University of Virginia Library

Svch crimes amongst the Israelites? I feare
Incredulous posterity will sweare
Mine was the fault, and when they muse hereon
They'l judge the Crime was in my Fiction,
When Vice exceeds a Probability
It gaines excuse, so that to sinne on high
Is politicke offence, for he that shall
Sinne so, is thought not to have sinn'd at all.
'Tis the corruption of the minds of men
To judge the worst of actions, but 'tis when
The fault is frequent, when the daily use
Gives it at once, the guilt, and the excuse:
But if a crime swell to the height of this,
Murder, or Incest, or if any is
Of fowler name; when man will man abuse,
We doe absolve more gladly then accuse,
Can it be possibly presum'd that they
To whom the God of Jacob shew'd the way,
Both of their feet and manners, who had seene
His frequent Miracles, nay who had beene
Part of the wonder too, so to have fell
As to commit a greater Miracle?
Sodom in Judah? now the Fable winnes
Credit, and is out-acted by true sinnes:
Report hath made Pygmalion to have lov'd
That which he made, who by his Art was mov'd
To palpable Idolatry, yet so
At least he lov'd a woman in the show:
Hee's fixt on his faire Image, so that one
Would wonder which had beene the truer stone.
Yet 'twas a Woman Image, so that I
Wonder at's lucke, more then his vanity,
A Painted Woman will cause love: I'me mov'd
More, how he did obtaine, then why he lov'd,
These doe affect what to obtaine is worst,
What in the very thinking is accurst:
In other loves the wife may barren prove,
In this the barrennesse is in the Love,
In other faults there have excuses beene,
This hath no other Motive then the Sinne.
And can this sinne be theirs? Yes know it can,
Man forsakes God, and then he doates on man.

But who did tutor them to this offence?
For, though we find it in each conscience
That we are naturally vicious,
That ther's no true good in the best of us,
That we pursue our ill, as drawne by Fate,
Yet 'tis example does specificate,
That teacheth us This sinne: 'tis mine owne Vice,
But that I am more lost in Avarice,
That I doe choose Adultery, or preferre
The lustfull man before the Murtherer,
I have from Præsident: and thus our ill
Comes from the Patterne too, as from the Will.

Egypt denyes to have an hand herein,
(Egypt the house of bondage, not of sinne.)
Their cruelty I heare, and which is odd,
I reade that their chiefe sinne, is their chiefe god.
They make their gardens heav'ns, and in each plant
They find a Deity: If that any want
Be in their fields, if thence they doe not gaine,
It is their gods they want, and not their graine,
Their superstition might issue hence.
The Calfe, on which they plac'd their confidence,
Which act this glory to them doth afford,
They make themselves the beast which they ador'd

Or did the Desart make them thus to stray,
And cause them lose their Manners with the Way?
Did those vast places, which wise Nature fram'd,
Wherein wild man should by his feare be tam'd,
His feare of wilder beasts, instruct these men,
That there are beasts which are not in the Denne;
And that when ever we neglect, or scanne
The Lords commands; the Monster is the Man?

No, these suspitions may suspected be,
As farre from Truth, as they from Honesty:
Egypt was free from this fault, and much lesse
Can we impose it on the Wildernesse.
They had no King: as well the fooles as wise
Did all what did seeme right in their owne Eyes.
And Sodomes crime seem'd right to some: to see
When every man will his owne Monarch be,
When all subjection is tane quite away,
And the same man does governe and obey;
How there is no obedience, nor rule,
How every man like to the Horse and Mule,
Which want the understanding of their bit,
And neither have their owne nor Riders wit,
Make a swift pace to Ruine. Giue me then
Leave to admire, and pitty those poore men,
Who thinke that Man should his owne Ruler be,
And exercise Home-principality:
Who in one speedy minute strangely doe
What Alexander but aspir'd unto,
Conquer all Kingdomes, which they affirme to be,
No better then a well-nam'd Tyranny.
Let me inquire of these, if they have read
Any such crimes where people had an head?
Let me inquire of men, as yet not wild,
Whether they thinke thēselves Lords of their child?
Whether their servants Masters? whether they
Suppose that God did not make some t'obey?
In Innocence there was Dominion,
And the first man was the first Lord: that one
King of the Creatures, whom for this none blames,
He prov'd his Soveraignty by their Names.
That he was his wives Soveraigne, in the Fall
He fell not from his Monarchy, when all
His Righteousnesse was vanish't, that remain'd,
And so a knowledge of this truth he gain'd,
(A truth he could not know had he still stood)
We can be longer Powerfull then Good.
Nay let us looke on Hell, and we shall see
That there's a Prince of that obscurity.
It is a torment such as Hell hath none,
To want that order in confusion:
That is the best; we may conclude from hence,
That is in Hell, and was in Innocence.

But I doe wonder at the fault so long
That I deferre the punishment: my song
Must to the Levite turne, or rather he
No more a Song, but a sad Elegy.

