University of Virginia Library

SEPHYRA.
Now I shall loose my wits. Preposterous fool,
Am I no neerer, all this while, my goal!
Still so unmov'd! no Songs but of constraint!
Come, 'tis enough, this is the old complaint.
Base is that mind that quiet peace disturbs,
To freedome that prefers enslaving curbs.
Withhold, thou cry'st, afflict, deny, restrain,
Force, over-rule, suppress, torment with pain,
Banish, nay kill out-right. Great Nile, what's here!
Unheard-of Prodigies by humane ear!
Ah slave, how well the ornament of chains
Befits thee, who delight'st in slavish pains!
But thou'dst enslave us too through sly advise;
Fool, didst thou then believe us so unwise?
My blood now rises into scornful spite,
To see thee in such follies take delight.
At once thou subject of all scorn and hate,
Methinks I in thy looks now read thy fate.
Fantastick fop, that tak'st delight in woe,
Besotted friend of Tears, soft pleasures foe,
Rebellious-minded soul, at rest in jars;
In peace as restless, friend to cruel wars.
Thou perfect Bugbear to refining love,
Who ominous against thy self dost prove;
Mankinds misfortune, in a hapless time
Who sure wast born, and in a fatal clime.
Thou neither must nor wilt, resolv'd thou ar
But unto what, thy riddle pray impart?
Forsooth, a strange conceit within thy mind
There is of lagging miseries behind.
Didst ever feel them, fool? who told thee so?
O grave Tradition, whether true or no.
But thou shalt feel them now; thy self then tell,
If greater this, or thy conceited Hell.
I'll now conclude, nor think that I'll regard
Compassion more; let death be thy reward,
Or happy life, as thou shalt yield, or chuse;
Yield to my passions, or that love refuse.
Fool, thou'rt too frail thy passions to defie
To a fierce conflict, or thy flesh deny.
Who with too rigid force his youth constrains,
Provokes his mind to break with-holding reyns.

Jos.
Since now you have been pleas'd with snaky guile,
As for the flesh to argue stiff some while,
I pray permit me then accordingly,
That for the Spirit I may make reply.

Seph.
No, Joseph, time will thus be spent in vain,
What I have said, I now repeat again;
To my request if thou no ear wilt give,
Thou shalt repent that thou on earth didst live.
Observe it well. Yet how can I believe
That Joseph should himself of Bliss bereave?
Sure if I'm right, more wit doth in him dwell,
And he'll be wise when he considers well.
Thus by these things thou mayst behold my heart,
How thou most truly there beloved art.
Accept my caution, Joseph, have a care;
Embrace thy fortune, and of woe beware.
That which by th'chiefest Nobles of the Land
Hath been pursu'd, now thou hast in thy hand;
What erewhiles Potiphar with doubtful fears,
With dangers long, with pains, with Lovers tears
Obtained at length, and that by wondrous hap,
That of its self now tumbles in thy lap,
Sues for thy favour, prest with restless fires,
Sports with thy Net, and to be caught desires,
Hangs on thy Neck, to thee flings up that dore
Through which our youth have sought to go before;
That craves thy aid, towards thee lo that wings,
Offers itself, about thee gently clings,
Not to become thy Wife, but Love; invites
Not unto Wedlocks yoak, but lusts delights.
Needs must thou be a stock devoyd of pleasure,
Empty of every amiable treasure,
Nay humane sense; and sure, if so, must then
Deserve exile from reasonable men.
If thy own happiness thou wilt forsake,
Nor wilt of these my choice delights partake,
Needs must thou be some stone, some sapless leaf,
Froward as seas, or than their banks more deaf,
Than Tops more whimsical, than hoary Ice
More nipping cold, and more than fools unwise.
But no, it cannot be, I shall prevail,
Nor longer thus my grief in vain bewail.
Whom do not courteous smiles move inwardly?
What heart can stand before a woeing eye?
What inclination is so strangely nice,
Whom ruby lips should not to kiss entice?
With whom don't mirth prevail, smooth-fac'd delight?
Whom tempt not dainties bless'd with appetite?
Who if to him I say, Thee 'tis I chuse,
So kind a Love yet basely can refuse?
Who can those arms, wherein he's straitly clasp'd,
(As like the Oak with clustering joy grasp'd)
Break loose with unkind force? Who can refuse
A beauteous Female for his Love that sues?
Well, I bave done, what's said shall now suffice;
And sure enough is said to make thee wise.
Lo, for a while thy sight I will suspend,
But instantly to come again intend.
Be no more fond; thy self that while advise
To take good warning, to beware, be wise.
I leave thee thy own judge, thou from thy choice
Thy self may'st sentence with unerring voice.

