University of Virginia Library

Girt in bright flames, rapt from celestiall fire,
That our unwearied faculties refine,
By zeale transported boldly we aspire
To sing a subject gloriously divine:
Him that of mortals onely had the grace,
(On whom the Spirit did in such power descend)
To talke with God face opposite to face,
Even as a man with his familiar friend.

Muse I invoke the utmost of thy might,
That with an armed and auspitious wing,
Thou be obsequious in his doubtlesse right
'Gainst the vile Atheists vituperious sting:
Where thou that gate industriously mai'st flie,
Which Nature strives but fainedly to goe,
Borne by a power so eminent and hie,
As in his course leaves reason farre below,
To shew how Poesie (simplie hath her praise)
That from full Jove takes her celestiall birth,
And quicke as fire, her glorious selfe can raise
Above this base abhominable earth.

O if that Time have happily reservd,
(Besides that sacred and canonicke writ,
What once in Slates and Barkes of trees was kerv'd)
Things that our Muses gravitie may fit,
Unclaspe the worlds great Register to mee,
That smoakie rust hath very neere defac'd,
That I in those dim Characters may see,
From common eyes that hath aside beene cast,
And thou Translator of that faithfull Muse
This Alls creation that divinely song,
From Courtly French (no travaile do'st refuse)
To make him Master of thy Genuin tong,
Salust to thee and Silvester thy friend,
Comes my high Poem peaceably and chaste,
Your hallow'd labours humbly to attend
That wrackfull Time shall not have power to waste.

A gallant Hebrew (in the height of life)
Amram a Levit honourably bred,
Of the same off-spring wan a beauteous wife,
And no lesse vertuous, goodly Jacobed:
So fitly pair'd that (without all ostent)
Even of the wise it hardly could be sayd
Which of the two was most preheminent,
Or he more honour'd, or she more obayd,
In both was found that liveliehood and meetnes,
By which affection any way was mov'd:
In him that shape, in her there was that sweetnes,
Might make him lik'd or her to be belov'd:
As this commixtion, so their maried mind
Their good corrected, or their ill releev'd,
As truly loving as discreetly kinde,
Mutuallie joy'd, as mutuallie greev'd:
Their nuptiall bed by abstinence maintain'd,
Yet still gave fewell to Loves sacred fire,
And when fruition plentifulli'st gain'd,
Yet were they chaste in fulnes of desire.

Now grieved Israel many a wofull day,
That at their vile servilitie repin'd,
Press'd with the burdens of rude boist'rous clay,
By sterne Egyptian tyrannie assign'd:
Yet still the more the Hebrewes are opprest
Like to Frim seed they fructifie the more
That by th'eternall providence fore-blest,
Goshen gives roomth but scantly to their store.
And the wise Midwives in their naturall neede,
That the faire males immediatlie should kill,
Hating s'abhord, and Hethenish a deede,
Check his harsh brutenes and rebellious will.
That small effect perceiving by the same,
Bids the men-children (greatelie that abound)
After that day into the world that came,
Upon their birth should instantly be drownd:
And now the time came had bin long foretold,
He should be borne unto the Hebrewes joy,
Whose puissant hand such fatall power should hold,
As in short time all Egipt should destroy.
The execution which more strongly forc'd,
And every where so generally done,
As in small time unnaturally divorc'd,
Many a deare Mother, and as deare a Sonne.
Though her chast bosome that faire Altar were,
Where Loves pure vowes he dutifully pay'd,
His Armes to her a Sanctuary deare,
Yet they so much his tyranny obay'd,
By free consent to separate their bed,
Better at all no Children yet to have,
Then their deare love should procreate the dead,
Untimely issue for a timelesse grave.
When in a vision whilst he slept by night,
God bids him so not Jacobed to leave,
The man that Egypt did so much affright,
Her pregnant wombe should happily conceave.

Joseph.

