University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
The Historie of Ivdith in Forme of a Poeme

Penned in French, by the Noble Poet, G. Salust. Lord of Bartas. Englished by Tho. Hudson
  

collapse section 
  
  
  
collapse section 
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
 4. 
THE FOVRTH BOOKE OF Ivdith.
 5. 
 6. 


50

THE FOVRTH BOOKE OF Ivdith.

THE SOMMARIE OF THE IIII. BOOK.

According to the promis that Iudith made to the besieged Captaines in Bethulia, she prepareth her selfe with armour meete for the execution of her enterprise: to wit, The inuocation of the name of God, with a holy determinatiō to deliuer her countrey from the hand of the Tyrant: whome she deliberate to ouercome with the sweete and faire apparence of her amiable beutie and behauiour. At her departing to the enemies camp, our Poet introduceth one of the chiefe Captaines of the towne discriuing to another, her stock and vpbringing, with the progresse of her three estates, Virginitie, Mariage, and Widowhood: Thereby setting forth a singular example of all womanly behauiour and vertue. After her enterance to the Camp, she is brought to Holophernes, who was curious to know the cause of her comming there. And after audience giuen, he is so surprised with her beutie & eloquent language, that she obtaineth licence to withdrawe herself by night to the next valley, there to pray to God and continuing this exercise, she requireth strength of the Hyest, that in taking away the chieftaine, she might at one instant destroye all the Heathen Armie. Herein giuing example that the beginning and end of all high attempts, ought to be grounded vpon the fauour and earnest calling vpon him, without whome all wisedome, and humaine force is nothing but wind: and who contrariewise, may by the most feeble instrumēts of the world, execute things most incredible and incomprehensible to humaine capacitie.

Then wofull Iudith with her weeping ees
Beholding heavn & prostrate on her knees:
Held vp her guiltles hands and God besought,
Discovring him the secrets of her thought.
O God (quod she) who armed with a speare
Dan Symeon, who reuengde his sister deare:
Lend me the blade in hand, that I may kill
this Tyrant that exceedes all Sichems ill.

51

Who not contents to soile the sacred bed
of wedlocke chaste, but more with mischiefe led:
Entends thy holie name for to confound,
And race Solyma temple to the ground.
Ambitious Satrap he, whose hope doth stand
In mortall men, led with vnrighteous hand.
who rules a hundreth thousand stalworth steeds
that combat craues & in our pastures feeds.
Not dreading thee, who daūts both man & beast,
And kills & captiues them when they weene least.
who strēgths the pore & prydful mē down thrings
& wracks at once the powers of puissant kings.
Grant gratious God that his bewitched wit
May with my crisped haire be captiue knit.
Grant that my sweet regards may gall his hart
with darts of loue to cause his endles smart.
Grant that these gifts of thine my beutie small
may bind his furious rage, & make him thrall:
grant that my artificiall tong may moue
His subtill craft & snare his hart in loue:
But chiefly lord grant that this hand of mine
may be the Pagans scourge & whole ruine:
to th' end that all the world may know our race,
Are shrouded so in rampiers of thy grace.
that neuer none against vs durst conspire,
that haue not felt at last thy furious yre:
Euen so good Lord let none of these prophane
Returne to drinke of Euphrate nor Hytane.
Thus Iudith prayd with many-a trickling teare,
And with her sighs her words retrenched weare.

52

At night, she left her chamber sole and colde,
Attyrde with Ceres gifts and Ophir golde.
O siluer Diane, regent of the night,
Darst thou appeare before this lucent light?
This holy starre whose contr'aspect most clear,
Doth steine thy brothers brightnes in his Sphear?
While thus she ment (vnseene) away to slide,
Her pearles and Iewels causd her to be spide.
the musk and ciuet Amber as she past
Long after her a sweete perfume did cast.
A Carboncle on her Christall brow she pight,
whose firie gleames expeld the shadie night.
Vpon her head a siluer crisp shee pind,
Lose wauing on her shoulders with the wind.
Gold, band her golden haire: her yvrie neck,
the Rubies rich, and Saphirs blew did deck.
And at her eare, a Pearle of greater vallewe
ther hong, thē that th' Egiptiā Quene did swallew.
And through her collet shewde her snowie brest,
Her vtmost robe was coulour blew Cœlest,
Benetted all with twist of perfite golde,
Beseeming well her comely corps tenfolde.
VVhat els she weare, might well bene sene vpon,
that Queene who built the tours of Babylon.
And though that she most modest was indeede
yet borrowd she some garments at this neede.
From Dames of great estate, to that entent
this Pagan Prince she rather might preuent.
Achior then who watched at the gate,
And saw this Lady passing out so late,

