University of Virginia Library

Of Preparation.

Qui se minus parat, periet.

Well was it spoken by the Oratour,
That in each worke we should prepare before
We did attempt, least too much rashnesse breede
A strange euent, for want of good take heede.
It's true indeed, for if we should dilate
On euery Fortune, ranke, degree, and state,
We should find out by due experience,
Nought fits successe so well as Prouidence.
For as in Armies, Chiefetaines doe prepare,
To ranke their Souldiers, and haue speciall care
That euery Troupe be rightly ordered,
To th'end their Hopes may be accomplished.
Or as in Builders, ere they will assay
To reare the walls, they first will make a way
For the foundation, that the ground-worke layd,
What they intend may better be assayd.
Or as in Plow-men, let this instance be,
Though last, yet first for their antiquitie;
First till the ground, as they doe thinke it neede,
Before they sow in it their hopefull seede;
So should each man before he doe depart,
Till and manure the furrowes of his heart,
That th'Earthly seed of his corruption may
Put incorruption on another day.
And like that holy Father, whom we reade,
That sleeping, waking, or what ere he did,
He heard this Summons sounding in his eare,
“Arise ye Dead to Iudgement come appeare.
Or that Deuout and Blest Anachorite,
Who thought himselfe still in his Sauiours sight;
And therefore fear'd to act ought that was ill,
Seeing his Iudge was present with him still.
But 'las how few now in the world be,
That thinke the Lord their secret sins can see,
Whilest working what is ill, they think't no shame
To violate the glorious stile or name
Of their profession, (and it seemes no lesse)
By seeming goodnesse, seeming holinesse.
“Many we haue can till the fruitfull ground,
“But for mind-tillage few or none are found.
How foolish, and how carelesse then are we,
To spoyle our soules for want of husbandry?
I know not how some others thinke of it,
But sure to me, it were a matter fit,
That we should make our preparation here,
Now whil'st we liue, least when we shall appeare
Before that Throne (as we of force must come)
Hearing our crimes, we stand (as men are dumbe)
Nothing to speake, whence shall ensue our hyre,
Depart yee hence into eternall fire.
Many there be, preparing still we see,
To raise a state to their Posteritie;
Which with as prodigall a hand is spent,
(For many times they know not how it went)
As ere their Dung-hill Fathers scraped it,
“For what's ill got should goe as ill, it's fit.
Others there be to gaine their pleasures, will
Prepare themselues t'attempt the worst of ill,
No worke's too great, no instrument too fowle,
(Though't raze their name, & damne their precious soule,)
Is vn-assai'd, till they their pleasure get,
Which once obtain'd, Repentance vshers it.
Others, for Honours, with ambitious wings,
Soare to the Crownes, and Diadems of Kings:
These will prepare their Engines to attaine,
What they expect, and what they make their ayme
Must be atchieu'd: there is no other way,
Hence is't they care by night, and carke by day.
And yet behold what fruit Ambition giues,
Her care's her curse, her-selfe of life depriues;
“For of all others, seldome seene I haue,
“Ambition goe gray-headed to her graue.
Others I see, which I am loath to see,
For it includeth Albyons miserie:
Prepare themselues, not as those Virgins did,
To haue their Lamps with oyle replenished:
But with adulterate Beauties, to ensnare
Our yongling Gallants, and with brayded hayre
In Azur'd brests layd open, painted cheeke,
Loose wandring eyes, their lustfull obiects seeke.
Which sought & found, that obiect which they spie,
Makes seeming fancie sparkle in their eye.
These with as varied formes (as we doe reade
Proteus ere had) change their phantasticke weed
From day to day (ô Heauen suppresse this sin)
For blest were we, if it had neuer bin.
But yet, for all this garish Vanitie,
Read but a Lecture of Mortalitie
To these She-Sainted Idolls, you shall finde,
Some small impressions of a Vertuous minde;
As such as haue their eyes vpon the Booke
Of sacred Writ, yet how ere they looke
Vpon the Text, the Preacher's busied in,
This Text's a Pretext, but to hide their sin:
“For how so ere their eyes may seeme to stay,
“Fixt on the Text, their heart's another way.
But know (faire pictures) though with many formes
You deceiue men, you cannot deceiue wormes.
Nor will th'account (that great account) you owe,
For all your trimnes be dispen'st with so.
Prepare you better Garments then be these,
For these I thinke will not your Maker please:
Making you such strange Monsters, as I doubt
His doome will be: Away I know you not.
Some more I see, which full as busie are
How to sow difference, and therefore care
Onely to gayne themselues a faire estate,
By others wrong, oppression, and debate.
These too prepare (but not as I could wish)
Their Nets, that they in others States may fish,
And slily too, lay their pretended Suites,
Filling their Clients heads with thousand doubts;
Protesting (God forgiue them) it would please