Soone after finding that she was with child,
The same conceales by all the meanes she can,
Lest by th'apparance she might be beguild,
If in the birth it prov'd to be a man.
The time she goes till her accompt was nie,
Her swelling belly no conception showes,
Nor at the time of her delivery,
As other women panged in her throwes.
When lo the faire fruit of that prospering wombe
Wounds the kinde parents in their prime of joy,
Whose birth pronounceth his too timelesse doombe
Accus'd by Nature, forming it a boy:
Yet tis so sweet, so amiably faire,
That their pleas'd eies with rapture it behold,
The glad-sad parents full of joy and care
Faine would reserve their Infant if they could,
And still they tempt the sundrie varying howers,
Hopes and despaires together strangely mixt,
Distasting sweets with many cordiall sowers,
Opposed interchangeably betwixt.
If ought it ayl'd or hapleslie it cride,
Unheard of any that she might it keepe,
With one short breath she did intreat and chide,
And in a moment she did sing and weepe.
Three lab'ring months them flatterer-like beguilde,
And danger still redoubling as it lasts,
Suspecting most the safety of the Childe,
Thus the kinde Mother carefully forecasts:
(For at three moneths a scrutinie was held,
And searchers then sent every where about,
That in that time if any were conceal'd,
They should make proofe and straitly bring them out:)
To Pharoes will she awfully must bow,
And therefore hastens to abridge these feares,
And to the flood determines it shall goe,
Yet ere it went shee'll drowne it with her teares.
This afternoone Love bids a little stay,
And yet these pauses doe but lengthen sorrow,
But for one night although she make delay,
She vowes to goe unto his death to morrow.
The morning comes, it is too early yet,
The day so fast not hast'ning on his date,
The gloomy Evening murther best doth fit,
The Evening come, and then it is too late.
Her pretty Infant lying on her lap
With his sweet eyes her threatning rage beguiles,
For yet he playes, and dallyes with his pap,
To mock her sorrowes with his am'rous smiles,
And laugh'd, and chuck'd: and spred the pretty hands,
When her full heart was at the point to breake,
(This little Creature yet not understands
The wofull language mothers teares did speake.)
Wherewith surpriz'd, and with a parents love,
From his faire eyes she doth fresh courage take,
And Natures lawes allowing, doth reprove
The fraile Edicts that mortall Princes make.
It shall not die, she'll keepe her child unknowne,
And come the worst in spight of Pharoes rage,
As it is hers, she will dispose her owne,
And if't must die, it'st die at riper age.
And thus revolving of her frailties care,
A thousand strange thoughts throng her troubled minde,
Sounding the dangers deepely what they are,
Betwixt the lawes of cruelty and kinde.
But it must die, and better yet to part,
Since preordain'd to this disast'rous fate,
His want will sit the neerer to the heart
In riper and more flourishing estate.
The perfect husband whose impressive soule,
Tooke true proportion of each pensive throw,
Yet had such power his passion to controule,
As not the same immediately to show.
With carriage full of comelinesse and grace,
As griefe not felt nor sorrow seem'd to lacke,
Courage and feare so temp'red in his face,
Thus his beloved Jacobed bespake.
Deare heart be patient, stay these timelesse teares,
Death of thy Son shall never quite bereave thee,
My soule with thine, that equall burthen beares,
As what he takes, my Love againe shall give thee:
For Israels sinne if Israels seed must suffer,
And we of meere necessity must leave him,
Please yet to grace me with this gentle offer,
Give him to me by whom thou didst conceyve him.
So though thou with so deare a jewell part,
This yet remayneth lastly to releeve thee,
Thou hast impos'd this hindrance on my heart,
Anothers losse shall need the lesse to grieve thee,
Nor are we Hebrewes abject by our name,
Though thus in Egypt hatefully despised,
That we that blessing fruitlesly should clayme
Once in that holy Covenant comprised,
It is not fit Mortality should know
What his eternall providence decreed,
That unto Abraham ratifi'd the vowe
In happy Sara and her hallowed seed.
Nor shall the wrong to godly Joseph done
In his remembrance ever be enrould,
By Jacobs sighes for his lost little sonne
A Captiv'd slave to the Egyptians sould:
Reason sets limmets to the longest griefe,
Sorrow scarse past when comfort is returning,
He sends affliction that can lend releefe,
Best that is pleas'd with measure in our mourning.

