The Second Week, Fourth Day, Book IV: The Decay

THE ARGUMENT.

Ambition's bitter fruit, fel Achab's Stock,
With his proud Queen (a painted Beauty-mock)
Extirpt by IEHV, IEHV's ligne likewise
Shallum supplants. King-killing Treacheries
Succeed a-rowe, with Wrack of ISRAEL.
Time-suiting Batts. Athaliah Tigress fel.
IOASH well-nurtur'd, natur'd-ill, doth run
After his kinde: he kills his Tutor's Son.
ZENACHERIB: life-lengthned EZECHIAH:
NABVCHADNEZAR: Captiue ZEDECHIAH.

HVff-pufft AMBITION, Tinder-box of WAR,
Down-fall of Angels, Adam's murderer,
Patent of Treasons, Reason's Contradiction,
Earth's Enemie, and the Heav'ns Malediction,
O! how much Blood hath thy respect-lesrage
Shed in the World! showred on every Age!
O! Scepter's, Throne's, and Crown's insatiat Thirst,
How-many Treasons hast thou hatched yerst!

For, O! what is it that he dares not do,
Who th' helm of Empire doth aspire vnto?
He (to beguile the simple) makes no bone
To swear by God (for he beleeues ther's none);
His Sword's his Title; and who scapes the same,
Shall haue a Pistol, or a Poysonie dram:
Hee, fear'd of all, fears all: he breaks at once
The chains of Nature and of Nations:
Sick of the Father, his kinde hart is woe,
The good Old-man travails to Heav'n, so slowe:
His owne deer Babes (yet Cradled, yet in Clouts)
Haste but too-fast; are at his heels, hee doubts:
He passeth to his promis'd Happiness,
Vpon a Bridge of his Friends Carcases;
And Mounts (in fine) the golden Throne, by stayrs
Built of the Sculs of his owne Country's heirs.
Yet, thou permit t'st it, Lord; nay, with thy wings,
Coverest such Tyrants (even the shame of Kings).
But, not for nothing doo'st thou them for bear;
Their cruell scalps a cruell end shall tear:
And, when the Measure of their Sin is full,
Thy Hands are iron, though thy Feet be woll.
The Throne of Tyrants totters to and fro:
The blood-gained Scepter lasts not long (we knowe):
Nail driveth Nail: by tragik death device,
Ambitious harts doo play at leuel sice;
Prov'd but too plain, in both the Houses Royall
Of Iacobs issue, but too-too dis-loyall:
As, if thou further with thy grace divine
My Verse and Vows, shall heer appear (in time).

GOD NOW no longer could support th' excess
Of Achab's House, whose cursed wickedness
Was now top-full: and, Doggs already stood
Fawning and yawning for their promis'd blood.
Heav'ns haste their Work. Now, in tumultuous wise,
'Gainst Achab's Son doo his owne Soldiars rise;
Iehu's their Captain: who fore-sees, afar,
How-much, dispatch advantageth in War;
And, politik, doubles his Armie's speed,
To get before, yea, before Fame, indeed.

Ioram, surpris'd in feeble Bull-warks then
Vnfurnished of Victualls and of Men)
And, chiefly, wanting royall fortitude,
Vn-kingly yeelds vnto the Multitude.

Bold Nimshi's Son, Sir Iehu, what's this Thing?
What mean these Troups? what would you of the King?
Where shall the bolt of this black Thunder fall?
Say, bring'st thou Peace? or bring'st thou War, withall?
Sayd Ioram, lowd: but, Iehu lowder saith,
No (wretch) no Peace, but bloody Wars and death.
Then fled the King: and (as a Ship at Sea,
Hearing the Heav'ns to threaten every way,
And Winter Storms with absent Stars compact,
With th' angrie Waters to conspire her wrack,
Strives not to ride it out, or shift abroad,
But plyes her Oares, and flyes into the Road)
He ierks his Iades, and makes them scour amain,
Through thick and thin, both over Hill and Plain.

Which, Iehu spying, and well eying too,
As quick resolved what he hath to doo;
Cryes, Boy, my Bowe: then nocks an Arrow right,
His left hand meets the head, his brest the right;
As bends his Bowe, he bends; lets go the string:
Through the thin air, the winged shaft doth sing
King Ioram's Dirgé; and, to speed the more,
Pearces behinde him, and peeps-out before.

