University of Virginia Library

TO THE AUTHOR.

[Christ's Passion.]

[A Tragedie.]

THE FIRST ACT.

THE PERSONS.

• Jesus.
• Chorus Of Jewish Women.
• Peter.
• Pontius Pilate.
• Caiaphas.
• Judas.
• The Jews.
• First Nuncius.
• Second Nuncius.
• Chorus Of Romane Souldiers.
• Joseph Of Arimathea.
• Nicodemus.
• John.
• Mary The Mother Of Jesus.

Jesvs.
O thou who govern'st what thou didst create
With equall sway, great Arbiter of Fate,
The Worlds Almighty Father; I, thy Son,
Though born in Time, before his Course begun;
Thus far my Deeds have answered thy Commands:
If more remain, my Zeale prepared stands
To execute thy Charge: all that I feare,
All that I hate, I shall with patience beare;
No misery refuse, no toile, nor shame:
I know for this into the world I came.
And yet how long shall these extreames indure!
What Day or Night have known my life secure!
My burthen, by induring, heavier grows;
And present ills a way to worse disclose.
My Kingdome, Heaven, I left, to visit Earth;
And suffer'd banishment before my Birth.
An unknown Infant, in a stable born,
Lodg'd in a manger: little, poore, forlorn,
And miserable: though so vile a Thing,
Yet worthy of the envy of a King.
Two yeers scarce yet compleat, too old was thought
By Herods fears: while I alone was sought,
The bloudy Sword Ephratian Dames deprives
Of their dear Babes; through wounds they exhal'd their lives.
Secur'd by flying to a forreign Clime,
The Tyrant through his Error lost his Crime.
A Thousand Miracles have made me known
Through all the World, and my extraction shown.
Envy against me raves: yet Vertue hath
More storms of Mischiefe rais'd, then Herods wrath.
Is it decreed by thy unchanging Will,
I should be acknowledg'd, and rejected still?
Th'inspired Magi from the Orient came,
Prefer'd my Starre before their Mithra's flame,
And at my infant feet devoutly fell:
But Abrahams Seed, the House of Israel,
To thee sequestred from Eternity,
Degenerate and ingrate! their God deny.
Behold the contumacious Pharisies,
Arm'd with dissembled Zeale, against me rise
The bloody Priests to their stern Party draw
The Doctors of their unobserved law:
And impious Saduces, to perpetrate
My intended Overthrow incense the State.
What rests to quicken Faith? Even at my Nod
Nature submits, acknowledging her God.
The Galilean Youth drink the pure bloud
Of generous Grapes, drawn from the Neighbor floud:
I others famin cur'd, subdu'd my own;
Life-strengthning food for fourty dayes unknown.
Twixt the Dispensers hands th'admired Bread
Increas'd, great multitudes of People fed,
Yet more then all remain'd. The Winds asswage
Their stormes; & threatning Billows calme their rage.
The hardned Waves unsinking feet indure:
And pale Diseases which despise their cure,
My Voice subdues. Long Darknesse chac'd away,
To me the Blind by Birth now owes his Day.
He hears who never yet was heard; now speaks,
And in my Praises first his silence breaks.
Those damned Spirits of infernall Night,
Rebels to God, and to the Sonnes of Light
Inveterate foes; my Voice but heard, forsake
The long possest, and struck with terror quake.
Nor was't enough for Christ, such wonders done,
To profit those alone who see the Sunne:
To vanquish Death my powerfull hand invades
His silent Regions and inferior Shades.
The Starres, the Earth, the Seas, my triumphs know:
What rests to conquer but the Deeps below?
Through op'ning Sepulchers, Nights gloomy Caves,
The violated priviledge of Graves,
I sent my dread Commands: A heat new born:
Reanimates the Dead, from funerals torn;
And Deaths numb Cold expulst, inforc'd a way
For Soules departed to review the Day.
The Ashes from their ransackt Tombs receive
A second life, and by my bounty breathe.
But Death, his late free Empire thus restrain'd,
Not used to restore his Spoyles, complain'd
That I should thus unweave the web of Fate,
Decrease his Subjects, and subvert his State:
I, for so many ransomed from Death,
Must to his anger sacrifice my breath.
And now that horrid Houre is almost come,
When sinfull Mortalls shall their Maker doom:
When I, the worlds great Lord, who life on all
Mankinde bestow'd, must by their fury fall.
That Tragick Time to my last Period hasts;
And Night, who now on all her Shadows casts,
While with the motion of the Heavens she flies,
This short delay of my sad life envies.
Fate, be lesse sterne in thy intended Course;
Nor drag him who will follow without force.
After so many miseries indur'd;
Cold, Heat, Thirst, Famine, eyes to teares inur'd;
The end, yet worst of ills, draws neare: their breath,
For whom I suffer, must procure my death.
The Innocent, made guilty by the foule
Defects of others, must his weary Soule
Sigh into aire; and though of heavenly birth,
With his chaste bloud distain th'ungratefull Earth.
They traffick for my Soule: my death, long sought,
Is by the mitred Merchants faction bought;
And Treason findes reward. My travels draw
Neare their last end. These practices I saw;
See what this Nights confederate Shadows hide:
My Minde before my Body crucifi'd.
Horrour shakes all my Powers: my entrailes beat,
And all my Body flowes with purple sweat.
O whither is my ancient Courage fled,
And God-like Strength! by Anguish captive led.
O Death, how farre more cruell in thy kinde!
Th'anxiety and torment of the Minde!
Then must I be of all at once bereft?
Or is there any hope of safety left?
O might I to my heavenly Father pray,
So supple to my teares, to take away
Part of these ills! But his eternall Doome
Forbids, and ordered Course of things to come.
His purpose, fixt when yet the world was young,
And Oracles, so oft by Prophets sung,
Now rushing on their destinated end,
No Orisons, nor Sacrifice can bend.
Why stay I with triumphant feet to tread
Vpon th'infernall Serpents poysnous Head,
And break th'old Dragons jaws? The sin of our
First Parents must be cleansed with a showre
Of bloud, rain'd from my wounds: my death appease,
And cure the venome of that dire Disease.
All you who live, rejoyce; all you who die:
You sacred ashes of the just which lie
In peacefull Vrnes, rejoyce in this my fall:
I for the living liv'd, but die for all.
My sufferings are not lost. To Earth I owe
These promis'd ills: bonds, whips, and thorns to grow
About our bleeding brows; the Crosse, the scorne
Of a proud People, to destruction borne.
O let my Fathers wrath through singed aire
On me in thunder dart, so mine it spare.
Lest the World should, I perish; and must beare
The punishments of all that ever were.
You who inhabit where the Sunne displaies
His early light, or neer his setting Raies;
Who suffer by his perpendicular
Aspect, or frieze beneath the Northerne starre;
Affect this ready Sacrifice, who am
A greater Offering then the Paschal Lamb.
My precious bloud alone the vertue hath
To purge your sins, and quench my Fathers wrath.
Now the full Moone succeeds that Vernal Light
Which equally divides the Day and Night;
Sacred to Feasts. The next Sunne shall survay
One brighter then himselfe, and loose his Day.
False Traitor, through thy guilt so timerous growne,
Although thou leadst an army against One,
Shrouded in Night; I am not taken by
Thy guile, but know thy fraud, and hast to die.
But you my chosen friends, who yet preserve
Your faith intire, nor from your duty swerve;
Your festivall, our washings past, reherse
Your Makers excellence in sacred Verse;
While I to those frequented Shades repaire
Where the trees answer to the sighing Aire.
Learne, as we walk along, unto what place
I shortly shall returne; what heavenly Grace
Is to descend upon you from above;
What are the laws of Charity and Love.
While my last praiers solicit Heaven, to Sleep
Give no accesse: this Night my Vigil keep.