He having carv'd his Love, as you have heard,
And done that act, which Hell and Furies fear'd;
Sends a choice piece to every Tribe, to plead
Their injuries, and tell why she is dead:
Benjamin shall have one of them, lest he
Might dare commit a crime, he durst not see,

A severall messenger to each Tribe is sent:
But he that unto Princely Judah went,
Carying the head of the dismembred coarse,
With such a voice which sorrow had mad hoarse,
(Least he should rave too highly) thus beginnes!
Is there an Heav'n? and can there be such sinnes.
Stands the Earth still? me thinkes I hardly stand,
Feeling the Seas inconstancy on Land.
After this Act, why flowes the water more?
Why does't not staine, which alwaies clear'd before?
It is not Ayre we draw now, 'tis a breath
Sent to infect us from the Land of Death:
The Fire, whose office 'tis to warme and shine,
Growes blacke and downewards, as it did repine
To see the fact, and sheds a kinde of teares,
Quenching his heat, because he cannot theirs.
Can you behold these eyes without a teare?
Can you with patience longer thinke they were,
And are not the worlds wonder? yet I erre,
It is Revenge, and not a Teare fits her:
Let women weepe for women, then you shall
Shew you have sorrow'd heartily, if all
Doe sorrow which have injur'd her, and be
Examples, as of Crimes so Misery.
Gibeah 'twas (O'twas not Gibeah)
Credit me not, beleeve not what I say,
I scarce dare trust my selfe, and yet agen,
Gibeah 'twas that did this Fact: and then
He tells them all, what I before have wept;

Now Judah stormes, and as a River kept
From its owne course by Weares and Milles, if once
It force a passage, hurryes or'e the stones,
Sweepes all along with it, and so alone
Without stormes makes an Inundation:
Such was the peoples fury, they're so hot
That they will punish what we credit not,
And be as speedy as severe: but some
Who loath'd the bloudy accents of the Drumme,
Who thought no mischiefes of that foulnesse are,
But that they gaine excuse, compar'd with warre,
And warre with brethren; these, I say, of age
The chiefe amongst them, doe oppose their rage,
Exhort them to a temper: Stay, sayes one,
And be advis'd before you be undone.
Whence is this fury? why d'yee make such hast
To doe that act which you'l repent as fast?
Are any glad to fight? or can ought be
Mother of warre, beside Necessity?
Be not mistaken; brethren, take good heed,
It is not Physicke frequently to bleed.
He that for petty griefes incision makes
Cannot be cur'd so often as he akes.
Are then your sisters, daughters, wifes too chast?
Or are you sorry that as yet no wast
Deformes your richer grounds? or does it stirre
An anger in you, that the souldier
Mowes not your Fields? Poore men, do you lament
That still you are as safe as innocent?
We yet have Cities proudly situate,
We yet have people: be it not in fate
That your esteeme of both should be so cheape
To wish those carcasses and these an Heape.
Me thinkes our Iordan hath an happier pace,
And flowes with greater majesty and grace
In his owne naturall wave, then if the sword
Should higher colour to his streames afford;
Should paint and so deforme it: to mine eye
A River's better then a Prodigy.

But I desire, deere Countrymen, to know,
Whose is the blood that we must lavish so?
Perhaps the Philistins ambition
Would to our Shiloh bring their Ascalon,
And these you would encounter: or't may be
Egypt still envying that you are free
Intends a second bondage: or perchance
Your daily conquer'd Enemies advance
Their often flying ensignes, those at hand
Possessors and destroyers of the Land;
Whom God reserving for our future Pride,
Left to our eyes as thornes, prickes to our side.
No none of these, but all your swords intend,
I grieve to speak't, the ruine of a friend:
And all the sonnes of Israel doe presse
That Israel may have a sonne the lesse.
Joseph I've read suffer'd his brothers hate,
(Joseph of neere acquaintance unto fate
The mouth of Destiny,) they would kill him first
But after sell him, to try which was worst:
And yet no reason for this spleene appeares,
But that his glory was beyond his years.
To hate the yonger still is too much sinne,
And after Joseph to spoile Benjamin.

Hath twelve no mystery? doe ye ascribe
Meerely to Chance, that there is no odd Tribe?
Trust me my brethren, they doe injure God,
Who say that he delights in what is odd:
I thinke 'tis parity best pleaseth heav'n;
And what is most just, loves what is most ev'n.

Doe I excuse them then to please the time,
And onely make an error of a Crime?
Am I sinnes Advocate? farre he't from me
To thinke so ill of Warre as Sodomy:
For Sodomy I tearme it, Iustice calls
That, fact; which never into action falls,
If it hath past the license of the will:
And their intent reacht to that height of ill;
But whose intent? O pardon me, there be
Benjamites spotlesse of that Infamy.
Shall these be ioyn'd in punishment? a sinne
You'd warre against, O doe not then beginne
To act a greater, as if you would see
Whether Injustice æquall'd Luxury?
This madnesse was from Gibeah, 'tis true,
Yet some doe more distast the crime, then you
Even in that City: heare then my advice,
And God shall prosper what you enterprize.
Exhort them to doe justice, if that then
They still be partiall to these guilty men,
Their guilt is greatest, let them perish all
And equall their offences with their fall.

Thicke acclamations breake off his discourse,
Theyle heare no more because they like't: Remorse
Ceizeth each conscience, they already hate
The civill warre, which they so wisht of late.

Embassadors by generall voice are sent:
But Benjamin conceits that to repent
Were the worse sinne, and that who ere will doe
A wicked act, he ought defend it too.

But are not we true Benjamites in this,
And aggravate what ere we doe amisse
By a new act? as if the second deed
Excus'd the former, if it did exceed.
Did we not thus, an end were come to warre;
Did we not thus, no more should private jarre
Molest our peace; Kings might put up their swords,
And every quarrell might conclude in words:
One conference would root out all debate
And they might then most love, who now most hate,
The most sworne foes: for shew me, where is he
Would seeke Revenge without an injury?
A wrong receiv'd, or thought one? then no need
But to deny, or to excuse the deed,
Why is Defence? O what doe they intend
Who justifie those acts, which they should mend!
O Pride! O folly! O extreme disease!
O Fact, which he condemnes who practises!
Who in his soule confesseth he offends.
And yet doubles his guilt when he not ends.

