The Works of Michael Drayton :: :: University of Virginia Library

This Canto our attracted Muse
The Prophets glorious birth pursues,
The various changes of his fate,
From humblenesse to high estate,
His beautie, more than mortall shape,
From Egypt how he doth escape,
By his faire bearing in his flight,
Obtaines the lovely Midianite,
Where God unto the Hebrew spake,
Appearing from the burning brake,
And backe doth him to Egypt send,
That mighty things doth there intend.

Girt in bright flames, rapt from celestiall fire,
That our unwearied faculties refine,
By zeale transported boldly we aspire
To sing a subject gloriously divine:
Him that of mortals onely had the grace,
(On whom the Spirit did in such power descend)
To talke with God face opposite to face,
Even as a man with his familiar friend.

Muse I invoke the utmost of thy might,
That with an armed and auspitious wing,
Thou be obsequious in his doubtlesse right
'Gainst the vile Atheists vituperious sting:
Where thou that gate industriously mai'st flie,
Which Nature strives but fainedly to goe,
Borne by a power so eminent and hie,
As in his course leaves reason farre below,
To shew how Poesie (simplie hath her praise)
That from full Jove takes her celestiall birth,
And quicke as fire, her glorious selfe can raise
Above this base abhominable earth.

358

O if that Time have happily reservd,
(Besides that sacred and canonicke writ,
What once in Slates and Barkes of trees was kerv'd)
Things that our Muses gravitie may fit,
Unclaspe the worlds great Register to mee,
That smoakie rust hath very neere defac'd,
That I in those dim Characters may see,
From common eyes that hath aside beene cast,
And thou Translator of that faithfull Muse
This Alls creation that divinely song,
From Courtly French (no travaile do'st refuse)
To make him Master of thy Genuin tong,
Salust to thee and Silvester thy friend,
Comes my high Poem peaceably and chaste,
Your hallow'd labours humbly to attend
That wrackfull Time shall not have power to waste.

A gallant Hebrew (in the height of life)
Amram a Levit honourably bred,
Of the same off-spring wan a beauteous wife,
And no lesse vertuous, goodly Jacobed:
So fitly pair'd that (without all ostent)
Even of the wise it hardly could be sayd
Which of the two was most preheminent,
Or he more honour'd, or she more obayd,
In both was found that liveliehood and meetnes,
By which affection any way was mov'd:
In him that shape, in her there was that sweetnes,
Might make him lik'd or her to be belov'd:
As this commixtion, so their maried mind
Their good corrected, or their ill releev'd,
As truly loving as discreetly kinde,
Mutuallie joy'd, as mutuallie greev'd:
Their nuptiall bed by abstinence maintain'd,
Yet still gave fewell to Loves sacred fire,
And when fruition plentifulli'st gain'd,
Yet were they chaste in fulnes of desire.

Now grieved Israel many a wofull day,
That at their vile servilitie repin'd,

359

Press'd with the burdens of rude boist'rous clay,
By sterne Egyptian tyrannie assign'd:
Yet still the more the Hebrewes are opprest
Like to Frim seed they fructifie the more
That by th'eternall providence fore-blest,
Goshen gives roomth but scantly to their store.
And the wise Midwives in their naturall neede,
That the faire males immediatlie should kill,
Hating s'abhord, and Hethenish a deede,
Check his harsh brutenes and rebellious will.
That small effect perceiving by the same,
Bids the men-children (greatelie that abound)
After that day into the world that came,
Upon their birth should instantly be drownd:
And now the time came had bin long foretold,
He should be borne unto the Hebrewes joy,
Whose puissant hand such fatall power should hold,
As in short time all Egipt should destroy.
The execution which more strongly forc'd,
And every where so generally done,
As in small time unnaturally divorc'd,
Many a deare Mother, and as deare a Sonne.
Though her chast bosome that faire Altar were,
Where Loves pure vowes he dutifully pay'd,
His Armes to her a Sanctuary deare,
Yet they so much his tyranny obay'd,
By free consent to separate their bed,
Better at all no Children yet to have,
Then their deare love should procreate the dead,
Untimely issue for a timelesse grave.
When in a vision whilst he slept by night,
God bids him so not Jacobed to leave,
The man that Egypt did so much affright,
Her pregnant wombe should happily conceave.

Joseph.

Soone after finding that she was with child,
The same conceales by all the meanes she can,
Lest by th'apparance she might be beguild,
If in the birth it prov'd to be a man.

360

The time she goes till her accompt was nie,
Her swelling belly no conception showes,
Nor at the time of her delivery,
As other women panged in her throwes.
When lo the faire fruit of that prospering wombe
Wounds the kinde parents in their prime of joy,
Whose birth pronounceth his too timelesse doombe
Accus'd by Nature, forming it a boy:
Yet tis so sweet, so amiably faire,
That their pleas'd eies with rapture it behold,
The glad-sad parents full of joy and care
Faine would reserve their Infant if they could,
And still they tempt the sundrie varying howers,
Hopes and despaires together strangely mixt,
Distasting sweets with many cordiall sowers,
Opposed interchangeably betwixt.
If ought it ayl'd or hapleslie it cride,
Unheard of any that she might it keepe,
With one short breath she did intreat and chide,
And in a moment she did sing and weepe.
Three lab'ring months them flatterer-like beguilde,
And danger still redoubling as it lasts,
Suspecting most the safety of the Childe,
Thus the kinde Mother carefully forecasts:
(For at three moneths a scrutinie was held,
And searchers then sent every where about,
That in that time if any were conceal'd,
They should make proofe and straitly bring them out:)
To Pharoes will she awfully must bow,
And therefore hastens to abridge these feares,
And to the flood determines it shall goe,
Yet ere it went shee'll drowne it with her teares.
This afternoone Love bids a little stay,
And yet these pauses doe but lengthen sorrow,
But for one night although she make delay,
She vowes to goe unto his death to morrow.
The morning comes, it is too early yet,
The day so fast not hast'ning on his date,

361

The gloomy Evening murther best doth fit,
The Evening come, and then it is too late.
Her pretty Infant lying on her lap
With his sweet eyes her threatning rage beguiles,
For yet he playes, and dallyes with his pap,
To mock her sorrowes with his am'rous smiles,
And laugh'd, and chuck'd: and spred the pretty hands,
When her full heart was at the point to breake,
(This little Creature yet not understands
The wofull language mothers teares did speake.)
Wherewith surpriz'd, and with a parents love,
From his faire eyes she doth fresh courage take,
And Natures lawes allowing, doth reprove
The fraile Edicts that mortall Princes make.
It shall not die, she'll keepe her child unknowne,
And come the worst in spight of Pharoes rage,
As it is hers, she will dispose her owne,
And if't must die, it'st die at riper age.
And thus revolving of her frailties care,
A thousand strange thoughts throng her troubled minde,
Sounding the dangers deepely what they are,
Betwixt the lawes of cruelty and kinde.
But it must die, and better yet to part,
Since preordain'd to this disast'rous fate,
His want will sit the neerer to the heart
In riper and more flourishing estate.
The perfect husband whose impressive soule,
Tooke true proportion of each pensive throw,
Yet had such power his passion to controule,
As not the same immediately to show.
With carriage full of comelinesse and grace,
As griefe not felt nor sorrow seem'd to lacke,
Courage and feare so temp'red in his face,
Thus his beloved Jacobed bespake.
Deare heart be patient, stay these timelesse teares,
Death of thy Son shall never quite bereave thee,
My soule with thine, that equall burthen beares,
As what he takes, my Love againe shall give thee:

362

For Israels sinne if Israels seed must suffer,
And we of meere necessity must leave him,
Please yet to grace me with this gentle offer,
Give him to me by whom thou didst conceyve him.
So though thou with so deare a jewell part,
This yet remayneth lastly to releeve thee,
Thou hast impos'd this hindrance on my heart,
Anothers losse shall need the lesse to grieve thee,
Nor are we Hebrewes abject by our name,
Though thus in Egypt hatefully despised,
That we that blessing fruitlesly should clayme
Once in that holy Covenant comprised,
It is not fit Mortality should know
What his eternall providence decreed,
That unto Abraham ratifi'd the vowe
In happy Sara and her hallowed seed.
Nor shall the wrong to godly Joseph done
In his remembrance ever be enrould,
By Jacobs sighes for his lost little sonne
A Captiv'd slave to the Egyptians sould:
Reason sets limmets to the longest griefe,
Sorrow scarse past when comfort is returning,
He sends affliction that can lend releefe,
Best that is pleas'd with measure in our mourning.

Lost in her selfe, her spirits are so distracted,
All hopes dissolv'd might fortifie her further,
Her minde seemes now of misery compacted,
That must consent unto so deere a murther.
Of slime and twigs she makes a simple shread
(The poore last duty to her child she owes
This pretty martyr, this yet living dead)
Wherein she doth his little corps enclose:
And meanes to beare it presently away,
And in some water secretly bestow it,
But yet a while bethinkes her selfe to stay,
Some little kindnesse she doeth further owe it:
Nor will she in this cruelty persever,
That by her meanes his timelesse blood be spilt,

363

If of her owne she doth her selfe deliver,
Let others hands be nocent of the guilt:
Yet if she keepe it from the ruthlesse flood
That is by Pharo's tyranny assign'd it,
What bootes that wretched miserable good,
If so dispos'd where none doe come to finde it,
For better yet the Homicide should kill it,
Or by some beast in peeces to be rent,
Than lingring famine cruelly should spill it,
That it endure a double languishment:
And neighbouring neere to the Egyptian Court,
She knowes a place that neere the river side
Was oft frequented by the worthier sort,
For now the spring was newly in her pride.
Thither she hastes but with a paynefull speed
The neerest way she possibly could get,
And by the cleere brimme mongst the flags and reede,
Her little Coffin carefully she set:
Her little Girle (the Mother following neere)
As of her Brother that her leave would take,
Which the sad woman unexpecting there,
Yet it to helpe her kindely thus bespake:
(Quoth she) sweet Miriam secretly attend,
And for his death see who approacheth hether,
That once for all assured of his end,
His dayes and mine be consummate together,
It is some comfort to a wretch to die
(If there be comfort in the way of death)
To have some friend or kinde alliance by,
To be officious at the parting breath:
Thus she departs, oft stayes, oft turneth backe,
Looking about lest any one espi'd her,
Faine would she leave, that leaving she doth lacke,
That in this sort so strangely doth divide her.
Unto what Dame (participating kinde)
My verse her sad perplexitie shall showe,
That in a softned and relenting minde
Findes not a true touch of that Mothers woe.

364

Yet all this while full quietly it slept,
(Poore little Brat incapable of care)
Which by that powerfull providence is kept,
Who doth this childe for better daies prepare.
See here an abject utterly forlorne,
Left to destruction as a violent prey,
Whom man might judge accursed to be borne,
To darke oblivion moulded up in clay,
That man of might in after times should bee
(The bounds of fraile mortality that brake)
Which that Almighty gloriously should see,
When he in thunder on mount Sinai spake.