Exit.
JOSEPH alone.
Dear Soul, awaken, thou't become the game;
Against thy life is now this womans aim,
Swell'd with revenge. By her fierce looks appear,
And wild behaviour, what thou hast to fear.
She now her utmost valency assays,
To fright thee from all chast and pious ways;
To cool thy zeal, for which she doth produce
What to her Cause may seeming strength infuse.
Thee sometimes fain she would with lust possess:
Deny'd, her note then doth in threatnings dress.
One while with flatt'ry stroaks, then with constraint
Cruelly chases: alas, who can but faint
In such uncertain conflicts, and so strong,
Where from our self proceeds our greatest wrong!
With what a shew of reason does she dress
Her lustful Cause! nor equitable less
Does she in her unjustest force appear,
If we observe her with a carnal ear.
Alas, how Piety is still opprest,
And innocency of right dispossest!
The way we walk most, slippery is found,
Where a small trip deprones us on the ground.
Now am I baffled with uncertain things?
My heart, if crost, sinks low; if prosperous, wings
Above aspiring Hermon, more indeed
That bears than can from humane strength proceed.
This lustful Eve to me her fruit commends,
And with fair signs my observation bends
To guess the taste, whilst I its beauty view,
But 'tis sure death if I her end pursue:
And yet my flesh this danger will not see,
Though in the taste I know a death to be.
Our Father Adam so his wife believ'd
Before his God, and his dear Soul bereav'd
Of all its bliss. Ah! by his strength if he
Though perfect could not stand, how then shall we
The Off-spring of his Fall, in wavering ways
That are but constant, toss'd in evil days?
The world's a Sea, our strong Desires the Winds,
The Ship our Flesh, the swelling sails our minds.
So left, we drive, and when in straits we fall,
Scarce do we then find Ankors help at all:
When mighty waves advance, then fail our minds,
And yet behold more tempests, fiercer winds.
We whilst we rest pursue, but toyl acquire;
And what should quench our griefs, but feeds their fire
When my fierce thirst to cool I do intend,
Enraged fires then lo my inwards rend.
My carnal gust in that great sweet doth find,
Which yet as Wormwood tasts unto my mind.
The vulgar tale if true, my case then seems
Like theirs on bed big with nocturnal dreams,
Who are with Night-mares, as with charms opprest,
And then it seems a Rock is on their breast:
In which sad case, their spirits a cold sweat
Possess, who labour from this load to get;
They cry unheard, nor stir, for fear yet shake,
Till they again become as when awake.
Or I am like one who through surges breaks,
And him t'a ship in lifes distress betakes,
Where whilst for help his hands upheaved be,
Lo, by the Current he's compell'd to sea.
Yet, now methinks I'm like Rebecca more,
When she fierce Esau and my Father bore,
Where by two different natures of this pair,
She was of tumults in her womb aware.
Ay me, what strong commotions, what a fray
Afflicts my mind! I feel the thing I say.
But what's more strange? of one behold now two,
Mortally bent each other to subdue:
This is the fruit of Soul-beguiling sin.
I fear not forrain, but strong powers within;
My bosome breeds the jar, the field's my heart,
Where two in battle each the other thwart.
To hate sins ways, the Law instructs my mind,
Yet in my members sin possest I find.
I in the spirit upright paths would tread,
But by the flesh in ways perverse am led.
I am in health, and sick, safe and forlorn;
I live and dye, am buried and new-born;
My zeal is hot, sometimes than frost more cold,
Now I'm afraid, and then again as bold.
I burn and freeze, am blith and sad of mind;
I stand, and down I fall; I loose and find.
Provok'd by youth, that which fond youth doth please
I love, yet contrite tears produce my ease.
What man yet ever of such wonders read?
My health is by perpetual sickness bred.
I'm chas'd though I pursue, scourg'd though I strike,
Even my own affections I dislike.
I'm my own slave, yet my own self I fear.
What works my grief, eftsoons I count most dear;
By these mixt thoughts I'm driven to and fro;
Sometimes I'm tost on high, then plung'd as low.
Alternately thus they disturb my rest,
Whilst one commends what t'other did detest.
Alas, what benefits a bolted dore,
Since that's within which is my greatest sore?
Whilst above earth sometimes I mount on wing,
My gross desires me down amain do bring.
Now I'm refresh'd, then with my tears agreed.
Now retrograde I fly, then on proceed.
Now joys I feel, then grief my joys offend.
Now towards Heaven, then towards Hell I bend.
Now I'm a Prince, then nothing straight at all.
Now strong I stand, then beneath thoughts I fall.
Now am I yea, then no; a storm, then still;
