Fovre bookes of Du Bartas I. The Arke, II. Babylon, III. The Colonnyes, IIII. The Columues or Pyllars: In French and English, for the Instrvction and Pleasvre of Svch as Delight in Both Langvages. By William Lisle ... Together with a large Commentary by S. G. S |
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The first Booke of Noe, called the Arke.
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 | Fovre bookes of Du Bartas |  |
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The first Booke of Noe, called the Arke.
Diuine Verse, if with ease thou flow not as to foreFrō out my weary quil, but make me toyle the more:
The sacred crown of Bay, that wont my fore-head shade,
If now decheueled, it wither, dwindle, fade:
So that my Muse be falne into these earthly hels
From that twypointed Mount where thine Vranie dwels,
Accuse the deadly fewds of this vnthankfull Age,
My many suits in Law, mine often gardianage,
My houshold care, my griefe at late and sundry losses,
And bodies crasie state: these and such other crosses,
They downward force my thoughts aspiring heretofore,
And damp my Muses wings that erst so high did soare.
This haile beats downe my corne, these bushes & these weeds
Before my haruest comes choak-vp those heau'nly seeds
That in my soule shot-out. O rid me of all these lets,
My God and Father deere! kindle in me th'emberets
Of Faith so nie put out: and, least mans wit deceiue me,
Be pleas'd, ô Lord, and ô let not thy spirit leaue me!
Paint, varnish, guild my Verse, now better then before,
And grant I be not like the winde that in a rore
Sends all his hurring force vpon the first he meets
And proudest hils of all, rooting trees, scouring streets;
That driuing o're the plaine, makes with his angry blast
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But fainteth more and more, as though his winged sway
Did scatter here and there her feathers by the way.
O rather make me like the streame that drop by drop
At first beginning fals from some rocks barren top;
But farther from the Spring and nar to Thetis flowing,
Encreaseth in his waues and gets more strength by going;
And then enbyllowed-high doth in his pride disdaine
With fome and roaring din all hugenesse of the Maine.
It came to passe at length, as our fore-sire foretold
And hausned long before, that angry heau'n enrould
And toomb'd the world in flood, t'auenge (as well it can)
The many plighted sinne of stubborne harted man.
Ne'r had the birds againe in coueys checky-pide
The windy-whirled ayre with hardy flight defide;
Nor beast nor man had beene: but on the land in vaine
Had sprung all kinde of fruit, of tree, of hearbe, of graine:
Had not the godly sonne of Lamech learn'd the skill,
And tooke the paine to build, that Arche huge as an hill,
Which of all breathing kinds safe from so great deluge
Aspaire of breeders held in sakersaint refuge.
When all were once i'th' Arche, Th'almighty bindeth fast
In Eols closest caue the cleering Northen blast,
And lets the South goe loose; he flyes with my slie wing:
From each bristle of his berd there trickleth downe a spring:
A cloggy night of myst embowdleth round his braine,
His haire all bushy-shagd is turned into raine.
He squeaseth in his hand the sponge of cloudy soods;
And makes it thund'r & flash, & powre down showry floods.
Forthwith the foamie drains, the riuers and the brooks,
Are puft vp all at once: their mingled water lookes,
And cannot finde, her bound; but hauing got the raine,
Bears haruest as it runs into the brackie Maine.
All Earth begins to quake, to sweat, to weepe for feare,
That nor in veine nor eye she leaueth drop or teare.
And thou, O heau'n, thy selfe draw'st all the secret sluses
Of thy so mighty Pooles to wash away th'abuses
That had thy sister soyld, who void of law and shame
Pleas'd onely to displease thy King and scorne his name.
Now lost is all the land. Now Nereus hath no shore;
Into the watry waste the riuers run no more;
Themselues are all a Meere, and all the sundry Meeres
That were before, are one: This All naught else appeares
But as a mighty Poole, and as it would conuent
And ioyne flood with the floods aboue the firmament.
The Sturgeon mounting ore high Castles is abasht
To see so many townes all vnder water dasht.
And makes it thund'r & flash, & powre down showry floods.
Forthwith the foamie drains, the riuers and the brooks,
Are puft vp all at once: their mingled water lookes,
And cannot finde, her bound; but hauing got the raine,
Bears haruest as it runs into the brackie Maine.
All Earth begins to quake, to sweat, to weepe for feare,
That nor in veine nor eye she leaueth drop or teare.
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Of thy so mighty Pooles to wash away th'abuses
That had thy sister soyld, who void of law and shame
Pleas'd onely to displease thy King and scorne his name.
Now lost is all the land. Now Nereus hath no shore;
Into the watry waste the riuers run no more;
Themselues are all a Meere, and all the sundry Meeres
That were before, are one: This All naught else appeares
But as a mighty Poole, and as it would conuent
And ioyne flood with the floods aboue the firmament.
The Sturgeon mounting ore high Castles is abasht
To see so many townes all vnder water dasht.
The Secalues and the Seales now wand'r about the rocks,
Where late of bearded goats, were fed the iumping flocks.
Camoysed Dolphins haunt the place of birds, and browse
Vpon the hugest hils, the tallest Cedar browes.
A Greyhound or a Tygre, a Horse, a Haire, a Hinde,
It little auailes them now to run as wight as winde.
They swin and try to stand, and all but little auailes them;
The more they footing seeke (alas) the more it failes them.
The cruell Crocodile, the Tortesse and the Beuer
Haue now but wet aboad that wet and dry had euer.
The Wolfe swims with the Lambe, the Lyon with the Deere,
And neither other frayes; the Hawke and Swallow steere
About with weary wings against a certaine death,
At length for want of perch in fierce waue loose their breath.
Where late of bearded goats, were fed the iumping flocks.
Camoysed Dolphins haunt the place of birds, and browse
Vpon the hugest hils, the tallest Cedar browes.
A Greyhound or a Tygre, a Horse, a Haire, a Hinde,
It little auailes them now to run as wight as winde.
They swin and try to stand, and all but little auailes them;
The more they footing seeke (alas) the more it failes them.
The cruell Crocodile, the Tortesse and the Beuer
Haue now but wet aboad that wet and dry had euer.