CHORVS OF JEWISH WOMEN.
The rapid Motion of the Spheres
Old Night from our Horizon beares;
And now declining Shades give way
To the returne of chearefull Day.
But Phosphorus, who leads the Starres,
And Day's illustrious Path prepares,
Who last of all the Hoast retires,
Not yet with-draws those radiant Fires:
Nor have our Trumpets summoned
The Morning from her dewy Bed:
As yet her Roses are unblown,
Nor by her purple Mantle known.
All night we in the Temple keep,
Not yeelding to the charmes of Sleep;
That so we might with zealous praier
Our thoughts and cleansed hearts prepare
To celebrate th'insuing Light,
When Phœbe shall her hornes unite.
This annuall Feast to Memory
Is sacred, nor with us must die:
Thus by that dreadfull Exul taught,
When God his plagues on Ægypt brought.
Those Cities these our Rites bereave
Of Citizens, and widdows leave,
Where Jordan from two bubling Heads
His oft-returning waters leads;
Till they their narrow bounds forsake,
And grow a Sea-resembling Lake.
Those Woods of Palme, producing Dates;
Of fragrant Balsamum, which hates
The touch of Steele; where once the sound
Of trumpets level'd with the ground
Vnbatter'd Wals; that Mount which shrouds
His aiëry head in hanging Clouds,
Where Death clos'd our lost Prophets eies;
Admire to see their Colonies
Ascend the hills of Solyma
In celebration of this Day.
Cephæans, whose strong Wals with-stood
The ruines of the Generall Flood,
To solemnize this Day forsake
Ador'd Dercetis, and her Lake.
Hither the Palestines from strong
Azotus, both the Jamnes throng.
Not Lydda could her Own restraine;
Nor Caparorsa's wals containe
Her Edomites; Damascus could
Not hers, though she ten Nations ruld:
Nor yet Sabaste, long the Nurse
Of impious Sons, sprung from our Surse.
Phœnicians, who did first produce
To Mortals letters, with their use;
Where Tyrus full of Luxury
With Mother Sidon, front the Sky,
Hither with hasty zeale repaire:
Among the Syrians, those who dare
Feed on forbidden fish; nor more
The Deitie of a Dove adore.
From Belus, whose flow waters passe
On glittering sands, which turn to glasse:
From Arnons banks; those Borderars
The subject of our ancient warres:
Whose sulphurous Bitumen take
From salt Asphaltis deadly lake.
No Tempest on that Sea prevailes;
No ship upon her bosome sailes;
Vnmov'd with oares: what over-flies,
Struck by her breath, falls down and dies:
Hates all that lives; in her Profound
None are receiv'd, but flote undrownd:
No Seas, by slymie shores imbras't,
So pestilent a vapor cast:
This blasts the corne before it bears,
And poysons the declining Ears:
Sad Autumns fruits to cinders turn,
And all the fields in ashes mourn:
Lest Time should wast the memory
Of those revengefull flames, the sky
On Earth in melting sulphur showr'd,
Which that accursed Race devour'd:
When she who did commiserate
With impious griefe her Cities fate,
Grew, in the moment of her fault,
A Statue of congealed Salt.
Hither devout Esseans fly,
Who without issue multiply,
And Virtue onely propagate:
All sensuall loves, all lucre hate,
And equall Povertie imbrace:
Thrice happy, of a noble Race,
Who slight your own particular,
Transported with a publique care.
He flies a pitch above our woes,
Or crimes, who gladly undergoes
Their toile and want; nor would possesse
What others miscall Happinesse.
What numbers from the Suns up-rise,
From where he leaves the mourning Skies,
Of our dispersed Abrahamites,
This Vesper to their Homes invites!
Yet we, in yeerly triumph, still
A Lamb for our deliverance kill.
Since Libertie our Confines fled,
Given with the first unleaven'd Bread,
She never would return; though bought
With wounds, and in destruction sought.
Some stray to Lybia's scorched Sands,
Where horned Hammons Temple stands:
To Nilus some, where Philips Son,
VVho all the rifled Orient won,
Built his proud City: others gon
To their old Prison, Babylon:
A part to freezing Taurus fled;
And Tiber, now the Oceans Head.
Our Ruines all the world have fill'd:
But you, by use in sufferings skill'd,
Forgetting in remoter Climes
Our vanisht Glory; nor those Times,
Those happy Times, compare with these,
Your burdens may support with ease.
More justly we of Fate complaine,
VVho Servitude at home sustaine:
VVe, to perpetuall woes design'd,
In our owne Countrey Ægypt find.

THE SECOND ACT.

PETER.
You Of-spring of bloud-thirsty Romulus,
Foes to sweet Peace, to our great God, and us,
And you prophaner Sacrificers, who
VVith subtil mischiefe guiltlesse bloud pursue;
Since you would not refuse to binde the hands
Of Innocence, on me impose your bands:
Seize on the guilty; he who hath refus'd
His Lord and Master, by himselfe accus'd.
The ills yet suffer'd, I deserve to beare
For looking on; what follows, for my feare.
You need no torches to subdue the Night's
Dark Shades to finde me; no sterne Satellites
Drawn from the Temple, nor with Romanes joyne
To act one Sin; nor spend your sacred Coine
In salary to such a Guide as may
VVith a perfidious kisse his Lord betray.
This Head I give you freely; hither hast:
No sudden hurl-windes shall your bodies cast
On trembling Earth. Behold; I with my hands
Behinde me bound, implore your dire Commands;
And run to meet your stripes. Are you now prone
To melting pitty? will you punish none
But with injustice? is your fury slow,
Vnlesse to those who no offences know?
We both alike have impiously transgrest:
You in not punishing a fault confest;
And I who have the living Lord deni'd.
Just Judges, of a life so sanctifi'd
To whom suborned Witnesses have sold
Their damned perjuries, a Wretch behold,
And heare his Crime: My Countrey Galile,
To follow Christ I left both Land and Sea:
Son to the Thunderer, his onely Heire;
From Heaven sent by his Father to repaire
And rule th'affairs of Mortals. This is He,
Whom you have bound, who must his Countrey free.
Rebellious Vassals, you have doom'd your King.
I know the impious Race from whence you spring,
Your savage manners, cruel Ancestors,
Whom Nature, as her greatest curse, abhors.
Such, when the trembling Boy his brethrens hands,
Their truculent aspects, and servill bands
Beheld; though privy to a better fate,
Whose providence was to reward their hate:
Soon after, cal'd to Niles seven chanel'd Flood,
He famin from both Lands expel'd with food.
So your seditious Fathers mutined
At Sina's rocks against their sacred Head:
And there the food of Angels loth'd, which fell
From Heaven in showres: besotted Israel
Ægypt and Servitude prefer'd above
The Tents of Moses, and their Countries love.
What numbers, with prophetick Raptures fill'd,
Have you, and yet not unrevenged, kill'd.
Memphis, devouring Deserts, Civill wars,
Oft forreign Yokes, Assyrian Conquerars,
Great Pompeys Eagles, sacred Rites profan'd,
Your Temple sackt, with slaughtered Levites stain'd;
Are all forgot? Yet worse attend your Hate.
O that I were the Minister of Fate!
I then would teare your guilty buildings down,
And in a crimson Sea their ruines drown.
Witnesse you Groves, late conscious of our cares,
Where Christ with tears pour'd forth his funeral praiers,
How I revenge pursu'd; and with their bloud
Would have augmented Cedrons murmuring Floud:
But he, for whom I struck, reproov'd the blow;
And following his own Precept, cur'd his foe.
For, Malchus, rushing on in front of all,
Perceiving part of his, with-out him, fall,
Searcht with his flaming brand: the bleeding eare
Seene on the earth, revenge subdu'd his feare;
Who lowdly roaring shook his threatned bands,
And streight incountred those all healing hands.
They to his Head that Ornament restor'd,
And benefits for injuries affor'd.
But O blinde Mischief! I, who gave the Wound,
Am left at large; and he, who heal'd it, bound.
O Peter, canst thou yet forbeare to throw
Thy body on the weapons of the Foe!
If thou would'st vindicate thy Lord, begin
First with thy selfe, and punish thy own Sin.
Thou that dar'st menace armies, thou that art
Fierce, as a Midian Tyger, of a heart
Invincible, nor knows what 'tis to dread;
VVith Fortune, at the first incounter, fled.
A Fugitive, a Rebel; one that hath
All crimes committed in this breach of faith.
VVho towring hopes on his own strength erects,
Nor the selfe-flattering Mindes deceit suspects,
But his vaine Vertue trust; let him in me
The sad example of his frailty see:
From slippery heights how pronely Mortals slide;
Their heady errors punishing their pride.
VVhat can I adde to these misdeeds of mine!
VVho have defil'd the water, bread, and wine,
VVith my abhor'd defection! O, could I
Those lips pollute with wilfull perjury,
But newly feasted with that sacred food,
Presenting his torne flesh, and powr'd-out blood!
O Piety! for this, thou Renegate,
Did Jesus wash thy flying feet of late!
Not Jordan with two Heads, whose waters roule
From snow-top Libanus, can cleanse thy Soule:
Not thou Callirhoë; nor that ample Lake,
From whose forsaken shore my birth I take.
Could'st thou blue Nereus, in whose troubled Deep
Niles seven large Mouthes their foming currents steep?
Or that red Sea, whose waves in Rampires stood
While our Fore-fathers past the parted Flood?
These purging streames from thy own Springs must flow.
Repentance, why are thy complaints so slow!
Raise stormes of sighes; let teares in torrents fall,
And on thy blushing cheekes deep furrows gall.
O so! run freely: beat thy stubborn breast:
Here spend thy rage; these blowes become thee best.
This, wretched Cephas, for thy crimes I owe:
What can I for my injur'd Lord bestow!
My deeds and sufferings disproportion'd are;
Nor must they in an equall sorrow share.
Should this Night ever last, to propagate
Increasing sorrowes, till subdu'd by Fate,
My penitent Soule this wasted flesh forsake;
Yet can my guilt no reparation make.
Swoln eyes, now weep you? then you should have wept
Besprinkled my devotion, and have kept
That holy Watch, when interdicted Sleep
Your drowsie lids did in his Lethe steep.
You should have dropt my brains into a Flood,
Before he at that dire Tribunall stood:
Ere thrice abjur'd, on me his looks he threw;
Or ere th'accusing Bird of Dawning crew.
Where shall I hide me! in what Dungeon may
My troubled Soul avoid the wofull Day!
Fly quickly to some melancholy Cave,
In whose dark entrails thou maist finde a grave
To bury thee alive: there waste thy yeares
In chearisht Sorrow, and unwitnest Tears.

