The Life and Death of Mary Magdalene A Legendary Poem in Two Parts, About A.D. 1620, By Thomas Robinson. Edited from the only known manuscripts in the British Museum and Bodleian Libraries, with an introduction, a life of the author, and notes, by H. Oskar Sommer |
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| II. | [PART II.]
Mary Magdalens death to sinne
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 | The Life and Death of Mary Magdalene |  |
42
II. [PART II.] Mary Magdalens death to sinne
or Her life in righteousnesse.
[_]
The numbering of the stanzas begins again with 1 in the MS., but it is carried on from Part I in this text, for convenience of reference.
108
Soe night with sable weedes 'gan disapeare,So melancholy vanishd quite away;
So ioy her chearfull countenance did reare,
So did the orient day-springe bringe the day,
And all the trees were clad with bloominge May:
The gladsome wren sate carolinge ye while,
And faine the Titmouse would the day beguile,
But vnderneath, the meadowes at yr musicke smile.
109
Why did the flowers blaze in wanton pride,And pearke yr heades aboue the tender stalkes?
Why was the Mary-gold distended wide?
Why sange the birds amonge their leauy walkes?
Why skipp'd the lambs vpon their steepy balkes?
Certes, the welbeloued went that waye,
The heire of heauen, from whose glorious ray
The Sun deriues his light, and Phosphorus ye daye.
110
And as that way he went (thrice happy houre!)He spy'd a mayde come tumblinge downe apace,
43
A hollowe voice he heard, yt would aghast
A wandringe straunger, and the Spirits cast
Her beauteous frame before his whiter feet,
And boweinge to ye ground, (as it was meete,)
His maiesty with feigned salutations greete.
111
Then with their vncouth hollow soundinge voice,(Such language Hell had taught them longe agoe,)
They roare and crye aloude with hydeous noyse,
“Wee knowe thy name; and whence thou art, we knowe:
O doe not vse vs licke a cruell foe!
Thou art the Sonne of God, for euer blest!
Thou cam'st to saue; then saue vs with ye rest,
And dispossesse vs not from out this balefull brest!
112
“Wee bee ye harbingers of heauens ire,Wee Mercuries vnto Astræa bright,
Wee punish sinners in ye lake of fire,
Wee giue thee reuerence, and homage right,
And dutifully tremble at thy sight;
While man doth mocke at heauens ofspringe still,
Wee yeeld obedience to thy sacred will:
Thou art a springe of good; oh, worke not vs this ill!”
113
Wonder it is, yt this accursed crueShould knowe ye Sauiour, whom but few could knowe;
Sure, they obseru'd his white and ruddy hue,
That made him cheefest of 10 thousand showe,
His lockes as blacke as rauen, and ye snowe
Of his faire Doue-like eyes. His cheekes beneath
Bedight with flowers, like beds of Spices breath;
His lily lippes, pure myrrhe vnto his spouse bequeath.
44
114
His hands, gould ringes beset with Chrysolite;His mouth, with sweetnesse fraught, and odours newe;
His belly vnder, like ye Iu'ry white,
All interchast with veins of Sappheirs blewe:
His pleasant countenance like Hermons dewe,
His leggs and feete, like marble pillers rare
On goulden sockets, yet by farre more faire:
His vestures, with yr Casia perfum'd ye aire.
115
A robe hee wore, like to his essence, pure;That vndiuided; vndeuided hee:
No wonder then (though 't seemes a wonder, sure)
That gloomy hell withouten eyes can see,
Iesus alone ye holy one to bee,
And ye Messias, yt should sin deface:
Such was his countenance and louely grace,
That they bewrayd his country, and his heau'nly race.
116
Though thought be free, nor can ye Stygian frieEnter ye chambers of our better parte,
(For yt belonges to heau'ns all-seeinge eye,
To search ye reines, and vnderstand ye hearte,
Nor will he this vnto his foes imparte)
Whither they through ye Sences windowes pry'd,
Or this by reuelation espy'd:
They knewe our Sauiours thought, and what would them betyde.
117
But thus ye subtill serpents him bespake,Hopinge, of Mercy, mercy to obtaine:
Yet simple elues, yr marke they did mistake,
And hopinge prayd, and prayinge prayd in vaine:
45
“You knowe me, (said hee) but I knowe not you;
And yet I knowe yee for a cursed crewe:
Then leaue your habitation, and seeke a newe!
118
Like as ye thunder on mount Sinai hearde,With flashinge lightninges and shrill trumpets sounde,
The future nations of Salem feard,
And made them flie, or fall flat on the ground,
Soe doth ye thunder of his voice confounde
The powers of hell, who from his glorious sight,
Swellinge with rancor, blasphemies and spight,
Vnto yr dungeon againe they take yr flight.