Now Pharaoh's Daughter Termuth young & faire,
With such choyce Maydens as she favour'd most,
Needes would abroad to take the gentle ayre,
Whilst the rich yeere his braveries seem'd to boast:
Softly she walkes downe to the secret flood,
Through the calme shades most peaceable & quiet,
In the coole streames to check the pampred blood,
Stir'd with strong youth and their delicious diet;
Such as the Princesse, such the day addressed,
As though provided equally to paire her,
Either in other fortunately blessed
She by the day, the day by her made fairer,
Both in the height and fulnesse of their pleasure,
As to them both some future good divining,
Holding a steadie and accomplish'd measure,
This in her perfect clearenesse, that in shining.
The very ayre to emulate her meekenesse,
Strove to be bright and peaceable as she,
That it grew jealous of that sodaine sleekenesse,
Fearing it after otherwise might be:
And if the fleet winde by some rigorous gale
Seem'd to be mov'd, and patiently to chide her,
It was as angry with her lawnie vaile,
That from his sight it enviously should hide her:
And now approching to the flow'rie meade
Where the rich Summer curiously had dight her,

365

Which seem'd in all her jollitie arayde,
With Natures cost and pleasures to delight her:
See this most blessed, this unusuall hap,
She the small basket sooner should espie,
That the Childe wak'd, and missing of his pap,
As for her succour instantly did cry;
Forth of the flagges she caus'd it to be taken,
Calling her Maids this Orphanet to see,
Much did she joy an Innocent forsaken
By her from perill priviledg'd might be:
This most sweet Princesse pittifull and milde,
Soone on her knee unswathes it as her owne,
Found for a man, so beautifull a Childe,
Might for an Hebrew easily be knowne:
Noting the care in dressing it bestow'd,
Each thing that fitted gentlenesse to weare,
Judg'd the sad parents this lost Infant ow'd,
Were as invulgar as their fruit was faire,
(Saith she) my minde not any way suggests
An unchaste wombe these lineaments hath bred,
For thy faire brow apparently contests
The currant stampe of a cleane nuptiall bed:
She nam'd it Moyses, which in time might tell
(For names doe many mysteries expound)
When it was young the chance that it befell,
How by the water strangely it was found,
Calling Melch-women that Egyptians were,
Once to the teat his lips he would not lay,
As though offended with their sullied leare,
Seeming as still to turne his head away.

The little Girle that neere at hand did lurke,
(Thinking this while she tarried but too long)
Finding these things so happily to worke,
Kindely being crafty, wise as she was yong,
Madame (saith she) wilt please you I provide
A Nurse to breed the Infant you did finde,
There is an Hebrew dwelling here beside,
I know can doe it fitly to your minde:

366

For a right Hebrew if the Infant be,
(As well produce you instances I can,
And by this Childe as partly you may see,)
It will not sucke of an Egyptian.
The courteous Princesse offered now so faire,
That which before she earnestly desir'd,
That of her foundling had a speciall care,
The Girle to fetch her instantly requir'd:
Away the Girle goes, doth her Mother tell
What favor God had to her brother showne,
And what else in this accident befell,
That she might now be Nurse unto her owne.
Little it bootes to bid the Wench to ply her,
Nor the kinde Mother hearken to her sonne,
Nor to provoke her to the place to hie her,
Which seem'd not now on earthly feete to runne:
Slow to her selfe yet hasting as she flew,
(So fast affection forward did her beare)
As though forewafted with the breath she drew,
Borne by the force of nature and of feare,
Little the time, and little is the way,
And for her businesse eithers speede doth crave,
Yet in her haste bethinkes her what to say,
And how her selfe in presence to behave,
Slack shee'l not seeme lest to anothers trust
Her hopefull charge were happily directed,
Nor yet too forward shew her selfe she must,
Lest her sweet fraud thereby might be suspected;
Com'n she doth bow her humbly to the ground,
And every joynt incessantly doth tremble,
Gladnesse and feare each other so confound,
So hard a thing for Mothers to dissemble.
Saith this sweet Termuth, well I like thy beautie,
Nurse me this Childe (if it thy state behoove)
Although a Prince ile not enforce thy dutie,
But pay thy labour, and reward thy love:
Though even as Gods is Pharaohs high command,
And as strong Nature so precise and strict,

367

There rests that power yet in a Princesse hand,
To free one Hebrew from this strong edict:
That shall in rich abilliments be dight,
Deck'd in the Jems that admirabl'st shine,
Wearing our owne roabe gracious in our sight,
Free in our Court, and nourished for mine:
Love him deare Hebrew as he were thine owne,
Good Nurse be carefull of my little Boy,
In this to us thy kindenesse may be showne,
Some Mothers griefe, is now a Maydens joy.

This while all mute, the poore astonish'd Mother,
With admiration as transpearced stood,
One bursting joy doth so confound another,
Passion so powerfull in her ravish'd blood.
Whisp'ring some soft words which delivered were,
As rather seem'd her silence to impart,
And being inforc'd from bashfulnesse and feare,
Came as true tokens of a gracefull heart.
Thus she departs her husband to content,
With this deare present backe to him she brought,
Making the time short, telling each event,
In all shapes joy presented to her thought.
Yet still his manly modesty was such
(That his affections strongly so controlde,)
As if joy seem'd his manly heart to touch,
It was her joy and gladnesse to behold:
When all rejoyc'd unmov'd thereat the whiles,
In his grave face such constancie appeares,
As now scarse shewing comfort in his smiles,
Nor then revealing sorrow in his teares:
Yet oft beheld it with that stedfast eye,
Which though it sdain'd the pleasdnesse to confesse,
More in his lookes in fulnesse there did lie,
Than all their words could any way expresse.

In time the Princesse playing with the Childe,
In whom she seem'd her chiefe delight to take,

Josephus. Pet. Comestor.

With whom she oft the wearie time beguil'd,
That as her owne did of this Hebrew make:

368

It so fell out as Pharaoh was in place,
Seeing his daughter in the Childe to joy,
To please the Princesse, and to doe it grace,
Himselfe vouchsafes to entertaine the Boy:
Whose shape and beautie when he did behold
With much content his Princely eye that fed,
Giving to please it, any thing it would,
Set his rich Crowne upon the Infants head,
Which this weake Childe regarding not at all
(As such a Babie carelesly is meete)
Unto the ground the Diadem let fall
Spurning it from him with neglectfull feete.
Which as the Priests beheld this ominous thing
(That else had past unnoted as a toy)
As from their skill report unto the King,
This was the man that Egypt should destroy.
Tolde by the Magi that were learn'd and wise,
Which might full well the jealous King enflame,
Said by th'Egyptian ancient prophecies
That might give credite easlier to the same.
She as discreete as she was chaste and faire,
With Princely gesture and with count'nance milde
By things that hurtfull and most dangerous were
Showes to the King the weakenesse of the Childe:
Hot burning coales doth to his mouth present,
Which he to handle simply doth not sticke,
This little foole, this retchlesse Innocent
The burning gleed with his soft tongue doth licke:
Which though in Pharaoh her desire it wrought,
His babish imbecilitie to see,
To the Childes speech impediment it brought,
From which he after never could be free.

The Childe grew up, when in his manly face
Beautie was seene in an unusuall cheere,
Such mixtures sweet of comelinesse and grace
Likely apparell'd in complexion cleere.
The part of earth contends with that of heaven,
Both in their proper puritie excelling,

369

To whether more preheminence was given,
Which should excell the dweller or the dwelling.
Mens usuall stature he did farre exceede,
And every part proportioned so well,
The more the eye upon his shape did feede,
The more it long'd upon the same to dwell:
Each joynt such perfect Harmonie did beare,
That curious judgement taking any lim
Searching might misse to match it any where,
Nature so fail'd in parallelling him:
His haire bright yellow, on an arched brow
Sate all the beauties kinde could ever frame,
And did them there so orderly bestow,
As such a seate of majestie became.
As time made perfect each exteriour part,
So still his honour with his yeeres encreas'd,
That he sate Lord in many a tender heart,
With such high favours his faire youth was bless'd.

So fell it out that Æthiop warre began,
Invading Egypt with their armed powers,
And taking spoiles, the Country over-ran
To where as Memphis vaunts her climing Towers.
Wherefore they with their Oracles conferre
About th'event, which doe this answere make,
That if they would transport this civill warre,
They to their Captaine must an Hebrew take.
And for faire Moyses happily was growne
Of so great towardnesse and especiall hope,
Him they doe choose as absolutest knowne
To leade their power against the Æthiope.
Which they of Termuth hardly can obtaine,
Though on their Altars by their Gods they vowe
Him to deliver safe to her againe,
(Once the warre ended) safe as he was now.
Who for the way the Armie was to passe,
That by th'Egyptians onely was intended,
Most part by water, more prolixious was
Than present perill any whit commended:

370

To intercept the Æthiopians wrought
A way farre nearer who their Legions led,
Which till that time impassible was thought,
Such store of Serpents in that place was bred:
Devis'd by Birds this danger to eschew,
Whereof in Egypt he exceeding store,
The Storke, and Ibis, which he wisely knew,
All kindes of Serpents naturally abhore.
Which he in Baskets of Ægyptian reede,
Borne with his caridge easely doth convay,
And where incampeth sets them forth to feede,
Which drive the Serpents presently away.
Thus them preventing by this subtill course,
That all their succour sodainly bereft,
When Æthiop flies before th'Egyptian force,
Shut up in Saba their last refuge left.
Which whilst with strait siedge they beleagred long,
The Kings faire Daughter haps him to behold,
And became fettered with affection strong,

Comester.

Which in short time could hardly be controlde.
Tarbis that kindled this rebellious rage,
That they to Egypt tributorie were,
When the olde King decrepit now with age,
She in his stead the soveraigntie did beare.
Up to his Tower where she the Camp might see,
To looke her new Love every day she went,
And when he hap'ned from the field to be,
She thought her blest beholding but his Tent,
And oftentimes doth modestly invay
'Gainst him the Citie walled first about,
That the strong site should churlishly denay
Him to come in, or her for passing out,
Had the gates beene but softned as her breast
(That to behold her loved enemie stands)
He had ere this of Saba beene possest,
And therein planted the Egyptian bands:
Oft from a place as secretly she might
(That from her Pallace look'd unto his Tent)

371

When he came forth appearing in his sight,
Shewing by signes the love to him she ment.
For in what armes it pleas'd him to be dight,
After the Hebrew or th'Egyptian guise:
He was the bravest, the most goodly wight
That ever graced Æthiop with his eyes.
And finding meanes to parley from a place,
By night, her passion doth to him discover,
To yeeld the Citie if he would embrace
Her a true Princesse, as a faithfull Lover.
The feature of so delicate a Dame,
Motives sufficient to his youth had beene,
But to be Lord of Kingdomes by the same,
And of so great and absolute a Queene,
Soone gently stole him from himselfe away,
That doth to him such rarities partake,
Off'ring so rich, so excellent a prey,
Loving the treason for the Traytors sake.

But whilst he lived in this glorious vaine,
Israel his conscience oftentimes doth move,
That all this while in Egypt did remaine
Vertue and grace o'recomming youth and love.
And though God knowes unwilling to depart,
From so high Empire wherein now he stood,
And her that sate so neere unto his heart,
Such power hath Israel in his happie blood,
By skill to quit him forcibly he wrought,
As he was learn'd and traded in the starres,
Both by the Hebrewes, and th'Egyptians taught,
That were the first, the best Astronomers,
Two sundry figures makes, whereof the one
Cause them that weare it all things past forget,
As th'other of all accidents foregone

Comester ex Vet. Script.