The Wolfe swims with the Lambe, the Lyon with the Deere,
And neither other frayes; the Hawke and Swallow steere
About with weary wings against a certaine death,
At length for want of perch in fierce waue loose their breath.
But miserable men, how fare they? thinke one treads
On point of highest hill, anoth'r on turret-leads;
Another in Cedars top bestirs him hand and foot
To gaine of all the boughes the farthest from the root.
But (ô alas) the Flood, ascending as doe they,
Surmounteth euery head, whereas it makes a stay.
Behold then some their liues to floting plankes commit,
And some in troughes, and some in coffers tottring sit:
One halfe asleepe perceiues the wat'r away to iogge
His bed and life at once, another (like a frog)
Casts out his hands and feet in equall bredth and time,
And striuing still with head aboue the flood to clime,
Sees nere him how before it newly drownd his brother,
His only child, his wife, his father, and his mother:
At length his weary limbes, no longer fit to scull,
Vnto the mercy yeeld of wat'r vnmercifull.
All, all now goes to wracke; yet Fates and deadly seare,
That earst with hundred kindes of weapons armed were
To spoile the fairest things, now only by the force
And foamy sway of Sea make all the world a corse;
Meane while the Patriarch, who should the world refill,
Plowes vp the fallow-waue aboue the proudest hill;
And th'Arche on dapled backe of th'ocean swoln with pride,
Without or mast or oare doth all in safety ride,
Or ankers ankerlesse, although from hav'n so farre:
For God her pylot was, her compasse and her starre.
A hundred fiftie daies in generall profound
Thus is the world ywrackt; and during all the flound
On point of highest hill, anoth'r on turret-leads;
Another in Cedars top bestirs him hand and foot
To gaine of all the boughes the farthest from the root.
But (ô alas) the Flood, ascending as doe they,
Surmounteth euery head, whereas it makes a stay.
Behold then some their liues to floting plankes commit,
And some in troughes, and some in coffers tottring sit:
One halfe asleepe perceiues the wat'r away to iogge
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Casts out his hands and feet in equall bredth and time,
And striuing still with head aboue the flood to clime,
Sees nere him how before it newly drownd his brother,
His only child, his wife, his father, and his mother:
At length his weary limbes, no longer fit to scull,
Vnto the mercy yeeld of wat'r vnmercifull.
All, all now goes to wracke; yet Fates and deadly seare,
That earst with hundred kindes of weapons armed were
To spoile the fairest things, now only by the force
And foamy sway of Sea make all the world a corse;
Meane while the Patriarch, who should the world refill,
Plowes vp the fallow-waue aboue the proudest hill;
And th'Arche on dapled backe of th'ocean swoln with pride,
Without or mast or oare doth all in safety ride,
Or ankers ankerlesse, although from hav'n so farre:
For God her pylot was, her compasse and her starre.
A hundred fiftie daies in generall profound
Thus is the world ywrackt; and during all the flound
Good Noe abridgeth not the space of night or day,
Nor puts-off irksomnesse with vaine discourse or play;
But as in dog-day seas'n a raine shed west-by-south,
When Earth desires to drink & thirst hath parcht her mouth,
Reflowreth euery stalke, regreeneth all the field,
That sunne and southerne wind with drought before had peild:
So from his pleafull tongue falls cheering dew and aire,
R'alliuing all his house and beating downe despaire.
And thus he washt their face and wyp'd away their teares,
And raised vp their heart opprest with vgly feares.
Good cheere (my lads) quoth he, the Lord will soone rebinde
And up the murdring Seas, which his fierce angers winde
Hath whirled ore the world; and as his ang'r (I finde)
Hath armed Sea and Aire and Heau'n against our kinde;
So shall sure, er't be long, his mercy more renownd
Cleare heau'n, vnghust this ayre, & bring the Seas to bound.
Still follow one anoth'r his Anger and his Grace.
His anger lightning-like it stay's not long in place:
But th'other vnder wing it broodeth as an Hen,
The manifold descents of faithfull-hearted men.
The Lord, the gracious Lord, bestowes his wroth by waight,
And neuer waighes his grace; he whips vs & throwes straight
His rod into the fire; wer't on our body laid,
Or soule, or childe, or goods; he makes vs only afraid
With fingers tyck, and strikes not with his mightfull arme.
More often thunders he, then shoots a blasting harme.
And, wise-housholder-like, giues them that bend him knees
His angers wholsome wine, and enemies the lees.
Nor puts-off irksomnesse with vaine discourse or play;
But as in dog-day seas'n a raine shed west-by-south,
When Earth desires to drink & thirst hath parcht her mouth,
Reflowreth euery stalke, regreeneth all the field,
That sunne and southerne wind with drought before had peild:
So from his pleafull tongue falls cheering dew and aire,
R'alliuing all his house and beating downe despaire.
And thus he washt their face and wyp'd away their teares,
And raised vp their heart opprest with vgly feares.
Good cheere (my lads) quoth he, the Lord will soone rebinde
And up the murdring Seas, which his fierce angers winde
Hath whirled ore the world; and as his ang'r (I finde)
Hath armed Sea and Aire and Heau'n against our kinde;
So shall sure, er't be long, his mercy more renownd
Cleare heau'n, vnghust this ayre, & bring the Seas to bound.
Still follow one anoth'r his Anger and his Grace.
His anger lightning-like it stay's not long in place:
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The manifold descents of faithfull-hearted men.
The Lord, the gracious Lord, bestowes his wroth by waight,
And neuer waighes his grace; he whips vs & throwes straight
His rod into the fire; wer't on our body laid,
Or soule, or childe, or goods; he makes vs only afraid
With fingers tyck, and strikes not with his mightfull arme.
More often thunders he, then shoots a blasting harme.
And, wise-housholder-like, giues them that bend him knees
His angers wholsome wine, and enemies the lees.
This wise, that holy man, sire of the second age,
Discourseth on the praise of Gods both loue and rage.
Discourseth on the praise of Gods both loue and rage.