Lost in her selfe, her spirits are so distracted,
All hopes dissolv'd might fortifie her further,
Her minde seemes now of misery compacted,
That must consent unto so deere a murther.
Of slime and twigs she makes a simple shread
(The poore last duty to her child she owes
This pretty martyr, this yet living dead)
Wherein she doth his little corps enclose:
And meanes to beare it presently away,
And in some water secretly bestow it,
But yet a while bethinkes her selfe to stay,
Some little kindnesse she doeth further owe it:
Nor will she in this cruelty persever,
That by her meanes his timelesse blood be spilt,
If of her owne she doth her selfe deliver,
Let others hands be nocent of the guilt:
Yet if she keepe it from the ruthlesse flood
That is by Pharo's tyranny assign'd it,
What bootes that wretched miserable good,
If so dispos'd where none doe come to finde it,
For better yet the Homicide should kill it,
Or by some beast in peeces to be rent,
Than lingring famine cruelly should spill it,
That it endure a double languishment:
And neighbouring neere to the Egyptian Court,
She knowes a place that neere the river side
Was oft frequented by the worthier sort,
For now the spring was newly in her pride.
Thither she hastes but with a paynefull speed
The neerest way she possibly could get,
And by the cleere brimme mongst the flags and reede,
Her little Coffin carefully she set:
Her little Girle (the Mother following neere)
As of her Brother that her leave would take,
Which the sad woman unexpecting there,
Yet it to helpe her kindely thus bespake:
(Quoth she) sweet Miriam secretly attend,
And for his death see who approacheth hether,
That once for all assured of his end,
His dayes and mine be consummate together,
It is some comfort to a wretch to die
(If there be comfort in the way of death)
To have some friend or kinde alliance by,
To be officious at the parting breath:
Thus she departs, oft stayes, oft turneth backe,
Looking about lest any one espi'd her,
Faine would she leave, that leaving she doth lacke,
That in this sort so strangely doth divide her.
Unto what Dame (participating kinde)
My verse her sad perplexitie shall showe,
That in a softned and relenting minde
Findes not a true touch of that Mothers woe.
Yet all this while full quietly it slept,
(Poore little Brat incapable of care)
Which by that powerfull providence is kept,
Who doth this childe for better daies prepare.
See here an abject utterly forlorne,
Left to destruction as a violent prey,
Whom man might judge accursed to be borne,
To darke oblivion moulded up in clay,
That man of might in after times should bee
(The bounds of fraile mortality that brake)
Which that Almighty gloriously should see,
When he in thunder on mount Sinai spake.

Now Pharaoh's Daughter Termuth young & faire,
With such choyce Maydens as she favour'd most,
Needes would abroad to take the gentle ayre,
Whilst the rich yeere his braveries seem'd to boast:
Softly she walkes downe to the secret flood,
Through the calme shades most peaceable & quiet,
In the coole streames to check the pampred blood,
Stir'd with strong youth and their delicious diet;
Such as the Princesse, such the day addressed,
As though provided equally to paire her,
Either in other fortunately blessed
She by the day, the day by her made fairer,
Both in the height and fulnesse of their pleasure,
As to them both some future good divining,
Holding a steadie and accomplish'd measure,
This in her perfect clearenesse, that in shining.
The very ayre to emulate her meekenesse,
Strove to be bright and peaceable as she,
That it grew jealous of that sodaine sleekenesse,
Fearing it after otherwise might be:
And if the fleet winde by some rigorous gale
Seem'd to be mov'd, and patiently to chide her,
It was as angry with her lawnie vaile,
That from his sight it enviously should hide her:
And now approching to the flow'rie meade
Where the rich Summer curiously had dight her,
Which seem'd in all her jollitie arayde,
With Natures cost and pleasures to delight her:
See this most blessed, this unusuall hap,
She the small basket sooner should espie,
That the Childe wak'd, and missing of his pap,
As for her succour instantly did cry;
Forth of the flagges she caus'd it to be taken,
Calling her Maids this Orphanet to see,
Much did she joy an Innocent forsaken
By her from perill priviledg'd might be:
This most sweet Princesse pittifull and milde,
Soone on her knee unswathes it as her owne,
Found for a man, so beautifull a Childe,
Might for an Hebrew easily be knowne:
Noting the care in dressing it bestow'd,
Each thing that fitted gentlenesse to weare,
Judg'd the sad parents this lost Infant ow'd,
Were as invulgar as their fruit was faire,
(Saith she) my minde not any way suggests
An unchaste wombe these lineaments hath bred,
For thy faire brow apparently contests
The currant stampe of a cleane nuptiall bed:
She nam'd it Moyses, which in time might tell
(For names doe many mysteries expound)
When it was young the chance that it befell,
How by the water strangely it was found,
Calling Melch-women that Egyptians were,
Once to the teat his lips he would not lay,
As though offended with their sullied leare,
Seeming as still to turne his head away.