53

To Carmis spak, who warded eke that night
what is she this? where goes this gallant wight
so trim in such a tyme: hath she no pittie
of this most wretched persecuted Cittie?
Quod Carmis then, their flourisht heare of late
Merari one, that was of great estate.
Who had no childe but one & this is she,
The honour of that house and familie.
The fathers now do venture bodie and soule,
that treasures vpon treasures they may roule:
But for the wit or learning neuer cairs,
that they should leaue to their succeeding hairs,
Like those that charely keepes their rich araye
In coffers close & lets it their decaye:
while that the naked bodies dyes for cold,
for whome the clothes are dearly bought & sold.

Comparison.

But as the painfull plowman plyes his toyle,

with share and culter shearing throug the soyle
that cost him deare, and ditches it about,
Or crops his hedge to make it vnder sprout,
And neuer stayes to warde it from the weede:
But most respects to sowe therin good seede:
to thend, whē sommer decks the medowes plaine,
He may haue recompence of costs & paine:
Or like the mayd who carefull is to keepe,
the budding flowre that first begins to peepe
Out of the knop, and waters it full oft
to make it see seemly show the head aloft,
that it may (when she drawes it from the stocks)
Adorne her gorget white, and golden locks:

54

So wise Merari all his studie stilde,
to facion well the maners of this childe,
that in his age he might of her retire,
Both honour & confort to his harts desire:
For looke how soone her childish toūg could chat
as children do, of this thing or of that.
He taught her not to reade inuentions vaine,
As fathers dayly do that are prophaine:
But in the holy scriptures made her reade,
that with her milke she might euē suck the dreade
of the most high. And this was not for nought
Insomuch as in short time she out brought
Apparant frutes of that so worthie seede,
which chaungde her earthly nature far indeede:
As done the pots that long retains the taste
Of licour such, as first was in them plaste:
Or like the tree that bends his eldren braunch,
that way, wher first the stroke has made him laūch.
So see we wolfs, and bears, and harts full olde,
Some tamenes from their daūted youth to holde.
Thus ere the Moone twelf dosen chaūges past,

Virginitie


the maydens maners faire in forme were cast.
For as the perfite pylot feares to runne
Vpon the rocks, with singling sheet doth shunne
Cyanes straites or Syrtes sinking sands,
Or cruell Capharois with stormy strands:
So wysely she dishaunted the resort
Of such as were suspect of light report.
Well knowing that th' acquaintance with the ill
Corrupts the good. And though they euer still

55

Remain vpright: yet some will quarrell pike
& common brute will deeme them all alike.
For looke how your Companions you elect
for good, or ill, so shall you be suspect.
This prudent Dame delyted not in daunce,
Nor sitting vp nor did her selfe aduaunce:
In publike place, where playes & banquets beene
In euerie house to see, & to be seene.
But rather vnderstanding such a trade,
Had bene the wrak of many-a modest mayd:
who following wandring Dina wanton dame,
Haue oftyme put their noble house to shame:
she kept at home her fathers habitation,
Both day and night in godly conuersation.
She pittious Nurse applyde her painfull thought,
to serue & nourish them that her vpbrought:
Like to the gratefull stork that gathereth meate,
& brings it to her elders for to eate,
And on a firtree high, with Boreas blowne,
Giues life to those, of whome she had her owne.
But if she might some howre from trauell quite
At vacant tyme it was her chiefe delyte
to read the scriptures, where her faithfull mind
Might confort of the heavnly Manna finde.
Sometyme she broyded on the canuas gall,
Some bird or beast, or Ægle or Eliphant tall.
VVhile subtely with siluer nedle fine
she works on cloth some historie deuine.
Hear Lot escaping the deuouring fire
From sinnefull Zodom shortly doth retire