119
Soone as they tooke yr leaue, yt causd her thrall,Downe sunke ye Damsell in amazement deepe,
(After an earth-quake, soe the ground doth fall,)
And soundinge, yeelded to a sencelesse sleepe,
Ne could shee speake a worde, ne could shee weepe:
But he yt conquered all the powers beneath,
The Hell of sin, and sin of Hell, and Death,
Soone brought againe ye maydens pantinge, faintinge breath.
120
With milke-white hand, hee by ye hand her tooke,And stayd her faintinge head, and bad her cheare:
The burninge feuer then her heart forsooke,
Instead of which there came a suddaine feare:
So, when ye night begins to disappeare,
The dawinge of ye day with glimmeringe light,
That seemeth vncouth to ye weaker sight,
One newly layd a sleepe, and new awakd doth fright.
46
121
But feare soone vanishd, when ye heauenly swan,With Musicke of his voice did comforte giue;
And then to sue for fauour shee began,
And humbly craue yt shee with him might liue,
That did her soule from Hell and death repreiue.
As yet he granted not her suite: but said,
“Thy trespasses are pardoned (O maide)!
Repent thee; and to sin heere after, bee affrayd!”
122
Thus did ye winged Perseus of ye skieDeliuer our distress'd Andromede,
That nowe with greefe prœpar'd herselfe to dye
By ye waue-tossinge monster of ye sea,
The sea of Acheron: nowe Panopee,
With all her nimphes, scuddes on ye marble plaine;
The storme is ouerblowne, and once againe
Daye triumphes ouer night, and pleasure ouer paine.
123
The ship, that erst was toss'd with winde and tyde;Hath nowe ye port of quietnesse attaind;
The pilgrime wandringe through ye deserts wide,
Hath nowe at length a ioyefull harbour gaind;
And shee, that erst was pitied and plaind,
Nowe weepes for ioy, and ioyes in sorrow true;
And faire Syneide is return'd to viewe
Her chambers, and to build ye palaces a newe.
124
No sooner had she entred, but ye maydeFelt a warme motion within her brest,
And hard a tongue (though none shee sawe) yt sayd:
“Goe to ye courts of Wisedome, gentle guest;
There seeke Repentance, and with her, find rest:
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A flood of brinish teares and bitter woe,
That, bee thou n'er soe blacke, will make thee white as snowe.”
125
Mary, aggladded at this ioyfull newes,Seekes for ye palaces of Sapience;
A siluer doue, ye way vnto her shewes,
And with his bill giues her intelligence,
Soe that shee needs no conduct of ye sence,
And yet shee can not bee without it well.
Such pleasure, by ye way shee goes, doth dwell,
'T is hard to bee conceiud, but harder farre to tell.
126
The forrests were like fragrant Lebanon:Pome-granates sweete, and saffron there contend;
Spiknarde and Camphire with browne Cinnamon;
Calamus, Myrrhe and Aloes befreind
Th' enamourd ayre, and all about they send
Perfumes, exhaled from yr spicy beds.
And heere and there a springe of milke dispreads,
And hony-dewe ye sweeter shrubs of spices weds.
127
The riuers shind with oyle, and on ye shoreFaire Margarites and costly iewells laye;
The land emboweled great mines of Ore,
And all a-longe ye tinne-decayinge way,
The goodly Cedars seem'd to bidde her stay:
These did her captiuated eyes delight;
The flowry beds detaine her feete so white,
And middle-sizëd shrubs her tender hands invite.
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128
But then a rarer spectacle shee spies,The tower of Wisedome, yt did seeme to threat,
With highe-aspiringe toppe ye cloudy skies:
The ground-worke on a massy rocke was set,
That neither windes could hurt, nor waters great.
Sharpe prickinge thornes and thistles were before;
On each side, desarts waste, and wilde beasts roare;
Beyond, a furious sea doth wrastle with ye shore.
129
Why standes it on a hill?—her glorie's highe;Why on a rocke?—shee constant doth perseuer;
Why thornes before it?—hard aduersity
And spiny labour goe before her euer;
Why seas beyond it?—head-longe folly neuer
Is farre from daunger; why on eyther side
Desarts and beasts?—if either way you slide,
Into a thousand toylesome Labyrinths you glide.
130
What should I of this palace more relate,That in it-selfe all beauties doth enfould?
All there was pretious, and of highest rate,
And though all glist'red not, yet all was gould,
Or moulde as pure, or farre the purer mould.