The Prince, now hurt (that had before no hart)
Fall's present dead, and with his Courtly-Cart
Bruis'd in the Fall (as had the Thisbite sayd)
The Field of Naboth with his blood berayd:
And Salem's King had also there his dew,
For ioyning hands with so profane a Crew.
Then, the proud Victor leads his loyall Troops
Towards the Court (that all in silence droops);
And, more for Self's loue, than for God's pure zeale,
Means to dispatch th' Earth's burthen Iezabel.

The Queen had inkling: instantly she sped
To curl the Cockles of her new-bought head:
Th' Onyx, the Saphyr, Garnet, Diamand,
In various forms, cut by a curious hand,
Hang nimbly dancing in her hair, as spangles:
Or as the fresh red-yellow Apple dangles
(In Autumn) on the Tree, when to and fro
The Boughs are waved with the windes that blowe.

The vpper garment of the stately Queen,
Is rich gold Tissu, on a ground of green;
Where th' art-ful shuttle rarely did encheck
The cangeant colour of a Mallards neck:
Tis figur'd o're with sundrie Flowrs and Fruits,
Birds, Beasts, and Insects, creeping Worms, and N•uts,
Of Gold-Smith's Work: a fringe of Gold about,
With Pearls and Rubies richly rare set-out,
Borders her Robe: and euery part descries
Cunning and Cost, contending for the prize.

Her neat, fit, startups of green velvet bee,
Flourisht with silver, and beneath the knee,
Moon-like, indented; but t'ned down the side
With Orient Pearls, as big as Filberd's pride.

But, besides all her sumptuous equipage
(Much fitter for her State, then for her age)
Close in her Closet, with her best Complexions,
She mends her Face's wrinkle-full defections,
Her Cheek she cherries, and her Ey she cheers,
And fains her (fond) a Wench of fifteen yeers;
Whether she thought to snare the Dukes affection:
Or dazle, with her pompous Prides reflection,
His daring eyes (as Fowlers, with a Glass,
Make mounting •arks com down to death apace):
Or, were it, that in death she would beseen
(As 'twere) interi'd in Tyrian Pomp, a Queen.

Chaste Lady-Mayds, heer must I speak to you,
That with vile Paynting spoyl your natiue hue
(Not to inflame yonglings with wanton Thirst;
But to keep fashion with these Times accurst)
When one new taen, in your seem-Beauties snare,
That day and night to Hymen makes his Prayer,
At length espies (as who is it but spyes?)
Your painted brests, your painted cheeks, and eyes,
His Cake is dough; God dild you, he will none;
He leaues his Suit, and thus he saith anon:
What should I doo with such a wanton Wife,
Which night and day would cruciate my life
With Ieloux pangs? sith every-way she sets
Her borrow'd snares (not her owne hairs) for Nets.
To catch her Cuckows; with loose, light Attires,
Opens the door vnto all lewd Desires?
And, with vile Druggs, adultering her Face,
Closely allures th' Adulterer's Imbrace.

But, Iudge the best: suppose (saith he) I ••nde
My Lady Chaste, in body and in minde
(As sure I think): yet, will she Me respect,
That dares disgrace th' eternall Architect?
That (in her pride) presumes his Work to tax
Of imperfection; to amend his tracts,
To help the Colours which his hand hath laid,
With her frail fingers with foul durt berayd?
Shall I take her, that will spend all I have,
And all her time, in pranking proudly-braue?

How did I doat! The Gold vpon her head,
The Lillies of her brests, the Rosie red.
In either Cheek, and all her other Riches,
Where-with she bleareth sight, and sense bewitches;
Is none of hers: it is but borrow'd stuff,
Or stoln, or bought, plain Counterfeit in proof:
My glorious Idol I did so adore,
Is but a Visard, newly varnisht ore
With spauling Rheums, hot fumes, and Ceruses:
Fo, fy; such Poysons one would loath to kiss:
Iwed (at least, I ween I wed) a Lass
Yong, fresh, and fair: but, in a year (alas!)
Or two, at most; my lovely lively Bride.
I• turn'd a Hagg, a Fury by my side;
With hollow, yellow teeth (or none perhaps)
With stinking breath, swart-cheeks, and hanging chaps;
With wrinkled neck; and stooping as she goes,
With driveling mouth, and with a sniveling nose.

