

Here Joab ends, when noble Abishai;
Lo thy discourse hath shortned much the way,
Beyond the River I discern the plain,
That Jair, Manasses son, by sword did gain,
Upon which bordereth the Geshurite,
Ride on, we may see Talmai's Court to night,
And bring most welcome newes to Absolon.
I know saith Joab well, what I have done:
This is a project of mine own devising,
To please the setting Sun, as well as rising;
Nothing more pleasing is to Davids mind,
No service more the Princes heart can bind,
Nor to King Talmai be more acceptable,
Who will us gratifie as he is able.
What's he? saith Abishai, a petty King,
Saith Joab, here on Gilead bordering:
Great Hadadezar was Lord Paramount,
And here did but as Tributaries count
These lesser Kings, till we at Helam slew
His Captain, and his Army overthrew.
Since that they all are servants to our King,
(Except old Talmai) and him Presens bring.
But night encroacheth now so on the day,
They leave their talk and look unto their way,
By which that night to Geshurs Court they come,
Most welcome to the King and Absalom:
For this was their Ambassage from the King,
The young-man to Hierusalem to bring.