Watchfull Humility still kept ye dore,
And none had entrance to ye courte, before
They crau'd her helpinge hand, and did her ayde implore.
131
Humility, instructions harbinger,Sorrowes glad ofspringe, mother of our peace,
Charities nurse, Religions fosterer,
Path-way to heauen, troubled soules release;
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Others by risinge, raize yr high desires;
But when shee lowest falls, shee most aspires;
Shee dulls ye sharpest swordes, and quenches flaminge fiers.
132
Magdalene entred with this happy guide;And all amazed at ye rasters bright,
Stone-still shee stood, till Wisedome shee espy'd,
With her owne worke of needle-worke bedight:
Then while shee wonders, giue mee leaue to write
Of her, with whome ye Sun may not compare:
Doue-like her eyes; her lockes of curled haire,
A flocke of kids, yt on mount Gilead feedinge are
133
Her temples, peices of Pomegranates seeme;Her feet, like newe-wash'd sheepe, ordred arright;
Her lippes, a thred of scarlet, you would deeme;
Her necke, like Dauids tower, where men of might
Hange vp yr Targets, all in open sight;
Her brests like two yonge roes of œquall age,
Amid ye lilies that haue pasturage:
Her talke is euer comely, sweet her carriage.
134
Doth any, honours diadem admire?With her, immortall honours euer dwell.
Doth any, great possessions desire?
Her riches, fadinge treasures farre excell.
Is any thirsty? shee's a liuinge well;
Shee makes ye weake man stronge, ye foolish wise;
Shee lends ye lame man feete, ye blinde man eyes;
Shee feedes ye hungry soule, and clothes ye naked thighes.
50
135
Wisedome's ye best of thinges, th' immortal treasure,The double booke of Nature and of grace,
Honour deuoyd of shame, and painelesse pleasure,
Pilot of life, and life of eu'ry place,
Nobles reiecter, raiser of ye base,
Falsehoods discouery, light of humaine sence,
The great Allmighties subtill influence,
Mirrour of maiesty, heauens purest Quintessence.
136
Oh that I might for euer heere abide,Within ye palaces, that age out-last,
And stay with Mary hard by Wisedomes side;
How nimbly would ye goulden numbers hast,
When of her Nectar I should sippe a tast.
Hence did ye waters of Castalian plaine
First issue forth, though in a purer vaine:
And shee, ye Pallas is, of great Iehouahs braine.
137
But nowe, behould, a goodly companyOf Wisedomes children stand about her round:
Two roomes shee hath, this lowe, the other highe:
Heere sate Prince Salomon, and Dauid crownd,
With thousands of his Saints in pleasure drownd.
There stood ye Monarche of this tripple Isle:
The Destinies for euer on him smile.
Others there were, but fewe, or none appear'd ye while,
138
Beside all those that fauour her essayes,Whom in her palaces shee highly grac't,
51
That soe yr names might neuer be defact,
Nor by ye tyrany of time eract,
That they ye Muses with yr fauour rayse,
And, by ye trumpet of ye Muses prayse,
Out-weare all-wearinge time, and liue immortall dayes.
139
But whither doe my wandringe numbers straye?Returne (yee Muses) to the path againe!
And yet, with Wisedome, well they wander may,
Better then walke right on with folly vaine.
Heere all ye while stoode Magdalene, soe faine
To meete Repentance: Wisedome at ye last
With hand in hand (shee knew ye Damselles hast)
Conductes her thither, where ye weepinge grace was plac't.
140
Streightly immured in a closet small,Repentance sate, with eyes still fixt on ground;
A-downe her cheekes ye tricklinge teares fall;
Her slender hands, her tender brest ywound;
And, (woe is me!) shee cries with sighinge sound:
Her carelesse-hanginge haire shee teares, her head
Was crownd with thornes, with dust besprinkeled;
Her loynes with sacke-cloth girt, her feete vncouered
141
Angells stood round about her, as her gard,(Though to ye outwarde eye, they were not seene)
And what on earth was sayd, in heaun was hard,
And all her teares were kept in bottels cleane;
(Teares, though a signe, yet ease of sorrowes keene:)
Her head was stayd by ye Angelique crewe,
Who all besprinkled her with holy dewe,
That shee might neuer faint, but aye her plaints renewe.
52
142
A Crystall riuer swifte before her fled,(Noe other lookinge-glasse shee had, poore soule,)
Instead of waues, the teares lift vp yr head,
And to ye muddy shore of sin they rowle,
Beatinge against ye rocke of scandalls fowle:
The water of it was exceedinge tarte,
Sore to ye eyes, but saluinge to ye heart:
Thees streames, abundant teares to all sicke soules imparte.