The little Girle that neere at hand did lurke,
(Thinking this while she tarried but too long)
Finding these things so happily to worke,
Kindely being crafty, wise as she was yong,
Madame (saith she) wilt please you I provide
A Nurse to breed the Infant you did finde,
There is an Hebrew dwelling here beside,
I know can doe it fitly to your minde:
For a right Hebrew if the Infant be,
(As well produce you instances I can,
And by this Childe as partly you may see,)
It will not sucke of an Egyptian.
The courteous Princesse offered now so faire,
That which before she earnestly desir'd,
That of her foundling had a speciall care,
The Girle to fetch her instantly requir'd:
Away the Girle goes, doth her Mother tell
What favor God had to her brother showne,
And what else in this accident befell,
That she might now be Nurse unto her owne.
Little it bootes to bid the Wench to ply her,
Nor the kinde Mother hearken to her sonne,
Nor to provoke her to the place to hie her,
Which seem'd not now on earthly feete to runne:
Slow to her selfe yet hasting as she flew,
(So fast affection forward did her beare)
As though forewafted with the breath she drew,
Borne by the force of nature and of feare,
Little the time, and little is the way,
And for her businesse eithers speede doth crave,
Yet in her haste bethinkes her what to say,
And how her selfe in presence to behave,
Slack shee'l not seeme lest to anothers trust
Her hopefull charge were happily directed,
Nor yet too forward shew her selfe she must,
Lest her sweet fraud thereby might be suspected;
Com'n she doth bow her humbly to the ground,
And every joynt incessantly doth tremble,
Gladnesse and feare each other so confound,
So hard a thing for Mothers to dissemble.
Saith this sweet Termuth, well I like thy beautie,
Nurse me this Childe (if it thy state behoove)
Although a Prince ile not enforce thy dutie,
But pay thy labour, and reward thy love:
Though even as Gods is Pharaohs high command,
And as strong Nature so precise and strict,
There rests that power yet in a Princesse hand,
To free one Hebrew from this strong edict:
That shall in rich abilliments be dight,
Deck'd in the Jems that admirabl'st shine,
Wearing our owne roabe gracious in our sight,
Free in our Court, and nourished for mine:
Love him deare Hebrew as he were thine owne,
Good Nurse be carefull of my little Boy,
In this to us thy kindenesse may be showne,
Some Mothers griefe, is now a Maydens joy.

This while all mute, the poore astonish'd Mother,
With admiration as transpearced stood,
One bursting joy doth so confound another,
Passion so powerfull in her ravish'd blood.
Whisp'ring some soft words which delivered were,
As rather seem'd her silence to impart,
And being inforc'd from bashfulnesse and feare,
Came as true tokens of a gracefull heart.
Thus she departs her husband to content,
With this deare present backe to him she brought,
Making the time short, telling each event,
In all shapes joy presented to her thought.
Yet still his manly modesty was such
(That his affections strongly so controlde,)
As if joy seem'd his manly heart to touch,
It was her joy and gladnesse to behold:
When all rejoyc'd unmov'd thereat the whiles,
In his grave face such constancie appeares,
As now scarse shewing comfort in his smiles,
Nor then revealing sorrow in his teares:
Yet oft beheld it with that stedfast eye,
Which though it sdain'd the pleasdnesse to confesse,
More in his lookes in fulnesse there did lie,
Than all their words could any way expresse.

In time the Princesse playing with the Childe,
In whom she seem'd her chiefe delight to take,

Josephus. Pet. Comestor.