PONTIVS PILAT. CAIAPHAS.
[PILAT.]
Tarpæan Jove; Mars, great Quirinus Sire;
You Houshold gods, snatcht from Troys funerall Fire,
With greater Zeal ador'd; when shall I pay
My Vows! my Offerings on your Altars lay!
And see those Roofs which top the Clouds! the Beams
With burnisht gold inchac'd, and blazing Gems.
Those Theaters; which ring with their applause
Who on the conquered World impose their Lawes!
And thee, the triple Earths imperious Guide,
Great-Soul'd Tiberius! whether thou reside
On Tibers banks, ador'd by gratefull Rome;
Ambitious of his residence, for whom
She gave the World; or Capræ, much renown'd
For soft delights, impoverish the Long-gown'd!
Farre from my friends, farre from my native Soyl
I here in honourable Exile toyl,
To curb a People whom the Gods disclaim:
Who cover under the unsurped Name
Of Piety, their hate to all Man-kinde;
Condemne the world; in their own vices blinde:
And with false grounded fear abjure for One,
All those Immortalls which the Heavens inthrone.
Their onely Law is to renounce all Laws:
Their Error, which from others hatred draws,
Fomenting their own discord, still provokes
Their Spirits to Rebellion, who their yokes
Have oft attempted to shake-off; though they
More eas'ly are subdu'd, then taught to obey.
Cleare Justice, sincere Faith, bear witnesse you
With how much grief our swords the Hebrews slew:
But such as stubborn and inhumane are,
Vnlesse they suffer, would inforce a War:
And Reason urgeth those who Scepters bear,
Against their Nature, oft to prove severe.
I go to question what these Prelates would:
Since they forbear to enter, lest they should
(Their Feast so neare) with my unhallowed Floore
Their feet pollute. Who's this, by such a power
In shackles led! How reverend his aspect!
How full of awe! these Looks no guilt detect.
Thou, Caiaphas, of Solyma the Prime,
And Prince of Priests, relate th'imputed Crime.

CAIAPHAS.
Great Guardian of the Romane Peace, whom we
Next Cæsar honour; to be doom'd by thee
Our Senate brings th'Infection of these Times:
Whom we accuse of no suggested crimes.
Those holy Rites which grave Antiquity
First introduced, since defended by
A long descent, this Innovator sought
To abolish, and a new Religion taught.
Nor fearing the Recesse of Gods own Seat,
The Temples ruine sings, and Roof repleat
With the full Deitie: disturbs the Feast
Of the seventh Day, design'd for sacred Rest.
Those lawes rejects which Moses pen reveal'd,
Even those by God with dreadfull thunder seal'd.
Nor so content; with Heaven his furie warres,
Aspires that Throne, and tramples on the Starres.
Who stiles himself, though of ignoble birth,
His onely sonne, who made both Heaven and Earth.
This, Death must expiate; he hath judg'd his Cause,
Who writ in leaves of Marble our ten Lawes.

PILAT.
When Wrath, the Nurse of War, and thirst of gold
Destructive Arts produc'd; the better Soul'd
No peace nor safety found, inforc't to bear:
Life, of it self infirme, through common fear
Into Societies the scattered drew,
Who by united forces potent grew:
Intrenched Cities with high walls immur'd;
But more by well-digested Lawes secur'd:
The Crime and Punishment proportion kept;
And Wrongs, like Wolves, on their first Authors leapt:
Justice from each Offence example took;
And his own weapon the Delinquent strook:
Spoil seaz'd on Rapine, Bloud drew bloud; deter'd
From doing that, which they to suffer fear'd.
But more then humane plagues attend on those
Who God provoke: he prosecutes his foes
With sure revenge. Why should those Hands which tear
The clouds with thunder, shake the World with fear;
Their wrath to Man resigne? The impious finde
Their scourge: the terror of th'astonish'd Minde
Affrights their peace: who feel what they deny;
And fear an unbeleeved Deity.
One Day no period to his torment gives:
To tremble at the Name of Death he lives;
Still apprehending what then death is worse;
Long life awarded to prolong his curse.
But if he have your laws infring'd, be you
Your selves the judges, and his guilt pursue.

CAIAPHAS.
Although those ancient Laws, which now remain
Among us, we acknowledge to retain
From Romes free bounty; yet to you 'tis knowne,
Our curbed Power can death inflict on none.
You, to whom Cæsars Fortunes recommend
His Rods and Axes, sacred Rule defend.
This guilty Wretch, whose practises we feare,
Of late his place of birth forsaking, where
The Sea is honour'd with Tiberius Name,
With troopes of Clients to this City came.
Who seeds of War among the Vulgar sowes:
With what injustice Romane Armes impose
Their Tribute on a Nation ever free.
With magick Charmes, and Stygian compact, he
Attracts beliefe: denies the dead their rest,
Of those un-envi'd Mansions dispossest
By wicked Spels. These prodigies delude
The novelty-affecting Multitude:
Whom for their Lord their loud Hosannas greet;
And strew the noble Palme beneath his feet.
Imboldned by these Arts; He, as his own
By birth, aspires to Davids ancient Throne.
When Rome, provok'd by his rebellion, shall
Arme her just Griefe; we by the sword must fall,
Our City sinke in flames, our Countrey lye
Depopulated. But since One must dye
To save the Generall; sentenc'd by thy breath,
Let him redeeme his Nation with his death.

PILAT.
Such doubtfull causes grave advice require:
Here, if you please, attend; while I retire.
The Pris'ner to the Souldiers care commit:
On whom this day we will in judgement sit.

CHORVS OF JEWISH WOMEN.
You lofty towers of Solyma,
Thou ancient Throne of Soveraign sway:
To thee the conquered Tribute pay'd,
From th'Isthmos, crown'd with Ebon shade,
To great Euphrates trembling Streames:
Arabians, scorch'd by Phœbus beames.
Th'admiring Queen, wing'd with thy Fame,
From her black-peopled Empire came.
Great Kings, ambitious of thy love,
To joyne with thee in friendship strove.
Those who Canopus Scepter bore;
Those Monarchs who the Sun adore,
And o're the wealthy Orient reigne:
Sarrana, Soveraigne of the Main.
Now, ah! a miserable Thrall!
O, nothing, but a prey to all!
This Land, t'one God once chastly wed,
How often hath she chang'd her Head,
Since they our Temples ruin'd pride
With bad presage reedifi'd!
Since those, in forrein bondage born,
Did with their servile Fates return!
On us Antiochus guilt reflects:
Our Fathers Sinnes sit on our necks.
What durst that wicked Age not do,
Which could those Altars naked view,
Oft flaming with celestiall Fire!
Provoking Heavens deserved ire
With their adult'rat Sacrifice!
For this did Ours so highly prize
Th'Ionian Gods, by mortals made,
And incense to those Idols pay'd?
Since when th'Accurst their brothers slew;
Wives, lesse malitious poyson brew;
Sons fall by Mothers: we have known
That, which will be beleev'd by none.
Twice vanquished by Romane Armes;
Twice have their Conquerours our harmes
Remov'd for greater: Fortunes change
To our proud Masters prov'd as strange.
Yet this no lesse our grief provokes,
Our kindred beare divided yokes:
One part by Romane bondage wrung;
The other two by Brothers, sprung
From Savage Idumæans, whom
Our Fathers have so oft ore-come.
O thou the Hope, the onely One
Of our distresse, and ruin'd Throne;
Of whom, with a prophetick tongue,
To Judah dying Jacob sung:
The crowned Muse on ivory Lyre,
His breast inflam'd with holy Fire,
This oft fore-told; That thou shouldst free
The People consecrate to thee;
That thou, triumphing, shouldst revoke
Sweet Peace, then never to be broke;
When free'd Judæa should obey
One Lord, and all affect his Sway.
O when shall we behold thy Face,
So often promis'd to our Race!
If Prophets, who have won belief
By our mishaps and flowing grief,
Of joyfull change as truely sung;
Thy absence should not now belong.
Thee, by thy Vertue, we intreat;
The Temples Vaile, the Mercies Seat;
That Name, by which our Fathers sware,
Which in our vulgar Speech we dare
Not utter, to compassionate
Thy Kindreds Teares, and ruin'd State.
Hast, to our great Redemption, hast,
O thou most Holy! and at last
Blesse with thy Presence; that we may
To thee our Vowes devoutly pay.

THE THIRD ACT.

JVDAS. CAIAPHAS.
[JVDAS.]
You who preserve your pure integrity;
O you whose crimes transcend not credit, fly
Farre from my presence! whose invenom'd sight
Pollutes the guilty. Thou, who wrong and right
Distinctly canst discern; whose gentle brest
All faith hath not abandon'd, but art blest
With children, brothers, friends; nor hast declin'd
The sweet affections of a pious Minde;
Shut up the winding entry of thine eare,
Nor let the world of such a bargain heare.
A Sinne so horrible should be to none
Besides the desperate Contractors known.
Wher's now that mitred Chief? where that dire Train
Of Sacrificers, worthy to be slain
On their own Altars? I have found my Curse:
The Sun, except my self, sees nothing worse.
Heare, without hire; O heare the too well known:
If you seek for a witnesse; I am one
That can the truth reveal: Or would you finde
A Villain? Her's a self-accusing Minde.
That sacred Life, O most immaculate!
More then my Masters! to your deadly Hate
Have I betrai'd: discharge my hands I may,
Although not of the Guilt, yet of the Prey.
Receive the gift you gave: a treachery
Second to mine, you may of others buy.