143
Teares, ye Soules bath, ye weepinge oliue tree;Teares, cause of comforte, though effect of greefe;
Teares, heauens showers, ye dewe of Iris bee,
Teares, amonge Paradises riuers cheefe,
Teares, Pœnitences badge, and hearts releife;
Teares bee ye sinner's solitary sporte;
Teares, hopefull sorrowe's longe-desired port;
Teares, handmaides to Repentance in Astræas courte.
144
Repentance is ye way to life by death;Repentance, health giu'n in a bitter pill;
Repentance, hearbe of grace, diuiner breath;
Repentance, rectifier of the will;
Repentance, loue of good, and hate of ill;
Repentance, mirth at last, though first annoy;
Repentance, Ibis, yt doth snakes destroye;
Repentance, earth's debate, heau'ns darlinge Angels ioye.
145
Teares quench ye thunder-bolts of zeale diuine,Repentance makes ye cruellst foe repent:
Teares keepe from putrefaction with yr brine,
Repentance sharpe, but sweetend by content:
53
Repentance euer doth ye worke begin:
Teares follow her, and cleanse ye sinke of sin:
Come, come, ye Saints, a pace! and with Repentance inne.
146
Desire's ye cause of Sin; Sin, cause of greefe;Greife bids repent, Repentance bringes forth teares;
Teares, pitie mooue, and pitty graunts releife,
That comforte, comforte hope, which nothinge feares;
Hope leades to faith, faith to ye Sauiour reares:
Iesus, to blisse, his militants doth raize;
Blisse causes glory, glory ends in prayse;
Prayse ends in him, yt no begininge knew, nor end of dayes.
147
This made ye Damsell in distressed state,Hopinge in teares to drench her misery,
Stand waitinge still at Pœnitence's gate:
Where, when shee knockt, Repentance by and by
Demaunded, whoe was there; shee made replie:
A sinfull soule.—
Then must you not come heere.
(Magdal.)
Oh, let me in (sweet Grace!) you need not feare.
(Rep.)
Thou wilt defile my bridall chamber.—(Mag.) I am cleare.
(Rep.)
148
Cleare? Whoe hath cleard thee, or with gracious lightIllumined thy minde?—
(Magd.)
The holy one.
(Rep.)
Where bee ye Spirits of Infernall night,
That whilome thee possest?—
(Mag.)
Oh; they are gone.
54
Where bee thy louers?—
(Mag.)
I am heere alone.
(Rep.)
If I admit thee, wilt thou not repent?
(Magd.)
Repent I neuer will.—
(Rep.)
To what intent
Should I then let thee in, if thou wilt n'er repent?
(Magd.)
149
Oh yes, I will repent me of my sin;But of Repentance I will n'er repent.
(Rep.)
What wilt thou doe, if yt I let thee in?
(Mag.)
With sorrowes due, I'll paye thee yearly rent.
(Rep.)
What diœt wilt thou haue?—
(Mag.)
Sighes to relent.
(Rep.)
They 're too stronge-breath'd.—
(Ma.)
Fitter for my weake plaint.—
(Rep.)
What more?—
(M.)
Fewe teares.
(Rep.)
yr heat will make
(M.)
I freeze.
(Rep.)
They coulder are.
(M.)
I burne.
(Rep.)
Come in, poore Saint!
150
Soe in shee came, directed by her guide,And dipt her finger in ye brinish well,
And with her eyes ye sharpnesse of it try'd,
From whence ye teares, as thicke as showers, fell,
And raisd ye bubles of ye watry cell,
As when a doubtfull cloud dissolus his raine,
Into ye ample bosome of ye maine:
His showers, her teares, yt fell, seeme all to fall in vaine.
151
Her head hunge downe, (heauy it was with greefe,)Nor durst shee euer looke vp to ye skie:
Of sinners shee esteem'd herselfe ye cheefe,
And knewe ye wrath of heauens maiesty.
55
And eu'ry where shee findes some cause to plaine,
But still Syneide comforts her againe,
And tells her, yt ye lambe, for sinners must bee slaine.
152
At length a rufull voice her silence brake,Like swellinge waters, troubled with ye winde,
And thus with greefe of heart ye Damsell spake,
“Ah, foolish woman, to thy selfe vnkinde!
When others see, howe longe hast thou been blinde?
Witnesse ye flash of pleasure for a while,
That, with ye falshehood of a guilded smile,
Did thee, poore wretch, allure; alluringe, did beguile.