But Cham in whose foule heart blind roots were lately sone
Of godlesse vnbeleefe; that thought ere this t'vnthrone
The mighty God of heau'n, and beare the scept'r himselfe:
To hold in Africke sands, with helpe of hellish Elfe,
By name of Hammon Ioue, some temple stately built,
Where, as a God, he might haue Altars bloudy-guilt:
With anger-bended brow, and count'nance ill apaid
Thus in disdainfull tone his father checkd; and said,
Of godlesse vnbeleefe; that thought ere this t'vnthrone
The mighty God of heau'n, and beare the scept'r himselfe:
To hold in Africke sands, with helpe of hellish Elfe,
By name of Hammon Ioue, some temple stately built,
Where, as a God, he might haue Altars bloudy-guilt:
With anger-bended brow, and count'nance ill apaid
Thus in disdainfull tone his father checkd; and said,
Fie fath'r, I am asham'd to see on you lay hold
These slauish thoughts, that seize base minds and flie the bold.
This fained angry Iudge thus alway will you feare?
As peyzing words and thoughts, and counting euery heare?
A Censour faine you still that beares in hand the keyes
Of yours and euery heart; to search out when he please
Yours, and all hidden thoughts; yea all your sighs t'enroule,
And present faults and past together to controule?
That ayming at your necke with bloud-embrued knife
Is hangman-like at hand to cut the strings of life?
Alas perceiue you not how this hood-winked zeale
These slauish thoughts, that seize base minds and flie the bold.
This fained angry Iudge thus alway will you feare?
As peyzing words and thoughts, and counting euery heare?
A Censour faine you still that beares in hand the keyes
Of yours and euery heart; to search out when he please
Yours, and all hidden thoughts; yea all your sighs t'enroule,
And present faults and past together to controule?
That ayming at your necke with bloud-embrued knife
Is hangman-like at hand to cut the strings of life?
And superstitious heat (to reason I appeale)
Makes errours many and foule your wits bright lampe to smother?
How light beleefe you driues from one extreame t'another?
You make a thousand qualmes your great Gods heart to strike:
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Let any sinner weepe, his tender heart will melt;
As if a wretches harme the great Commander felt:
He sees no drop of bloud, but (ere we know what ailes him)
Swoons, and in manly brest his female courage failes him:
And yet you make him fierce, and suffring oft the sway
And foamy streame of wroth to beare his reason away:
With heart of sauage Beare in manly shape he freats;
He rages then, he roares, he thunders out his threats.
Thus if your naile but ake, your God puts fing'r ith'eye;
Againe he kills, burnes, drownes, all for as light a why.
A wilde Boares tusked rage but only one forrest harries,
A Tyrant but a Realme; when angers tempest carries
Your God against the world with such a spightfull ghust,
As if his Realme of All should out of All be thrust.
Here's Iustice! here's good Right! (what other can ensue it?)
Some one or two perhaps haue sinn'd, and all doe rue it.
Nay, nay, his venging hand (alacke) for our offence
Destroys the very beasts for all their innocence.
O fath'r it cannot be that God's so passionate;
So soone in diuers fits, peace and warre, loue and hate:
Or so giu'n to reuenge, that he for one default
Should hurt his owne estate, and bring the world to naught.
The many watrie mists, the many floating clowds,
That heau'n hath stored vp and long kept vnder shrowds,
By selfe-waight enterprest and loosned of their bands,
Now gush out all at once, and ouer-flow the lands.
Then Aire amightie deale that vnder looser ground
(As thinne it is) a way by secret leaking found,
And lay in wind-shot hilles, by cold turn'd crystall waue,
At first well'd vp the skie, then downward gan to raue,
And drownd the corny rankes; at length so sweld and wox,
It pass'd the green-lock heads of tallest vpland okes.
It pass'd the green-lock heads of tallest vpland okes.
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By this the father gauld with griefe and godly smart,
A long sigh yexed-out from deepe cent'r of his heart.
And, ha vile Cam, quoth he, head of disloyall race,
Discomfort of myne age, my houses soule disgrace,
Vndon th'art, and deceiu'd, thy sence is growne vnsownd
By trusting to thy felfe without the Spirits ground.
And sure I feare (but o! God let me proue a lyar)
I feare with heauie hand the lofty-thundring Syre
Will blast thy godlesse head, and at thee shall be floong
His angers fierie darts: that, as thy shamelesse toong
With bould and brasen face presumes now to deny him,
Thy miserable estate in time to come may trie him.
A long sigh yexed-out from deepe cent'r of his heart.
And, ha vile Cam, quoth he, head of disloyall race,
Discomfort of myne age, my houses soule disgrace,
Vndon th'art, and deceiu'd, thy sence is growne vnsownd
By trusting to thy felfe without the Spirits ground.
And sure I feare (but o! God let me proue a lyar)
I feare with heauie hand the lofty-thundring Syre
Will blast thy godlesse head, and at thee shall be floong
His angers fierie darts: that, as thy shamelesse toong
With bould and brasen face presumes now to deny him,
Thy miserable estate in time to come may trie him.
I know (and God be thankt) this Circle all whole & sound,
Whose cent'r hath place in all, as ou'r all go'th his round,
This onely being power, feeles not within his mind
A thousand diuers fits driu'n with a counter-wind;
He mooues All yet vnmooud, yea onely with a thought
Works-vp the frame of Heau'n, and pulls downe what he wrought.
I know his throne is built amids a flaming fire,
To which none other can (but only of grace) aspire.
For breathlesse is our breath, and ghostlesse is our ghost,
When his vnbounded might in circl 'he list to coast.
I know, I know, his face how bright it thorow shines
The double winged maske of glorious Cherubines.
That Holy, Almightie, Great, but on his backe behinde,
None euer saw, and then he passed like a winde.
The step-tracke of his feet is more then meruellable,
His Being vncomprisd, his name vnutterable:
That we who dwell on earth, so low thrust from the skie,
Do neuer speake of God but all vnproperly.
For, call him happie Ghost, ye grant him not an ase,
Aboue an Angells right: say Strong, and that's more base:
Say Greatest of all Great, he's void of quantitie:
Say Good, Faire, Holy one; he's void of qualitie.