With whom she oft the wearie time beguil'd,
That as her owne did of this Hebrew make:
It so fell out as Pharaoh was in place,
Seeing his daughter in the Childe to joy,
To please the Princesse, and to doe it grace,
Himselfe vouchsafes to entertaine the Boy:
Whose shape and beautie when he did behold
With much content his Princely eye that fed,
Giving to please it, any thing it would,
Set his rich Crowne upon the Infants head,
Which this weake Childe regarding not at all
(As such a Babie carelesly is meete)
Unto the ground the Diadem let fall
Spurning it from him with neglectfull feete.
Which as the Priests beheld this ominous thing
(That else had past unnoted as a toy)
As from their skill report unto the King,
This was the man that Egypt should destroy.
Tolde by the Magi that were learn'd and wise,
Which might full well the jealous King enflame,
Said by th'Egyptian ancient prophecies
That might give credite easlier to the same.
She as discreete as she was chaste and faire,
With Princely gesture and with count'nance milde
By things that hurtfull and most dangerous were
Showes to the King the weakenesse of the Childe:
Hot burning coales doth to his mouth present,
Which he to handle simply doth not sticke,
This little foole, this retchlesse Innocent
The burning gleed with his soft tongue doth licke:
Which though in Pharaoh her desire it wrought,
His babish imbecilitie to see,
To the Childes speech impediment it brought,
From which he after never could be free.

The Childe grew up, when in his manly face
Beautie was seene in an unusuall cheere,
Such mixtures sweet of comelinesse and grace
Likely apparell'd in complexion cleere.
The part of earth contends with that of heaven,
Both in their proper puritie excelling,
To whether more preheminence was given,
Which should excell the dweller or the dwelling.
Mens usuall stature he did farre exceede,
And every part proportioned so well,
The more the eye upon his shape did feede,
The more it long'd upon the same to dwell:
Each joynt such perfect Harmonie did beare,
That curious judgement taking any lim
Searching might misse to match it any where,
Nature so fail'd in parallelling him:
His haire bright yellow, on an arched brow
Sate all the beauties kinde could ever frame,
And did them there so orderly bestow,
As such a seate of majestie became.
As time made perfect each exteriour part,
So still his honour with his yeeres encreas'd,
That he sate Lord in many a tender heart,
With such high favours his faire youth was bless'd.

So fell it out that Æthiop warre began,
Invading Egypt with their armed powers,
And taking spoiles, the Country over-ran
To where as Memphis vaunts her climing Towers.
Wherefore they with their Oracles conferre
About th'event, which doe this answere make,
That if they would transport this civill warre,
They to their Captaine must an Hebrew take.
And for faire Moyses happily was growne
Of so great towardnesse and especiall hope,
Him they doe choose as absolutest knowne
To leade their power against the Æthiope.
Which they of Termuth hardly can obtaine,
Though on their Altars by their Gods they vowe
Him to deliver safe to her againe,
(Once the warre ended) safe as he was now.
Who for the way the Armie was to passe,
That by th'Egyptians onely was intended,
Most part by water, more prolixious was
Than present perill any whit commended:
To intercept the Æthiopians wrought
A way farre nearer who their Legions led,
Which till that time impassible was thought,
Such store of Serpents in that place was bred:
Devis'd by Birds this danger to eschew,
Whereof in Egypt he exceeding store,
The Storke, and Ibis, which he wisely knew,
All kindes of Serpents naturally abhore.
Which he in Baskets of Ægyptian reede,
Borne with his caridge easely doth convay,
And where incampeth sets them forth to feede,
Which drive the Serpents presently away.
Thus them preventing by this subtill course,
That all their succour sodainly bereft,
When Æthiop flies before th'Egyptian force,
Shut up in Saba their last refuge left.
Which whilst with strait siedge they beleagred long,
The Kings faire Daughter haps him to behold,
And became fettered with affection strong,

Comester.