Now ebb, then flood; nor know I mine own will.
Ah where's my help? my breast cannot contain
These differing powers; where shall my Soul remain,
Lust to escape? what by the Eye's espy'd,
And crav'd by th'flesh, by Reason is deny'd.
How strange a thing am I? what can express
My composition in an Emblems dress?
Half I am Beast, half Man; half black, half white;
Deform'd and comely and half wrong, half right.
What dost thou do, my Soul with suppliant knee
Go seek thy God, in this thy strait go flee,
To him for help, thou know'st him great and strong,
And so for those that unto him belong.
He is the Lord of Battle, and will be
Thy Conquest; make thou him thy victory.
He'll make thee strong and hardy, and will lend
Thee safety, and thy life from hurt defend.
Onely for this thou must approach his Throne
Of mercy, and to him address thy moan.
No sin so presbus yet with cruel might,
Which prayer did not compel to shameful flight.
Prayer is our Harness which our minds doth shield,
That else to Satans fiery darts would yeild.
Then I begin: Great God, my Strength, my Aid,
Grant I may stand this conflict undismay'd;
Give me the Conquest, let successful speed
Crown my weak brow's, thou Saviour in our need.
O let not lustful flames, desires unchast,
Whereby so oft thy stamp's in us defac'd,
Prevail a jot, but, Father help thou me,
A Conscience pure to offer unto thee.
In myry Pits, behold, confounded I
Am come, where almost overwhelm'd I lye;
Where, Lord, I find no standing for my feet,
Thou must send help, or I my ruine meet.
Alas, how frail is man, whose bolyest works
Are but vile rags, where ugly evil lurks?
His highest Sanctity's a withered leaf,
And even vile beyond his own belief.
His mind's whole frame through his whole course of life,
With evil times as with the stream doth drive
In this worlds sea, with various blasts there tost,
And here, Lord, if thou help'st not, he is lost.
My feet in slippery places now abide,
With my own lusts I'm storm'd on every side,
All bands they break, they to rebellion run;
Lord, thy restraining grace, or I'm undone.
And thy directing Spirit give thou me,
Ease thou my groans, support my feeble knee;
Defend thy child that trusts in thee from shame,
Salvation give, and glorifie thy Name.
Distil thy Doctrine like a gentle showr
Into my narrow breast, there comforts powr.
Drench with thy living streams my thirsting mind,
And of thy right-hand-pleasures let me find
That measure in my Soul, that may exile
Thence sinful joys, as savourless and vile.
In times of old thy goodness thou hast shown
To me, whom thou adopted'st for thine own;
O then thine own defend, teach me to fight
Against my passions, which in sin delight.
These are but strangers in my soul, and she
That takes their part, a stranger unto thee.
On me O let them not gain any ground,
But their attempt do thou with shame confound.
I beg no worldly Power, nor Wealth do crave,
Or Regent Thrones, nor Monuments would have
Rais'd to my Name; nor pray I for great state,
Which Fame or humane glory might create.
This onely thing I wish I might obtain,
That of my heart a conquest I might gain
At this sad hour. If I'm but safe within,
All outward force shall never make me sin.
Then cheer thee, Soul, God bows to thy complaint
A willing ear; I feel his loves constraint
Rejoycing me: In tears, methinks, my song
I now can make; at weakest I am strong.
O my dear Soul, the riches of that grace
Observe which fills thy heart: thy Saviours face
Go meet, behold thy God doth now begin
To knock at thy hearts door, haste, let him in.
What means proud lust to tempt my pure desire?
I in my Soul possess a better fire,
A holier Spirit, a more cogent power,
Which liberally God in my breast doth shower.
The new tunn'd Must, before it vent obtains,
Strong groans ejects, as if opprest with pains
In the strait Vessel, wherein bridled long,
The bands at last it bursts, and then too strong,
The staves asunder rends, thence with uproar,
As with light feathers, in free air doth soar.
Thus with mans mind it is, now prone it lyes
Dishearten'd, then encouraged doth rise,
So exercis'd, until the field it gains,
And by Gods hand firm victory obtains,
Until immortal powers it can withstand,
And as it's self, so all the world command.
Well, what remains? shall this perswade my mind,
Because my Lady is to me inclin'd?
Shall her mad love enflame me with delight?
Or not much rather from such love affright?
For, how detestable it is when wives
Do sell themselves to lead lascivious lives?
When with unbridled lust the upright mind,
Themselves they tempt to deeds of bruitish kind?
Those Monsters with their eloquence impure,
Prompted by lust, even men themselves allure;