The memory as eagerly doth whet.
Which he insculped in two likely stones,
For rarenesse of invaluable price,
And cunningly contriv'd them for the nones
In likely rings of excellent devise:

372

That of oblivion giving to his Queene,
Which soone made show the violent effect
Forgot him straight as he had never beene,
And did her former kindenesses neglect.
The other (that doth memorie assist)
Him with the love of Israel doth enflame,
Departing thence not how the Princesse wist,
In peace he leaves her as in warre he came.
But all the pleasures of th'Egyptian Court,
Had not such power upon his springing yeeres,
As had the sad and tragicall report
Of the rude burdens captiv'd Israel beares,
Nor what regards he to be grac'd of Kings?
Or flatred greatnes idely to awaite?
Or what respects he the negotiating
Matters comporting Emperie and State?
The bondage and servilitie that lay
On buried Israel (sunke in ordurous slime)
His greeved spirit downe heavily doth way,
That to leane care oft leant the prosperous time.
A wreched Hebrew hap'ned to behold
Brus'd with sad burdens without all remorse
By an Egyptian barb'rously controlde,
Spurning his pin'd and miserable corse
Which he beholding vexed as he stood,
His faire veines swelling with impatient fire,
Pittie and rage so wrestled in his blood
To get free passage to conceaved ire,
Rescuing the man th'Egyptian doth resist:
(Which from his vile hands forcibly he tooke)
And by a strong blowe with his valiant fist,
His hatefull breath out of his nostrils strooke,
Which though his courage boldly dare averre,
In the proud power of his Emperious hand,
Yet from high honour deigneth to interre,
The wretched carkasse in the smouldring sand.
Which then supposd in secret to be wrought,
Yet still hath Envie such a jealous eye,

373

As foorth the same incontinent it sought,
And to the King delivered by and by,
Which soone gave vent to Pharo's covered wrath,
Which till this instant reason did confine,
Opening a strait way, and apparant path
Unto that greate and terrible designe:
Most for his safety forcing his retreate
When now affliction every day did breed,
And when revengfull tyrannie did threate
The greatest horrour to the Hebrew seed.
To Midian now his Pilgrimage he tooke,
Midian earthes onely Paradice for pleasures,
Where many a soft Rill, many a sliding Brooke,
Through the sweet vallies trip in wanton measures,
Whereas the curl'd Groves and the flowrie fields,
To his free soule so peaceable and quiet
More true delight and choise contentment yeelds,
Than Egipts braveries and luxurious diet:
And wandring long he hap'ned on a Well,
Which he by pathes frequented might espie,
Bordred with trees where pleasure seem'd to dwell,
Where to repose him, eas'ly downe doth lie:
Where the soft windes did mutually embrace,
In the coole Arbours Nature there had made,
Fanning their sweet breath gently in his face
Through the calme cincture of the am'rous shade.
Till now it nigh'd the noone-stead of the day,
When scorching heat the gadding Heards do grieve,
When Shepheards now and Heardsmen every way,
Their thirsting Cattell to the Fountaine drive:
Amongst the rest seven Shepheardesses went
Along the way for watring of their Sheepe,
Whose eyes him seemed such reflection sent,
As made the Flocks even white that they did keepe:
Girles that so goodly and delightfull were,
The fields were fresh and fragrant in their viewe,
Winter was as the Spring time of the yeere,
The grasse so proud that in their footsteps grewe:

374

Daughters they were unto a holy man,
(And worthy too of such a Sire to be)
Jethro the Priest of fertile Midian,
Few found so just, so righteous men as he.
But see the rude Swaine, the untutour'd slave,
Without respect or rev'rence to their kinde,
Away their faire flocks from the water drave,
Such is the nature of the barb'rous Hinde.
The Maides (perceaving where a stranger sat)
Of whom those Clownes so basely did esteeme,
Were in his presence discontent thereat,
Whom hee perhaps improvident might deeme.
Which he perceaving kindely doth entreate,
Reproves the Rusticks for that off'red wrong,
Averring it an injurie too great,
To such (of right) all kindenesse did belong.
But finding well his Oratorie faile,
His fists about him frankly he bestowes,
That where perswasion could not late prevaile,
He yet compelleth quickly by his blowes.
Entreates the Dam'sels their aboade to make,
(With Courtly semblance and a manly grace,)
At their faire pleasures quietly to take,
What might be had by freedome of the place.
Whose beautie, shape, and courage they admire,
Exceeding these, the honour of his minde,
For what in mortall could their hearts desire,
That in this man they did not richly finde?
Returning sooner then their usuall hower,
All that had hapned to their Father tould,
That such a man reliev'd them by his power,
As one all civill curtesie that could:
Who full of bountie hospitably meeke
Of his behaviour greatly pleas'd to heare,
Forthwith commands his servants him to seeke,
To honour him by whom his honour'd were:
Gently receives him to his goodly seat,
Feasts him his friends and families among,

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And him with all those offices entreat,
That to his place and vertues might belong:
Whilst in the beauty of those goodly Dames,
Wherein wise Nature her owne skill admires,
He feeds those secret and impiercing flames,
Nurs'd in fresh youth, and gotten in desires:
Wonne with this man this princely Priest to dwell,
For greater hire then bounty could devise,
For her whose prayse makes prayse it selfe excell,
Fairer then fairenesse, and as wisedome wise.
In her, her Sisters severally were seene,
Of every one she was the rarest part,
Who in her presence any time had beene,
Her Angell eye transpierced not his heart?
For Zipora a Shepheards life he leads,
And in her sight deceives the subtill howres,
And for her sake oft robs the flowrie meades,
With those sweet spoiles t'enrich her rurall bowres.
Up to mount Horeb with his flocke he tooke,
The flocke wise Jethro willed him to keepe,
Which well he garded with his Shepheards crooke,
Goodly the Shepheard, goodly were the Sheepe:
To feede and folde full warily he knew,
From Fox and Wolfe his wandring flockes to free,
The goodli'st flowers that in the meadowes grew
Were not more fresh and beautifull than hee.
Gently his fayre flockes lessow'd he along,
Through the Frim pastures freely at his leasure,
Now on the hills, the vallies then among,
Which seeme themselves to offer to his pleasure.
Whilst featherd Silvans from each blooming spray,
With murm'ring waters wistly as they creepe,
Make him such musicke (to abridge the way,)
As fits a Shepheard company to keepe.
When loe that great and fearefull God of might
To that faire Hebrew strangely doth appeare,
In a bush burning visible and bright
Yet unconsuming as no fire there were:

376

With hayre erected and upturned eyes,
Whilst he with great astonishment admires,
Loe that eternall Rector of the skies,
Thus breathes to Moyses from those quickning fires,
Shake off thy Sandals (saith the thund'ring God)
With humbled feet my wondrous power to see.
For that the soyle where thou hast boldly trod,
Is most select and hallowed unto me:
The righteous Abraham for his God me knew,
Isaac and Jacob trusted in mine Name,
And did beleeve my Covenant was true,
Which to their seed shall propagate the same:
My folke that long in Egypt had beene bard,
Whose cries have entred heavens eternall gate,
Our zealous mercy openly hath heard,
Kneeling in teares at our eternall State.
And am come downe, them in the Land to see,
Where streames of milke through batfull Valleys flow,
And lushious hony dropping from the tree,
Load the full flow'rs that in the shadowes grow:
By thee my power am purposed to trie,
That from rough bondage shalt the Hebrewes bring,
Bearing that great and fearfull Embassie
To that Monarchall and Emperious King.
And on this Mountaine (standing in thy sight,)
When thou returnest from that conquered Land,
Thou hallow'd Altars unto me shalt light,
This for a token certainly shall stand.

O who am I? this wondring man replies,
A wretched mortall that I should be sent,
And stand so cleere in thine eternall eyes,
To doe a worke of such astonishment:
And trembling now with a transfixed heart,
Humbling himselfe before the Lord (quoth hee)
Who shall I tell the Hebrewes that thou art,
That giv'st this large commission unto me?
Say (quoth the Spirit from that impetuous flame)
Unto the Hebrewes asking thee of this,

377

That 'twas, I Am: which onely is my Name,
God of their Fathers, so my Title is:
Divert thy course to Goshen then againe,
And to divulge it constantly be bold,
And their glad eares attractively retaine,
With what at Sinay Abrahams God hath told:
And tell great Pharo, that the Hebrewes God
Commands from Egypt that he set you free,
Three journies thence in Desarts farre abroad,
To offer hallow'd sacrifice to mee.
But he refusing to dismisse you so,
On that proud King Ile execute such force
As never yet came from the Sling, the Bow,
The keen-edg'd Curt'lax, or the puisant Horse;
But if th'afflicted miserable sort
To idle incredulity inclin'd,
Shall not (quoth Moyses) credit my report,
That thou to me hast so great power assign'd.
Cast downe (saith God) thy Wand unto the ground,
Which hee obaying fearefully, beholde
The same a Serpent sodainly was found,
It selfe contorting into many a folde.
With such amazement Moyses doth surprise
With colde convulsions shrinking every vaine,
That his affrighted and uplifted eyes
Even shot with horrour, sinke into his braine.
But being encourag'd by the Lord to take
The ugly taile into his trembling hand,
As from a dreame he sudainely doth wake,
When at the instant it became a wand.
By the same hand into his bosome shut,
Whose eyes his withered leprosie abhor'd,
When forth he drewe it secondly be'ng put,
Unto the former puritie restor'd.
These signes he gives this sad admiring man,
Which he the weake incredulous should showe,
When this fraile mortall freshly now began
To forge new causes, why unfit to goe?

378

Egypt accusing to have done him wrong,
Scantling that bountie Nature had bestow'd,
Which had welnere depriv'd him of his tong,
Which to this office chiefely had beene ow'd:
When he whose wisdome Nature must obey,
In whose resistance reason weakely failes,
To whom all humane instances give way,
Gainst whom not subtill Argument prevailes
Thus doth reprove this idle vaine excuse,
Who made the mouth? who th'eie? or who the eare?
Or who deprives those organs of their use?
That thou thy imbecillitie should'st feare?
Thy brother Aaron commeth unto thee,
Which as thy Speaker purposely I bring,
To whom thy selfe even as a God shalt bee,
And he interpret to th'Egyptian King.
That when he at thy miracles shall wonder,
And wan with feare shall tremble at thy rod,
To feele his power that swayes the dreadfull thunder,
That is a jealous and a fearefull God.
Then shall mine owne selfe purchase me renowne,
And win me honour by my glorious deede
On all the Pharo's on th'Egyptian throne,
That this proud mortall ever shall succeede.

379

THE SECOND BOOKE.

The Argument.

Moyses doth his message bring,
Acts miracles before the King,
With him the Magi doe contend,
Which he doth conquer in the end,
When by the extensure of the wand,
He brings ten plagues upon the Land,
And in despight of Pharo's pride,
From Goshen doth the Hebrewes guide.

When now from Midian Moses forward set,
With whom his wife & faire retinew went,
Where on his way him happily hath met
His brother Aron to the Lords intent,
And to the Hebrewes in th'impatient hand,
Of mighty Egypt all his power implies,
And as the Lord expresly did command,
Acteth his wonders in their pleased eyes.
Those myracles mortality beholds
With an astonish'd and distracted looke,
The minde that so amazedly enfolds,
That every sense the faculty forsooke.
The little Infant with abundant joy,
To mans estate immediatly is sprung,
And though the old man could not back turne boy,
Casts halfe his yeeres so much becomming yong,
Whilst mirth in fulnesse measureth every eye,
Each breast is heap'd up with excesse of pleasure,
Rearing their spred hands to the glorious Skie,
Gladly imbracing the Almighties leasure.
These Hebrewes entring the Egyptian Court,
Their great Commission publiquely proclaime,
Which there repulsed as a slight report,
Doth soone denounce defiance to the same.
Where now these men their miracles commend,
By which their power precisely might be tride,

380

And Pharo for his Sorcerers doth send,
By them the Hebrewes only to deride.
Where Heaven must now apparantly transcend
Th'infernall powers Emperiously to thwart,
And the bright perfect Deitie contend
With abstruse Magicke and fallacious Art.
Never was so miraculous a strife
Where admiration ever so abounded,
Where wonders were so prodigally rife,
That to behold it Nature stood confounded.
Casting his rod a Serpent that became,
Which he suppos'd with marvaile them might strike,
When every Priest assaying in the same,
By his black skill did instantly the like:
Which Pharo's breast with arrogance doth fill,
Above the high Gods to exalt his power,
When by his might (t'amate their weaker skill)
The Hebrewes rod doth all the rods devoure:
Which deed of wonder slightly he rejects,
His froward Spirit insatiatly elate,
Which after caus'd those violent effects
That sate on Egypt with the power of Fate.
When he whose wisdome ere the world did fare,
From whom not counsell can her secrets hide,
Forewarneth Moses early to prepare
T'accost the proud King by the rivers side.

