Iob Militant: Section 4

Satan the second time appeares,
Before th'Eternall, boldly dares
Maligne Iob tryed Faith afresh,
And gaines th'afflicting of his Flesh.

ONce more, when heavēs harmonious queristers
Appear'd before his Throne, (whose Ministers
They are, of his concealed will) to render
Their strict account of Iustice, and to tender
Th'accepted Sacrifice of highest praise,
(Warbled in Sonnets and celestiall Layes)
Satan came too, bold, as a hungry Fox,
Or ravinous Wolfe amid the tender Flockes,
Satan, (said then th'Eternall) from whence now
Hath thy imployments driven thee? whence com'st thou?
Satan replies: Great God of heavē & earth,
I come from tempting, and from making mirth:
To heare thy dearest children whine, and roare:
In briefe, I come, from whence I came before.
Said then th'Eternall, Hast thou not beheld
My servants Faith, how, like a seven-fold shield,
It hath defended his integrity
Against thy fiery Darts? Hath not thine Eye,
(Thine envious eye) perceiv'd how puely just
He stands, and perfect, worthy of the trust
I lent into his hand, persisting still
Iust, fearing God, eschewing what is ill?
'Twas not the losse of his so faire a Flock,
Nor sudden rape of such a mighty Stock;
'Twas neither losse of Servants, nor his Sonnes
Vntimely slaughter, (acted all at once)
Could make him quaile, or warpe so true a Faith,
Or staine so pure a Love; say (Satan) hath
Thy hand (so deepely counterfeiting mine)
Made him mistrust his God, or once repine?
Can there in all the earth, say, can there be
A man so Perfect, and so Iust, as He?
Replyes the Tempter, Lord, an outward losse
Hopes for repaire, it's but a common crosse:
I know thy servant's wise, a wise forecast,
Grieves for things present, not for things are past;
Perchance the tumour of his sullen heart,
Brookes losse of all, since he hath lost a part;
My selfe have Servants, who can make true boast,
They gave away as much, as he hath lost:
Others (which learning made so wisely mad)
Refuse such Fortunes, as he never had;
A Faith's not try'd by this uncertaine Tuch,
Others, that never knw thee, did as much:
Lend mee thy Power then, that I might once
But Sacrifice his Flesh, afflict his Bones,
And pierce his Hide, but for a moments space,
Thy Darling then would curse thee to thy Face
To which, th'Eternall thus: His body's thine,
To plague thy fill, withall I doe confine
Thy power to her ists: Afflict and teare
His flesh at pleasure: But his life forbeare.