The Queen, thus pranked, proudly gets her vp
(But sadly though) to her gilt Palace top;
And, spying Iehu, from the window cry'd:
Art thou there, Zimri, cursed Paricide,
Fell Maister-killer, canst thou chuse but fear
For like Offence, like punishment severe?

Bitch, cryes the Duke, art Thou there barking still?
Thou, Strumpet, Thou art Cause of all this Ill:
Thou, brought'st Samaria to Thine Idol-Sin:
Painting and Poysning, first thou broughtest in
To Court and Country, with a thousand mo
Loose Syrian Vices, which I shame to showe.
Thou brought'st-in Wrong, with rapine and Oppression,
By Periurie supplanting Mens Possession
And Life with-all: yea, Thou hast been the Baen
Of Peers and Seers (at thy proud pleasure slain):
Thou, life of Strife, thou Horse-leach sent from Hell,
Thou Drouth, Thou Dearth, Thou Plague of Israel,
Now shalt thou dye: Groomes (is their none for me?)
Quick, cast her down, down with her instantly.

O tickle Faith! O fickle Trust of Court.
These Palace-mice, this busie-idle sort
Of fawning Minions, full of sooths and smiles,
These Carpet-Knights had vow'd and sworn yer-whiles,
Promis'd, protested vnto Iezabel,
Rav'd, Brav'd, and band (like Rodomont in Hell)
That in her cause they every Man would die,
And all the World, and Hell and Heav'n defie;
Now, Icy Fear (shivering in all their bones)
Makes them with Fortune turn their backs at-once.
They take their Queen between their traytorous hands,
And hurl her headlong, as the Duke Commands;
Whose Courser, snorting, stamps (in stately skorn)
Vpon the Corps that whilom Kings had born:
And, to fulfill from point to point the Word
Elijah spake (as Legat of the Lord)
The doggs about doo greedy feed vpon
The rich-perfumed, royall Carrion:
And Folk by thousands issuing at the Gate,
To see the sight, cry thus (as gladther-at)
Ses, ses, heer Doggs, heer Bitches, doo not spare
This Bitch that gnaw'd her subiects bones so bare;
This cruell Cur, that made you oft becom
Saints Torturers, and many a Prophets Tomb:
This Whore of Baal, tear her so small, that well
No man may say, Heer lyeth Iezabel.

Iehu's drad Vengeance doth yet farther flowe;
Curst Achab's issue he doth wholly mowe:
He slayes (more-over) two and forty men
Of Ahaziah's hap-les Bretheren:
Baal's idoll Clergy he doth bring to nought,
And his proud Temple turns into a Draught:
Good proofs of Zeal. But yet, a Diadem,
Desire of Raign, keeps from Ierusalem
His service due; content (at home) by halves
To worship God, vnder the form of Calves.

His Son and Nephews, track too-neer his trace;
And therefore Shallum doth vn-horse his race:
The murderer Shallum (after one Months Raign)
By Manahem, as murdrously is slain:
The traytor Manahem's wicked-walking Son,
By trayterous Pekah vnto death is don:
And so, on Pekah, for Pekaiah's death,
Hosheah's treason, treason quittanceth;
Aproud, in grate, perfidious troublous King,
That to Confusion did Samaria bring.

Their Towns trans-villag'd, the Ten Tribes, transported
To a far Clime (whence never they reverted)
Soiourn in forein soyl, where Chobar's streams
Serve them for Iordan; Basan, Chison seems:
While Assur's scorn, and scum of Euphrates
Dance vp and down th' Isaacian Palaces,
Drink their best Nectars, anchor in their Ports,
And lodge profanely in their strongest Forts.

But, changing air, these change not minde (in Iewry).
For, though fierce Lions homicidial fury
Make them retire vnder th' Almightie's wing,
Their Country Gods with the true God they ming:
They mix his Service, plough with Ass and Ox;
Disguise his Church in suits of Flax and Flocks,
Cast (in one wedge) Iron and Gold together:
Iew-Gentiles, both at-once: but, both is neither.

There is a Tale, that once the Hoast of Birds,
And all the Legions of Groue-haunting Heards,
Before the Earth ambitiously did striue,
And counter-plead, for the Prerogatiue:
Now, while the Iudge was giving audience,
And either side in their seem-Rights defence
Was hot and earnest at the noyse-full Bar,
The neuter Bat stood fluttering still afar:
But she no sooner hears the sentence past
On the Beasts side, but shuffling her in haste
Into their Troop, she them accompanieth,
Showes her large forhead, her long ears, and teeth.