What heavenly rapture doth enrich my braine,
And through my blood extravagantly flowes,
That doth transport me to that endlesse maine,
Whereas th'Almighty his high glories showes?
That holy heat into my Spirit infuse,
Wherewith thou wont'st thy Prophets to inspire,
And lend that power to our delightfull Muse,
As dwelt in sounds of that sweet Hebruack Lyre.
A taske unusuall I must now assay,
Striving through perill to support this masse,
No former foot did ever tract a way,
Where I propose unto my selfe to passe.

381

When Moses meeting the Egyptian King,
Urgeth a fresh the Israelites depart,
And him by Aaron stoutly menacing,
To try the temper of his stubborne heart.
When loe the Torrent the fleet hurrying flood

The 1. Plague.

So cleere and perfect Christalline at hand,
As a black lake or setled marish stood
At th'extensure of the Hebrewes wand.
Where Segs, ranck Bulrush, and the sharpned Reed
That with the fluxure of the wave is fed,
Might be discern'd unnaturally to bleed,
Dying their fresh greene to a sullied red:
Like issuing ulcers every little Spring,
That being ripened voyd the filthy core,
Their lothsome slime and matter vomiting
Into the Rivers they enrich'd before:
What in her banks hath batning Nilus bred,
Serpent, or Fish, or strange deformed thing
That on her bosome she not beareth dead,
Where they were borne them lastly burying?
That Bird and Beast incontinently fly
From the detested and contagious stinke,
And rather choose by cruell thirst to dye,
Then once to taste of this contaminate drinke,
And usefull Cisternes delicatly fild,
With which rich Egypt wondrously abounds,
Looking as Bowles receiving what was spild
From mortall and immedicable wounds.
That the faint earth even poys'ned now remaines,
In her owne selfe so grievously dejected,
Horrid pollution travailing her vaines,
Desp'rate of cure so dangerously infected
The spungy soyle, that digging deepe and long
To soke cleere liquor from her plenteous pores,
This bloody issue breaketh out among,
As sickly menstrues or inveterate sores:
Seven dayes continuing in this flux of blood,
Sadly sits Egypt a full weeke of woe,

382

Shame taints the brow of every stew and flood,
Blushing, the world her filthinesse to show.
Yet sdaines proud Pharo Israel thus to free,
Nor this dire plague his hardned heart can tame,
Which he suppos'd but fallaces to bee,
When his Magitians likewise did the same.

When he againe that glorious Rod extends
'Gainst him that Heaven denieth thus to dare,
On Egypt soone a second plague that sends,
Which he till now seem'd partially to spare.
The soyle, that late the owner did enrich
Him his faire Heards and goodly flocks to feed,
Lies now a leystall or a common ditch,
Where in their Todder loathly Paddocks breed.
Where as the up-land montanous and hie
To them that sadly doe behold it showes,
As though in labour with this filthy frie,
Stirring with paine in the parturious throwes:
People from windowes looking to the ground,
At this stupendious spectacle amazed,
See but their sorrow every where abound,
That most abhorring whereon most they gazed.
Their Troughes and Ovens Toadstooles now become,
That Huswifes wont so carefully to keepe,
These loathsome creatures taking up the roome,
And croking, there continually doe creepe.
And as great Pharo on his Throne is set,
From thence affrighted with this odious thing,
Which crawling up into the same doth get,
And him deposing sitteth as a King.
The wearied man his spirits that to refresh
Gets to his bed to free him from his feare,
Scarce laid but feeles them at his naked flesh,
So small the succour that remaineth there.
No Court so close to which the speckled Toad
By some small cranny creepes not by and by,
No Tower so strong nor naturall aboad,
To which for safety any one might fly:

383

Egypt now hates the world her so should call,
Of her owne selfe so grievously asham'd,
And so contemned in the eyes of all,
As but in scorne she scarcely once is nam'd.
When this prophane King with a wounded heart
(His Magi though these miracles could doe)
Sees in his soule one greater then their Art,
Above all power, that put a hand thereto:
But as these plagues and sad afflictions ceas'd
At the just prayer of this milde godlike man,
So Pharoes pride and stubbornesse encreas'd,
And his lewd course this head-strong Mortall ran.
Which might have surelier setled in his minde,
(At his request which Moses quickly slew,
Leaving a stench so pestilent behinde)
As might preserve old sorrowes freshly new.
But stay my Muse in height of all this speed,
Somewhat plucks back to quench this sacred heat,
And many perils doth to us areed
In that whereof we seriously entreat.
Lest too concise injuriously we wrong
Things that such state and fearfulnesse impart,
Or led by zeale irregularly long,
Infringe the curious liberties of Art,
We that calumnious Critick may eschew,
That blasteth all things with his poys'ned breath,
Detracting what laboriously we doe,
Onely with that which he but idely saith.
O be our guide whose glories now we preach,
That above Bookes must steere us in our Fate,
For never Ethnick to this day did teach,
(In this) whose method we might imitate.
When now these men of miracle proceed,
And by extending of that wondrous wand,
As that resistlesse providence decreed,
Thereby brings Lyce on the distemp'red Land:
All struck with Lyce so numberlesse they lie,

The 3 Plague.

The dust growne quick in every place doth creepe,

384

The sands their want doe secondly supply,
As they at length would suffocate the Deepe:
That th'atomi that in the beames appeare,
As they the Sunne through cranies shining see,
The forme of those detested things doe beare,
So miserable the Egyptians bee:
Who rak'd the brands the passed Evening burn'd,
(As is the use the Mornings fire to keepe)
To these foule vermine findes the ashes turn'd,
Covering the Harth, so thick thereon they creepe:
Now Prince and pesant equally are drest,
The costliest silkes and coursest rags alike,
The worst goes now companion with the best,
The hand of God so generally doth strike.
The Kings Pavillion and the Captives pad
Are now in choice indifferent unto either,
Great, small, faire, foule, rich, poore, the good and bad
Doe suffer in this pestilence together,
In vaine to cleanse, in vaine to purge, and pick,
When every Moath that with the breath doth rise,
Forthwith appeareth venemously quick,
Although so small scarce taken by the eyes.
By which his wisdome strongly doth prevaile,
When this selfe-wise, this overweening man,
Even in the least, the slightest thing doth faile,
The very beggar absolutely can,
When now these Wizards with transfixed hearts
To make his glory by the same the more,
Confesse a Godhead shining through their Arts,
Which by their Magicks they deni'd before.
Yet this proud Pharo as oppugning fate,
Still doth resist that Majestie so hie,
And to himselfe doth yet appropriate
A supreame power his Godhead to deny.
When from his wilfull stubbornesse doth grow
That great amazement to all eares and eyes,
When now the Lord by Aarons Rod will show
His mighty power even in the wretched'st Flies,

385

Varying his vengeance in as many kindes,
As Pharo doth his obstinacies vary,
Suting his plagues so fitly with their mindes,
As though their sinne his punishments did cary.
In Summer time as in an Evening faire,
The Gnats are heard in a tumultuous sound
On tops of hils, so troubled is the ayre
To the disturbance of the wondring ground.
The skies are darkned as they yet doe hover
In so grosse clouds congested in their flight,
That the whole Land with multitudes they cover,
Stopping the streames as generally the light.
O cruell Land, might these not yet thee move?
Art thou alone so destitute of feare?
Or dost thou meane thy utmost to approve
How many plagues thou able art to beare?
Three have forethreatned thy destruction sure,
And now the fourth is following on as fast,
Dost thou suppose thy pride can still endure?
Or that his vengeance longer cannot last?
These are as weake and worthlesse as the rest,
Thou much infeebled, and his strength is more,
Fitly prepar'd thee sadly to infest
Thy sinnes so many, by their equall store.
This wretched creature man might well suppose
To be the least that he had need to feare,
Amongst the rest is terrifi'd with those
With which before none ever troubled were.
As we behold a swarming cast of Bees
In a swolne cluster to some branch to cleave:
Thus doe they hang in bunches on the trees,
Pressing each plant, and loading ev'ry greave.
The houses covered with these must'ring Flies,
And the faire windowes that for light were made,
Eclips'd with horror, seeming to their eyes
Like the dimme twilight, or some ominous shade.
For humane food what Egypt had in store,
The creatures feed on, till they bursting die,

386

And what in this unhappy Land was more,
Their loathsome bodies lastly putrifie.

O goodly Goshen where the Hebrewes rest,
How deare thy children in th'Almighties sight,
That for their sakes thou onely should'st be blest,
When all these plagues on the Egyptians light?
What promis'd people rested thee within,
To whom no perill ever might aspire,
For whose deare sake some watchfull Cherubin
Stood to defend thee arm'd in glorious fire?
Thou art that holy Sanctuary made,
Where all th'afflicted cast aside their feare,
Whose priviledges ever to invade,
The Heavens command their horrors to forbeare.
But since mans pride and insolence is such,
Nor by these plagues his will to passe could bring,
Now with a sharpe and wounding hand will touch
The dearer body of each living thing:
To other ends his courses to direct,
By all great meanes his glory to advance,
Altreth the cause by altring the effect,
To worke by wonder their deliverance.

As Aaron grasping ashes in his hand,
Which scarcely cast into the open aire,
But brings a murraine over all the Land,

The 5. Plague.

With scabs and botches such as never were.
What chewes the cud, or hoofe or horne alotted,
Wild in the fields, or tamed by the yoke,
With this contagious pestilence is rotted,
So universall's the Almighties stroke.
The goodly Horse of hot and fiery straine
In his high courage hardly brook'd his food,
That Ditch or Mound not lately could containe,
On the firme ground so scornfully that stood,
Crest-falne hangs downe his hardly manag'd head,
Lies where but late disdainfully he trod,
His quick eye fixed heavily and dead,
Stirres not when prick'd with the impulsive goad.

387

The Swine which Nature secretly doth teach,
Onely by fasting sicknesses to cure,
Now but in vaine is to it selfe a Leech,
Whose suddaine end infallibly is sure.
Where frugall Shepheards reckoning wooll and lambe,
Or who by Heards hop'd happily to winne,
Now sees the young-one perish with the damme,
Nor dare his hard hand touch the poys'ned skinne.
Those fertile pastures quickly over-spread
With their dead Cattell, where the birds of prey
Gorg'd on the garbidge (wofully bestead)
Pois'ned fall downe as they would fly away.
And hungry dogs the tainted flesh refrain'd,
Whereon their Master gormondiz'd of late,
What Nature for mans appetite ordain'd,
The creature that's most ravenous doth hate.
Thus all that breathes and kindly hath encrease,
Suffer for him that proudly did offend,
Yet in this manner here it shall not cease,

The 6 Plague.