Great crimes find greater patrons: impudence
Followes each fault, to make us thinke that sense
Hath fled us with our Vertue, and that men
By such an hardnesse were turn'd stones agen.
So wifes of Entertainment (who doe know
More then one Husband) in the publicke: shew
As vertuous as the best whilst undescry'd,
Whilst they have this good left, that they will hide
And veile o're their offences: but if once
Either their husbands just suspicions,
Or their security betray their fact,
No more doe blush to answere, then to act,
As if 'twere meritorious, and so, did
Appeare no sinne no longer then 'twas hid.

Why should the bad be bold? why should there be
Audaciousnesse joyn'd to impiety?
Whence is this daring? Sinne was child to Night,
How dares he then approach and blast the light?
How dares he stand th'examining, and try
If men can find out his deformity?
I have the reason, we are flatterers all,
And to our selves the most; if any fall
Into grosse errors, still he thinkes hee's free,
And Pride supplies the place of honesty.
He thinkes tis good to have a vertuous name,
And cares not for the goodnesse, but the fame.

Which makes the Benjamites reply: we admire
(To say no more) at your so strange desire.
And at the craft on't most, that you pretend
Love and advice, when you subjection send:
Are we so stupid, and so senslesse growne
As to be thought not fit to rule our owne?
Benjamin was the youngest we confesse
Of Jacobs sonnes, and yet a sonne, no lesse
Then Levi, or proud Judah: he that gave
Life to each Tribe, intended none a slave,
Nor shall you make us. But youle say that you
Out of a generall love to goodnesse sue
For justice 'gainst her Enemies, Tis poore
If what we would we cannot cover o're
With specious pretences: tis an ill
Physitians part so to betray his pill,
That children may perceive its want of dresse,
And chuse disease before seene bitternesse;
But let me tell you, who so ere do's deale,
In the affaires of a strange common-weale,
Is tyrannous or mad: he would be knowne
Either anothers Lord, or's not his owne.

Yet what is't your grave Masters doe advise
Our sleepy Councell of? whose duller Eyes
See onely open vices: we have heard
The Levite and his Concubine, we feard
You'd have us punish him: then you relate
That comming unto Gibeah some thing late,
And willing to depart the earlier thence,
He found his Chast one dead: O dire offence!
She had the punishment she deserv'd, and just
It was, that who had liv'd should dye by Lust.

And yet for feare Levits in time to come
Might want such easie favourites, and some
Would leaue their courteous trade, if there be found
No cure, no remedy for such a wound:
We are content to be severe: but then
We doe expect, you name those guilty men.
Our's the more hard and thanklesse taske I trow,
For we will punish those whom you but show.

These mockes doe whet the Isra'elites so farre,
Nothing remaines now but a civill warre:
When all the Tribes have unto Mispah ran,
With such consent you'd thinke they were one man.

If warre had ever reason, or if men
Had ere authority to kill others, then
Certainely these, in so divine a cause,
Twas not the peoples quarrell, but the Lawes.
Here no ambition, no untam'd desire
Of Principality, of growing higher,
Put on these Armes, nor was it fault enough
That Benjamin was rich, to raise these rough
Spirits of Mars, nor is't a true surmise
That private wrongs did cause these Enemies:
These fight the battel of the Lord, herein
Iustice on the one side fights, on th'other Sinne:
So that in height of blood, heat of the warres,
They rather Iudges are, then Souldiers.
The Israelites if they now spare, are shent,
The more they kill, the more they're innocent.
Our Age makes us againe these actions see,
An Age of warre, though not of victory.
For 'tis not victory to winne the Field,
Vnlesse we make our Enemies to yeeld
More to our Iustice, then our Force, and so
As well instruct as overcome our Foe
Call you that Conquest, or a Theft of State,
When in a Stranger region of late,
The Eagle built his nest, having expell'd
(Vpon a meere pretence that he rebell'd)
The former Ayry, for no other cause,
But that his bill was strong, and sharpe his clawes.
To see the malice, and the power of hate,
That made ev'n the Elector Reprobate.
When Cæsar did not sticke, nor blush to doe
What they detested, who advis'd him too,
When that all lawes their ancient force might loose,
He made a Choyce of him that was to Choose.

Now all occasions can perswade to fight,
When Power is misinterpreted for Right.
There is a Lust of killing men so great,
Rivers of blood can scarce asswage the heat
Our lives are cheaper then the lives of beasts,
Then those whose very being is for feasts;
Who have no use but for the throat: hard plight!
Anger not kills them, but our appetite
If we have eaten once, we spare: and then
If we are full are kind: but to kill men
We have a lasting appetite, shedding blood,
Our famine is increas'd ev'n by our food:
Such Erisichthons are we; they that have
Vnlimited desires, Death and the Grave
But shadow this affection, and to it
Compar'd, the Horse-leach wants an Appetite:
It may be weighing mans high faculties
(Which make him claime a kinred with the skies)
Wee seeme to doubt of his mortality
And onely strive to know if he can die.

Nor doe we care on what pretence (lest ought
Should make our crime the lesse) no reason's sought
To mitigate our fault, and we are thus
So farre from good, we scarce are cautelous.

But 'tis a sore will fester, if you touch,
Away my Muse, sometimes a truth's too much
For Honour, or for safety: he alone
Prospers who flatters. But if any one
Shall aske a colour, a pretence for this
How such a multitude, such a swarme is
Assembled of the Israelites (for then
There met at once foure hundred thousand men
Against their brother Benjamin,) whilst yet
They had not dispossest the Canaanite,
(There was a mixture not a Conquest made)
How durst they then so foolishly invade
Their brethrens Countrey, when they left their owne
Subject to imminent destruction?