The Cause was (after) by Appeal remov'd
To Nature's Court; who by her Doom approv'd
The others Plea: then flyes the shame-les Bat
Among the Birds, and with her Chit-chit-chat
Shee seems to sing; and proud of wings, she playes
With nimble turns, and flyes a thousand wayes.

Hence, beak-les Bird, hence, winged-Beast (they cryed)
Hence, plume-les wings (thus scorn her, either side)
Hence, harlot, hence; this ever be thy Dole;
Be still Day's Prisoner in thy shamefull hole:
May never Sun (vile Monster) shine on thee:
But th' hate of all, for ever, may'st thou be.

Such is this People: for, in plentious showrs
When God his Blessings vpon Isaak powrs,
Then are they Isaak's Sons: but, if with thunder
He wrath-full tear the Hebrue Tree in sunder,
These Traytors rake the boughs, and take the Fruit;
And (Pagans then) the Iews they persecute.

And such are those, whose wily, waxen minde
Takes euery Seal, and sails with euery Winde;
Not out of Conscience, but of Carnall motion,
Of Fear, or Fauour, Profit, or Promotion:
Those that to ease their Purse, or please their Prince,
Pern their Profession, their Religion mince;
Prince-Protestants, Prince-Catholiks; Precise,
With Such a Prince; with other, otherwise:
Yea, oldest Gangraens of blinde-burning Zeal
(As the Kings Evill) a new KING can heal.

And those Scoene-servers that so loud haue crid
Gainst Prelats sweeping in their silken Pride,
Their wilfull Dumbness, forcing others dumb
(To Sion's grieuous Loss and Gain of Rome)
Their Courting, Sporting, and Non-residence,
Their Avarice, their Sloath, and Negligence:
Till som fat Morsels in their mouths do fall;
And then, as choakt, and sodain chang'd with-all,
Them-selues exceed in all of these, much more
Than the Right Reverend whom they taxt before.

And those Chamaeleons that con-sort their Crew;
In Turky, Turks; among the Iewes, a Iew;
In Spain, as Spain: as Luther, on the Rhine:
With Calvin heer: and there, with Bellarmine:
Loose, with the Lewd: among the gracious, graue:
With Saints, a Saint: and among Knaues a Knaue.

But all such Neuters, neither hot nor cold,
Such double Halters between GOD and GOLD,
Such Luke-warm Lovers will the Bride-groom spue
Out of his mouth: his mouth hath spoke it true.

O ISRAEL, I pity much thy case:
This Sea of Mischiefs, which in every place
So over-flowes thee, and so domineres;
It drowns my soule in griefs, mine eyes in tears:
My heart's through-thrilled with your miseries
Already past; your Fathers Tragedies.
But (O!) I die; when in the sacred stem
Of royall IVDA, in Ierusalem,
I see fell Discord, from her loath som Cage,
To blowe her poyson with ambitious rage:
Sion to swim in bloud: and Achab's Daughter
Make David's House the Shambles of her Slaughter.

Cursed Atháliah (she was called so)
Knowing her Son, by Mimshi's Son, his so
(For Ioram's sake) to be dispatcht; disloyal,
On th' holy Mount vsurps the Sceptre Royall:
And, fearing, lest the Princes of the Bloud
Would one-day rank her where of right she should,
She cuts their throats, hangs, drowns, destroyes them all,
Not sparing any, either great or small;
No, not the infant in the Cradle, lying
Help-les (alas!) and lamentably crying
(As if bewailing of his wrongs vn-knowen);
No (O extream!) she spareth not her owne.

Like as a Lion, that hath tatterd heer
A goodly Heifer, there a lusty Steer,
There a strong Bull (too-weak for him by half)
There a fair Cow, and there a tender Calf;
Strouts in his rage, and wallows in his Prey,
And proudly doth his Victory suruay;
The grass all goary, and the Heard-groom vp
Shivering for fear vpon a Pine-Trees top:
So swelleth she: so growes her proud Despight;
Nor Aw, nor Law, nor Faith she reaks, nor right.