Which in short time could hardly be controlde.
Tarbis that kindled this rebellious rage,
That they to Egypt tributorie were,
When the olde King decrepit now with age,
She in his stead the soveraigntie did beare.
Up to his Tower where she the Camp might see,
To looke her new Love every day she went,
And when he hap'ned from the field to be,
She thought her blest beholding but his Tent,
And oftentimes doth modestly invay
'Gainst him the Citie walled first about,
That the strong site should churlishly denay
Him to come in, or her for passing out,
Had the gates beene but softned as her breast
(That to behold her loved enemie stands)
He had ere this of Saba beene possest,
And therein planted the Egyptian bands:
Oft from a place as secretly she might
(That from her Pallace look'd unto his Tent)
When he came forth appearing in his sight,
Shewing by signes the love to him she ment.
For in what armes it pleas'd him to be dight,
After the Hebrew or th'Egyptian guise:
He was the bravest, the most goodly wight
That ever graced Æthiop with his eyes.
And finding meanes to parley from a place,
By night, her passion doth to him discover,
To yeeld the Citie if he would embrace
Her a true Princesse, as a faithfull Lover.
The feature of so delicate a Dame,
Motives sufficient to his youth had beene,
But to be Lord of Kingdomes by the same,
And of so great and absolute a Queene,
Soone gently stole him from himselfe away,
That doth to him such rarities partake,
Off'ring so rich, so excellent a prey,
Loving the treason for the Traytors sake.

But whilst he lived in this glorious vaine,
Israel his conscience oftentimes doth move,
That all this while in Egypt did remaine
Vertue and grace o'recomming youth and love.
And though God knowes unwilling to depart,
From so high Empire wherein now he stood,
And her that sate so neere unto his heart,
Such power hath Israel in his happie blood,
By skill to quit him forcibly he wrought,
As he was learn'd and traded in the starres,
Both by the Hebrewes, and th'Egyptians taught,
That were the first, the best Astronomers,
Two sundry figures makes, whereof the one
Cause them that weare it all things past forget,
As th'other of all accidents foregone

Comester ex Vet. Script.