Or when was this invasion made? To me
The Number hath a more Facility
For credit, then the Time; doe we not finde,
That Israel wanting Iudges was assignde
To bondage, as to Anarchy? they groane
Vnder a forraigne yoake, wanting their owne.
Carries it any likelyhood; or can
It sincke into the fancy of a man,
That when they were opprest, they should oppresse?
As full of folly as of savagenesse:
This were to perfect Eglons victory,
And act what Jabin but desir'd should be.
And yet it might be, Joshua being dead,
Then was the time, the people lack'd an head:
Who taking no care for posterity,
Twas the worst act of Joshua to dye.
Moses deputed him, and if that he
Had left another Governor, it might be
Our Levite had beene chast, and Benjamin
Beene noted for his vertue; not his sinne.
Then were those multitudes no miracle,
And Canaan so oft beat by Israel,
In likelihood would rest quiet, and expect
If these would doe what they could not effect.
Besides, their dwellings in the Valleys be
So that their seat teaches humilitie:
And then to climbe the mountaines was such paine
As that the labour did exceed the gaine.

And thus you see, that they may fight, but ere
Their enemies Countries by them wasted were,
They to the Oracle repaire, to know
If victory shall grace them, or their Foe.

Yet pardon me, I erre, they are so strong
As that they would imagine it a wrong
Done to their valor, if we should suppose,
That they intreated conquest of their foes;
No, being sure of victory, they aske
Which of the Tribes shall undertake the taske
Of the first onset, and the Tribes refus'd,
Envy at Judahs choyce, as if abus'd,
And injur'd they esteem'd themselves, that they
Should lose the dangerous honour of the day.

Such was their pride, such thoughts their Numbers bred;
Numbers, whose feare might strike the Enemy, dead:
Whose hands deserv'd a fiercer Enemy,
And matter of an higher victory.
With these they think, they might to Memphis passe,
And make the Egyptians know, what bondage was.
VVith these they thought with ease to force a VVay
(Though nature did oppose) to India.
And in a sawcy victory out-runne,
The primitive uprising of the Sunne.

How large are our desires? and yet how few
Events are answerable? So the dew
VVhich early on the top of mountaines stood
(Meaning at least to imitate a flood)
VVhen once the Sunne appeares, appeares no more,
And leaves that parch'd, which was too moist before.

That we are never wholy good! that still
Mixt with our Vertue, is some spice of ill!
The Israelites are Iust, but they are Proud,
As if a lesser fault might be allowd
For punishing the greater; yet I'de know
VVhilst yet they might suffer an overthrow,
VVhy they rejoyce as if th'ad wonne! or why
They have a Pride ere they have Certainty?
Their numbers are incredible, 'tis true,
Yet multitudes have beene orecome by few:
Their army is compleat, 'tis right, but then
VVe know it is an army but of men.
Of future carkasses, so quickly some
They have no time to thinke of death to come:
To whom no starre a certainty does give,
That they at least to the next Field should live.
Foure hundred thousand carkasses; enough
To give the beasts a surfet, and allow
Fertility which Nature had deny'd
Vnto those Lands: So that their height of pride,
Of hope, of glory, and of all their toyle
Is to inrich the Land which they would spoile.

So thought the Benjamites, who though they saw
That Pow'r too was against them with the Law,
Yet resolutely they intend to die,
And such despaire gives them the victory.
They are not Cowards, yet, though they are bad,
They slay more numbers then wee'l thinke they had.

Whence comes this Courage to the Desperate?
The bad me thinkes should be effeminate,
And as the Bees (the subject or the King)
Having abus'd it once, doe loose their sting:
And to inforce a Stoick unto laughter,
Being once too fierce, they are alwaies sluggish after
Converted unto Droanes, so it seemes fit
(And not so much heavens Iustice, as its wit)
That who hath lost his Vertue once, should straight
Lose courage too, opprest with his owne weight.

The Israelites though amaz'd at this defeat,
Yet gather head, and to their Campe retreate;
There might you see Sorrow and Anger joyn'd,
Nor doe they grieve so much as they repin'd.
Here fathers weepe their onely sonnes, and there
Brothers for as deare losses dropp a teare,
Accompany'd with threatnings, they are mad
Till they bestow the sorrow which they had.

Once more to Shiloh they repaire, to heare
If God at last will aide them, and for feare
That it was pride did frustrate their first sute,
They're now as humble, as then resolute:
In stead of fighting they now weepe a day,
Sighes they doe thinke and teares can make a way
Where swords are uselesse, they'l gaine victory
No longer by their hand, but by their Eye,

Great and just God, sayes one, we doe confesse
That all this heavy anger is farre lesse
Then our deservings: should'st thou fully weigh
Our sinnes enormity, 'tis not a day
Losse to the Foe, can expiate: did we feele
What ere we saw in Ægypt, did the steele
Peirce deeper in our bowells, should the skes
Shed those hot showers in which Gomorrah fryes,
We could not taxe the Iustice of our King,
But after all, owe still a suffering.
Yet thou hast ancient mercies, we've beene told
Of all thy courtesies, which were of old
Shew'd to our Fathers; O vouchsafe them still,
And make us heires of those: we have done ill,
Prodigiously ill, there's no offence
Which we are guiltlesse of, each conscience
Accuseth, and amazeth us: yet now
Our flinty hearts to a repentance bow:
Yet now at last vouchsafe thy favour to us,
And as thy rod hath scourg'd, let mercy wooe us;
We dare not looke for victory: O no,
Give us at leastwise a more vertuous Foe.
Thy wrath is just, great God, and 'tis our sute
Onely just men thy wrath may execute.
We beg not for our lives, they are thy loane
Which when thou wilt receive, yet as thine owne.
Let not their swords bereave us of our breath,
And we shall find a benefit in death.