Her Cities are so many Groues of Thieves:
Her Courta Stews, where not a chaste-one lives:
Her greatest Lords (given all, to all excess)
In stead of Prophets, in their Palaces
Haue Lectures read of Lust, and Surfaiting,
Of Murder, Magik, and Impoysoning.

While thus she builds her tottering Throne vpon
Her childrens bones, Iehosheba saves one
One Royall Imp, yong Ioash, from the pile
(As, when a Fier hath fiercely rag'd awhile
In som fair House, the avaricious Dame
Saues som choise Casquet from the furious flame)
Hides him, prouides him: and, when as the Sun
Six times about his larger Ring hath run,
Iehoiada (her husband) brings him forth
To the chief Captains and the Men of worth;
Saying: Behold, O Chiefs of Iuda, see
See heer your Prince, great Dauids Progeny,
Your rightfull King: if me you credit light,
Beleeue this Face, his Fathers Picture right;
Beleeue these Priests, which saw him from the first,
Brought to my House, there bred, and fed, and nurç't.
In so iust Quarrel, holy Men-at-arms,
Imploy (I pray) your anger and your Arms:
Plant, in the Royall Plot, this Royall bud:
Venge Obed's bloud on Strangers guilty bloud:
Shake-off, with showts, with Fier, and Sword together,
This Womans Yoak, this Furie's Bondage, rather.

Then showt the People, with a common cry,
Long liue King Ioash; long, and happily:
God saue the King: God saue the noble seed
Of our true Kings; and ay may They succeed.

This news now bruited in the wanton Court,
Quickly the Queen coms in a braving sort,
Towards the Troop; and spying there anon
The sweet yong Prince, set on a royall Throne,
With Peers attending him on either hand,
And strongly guarded by a gallant Band;
Ah! Treason, Treason, then she cries aloud:
False I'oyada, disloyall Priest, and proud,
Thou shalt abie it: O thou House profane!
I'll lay thee levell with the ground again:
And thou, yong Princox, Puppet as thou art,
Shalt play no longer thy proud Kingling's Part
Vpon so rich a stage: but, quickly stript,
With wyery Rods thou shalt to death be whipt;
And so, go see thy Brethren, which in Hell
Will welcom thee, that bad'st not them farwell.

But, so dainly the Guard layes hold on her
And drags her forth, as 'twerea furious Cur,
Out of the sacred Temple; and with scorn,
Her wretched corps is mangled, tugg'd, and torn.

Th' High-Priest, inspired with a holy zeal,
In a new League authentikly doth seal
Th' obedient People to their bountious Prince;
And both, to God; by ioint Obedience.

Now, as a Bear-whelp, taken from the Dam,
Is in a while made gentle, meek, and tame
By witty vsage; but, if once it hap
He get som Grove, or thorny Mountains top,
Then playes he Rex; tears, kills, and all consumes,
And soon again his savage kinde assumes:
So Ioash, while good Ioyada survives,
For Piety, with holy Dauid strives;
But he once dead, walking his Father's wayes,
(Ingrately-false) his Tutor's son he slayes.
Him therfore shortly his owne Servants slay:
His Son, soon after, doth Them like re-pay:
His People, him again: then, Amaziah
Uzziah follows, Ioatham Vzziah.

As one same ground indifferently doth breed
Both food-fit Wheat and dizzie Darnell seed;
Baen-baening Mug-wort, and cold Hemlock too;
The fragrant Rose and the strong-senting Rue:
So, from the Noblest Howses oft ther springs
Som monstrous Princes, and som vertuous Kings;
And all.fore-seeing God, in the same Ligne
Doth oft the god-les with the godly twine.
The more to grace his Saints, and to disgrace
Tyrants the more, by their owne proper Race.

Ahaz, betwixt his Son and Ioathan
(He bad, they good) seems a swart Mauritan
Betwixt two Adons: Ezekiah, plaç't
Between his Father and his Son, is graç't
(He good, they bad) as twixt two Thorns, a Rose;
Wher-by, his Vertue the more vertuous showes.
For, in this Prince, great DAVID, the divine,
Devout, iust, valiant, seems again to shine.
And, as we see from out the severall Seat
Of th' ASIAN Princes, self-surnamed Great
(As the great Cham. great Turk. great Russian,
And if less Great, more glorious Persian)
Araxis, Chesel, Uolga, and many moe
Renowned Rivers, Brooks, and Floods, do flowe,
Falling at once into the Caspian Lake,
Withall their streams his streams so proud to make:
So, all the Vertues of the most and best
Of Patriarchs, meet in this Princes brest:
Pure in Religion, Wise in Counsailing,
Stout in Exployting, Iust in Governing;
Vn-puft in Sun-shine, vn-appall'd in Storms
(Not, as not feeling, but not fearing Harms)
And therefore brauely he repels the rage
Of proudest Tyrants (living in his Age)
And (ayvn-daunted) in his God's behalf
Hazards at once his Scepter and himself.