In Beasts begun, in wretched man to end.
To whom it further violently can,
Not by th'Almighty limited to slake,
As Beast is plagued for rebellious man,
Man in some measure must his paine partake.
Those dainty breasts that open'd lately were,
Which with rich vaines so curiously did flow,
With Biles and Blaines most loathsome doe appeare,
Which now the Dam'zell not desires to show.
Features disfigur'd onely now the faire,
(All are deformed) most ill-favour'd be,
Where beautie was most exquisite and rare,
There the least blemish easili'st you might see.
For costly garments fashion'd with device
To forme each choise part curious eyes to please,
The sicke mans Gowne is onely now in price
To give their bloch'd and blistred bodies ease,
It is in vaine the Surgeons hand to prove,
Or helpe of Physicke to asswage the smart,

388

For why the power that ruleth from above
Crosseth all meanes of industrie and Art.
Egypt is now an Hospitall forlorne,
Where onely Cripples and diseased are,
How many Children to the world are borne,
So many Lazers thither still repaire.
When those proud Magi as oppos'd to Fate,
That durst high Heav'n in ev'ry thing to dare,
Now in most vile and miserable state
As the mean'st Caitive equally doe fare.
Thus stands that man so eminent alone,
Arm'd with his power that governeth the skie,
Now when the Wizards lastly overthrowne,
Groveling in sores before his feete doe lie.
Not one is found unpunished escapes
So much to doe his hungry wrath to feede,
Which still appeareth in as many shapes
As Pharaoh doth in tyrannies proceede.
Even as some grave wise Magistrate to finde
Out some vile treason, or some odious crime

A similie of Gods justice.

That beareth every circumstance in minde,
Of place, of manner, instance, and of time:
That the suspected strongly doth arest,
And by all meanes invention can devise
By hopes or torture out of him to wrest
The ground, the purpose, and confederacies,
Now slacks his paine, now doth the same augment,
Yet in his strait hand doth containe him still,
Proportioning his allotted punishment
As hee's remoov'd or pliant to his will.
But yet hath Egypt somewhat left to vaunt,
What's now remaining, may her pride repaire,
But lest she should perhaps be arrogant,
Till she be humbled he will never spare.
These plagues seeme yet but nourished beneath,
And even with man terrestrially to move,
Now Heaven his furie violently shall breath,
Rebellious Egypt scourging from above.

389

Winter let loose in his robustious kinde

The 7. Plague.

Wildly runnes raving through the airie plaines,
As though his time of liberty assign'd
Roughly now shakes off his impris'ning chaines.
The windes spet fire in one anothers face,
And mingled flames fight furiously together,
Through the mild Heaven that one the other chace,
Now flying thence and then returning thether.
No light but lightning ceaselesly to burne
Swifter than thought from place to place to passe,
And being gone doth sodainly returne
Ere you could say precisely that it was.
In one selfe moment darkenesse and the light
Instantly borne, as instantly they die,
And every minute is a day and night
That breakes and sets in twinkling of an eye.
Mountaine and valley suffer one selfe ire,
The stately Tower and lowlie coate alike,
The shrub and Cedar this impartiall fire
In one like order generally doth strike,
On flesh and plant this subtill lightning praies,
As through the pores it passage fitly findes,
In the full wombe the tender burthen slaies,
Piercing the stiffe trunke through the spungie rindes.
Throughout this great and universall Ball
The wrath of Heaven outragiously is throwne,
As the lights quickning and Celestiall,
Had put themselves together into one.
This yet continuing the big-bellied clouds,
With heate and moisture in their fulnesse brake,
And the sterne Thunder from the ayrie shrouds
To the sad world in feare and horrour spake.
The blacke storme bellowes and the yerning vault,
Full charg'd with furie as some signall given,
Preparing their artillirie t'assault,
Shoot their sterne vollies in the face of Heaven.
The bolts new wing'd with fork'd Æthereall fire,
Through the vast Region every where doe rove,

390

Goring the earth in their impetuous ire,
Pierce the proud'st building, rend the thickest Grove.
When the breeme Haile as rising in degrees
Like ruffled arrowes through the aire doth sing,
Beating the leaves and branches from the trees,
Forcing an Autumne earlier than the Spring.
The Birds late shrouded in their safe repaire,
Where they were wont from Winters wrath to rest,
Left by the tempest to the open aire
Shot with cold bullets through the trembling brest:
Whilst cattell grasing on the batfull ground,
Finding no shelter from the showre to hide
In ponds and ditches willingly are drownd,
That this sharpe storme no longer can abide:
Windowes are shivered to forgotten dust,
The slates fall shatt'red from the roofe above,
Where any thing findes harbour from this gust,
Now even as death it feareth to remove.
The rude and most impenitrable rocke
Since the foundation of the world was laid,
Never before stir'd with tempestuous shocke,
Melts with this storme as sensibly afraid.
Never yet with so violent a hand,
A brow contracted and so full of feare,
God scourg'd the pride of a rebellious Land,
Since into Kingdomes Nations gathered were.
But he what Mortall was there ever knowne,
So many strange afflictions did abide
On whom so many miseries were throwne,
Whom Heaven so oft and angerly did chide?
Who but relenting Moyses doth relieve?
Taking off that which oft on him doth light,
Whom God so oft doth punish and forgive,
Thereby to prove his mercy and his might.
So that eternall providence could frame
The meane whereby his glory should be tride,
That as he please, miraculously can tame
Mans sensuall wayes, his transitorie pride.

391

But Pharaoh bent to his rebellious will,
His hate to Israel instantly renues,
Continuing Author of his proper ill,
When now the plague of Grashoppers ensues.

Long ere they fell, on 'th face of Heaven they hong,
In so vast clouds as covered all the skies,

The 8. Plague.

Colouring the Sun-beames piercing through their throng,
With strange distraction to beholding eyes.
This idle creature that is said to sing
In wanton Sommer, and in Winter poore,
Praising the Emmets painefull labouring,
Now eates the labourer and the heaped store.
No blade of grasse remaineth to be seene,
Weed, hearb, nor flower, to which the Spring gives birth,
Yet ev'ry path even barren hills are greene,
With those that eate the greenenesse from the earth.
What is most sweet, what most extreamely sowre,
The loathsome Hemlock as the verdurous Rose,
These filthy Locusts equally devoure,
So doe the Heavens of every thing dispose.
The trees all barcklesse nakedly are left
Like people stript of things that they did weare,
By the enforcement of disastrous theft,
Standing as frighted with erected haire.
Thus doth the Lord her nakednesse discover,
Thereby to prove her stoutnesse to reclaime,
That when nor feare, nor punishment could move her,
She might at length be tempred with her shame.
Disrob'd of all her ornament she stands,
Wherein rich Nature whilome did her dight,
That the sad verges of the neighbouring lands
Seeme with much sorrow wondring at the sight.
But Egypt is so impudent and vile,
No blush is seene that pittie might compell,
That from all eyes to cover her awhile,
The Lord in darkenesse leaveth her to dwell.

Over the great and universall face

The 9. Plague.

Are drawne the Curtaines of the horrid night,

392

As it would be continually in place,
That from the world had banished the light.
As to the sight, so likewise to the tuch
Th'appropriate object equally is dealt,
Darkenesse is now so palpable and much,
That as 'tis seene, as easily is felt.
Who now it hap'd to travell by the way,
Or in the field did chance abroad to rome,
Loosing himselfe then wandred as a stray,
Nor findes his hostrie, nor returneth home.
The Cocke the Country horologe that rings,
The cheerefull warning to the Sunnes awake,
Missing the dawning scantles in his wings,
And to his Roost doth sadly him betake.
One to his neighbour in the darke doth call,
When the thicke vapour so the aire doth smother,
Making the voyce so hideous there withall,
That one's afeard to goe unto the other.
The little Infant for the Mother shreekes,
Then lyes it downe astonished with feare,
Who for her Childe whilst in the darke she seekes,
Treads on the Babe that she doth holde so deare.
Darkenesse so long upon the Land doth dwell,
Whilst men amaz'd, the houres are stolne away,
Erring in time that now there's none can tell,
Which should be night, and which should be the day.
Three doubled nights the proud Egyptian lyes
With hunger, thirst, and wearinesse opprest,
Onely relieved by his miseries,
By feare enforced to forget the rest.
Those lights and fires they laboured to defend
With the foule dampe that over all doth flowe
Such an eclipsed sullidnesse doth send,
That darkenesse farre more terrible doth show:
When this perplexed and astonish'd King
'Twixt rage and feare distracted in his minde,
Israel to passe now freely limiting,
Onely their cattell to be staid behinde.

393

Commanding Moyses to depart his sight,
And from that time to see his face no more,
Which this milde man doth willingly aquite
That he well knew would come to passe before.
That for the Droves the Israelites should leave,
Forbid by Pharaoh to be borne away:
Israel shall Egypt of her store bereave,
To beare it with her as a violent prey:
So wrought her God in the Egyptians thought,
As he is onely provident and wise,
That he to passe for his choise people brought,
More than mans wisedome ever might devise.
Touching their soft breasts with a wounding love
Of those who yet they enviously admir'd,
Which doth the happy Jacobites behove,
To compasse what they instantly requir'd,
That every Hebrew borrowed of a friend,
Some speciall Jewell fainedly to use,
Every Egyptian willing is to lend,
Nor being ask'd can possibly refuse.
Now Closets, Chests, and Cabinets are sought
For the rich Jem, the raritie, or thing,
And they the happiest of the rest are thought,
That the high'st priz'd officiously could bring.
Rings, chaines, and bracelets, jewels for the eare,
The perfect glorious, and most lustrous stone,
The Carcanet so much requested there,
The Pearle most orient, and a Paragon.
What thing so choice that curious Art could frame,
Luxurious Egypt had not for her pride?
And what so rare an Israelite could name,
That he but asking was thereof denide?

When God doth now the Passeover command,
Whose name that sacred mysterie doth tell,
That he pass'd o'r them with a sparefull hand,
When all the first-borne of th'Egyptians fell,
Which should to their posteritie be taught,
That might for ever memorize this deede,

394

The fearefull wonders he in Egypt wrought,
For Abrahams off-spring Sarahs promis'd seede.
A Lambe unblemish'd, or a spotlesse Kid,
That from the dam had wained out a yeere,
Which he without deformitie did bid,
Held to himselfe a sacrifice so deere.
Rosted and eaten with unleav'ned bread,
And with sowre hearbs such viands as became,
Meate for the Ev'ning, that prohibited
The Morne ensuing partner of the same.
Girding their loynes, shooes fastned to their feete,
Staves in their hands, and passing it to take,
In manner as to travailers is meete,
A voyage forth immediately to make.
Whose bloud being put upon the utmost posts,
Whereby his chosen Israelites he knew,
That night so dreadfull, when the Lord of Hosts
All the first borne of the Egyptians slew.

The 10. Plague.

Darkenesse invades the world, when now forth went
The spoiling Angell as the Lord did will,
And where the dore with bloud was not besprent,
There the first borne he cruelly did kill.
Night never saw so tragicall a deed,
Thing so repleate with heavinesse and sorrow,
Nor shall the day hereafter ever reade,
Such a blacke time as the insuing morrow.
The dawne now breaking, and with open sight
When every lab'ring and affrighted eye
Beholds the slaughter of the passed night,
The parting plague protracted miserie.
One to his neighbour hasts his heedlesse feete,
To bring him home his heavie chance to see,
And him he goes to by the way doth meete,
As grieved and as miserable as he.
Who out of dore now hastily doth come,
Thinking to howle and bellow forth his woe,
Is for his purpose destitute of roome,
Each place with sorrow doth so overflow.