CAIAPHAS.
If thou accuse thy selfe of such a Sin
Deservedly, thou hast a Court with-in,
That will condemne thee. Thy offences be
No Crimes of ours: our consciences are free.
Nor shall the sacred Treasury receive
The price of bloud. Thee to thy Fate we leave.

JVDAS.
Is this the doctrine of your piety
To approve the Crime, yet hate the Hire? O fly,
Fly, wretch, unto the Altar, and pollute
The Temple with thy Sins accursed fruite.
Nor will I for my selfe with hopelesse praier
Solicit Heaven; lost in my owne despaire;
But Gods sterne Justice urge, that we, who were
Joyn'd in the guilt, may equall vengeance beare.
Nor shall I in my punishment proove slow:
Behold, your Leader will before you go;
'Tis fit you follow; to those silent Deepes,
Those horrid Shades, where Sorrow never sleepes.
Thou great Director of the rouling Starres,
Vnlesse thou idlely lookst on mens affaires,
And vainely we thy brutish Thunder feare;
Why should thy land so dire a Monster beare?
Or the Sun not retire, and yet behold?
If those thy fearefull punishments of old
Require beliefe, in one unite them all:
Let Seas in Cataracts from Meteors fall,
Afford no shore, but swallow in their Brine;
That so the Worlds first ruine may prove mine,
Let melting Stars their sulphrous surfet shed,
And all the Heavenly Fires fall on my Head.
And thou, O injur'd Earth, thy jawes extend,
That I may to th'infernall Shades descend:
Lesse cause had thy revenge, when she the five
Inrag'd Conspirators devour'd alive.
Those evils which amaz'd the former-times,
Thy fury hath consum'd on smaller Crimes.
O slow revenger of his injuries,
And he thy Son! some fearefull death devize;
Vnknowne, and horrid: Or shall I pursue
My owne offence, and act what thou shouldst doe?
You Legions of Heavens Exuls, you who take
Revenge on Mortals for the crimes you make;
Why troope you thus about me? Or what need
These terrors? Is my punishment decree'd
In Hell already? Furies, now I come.
In your darke dungeons what more horrid Rome
Shall now devoure me? Must I to that Place,
Where the curs'd Father of a wicked Race
Your scourges feeles? who, when the world was new,
And but possest by foure, his brother slew.
Or where that faithlesse Prince blasphemes? then all
His Host more eminent; who lest his fall
Should honour to his enemies afford,
Made way for hated Life with his own sword.
He most affects me, who his fathers Chaire
Vsurp'd; when caught by his revenging Haire,
He lost the Earth and Life: the way he led
T'avoided Death, my willing feet shall tread.
Master, I fly to anticipate the event
Of my foule crime with equall punishment.

PONTIVS PILAT. THE JEWS.
[PILAT.]
Horror distracts my sense: irresolute
Whether I should break silence, or sit mute.
Envy th'accus'd condemnes, whom Justice cleares.
I must confesse, perswaded by my Feares,
Lest I this State and People should insence,
I wisht they could have prov'd that great Offence.
Yet whatsoever they inforc'd of late,
No fault of his reveal'd, but their own hate.
His silence was a vanquishing reply.
Who for detecting their false piety
(Whose supercilious looks, with fasting pale,
Close avarice, and proud ambition vaile)
Is by their Arts made guilty: One that slights
The God they adore, and violates his Rites.
From hence those many-nam'd Offences spring;
And his aspiring to become their King.
Can those poore Fishers of that In-land Sea,
And women, following him from Galile,
So great a Spirit in their Leader raise;
That Rome should feare, whom all the World obayes.
Yet he avers his Kingdome is unknown,
Nor of this World; and bows to Cæsars Throne.
Prov'd by th'event: for when the Vulgar bound
His yeelding hands, they no resistance found.
But his endowments, zealous in defence
Of clouded Truth, their mortall hate incense.
Follow'd by few, who like affections beare,
And with beliefe their Masters doctrine heare.
If true, he may speak freely; nor must dye
For Ostentation, though he broach a lye.
But if distracted, that's a punishment
Even to it selfe, and Justice doth prevent.
He, whom this Annual Solemnity
Hath now invited to the Temple by
His Father built, whose Kingdome borders on
The land innobled by Agenor's Throne,
Of these stupendious acts by Rumour spred
Could fixe no faith, though in his City bred.
To laughter doom'd, his Rivall Herod scorn'd;
And sent him back, in purple robes adorn'd.
Th'implacable, now far more fiercely bent
To prosecute the twice-found innocent:
Perhaps afraid lest they their owne should loose,
Vnlesse they him of forged guilt accuse.
But when Revenge doth once the Minde ingage;
O how it raves! lost to all sense but rage!
No Lionesse, late of her whelps bereft,
With wilder fury prosecutes the Theft.
O Shame! through feare I sought to shield the Right
VVith honest Fraud, and Justice steale by slight:
As when the labouring Bark, too weak to stem
The boysterous Tide, obliquely cuts the stream.
They have an ancient Custome, if we may
Believe the Jews, derived from that Day
When the delivered Sons of Israel
Fled from those banks whose flouds in summer swel:
That ever when the Vernall Moone shall joyne
Her silver Orb, and in full lustre shine,
They should some one release, to gratifie
The People, by their Law condemn'd to die.
Now, hoping to have free'd the Innocent,
The violent Priests my Clemency prevent:
Who urge the heady Vulgar to demand
One Barrabas; a Thiefe, who had a hand
In every murther, hot with humane blood.
How little it avails us to be good!
Preposterous Favour! through the hate they beare
His guiltlesse Soule, their Votes the guilty cleare.
And now my Wifes not idle dreames perplex
My strugling thoughts, which all this night did vex
Her troubled slumbers: who conjures me by
All that is holy, all the Gods, that I
Should not the laws of Justice violate
To gratifie so undeserv'd a hate.
For this shall I the Hebrew Fathers slight,
Th'indeavours of a Nation so unite,
Committed to my charge? Shall I for One
Poore Abject, forfeit all the good I have done?
These pester'd Wals all Jewry now infold;
The Houses hardly can their Strangers hold,
Sent from all parts to this great Festivall:
What if the Vulgar to their weapons fall?
Who knows the end, if once the Storme begin?
Sure I, their Judge, egregious praise should win
By troubling of the publique Peace. Shall I
Then render him to death? Impiety!
For what offence? Is his offence not great,
Whose innovation may a warre beget?
Lest Empire suffer, they who scepters beare
Oft make a Crime, and punish what they feare.
One hope remaines: Our Souldiers the Free-borne,
And yet by our command, with whips have torne.
A sight so full of pitty may asswage
The swiftly-spreading fire of popular Rage.
Look on this Spectacle! his armes all o're
With lashes gall'd, deep dy'd in their own gore!
His sides exhausted! all the rest appeares
Like that Fictitious Scarlet which he weares!
And for a Crown, the wreathed Thornes infol'd
His bleeding browes! With griefe his griefe behold!

JEWES.
Away with him: from this Contagion free
Th'infected Earth, and naile him on a Tree.

PILAT.
What, crucifie your King?

JEWES.
Dominion can
No Rivall brook. His rule, a Law to Man,
Whom Rome adores, we readily obay:
And will admit of none but Cæsars Sway.
He Cæsars right usurps, who hopes to ascend
The Hebrew Throne. Thy own affairs intend.
Dost thou discharge thy Masters trust, if in
Thy government a president begin
So full of danger, tending to the rape
Of Majesty? Shall treason thus escape?

PILAT.
The Tumult swels: the Vulgar and the Great,
Joyne in their Votes with contributed heat.
Whose whisperings such a change of murmur raise
As when the rising Windes first Fury strayes
'Mong wave-beat Rocks; when gathering Clouds deforme
The face of Heaven, whose Wrath begets a Storme:
The fearefull Pilot then distrusts the Skies;
And to the neerest Port for refuge flies.
To these rude Clamours they mine eares inure:
Such sharpe diseases crave a sudden cure.
You my Attendants, hither quickly bring
Spot-purging Water from the living Spring.
Thou liquid Chrystall, from pollution cleare;
And you my innocent hands like record beare,
On whom these cleansing streames so purely runne;
I voluntarily have nothing done.
Nor am I guilty, though he guiltlesse die:
Yours is the Crime; his Blood upon you lie.

JEWES.
Rest thou secure. If his destruction shall
Draw down celestiall Vengeance, let it fall
Thick on our heads, in punishment renew:
And ever our dispersed Race pursue.

PILAT.
Then I, from this Tribunall, mounted on
Imbellish'd Marble, Judgements awfull Throne,
Thus censure: Lead him to the Crosse; and by
A servil death let Judahs King there dye.