153
“Vaine pleasure, cause of endlesse paine, adieu!Sweete is thy baite, but deadly is thy baine,
When for an howres delight, an age wee rue,
An ounce of mirth procures a world of paine,
And pleasure in his infancy is slaine:
The swellinge bubble, sweet flower, springinge grasse,
Falls, fadeth, is not, what but now it was:
But shorter pleasure, all in shortnesse doth surpasse.”
154
Thus shee laments, and while shee casts her eyesVpon ye water, yt was vnder placd,
Her gentle shadowe, mourninge shee espies,
And all ye beauty of her face defacd:
“Oh, hadst thou euer, (sayes shee) thus been grac'd,
Beauty, thou rocke of Soules, faire Sirens smile,
Nights glitteringe glowe-worme, wepinge Crocodile.
Beauty more lou'd then purest gould, then drosse more vile.
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155
“And yet ye pourtract of this outward frame,The rarest gifte, yt euer from aboue
Heau'n did on earth bestowe, had not yt shame
Of wretched man with-drawne his makers loue:
For, saue his soule infused by ye Doue,
What else in man worth note?—vnhappy fall.
Since when (but whoe can date expir'd recall?)
That which is best in vs, wee make it worst of all.
156
“Thees haires, yt modestly should haue beene ty'd(For modesty 's a maydes best ornament)
Layd out in tresses, haue declar'd my pride:
Thees eyes were made to viewe ye firmament,
And giue Him glory, yt such glory lent.
But (woe is mee!) they haue ye glasses beene,
Where folly lookd, and wantonnesse was seene,
Soe ioyfull to attend vpon ye Cyprian Queene.
157
“Thees cheekes should blush at sin with crimson die,But they to lewdnesse cheefely doe inuite,
With smiles deceiuinge ye behoulders eye:
Thees lippes were made to prayse, and pray arright,
Not to delude ye soone-deluded sight:
This tongue should singe out Halleluiahs,
Not accent vaine lasciuious essayes:
Hands, feet, heart, all were made, to speake yr makers prayse.
158
“But I (poore wretch! such wretches, sinners bee),Led captiue by ye powers of Hell beneath,
Each member haue defild, noe parcell free,
And liuinge, entred in ye snares of death,
57
Oh that I might those yeares againe recall,
That made me free to Sin in Pleasures thrall.”
Yet better late repente, then not repent at all:
159
No siluer haires her goulden twist had chang'd,No pallid hue assaild her rosy-red,
No wrinkles had her browe from loue estraung'd,
No rottenesse her Iu'ry teeth be-spread:
Youth in his freshest colours flourished.
And yet shee thought, in humblenesse of minde,
The dayes to longe, yt had her thus confin'd,
Repentance, with ye least offence, some falt can finde.
160
Thus in her selfe, her selfe shee wellnigh lost,And on her selfe her sighes and sorrowes spent;
Till ye next roome her cogitations crost,
With pearly teares and Crystall due besprent,
And gaue her store of matter to lament:
Then shee begins a-fresh, (for to her thought
Thees spectacles ye courts of Pleasure brought,
Where ill was counted good, and good was counted naught.)
161
“Faire courtes without, but foulest sinkes within,Vnder your roofes, would I had neuer beene!
Sweet sportes, but leauend with a lumpe of Sin!
Would God, I neuer had your madnesse seene!
And thou, vaine Pleasure, youths adored queene,
Oh, maist thou euer bound in hell remaine,
And suffer torments of œternall paine!
For thou hast ship-wrackt all, and many a Soule hast slaine.
58
162
“Better it is with-in this narrowe roomeTo spend our flittinge dayes, and closely keepe,
Then, while wee liue, soe fairely to intombe
Our soules in Marble pleasures, yt will weepe
Dayes without end, when wee haue tooke our sleepe.
Better, this well of teares, then clearest founts,
For sad Repentance, in true ioye surmounts
Vaine Pleasures shady bowers, sweet gardens, rich accounts.
163
“Better thy thorne-bush then a crowne of Myrtle,Thy ashes, better then ye bread of strife;
Better thy sacke-cloth, then a silken kirtle;
Thy bitter, better then ye sweetest life;
Better thy selfe, then is ye rarest wife:
Repentance, hearts content, ye sinners stay,
The salt of all our actions, ye key
That opens heau'n, and leads into ye courts of day.