The memory as eagerly doth whet.
Which he insculped in two likely stones,
For rarenesse of invaluable price,
And cunningly contriv'd them for the nones
In likely rings of excellent devise:
That of oblivion giving to his Queene,
Which soone made show the violent effect
Forgot him straight as he had never beene,
And did her former kindenesses neglect.
The other (that doth memorie assist)
Him with the love of Israel doth enflame,
Departing thence not how the Princesse wist,
In peace he leaves her as in warre he came.
But all the pleasures of th'Egyptian Court,
Had not such power upon his springing yeeres,
As had the sad and tragicall report
Of the rude burdens captiv'd Israel beares,
Nor what regards he to be grac'd of Kings?
Or flatred greatnes idely to awaite?
Or what respects he the negotiating
Matters comporting Emperie and State?
The bondage and servilitie that lay
On buried Israel (sunke in ordurous slime)
His greeved spirit downe heavily doth way,
That to leane care oft leant the prosperous time.
A wreched Hebrew hap'ned to behold
Brus'd with sad burdens without all remorse
By an Egyptian barb'rously controlde,
Spurning his pin'd and miserable corse
Which he beholding vexed as he stood,
His faire veines swelling with impatient fire,
Pittie and rage so wrestled in his blood
To get free passage to conceaved ire,
Rescuing the man th'Egyptian doth resist:
(Which from his vile hands forcibly he tooke)
And by a strong blowe with his valiant fist,
His hatefull breath out of his nostrils strooke,
Which though his courage boldly dare averre,
In the proud power of his Emperious hand,
Yet from high honour deigneth to interre,
The wretched carkasse in the smouldring sand.
Which then supposd in secret to be wrought,
Yet still hath Envie such a jealous eye,
As foorth the same incontinent it sought,
And to the King delivered by and by,
Which soone gave vent to Pharo's covered wrath,
Which till this instant reason did confine,
Opening a strait way, and apparant path
Unto that greate and terrible designe:
Most for his safety forcing his retreate
When now affliction every day did breed,
And when revengfull tyrannie did threate
The greatest horrour to the Hebrew seed.
To Midian now his Pilgrimage he tooke,
Midian earthes onely Paradice for pleasures,
Where many a soft Rill, many a sliding Brooke,
Through the sweet vallies trip in wanton measures,
Whereas the curl'd Groves and the flowrie fields,
To his free soule so peaceable and quiet
More true delight and choise contentment yeelds,
Than Egipts braveries and luxurious diet:
And wandring long he hap'ned on a Well,
Which he by pathes frequented might espie,
Bordred with trees where pleasure seem'd to dwell,
Where to repose him, eas'ly downe doth lie:
Where the soft windes did mutually embrace,
In the coole Arbours Nature there had made,
Fanning their sweet breath gently in his face
Through the calme cincture of the am'rous shade.
Till now it nigh'd the noone-stead of the day,
When scorching heat the gadding Heards do grieve,
When Shepheards now and Heardsmen every way,
Their thirsting Cattell to the Fountaine drive:
Amongst the rest seven Shepheardesses went
Along the way for watring of their Sheepe,
Whose eyes him seemed such reflection sent,
As made the Flocks even white that they did keepe:
Girles that so goodly and delightfull were,
The fields were fresh and fragrant in their viewe,
Winter was as the Spring time of the yeere,
The grasse so proud that in their footsteps grewe:
Daughters they were unto a holy man,
(And worthy too of such a Sire to be)
Jethro the Priest of fertile Midian,
Few found so just, so righteous men as he.
But see the rude Swaine, the untutour'd slave,
Without respect or rev'rence to their kinde,
Away their faire flocks from the water drave,
Such is the nature of the barb'rous Hinde.
The Maides (perceaving where a stranger sat)
Of whom those Clownes so basely did esteeme,
Were in his presence discontent thereat,
Whom hee perhaps improvident might deeme.
Which he perceaving kindely doth entreate,
Reproves the Rusticks for that off'red wrong,
Averring it an injurie too great,
To such (of right) all kindenesse did belong.
But finding well his Oratorie faile,
His fists about him frankly he bestowes,
That where perswasion could not late prevaile,
He yet compelleth quickly by his blowes.
Entreates the Dam'sels their aboade to make,
(With Courtly semblance and a manly grace,)
At their faire pleasures quietly to take,
What might be had by freedome of the place.
Whose beautie, shape, and courage they admire,
Exceeding these, the honour of his minde,
For what in mortall could their hearts desire,
That in this man they did not richly finde?
Returning sooner then their usuall hower,
All that had hapned to their Father tould,
That such a man reliev'd them by his power,
As one all civill curtesie that could:
Who full of bountie hospitably meeke
Of his behaviour greatly pleas'd to heare,
Forthwith commands his servants him to seeke,
To honour him by whom his honour'd were:
Gently receives him to his goodly seat,
Feasts him his friends and families among,
And him with all those offices entreat,
That to his place and vertues might belong:
Whilst in the beauty of those goodly Dames,
Wherein wise Nature her owne skill admires,
He feeds those secret and impiercing flames,
Nurs'd in fresh youth, and gotten in desires:
Wonne with this man this princely Priest to dwell,
For greater hire then bounty could devise,
For her whose prayse makes prayse it selfe excell,
Fairer then fairenesse, and as wisedome wise.
In her, her Sisters severally were seene,
Of every one she was the rarest part,
Who in her presence any time had beene,
Her Angell eye transpierced not his heart?
For Zipora a Shepheards life he leads,
And in her sight deceives the subtill howres,
And for her sake oft robs the flowrie meades,
With those sweet spoiles t'enrich her rurall bowres.
Up to mount Horeb with his flocke he tooke,
The flocke wise Jethro willed him to keepe,
Which well he garded with his Shepheards crooke,
Goodly the Shepheard, goodly were the Sheepe:
To feede and folde full warily he knew,
From Fox and Wolfe his wandring flockes to free,
The goodli'st flowers that in the meadowes grew
Were not more fresh and beautifull than hee.
Gently his fayre flockes lessow'd he along,
Through the Frim pastures freely at his leasure,
Now on the hills, the vallies then among,
Which seeme themselves to offer to his pleasure.
Whilst featherd Silvans from each blooming spray,
With murm'ring waters wistly as they creepe,
Make him such musicke (to abridge the way,)
As fits a Shepheard company to keepe.
When loe that great and fearefull God of might
To that faire Hebrew strangely doth appeare,
In a bush burning visible and bright
Yet unconsuming as no fire there were:
With hayre erected and upturned eyes,
Whilst he with great astonishment admires,
Loe that eternall Rector of the skies,
Thus breathes to Moyses from those quickning fires,
Shake off thy Sandals (saith the thund'ring God)
With humbled feet my wondrous power to see.
For that the soyle where thou hast boldly trod,
Is most select and hallowed unto me:
The righteous Abraham for his God me knew,
Isaac and Jacob trusted in mine Name,
And did beleeve my Covenant was true,
Which to their seed shall propagate the same:
My folke that long in Egypt had beene bard,
Whose cries have entred heavens eternall gate,
Our zealous mercy openly hath heard,
Kneeling in teares at our eternall State.
And am come downe, them in the Land to see,
Where streames of milke through batfull Valleys flow,
And lushious hony dropping from the tree,
Load the full flow'rs that in the shadowes grow:
By thee my power am purposed to trie,
That from rough bondage shalt the Hebrewes bring,
Bearing that great and fearfull Embassie
To that Monarchall and Emperious King.
And on this Mountaine (standing in thy sight,)
When thou returnest from that conquered Land,
Thou hallow'd Altars unto me shalt light,
This for a token certainly shall stand.

