X. PSALMS CXLIII. II.
Enter not into judgement with thy servant, for in thy sight shall no man living bee justified.
Jesus. Justice. Sinner.
Jesus:
Bring forth the prisner, Justice.
Justice:
Thy comands
Are done, just Judge; See, here the prisner stands
Jesus:
What has the prisner done? Say; what's the cause
Of his committment?
Justice:
He has broken the lawes
Of his too gracious God; conspir'd the death
Of that great Majesty that gave him breath.
And heapes transgression, Lord, upon transgression:
Jesus:
How know'st thou this?
Justice:
Ev'n by his own confession:
His sinnes are crying; and they cry'd aloud;
They cry'd to heav'n; they cry'd to heav'n for blood:
Jesus:
What sayst thou sinner? Hast thou ought to plead,
That sentence should not passe? Hold up thy head,
And shew thy brazen, thy rebellious face.
Sinner:
Ah me! I dare not: I'm too vile, and base,
To tread upon thy earth, much more, to lift
Mine eyes to heav'n; I need no other shrift
Than mine owne conscience; Lord, I must confesse,
I am no more than dust, and no whit less
Than my Inditement stiles me; Ah, if thou
Search too severe, with too severe a Brow,
What Flesh can stand? I have transgrest thy lawes;
My merits plead thy vengeance; not my cause.
Justice:
Lord shall I strike the blow?
Jesus:
Hold, Justice, stay,
Sinner, speake on; what hast thou more to, say?
Sinner:
Vile as I am, and of my selfe abhor'd,
I am thy handy-worke, thy creature, Lord,
Stampt with thy glorious Image, and first,
Most like to thee, though now a poore accurst
Convicted Caitiffe, and degen'ous creature,
Here trembling at thy Bar.
Justice:
Thy fault's the greater;
Lord shall I strike the blow?
Jesus:
Hold, Justice, stay,
Speake, sinner; hast thou nothing more to say?
Sinner:
Nothing but Mercy, Mercy; Lord, my state
Is miserably poore, and desperate;
I quite renounce my selfe, the world, and flee
From Lord to Jesus; from thy selfe, to Thee,
Justice:
Cease thy vaine hopes; my angry God has vow'd:
Abused mercy must have blood for blood:
Shall I yet strike the blow?
Jesus:
Stay, Justice, hold;
My bowels yearne, my fainting blood growes cold,
To view the trembling wretch; Me thinks, I spye
My fathers Image in the prisners eye:
Justice:
I cannot hold.
Jesus:
Then turne thy thirsty blade
Into my sides: let there the wound be made
Cheare up, deare soule; Redeeme thy life with mine:
My soule shall smart; My heart shall bleed for thine.
Sinner:
O ground-lesse deepes! O love beyond degree!
Th'offended dies, to set th'offender free.
S. AUGUST.
Lord, if I have done that, for which thou mayest damne me: thou hast not
lost that, whereby thou mayest save me: Remember not, sweet Jesus, thy Justice
against the sinner, but thy benignity towards thy Creature: Remember not to
proceed against a guilty soule, but remember thy mercy towards a miserable
wretch: Forget the insolence of the provoker, and behold the misery of the
invoker; for what is Jesus but a Saviour.
ANSELM.
Have respect to what thy Sonne hath done for me, and forget what my sinnes
have done against thee: My flesh hath provoked thee to vengeance; let the flesh
of Christ move thee to mercy: It is much that my rebellions have deserved; but
it is more that my Redeemer hath merited.
EPIGRAM 10.
[Mercy of mercies! He that was my drudge]
Mercy of mercies! He that was my drudge
Is now my Advocate, is now my Judge:
He suffers, pleads, and sentences, alone;
Thee I adore, and yet adore but One.