CHORVS OF JEWISH WOMEN. JESVS.
[CHORVS OF JEWISH WOMEN]
VVe all deplore thy miseries;
For Thee we beat our brests; our eyes
In bitter teares their moysture shed:
If thou be he by Ravens fed,
Aloft on flaming Charriot born;
Yet wouldst to cruell Lords return:
Or that sad Bard, believ'd too late,
Who sung his Countreys servil Fate;
Now come to sigh her destiny,
A like unhappy; twice to dye:
Or he, long nourish'd in the Wood,
Who late in Jordans cleansing Flood
So many wash'd; that durst reprove
A King for his incestious love;
Slain for a Dancer. If the same,
Or other of an elder fame,
Sent back to Earth, in vices drown'd,
To raise it from that dark Profound;
'Tis sure thy Sanctitie exceeds,
Blaz'd by thy Vertue and thy Deeds.
O never more, ring'd with a Throng
Of Followers, shall thy sacred tongue
Informe our Actions; nor the way
To Heaven, and heavenly joyes, display!
The Blind, who now the unknown light
Beholds, scarce trusting his own sight,
Thy gift, shall not the Giver see.
Those maladies, subdu'd by thee,
Which powerfull Art and Hearbs defie,
No more thy soveraign Touch shall fly.
Nor Loaves, so tacidly increast,
Againe so many thousands feast.
Thou Rule of Lifes Perfection,
By Practice, as by Precept, shown,
Late hemb'd with Auditors, whose store
Incumbred the too-narrow Shore,
The Mountains cover'd with their Preasse,
The Mountains then their People lesse;
For whom our Youths their garments strew,
Victorious Boughs before thee threw,
While thou in Triumph rid'ft along,
Saluted with a joyfull Song:
Now, see what change from Fortune springs!
O dire Vicissitude of Things!
Betray'd, abandon'd by thy owne;
Drag'd by thy Foes, oppos'd by none.
Thou hope of our afflicted state,
Thou Balme of Life, and Lord of Fate;
Not erst to such unworthy bands
Did'st thou submit thy powerfull Hands.
Lo, he who gave the dumbe a tongue,
With patient silence bears his wrong!
The Souldier, ah! renews his blows;
The whip new-op'ned furrows shows,
Which now in angry tumors swel:
To us their wrath the Romans sel.
Lo, how his members flow! the smart
Confin'd to no particular part:
His stripes, which make all but one sore,
Run in confused streames of gore.
Art thou the Slave of thy owne Fate,
To beare thy torments cursed waight?
What Arab, though he wildly stray
In wandring Tents, and live by prey;
Or Cyclop, who no pitty knowes,
Would such a cruel task impose?
O that the fatall pressure might
Sinke thee to Earth, nor weigh more light
Then Death upon thee; that thy weake
Vntwisted thread of life might breake!
It were a blessing so to dye:
But O for how great cruelty
Art thou reserv'd! the Crosse thou now
Support'st, must with thy burden bow.

JESVS.
Daughters of Solyma, no more
My wrongs thus passionately deplore.
These teares for future sorrows keep:
Wives, for your selves and children weep.
That horrid day will shortly come,
When you shall blesse the barren Wombe,
And Brest that never infant fed:
Then shall you wish the mountains head
Would from his trembling basis slide,
And all in tomb's of ruins hide.

CHORVS.
Alas! thou spotlesse Sacrifice
To greedy Death! no more our eyes
Shall see thy Face! ah, never more
Shalt thou return from Deaths dark shore.
Though Lazarus, late at thy call,
Brake through the barrs of Funerall;
Rais'd from that Prison to review
The World which then he hardly knew:
Who forth-with former sense regains;
The bloud sprung in his heated Veins;
His sinews supple grew, yet were
Again almost conjeal'd with feare.
Thy followers, Sadock, now may know
Their Error from the Shades below.
A Few, belov'd by the Most High,
Through Vertue of the Deitie,
To others rarely rendred breath:
None ever rais'd himselfe from death.

THE FOVRTH ACT.

FIRST NVNCIVS. CHORVS OF JEWISH WOMEN. SECOND NVNCIVS.
[1. NVNCIVS]
I from the horrid'st Act that ever fed
The fire of barbarous Rage, at length am fled:
Yet O too neare! The Object still pursues;
Flotes in mine eyes, that sad Scene renewes.

CHORVS.
Art thou a witnesse of his miserie?
Saw'st thou the Galilean Prophet die?

I. NVNCIVS.
Those Savages, to Scythian Rocks confin'd,
Who know no God, nor vertue of the Minde,
But onely Sense pursue; who hunger tame
With slaughtered Lives; they, and their food, the same;
Would this detest.

CHORVS.
Vain Innocence! would none
Lend him a teare! were all transform'd to stone!

I. NVNCIVS.
No certainly: yet so commiserate,
As Pittie prov'd more tyrannous then Hate.
The cursed Tree with too much weight opprest
His stooping shoulders: Death had now releast
His fainting Soul: but O, the Lenitie
Of Malice would not suffer him to die.
Part of the load impos'd with idle scorn
On Lybian Simon, in Cyrene born.
To whom th'affected quiet of the fields,
Secur'd by Poverty, no safety yeelds.
The Furies of the Citie him surprise,
Who from the vices of the Citie flies:
Who beares not his own burden, that none may
Misdoubt, the Innocent became their prey.

CHORVS.
Forth-with unmask this wretched face of Wo:
All that he suffer'd, and the manner show;
What words brake from his sorrow; give thy tongue
A liberall scope: Our mindes not seldome long
To know what they abhorre: nor spare our eares;
What can be heard, is fancied by our feares.

I. NVNCIVS.
With-out the Citie, on that side which lies
Exposed to the boysterous injuries
Of the cold North, to War a fatall Way,
Infamous by our slaughters, Golgotha
Exalts his Rock. No flowers there paint the field,
Nor flourishing trees refreshing, shadowes yield:
The ground all white, with bones of mortalls spread,
Stencht with the putrefaction of the dead,
And reliques of unburied Carcases.
Who on his aged Fathers throat durst sease,
Rip-up his mothers wombe; who poyson drest
For his own brother; or his unknown Guest
Betray'd, and gave his mangled flesh for food
Vnto the wild inhabitants of the Wood;
This Stage of Death deserv'd: while every foule
Misdeed of theirs pursues the guilty Soule.
Now when the Nazarite at this dismall place
Arrived, with a weak and tardy pace;
Least he should die too quickly, some preferre
Sweet wine, mixt with the bitter teares of Myrrhe.
He of the idle present hardly tasts;
But to incounter with his torments hasts.
The Steel now bor'd his feet, whose slit veines spout
Like pierced conduits; both his armes stretcht out.
His hands fixt with two nailes. While his great Soule
These tortures suffer'd, while the rising Bole
Forsook the Earth, and crimson Torrents sprung
From his fresh wounds, he gave his Grief no tongue.
The Crosse advanc'd and fixt; then, as more nigh
To his own Heaven, his eyes bent on the Skie,
Among such never to be equal'd woes
(Who would beleeve it!) pities his stern foes;
And thinks those false Contrivers, those who gor'd
His flesh with wounds, more fit to be deplor'd:
Who even their merited destruction feares;
And falsely judg'd, the truly guilty cleares.
Father, he cries, forgive this sinne! they knew
Not what they did, nor know what now they do.
Mean-while the Souldiers, who in bloud delight,
With hearts more hard then Rocks, behold this sight;
And savage Rigor never reconcil'd
To Pitty, all humanitie exil'd:
Who, us'd to pillage, now intend their prey;
Nor for his death, though then a dying, stay;
But he alive, and looking on, divide
The Spoil; yet more in the Spectatour joy'd.
Fury in trifles sports: their scorn his poore,
Yet parted garments, distribute to foure.
His inward Robe, with one contexture knit,
Nor of the like division would admit,
Their votes to the dispose of Lots referre,
Electing Chance for their blinde Arbiter.
Nor wast the least of evils to behold
Th'ignoble Partners of his pain; who old
In mischief rob'd the murder'd Passengers;
Follow'd by Troops, that fill'd the Night with feares.
While thus they hung, none could the doubt explain,
VVhether He more had sav'd then They had slain.
The numerous Index of each bloudy deed
Now brand their lives: when those who could not read
At such a distance, of the next inquire
For what they dy'd; who had the same desire.
But above his declining Head they hung
A table in three Languages: the Tongue,
The first of tongues, which taught our Abrahamites
Those heavenly Precepts, and mysterious Rites;
Next, that which to th'informed World imparts
The Grecian Industry, and learned Arts;
Then this, from whence the conquer'd Earth now takes
Her Lawes, and at the Romane Virtue quakes;
All of one sense. His place of birth, his Name
Declare; and for the Hebrew King proclame.
After the bloudy Priests so long had fed
On this lov'd Spectacle; at length they read
The Title: and in such a miserie,
So full of ruth, found something to envy.
The Governour intreating to take down
That glorious Stile; lest he the Hebrew Crown
Should vindicate in Death; and so deny
That Princes by Subordinates should die.
But who that Day so readily compli'd
To give a life, austerely this deni'd.

CHORVS.
While lingring Death his sad release deferr'd,
How lookt the standers-by? what words were heard?