Of his diuine estate the full accomplishment
Is meere substantiall, and takes not accident.
And that's the cause our tongue in such a loftie subiect
Attaining not the minde, more then the minde her obiect,
Doth lispe at euery word, and wanting eloquence
When talke it would of God with greatest reuerence,
By Manly-sufferance it hath him Jealous nam'd,
Repenting, pitifull, and with iust ang'r enflam'd.
Whose cent'r hath place in all, as ou'r all go'th his round,
This onely being power, feeles not within his mind
A thousand diuers fits driu'n with a counter-wind;
He mooues All yet vnmooud, yea onely with a thought
Works-vp the frame of Heau'n, and pulls downe what he wrought.
I know his throne is built amids a flaming fire,
To which none other can (but only of grace) aspire.
For breathlesse is our breath, and ghostlesse is our ghost,
When his vnbounded might in circl 'he list to coast.
I know, I know, his face how bright it thorow shines
The double winged maske of glorious Cherubines.
That Holy, Almightie, Great, but on his backe behinde,
None euer saw, and then he passed like a winde.
The step-tracke of his feet is more then meruellable,
His Being vncomprisd, his name vnutterable:
That we who dwell on earth, so low thrust from the skie,
Do neuer speake of God but all vnproperly.
For, call him happie Ghost, ye grant him not an ase,
Aboue an Angells right: say Strong, and that's more base:
Say Greatest of all Great, he's void of quantitie:
Say Good, Faire, Holy one; he's void of qualitie.
Of his diuine estate the full accomplishment
Is meere substantiall, and takes not accident.
And that's the cause our tongue in such a loftie subiect
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Doth lispe at euery word, and wanting eloquence
When talke it would of God with greatest reuerence,
By Manly-sufferance it hath him Jealous nam'd,
Repenting, pitifull, and with iust ang'r enflam'd.
Repentance yet in God emplies not, as in vs,
Misdome or ignorance; nor is he enuious
For all his Iealosie; his pitie cannot set him
In miserable estate; his anger cannot fret him.
Calme and in quiet is the Spirit of the Lord:
And looke what goodly worke fraile man could ere afford,
Thrust headlong on with heat of any raging passion,
The Lord it workes, and all with ripe consideration.
Misdome or ignorance; nor is he enuious
For all his Iealosie; his pitie cannot set him
In miserable estate; his anger cannot fret him.
Calme and in quiet is the Spirit of the Lord:
And looke what goodly worke fraile man could ere afford,
Thrust headlong on with heat of any raging passion,
The Lord it workes, and all with ripe consideration.
What? shall the Leach behold without a weeping eye,
Without a change of looke, without a swoone or cry,
The struggling of his friend with many sorts of paine;
And feele his fainting pulse, and make him whole againe:
And shall not God that was, and is, and shall be th'same,
On miserable man looke downe from heau'nly frame,
Without a fit of griefe, without a wofull crie;
Nor heale infirmities without infirmitie?
Or shall a Iudge condemne, without all angers sting,
The strange adulterer to shamefull suffering;
As aiming sharpe reuenge and setting his entence
Not on the sinn'r at all, but on the sole offence;
And shall the fancie of man so binde the will of God,
He may not lift his arme and iust reuenging rod
Without some fury against a theefe or Athean?Without a change of looke, without a swoone or cry,
The struggling of his friend with many sorts of paine;
And feele his fainting pulse, and make him whole againe:
And shall not God that was, and is, and shall be th'same,
On miserable man looke downe from heau'nly frame,
Without a fit of griefe, without a wofull crie;
Nor heale infirmities without infirmitie?
Or shall a Iudge condemne, without all angers sting,
The strange adulterer to shamefull suffering;
As aiming sharpe reuenge and setting his entence
Not on the sinn'r at all, but on the sole offence;
And shall the fancie of man so binde the will of God,
He may not lift his arme and iust reuenging rod
Or is't a vice in God, that's held a vertue in man?
And cannot God abhorre a sinne abominable,
But of some sinne himselfe he must be censurable?
He alwaies one-the same ne're takes vp armes to guard him
Or his estate from hurt, as if some treason skard him;
Whose campe is pight in heau'n beyond reach of our shot,
And fens'd with Diman wals, this, that-way; which way not?
But eu'n to guid our liues, to maintaine righteousnesse,
T'establish wholesome lawes, and bridle vnrulinesse.
And cannot God abhorre a sinne abominable,
But of some sinne himselfe he must be censurable?
He alwaies one-the same ne're takes vp armes to guard him
Or his estate from hurt, as if some treason skard him;
Whose campe is pight in heau'n beyond reach of our shot,
And fens'd with Diman wals, this, that-way; which way not?
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T'establish wholesome lawes, and bridle vnrulinesse.
Nor yet by drowning thus ny-all the world in flood,
Go'th he beyond the bounds of reason in his mood.
For Adam, who the root was of this world and th'other,
Shot-forth a forked stocke, of Cain, and Seth, his brother,
Two ranke and plentious armes; the first a wylding bore,
Disrelisht, verdourlesse, but in aboundant store.
Good fruit on th'other grew; yet graff'd it was ere long
With thossame bastard ympes, and thereof quickly sprong
What lawlesse match begot. Then where, on all this round,
Could any right, or good, or innocence be found?
For Sinne, that was the right inheritance for Cain,
To Seths posteritie was giuen in dow'r againe
With daughter-heires of Cain: so were defiled then
The dearest groomes of God by marrying brides of men.
Yea we, we, that escape this cruell influence,
A million witnesses beare in our conscience,
Which all, and each alike vpon our guilt accords;
Nor haue we any excuse before the Lord of Lords.
Go'th he beyond the bounds of reason in his mood.
For Adam, who the root was of this world and th'other,
Shot-forth a forked stocke, of Cain, and Seth, his brother,
Two ranke and plentious armes; the first a wylding bore,
Disrelisht, verdourlesse, but in aboundant store.
Good fruit on th'other grew; yet graff'd it was ere long
With thossame bastard ympes, and thereof quickly sprong
What lawlesse match begot. Then where, on all this round,
Could any right, or good, or innocence be found?