164
“The hate of sinfull life, and sorrowes deepe,Surpasse ye loue of life, and life of loue:
For what is yt which wantons ‘loue’ yclepe,
But hot desires yt doe each passion mooue,
And through ye veines with lust-full poyson roaue;
A foolish fancy and a pleasinge paine,
That dimmes ye eyes, and dulls ye purest braine.
But loue, from heauen came, and thither goes againe.”
165
So nowe, me thinkes, her waylinge should be done,The closets shutt, ye liquid fountaine drie;
Herselfe, loue, pleasure, shee hath ouer-run,
Yet downe her cheekes ye Isicles doe hie,
59
Sighes serue for voice, teares for a tongue, to showe
The meaninge of her minde, and inward woe:
And when all's done, abroad shee and Repentance goe.
166
And as they walke abroad in open aire,Each thinge shee spies, is matter of her teares:
The creatures with her-selfe shee doth compare;
And when ye Sun in bright array appeares,
He blushes at her shame; and when shee heares
The chirpinge birds, she thinkes they doe reioyce
To see her weepe, and heare her broken voice;
And vpon her alone, ye beasts to gaze make choyse.
167
As by she passes, each tree shakes his head,Notinge her shame, and infamy of life:
The flowers turne, and seeme refuse her tread;
The buzzinge flies about are very rife;
The winde, against her, blowes with mickle strife:
But to herselfe most sharpe, she rents her haire,
Showringe forth teares, with sighes and humble prayer,
So to content ye earth with teares, with sighes ye aire.
168
Then a newe contemplation shee invents,(But all her contemplations holy were,)
And thus with piteous mone shee sore laments,
Holdinge her hands vp to ye spangled sphære:
“Oh thou yt guidst thy burninge horses there,
Thy state I envie, sith thy race is run
From East to West, and mine scarse yet begun;
My darknesse, others blindes; to others, shines ye Sun.
60
169
“Sweete is ye smell, yt fragrant flowers bringe,Wouinge ye winde to kisse them once againe;
Sweet are ye notes, yt birds sit carolinge
To him yt made them; but ye filthy staine
Of sin hath mee disodour'd, and my straine
Tunes nought but vanity and fond delight:
The grasse with freshest colours is bedight;
The trees bringe fruit: but fruitlesse I, as darke as night.
170
“The fire hath heat, but I was dead in sin:The aire is moist, my vertue withered:
Solid ye earth: but I haue euer been
Vnstable: water coole; I, tortured
With burninge lust: All haue perseuered
In true obedience, performinge still,
What was inioyn'd them first by heauens will,
While I, vnhappy soule, haue wrought no worke but [ill.]
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“Oh that mine eyes a fountaine weare of teares,That I might cleanse my sin-polluted soule,
Or yt my dayes were like ye Eagles yeares,
That with my age I might renewe my smarte,
So should Repentance neuer from mee parte!”
But oh, enough (faire Damsell), though ye skies
Nor ye vast sea with water can suffice
To purge our sin, yet faith from heauen biddes thee rise.”
172
So shee arrose, and by ye way heard tell,That Iesus with ye Pharise nowe sate:
Thrice happy messenger, yt came so well,
Such vnexpected tidinges to relate,
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Yet shee was daunted at ye Pharise,
(For Pharises and sinners n'er agree,
Though Pharises themselues, of s[i]nners cheefest bee).
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A while shee pauzinge stood, and 'gan to doubt,Whither shee to ye Pharises should goe,
Or rather for her Sauiour staye without;
(Such men bee of austere regarde, wee knowe,
And to ye vulgar make a goodly showe.)
But other thoughts, to quell this care begin,
“The Pharise's a man, and men haue sin;
Then, bee hee n'er so good, a better is within.
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“A better is within, and hee so good,That howe maye I, polluted soule, come neare?
Women defiled with a fluxe of blood,
Maye not amonge ye hallowed appeare:
I am vnclean, and leprous eu'ry where,
How shall I then approach before his eye,
More bright then is [ye] Eagle's, yt doth prie
Into ye cabinets of deepest secrecy?—
175
“But yet in mercy is his cheefe delight:Hee came to heale ye sicke, to saue ye lost;
Hee cur'd 10 Lepres, gaue ye blinde yr sight,
Feet to ye lame, life to ye nummed ghost,
Speech to ye dumbe, and comforte to ye moste:
And, which with prayse must euer bee confest,
(Blest be ye time! his name for euer blest!)
Seu'n sprights, with thunder hee ycharm'd from out my brest.
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“Certes his loue will couer all my shame,And with his robe my errours I may hide:
For I am sicke, lost, leprous, blinde, and lame,
Dumbe, comforteles, and dead: nor is it pride,
To seeke for helpe: then, what so'er betide,
Thither I'l goe! if Christ once bidde me stay,
The Pharise can neuer say mee nay:
Oh, happy place, where heau'n hath placd another day!”