I. NVNCIVS.
Not all alike: discording murmurs rise.
Some, with transfixed hearts, and wounded eyes,
Astonisht stand: some joy in his slow fate,
And to the last extend their Barbarous hate.
Motion it self variety begets,
And by a strange vicissitude regrets
What it affected, nor one posture beares:
Teares scornfull laughter raise, and laughter teares.
Who to the Temple from th'impoverisht shore
Of Galilee his followed steps adore,
And ministred to his life, now of his End
The Witnesses; still to their dying friend
Their faith preserve: which, as they could, they show
In all th'expressions of a perfect woe.
One, from her panting brest her garments tare;
Another, the bright tresses of her haire;
This, with her naked armes her bosome bears;
The hollow rock Her fearfull shriekes repeat;
She, stiff with sorrow. But what grief could vie
With that example of all piety,
His virgin Mothers! this affords no way
To lessening teares; nor could it self display.
Where should she fix her looks! if on the ground;
She sees that with her bloud, he bleeding, drown'd:
Or if she raise her eyes; the killing sight
Of her wombes tortored Issue quencht their light.
Fearing to look on either, both disclose
Their terrours; who now licences her woes.
Ready to have stept forward, and imbrast
The bloudy Crosse, her feeble lims stuck fast:
Her feet their motion lost; her voice in vain
A passage sought: such Grief could not complain.
Whose Soul almost as great a Sorrow stung,
As his, who on the Tree in torments hung.
That Youth, one of the Twelve, so dignifi'd
By his deare Masters love, stood by her side.
Beholding this sad Paire, those Souls that were
To him then life, while life remained, more deare;
He found an other Crosse: his spirits melt
More for the sorrow seen, then torments felt.
At length, in strength transcending either, brake
The barres of his long silence, and thus spake:
A legacie to each of you I leave:
Mother, this sonne in stead of me receave
By thy adoption: and thou gentle boy,
The seed of Zebedeus, late my joy,
Thy friend now for thy mother take. This said,
Again he to his torments bow'd his Head.
The Vulgar with the Elders of our Race,
And Souldiers, shake their heads in his disgrace:
Is this the man, said they, whose hands can raise
The Temple, and rebuild it in three dayes?
Now shew thy strength. Or if the Thunderer
Above the rank of Mortalls thee preferre,
Acknowledg'd for his Heir; let him descend,
Confirme thy hopes, and timely succour lend.
Behold, the help thou gav'st to others, failes
The Authour. Break these Bonds, these stubborn Nails,
And from the Crosse descend: then we will say
Thou art our King, and thy Commands obey.
Nor wast enough that the surrounding Throng
Wound with reproches: Who besides him hung,
Doth now again a murderers minde disclose;
And in his punishment more wicked growes.
Who thus: If thou be he whom God did choose
To Govern the free'd Nation of the Jews,
Thy self, and us release: thus honour win.
The Partner of his death, as of his sinne,
Who had his fiercenesse, with the thief, cast-off,
Ill brookes, and thus reprooves, that impious scoff:
Hast thou as yet not learnt to acknowledge God?
Nor sacred Justice fear? who now the rod
Of vengeance feel'st? wilt thou again offend,
And to the jaws of Hell thy guilt extend?
This death we owe to our impiety:
But what are his misdeeds? why should he die?
Then looking on his face with dropping eyes:
Forgive me, O forgive a wretch, he cries:
And O my Lord, my King, when thou shalt be
Restor'd to thy own Heaven, remember me.
He mildly gives consent; and from the barres
Of that sad Crosse, thus rais'd him to the Starres:
With me, a happy Guests, thou shalt injoy
Those sacred Orchards where no frosts destroy
The eternall Spring, before the Morne display
The purple Ensigne of th'ensuing Day.

CHORVS.
What's this! the Centre pants with sudden throwes!
And trembling Earth a sad distemper showes!
The Sun, affrighted, hides his golden Head;
From hence by an unknown Ecliptick fled!
Irregular Heavens abortive shades display;
And Night usurpes the empty Throne of Day!
What threats do these dire Prodigies portend
To our offending Race! Those ills transcend
All that can be imagin'd, which inforce
Disturbed Nature to forget her Course.
I heare approaching feet: What ere thou art,
Whom darknesse from our sight conceales, impart
All that thou know'st to our prepared eares:
Accomplish, or dissolve our pressing feares.

II NVNCIVS.
Fury (from which, if loose, the Earth had fled)
And fatall Starres have their event: He's dead.

CHORVS.
O Heaven! we pardon now Dayes hasty flight;
Nor will complain, since they have quencht this light.
Yet tell how he dispos'd of his last breath;
The passages, and order of his death.

II NVNCIVS.
As the declining Sun the shades increast,
Reflecting on the more removed East,
His blazing haire grew black: no clouds obscures
His vanisht Light; this his own Orb immures.
The Dayes fourth part as yet invests the Pole,
Were this a Day; when from the afflicted Soule
This voice was clearely heard, not like the breath
Of those who labour between life and death;
My God, O why dost thou thy own forsake!
VVhich purposely the Multitude mistake,
But to prolong their cruel mirth; who said,
He on the Thesbian Prophet calls for aid;
Now to return, and draw from Heaven again
Devouring Showres of Fire, or Flouds of Rain.
VVith silence this he indures. His body rent,
His bloud exhausted, and his Spirits spent,
He cry'd; I Thirst. As servants to his will,
The greedy hollowes of aspunge they fill
VVith vineger, which Hyssops sprigs combine,
And on a reed exalt the deadly Wine.
This scarcely tasted, his pale lips once more
He opens, and now lowder then before
Cry'd, All is finisht; here my labours end:
To thee, O heavenly Father, I commend
My parting Soul. This said, hung down his head;
And with his words his mixed Spirits fled:
Leaving his body, which again must bleed,
Now senselesse of the Crosse. From prison freed,
Those happy seats he injoyes, by God assign'd
To injur'd Vertue, and th'etheriall Minde.
But Terrours, which with Nature war, affright
Our peacelesse Souls. The World hath lost its Light:
Heaven, and the Deeps below, our Guilt pursue:
Pale troops of wandring Ghosts now hurrie through
The holy Citie; whom, from her unknown
And secret Wombe, the trembling Earth hath thrown.
The cleaving Rocks their horrid jawes display:
And yawning Tombes afford the dead a way
To those that live. Heaven is the generall
And undistinguisht Sepulcher to all.
Old Chaos now returnes. Ambitious Night
Impatient of alternate Rule, or Right,
Such as before the Dayes etheriall birth,
With her own shady People fills the Earth.

CHORVS.
How did the many-minded People look
At these Portents? with what affection strook?

II. NVNCIVS.
The Lamentations, mixed with the cries
Of weeping Women, in low'd Vollies rise.
Those who had known him, who his followers were
While yet he liv'd, and did in death adhere,
In that new Night sighs from their sorrowes send;
And to those Heavens they could not see, extend
Their pious hands; complaining that the Sun
Would then appeare when this was to be done.
The safety of their lives the Vulgar dread:
Some for themselves lament, some for the dead;
Others the ruine of the world bewaile.
Their Courages the cruel Romanes faile:
Those hands, which knew no peace, now lazie grew;
And conquering Feare to earth their weapons threw.
Th'amaz'd Centurion with our thoughts compli'd;
And swore the Heros most unjustly dy'd:
Whose punishment the Earth could hardly brook,
But groaning, with a horrid motion shook.
Confirmed by the Dayes prodigious flight
To be a beame of the celestiall Light:
And so the mourning Heavens inverted face,
Showes to the Vnder world his Heavenly Race.

CHORVS.
Why flock the People to the Temple thus?
No cause, excepting piety, in us
Can want belief. Hope they to satisfie
With Sacrifice the Wrath of the most High?

II. NVNCIVS.
New prodigies, as horrid, thither hale
Th'astonisht Multitude. The Temples Vale
That hung on guilded Beames in purple dy'd,
Asunder rent, and fell on either side.
The trust of what was sacred is betray'd;
And all the Hebrew Mysteries display'd.
That fatall Ark, so terrible of old
To our pale foes, which Cherubins of Gold
Veil'd with their hovering wings; whose closure held
Those two-leav'd Tables, wherein God reveal'd
His sacred Lawes; That Food which by a new
Example fell from Heaven in fruitfull Dew
About our Tents, and tacidly exprest
By intermitted showres the seventh Dayes rest;
The Rod with never dying blossoms spread;
Which with a Miter honour Aarons Head:
These, with th'old Temple perisht: Th'eye could reach
No object in this rupture, but the Breach.
What was from former Ages hid, is shown;
Which struck so great a reverence when unknown.
The Temple shines with flames; and to the sight
That fear'd Recesse disclos'd with its own Light.
Either Religion from their fury flies,
Leaving it naked to profaner eyes:
Or God doth this abhorred Seat reject,
And will his Temple in the Minde erect.

CHORVS.
Shall Punishment in Death yet finde an end?
Shall his cold Corps to earth in peace descend?
Or naked hang, and with so dire a sight
Profane the Vesper of the sacred Night?