For Sinne, that was the right inheritance for Cain,
To Seths posteritie was giuen in dow'r againe
With daughter-heires of Cain: so were defiled then
The dearest groomes of God by marrying brides of men.
Yea we, we, that escape this cruell influence,
A million witnesses beare in our conscience,
Which all, and each alike vpon our guilt accords;
Nor haue we any excuse before the Lord of Lords.
Who deales not tyrant-like to whelme in wauy brees
The beast that goes on foot, and all on wing that flees:
Because for mans behoofe they were created all;
And he that should them vse is blotted by his fall
From out the Booke of life: and why then should they stay
When he, for whom they were, is iustly tak'n away?
The beast that goes on foot, and all on wing that flees:
Because for mans behoofe they were created all;
And he that should them vse is blotted by his fall
From out the Booke of life: and why then should they stay
When he, for whom they were, is iustly tak'n away?
Man is the head of all that drawes the breath of life.
Let one a member loose, he liueth yet; but if
A deadly sword the head from bodies troonke diuide,
How can there any life in leg or arme abide?
Let one a member loose, he liueth yet; but if
A deadly sword the head from bodies troonke diuide,
How can there any life in leg or arme abide?
But haply God's to feirce that hath the land orewheld.
Yea? had so many yeares disloiall man rebeld
Against the Lord his King, and had the Lord no reason
To rase the traitours house for such high points of treason?
To sow salt on the same, and mak't a monument
That his diuine reuenge, not Sea or Aire hath sent
This rauing water-Masse?
Yea? had so many yeares disloiall man rebeld
Against the Lord his King, and had the Lord no reason
To rase the traitours house for such high points of treason?
To sow salt on the same, and mak't a monument
18
This rauing water-Masse?
Let all the clowdie weather
That round-encourtaines Earth be gathered thicke together
From either cope of Heau'n, and bee't all powred downe
In place what e're, it would but some one countrie drowne:
That round-encourtaines Earth be gathered thicke together
From either cope of Heau'n, and bee't all powred downe
In place what e're, it would but some one countrie drowne:
But this our sauing ship, by floating euery where,
Now vnd'r a Southern Crosse, now vnd'r a Northen Beare,
And thwarting all this while so many a diuers Clime,
Shewes all the world is wrapt in generall abysme.
Now vnd'r a Southern Crosse, now vnd'r a Northen Beare,
And thwarting all this while so many a diuers Clime,
Shewes all the world is wrapt in generall abysme.
But if thou, vanquisht here, to caues in earth do flie,
With floods there made of Aire thy forces to supplie:
What are those hills, and where, with caues so deep & wide,
To hold-in so much ayre, as into water tri'de,
Might heale the proudest heights; when hardly a violl's fil'd
With water drop by drop of ten-fould aire dystil'd?
With floods there made of Aire thy forces to supplie:
What are those hills, and where, with caues so deep & wide,
To hold-in so much ayre, as into water tri'de,
Might heale the proudest heights; when hardly a violl's fil'd
With water drop by drop of ten-fould aire dystil'd?
Besides, when th'aire to drops of water melts apace,
And lesned fals to spring, what bodie filles the place?
For no where in this all is found roome bodilesse:
Sad waue will sooner mount, and light aire downward presse.
And lesned fals to spring, what bodie filles the place?
For no where in this all is found roome bodilesse:
Sad waue will sooner mount, and light aire downward presse.
Then how (thou'lt aske me) come these huge and raging floods,
That spoile on Riphean hils the Boree-shakē woods,
Drowne Libanus, and shew their enuious desires
To quench with tost-vp waue the highest heau'nly fires?
Ile aske thee (Cham;) how Wolues & Panthers from ye Wild
At time by Heau'n design'd before me came so mild.
How I keepe vnder yoke so many a fierce captiue,
That spoile on Riphean hils the Boree-shakē woods,
Drowne Libanus, and shew their enuious desires
To quench with tost-vp waue the highest heau'nly fires?
Ile aske thee (Cham;) how Wolues & Panthers from ye Wild
At time by Heau'n design'd before me came so mild.
Restored as I were to th'high prerogatiue
From whence fath'r Adam fell! how wild foule neuer mand
From euery coast of Heau'n came flying to my hand!
19
Is with so little meat, or drinke, or stouer fed!
Nor feares the Partridge here the Falcons beake & pounces;
Nor shuns the light-foot Hare a Tygers looke or Ounces!
How th'Arch holds-out so long against the wauy shot!
How th'aire so close, the breath and dong it choaks vs not
Confused as it is! and that we find no roome
For life in all the world, but as it were in toombe!
Ther's not so many planks, or boords, or nailes i'th' arch
As holy myracles, and wonders; which to marke,
Astonnes the wit of man. God shew'th as well his might
By thus preseruing all, as bringing all to light.
O holy Syre, appease, appease thy wroth and land
As holy myracles, and wonders; which to marke,
Astonnes the wit of man. God shew'th as well his might
By thus preseruing all, as bringing all to light.
In hau'n our Sea-beat ship; ô knit the waters band;
That we may sing-of now, and ours in after age,
Thy mercie shew'd on vs, as on the rest thy rage.
24
Of irkesome prisonment with such like gentle charme,
His hope was onely in God, who stopping now the vaines,
Whence issued-out before so many wells and raines,
Chidde th'aire, and bid her shut the flood-gate of her seas;
And sent North-windes abroad; go ye (quoth he) and ease
The Land of all this ill, ye cooling fannes of Heau'n,
Earths broomes and warre of woods, my herauts, posts, and eau'n
My sinnows and mine armes; ye birds that hale so lightly
My charriot ore the world, when as in cloud so nightly
With blasting scept'r in hand I, thundring rage and ire,
From smoaky flamed mouth breathe sulph'r and coles of fire.
Awake (I say) make hast, and soop the wat'r away,
That hides the Land from Heau'n, & robs the world of day.
That hides the Land from Heau'n, & robs the world of day.
The winds obey his voice, the flood beginnes t'abate,
The Sea retireth backe, And th'Arch in Ararate
Lands on a mountains head, that seem'd to threat the skie,
And troad downe vnd'r his feet a thousand hills full high.