For, though (for Neighbours) round about him raign
Idolaters (that would him gladly gain):
Though Godlings, heer of wood, and there of stone,
A Brazen heer, and there a Golden one,
With Lamps and Tapers, even as bright as Day,
On every side would draw his minde astray:
Though Assur's Prince had with his Legions fell
Forrag'd Samaria, and in Israel
Quencht the small Faith that was; and vtterly
Dragg'd the Ten Tribes into Captivity,
So far, that even the tallest Cedar-Tree
In Libanon they never since could see:
Yet, EZECHIAH serues not Time; nor Fears
The Tyrants fury: neither roars with Bears,
Nor howls with Wolues, nor ever turns away:
But, godly-wise, well-knowing, that Delay
Giues leave to Ill; and Danger still doth wait
On lingering, in Matters of such waight;
He first of all sets-vp th' Almightie's Throne,
And vnder that, then he erects his owne.
Th' establishing of Gods pure Law again,
Is as the Preface of his happy Raign:
The Temple purg'd, th' High-places down he pashes,
Fells th' hallowed Groves, burns th' Idol-Gods to ashes.
Which his owne Father serv'd; and, Zeal-full, brake
The Brazen Serpent, Moses yerst did make.

For, though it were a very Type of CHRIST,
Though first it were by th' Holy-Ghost devis'd,
And not by Man (whose bold-blinde Fancie's pride
Deforms God's Service, strayes on either side,
Flatters itself in his Inventions vain,
Presumes to school the Sacred Spirit again,
Controules the Word, and (in a word) is hot
In his owne fashion to serue God, or not);
Though the Prescript of Ancient vse defend it,
Though Multitude, though Miracles commend it
(True Miracles, approved in conclusion,
Without all guile of Mens or Fiends illusion)
The King yet spares not to destroy the same,
When to occasion of Offence it came;
But, forth' Abuse of a fond Peoples will,
Takes that away which was not selfly ill:
Much less permits he (thorough all his Land)
One rag, one relique, or one signe to stand
Of Idolism, or idle superstition
Blindely brought-in, without the Words Commission.

This zealous Hate of all Abhomination,
This royall Work of thorough Reformation,
This worthy Action, wants not Recompence:
God, who his grace by measure doth dispence,
Who honors them that truly honour him,
To EZHCHIAH not so much doth seem
His sure Defence, as his Confederate:
His Quarrel's His, He hates whom him do hate,
His Fame He bears about (both far and high)
On the wide wings of Immortalitie:
To Gath He guideth his victorious Troup,
He makes proud Gaza to his Standards stoup,
Strong Ascalon he razeth to the ground:
And punishing a People wholly drownd
In Idolism, and all rebellious Sins,
Adds to his Land the Land of Philistins.
Yea, further more, 'tis He that him with-draws
From out the bloudy and ambitious paws
Of a fell Tyrant, whose proud bounds extend
Past bounds for breadth, and for their length past end;
Whose swarms of Arms, insulting every-where,
Made All to quake (even at his name) for fear.