Yet what a glory can it be to thee
That we are dead? and that the Heathen see
Thy anger on thy Children? that thy wrath
Instead of being left, is told in Gath,
And publisht in fierce Ascalon; spare us then
If not for us, yet for thy selfe; and when
Thou think'st of plaguing us, thy selfe exempt,
Since that our Ruine will breed thy contempt:
Let then thy mercy above justice shine;
If we are bad, consider we are thine.

Thus grumbled they a pray'r: and he that sees
Councells unhatchd, and what he will, decrees,
(Yet ever justly) does perceive that they
VVhat ere they faine, doe murmur, and not pray.

VVhich he decrees to punish: they would know
VVhether that once more they shall fight or no?
Once more he grants that they shall fight: and thus
They're not so craving, as he Courteous.
If they but aske him, he will not deny,
Fight's their desire, and then his answere's, I.
Had they but ask'd the victorie, as well,
He would have heard his troubled Israel:
He that deliver'd them from forraine armes,
And taught their weake hands to repaire their harms
VVith admirable victory, He I say
VVould have bestow'd the honor of the day
On them, had they desir'd it; they have knowne
How he hath warr'd for thē from heaven, & showne
Such miracles in their defence, they fright
Those whom they save, as when the wondring night
Thought herselfe banisht from the world (the Sunne
Standing unmov'd, forgetting how to runne,)
If they now lose the day, the fault is theirs,
God does no mercy want, they want right prayers.

But they suppose it too too fond to stand
Begging of that which is in their owne hand.
This they conceive were to mocke God, to crave
That to be giv'n which they already have,
A pow'r to use their armes: No, if once more
They may have field-roome, may but fight it o're,
Though Heav'n doe not fight for them, they suppose
They cannot lose, if Heav'n doe not oppose.
They thinke no chance can possibly bestow
The foile on them, the Lawrell on the foe.
What though they lost the praise of the first day,
And fought as though they came to runne-away:
Twas not for want of courage sure, but either
The foe had got advantage of the weather
Or else the wind had rais'd the dust so high
That they suppos'd fresh enemies to be nigh,
And fear'd to be environ'd round: what ere
Occasion'd their first overthrow, no feare,
No chance, shall cause another; and the slaves
That now triumph, shall find their trenches, graves.

Is this their Crime alone, or doe not all
Partake as of their fault, so of their fall?
Israel is not onely mad, there be
Some vices which we give posterity,
And this is one of them: O how vaine is man!
O how his Reason too is but a spanne,
And not his stature or his Age! we have long
Injur'd the beasts, and done them too much wrong,
By calling them Irrationall; could they speake,
Thus in rough language, they would fiercely breake
Their mind unto us: O you onely wise
To whom kind Nature hath imparted Eyes,
Leaving all other blind; pardon if we
Doe tell you where you have forgot to see,
Where we are clearer sighted: can you show
Where ever beasts did to that madnesse grow,
As to pronounce of that, which is to come,
Of that which onely seemes in Chances doome?
Yet thus you doe; and doing thus have showne;
Reason's your title, our Possession.
The Israelites had to their cost of late
Found confidence to be unfortunate;
(Their confidence in Numbers) and yet still
(Though now contain'd in smaller roome) they will
Forespeake their victory: why, because they see
That they are many yet; poore vanity!
When they were more, they were o'recome, yet dare
Conceive a Conquest when they fewer are;
Because still some are to be kill'd: as though
Successe to Multitudes did homage owe,
And multitudes impair'd: as if the way
To winne another were to lose one day.

But had we seene the City now! what joy
Raign'd in those streets, sufficient to destroy
Those whom it comforted (for pleasue too
Can find a way to death, and strangely doe
The worke of heavinesse and griefe) I say
Had we but seene the glory of that day:
The whooping, dancing, and the generall noyse
To which the sea and thunder are but toyes;
We should have thought it (so the sounds agree,)
No noise of Triumph, but Captivity.

At last they doe repose themselves, and one
Of highest judgement and discretion,
Instructs them thus: My dearest Countrymen,
Who ere intends his private ends, does pen
A speech unto the Eare, his study is
Which words soūd wel, & which are thought amisse,
He tryes all wayes, he layes all colours on
To cheat the Iudgement, sooth the Passion,
So that he hopes at last that it must hit
Either the subject, or the clothing it:
But I whose end is Publike good, intend
Nothing but that which caryes to that end:
Pardon me then if I am harsh, and round,
If that I am not Plausible, but found.
We wonne a victory last day, so great
We hardly dare beleeve we were not beate:
Our conquest easier was then our beleife;
And with great reason too: fortell, what chiefe,
What petty captaine is so vaine, so mad
As to ascribe to his conduct the glad
Event of last dayes hazard? to my sense
The Conqueror was onely Providence,
And we but instruments: then I'de advise
That as you have beene happy, you'd be wise:
That man does still in greatest glory stand,
Whose braine is better thought of then his hand;
And so I wish that yours should be: we know
That what is gain'd by Fortune is lost so,
She hath no constant Favorite; then now
Whilst yet our victory does meanes allow
To purchase peace at our owne rate, and thrive
By Covenant more then Battle: let us drive
All thought of warre farre from us, tis in vaine
To get that hardly, which we may obtaine
By easier meanes, and he does more then rave
Who hazards that which he may certaine have.
More was he speaking, when a thousand tongues
Made his be silent, one would thinke their lunges
To be unequall to that noyse, so fierce
Their clamor is, such sounds the heavens doe peirce.