The Sea retireth backe, And th'Arch in Ararate
Lands on a mountains head, that seem'd to threat the skie,
And troad downe vnd'r his feet a thousand hills full high.
Now Noes heart reioic'd with sweet conceit of hope,
And for the Rau'n to flie he sets a casement ope.
To find some resting place the bird soares round-about;
And finding none, returnes to him that sent her out:
Who few daies after sends the Doue, another spie,
That also came againe, because she found no drie.
And for the Rau'n to flie he sets a casement ope.
To find some resting place the bird soares round-about;
And finding none, returnes to him that sent her out:
Who few daies after sends the Doue, another spie,
That also came againe, because she found no drie.
But after senights rest, he sends her out againe,
To search if my Land yet peer'd aboue the maine;
Behold an Oliue branch she brings at length in beake:
To search if my Land yet peer'd aboue the maine;
Behold an Oliue branch she brings at length in beake:
25
Then thus the Patriarch with ioy began to speake.
O happie signe! o newes, the best that could be thought!
O mysterie most-desir'd! Io, the Doue hath brought,
The gentle Doue hath brought a peacefull Oliue-bough:
God makes a truce with vs, and so sure sealeth now
The patent of his Loue and heau'nly promises,
That sooner shall we see the Tyger furylesse,
The Lyon fight in feare, the Leuret waxen bold,
Then him against our hope his woonted grace with-hold.
O first fruit of the world! O holy Oliue-tree!
O saufty-boading branch! for wheth'r aliue thou be
And wert all while the flood destroyd all else, I ioy
That all is not destroyd: or if, since all th'anoy,
That waters brought on all, so soone thou did'st rebudde,
I wonder at the Lord that is so mightie and good:
To r'alliue euery plant, and in so short a space
Cloath all the world anew in liueries of his grace.
O happie signe! o newes, the best that could be thought!
O mysterie most-desir'd! Io, the Doue hath brought,
The gentle Doue hath brought a peacefull Oliue-bough:
God makes a truce with vs, and so sure sealeth now
The patent of his Loue and heau'nly promises,
That sooner shall we see the Tyger furylesse,
The Lyon fight in feare, the Leuret waxen bold,
Then him against our hope his woonted grace with-hold.
O first fruit of the world! O holy Oliue-tree!
O saufty-boading branch! for wheth'r aliue thou be
And wert all while the flood destroyd all else, I ioy
That all is not destroyd: or if, since all th'anoy,
That waters brought on all, so soone thou did'st rebudde,
I wonder at the Lord that is so mightie and good:
To r'alliue euery plant, and in so short a space
Cloath all the world anew in liueries of his grace.
So said he: yet (although the flood had so reflowd,
That all about appeerd some Islets thinly strew'd,
Him offring where to rest: although he spied a bright,
And cheerefull day amid his age-encreasing night:
Although th'infected ayre of such a nastie stall
Ny choakt him) would he not come forth before the call
Of God that sent him in: before some thunder-steauen
For warrant of his act gaue Oracle from Heauen.
That all about appeerd some Islets thinly strew'd,
Him offring where to rest: although he spied a bright,
And cheerefull day amid his age-encreasing night:
Although th'infected ayre of such a nastie stall
Ny choakt him) would he not come forth before the call
Of God that sent him in: before some thunder-steauen
For warrant of his act gaue Oracle from Heauen.
No sooner spake the Lord, but he comes out of Cell,
Or rath'r out of dennes, of some infectious Hell,
With Sem, Cham, and Iaphet, his wife and daughters three,
And all the kinds of Bruits that pure or impure be,
Of hundred hundred shapes: for th'holy Patriarch
Had some of euery sort enclosd with him i'th' Arch.
Or rath'r out of dennes, of some infectious Hell,
With Sem, Cham, and Iaphet, his wife and daughters three,
And all the kinds of Bruits that pure or impure be,
Of hundred hundred shapes: for th'holy Patriarch
Had some of euery sort enclosd with him i'th' Arch.
27
That durst ere now no more thē whisper each oth'r 'ith' eare.
Who but a foole (say they) will thinke a ship so small,
A hundred fiftie long, and thirtie cubits tall,
And fiftie broad, can hold so many months a charge
So combersome and huge? when as the Snout-horne large,
28
They and their fodder stuffe the greatest Carack full.
O hellish-blasphemie if of vnlawfull matches
Sproong since a world of beasts, that were not vnder hatches
In that same floating parke, a many diuers kinds
Of Cockes, of Doues, of Haukes, of Dogs, of Cats, of Hinds,
Pyde Leopards, giddie Mules, and such as daily increase
By linsiewoolsie loue t'a sundrie-seeming spece:
A thing wherein we find dame Nature hath delight,
And euer had to shew her cunning and her might:
Nay if I plainely proue, with measure foot by foot,
That in so large an hulke they might all well be shut,
So cunningly deuisd and so proportionall,
(Sith euery cubits length was Geometricall)
What Momus can replie? if reason go for pay
Among the mad, who stand against the Lord in ray.
But let me rath'r admire, then bring into dispute
The thrice-Almighties might; and here let flesh be mute.
What he hath said is doon, I build thereon my creede;
For all is one with him, the saying and the deede.
So brought his arme alone from-out the iawes of Hell,
The skarr'd inhabitants of that same floating Cell:
Who now a peace-offering deuoutly sacrifise,
And from his Alter make perfumes to Heau'n arise
Of purer kinded beasts, and therewithall let flie
Zele-winged, heartie prayers; and thus aloud they crie.
30
O Father, King of winds, world-shaking, taming-seas,
O God, with gratious eye behold vs, and appease
The billowes of thy wroth: these planchers hardly sau'n,
Of such a piteous wracke, O bring at length to hau'n:
And once for eu'r againe pen-vp i' th' ancient bounds
The breezy Seas mad sway, that yet the land surrounds.
O God, with gratious eye behold vs, and appease
The billowes of thy wroth: these planchers hardly sau'n,
Of such a piteous wracke, O bring at length to hau'n:
31
The breezy Seas mad sway, that yet the land surrounds.