177
A boxe of costely odours shee præpar'd,Odours t' anoynt th' anoynted from aboue,
And with it streight to Simons house shee far'd,
With true repentance to declare her loue:
Shee brake it, and ye roome could soone approoue
The fragrant smell: such is a contrite heart,
That to ye heau'n sweet sauours doth impart,
The oyntment of good workes, and pænitence, ne'r parte.
178
Præpared thus, behinde his feet shee stood,Dissolu'd in teares of sweet (though bitter) brine,
And with ye torrent of a Chrystall flood,
Shee wash'd his feet, his iu'ry feet diuine,
And then shee wip'd them with ye goulden twine
Of her dissheuel'd haires: full many a kisse
Shee gaue, and tooke; and, conscious of yr blisse,
Her lippes waxt pale, for feare they had done ought amisse.
179
That falt, ye willinge maide will soon amend,For lauishely shee powres her oyntement sweet,
(Though lauishely enough shee n'er could spend
That which shee spent vpon his heau'nly feet:)
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Sweet was thy vnction (Mary), sweet thy kisse,
But sweetest of all sweetes, thy teares (I-wis):
The onely waye to heauen, by salt water is.
180
Happy wert thou to touch ye tressells bareOf thy beloued, heau'nly paramour,
With eye, with hand, with temples, lippe and haire:
Yet thrice more happy, sith thy Sauiour,
With eye, heart, hand of faith thou didst adore:
So doth a loue-sicke soule of best desarte,
Desire to touch her louer in each part,
And closely steale his body, yt hath stole her heart.
181
Oyntement shee mingles aye with bitter teares;Teares with sweet oyntement aye shee doth confound:
No better balme in Gilead appeares,
No sweeter smell in Lebanons rich ground:
This saints ye sinner, makes ye sickest sound:
Oyntement and teares (if true) to get her inne,
First ope ye sluce, and shed teares for thy sin,
Then to anoynt Christe's feet, with Magdalen begin.
182
Humility, lowe at his feet biddes stand;Behinde him, rosy-blushinge Modesty:
Teares for his feet, Repentance doth commaund;
And Selfe-Hate, with her haire biddes make them drie:
Loue biddes her kisse, and Liberality
Wills her to breake ye boxe, and oyntement powre.
Hardenes of heart, pride, shamelesnesse before,
Lust, luxury, selfe-loue, possess'd her thoughts of yore.
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Mee thinkes, I see ye Damsell at her worke,While shee embalmes his feet with odours rare;
With modest blush, howe shee hath learnt to lurke,
And kisse his feet, his marble feet, so faire,
And then to wipe them with her carelesse haire:
Often her hands, often her lippes, came near[e];
Oft wipes shee of ye oyntement, yt I feare,
The oyntement wanted sweet, his feet perfumed weare.
184
Yet sweet ye oyntement was, though sweeter farreThe Nectar of his feet, with dewe besprent:
So weake perfumes (though sweet) soone drowned are,
If they bee mingled with a deper sent:
Simons good cheare giues no such good content:
His ghuests are frolicke with yr dainty meat;
But shee delights ye brinish teares to eat,
And ioyeth more in hers, then they in highest seat.
185
Some at feast haue crau'd thy company;But fewe or none, sweet oyntement for thee kept;
Some haue anoynted, but fewe wip'd the[e] drie:
Some wip'd thee drie; but wipinge, fewe haue wept;
Beyond them all, kinde Magdalene hath stept:
Some on thy head bestow'd yr charity,
(Such was ye vse in auncient times,) but shee,
Oyntinge thy feet, from toppe to toe anoynted thee.
186
O, that I might, with waueringe Thomas, dippeThe finger of my faith within his side,
Or heere with Magdalene obtaine a sippe,
(Farre from my humble thought bee greater pride!)
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What would hee giue for weepinge Maries place,
Whose hermitinge humility could grace
The Linnen cloutes, yt did our Sauiours wound embrace.
187
Faine would I leaue of Maries loue to writ[e],But still her loue yt will not let me leaue:
In loue shee liu'd, and now with loues delight,
Her former loue, yt did her eyes deceiue,
In-stead of loue, of life shee doth bereaue:
Faire mayde, redeemed from ye iawes of Hell,
Howe hardly can I bidde thy loue fare-well!
That which thou lou'st to doe, so doe I loue to tell.