Them very well, their Client were at peace:
When priuately, with a dissembling heart,
They vow as much vnto the aduerse part.
Yet this's a sinne which craues a libertie,
Because our Lawes giue it impunitie;
And reason good (so's Conscience tyde to pelfe)
As th'best I know, may punish't in himselfe.
Many more of this sort I know there is,
Which make their preparation, but amisse;
Few so exactly doe it, as they should,
Which makes me speake more boldly then I would;
But he that curbs Me for't, I'le answer him,
I know not how to blush in taxing sinne,
Nor will I spare him though his splene should burst,
“But curse those vices which my God hath curst.
Yet with compassion, for I know I am
My selfe that writes, as subiect to the same
As they to whom I write: Yea I doe know
Till I haue pay'd to Nature what I owe,
There is no fact how great so ere it be
Committ'd by one, but may be done by me,
If he who in the heauens hath soueraigne place,
Should not preuent me by his speciall grace.
Yet I doe wish, and I am sure of this,
That Charitie's producer of my wish,
Each would prepare for one, that when we goe
From this same Vale of teares, and Sea of woe
To the iudicious triall of Gods Throne,
Each might be fit to giue account for one.
So euery soule might with affiance say
Vnto her God, in that same dreadfull day,
Thou bad and I obey'd, and being tride,
Like to fine Gold my soule was purifide:
“Thou wil'd, I went, thy loue was my delight,
“I sought, thy Grace did crowne me in the fight.
If this indeed were weigh'd, as it should be,
Men would depart from hence more willingly;
Knowing how Death would be a meanes to giue
Life to our soules, and make vs euer liue.
Some haue I knowne, who for the same intent
Haue in their life time rear'd their Monument,
That when so ere they look'd vpon their Tombe,
They might conceiue what would of them become.
Which Shebna did, (as we in Scripture reade)
Who built his Tombe before that he was dead;
And this proceedes from doubt in many one,
Of th'heires neglect when that the Father's gone;
But see what Fate poore Shebna had, for he
Hauing prepar'd a Tombe so gorgeously,
As Art and Nature could not both inuent
A more exact or curious Monument,
Enforced was (vaine man) through times disgrace,
To take his Buriall in another place.
This speake I not for to deterre such men,
(Sith such praise-worthie rites I honour them)
From their Endeuours, as desire to haue
Themselues and theirs successors in one graue:
For, it's a custome which may seeme to be,
Authoriz'd by diuine authoritie;
Sith auncient Patriarchs, and those which came
From Iacob, Isaac, and Abraham,
Were (as in sacred Writ is oft times red)
With their deceased Fathers buried.
Yea, there is nought I of my friends doe craue
More, then to lye within my Fathers graue:
That whom I liuing lou'd, taking my breath
From him, I may renew my loue in death.
But herein I doe taxe their vanitie,
Who doe prepare them Tombs where they may lye
In State like Princes, and doe glorie in
Those monumentall couers of their sinne;
Yet are respectlesse where their soules shall dwell,
This Preparation doth not like me well.
For it's preposterous, this couer should,
(Being compos'd of nothing else then mould)
Haue such exceeding honours to attend it,
While th'Soule has not one vertue to defend it.
Pure is the Bodies shrine, but filthie foule
Is that same shrowd, which doth enfold the soule.
This is the cause that makes me to deplore
These times so ill, that were so good before:
Where vertue raign'd, and as a soueraignesse,
Made the Soule glorie in her happinesse.
Where pure Deuotion, as an heauenly light,
Directed man to doe those things were right:
Where th'soule was precious held, and whose chiefe care
Was 'gainst the day of Vengeance to prepare.
Least vnprepar'd to answer for their sinne,
They knocke at gate, but may not be let in.
Well did that holy Father thinke of this,
(Which to obserue each of vs I could wish)
Who euery night before he went to bed,
To make this due account was 'customed,
Goe to my Soule, vse not a slight delay,
But answer me, What hast thou done to day?
What hast committed of those workes are ill,
Or what omitted that thou shoul'dst fulfill?
Whom hast thou wrong'd, whom hast thou iniured,
Where be those hungry, wch thou shuld'st haue fed?
Whō hast opprest? whence comes the orphanes tere,
The Widdows prayer? Soule, I must iudge thee here,
Least by deferring Iudgement to the last,
I pay more deare, for th'Actions which be last.
Thrice happie soule, that is so well prouided,
Before his soule from bodie be deuided:
With chearefull spirit may he hence depart,
With eyes erected, and with lightsome heart:
With soule-renewing comforts, and with peace,
With hope, with health, with Saints compleate encrease;
With zeale, with ioy, with hope of libertie,
To rest in him who ends our miserie.
O may we so liue in vnited loue,
That ones example may another moue;
So by Examples we at last shall come,
With ioy and triumph to the marriage-roome.