So have I oft heard in our Theater
(When that a daintier passage wan the Eare)
A thousand tongues, a thousand hands rebound,
(As if the Plaudite were in the sound,
And most noise were most pleasing:) they expresse
Their liking so, as these their frowardnesse.

Who rave from noise to action, one stoopes downe,
To reach a stone, another fiercer clowne
Shakes a steel'd Iavelin at him, all the hands,
Against which Israel but weakely stands,
Ayme now at one; who dreadlesse, unimpair'd
In courage, neither wisht life, nor despair'd.
At last a serious Counceller stood up;
Much had he tasted of the liberall Cup,
And thankefully exprest it in his face,
To which a larger wound would be a grace
By hiding his rich pimples: This brave man
Raises himselfe, and with what speed he can
Stutters thus to them; Cease my noble boyes,
Quiet your threatnings now, and stint your noyse.
Tis a just anger you have showne, but yet
The time in which you shew it is unfit.
Now should we dance, my bloods, now should we sing,
And make the wondring firmament to ring
With joyfull acclamations; now brave spirits
To shew the most joy, is to shew most merits.
Sadnesse is onely Capitall: in fine,
Now should we shed no blood but of the vine.
For you Sir whom we doubly guilty see,
Of Treason first, and then Philosophy,
If these doe please, thus we pronounce: to shew
How little we doe feare you, or the Foe,
Wee'l send you first unto their campe, and then
Wee'l fetch you by our conquest home agen.
This is a mercy if well understood,
You shall injoy the fortune you thinke good.

Here his breath failes: when all the people cry
He hath spoke nobly, none this day shall dye.
And yet the Traitor shall not scape at last,
Whose execution is deferr'd, not past.

Twas neither peace, nor warre now, either side
Having sufficiently their forces try'd,
Take breath a while: O happy men, if still
This mind continue in them! If they kill
Their appetite of killing! if this rest
Can at the last informe them what is best!
To bury their slaine friends, both sides agree
Vnto a two dayes truce: Stupiditie
Not to be borne with! had they knowne the use
At first of that which they now call a truce,
This truce had beene unnecessary, then
They might have spar'd, whilst now they bury men.
And that they now may bury, they intreat
Respite a while from warre: thus all their heate
Is buried for the time: good heav'n to see
Th'Omnipotency of Necessity,
Whom all the nearest ties of Neighbourhood,
Religion, Language, nay of the same Blood
Could not containe from fight, but that they would
(To see if it were theirs) shed their owne blood,
These are intreated to a forme of peace,
Their fury for a day or two can cease,
Commanded by Necessity: they feare
Lest th'Ayre by so much carcasse poysoned were:
Lest to revenge the blood which they had shed,
They now might feele the valour of the dead,
Of strong corruptiō: these thoughts hold their mind
These thoughts a while inforce them to be kind
On both sides (for they doe not jarre in all)
Nature prevailes not, but a Funerall,

Nor doth this long prevaile, for when they had
Interr'd some carcasses, they yet are mad
Till they have made some more, till they have done
A second fault, as not content with one,
They see their Error, and commit it, thus
Who are not eminently vertuous,
Are easily entrapp'd in vices snares,
And want the poore excuse, that unawares
They were ingag'd; we greedily runne on
Offending with Deliberation.
And can you call this but Infirmity?
Nick-name a Vice? O call it Prodigy.
Call it—O what? What name can well expresse
The miracle of humane guiltinesse?
Could he pretend an ignorance at least
And be in Nature as in Fact a beast,
He were not worse then they, then he might be
Both from the Vse and fault of Reason free.

But what new horror ceizeth me? what fire
Raignes in my thoughts, & prompts me to rise higher
Hence you low soules, who groveling on the Earth
Basely deject your selves below your birth,
Sold to your senses: I intend to tell
What none can know but in whose breasts doe dwell
Cœlestiall fires, and unto whom 'tis given
To have a neerer intercourse with Heav'n.
Yet pardon you pure soules, whom no one dares
Eas'd of our flesh, to trouble with our cares:
Pardon I once more aske, if my weake pen
Fitting it selfe to ordinary men,
Attaine not to your height (to us unknowne)
And give you those words which you shame to owne.