O who am I? this wondring man replies,
A wretched mortall that I should be sent,
And stand so cleere in thine eternall eyes,
To doe a worke of such astonishment:
And trembling now with a transfixed heart,
Humbling himselfe before the Lord (quoth hee)
Who shall I tell the Hebrewes that thou art,
That giv'st this large commission unto me?
Say (quoth the Spirit from that impetuous flame)
Unto the Hebrewes asking thee of this,
That 'twas, I Am: which onely is my Name,
God of their Fathers, so my Title is:
Divert thy course to Goshen then againe,
And to divulge it constantly be bold,
And their glad eares attractively retaine,
With what at Sinay Abrahams God hath told:
And tell great Pharo, that the Hebrewes God
Commands from Egypt that he set you free,
Three journies thence in Desarts farre abroad,
To offer hallow'd sacrifice to mee.
But he refusing to dismisse you so,
On that proud King Ile execute such force
As never yet came from the Sling, the Bow,
The keen-edg'd Curt'lax, or the puisant Horse;
But if th'afflicted miserable sort
To idle incredulity inclin'd,
Shall not (quoth Moyses) credit my report,
That thou to me hast so great power assign'd.
Cast downe (saith God) thy Wand unto the ground,
Which hee obaying fearefully, beholde
The same a Serpent sodainly was found,
It selfe contorting into many a folde.
With such amazement Moyses doth surprise
With colde convulsions shrinking every vaine,
That his affrighted and uplifted eyes
Even shot with horrour, sinke into his braine.
But being encourag'd by the Lord to take
The ugly taile into his trembling hand,
As from a dreame he sudainely doth wake,
When at the instant it became a wand.
By the same hand into his bosome shut,
Whose eyes his withered leprosie abhor'd,
When forth he drewe it secondly be'ng put,
Unto the former puritie restor'd.
These signes he gives this sad admiring man,
Which he the weake incredulous should showe,
When this fraile mortall freshly now began
To forge new causes, why unfit to goe?
Egypt accusing to have done him wrong,
Scantling that bountie Nature had bestow'd,
Which had welnere depriv'd him of his tong,
Which to this office chiefely had beene ow'd:
When he whose wisdome Nature must obey,
In whose resistance reason weakely failes,
To whom all humane instances give way,
Gainst whom not subtill Argument prevailes
Thus doth reprove this idle vaine excuse,
Who made the mouth? who th'eie? or who the eare?
Or who deprives those organs of their use?
That thou thy imbecillitie should'st feare?
Thy brother Aaron commeth unto thee,
Which as thy Speaker purposely I bring,
To whom thy selfe even as a God shalt bee,
And he interpret to th'Egyptian King.
That when he at thy miracles shall wonder,
And wan with feare shall tremble at thy rod,
To feele his power that swayes the dreadfull thunder,
That is a jealous and a fearefull God.
Then shall mine owne selfe purchase me renowne,
And win me honour by my glorious deede
On all the Pharo's on th'Egyptian throne,
That this proud mortall ever shall succeede.