Already were the Coelo-Syrian Towrs
All sackt, and seiz'd by the Assyrian Powrs:
And, of all Cities where th' Isaacians raign'd,
Only the great Ierusalem remain'd;
When Rabsakeh, with railing insolence,
Thus braues the Hebrues and vp braids their Prince)
(Weening, them all with vaunt-full Threats to snib);
Thus saith th' almighty, great Zenacherib,
O Salem's Kingling, wherfore art thou shut
In these weak Walls? Is thine affiance put
In th' Ayd of Egypt? O deceitfull prop!
O feble stay! O hollow-grounded hope!
Egypt's a staff of Reed, which broken soon,
Runs through the hand of him that leans ther-on.
Perhaps thou trustest in the Lord, thy God:
What! whom so bold thou hast abus'd so broad,
Whom to his face thou dayly hast defi'd,
Depriv'd of Altars, robd on every side
Of his High Places, hallowed Groves, and all
(Where yerst thy Fathers wont on him to call).
Whom (to conclude) .thou hast exiled quite
From every place, and with profane despight
(As if condemned to perpetuall dark)
Keepst him close-Prisoner in a certain Ark:
Will He (can He) take Sion's part and Thine;
And with his Foes will He vniustly ioyn?
No (wretched) knowe, I haue His Warrant too
(Express Commission) what I haue to doo:
I am the Scourge of God, 'tis vain to stand
Against the powr of my victorious hand:
I execute the counsails of the Lord:
I prosecute his Vengeance on th' abhorr'd
Profaners of his Temples: and, if He
Have any Powr, 'tis all conferr'd to me.
Yield therfore, Ezechia, yield; and waigh
Who I am; who Thou art: and by delay
Blowe not the Fier which shall consume thee quite,
And vtterly confound the Israelite.

Alas! poor People, I lament your hap:
This lewd Impostor doth but puff you vp
With addle hope, and idle Confidence
(In a delusion) of your God's Defence.
Which of the Gods, against my Powr could stand,
Or save their Citties from my mightier hand?
Where's Hamath's God? Where's Arpad's God becom.
Where Sepharvaim's God? and where (in summ)
Where are the Gods of Heva, and Ivah too?
Haue I not Conquer'd all? So will I doo
You and your God; and I will lead you all
Into Assyria, in perpetuall Thrall:
I'll haue your Manna, and your Aron's Rod,
I'll haue the Ark of your Almighty God,
All richly furnisht, and new furbisht o'r,
To hang among a hundred Tropheis more:
And your great God shall in the Roule be read
Among the Gods that I haue Conquered:
I'll haue it so, it must, it shall be thus,
And worse then so, except you yeeld to vs.

Scarce had he don, when Ezechias, gor'd
With blasphemies so spewd against the Lord,
Hies to the Temple, tears his purple weed,
And fals to Prayer, as sure hold at need.

O King of All, but Ours, especially;
Ah! sleep'st thou Lord? What boots it that thine ey
Perceth to Hell, and even from Heav'n beholds
The dumbest Thoughts in our hearts in-most folds;
If thou perceiv'st not this proud Chalenger,
Nor hear the Barking of this foul-mouth'd Cur?
Not against vs so much his Threats are meant,
As against Thee: his Blasphemies are bent
Against Thy Greatnes; whom he (proudly-rude)
Yoaks with the Godlings which he hath sub dew'd.
Tis true indeed, hee is a mighty Prince,
Whose numbrous Arms, with furious insolence,
Haue over-born as many as with-stood,
Made many a Province even to swim in blood,
Burnt many a Temple; and (insatiate still)
Of neighbour Gods haue wholly had their will.
But, O! What Gods are those? Gods void of Beeing
(Saue, by their hands that serue them) Gods vn-seeing,
New, vp-start Gods, of yerster-dayes devise;
To Men indebted, for their Deities:
Gods made with hands, Gods without life, or breath;
Gods, which the Rust, Fier, Hammer conquereth.

But, thou art Lord, th' invincible alone,
Th' All-seeing GOD, the Everlasting ONE:
And, who so dares him gainst thy Powr oppose,
Seems as a Puff which roaring Boreas blowes,
Weening to tear the Alps off at the Foot,
Or Clowds-prop Athos from his massie Root:
Who but mis-speaks of thee, he spets at Heav'n,
And his owne spettle in his face is driven.

Lord, shew thee such: take on thee the Defence
Of thine owne glory, and our innocence:
Cleer thine owne name, of blame: let him not thus
Tryumph of Thee, in tryumphing of vs:
But, let ther (Lord) vnto thy Church appear
Iust Cause of Ioy, and to thy Foes of fear.

God hears his Cry, and (from th' Empyreal Round)
He wrathfull sends a winged Champion down;
Who, richly arm'd in more than humane Arms,
Mowes in one night of Heathen men at Arms
Thrice-three-score thousand, and five thousand more,
Feld round about; beside, behinde, before.

Heer, his two eyes, which Sun-like brightly turn,
Two armed Squadrons in a moment burn:
Not much vnlike vnto a fier in stubble,
Which, sodain spreading, still the flame doth double,
And with quick succour of som Southren blasts
Crick-crackling quickly all the Country wastes.