56

To Segor, where his wife that was vnwittie
Cast back her eye to see the sinfull Cittie.
And for hir misbeliefe God plagued the falt,
transforming her into a Piller of salt:
Here she Susannes story viuely wrought,
How neare she was to execution brought,
And yet how God the secret did disclose,
And made the mischiefe fall vpon her foes
Here Iosephs storie stands with wondrous art,
And how he left his cloke & not his hart
to his lasciuious Dame & rather chose
the Prison, then her armes him to enclose.
Here cruell Iephte with his murdring knife.
to keepe his vow, bereaues his daughters life.
(Her trauell done) her lute she then assayes,
and vnto God she sings immortall prayes.
not folowing those that plyes their thriftles paine
In wanton vearse and wastefull ditties vaine,
Thereby t'entrapt great men with luring lookes
But as the greedy fisher layes his hookes
Alongst the coste to catch some mightie fish
More for his gaine, then holesome for the dish.
Of him that byes, euen so these sisters braue,
Haue louers mo, then honest maydens haue.
But none are brunt with their impudent flame,
Saue fooles & light lunatikes voyde of shame.
Of vertue only, perfite loue doth growe,
whose first beginning though it be more slow,
then that of lust and quicknes not so fast:
Yet sure it is, and longer tyme doth last.

57

The straw enkendles soone, & slakes againe:
But yron is slow, and long will hote remaine.
Thus was the holie Iudiths chaste renowne
so happly spred, through Izrell vp and downe,
that many-a man disdaind the damesels fine,
with Iewels rich and haire in golden twine,
to serue her beutie: yet loues firie dart,
Could neuer vnfriese the frost of her chast hart.
But as the Diamant byds the hāmer strong,
so she resisted all her suters long
Vnminded euer for to wed, but rather
to spend her dayes with her beloued father
till at the last her parents with great care,
withstood her will, and for her did prepare.
Manasses, one who was of noble race
Both rich and faire aswell of sprite as face:
Her mariage then was not a slight contract

Mariage.

Of secrete billes, but by willing act

‘before her frends: The chaunce that once befell
‘to wandring Dina may be witnesse well,
‘that secret mariage that to few is kend,
‘doth neuer leade the louers to good end.
For of our bodies we no power may clame
‘except our parents do confirme the same.
Then see how loue so holily begunne,
Betweene these two, so holy a race they runne,
this chaste young-man & his most chastest wife,
as if their bodies twaine had but one life.
what th' one did will, the other wild no lesse,
As by one mouth, their wils they do expresse:

58

And as a stroke giuen on the righter eye
Offends the left, euen so by Simpathie:
Her husbands dolours made her hart vnglad,
And Iudiths sorrowes made her husband sad.
Manasses then, his wife would not controule
tyraniously, but looke how much the soule
Exceeds the corse, & not the corse doth grieue,
But rather to preserue it and relieue,
So Iudith with Manasses did accorde,
In tender loue and honourde him as Lord.
Their house at home so holy was too tell
it seemd a church, and not a priuate Cell:
No seruant there, with villaine iestes vncouth,
was suffred to corrupt the shamefast youth.
No ydle drunkard, nor no swearing wight
Vnpunist durst blaspheme the lord of might.
No pleasant skoffer, nor no lying knaue:
No daylie Dyce, nor no Ruffian braue,
Had there abode: but all the seruants weare
taught of their Rulers Gods eternall feare.
Manasses, he who saw that in his tyme
All iustice was corrupt with many-a cryme,
And that the most peruers and ignorant,
For money, or fauour, would none office want
of high estate, refusde all publike charge:
Contenting him with ease to liue at large.
from court, and pallace, free from wordly pelf,
but since he thought him borne not for himself:
But also that some charge he ought to beare
for confort of his friends & countrey deare:

59

Yet did he more, not being magistrate,
for publike weale, then men of more estate.
So that his house, was euen the dwelling due
Of Iustice, and his mouth a sentence true.
Th' afflicted poore he dayly did defend,
and was the widowes ayde & tutor kend,
to Orphelines, and was the whole support
And chiefe conforter of the godly sorte.
The vaine desire of Indian treasurs great,
Made neuer his ship to saile nor oare to beat.
The greedy hope of gaine with ventruous dāger,
Made neuer his sword be drawn to serue the strāger.
He neuer sold within the wrangling Barre,
Deceitfull clatters, causing clients Iarre.
But quietly manurde his litle feilde,
And took th' encrease therof that tyme did yeilde,
He sowde, and planted, in his proper grange
(vpon some sauage stock) some frutrie strange.
The ground our common Dame, he vndermines
On stake & ryce, he knits the crooked vines,
and snoddes their bowes, so neither hote nor cold
might him (from labour) in his chamber holde.
But once as he beheld his haruest traine,
with crooked Cickle cutting downe the graine
the sunne a distillation on him sent,
whereof he dyed, his soule to heauen it went.
He that the nomber of the leaues could cast,
that in Nouember fals by winter blast,
He that could tell the drops of raine or slete,
that Hyad Orion or Pleiades wete