Assault the chast, and that from them request,
Which (though desir'd) should never be exprest.
Ay me, how have these things afflicted me!
From this vile woman I could ne'r be free:
For when my Lord still absent was from home,
I could not go where she'd not likewise come.
Where then in lustful Rhetorick she dresses
Her lawless love, or that by signs expresses,
Such as her eyes can yield, or breasts expos'd,
When to Adultery she is most dispos'd.
O with what art she sounds my tender mind,
Whether or no it be as hers inclin'd!
Sometimes my hand she kisses, then she woes
With fervent looks, nor know I what she does.
But who can love, nay, who will not detest
That suit first vile, and then by them exprest
Who should be woe'd, and in whose breasts should dwell,
That modest grace which doth in them excel.
'Tis monstrous if it does not, since we see
Of this by nature they possessors be;
And since a want hereof doth in the vile
Constrain their love affrighted to recoil.
The most lascivious of their lust yet gain
Do make, and gold and lordly gifts obtain;
But me this woman gives no rest at all,
Her body prostitutes, and gifts withal.
The profligatest wretch with lustful fires
Although he burns in his deprav'd desires,
Will yet pull in his flames at such a time
When lustful wives do court him to that crime.
Ah in my breast sha'nt I then horrour feel,
With her, who her Lords bed defiles, to deal?
To have to do with her, who would constrain
Me to submission to her lustful pain?
Sure modesty is womens chiefest grace,
A lowly eye, an humble bashful face,
Even then that blushes with a conscious red,
When, though of Marriage, ought to her is said.
Nor do I think is any man more vile
Than he who doth the Nuptial bed defile.
So he his Neighbours Heritage deceives,
And stones unknown upon his building heaves.
O thou luxurious flesh, shall now thy flame
Deprive my Soul of its most peaceful frame,
Of all its present ease, and sacred rest?
O no, thy valency, lo, is supprest,
Thy fire extinct, thy chains shook off, and broke,
Thy embers are now ashes, flames but smoak;
Thy itch is cool'd, nor hast thou power more;
I'm now another creature than before.
O hater of Heavens rest, the Souls disease,
Friend to luxurious pleasures, to base ease,
To gormandizing lust, to deeds of night,
To all excess of sensual delight,
On me why fly'st thou with thy big discourse?
I am above thy menaces or force;
In spight of thee henceforward thou shalt stand
Devoted unto my more strong command.
For vain shall be thy charms, and vain thy force;
Chuse either, thou in both shalt have the worse.
To God I have my Soul in prayer desolv'd,
Since which I find my mind far more resolv'd
In holy ways; and now a covenant
I with my self have made, no more to grant
The least complyance unto leprous sin,
However formidably she steps in.
First with my eyes this bargain I have made,
That my heart by them should not be betray'd,
Nor that they should a fatal glance convey
Upon a woman in a lustful way.
My curious ear I have severely charg'd,
No more attentively to be enlarg'd
To soul-invading words; and to my hands,
To keep from violence I have heap'd commands.
Then in my Soul this charge I have infus'd,
Never by any means to be seduc'd.
To lust in my desires bounds I have set,
Lest they should fall within this womans net.
My rolling tongue I've threatned to take heed,
That from it no licentious words proceed.
And lastly, I a watch have set to keep
My thoughts both waking and in dreams asleep.
Well, now my Armour's on, wherewith I know
All opposition I shall overthrow.
My Helm is Gods Salvation, Faith my shield,
My Sword's his Word; and thus I take the field.
Though now my Lady come arm'd i'th' defence
Of more encroaching of smooth Eloquence
Than the most oylie tongues of Whores yet knew,
My yeilding yet should not for this ensue.
Although she now were here, and so to try
My mind, or cloak her crime, should raise a cry,
I would despise as well her love, as spight,
And stand unmov'd, or take a speedy flight.
Although her curious limbs she now should show,
Fair as the morning, white as new-faln snow;
Her Ivory breasts though she should open lay,
And all her nakedness to me display;
Though richest presents she should offer me,
Wherewith the covetous beguiled be;
I'd all alike despise, and be aware
From falling by them in her fatal snare.
If at my feet she fell, I would not fear,
But soon if I could not step over her,
I'd trample on her body, then with flight
Make my escape, and get me out of sight.
Or with her arm if she to force me stand,
Should hold my cloak, I'd leave it in her hand,
Then if she should eject a clam'rous cry,
If needs I must, then out of dores I'd fly.