II. NVNCIVS.
Too late Religion warmes their savage brests,
Lest that neare Houre, which harbengers their Feast,
Should take them unprepar'd: to Pilat they
Repaire; intreat him that the Souldier may
From bloudy crosses take their bodies down,
Before their Festivalls the Morning crown:
That no uncleannesse might from thence arise;
In memory of th'Ægyptian Sacrifice.
The leggs of the two Thieves, they brake, whose breath
Yet groan'd between the bounds of life and death.
The crashing bones report a dreadfull sound;
While both their souls at once a passage found.
Nor had the Cohort lesse to Jesus done,
Who now the Course prescrib'd by Fate had runne:
But dead, deep in his side his trembling speare
A Souldier strake: his entrails bare appeare;
And from that wide-mouth'd Orifice, a floud
Of water gusht, mixt with a stream of bloud.
The Crosses now discharged of their fraught,
The People fled; not with one look or thought:
Part sad, and part amaz'd. Spent Fury dies.
Whither so fast? run you to sacrifice
A silly Lambe? too mean an Offering
Is this for you, who have sacrific'd your King.

CHORVS.
Either deceiv'd by the ambiguous Day,
Or troops of mourners to my eyes display
A perfect Sorrow: Women with their bare
And bleeding brests, drown'd cheeks, dissheveld haire.
The Souldiers slowly march, with knees that bend
Beneath their feares, and Pilats staires ascend.

CHORVS OF ROMANE SOVLDIERS.
O thou who on thy flaming Charriot rid'st,
And with perpetuall Motion Time divid'st;
Great King of Day, from whose farre-darting Eye
Night-wandring Stars with fainting Splendor flie;
Whither, thus intercepted, dost thou stray!
Through what an unknown darknesse lies thy way!
In Heaven, what new-born Night the Day invades!
The Mariner that sails by Tyrian Gades,
As yet sees not thy panting Horses steepe
Their fiery fet-locks in th'Hesperian Deep.
No pitchy storme, wrapt up in swelling Clouds
By Earth exhal'd, thy golden Tresses shrouds:
Nor thy pale Sister in her wandring Race
With interposed wheeles obscures thy Face;
But now farre-off retires with her stolne Light,
Till in a silver Orbe her hornes unite.
Hath some Thessalian Witch with Charms unknown
Surpriz'd and bound thee! What new Phaëton
With feeble hands to guide thy Charriot strives,
And farre from the deserted Zodiack drives!
What horrid fact, before th'approach of Night,
Deservedly deprives the World of Light!
As when stern Atreus to his Brother gave
His Childrens flesh, who made his owne their grave:
Or when the Vestall Ilia's God-like Sun,
Who our unbounded Monarchie begun,
Was in a hundred pieces cut; by theft
At once of Life and Funerals bereft.
Or hath that Day wherein the Gods were borne
Finish'd the Course of Heaven in its returne;
And now the aged Stars refuse to run
Beyond that place from whence they first begun!
Nature, what plagues dost thou to thine intend!
Whither shrinks this hugh Masse! what fatall end?
If now the Generall Floud againe retire,
If the World perish by licentious Fire,
What shall of those devouring Seas become!
Where shall those funerall Ashes finde a Tomb!
What ever innovates the Course of Things,
To men alone, nor Nations, ruine brings:
Either the groaning Worlds disordered Frame
Now suffers, or that Power which guides the same.
Doe proud Titanians with their impious War
Again provoke th'Olympian Thunderer?
Is there a mischiefe extant, greater then
Dire Python, or the Snake of Lerna's Fen,
That poysons the pure Heavens with Viperous breath?
What God, from Gods deriv'd, opprest by Death,
Is now in his own Heaven bewail'd? Divine
Lyeus gave to man lesse precious Wine;
Not Hercules so many Monsters slew;
Vnshorne Apollo lesse in Physick knew.
Sure we with darknesse are invelloped
Because that innocent bloud by Envy shed,
So deare unto the Gods, this place defam'd:
VVhich shook the Earth, and made the Day asham'd.
Great Father of us all, whose Influence
Informes the World thou mad'st; though Sin incense
Thy just displeasure, easie to forgive
Those who confesse, and for their Vices grieve;
Now to the desperate Sons of men, who stray
In sinnes dark Labyrinth, restore the Day.
One Sacrifice seek we to expiate
All our Offences, and appease his hate.
VVhich the Religion of the Samian,
Nor Thracian Harpe, wild beasts instructing, can;
Nor that Prophetick Boy, the Gleabs swart son,
VVho taught the Thuscans Divination.
The Bloud, which from that mangled body bled,
Must purge our sins, which we unjustly shed.
O smooth thy brows! Receive the innocence
Of one for all; and with our guilt dispence.
For sin, what greater Ransome can we pay?
VVhat worthier Offering on thy Altar lay?

THE FIFTH ACT.

JOSEPH OF ARIMATHEA. NICODEMVS.
[JOSEPH.]
See, Citizens, we Pilats bounty beare:
With-out a suite men cannot man interre.
The Romane Progeny nor freely will
Doe what is good; nor, unrewarded ill.
Nothing is now in use but barbarous Vice:
They sell our bloud, on graves they set a price.

NICODEMVS.
O Joseph, these vaine extasies refraine:
But if it seeme so pleasant to Complaine,
Let Rome alone, and seek a neerer guilt:
His bloud not Romulus sons, but Abrahams spilt.
VVho so the purer sense sincerely draws
From those celestiall Oracles and Lawes,
By God above himselfe inspir'd, will say
None led to Eternitie a straighter way.
VVhat's that to Pilat? fell the Innocent by
A Romane Oath? was't through the subtilty
Of Senators or Priests? The Doome display'd
They Cæsar lesse then Caiaphas obay'd.
Let us transferre the fact; the impious Jew
VVith heart, with tongue and eyes, first Jesus slew:
The Romans onely acted their Offence.
How well the Heavens with Hebrew hands dispence!
For this the Jew th'Italians Crime envi'd,
And wish'd himselfe the bloody Homicide.
Doe we as yet our servitude lament,
VVhen such a murder meets no punishment?
This doe they, this command.

JOSEPH.
The Progeny
Of Romane Ilia, and of Sara, I
VVith equall detestation execrate.
O may they perish by a fearefull Fate!
Just Heaven, why sleepes thy Lightning! in a Showre
Of pitch descend: Let stenching Seas devoure
This cursed City. Sodome, thou art cleare,
Compar'd to ours. No more will I a teare
Shed for my Countrey. Let the Great in War,
VVorse then the Babylonian Conquerar,
Enter her Breaches like a violent Floud,
Vntill the bloudy City swim in bloud.
Is this too little? Let Diseases sow
Their fruitfull Seed, and in destruction grow:
Famine, in their dry entrailes take thy seat;
VVhat Nature most abhors, inforce to eat.
Let th'Infant tremble at his Fathers knife;
The Babe re-enter her who gave it Life.
VVhile yet the eager Foe invests the wall,
VVithin may they by their own weapons fall:
The Temple wrapt in flames. Let th'Enemy
Decide their Civill Discord, and destroy
VVith sire and sword ungratefull Solyma:
The reliques of their slaughter drive away;
Nor seventy yeers dissolve their servill bands;
Despis'd, and wretched, wander through all Lands:
Abolish'd be their Law; all forme of State:
No Day see their returne. Let sudden Fate
Succeed my curses. This infected Soyle
No more shall feed me. What unusuall toyle
Shall my old feet refuse, so they no more
Tread on this Earth! though to that unknown shore,
VVhich lyes beneath the slow Bootes VVaine,
Dasht by th'unconstant billows of that Maine.
That Countrey shall be mine, where Justice swayes;
And bold Integrity the Truth obayes.

NICODEMVS.
This Error with a secret poyson feeds
The minds Disease. VVho censures his own deeds?
VVho not anothers? These accusing Times
Rather the men condemne, then taxe their Crimes.
Such is the Tyranny of Judgement; prone
To sentence all Offences, but our owne.
Because of late we cry'd not Crucifie,
Nor falsely doom'd the Innocent to die,
Our selves we please: as it a Vertue were;
And Great one, if from great Offences cleare.
Confesse; what Orator would plead his Cause?
To vindicate his truth who urg'd the Laws?
Or once accus'd their bloudy suffrages,
By Envy sign'd? VVho durst those Lords displease?
So Piety suffer'd, while by speaking they,
And we by silence, did the Just betray.
VVhen women openly their zeale durst show,
VVe, in acknowledging our Master, slow,
Vnder the shady coverture of Night
Secur'd our feares, which would not brook the Light.
Joseph, at length our faith it selfe exprest;
But to the Dead.

JOSEPH.
This is a truth confest.
The Evening now restored Day subdues:
And lo, the Vigil with the Night enseues.
Not farre from Golgotha's infamous Rocks
A Cave there is, hid with the shady Locks
Of funerall Cypresse, hewne through living stone:
The house of Death; as yet possest by none.
My Age this chose for her eternall rest:
VVhich now shall entertaine a nobler Guest.
That ample Stone which shuts the Sepulcher,
Shall the inscription of his Vertues beare.
VVho knows but soon a holier Age may come,
VVhen all the World shall celebrate this Tombe;
And Kings as in a Temple here adore;
Through fire and sword sought from the farthest Shore?