Th'Eternall heard their voice, and bid his Triton sound
Retreate vnto the flood; then waue by waue to bound
The waters hast away; all riuers know their bankes,
And Seas their wonted shore; hils grow with swelling flanks;
Vpon the tufted woods appeare the slimie webbes;
And earth it seemes to flow as fast as water ebbes.
So did the Lord againe with mercy-might-full hand
Shew vnto Land the Heau'n, and vnto Heau'n the Land.
Then blest he man, and all, and said againe, Go breede,
Retreate vnto the flood; then waue by waue to bound
The waters hast away; all riuers know their bankes,
And Seas their wonted shore; hils grow with swelling flanks;
Vpon the tufted woods appeare the slimie webbes;
And earth it seemes to flow as fast as water ebbes.
So did the Lord againe with mercy-might-full hand
Shew vnto Land the Heau'n, and vnto Heau'n the Land.
And ouerswarme the world with fast-encreasing seede:
R'enhand your Princely Mace, rule, and hold hard againe
The wildest of the beasts, that erst had got the raine.
Commaund all as before, take, vse, and kill for food:
But this, beware (my sonnes) you eat no flesh in blood,
The life thereof, beware; vnto the rau'ning foule
The strangled carcasse leaue, you of so heau'nly soule.
I hate the man of blood, be holy, as am I.
Shun all blood-thirstinesse, but more especially
Regard a brothers life, and do not rase in man
The likenesse of your God: my soule doth curse and ban,
And euer shall pursue with stormie ghust of hate,
And strike with murdering hand the murdrer soone or late.
32
The world shall ne'r againe be ouerflow'n, I sweare,
I sweare eu'n by my selfe (and when broake I myne oath?)
Yet for a seale and more assurance of the troath,
Behold I set my bow vpon the cloud of raine:
That, when long season wet the world shall threat'n againe;
When th'aire all cloudie-thick at noone shal bring you night;
And heau'n orelaid with raine shall on your hills alight;
Ye may reioice to see my seale so eue'nly bow'd:
For, though't imprinted be vpon a misly clowd,
Though albeset with raine, and though it seeme to call
The waues of all the sea to drowne the world withall;
Yet at the sight thereof, in all your sore distresse,
Ye shall remember me, and I my promises.
That, when long season wet the world shall threat'n againe;
When th'aire all cloudie-thick at noone shal bring you night;
And heau'n orelaid with raine shall on your hills alight;
Ye may reioice to see my seale so eue'nly bow'd:
For, though't imprinted be vpon a misly clowd,
Though albeset with raine, and though it seeme to call
The waues of all the sea to drowne the world withall;
Yet at the sight thereof, in all your sore distresse,
Ye shall remember me, and I my promises.
Then Noe cast-vp eye, and wondred to behold
A demy-circl' ith'aire of colours manifold,
That brightly shining-out, and heauing-vp to heau'n
Hath for Dyameter a line estrained eau'n
Betwixt both Horizons; a goodly bow to see
And comming all alike; nay one bow made of three,
A yellow, a greene, a blew; and yet blew, yellow, greene,
But dapled each with oth'r in neith'r is to be seene.
A bow that shines aloft in Thunder-shooters hand,
A demy-circl' ith'aire of colours manifold,
That brightly shining-out, and heauing-vp to heau'n
Hath for Dyameter a line estrained eau'n
Betwixt both Horizons; a goodly bow to see
And comming all alike; nay one bow made of three,
A yellow, a greene, a blew; and yet blew, yellow, greene,
But dapled each with oth'r in neith'r is to be seene.
That halfe-diuides the heau'n, and laies on face of land
(As twere) her fine spunne string; and bending ore the rocks
Against a misly Sun i'th' Ocean dips her nockes:
The short enduring grace of Heau'ns enflamed blewes,
Whereon dame Nature layes her most-quicke-lustred hewes.
But if thou doe perceiue no more then blew and red,
Take them for Sacraments, as if they figured
The Water and the Fire; whereof th'one hath of yore,
And th'other at latter day shall all the world deuore.
33
All holy rites performd, our gransire Noe ne will
That idlenesse and ease benome his armes, and kill
His muskles vnexersd; but hies-him to the field,
And wisely takes in hand the worke he learnd a child.
That idlenesse and ease benome his armes, and kill
His muskles vnexersd; but hies-him to the field,
And wisely takes in hand the worke he learnd a child.
For all the tyran-stocke of brother-killing Cain,
More liking sinne with ease, then innocence with paine,
More liking sinne with ease, then innocence with paine,
Preferd a citie-life, to rule the peoples wills
With Scepters, arts, and lawes, before fields, woods, or hills.
Whereas the race of Seth, well knowing nature will
With little be suffic'd, began the ground to till
For holy exercise, and kept on dales and rockes
The lowing hairie heards, and bleating woolly flockes.
A praise-worth vsurie, gaine void of enuie and strife,
Art nourishing all Arts, and life maintaining life.
With Scepters, arts, and lawes, before fields, woods, or hills.
Whereas the race of Seth, well knowing nature will
With little be suffic'd, began the ground to till
For holy exercise, and kept on dales and rockes
The lowing hairie heards, and bleating woolly flockes.
A praise-worth vsurie, gaine void of enuie and strife,
Art nourishing all Arts, and life maintaining life.
No sooner had the Sunne, grace of cœlestiall brands,
Dry'd with rebounding beame the water-soaken lands,
But he that kept in ship the worlds seed from a wracke,
Plowes vp with sweating brow his mothers fruitfull backe.
Then carefull is to plant a Nectar-bearing vine
Dry'd with rebounding beame the water-soaken lands,
But he that kept in ship the worlds seed from a wracke,
Plowes vp with sweating brow his mothers fruitfull backe.
34
There either sets he pots, or else a trench he diggs
To sow-in steed of grape, or quick set yonger twiggs.
The next ensuing March he hoes the vine and lops it,
He rubbes, he trims, he spreads, he prunes, and vnderprops it.
