Piety, and Poesy Contracted, In a Poetick Miscellanie of Sacred Poems. By Tho: Jordan |
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Saul and the Witch
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 | Piety, and Poesy |  |
Saul and the Witch
Saul.Thou learned Mother of mysterious Arts,
I come to know what thy deep skill imparts
By Necromancie: Thou whose awfull power
Can raise winds, thunder, lightnings, canst deflower
The Spring of her new Crop: Of thee I crave
That thou wilt raise some spirit from the grave,
Who may divine unto me, whether Fate
Will make me happy, or unfortunate
In my next Enterprize.
Witch.
Strange Man forbear;
Whose Craft instructed thee to set a snare
For my most wretched Life? Dost thou not know
King Saul proclaims himself a mortal foe
To our black Colledge? Hath not his Command
Ruin'd the great'st Magicians of the Land?
Is't not enough, I am confin'd to dwell
In the dark building of an unknown Cell,
Where I converse with nought, but Batts and Owls,
Ravens and night-Crows, who, from dismal holes,
I send to sick-mens windows, to declare
Death's Embassie, to the offended Ear
Of the declining Patient: Wherefore (pray)
Seek ye this horrid Mansion, to betray
The haplesse Owner?
Sau.
Woman do not fear,
I do not seek thee out, or set a snare
To get thy Life; for; finish my intent,
As the Lord lives, there is no punishment
A gratefull debtor to thy Art and Thee:
Be speedy then. Oh! how I long to hear
The Message of my Fate!
Wit.
Whom shall I rear?
Sau.
Old Samuel.
Wit.
'Tis done. Ye Fiends below,
That wait upon our will, one of you goe,
Assume the shape of Samuel, and appear,
With such a Voice, and Likenesse: or declare
The Reason why you cannot; for I fear,
Ye dare not do it.
Spirit.
Dare not? I am here.
Wit.
Oh! I am lost; the unknown Fates decree
Have set a period to my Art and Me.
Why didst thou thus thy Royalty obscure,
To take me Acting my Designs impure;
In th' midst of them for to contrive my fall;
So sure my Death is, as thy Name is Saul.
Sau.
Though thou divin'st me right, yet do not fear,
But let me understand, what did appear
After thy Incantations?
Wit.
You shall know:
I saw immortal Gods rise from below,
And after them, a Rev'rend aged Man,
Out of the Deep (with speedy passage) ran,
Lapt in a Mantle, his white gentle Hairs
Express'd a Brief of many well-spent years:
Within whose Cheeks, bright Innocence did move,
His Eys reverted to the Joys above,
To hear your will, and terminate your fears.
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