395

People awaked with this sodaine fright,
Runne forth their dores as naked as they be,
Forget the day, and bearing candle light
To helpe the Sunne their miseries to see.
Who lost his first borne ere this plague begun,
Is now most happy in this time of woe,
Who mourn'd his eld'st a daughter or a sonne,
Is now exempt from what the rest must doe.
To one that faines poore comfort to his friend,
His Childe was young and neede the lesse be car'd,
Replies if his had liv'd the others end,
Withall his heart he could him well have spar'd.
No eye can lend a mourning friend one teare,
So busie is the gen'rall heart of moane,
So strange confusion sits in every eare,
As wanteth power to entertaine his owne.
Imparted woe (the heavie hearts reliefe)
When it hath done the utmost that it may,
Outright is murth'red with a second griefe,
To see one mute tell more than it can say:
The greatest blessing that the heart could give,
The joy of Children in the married state,
To see his curse the parent now doth live,
And none be happy but th'infortunate.
Whilst some for buriall of their Children stay,
Others passe by with theirs upon the Beere,
Which from the Church meet Mourners by the way,
Others they finde that yet are burying there.
Afflicted London, in sixe hundred three,
When God thy sinne so grievously did strike,
And from th'infection that did spring from thee,
The spacious Ile was patient of the like.
That sickly season, when I undertooke
This composition faintly to supply,
When thy affliction serv'd me for a booke,
Whereby to modell Egypts miserie,
When pallid horrour did possesse thy streete,
Nor knew thy Children refuge where to have,

396

Death them so soone in every place did meete,
Unpeopling houses to possesse the grave.

When wofull Egypt with a wounded heart
So many plagues that suffered for their stay,
Now on their knees entreate them to depart,
And even impatient of their long delay.
Sixe hundred thousand Israelites depart,
Besides the Nations that they thence releas'd,
And Hebrew Babes the joy of many a heart,
That Sarahs happie promises had bless'd.
After foure hundred thirtie yeeres expir'd,
(Measuring by minutes many a wofull houre)
That day they came they thence againe depart,
By his eternall providence and power.
With all the jewels Egypt could afford
With them away that wisely they did beare,
Th'Egyptians aske not to have backe restor'd,
All then so busie at their burials were:

Comester in Exod.

And Josephs bones precisely thence convay,
Whose Tombe by Nyl's oft Inundations drown'd,
(Yet the deceased straitlie to obay)
By Moyses was miraculously found.

Tetragrammaton.

Who did in gold that powerfull word ingrave,
By which th'Almighty fully is exprest,
Which bare the mettall floting on the wave,
Till o'r his Coffin lastly it did rest.
As by a sheepe that shew'd them to the same,
To make them mindfull of the reverent dead,
Which Beast thence-forth they called by Josephs name,
And when they went from Egypt with them led.
But that he thus did finde his burying place,
As we tradition wisely may suspect,
We onely this as Historie embrace,
But else in faith as fabulous neglect.

397

THE THIRD BOOKE.

The Argument.

God drownes th'Egyptians in his ire,
Doth march before his host in fire,
From the hard rocks strikes gushing springs,
Raines Quailes and Manna, conquers Kings,
And fearefull plagues on them doth trie,
For murm'ring and idolatrie:
Unto the promis'd Land them brought,
When it they fortie yeeres had sought;
Balaam to blesse them he doth send,
Their good successe, milde Moyses end.

Those which at home scorn'd Pharaoh and his force,
And whose departure he did humbly pray,
He now pursues with his Egyptian horse
And warlike foote to spoile them on the way.
Where his choice people strongly to protect,
The onely God of Emperie and might,
Before his host his standard doth erect,
A glorious pillar in a field of light,
Which he by day in sable doth unfolde,
To dare the Sonne his Ardour to forbeare,
By night converts it into flaming golde,
Away the coldnesse of the same to feare.
Not by Philistia he his force will leade,
Though the farre nearer and the happier way,
His men of warre a glorious march shall tread
On the vast bowels of the bloudie Sea,
And sends the windes as Currers forth before
To make them way from Pharaohs power to flie,
And to convay them to a safer shore,
Such is his might that can make Oceans drie.
Which by the stroke of that commanding wand,
Shouldred the rough seas forcibly together,
Raised as Rampiers by that glorious hand,
(Twixt which they march) that did conduct them thither.

398

The surly waves their Rulers will obay'd
By him made up in this confused masse,
Like as an Ambush secretly were laid,
To set on Pharaoh as his power should passe,
Which soone with wombes insatiably wide,
Loos'd from their late bounds by th'Almighties power,
Come raging in, enclosing every side,
And the Egyptians instantly devoure.
The Sling, the stiffe Bow, and the sharpned Launce,
Floting confus'dly on the waters rude,
They which these weapons lately did advance,
Perish in sight of them that they pursude.
Clashing of Armours, and the rumorous sound
Of the sterne billowes in contention stood,
Which to the shores doe every way rebound,
As doth affright the Monsters of the flood.
Death is discern'd triumphantly in Armes
On the rough Seas his slaughtery to keepe,
And his colde selfe in breath of mortals warmes,
Upon the dimpled bosome of the deepe.
There might you see a Checkquer'd Ensigne swim
About the bodie of the envi'd dead,
Serve for a hearse or coverture to him,
Ere while did waft it proudly 'bout his head:
The warlike Chariot turn'd upon the backe
With the dead horses in their traces tide,
Drags their fat carkasse through the fomie bracke
That drew it late undauntedly in pride.
There floats the bard Steed with his Rider drownd,
Whose foot in his caparison is cast,
Who late with sharpe spurs did his Courser wound,
Himselfe now ridden with his strangled beast.
The waters conquer (without helpe of hand)
For them to take for which they never toile,
And like a Quarrie cast them on the land,
As those they slew they left to them to spoile.
In eightie eight at Dover that had beene,
To view that Navie (like a mighty wood)

399

Whose sailes swept Heaven, might eas'lie there have seene,
How puissant Pharaoh perish'd in the floud.
What for a conquest strictly they did keepe,
Into the channell presently was pour'd,
Castilian riches scattered on the deepe,
That Spaines long hopes had sodainly devour'd.
Th'afflicted English rang'd along the Strand
To waite what would this threatning power betide,
Now when the Lord with a victorious hand
In his high justice scourg'd th'Iberian pride.
Hence three dayes march to Mara leades them on,
Where Surs wilde Desarts as the Armie past
Seemed as from their presence to have flowne,
The mountaines stood so miserably agast.
Where for with drought they hardly are bested,
And the foule waters bitter as the gall,
That they should through this wildernesse be led
To thanklesse murm'ring presently they fall.
God pointeth Moyses to a precious tree,
Whose medc'nall branches cast into the lake,
Of that rare vertue he approv'd to be,
The waters sweet and delicate to make.
Not that his hand stands any way in neede
Of mediate meanes his purposes to bring,
But that in state his wisedome will proceede
To shew his power in every little thing.
Nor Metaphysickes fully him confine,
All measuring so immeasurably great,
That doth in Nature every cause combine,
This All in him so amply hath receate.
Which might have learn'd them in this helpelesse case,
With tribulations willingly to meete,
When men with patience troubles doe embrace,
How oftentimes it makes affliction sweete.
And his free bountie fully now they found,
As they from Mara for mount Sina made,
Pitching in Elim in that plenteous ground
Of pleasant fountaines and delicious shade.

400

But as at Sur, so they againe at Sin,
Before of thirst, of hunger now complaine,
Wishing they might in Egypt still have bin,
Where never famine all their time did raigne.

When clouds of Quailes from the Arabian shore
Upon the Campe immediately are sent,
Which came so long and in such marv'lous store,
That with their flight they smother'd every Tent:
This glads the Ev'ning, each unto his rest,
With soules even sated with these dainty Cates,
And the great goodnesse of the Lord confest,
That in like measure each participates.
The morne strewes Manna all about the host
(The meate of Angels) mortals to refresh,
Candying the fresh grasse, as the Winters frost,
Never such bread unto so dainty flesh.
O Israel pampred with this heavenly food,
Which else to Nations earthly he denies,
To raise thy spirits, to rectifie thy blood
With these so rare celestiall purities.
Then the fat flesh-pots they so much desire,
Whereon in Egypt gluttoning they fed,
When they came hungry home from carrying mire,
Which onely dulnesse, and grosse humours bred.
Yet in the sweetnesse and th'abundant store,
His power not so conclusively exprest,
But who tooke most not capable of more
Then in his Gomer he that gathered least.
By night corrupting, each day gath'ring new,
But for the Sabbath what they did provide,
That day descended not that heavenly dewe,
That as that day was onely sanctifide.
Thence through those Desarts desolate and drie,
They reach to Reph'dem where as they should passe,
There was not found a fountaine farre nor nie,
Such want of water every where there was.
Thither the Lord by Moyses did them bring,
His force the faithlesse Israelites might know,

401

For even in the impossiblest thing,
He most delights his wondrous might to show.
Farre worse than Mara is this fruitlesse soile,
For there were waters (bitter though they were)
But here are none, though sought with ne're such toile,
That they from murm'ring longer not forbeare.
Commanding Moyses he should take the Rod,
Wherewith in Egypt he such wonders wrought,
For that most wise, that secret-seeing God
Saw there were some thus reasoned in their thought.
The misterie of that miraculous wand
He did to plagues and fearefull things imply,
That Aaron yet ne're tooke it in his hand,
When worke of mercy was atchiev'd thereby.
Therefore bids Moyses to this high intent,
The same to use, they visibly might see,
That this which erst had beene the instrument
Of justice, so of clemencie to be.
Which with a blow, the Cleeves in sunder crackt,
As with an earthquake violently rent,
Whence came so strong and rough a Cataract,
That in the stones wore gutters as it went.
The Springs spout forth such plenty, that withall
Downe the slope sides it violently swept,
So divers wayes, so various in the fall,
Through every cranny the cleare water crept.
In Pailes, Kits, Dishes, Basons, Pinboukes, Bowles,
Their scorched bosomes merrily they baste,
Untill this very howre their thirstie soules
Never touch'd water of so sweet a taste.
Scarcelie suffic'd but in the very neck
Of this, 'tis bruted by the watchfull post,
That the neere-bordring envious Amaleck,
Was marching towards them with a mighty host,
When he forth Josua from the rest doth draw,
A man selected, of couragious spirit,
Which Moyses with propheticke eye foresaw,
Should be the man, his roome that should inherit.

402

Commanding him to muster out of hand,
And draw his forces presently to head,
Against that proud Amalakite to stand,
Which in the field a puissant Armie led.
Whilst on rocke Horeb, with erected hand,
Bearing the Rod up to the glorious skie,
'Twixt Hur and Aaron, Amrams sonne doth stand,
Whilst both the hosts for victorie doe trie.
When blades are brandish'd and the fight begun,
Warres thundring horror trumpets doe proclaime,
With the reflection of the radiant Sunne,
Seemes to beholders as a generall flame.
Much courage and dexteritie that day
On either part sufficiently is showne,
And on the earth full many a Souldier lay,
Thrusting through danger to make good his owne.
Here men might see how many a strenuous guide
Striveth to make his enemie to bleede,
Now the fierce vaward, then the rereward plide,
As he perceiveth the Battalians neede.
They fight the full day, he the Rod upheld,
But when his strength by long continuing failes,
Where as before the Israelites had queld,
The adverse proud Amalakite prevailes.
Whilst the two Hebrewes provident of harmes,
Setting grave Moses downe upon a stone,
And by their force support his wearied armes,
Untill the foe was lastly overthrowne.