So fruitfull then it was, that far beyond his thought,
A haruest rich-of-wine the third Septemb'r it brought.
To sow-in steed of grape, or quick set yonger twiggs.
The next ensuing March he hoes the vine and lops it,
He rubbes, he trims, he spreads, he prunes, and vnderprops it.
So fruitfull then it was, that far beyond his thought,
A haruest rich-of-wine the third Septemb'r it brought.
Now Noe waxing old, and daily sad to see
So many towrs in mud, while none but his and he
Enhabited the world, to driue-of melancholie,
He tooke vpon a day more libertie then holy;
He quaffd and tripsie grew; he thought but for a season
To drowne his griefe in wine, and madly drownd his reason.
His tongue-strings ouerwet doe cause him lisp and stut;
So many towrs in mud, while none but his and he
Enhabited the world, to driue-of melancholie,
He tooke vpon a day more libertie then holy;
He quaffd and tripsie grew; he thought but for a season
To drowne his griefe in wine, and madly drownd his reason.
No word flies through his teeth, but witlesse, broke and cut:
His stomack ouer-laid with hot fume hurts his braine,
And rawly belcheth wind; his feet stumble on the plaine,
So heauy was his head; the place is turned round;
No longer can he stand, but sleepe him layes aground
Amid his open tent; there he now like a swine
His snoaring carren rowles embrewd with cast-vp-wine:
And albeside himselfe, not knowing what he did,
He naked layes the parts, that dying Cæsar hid.
Behold as carren crowes with fanny wings oreflie
The Manna-dropping woods of happy Arabie:
And reckning light the lawns and gardens of delight,
Whose ammell beds perfume the skie both day and night,
Seiz-on with glouton beaks, or rath'r anatomize
Some executed corse all-rotting as it lies:
Or as young Painters wont with bungling penecyll
Good features of a face to misse, and hit what's ill;
To draw with little heed what ere is faire to see,
35
A mole, a wart, a wen, a brow or lip too-fat,
Or else an eye too deep, or else a nose too flat:
So doe the spightfull sonnes of Satan prince of Hell
Spoonge with forgetfulnesse the shew of all that's well,
And biting lip thereat, cast venom of their eyes
Vpon the lightest faults of mens infirmities:
They laugh at others hurt, and sound through-out all ages
The very least escapes of greatest personages.
So shamelesse Cham beheld his drunken fathers shame,
It shew'd, and laught thereat, and made thereof a game.
Come (brothers) come, quoth he; loe he that oft controules
Each little fault in vs, how vp and downe he roules,
And spewing wine, his mast'r, at mouth, at eyes, at nose,
To all doth like a beast his priuitie disclose.
Ha dog, ha brazen face (good Sem and Iaphet said,
And with a clowdie brow iust discontent bewraid)
Ha monster vile, vnkinde, vnworthy of this light;
Thou shouldst thy selfe alone, though we were out of sight
Cast on thy mantle, or hide with silence at the least
Thy fathers fault, that, once in all his life, opprest
With griefe, wine, age, hath fal'n; and dost thou make a game
To bring his hoary head first on the stage of shame?
Thus rate they Cham, and then with fromward looke retire
To heale the nakednesse of their enyeared Sire.
To heale the nakednesse of their enyeared Sire.
Slept-out the surfet was, and he awoke at length,
And blushing knew his fault, and wondred at the strength
He found in blood of grape: then prickt with inward tine
He propheside, and said, Gods heauy curse and mine
Befall the race of Cham, let South, let East and West
For euer see them serue: but euermore be blest
Sems holy-chosen seed; be Canan slaue to them;
And Iaphet God perswade to dwell ith'tents of Sem:
So ended. O foule vice, errour, enormitie,
Nay voluntarie rage, distract, and phrenesie,
Not long, but dangerous! by thee, mad as a fiend,
Agave slew her sonne, and Alexand'r his friend.
Doth any burne in sinne? thou dost increase the fuell;
Thou mak'st the prater vaine, the hastie cutter cruell,
The vaunting insolent, th'angry tempestuous,
The wanton minde vnchast, th'vnchast incestuous:
Thou canst nor blush nor see, thou life in life destroy'st,
And holiest men of all with many faults accloy'st:
Yea, as the strong new-wine with boyling inshut heat
Cracks eu'n the newest hoopes, and makes the vessell sweat;
Turnes vpsedowne the lees, and froths-out at the vent
From bottom of the caske the setled excrement;
So thou vndo'st thine host, and rashly mak'st to flie
From bottom of his heart all matt'r of secresie.
Though no more to thy charge be laid, ô poyson vile,
And this were all thy fault, to bruten for a while
A vertue-teaching life, nay vertue-selfe; I sweare
Man ought thee more then face of ghastly death to feare.
And blushing knew his fault, and wondred at the strength
He found in blood of grape: then prickt with inward tine
He propheside, and said, Gods heauy curse and mine
Befall the race of Cham, let South, let East and West
36
Sems holy-chosen seed; be Canan slaue to them;
And Iaphet God perswade to dwell ith'tents of Sem:
So ended. O foule vice, errour, enormitie,
Nay voluntarie rage, distract, and phrenesie,
Not long, but dangerous! by thee, mad as a fiend,
Agave slew her sonne, and Alexand'r his friend.
Doth any burne in sinne? thou dost increase the fuell;
Thou mak'st the prater vaine, the hastie cutter cruell,
The vaunting insolent, th'angry tempestuous,
The wanton minde vnchast, th'vnchast incestuous:
Thou canst nor blush nor see, thou life in life destroy'st,
And holiest men of all with many faults accloy'st:
Yea, as the strong new-wine with boyling inshut heat
Cracks eu'n the newest hoopes, and makes the vessell sweat;
Turnes vpsedowne the lees, and froths-out at the vent
From bottom of the caske the setled excrement;
So thou vndo'st thine host, and rashly mak'st to flie
From bottom of his heart all matt'r of secresie.
Though no more to thy charge be laid, ô poyson vile,
And this were all thy fault, to bruten for a while
A vertue-teaching life, nay vertue-selfe; I sweare
Man ought thee more then face of ghastly death to feare.
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