60

sheds on the ground, that man might only tell,

Widow-head.


what teares from Iudiths eyes incessant fell.
VVhat treasur-and golde & what he left her tho,
In place of pleasure, caused all her woe.
The sight of them made her in hart recorde,
their olde possessor, and her louing Lord.
Though she had had asmuch of gold and good,
As Lydia land, or Tagus golden flood:
(yet losing him) of treasure she was bare:
For whome, all other treasures causde her care.
Yet in this state she stoutly did sustaine,
Like patient Iob (contempning) all her paine.
Three times the sunne returned had his prime,
‘Since this befell, and yet the slyding tyme
‘That wonted is to weare all woes awaye,
Could neuer for his death her dolour staye:
But alwayes in some black attyre she went
Right modestly & liu'd on litle rent.
Deuout she was & most tymes sole and sad
with dole in hart & mourning vesture clad,
Outshedding teares as doth the turtle doue
on withred stalke that waills her absent loue:
And widow like all pleasure doth forsake
And neuer intends to take a secound make.
Thus Iudith chast within her house abode,
And seldome was she sene to come abrode,
Vnlesse it weare to see some wofull wife,
whose childe or husband was bereft of life,
Or for to visit some in sicknesse rage,
their longsome paine and dollours to asswage:

61

Or for to go to Church as God allowes
to pray and offer, & to performe her vowes.
Thus haue I shortly told you brother deare,
the state of her, on whome our citie heare
haue fixed all their eyes: but I can nought
tell wher she goes, much les whats in her thought.
But if we may of passed things collect
the things to come: then may we well aspect
Great good of her, for that euen in her face
Is signe of ioy, and great presage of grace.
Or some good hap. With this and other talke
they cut the night as they together walke.
This while the worthie widow with her mayd
Past towards th' enmies camp not vnafrayde:
For ere she had two hundreth paces past,
The Syrian Soldiers in her way were cast:
VVho spack her thus. O faire excellent wight
whence? what art thou? what doest thou here this night
In Syrian camp? I am (quod she) againe
An Izralite whome dollours doth constraine,
To flee this towne, and for my lifes relief,
submits me to the mercie of your chiefe.
They tooke her to the Duke, but who hath sene
the throngs of folke where proclamations bene
In sōe great town, or where some mōstrous beast
Is brought & wondred at by most & least,
that mā might Iudge what flocks of soldiers came
From euerie part to see that Hebrew Dame,
To see that faire, so chast, so amiable:
the more they gasde, she seemd more admirable.

62

Her wavring haire disparpling flew apart
In seemely shed, the rest with reckles art
with many-a curling ring decord her face,
and gaue her glashie browes a greater grace.
Two bending bowes of Heben coupled right,
two lucent starres that were of heavnly light.
two geaty sparks where Cupid chastly hydes.
His subtill shafts that from his quiuer glydes.
Tweene these two sunnes and front of equall sise,
A comely figure formally did ryse
VVith draught vnleuell to her lip descend
where Momus self could nothing discomend.
Her pitted cheekes aperde to be depaint,
with mixed rose & lillies sweete and saint:
Her dulcet mouth with precious breath repleate
Excelde the Saben Queene in sauour sweete.
Her Corall lips discovred as it were
two ranks of Orient pearle with smyling chere.
Her yvrie neck and brest of Alabastre,
Made Heathen men of her, more Idolastre.
Vpon her hand no wrinkled knot was seene,
But as each nail of mother of pearle had beene.
In short this Iudith was so passing faire,
that if the learned Zeuxis had bene thaire,
And seene this Dame, when he with pensile drew,
the Croton Dames, to forme the picture trew
Of her, for whome both Grece and Asia fought:

Helen.