The Lawgiver, who saw as in a glasse
All in the Word, what ever 'twas did passe
In these neer enmities, as farre as Man
Perfectly happy knowes a griefe, began
To feele Compassion: Have I then said he
Deliver'd Israel for this misery?
And did I free them from the Ægyptian
Onely to find them graves in Canaan?
I did foretell their Land shall overflow,
But never thought to be expounded so;
Never with bloud: I meant that they should have
More blessings then the covetous can crave,
The flowing Vdder, and the untir'd Bee,
An happy Deluge of Fertility.
O how would now proud Pharaoh rejoyce!
How he would have a joy beyond a voyce,
Beyond his tyranny, could he but know
What Israel does indure without a Foe!
Was it for this I did so oft repeat
Wonders before him, wonders of so great
Exuberance of powre, so highly done,
That they contemne all admiration?
How wert thou Nilus bloody'd into Red,
Thy waters as unknowne as is thy Head?
When all thy finny progeny did find
That to destroy now, which did breed their kind,
When by a nimble death they understand,
The River as discourteous as the Land?
Can I forget that when I did bestow
A liberty as heretofore to flow
Vnto thy now pale waters, there did passe
An issue stranger then his Colour was
From the too fertil river? Frogges are found
With such a multitude to hide the ground
That there's no grasse appeares, no corne is seene.
The spring does blush because he lookes not greene.
Their numbers and their noise equally harsh
Make Egypt not a Region but a Marsh.
What a small portion of my acts where these?
How scarcely to be counted passages
In my large story? Dust is chang'd to Lice
And now beginnes to creepe, which the most nice
And curious eye before could never find
To move at all, unlesse't were by the winde:
Which could not scatter those thicke clouds of Flyes
That would not let them, no, not see the skyes.
When I but threaten, all the cattle dye,
And Egypts Gods find a Mortality.
But lest the men should thinke that they were free
From the fault too, if the Calamity,
I taught their bodies with blacke goare to runne,
And imitate their soules corruption.
What was a Face, is now a pimple growne,
And in each part is plentifully sowne
A store of blaines, so ugly, that to me
It was a kind of Iudgement but to see.
And if this were but little, was't not I
That call'd those candy'd pellets from the sky,
Which in a moment overwhelming all
Did badly change their colour in their fall:
And by the murthering every one they found
Within their reach came red unto the ground?
When to repaire the numbers they had slaine
(Beasts of all sorts) the land is fill'd againe,
But tis with Locusts, such a swarme they see
Made for the shame of all their Husbandry,
That they could wish, so they were rid of these,
The former Murrein, ere this new increase.
But who can tell the following Prodigy?
Last day the Earth was hid, but now the sky
Chaos returnes, the Sunne hath lost his rayes
And Nights obscurity is turn'd to Dayes.
Who could a greater miracle afford?
God made the Light, I Darknesse by a Word,
Which had it lasted, had it ne'r beene spent,
They would have call'd it a kind punishment,
They had not seene then their first borne to dy,
To challenge death by their Nativity:
All this I did, but why? was it to see
My people suffer fuller misery?
To gaine the Country which they could not hold,
From which their owne armes ignorantly bold
Expell their owne selves: O let no man tell
That Israel did banish Israel.
My prayers forbid, nor let it ere be said
That Moses was unkind since he was dead,
That in the grave I left my goodnesse too;
And could not pity when not feele a woe.

Having said this, with all the speed he may
He seekes out holy Abraham, who that day,
By his deere Isaac seconded did sing
The ancient mercies of their heavenly King.
One tells how having now worne out a life,
And so being fitter for his Grave then Wife,
Nay then when she had liv'd unto those yeares,
To be accounted with the Grandmothers,
When Sara now was so unweildy growne,
Her legges could scarcely beare her selfe alone,
She beares another burthen, and does swell
Not with a child, but with a Miracle.
This said, he stops; and then againe goes on
No more with story, but Devotion.
O praise the Lord my soule, let me not find
My body was more fruitfull then my mind.
O let that teeme with thankefulnes, and be
Made sweetly pregnant by my memory.

Father, sayes Isaac, I have often heard
That we doe tell with Ioy what we have Feard,
And what in suffering terrifies our sense,
Does in relating please: what violence
Of blisse possesseth me when I compare
My dangers past with joyes that present are!
Methinkes I yet carry that fatall wood
(A burden which I hardly understood
Should carry me) me thinkes I still enquire
Where is the sacrifice, and where the fire?
How little did I thinke, or feare till then
That God commanded sacrifice of men!
How little could I guesse in any part
That God in such sort did desire the Heart?
Yet pardon Father, if you now must know,
Your silence seem'd more cruell then your blow:
Could I oppose my mind against your will,
Or wish him spar'd, whom you decreed to kill?
Wherefore was as all this circumstance? what need
But first to tell, and then to act the deed?
I never knew what disobedience meant.
And your distrust was my worst punishment,
I must confesse I was amaz'd, my blood
Congeal'd within me, and my faint haires stood
Yet not for feare of death (Death was my profit)
But for the manner and the Author of it.
Was this the heav'nly promise? and must I
So strangely borne, somewhat more strangely die?
What should I say now? or what should I doe?
That frustrate by my death Gods promise too.
Should I invoke Heav'ns ayde? alas, from thence
Came the injunction for this violence:
Should I implore my fathers helpe? why, he
Would sooner hearken unto heav'n then me.
And so he did: for when the trembling sword
As if he knew the temper of his Lord
Theatned a death, most fortunately then
He that did arme you did disarme agen;
Shewing your will was all he did require,
Commanding you to that you most desire,
To be againe a Father: O the power
And mercy of our God! who in an houre,
Who in a minute, can make all things well,
Can bring and then deliver out of Hell.

These were their Accents, when that Moses sayes,
It is an holy businesse to praise,
To magnifie our Lord, so to goe on
In the intent of our Creation.
To this all times, all reasons doe obey,
And we may praise as often as we pray.
But now let's change these tones, let us be mute
In all discourses now, but in a suite;
Let us at once conjoyne our prayers, and see
If our one God will hearken unto three.
Your issue, and my charge, whom I have led
Thorow those paths that never man did tread.
(As if they fear'd a scarcity of foes)
Doe their owne selves against themselves oppose,
And their destruction (unlesse we repaire
Sooner to ayde them) will prevent our pray'r.