188
The Pharisæ yt thought hee sawe, was blinde;The abiect sinner had the clearer eye;
For thus hee reasoned within his minde;
‘Were this a Prophet, hee would soone descrie
The wickednesse of her yt standes so nighe:’
Thus hee coniectur'd, yet hee vtter'd nought:
But his hypocrisie to light was brought;
For well hee knewe her former life, yt knewe his thought.
189
Then hee begins her action to commendTo Simon in a parable of debt,
And sayes vnto him: “Seest thou her, my freind?
Great is her loue, because her Sin is great:
To washe my feet, no water hast thou set;
But shee with teares hath washt them: on my head
Thou hast not powred oyle: but shee, in-stead,
With costly oyntement hath my feet be-sprinkeled.
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“No kisse thou gau'st mee for a kinde salute;But shee vnto my feet doth kisses giue:
So her affection with her smiles doe sute:
Thy sinns (sayth hee) are cleansd, and thou shalt liue:
Goe hence in peace, sweete mayde! for euer thriue!”
Wonder it is, yt hee, whose sacred might
May call all prayse and glory, his by right,
Should giue such heaunly prayse vnto a mortall wight.
191
Away shee went, aggladded at the heart,(Packe hence all sorrowe, let ye Damsell cheare!)
Yet so, yt neuer from him shee would parte:
And nowe her browe and cheekes began to cleare,
And ioye displayd his banners eu'ry where;
Now with a shole of Maries so deuout,
Shee ministers, and deales her goods about,
And followes her Leige-Lorde ye villages throughout.
192
Nowe on his rarest miracles shee gazeth,And with attention shee likes to heare,
While hee ye lustre of his light eblazeth,
And charmes with sacred eloquence each eare.
So shee awaited still, both farre and neare,
Till death approach'd, and hee inuaded Hell:
But of his death, what should I further tell?
Better maye hee that sange his birth, ringe out his knell.
193
Many a teare in Golgotha shee spent,To waile his torment and her owne distresse;
And after, hied her to his monument,
With odours sweet his wounded corps to dresse:
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The earth was clad with sable weeds of night
When Magdalene, so full of rufull plight,
Prœuents ye daye, and in ye darke seekes for her light.
194
O blessed woman, without Paragon,That couldst outrun (such is ye force of loue)
The faithefull Peter and beloued Iohn,
And bee ye first yt sawe ye stones remoue!
This boone was graunted thee from heau'n aboue:
But when shee could not finde his body there,
Shee runs to them, and cries with piteous feare,
“Aye mee! my lord is gon! and layd, wee knowe not where.”
195
Iohn faster ran, but Peter farther went:Hee came vnto ye sepulehre, and stayd;
The other entred in ye monument;
But both out-stripped by ye weepinge mayde:
They sawe ye linnen clothes and kercheife layd
A-part: but shee, ye Angells first did viewe,
As downe shee bow'd, in weeds of whitest hue.
Poore Mary knewe not them, although they Mary knewe.
196
Shee drownes her-selfe in teares of saltest brine;They aske her, why shee weepes, and makes such mone:
Shee sayes, “my Lorde is taken from this shrine;”
And hauing sayd, shee spies her Lord alone;
And yet to her, though seen, hee is not knowne:
“Woman! (sayes hee) why makst thou such laments?”
Shee aunswerd, “Sir! if thou hast borne him hence,
Tell mee but where hee lies, and I will fetch him thence.”
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197
Shee thought her Lorde, ye gardiner had been:And keeper of a garden, sure, was hee:
Yet no such garden, where dead sculls are seen,
But Paradise, where pleasures euer bee,
And blisse deriu'd from lifes aye-liuinge tree:
Thither ye theife and he together went,
And thither Mary must at length bee sent;
But first ye dimme light of her life must needs bee spent.
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Shee, to anoynt his breathlesse body came;With oyle of gladnesse hee, to oynt her head:
To keepe him from corruption, was her ayme;
His purpose was to raise her from ye dead.
By name hee call'd her (happily shee sped!)
To bee the messenger of heau'[n]ly newes,
That gladdes the heart, and fadinge age renewes,
And to ye Saints, thinges longe time vnreueiled shewes.
199
Awaye shee postes, all rauish'd with desire,And to ye Saints together met, shee hies:
Her tidings make ye trobled soules admire;
And yet her solace, and sweet obloquies,
Make constant hope, and better thoughts arrise.
Their prayses loud vp to ye heau'ns they send:
Ioye closes all, (such ioye no style hath penn'd)
So end I with yr ioye; ner may yt ioye haue end!
| The Life and Death of Mary Magdalene | |