this onely patron chief he would haue sought.
No sooner Iudith entred his Pauillion,
But in her face arose the red vermillion

63

with shamefast feare: but then with lāguage sweet
The courteous Genrall mildly gan her greet.
My loue, I am, I am not yet so fell,
As fals reporte doth to you Hebrews tell.
They are my sonnes & I wilbe their father
that honours me: and them I loue the rather,
that worships for their God th' Assyrian King:
They shalbe well assurde to want nothing.
And this shall Izak know if they will render
Vnto that bonteous king as their defender.
For thy (my loue) tell me withouten feare,
the happie motyf of thy comming heare.
O Prince (quoth she with an assured face)
Most strong and wise & most in heauens grace,
that drawes the sword, with steele vpon his brest
with helme on head, and launce in yron rest:
Since that my feeble Sex and tender youth,
Cannot longtime endure, the cruell drouth,
the wakrife trauels, frayes and haszards great,
That day and night, our Burgesses doth threat:
Yet neuerthelesse this is not whole the cause
that from my Citties body me withdrawes
to this your Camp: but that most grudging griefe,
Which burnes my zealous hart without reliefe:
Is this (my Lord) I haue a holy feare
to eate those meates that God bids vs forbeares
But Sir, I see that our besieged towne,
Is so beset with mischiefe vp and downe.
The people wilbe forst to eate in th' end
the meats that God expresly doth defend:

64

Then will the lord with iust reuēge him wreak
Vpon all those, that do his statutes break.
Withouten fight their Citties he will sack,
And make one man of thine ten thousand wrack,
that flyes his furie, and thy furious face,
Nowe I of Bethull am, and in this place
Beseech thy noble grace if so thee please,
with courteous ayde, to giue my dolours ease.
‘Of common sence he is depriued cleene,
‘that falls with closed eye on danger seene.
‘And he that may both paine and hurt eschewe,
‘Is vaine if he his proper death pursewe,
Then in this quiet dale if I may byde
(in secret) for to pray ech evning tyde
to God: I shall as he doth me enspyre,
Assure you when enkendled is his yre,
Against our folke. Then shall I take on hand,
to leade thine Armie through all Iurie land,
And streaming standarts set on Syon hill,
where none with weapons dare resist thy will.
No, not a verie dog in euening dark,
At noyse of harnes shall against thee bark.
Thy onely name shall fray the Armies bold,
Before thy face the mountaine tops shall fold.
The floods shall drye & from their running stay,
To make thine Hoste, a new & vncouth way.
O Iewell of the world (quoth he) ô Dame,
For gratious spech and beutie worthie fame,
Now welcōe here, would God it might you please
Longtime with vs to dwell in rest and case,

65

For if your faith and trouth concurrant be,
to this your talke, which greatly pleaseth me:
I will from this time forth with you accord,
to serue your onely Hebrewes God & Lord,
And will my seruice whole to you enrowle:
Not of my Scepter onely, but my soule.
I will your name and honour ay defend
From Hebrew bounds vnto the world his end.
This sayd: with silence as the moone arose,
The widow her withdrew, and forth she goes
Vnto a valley close on euerie part,
where as she washt her corse & clenst her harte:
And with her weeping eyes the place beraid,
And to the God of Izak thus she praide.
O Lord withdraw not now thy helping hand
from those, that at thy mercie onely stand.
O Lord defend them that desires to spend
their goods and blood, thy cause for to defend.
O Lord grant that the cryes of Children may
with plaints of oldmen weeping night and day.
And virgins voyces sad in shroude of shame
And laudes of Leuits sounding forth thy fame.
Mount to thy throne, and with dissundring breake
thy heauie sleepe. VVherefore doest thou awreake
thy self on Hermon with thy burning blast?
or why? doest thou on carefull Carmell cast
Thy dreadfull darts? forgetting all this space,
these Giants that thy Scepter would displace?
Ah wretch what say I? lord apardon me,
thy burning zeale (and none hypocrisie)

66

that frets my heauie hart at euerie howre
Compels my toung rhis language out to powre.
O thou, the euerliuing God, and Guide
of all our race, I know thou wilt prouide
For our reliefe against this furious boste,
And iustly kill the Captaine of this hoste.
I know, that thou wilt help my onely hand,
to be the wrak, of all this heathen band.
FINIS.