It was a place above the Ayre, the Sky,
Whither Man cannot reach, not with his Eye,
Nay if th'exactnesse of the height be sought,
Whither Man cannot reach, not with his thought.
Beyond the place where haile, and raine doe growe,
Above the chill-white treasures of the snow;
To which compar'd the starry heav'n is fell
Vnto a neerer neighbourhood with Hell.
And when I shall of Gods abode intreat
It does become his prospect, not his seat.
To which compar'd, the Chrystall heav'n does meet
With Earth, to be a stoole unto his feet,
This was the Place (yet pardon 'twas not so,
Places are things which onely bodies know,
Our bounds of Ayre, from which the heav'ns are free
As from Corruption and Mortality)
But here it was His sacred throne did stand,
Who with a word created Sea and Land:
Who with a word was Maker of his Throne,
Who till he made it never wanted one.
Bring me the richest goldsmiths treasuries
(Those baites that doe allure our hearts and eyes)
The dusky Sapphire, the Pearle richly white,
The sparkling Diamond, yellow Chrysolite,
Or if there be a gemme Nature hath fram'd,
Of so high price that Art hath never nam'd,
Ransacke the Inga's tombes, where there doth lie
With their corrupted dust their treasury:
(Who to that pretty bounty doe attaine
That they bestow their gold on earth againe.)
Search me their graves, or if you fearfull be
Of treasure guarded by Mortality,
Rob all the mines fenc't with so many barres,
(Where Nature in the Earth hath fancy'd starres,
Whose luster lest our weaknesse cannot beare
Her kinder wisedome made her store up there)
Bring these unto the view, to an exact
Figure, which Phidias durst call his act:
Yet to this throne compar'd, it will appeare
So farre from shining, it will scarce looke cleare.
Here does the Ancient of dayes disclose
The glory of his Majesty to those
To whom he daignes his presence, who enjoy
At full, what would a weaker eye destroy:
Whose blisse shall never have a period,
Who therefore live because they see their God,
How could I ever linger, ever dwell
In this so blest Relation! O how well
Should I esteeme my selfe entranc'd; if I
By staying here should lose my History!
Here thousand thousands wait upon his call
Of humane servants, and Angelicall,
And such a multitude invest his throne
(Millions of Spirits waiting upon One,)
That it may be we should not say amisse,
Their Number stranger then their Nature is:
Here sound the Hallelujahs, here the Quire
Of Heav'n is high, and full as their desire:
No voice is here untun'd, they doe not find
A jarre, more in the sound, then in the mind.
Their power of singing growes on with their song;
And they can longer sing, because thus long;
Thus here themselves they fully strengthned see,
To a melodious eternitie.

Here Abraham presents himselfe; and sayes
O thou above the injury of Dayes;
Who making Times art subject unto none,
Who giv'st all knowledge, and art never knowne;
Who in my dayes of flesh didst gladly lend
An eare unto my suite, and wouldst not bend
Thy plagues against thine enemies, untill
I knew th'intent, and thou hadst askt my will,
The will of me poore mortall, nay farre worse
Of me a sinner then, the ancient curse
Stucke deeply in me, that I might have feard
My faults, and not my pray'r should have been heard:
Could I speake then, and am I silent now?
Did Sodom move, and cannot Israel bow?
O pardon me if I bewaile their state,
If I their Father prove their Advocate,
Didst not thou promise when I had giv'n ore
All hope of Father, when I wisht no more
Then a contented Grave, that then from me,
Should come so numerous a progeny:
That all the cleerer army of the sky
And the thicke sands which still unnumbred lye
Should come within account before my seed,
Which not my Sara, but thy truth should breed?
How oft I thought that promise did include
Their lasting too as well as multitude;
That their continuance should be as sure,
As long as either sands or starres indure.
If they have sinn'd, thou know'st they may repent
And be the better by a punishment,
Never by Ruine: O then use thy rod
Thinke that they are thy People, thou their God,
And if they are so, O then let not be
Any more strife, but who shall most serve thee,
If they are so, let Abraham once more
Receive those children which thou gav'st before.

Now they have left their heav'nly ecchoing,
Now all the Quire does wonder and not sing,
When from th'eternall Majesty are heard
Speeches, which all but the dread Speaker fear'd.

Am I as Man that I should change? or like
The sonne of man to threaten and not strike?
If I pronounce my wrath against a Land
Shall that continue, and my word not stand?
If I doe whet a sword, shall it be blunt,
And have no direr sharpnesse then t'was wont?
Benjamins crime h'as such an horror in't,
(Who have confirm'd their faces like a flint
Against all dye of modesty) that till
Their blood (which now their too hot veines doe fill)
Flow in their fields, till that their numbers be
Of as small note as is their Chastity,
It shall not be remitted: yet to show
That I can pay that which I doe not owe,
A remnant shall escape: but for the rest,
(Those other Tribes which boast they are the best.)
And yet to verifie their goodnesse lesse;
Speake, as if they were injur'd by successe,
So making the fault mine: who therefore have
Beene lib'rall benefactors to the grave
By their thicke deaths: untill that I doe see
A confirm'd truth of their humility,
They shall not see a victory: Ile make
Benjamin punish these, and after take
Vengeance on the Revengers, till they see
My mercy hath not spent mine Æquity.
This I pronounce, this is my constant will.

Now all the holy company doe fill
The heav'ns with shouts of praise, and loudly cry
All Honor, Glory, Power to the most High.

But now the Israelites once more have brought,
Their troopes into the field, once more have fought;
And whether 'twas the fault of them that led,
Or of the Soldier, once more they have fled:
And now because their battle was not long
I will not be more tedious in my Song.