SEPHYRA.
Lo here I come again, now I shall see
Whether thou art of men or beasts that be
Sprung from obdurate rocks, now know shall I
Whether or no thou from thy bliss wilt fly.
Come then celestial Soul, beauties renown,
My hearts desire, my joy, my glories crown,
My whole repose, my comfort, onely rest,
My love and pleasure wherein I am blest.
Wisdom's residance, where best things resort,
Breath of my sighs, and my lifes chief support,
My flame's original, my bosomes key,
Long who art woe'd, yet cann't entreated be:
I warn thee by the favours thou didst find,
From me, by my strong fires, by thy great mind,
Yet humble soul, by my tormenting smart,
By thy soft nature, by my wounded heart,
By thy large gifts, by a distressed's prayer,
By my desires, by thy surprising air,
By my affliction, thy professed truth,
Vouchsafe compassion on my tender youth;
Pity these cheeks from whence their blush is fled,
On which a flowing stream of tears are shed,
And this sad mind repleat with heavy cheer,
That bears thee onely love and awful fear.
Pity, I pray thee, my blood-drinking groans,
My low estate, my heart-consuming moans,
And some refreshment to a Lover give,
Without thy favour that no hour can live.
Help my distress, I can no longer be
Delay'd; my grave extends its jaws for me,
My feet draw near to death: at last relent,
Set free my captive Soul with sorrow spent.
Thou seest my woe from my quick-rising tears,
From blubber'd cheeks, from looks all pale with fears.
And thou may'st see my wounded heart now pant;
But can'st thou see these, yet no pity grant?
O Boy, can'st thou despise the conqu'ring charms
Of my fair body, of my naked arms?
Can'st thou refuse to mitigate my pain?
But woe is me, my sighs are all in vain.
I see I cannot thy fierce temper please.
As like a rock amidst enraged Seas,
Unmov'd thou art. O unrelenting stone,
I'm whether mild or fierce, to thee all one.
But if't be so, I by Osiris swear,
By the great Cat whom we a God revere,
Nay by the Goat, the awful Crocodile,
And by the seven streams of sacred Nile;
By Iris, Seraphis, and what else more
In Egypt we as powerful Gods adore;
I swear by my own Soul, by Egypts Head,
Or thou art this day mine, or with the dead.
Upon this day depends our end of strife,
Or of my lust, or thy beloved life:
Howe're with me it goes, or I must flow
This day in pleasures, or in torturing woe.
Observe my words, without all doubt on thee
I'll be reveng'd, or fraud shall lack in me.
But wherefore rave I? Joseph cann't deny,
No, 'tis my pulse he onely first would try.
He till the last contains his young desire.
Wood that's yet green, will not at first take fire;
But when that wood doth once receive the same,
No piece so burneth with that solid flame.
Well, is it this, my dear, thou dost contrive?
Must first my passions to excess arrive?
O dally then no more; that minute's come,
Which will denounce, before it ends, my doom.
Thou therefore the necessity behold,
Which in it so much danger doth infold.
This is the utmost push, the last assay,
Which must conclude this so important day.
Although a Monster sprung from woods you were,
Fed with the Milk of Lyoness or Bear;
Although a Snake from craggy cliffs you came,
Yet sure my sighs would thy fierce nature tame.
Then come, nor more my tender touch deny.