Jethro the just to whom report had told,
Th'atchievement wrought by his renowned sonne,
That all the world did tributary hold,
By deeds in Egypt God by him had done:
This good old man to consummate their joyes
In happy houre his sonne is come to see,
Bringing his wife and his two little Boyes,
Moses sent back in Midian safe to bee:
Which by this time two proper Youthes are growne,
Bred by their Grandsire with exceeding care,

403

In all the host there hardly could be showne,
That with those Boyes for beauty could compare.
Such mirth and feasting as for them was seene,
For this grave Father and this goodly Dame,
Unto this day in Israel had not beene,
Since to kinde Joseph righteous Jacob came.
The day mild Moses scarcely can suffice,
To tell this man the troubles they had past,
The wonders God had acted in their eyes,
Since they in Midian kindly parted last.
Jethro that mark'd the paines that Moses tooke
In rising early, and in resting late,
That did himselfe into all causes looke,
And in his person censure each debate:
This Princely Priest a man exceeding wise,
And long experienc'd in this great affaire,
(For at that time few States or Monarchies
Whose government he could not well declare)
Reproves good Moses in this zealous deed:
(Quoth he) me thinks thou dost not well in this,
The course wherein I see thou dost proceed
Trouble to thee and to the people is.
Appoint out Judges, and inferiour Courts,
Twixt the Plebeians and thy selfe to bee,
From them receive those matters by report,
Speake thou to God, and let them speake to thee,
In things important be thou still in place,
In lesser causes leaving them to deale,
So may you both your quietnes embrace
By an exact and perfect Common-weale.

Now when to Sina they approched neare,
God calls up Moyses to the mount above,
And all the rest commaundeth to forbeare,
Nor from the bounds assign'd them to remove.
For who those limits loosely did exceede,
(Which were by Moses mark'd them out beneath)
The Lord had irrevocably decreed
With darts or stones should surely die the death:

404

Where as the people in a wondrous fright
(With hearts transfixed even with frosen blood)
Beheld their Leader openly in sight
Passe to the Lord, where he in glory stood.
Thunder and Lightning led him downe the ayre,
Trumpets celestiall sounding as he came,
Which struck the people with astounding feare,
Himselfe invested in a splendorous flame.
Sina before him fearfully doth shake,
Covered all over in a smouldring smoake,
As ready the foundation to forsake,
On the dread presence of the Lord to looke.
Erect your spirits and lend attentive eare
To marke at Sina what to you is said,
Weake Moses now you shall not simply heare,
The sonne of Amram and of Jacobed.
But he that Adam did imparadise,
And lent him comfort in his proper blood,
And saved Noah, that did the Arke devise,
When the old world else perish'd in the flood,
To righteous Abraham, Canaan franckly lent,
And brought forth Isaak so extreamly late,
Jacob so faire and many children sent,
And rais'd chast Joseph to so high estate.
He whose just hand plagu'd Egypt for your sake,
That Pharaohs power so scornefully did mock,
Way for his people through the Sea did make,
Gave food from Heaven, and water from the Rock.
Whilst Moses now in this cloud-covered hill,
Full forty dayes his pure aboade did make,
Whilst that great God in his almighty will,
With him of all his Ordinances brake.
The Decalogue from which Religion tooke
The being: sinne and righteousnesse began
The different knowledge: and the certaine booke
Of testimony betwixt God and man.
The Ceremoniall as Judicious lawes,
From his high wisdome that receiv'd their ground,

405

Not to be altred in the smallest clause,
But as their Maker wondrously profound.
The composition of that sacred Phane,
Which as a Symbol curiously did shew,
What all his six dayes workmanship containe,
Whose perfect modell his owne finger drew.
Whose absence thence gave leasure to their lust,
Oppugning Aaron, Idols them to frame,
And by their power still strengthen this disgust,
In him denouncing the Almighties name.
A gold-made God how durst you ever name,
For him so long had led you from the Skie,
In sight of Sina crowned with a flame,
His glory thence residing in your eye?
Such things might melt mortality to see,
That even the very Elements did fright,
He that in Egypt had perform'd for thee,
What made the world amazed at his might.
Thy soule transpierced ne'r before thou felt'st,
But like a Quarry 't even clave thy breast,
Comming from Sina when as thou beheld'st
Th'elected Israel kneeling to a Beast.
Him sence forsooke, his sinewes strengthlesse are,
He came so much amazed there-withall,
The stony Tables slip'd him unaware,
That with their owne weight brake them in the fall.
Downe this proud lump ambitiously he flung
Into base dust dissolving it with fire,
That since they for variety did long,
They should thereby even surfet their desire.
And sent the minerall through their hatefull throats,
Whence late those horrid blasphemies did flie
On bestiall figures when they fell to doate
In prostitution to idolatrie.
Now when this potion that they lately tooke,
This Chymick medicine (their deserved fare)
Upon their beards, and on their bosome stooke,
He doth their slaughter presently prepare.

406

What's he himselfe to Levie could allie
Before this Calfe not sinfully did fall,
Girds not his broad blade to his sinewie thie,
When he heares Moyses unto Armes to call?
Killing not him appointed he should slay,
Though they had slep'd in eythers armes before,
Though in one wombe they at one burthen lay,
Yea when this dead, though that could be no more?
You whom not Egypts tyranie could wound,
Nor Seas, nor Rockes could any thing denie,
That till this day no terrour might astound
On the sharpe points of your owne swords to die?

When Moyses now those Tables to renew
Of that essentiall Deitie doth merit,
(Which from his hands he dissolutely threw
In the deepe anguish of his greeved spirit.
When forty dayes without all nat'rall food)
He on mount Sina fixed his abode,
Retayning strength and fervour in his blood,
Rap'd with the presence of that glorious God.
Who in his high estate whilst he passed by
In the cleft rocke that holy man did hide,
Lest he should perish by his radiant eye,
When Moyses seeing but his glorious side
Celestiall brightnesse ceazed on his face,
That did the wondring Israelites amaze,
When he returned from that sovereigne place,
His browes encircled with splendidious rayes.
That their weake sight beholding of the same,
He after cover'd from the common eyes,
Lest when for answer unto him they came,
The lusting people should idolatrize.

Might we those mustred Israelites admire
From plaines of Sina mighty Moyses led,
Or else to view that opulence desire,
To that rich Arke so freely offered.
The mervailous modell of that rarest peece
Th'ingravings, carvings, and embroderies tell,

407

The cunning worke and excellent device
Of neat Aholiab, and Bezaliell.
But we our Moyses seriously pursue,
And our strong nerves to his high praise applie,
That through this maze shall guide us as a Clue,
And may his vertues absolutely trie.
Whose charge being weary of their mighty Armes,
And much offended they had march'd so long,
As oft disturbed with their sterne Alarmes,
Suppose by Moyses to have suffered wrong.
When with the luggage such as lagd behinde,
And that were set the Cariages to keepe,
Gainst God and Moyses greevously repinde,
Wanting a little sustinance and sleepe.
Who with their murm'ring moved in his ire,
That they so soone his providence mistrust,
Downe from his full hand flung that forcefull fire,
Which in a moment brus'd their bones to dust.
Other the mutt'ring Israelites among
When now to Pharan having come so farre
For flesh, fish, sallads, and for fruites doe long,
Manna (they say) is not for men of warre.
Their glut'nous stomackes loath that heav'nly bread,
Who with full Chargers hunger heere releeves,
As by the belly when they strongly fed
On harty Garlicke and the flesh of Beeves?
Milde man, what fearefull agony thee vex'd,
When thou thy God unkindly didst upbrayd?
How greevously thy suffring soule perplex'd,
When thou repin'st the charge on thee was layd?
With God to reason why he should dispose
On thee that burthen heavy to sustaine,
As though he did his purposes enclose
Within the limits of mans shallow brayne.
To judge so many marching every day,
That all the flesh of Forrest and of flood,
(When the wilde Desarts scarcely yeeld them way)
Should them suffice for competence of food.

408

That thou shouldst wish that hand so full of dread,
Thy lingring breath should sodainly expire,
Then that the clamorous multitude should spread,
Those wicked slanders to incite his ire.
That God to punish whom he still did love,
And in compassion of thy frailties feare,
The spirit he gave thee lastly should remove
To those thy burthen that should after beare.
O wondrous man! who parallel'd thee ever?
How large a portion diddest thou inherit?
That unto seventie he should it dissever,
Yet all be Prophets only with thy Spirit?
When loe a Cloud comes sailing with the winde
Unto these Rebels terrible to see,
That when they now some fearefull thing divin'd,
A flight of Quailes perceived it to be.
A full dayes journey round about the host,
Two Cubits thicknes over all they flowe,
That when by Israel he was tempted most,
His glory then most notably to show.
The greedy people with the very sight
Are fill'd before they come thereof to taste,
That with such surfet gluts their appetite
Their queasie stomacks ready are to cast.
Those that for Beefe in Gluttonie did call
Those the high'st God his powerfulnes to trie,
Cloyes with the fowle that from the Heavens doe fall,
Untill they stuffe their stomackes by the eye.
But whilst the flesh betwixt their teeth they chew,
And sucke the fat so delicately sweet,
(With too much plenty that even fulsome grew
That lies so common troden with their feet.)
That God impartiall and so rightly just,
When he had given them more then they desire,
Dulie to punish their insatiate lust,
Powres downe his plagues consuming as his fire.
And with a strong hand violently strake
Their blood, distempred with luxurious diet,

409

That soone the sores in groynes and arme-pits brake,
Thus could the Lord scourge their rebellious riot.
Aron and Miriam, all too much it were
For griefe when Moyses ready is to die;
But you whom one wombe happily did beare
Gainst your milde Brother needs must mutinie.
O unkinde Aaron when thou fondly fram'dst
That Beast-like Idoll bowing Israels knee,
He then thee beg'd, that thou so basely blam'dst,
And did divert the judgement due to thee.
Immodest Miriam when the hand of might
Left thee with lothsome leprosie defil'd,
Contemn'd and abject in the vilest sight,
From the great host perpetually exil'd:
When thou hadst spet the utmost of thy spight,
And for thy sinne this plague on thee was throwne,
He not forsooke thee but in heavie plight
Kneeling to God obtain'd thee for his owne.
His wondrous patience ever was applide
To those on him that causelesly complaine,
Who did with comely carelesnesse deride
What happy men should evermore disdaine.

When now the Spials for the promis'd soyle,
For the twelve Tribes that twelve in number went,
Having discovered forty dayes with toyle,
Safely return'd as happily they went:
Bringing the Figs, Pomgranates, and the Grapes,
Whose verdurous clusters that with moisture swell,
Seeme by the taste and strangenesse of the shapes,
The place that bare them faithfully to tell.
That well express'd the nature of the earth,
So full of liquor and so wondrous great,
That from such wished fruitfulnesse in birth,
Suck'd the sweet marrow of a plenteous teat.
But whilst they stand attentively to heare
The sundry soyles wherein they late had beene,
Telling what Giants did inhabit there,
What Townes of warre that walled they had seene.