NICODEMVS.
Pure water of the Spring, you precious Tears,
Perfumes which Odor-breathing Saba beares,
VVith your preservatives his body lave,
Sinke through his pores, and from corruption save.
Nor God, nor Fate will suffer, that this pure,
This sacred Corps, should more then death indure.
Religion, if thou know'st the Shades below,
Let never filthy putrefaction flow
Through his uncover'd bones; nor wast of Time
Resolve this heavenly figure into slime.

JOHN. MARY THE MOTHER OF JESVS.
[JOHN.]
Thou reverent Virgin, of his royall Bloud,
Who all between the Erythrean Floud
And great Euphrates won by strenuous Armes:
Assume his noble fortitude; those harmes
Which presse thy Soul, subdue: ungentle Fate
Hath by undoing thee secur'd thy state.
Fortune her strength by her own blowes hath spent.
Judæa's kingdome from thy Fathers rent
By forrein hands; of ancient Wealth berest;
Except thy Son, what was for danger left?
These stormes by death disperst, serene appeare:
For what hath childlesse Poverty to feare?

MARY.
O John, for thee in such extreames to mourn
Perhaps is new: but I to grief was born.
With this have we convers't twice sixteen yeares:
No form of sorrow hath beguil'd our feares.
To me how ominously the Prophets sung,
Even from the time that heavenly Infant sprung
In my chaste Wombe! Old Simeon this reveal'd;
And in my Soul the deadly wound beheld.
When One, among so many Infants slain,
Was by the Tyrants Weapons sought in vain,
No miracles had then his fame displaid,
Or him the object of their envy made.
Perfidious Fraud in Sanctities disguise,
Nor the adulterated Pharisies,
By his detection had he yet inflam'd;
Nor for despising of their Rites defam'd;
A Trumpet of intestine Warre: the Earth
Of nothing then accus'd him, but his birth.
Not that fierce Prince, so cruell to his Own;
Nor his Successour in that fatall Throne,
As high in vice, who with the Prophets Head
Suppli'd his Feast, and on the bloud he had shed
Fed his incestuous eyes, in dire delight
To highten impious Love, could me affright:
Nor yet the vulgar, hating his free tongue;
And showres of stones by a thousand Furies flung.
I though no mischief could our steps pursue,
That was more great; or to our sufferings new.
What wants example, what no mother fear'd;
This, this alone my dying hopes inter'd.
Wretch, wilt thou seek for words t'expesse thy woes!
Or this so vast a grief in silence close!
Great God (such is my faith) why wouldst thou come
To this inferiour Kingdome through my wombe!
Why mad'st thou choice of me to bring thee forth
For punishment! unhappy in my worth!
No woman ever bare a Son, by touch
Of man conceiv'd, whose Soule indures so much:
No mother such an issue better gain'd;
Nor lost it worse; by cursed Death profan'd.

JOHN.
What lowder grief with such an emphasis
Strikes through mine eares! What honour'd Corse is this,
With Tyrian linen vail'd? What's he whose haires
Contend with snow, whose eies look through their tears,
Who on those veins, yet bleeding, odors powres?
Or his assistant, crown'd with equall houres?
What troops of women hither throng! what stormes
Rise in their looks! Grief wanders through all formes.
My eyes, ah! wound my Heart. This was thy son;
This is thy bloud, thy mangled flesh. O run,
Take thy last kisses, ere of those bereft
By funerall: What else of all is left?

MARY.
My Soul, tyr'd with long miserie,
Amidst these greater Sorrows die;
While Grief at his sad Exequies
Poures out her last Complaints in these.
Let me this snowy Paul unfold,
Once more those quickning looks behold.
O Son, born to a sad event;
Thus, thus, to thy poore Mother sent!
O Salem, was thy hatred such,
To murder him who lov'd so much!
Ah see, his side gor'd with a spear!
Those hands, that late so bounteous were,
Transfixt! his feet pierc'd with one wound!
The Sun had better never found
His losse, then with restored light
To shew the World so dire a sight.
You Neighbours to the Suns up-rise,
Who read their motions in the Skies;
O you in chief who found your Lord,
And with such lively Zeal ador'd,
Now view the Heavens inverted laws:
With me bewail the wretched Cause.
His Birth a Starre, new kindled, sign'd:
To see his Death the Sun grew blinde.
Thou hope of my afflicted State;
Thou living, I accus'd not Fate:
The Day again with light is crown'd,
But thou in Night for ever drown'd.
O could'st thou see my broken heart!
The flowing teares these springs impart!
Thy mother, whom man never knew;
Who by the Word then fruitfull grew:
My Womb admir'd that unknown Guest,
Whose burden for nine Moones increast.
Thy Mother, to a Scepter borne,
With age and wrinkling sorrow worne,
This Countrey sees to get her bread
With labour, in an humble Shed.
Thy milk from these two fountaines sprung:
These armes about my neck have hung,
Coucht on the flowry bancks of Nile:
Ægypt, so just to thy exile,
Hath now redeem'd her former Curse;
Our Jews then those of Memphis worse.
If his chast bloud at length asswage
The bitter tempest of your rage;
If you can pitty misery,
O let me by your mercy dye:
Or, if not glutted with his bloud;
With mine increase this purple floud.
O my deare sonne! what here our eyes behold,
What yonder hung, or what Death could infold
In endlesse Night; is mine, and onely mine:
No mortall did in thy conception joyne,
Nor part of thee can challenge: Since the losse
Was onely ours, let us the griefe ingrosse.
Vngratefull Man! who his Protector slew:
Nor feels his Curse, nor then his Blessing knew.
Poore wretch! no soule in thy defence durst rise:
And now the murdred unrevenged lies.
The Lame, who by thy powerfull Charmes were made
Sound and swift-footed, ran not to thy aide:
Those Eies, which never saw the glorious Light
Before thy soveraign touch, avoid thy sight:
And others, from Deaths silent mansion by
Thy Vertue ravish'd, suffer'd thee to dye.

JOHN.
Too true is thy Complaint, too just thy Woes:
Such were his friends, whom from a World he chose.
O desperate Faith! from whence, from whom are we
Thus falne! our Soules from no defection free!
Some sold, forswore him; none from tainture cleare;
All from him fled to follow their owne feare.
Thou Oracle! a father in thy care,
In love a brother, the delinquent spare,
In thy divine affection ô too blest!
Whom Yester-night saw leaning on thy brest:
If Love in death survive, if yet as great;
Even by that Love thy pardon I intreat:
By this thy weeping Mother: I the Heire
By thee adopted to thy filiall care,
Though alike wretched, and as comfortlesse;
Yet, as I can, will comfort her distresse.
O Virgin-mother, favour thy Reliefe;
Though just, yet moderate thy flowing griefe:
Thy downe-cast Minde by thy owne Vertue raise.
Th'old Prophets fill their Volumes with thy praise:
No Age but shall through all the round of Earth
Sing of that heavenly Love, and sacred Birth.
What female glory parallels thy Worth!
So grew a Mother, such a Son brought forth!
She who prov'd fruitfull in th'extreame of age,
And found the truth of that despis'd presage:
She, whose sweet Babe, expos'd among the reeds
Which ancient Nilus with his moisture feeds,
Who then, a smiling Infant, overcame
The threatning floud; aspir'd not to thy fame.
But these expressions are for thee too low;
The op'ning Heavens did their observance show:
Those radiant Troopes, which Darknesse put to flight,
Thy Throws assisted in that festive Night:
Who over thy adored Infant hung
With golden wings, and Allelu-jah's sung:
While the Old Sky, to imitate that birth,
Bare a new Starre to amaze the wondring Earth.

MARY.
Sorrow is fled: Joy, a long banish'd Guest,
With heavenly rapture fill's my inlarged brest:
More great then that in youth, when from the Sky
An Angel brought that blessed Embassy;
When Shame, not soon instructed, blush'd for feare,
How I a Son by such a Fate should beare.
I greater things fore-see: my eyes behold
What ever is by Destiny inrold.
With troops of pious Soules, more great then they,
Thou to felicity shalt lead the way.
A holy People shall obey thy Throne;
And Heaven it selfe surrender thee thy own.
Subjected Death thy Triumph now attends,
While thou from thy demolish'd Tombe ascends.
Nor shalt thou long be seene by mortall eies,
But in perfection mount above the Skies;
Propitious ever, from that heighth shalt give
Peace to the World, instructed how to live.
A thousand Languages shall thee adore:
Thy Empire know no bounds. The farthest Shore
Washt by the Ocean, those who Dayes bright Flame
Scarce warmes, shall heare the thunder of thy Name.
Licentious sword, nor hostill Fury, shall
Prevaile against thee: thou, the Lord of all.
Those Tyrants, whom the vanquisht Worlds obay,
Before thy feete shall Cæsars Scepter lay.
The Time draws on, in which it selfe must end,
When thou shalt in a Throne of Clouds descend
To judge the Earth. In that reformed World,
Those by their sins infected, shall be hurl'd
Downe under one perpetuall Night; while they
Whom thou hast cleans'd, injoy perpetuall Day.