A Feast for Wormes: Section 2

But Ionah toward Tharsis went,
A Tempest doth his course prevent:
The Mariners are sore opprest,
While Ionah sleepes and takes his rest.

BVt Ionah thus bethought: The City's great,
And mighty Ashur stands with deadly threat;
Their hearts are hardued, that they cannot heare:
Will greene wood burne, when so unapt's the seire?
Strange is the charge: Shall I goe to a place
Vnknowne and forraigne? Aye me! hard's the case,
That righteous Isrel, must be thus neglected,
When Miscreants and Gentiles are respected:
How might I hope my words shall there succeed,
Which thrive not with the flockes I daily feed?
I know my God is gentle, and enlinde,
To tender mercy, apt to change his minde
Vpon the least repentance: Then shall I
Be deem'd as false, and shame my Prophecie.

O heavy burthen, of a doubtfull mind!
Where shall I goe, or which way shall I wind?
My heart like Ianus, looketh to and fro;
My Credit bids me, Stay; my God bids, Goe:
If Goe; my labour's lost, my shame's at hand:
If stay, Lord! I transgresse my Lords command:
If goe; from bad estate, to worse, I fall.
If stay, I slide from bad, to worst of all.
My God bids goe, my credit bids me stay:
My guilty feare bids fly another way.

So Ionah straight arose, himselfe bedight
With fit acoutrements, for hasty flight:
In stead of staffe, he tooke a Shipmans weed;
In stead of going, lo, he flyes with speed.
Like as a Hawke (that overmatcht with might)
Doing sad penance for th'unequall fight,
(Answring the Falkners second shout) does flee
From fist; turnes tayle to foule, and takes a tree:
So Ionah baulks the place where he was sent
(To Nineveh) and downe to Iaffa went:
He sought, enquired, and at last, he found
A welcome Ship, that was to Tharsis bound,
Where he may flye the presence of the Lord:
He makes no stay, but straightway goes aboord,
His hasty purse for bargaine findes no leisure,
(Where sinn delights, there's no account of treasure)
Nor did he know, nor aske, how much his Fare:
He gave: They tooke: all parties pleased are:
(How thriftlesse of our cost, and paines, are we,
Great God of heaven and earth, to fly from thee!)
Now have the sailors drunke their parting cup,
They goe aboord; The Sles are hoisting up;
The Anchor's wayd; the keele begins t'obey
Her gentle Rudder; leaves her quiet Key,
Divides the streames, and without winde or oare,
She easly glides along the moving shore:
Her swelling Canvace gives her nimbler motion,
Sh'outstrips the Tide, and hies her to the Ocean:
Forth to the deepe she launches, and outbraves
The prouder billowes, rides upon the waves;
She plies that course, her Compas hath enjoindher,
And soone hath left the lessned land behind her;
By this, the breath of heaven began to cease;
Calme were the Seas; the waves were all at peace;
The flagging mainsaile flapt against her yard,
The uselesse Compasse, and the idle Card
Were both neglected: Vpon every side
The gamesome Porpisce tumbled on the Tide.
Like as a Mastise, when restrain'd a while,
Is made more furious, and more apt for spoile,
Or when the breath of man, being bard the course,
At length breakes forth, with a farre greater force,
Even so the mider breath of heaven, at last,
Lets flye more fierce, and blowes a stronger blast;
All on a sudden darkned was the Sky
With gloomy clouds; heavens more refulgent eye
Was all obscur'd: The aire grew damp and cold,
And strong mouth'd Breas could no longer hold:
Eolus lets loose his uncontrouled breath,
Whose language threatens nothing under death:
The Rudder failes; The ship's at random driven;
The eye no object ownes, but Sea and Heaven:
The Welkin stormes, and rages more and more,
The raine powres down; the heavens begin to rore
As they would split the massie Globe in sunder,
From those that live above, to those live under;
The Pilot's frighted; knowes not what to doe,
His Art's amaz'd, in such a maze of woe;
Faces grow sad: Prayers and complaints are rise;
Each one's become an Orator for life:
The Windes above, the waters underneath,
Ioyne in rebellion, and conspire death.
The Seamens courage now begins to quaile
Some ply the plump, whilst others strike the aile,
Their hands are busie, while their hearts despaire,
Their feares and dangers move their lips to praier:
They praid, but winds did snatch their words away,
And lets their pray'rs not go to whom they pray:
But still they pray, but still the wind and weather
Do turn both ship & prai'rs they know not whether:
Their gods were deafe, their danger waxed greater;
They cast their wares out, and yet ne're the better:
But all this while was Ionah drown'd in sleepe,
And in the lower decke was buried deepe.