410

Of Anacks of-spring when they come to tell,
And their huge stature when they let them see,
And of their shapes so terrible and fell,
Which were suppos'd the Titanois to bee.
Their hearts sunck downe, and though the fruits they saw
By their rare beauty might allure their eyes,
Yet this report their coward soules did awe,
And so much daunt the forward enterprise,
That they their God doe utterly refuse,
Against just Moses openly exclame,
And were in hand a Captaine them to chuse
To guide them back to Goshen whence they came.
Not all the dread of the Egyptian dayes,
What by milde Moses he to passe had brought,
Nor seene by him done at the purple Seas,
On their vile minds a higher temper wrought.
Whom when of God he beg'd with bloody eyes,
And against Heaven did obstinatly strive,
Obtain'd so hardly their immunities,
Whose sinne seem'd greater then he could forgive.
Caleb and Josua you couragious men,
When bats and stones against your breasts were laid,
Oppose your selves against the other ten,
That expedition basely that disswade.

Quoth they to conquer as he did before
No more than men, what praise his puisance yeelds,
But he whose force the very Rocks did gore,
Can with the same hand cleave their brazen sheelds.
He that foresawe that this should be our seate,
And onely knew the goodnes of the same,
Possess'd the place with those that were so greate
For us to keepe it safely till we came.
For which the Lord did vowe that not a man
At Sina mustred where such numbers were,
Should live to come to fruitfull Canaan,
Onely those two so well themselves that beare.
And for the basenes of those recreant Spies
Whose melting minds this impious slaunder bred,

411

And the vile peoples incredulities,
In that their God so strongly promised.
For fortie dayes discovrie of the Land,
They fortie yeeres in wildernes shall wast,
Consum'd with plagues from his impetuous hand,
Untill that age be absolutely past.
Which scarsly spoke, but quickly tooke effect,
For those so colde, and cowardly before,
Hearing the censure of their base neglect,
To make his vengeance and their sinne the more.
Entring the Land which Moyses them denies,
Their desp'rate will no better can afford,
Offering those lives they did so lightly prize
Unto the vengance of the Heath'nish sword.
And in the host new factions daylie grewe,
When Chores, Dathan, and Abiram rise,
Two hundred men of speciall note that drew,
Whose strength gave power to their confed'racies.
But the vast earth incontinently clave,
And on the sodaine hurried them to hell
With the shrill screame the shrieking people gave,
The fainting Hoast into a feaver fell:
The rest of the Conspirators were left
(From the first's fall enforcing their retire,
Of all the succours of the host bereft)
Consum'd to ashes with Heavens violent fire:
And those th'abettors of this vile attempt
That did milde Moyses cruelly pursue,
From th'others sinne that could not be exempt,
Them with the dreadfull pestilence he slew.
That had not Aaron when all hope was fled
With holy Incense their atonement wrought,
Thrusting himselfe twixt th'living and the dead,
All had to ruine utterly beene brought.
Where fourteene thousand and seven hundred sanke
Under the burden of their odious sinne,
Which now was wax'd s'insufferably ranke,
It was high time his vengeance should begin.

412

When after this so terrible a thing,
Now that triumphant and miraculous wand,
Brings forth ripe Almonds, strongly witnessing
In Levies Tribe the Priesthood still to stand.
With leaves and blossomes bravely it doth flourish,
Some budding, some as instantly but blowne,
As when the same the naturall rynd did nourish,
For Moyses sake such Miracles were showne.
Forward to Cadesh they their journey cast,
Where the good Miriam makes her latest houre,
Miriam the faire, the excellent, the chast,
Miriam that was of womanhood the flowre,
Here bids her Brothers lovingly adue,
Who at her parting kisse her closing eyes,
Whose wondrous losse sufficiently to rue,
More is the griefe that teares cannot suffice.
Moyst are their eyes, their lips are shrunk with heat,
Their griefe within, as outward it appeares,
Their want of water in that place as great,
As it to them is plentifull of teares.
They at one instant mutinie and mourne,
Sorrowes creepe forth confusedly together,
The teares for her incontinent they turne
To words gainst Moyses that did guide them thither:
Who from the rocke strooke water with the wand,
That man and beast might plenteously maintaine,
But he from rocks that fountaines can command,
Cannot yet stay the fountaines of his braine.
Much woe for Miriam these good men did make,
Whilst there were two, that might bewaile this one,
But two departing for their mutuall sake,
Moyses remaines to mourne himselfe alone.
Aaron the ancient'st of the Hebrew line,
Repleate with naturall comelinesse and grace,
(God-like so farre as man might be divine)
Endeth his dayes in this predest'ned place.
Which being forewarned to awaite his end,
And here the fate foretelling him to die,

413

That the good houre doth onely now attend,
Will'd to ascend the mountaine (being nie.)
With Eleazer his deare Childe he goes,
Led by milde Moyses as the Lord decreed,
To his lov'd Sonne his garments to dispose,
Him in the Priesthood pointed to succeed.
When turning backe to bid them all adue,
Who look'd as fast to bid this Lord farewell,
Fountaines of late so fast from rockes ne'r flewe,
As the salt drops downe their sad bosomes fell.
Not the obdurat'st, not the stoniest hearts,
That in deepe sorrow melting here forbeares,
Those to whom Nature not those drops imparts,
Spent what in sighes, the other did in teares.
Sated with sobs, but hungry with his sight,
Their watry eyes him earnestly pursue,
When to discerne him they no longer might
Where their sight ends, their sorrowes doe renue.
Com'n to the top, to the appointed place,
His Sonne in all his ornaments invested,
Which the good Aaron meekely doth embrace,
And unto him his offices bequested.
When they the time no longer could adjourne,
After embraces and a floud of woes,
(Which when one ceas'd the other tooke his turne)
From eithers eyes that on the other flowes.
Now at the last point, at the gaspe of death,
He whom the whole world hath but such another,
Gives up his latest, his most blessed breath,
In the deare armes of his beloved Brother.
So wisely worketh that eternall Being
By the still changes of their varying state,
(As to the end through the beginning seeing)
To build the frame of unavoyded Fate.
When those given up to their lascivious wils,
Themselves in Midian wantonnesse that waste,
Whose fleshly knowledge sip'd those sugred ills,
Twenty foure thousand slaughtered at the last.

414

Of all those that in Sina numbred are,
I'th plaines of Moab mustered then againe,
Wasted by time, fire, pestilence, and warre,
Those promis'd two and Moyses did remaine.

The time expir'd that they for Aaron mourn'd,
New conquest now, new comfort them doth bring,
Their former hope successively return'd,
That seem'd before so sadly languishing.
When they the glorious victorie obtaine
The Plaines of Horma scattered all with shields,
Where Arad and his Cananites are slaine,
Not the least fight of many glorious fields.
With Sebon's slaughter seconded againe,
And Ogs great fall of a Giganticke strength,
Whose bed of iron fash'on'd to containe
In breadth foure Cubits, doubling it in length:
The living remnant of the mighty race,
Of big-bon'd Anack terrible and dred,
Which long time batning in that fertile place,
Grew like the fat soile wherein they were bred.
Not Poets fictions of the Phlægrian fields,
Whereas the Giants up to Heaven would clime,
Heaping on mountaines not such wonder yeelds,
As did the men that lived in that time.
And five proud Kings fell in their recreant flight,
Before arm'd Israel on the Midian plaine,
Zur, Hur, and Evi, men of wondrous might,
Reba and Rekem valiantly slaine.
And as his strength crush'd mighty Kings to dust,
And cleft the helmes that thunder proofe were thought,
That hand that help'd them, scourg'd their impious lust,
When his high judgement to pervert they sought.
And sent those Serpents (with their fiery stings,)
With inflammations that their flesh did swell,
Sharpely to scourge their trustlesse murmurings,
That still in infidelity did dwell.
Rare in this creature was his wondrous might,
That should effect the nature of the fire,

415

Yet to recure the sorance by the sight,
Sicknesse might seeme the remedie t'admire.
Onely by mettall miracles to worke,
That Serpents shape, the Serpents hurt should heale,
To shew in him the mysteries that lurke,
And being so strange, as strangely doth reveale.
That the forg'd figure of so vile a thing
Should the disease so presently remove,
Onely by th'eye a remedy to bring,
Deepe searching Magicke leaveth to approve,
As Balaams beast did Balacks hast delay,
And the full purpose of the Prophet brake,
When he beheld the Angell by the way,
Burst out from beast, and to his Master spake:
Whose execration able to astound
The sunne, when he his Sommers height did boast,
And with a word could instantly confound
The world, were it a congregated host.
He whose wise lips could Oracles compile,
And judgements irrevocable did passe,
Should be confounded by the thing most vile,
By that base creature, the dull worthlesse Asse,
Ruling his mouth as with a Riders bit,
Bidden by Balaack to denounce their fall:
Doth all his dreadfull Minaces acquit,
Sounding their blessing and their enemies fall.

When this milde man that onely did remaine,
Of those from Egipt that the Lord did bring,
Which he in Justice sundry wayes had slaine,
For their false worship and their murmuring.
Since he remisse at Meriba was prov'd,
And there his zeale not ardently exprest,
The Lord did sweare (though him he dearely lov'd)
He should not come to Canaan as the rest.
And now approaching Abaris (the place)
From whence he might that promis'd Country see,
(So much the Lord good Moyses pleas'd to grace)
But there his dayes must consummated be.

416

When this great Prophet zealously had bless'd,
Each sev'rall Tribe with a particular good,
Whose parting, them with sorrow so oppress'd,
That shedding teares, their eyes shed drops of blood.
To Nebo seated admirably hie,
(The Spirit prepares him safely to retire)
Which thrusts his head into the cloudie skie,
Pisga so proudly thither dare aspire.
Pisga the height of Abaris, and this
The height of Pisga over all doth stand,
That as the eye of mighty Abaris
Survayeth the imparallelled Land.
Where goodly Gilead unto him he showes
As farre as ever he could looke to Dan,
The length and breadth how every way it goes,
Till her brow kisse the calme Mediteran.
Where the sweet South layes forth her swelling brest,
With a pleas'd eye he silently survay'd,
To that faire Citie whose high Towers doe rest
Under the Palme trees most delicious shade.
When this meeke man approaching to his death,
In death ev'n pleas'd faire Canaan to behold,
Whilst he had use of his expiring breath,
Thus his last farewell mildly doth enfolde.
Israel (quoth he) deare Israel, now adue,
Moyses no more is, that your Leader was,
Josua and Caleb none but onely you,
Of the last age must over Jordan passe.
Th'Egyptian horrours yet 'twas I did see,
And through those strange calamities did wade,
And Israels charge imposed was on mee,
When they (but then) had scarcely learn'd to dade.
Forty two journeyes have I straitly past
Since first this glorious Pilgrimage begun,
In wrath or mercy where as first or last,
Some wondrous thing hath happily beene done.
M'immortall Maker that so oft have seene
(That God of wonder:) these complaints not boot,

417

In yonder fields so delicate and greene,
That may not set my miserable foot.
Thus leaning backe against the rising Clieve,
Raising his faint hands to the hopefull skies,
Meeke as the morning never seene to strive,
Great'st of the Prophets the good Moyses dies.
An hundred twenty hardly passed yeares,
His naturall vigour no whit did asswage,
His eye as bright, his body then appeares,
As in the height and Summer of his age.
Who being dissolv'd the Angels did interre
Neere to Bethpeor in the vallied ground,
But yet so secret kept his Sepulcher
That it by mortall never should be found.
Lest that his people (if the place were knowne)
(Seeing by him the miracles were done,
That ever to Idolatrie were prone,)
Unto his bones a worshipping should runne.
One that God grac'd so many sundry wayes,
No former age hath mentioned to bee,
Arived at the period of his dayes
The future time in Israel shall not see.