Jos.
Hold, think it not.

Seph.
You must.

Jos.
I'll rather dye.

Sep.
Now Joseph.

Jo.
Be asham'd.

Sep.
Ah might I!

Jo.
Still?

Seph.
Prithee embrace me, Boy.

Jos.
Who I? I will—

Seph.
And yet thou shalt not go.

Jos.
How then I pray?

Seph.
Here thou shalt tarry, I have more to say.

Jos.
No Madam, 'tis enough, and all in vain.

Seph.
But friend, I hold thee, I'll thy flight refrain.

Jos.
De'e sport?

Seph.
Come here.

Jos.
My mantle tears, let go.

Seph.
Come here, I say.

Jos.
No.

Seph.
But I'll make thee know
Thou shalt, and love me too, ere I have done.

Jos.
Since it must be, then take my cloak; I'm gone
To make my best escape.

Seph.
This thou shalt rue.
Jor, Zepho, Thinna, Gos, all, all pursue
The wretch, 'tis highest time; my name's the aim,
I here endure unsufferable shame.

Jos.
Good God, what impudence! how will this end?

Seph.
Haste, haste, your Lady from a Rape defend;
A trayt'rous villain, brought from Hebrons soyl,
Upon me runs, my body to defile.
His violence an quickly, quickly tame;
The slave is full of lust, and void of shame.

JOSEPH.
Me, what anointed fraud! Hark, hark, I hear
Pursuing feet through all the house that bear
Sure death. Ah woe is me, what pursue cryes.
Now shall this woman cloak her guile with lyes,
And make a sad complaint, me to accuse
Of that which she against my self did use.
The Cloak I left her, when from her I brake,
Shall for her fraud no small advantage make.
My God, what help? what safety then have I?
Alas! I know not which way I shall fly.
The changes of these lower things, behold,
They but what's smoak and empty wind infold,
As like a Bubble now appearing fair,
Which in a trice dissolves in humid air.
Earths greatest dignities and chiefest good
Are like the flowing and the ebbing flood.
In splendid honour I this day did swell,
And now from thence am hurl'd as low as Hell.
Though guiltless now a shameful fall I bear,
Uncertain what must be my future share.
Ah me, on what, on what shall I resolve?
How in my breast shall I my case revolve?
Shall I with base subjection, like a slave,
Her guilt my guilt confess, and pardon crave?
Sure no, If I till now have lust deny'd,
In that good mind I'll to the end abide.
How then? shall I unto the Court repair,
And there unto my Lord the truth declare?
O no, that house with happy peace that's blest,
May not be griev'd for my desired rest.
Well, but what then? Shall I my self betake
Within, and there to each relation make
Of all that's pass'd? Nor that, 'tis not done well,
The crimes of Ladies to their slaves to tell.
What then? shall I the Countrey fly with speed?
As guilty, fly? that were a shameful deed.
'Tis better patiently the worst to bear;
For flyers ever guilty we declare.
Besides, when slaves presume to run away,
For that they with their backs or necks must pay.
What then shall I conclude? high time 'tis now:
Resolve then this, my Soul, not hence to go.
Then be it so; I'll wait here what may be
By Gods Decree selected out for me.
To him I pray'd, through him my fight renew'd;
With him stood firm, and by him lust subdu'd.
From him the rest I'll wait, and laugh at shame.
What should he fear, that trusts upon his Name?
Now I return to give due thanks to thee,
Great God, that from my self hast rescu'd me.
Although vain beauty did assault my eyes,
Thou helpedst me its witchraft to despise.
My feet from shameful fall preserv'd thou hast;
My Soul from ruine when with lust opprest.
Be thine the praise; I'll in thy Name delight,
So well who hast instructed me to fight
In thy dear cause. Towards thee I aspire
With longing Soul, thou end of my desire.
Henceforward my endeavours I will bend
In thy unspotted ways my days to spend.
Then shall my ways be in thy eyes upright,
When thou shalt aid me by thy Spirits might.