Heer the stiff Storm, that from his mouth he blowes,
Thousands of Souldiers each on other throwes:
Even as a Winde, a Rock, a sodain Flood
Bears down the Trees in a side-hanging Wood;
Th' Yew overturns the Pine, the Pine the Elm,
The Elm the Oak, th' Oak doth the Ash ore-whelm;
And from the top, down to the Vale belowe,
The Mount's dis-mantled, and even shamed so.

Heer, with a Sword (such as that sacred blade
For the bright Guard of Eden's entry made)
He hacks, he hews; and somtimes with one blowe
A Regiment hee all at once doth mowe:
And, as a Cannon's thundrie roaring Ball,
Battering one Turret, shakes the next withall,
And oft in Armies (as by proof they finde)
Kils oldest Souldiers with his very winde:
The whiffing Flashes of this Sword so quick,
Strikes dead a many, which it did not strike.

Heer, with his hands he strangles all at-once
Legions of Foes. O Arm that Kings dis-throans!
O Army-shaving Sword! Rock-razing Hands!
World-tossing Tempest! All-consuming Brands!
O, let som other (with more sacred fier,
Than I, inflam'd) into my Muse inspire
The wondrous manner of this Overthrowe,
The which (alas!) God knowes, I little knowe:
I but admire it, in confused sort;
Conceiue I cannot; and, much less, report.

Com-on Zenacherib: where's now thine Hoast?
Where are thy Champions? Thou didst lately boast,
Th' hadst in thy Camp as many Soldiers,
As Sea hath Fishes, or the Heav'ns haue Stars:
Now, th' art alone: and yet, not all alone;
Fear, and Despair, and Fury wait vpon
Thy shame-full Flight: but, bloody Butcher, stay.
Stay, noysom Plague, fly not so fast away,
Fear not Heav'ns Fauchin; that foul brest of thine
Shall not be honor'd with such wounds divine:
Nor shalt thou yet, in timely bed decease;
No: Tyrants vse not to Depart in Peace:
As bloud they thirsted, they are drown'd in blood;
Their cruell Life a cruell Death makes good.

For (O iust Iudgement!) lo, thy Sons (yer-long)
At Nisroch's Shrine revenge the Hebrews wrong:
Yea, thine owne Sons (foul eggs of fouler Bird)
Kill their owne Father, sheath their either sword
In thine owne throat; and, heirs of all thy vices,
Mix thine owne bloud among thy Sacrifices.

This Miracle is shortly seconded
By one as famous and as strange, indeed.
It pleas'd the Lord with heavy hand to smight
King Ezechiah; who in dolefull plight
Vpon his bed lies vexed grieuously,
Sick of an Vlcer past all remedy.
Art fails the Leach, and issue faileth Art,
Each of the Courtiers sadly wayles a-part
His losse and Lord: Death, in a mourn-ful sort,
Through every Chamber daunteth all the Court:
And, in the City, seems in every Hall
T' haue light a Taper for his Funerall.

Then Amos Son, his bed approaching, pours
From plentious lips these sweet and golden showrs;
But that I knowe, you knowe the Lawes Divine,
But that your Faith so every-where doth shine,
But that your Courage so confirm'd I see;
I should, my Liege, I should not speak so free:
I would not tell you, that in continent
You must prepare to make your Testament:
That your Disease shall haue the vpper hand:
And Death already at your Door doth stand.

What? fears my Lord? Knowe you not heer beneath
We alwayes say I towards the Port of Death;
Where, who first anch'reth, first is glorified?
That 'tis Decreed, confirm'd, and ratified,
That (of necessity) the fatall Cup.
Once, all of vs must (in our turn) drink vp?
That Death's no pain, but of all pains the end,
The Gate of Heav'n, and Ladder to ascend?
That Death's the death of all our storms and strife,
And sweet beginning of immortall Life?
For, by one death a thousands death's we slay:
Thear-by, we rise from Body-Toomb of Clay.
Thear-by, our Soules feast with celestiall food,
Thear-by, we com to th' heav'nly Brother-hood,
Thear-by, w'are chang'd to Angels of the Light,
And, face to face, behold Gods beuties bright.

The Prophet ceast: and soon th' Isaacian Prince,
Deep apprehending Death's drad form and sense,
Vnto the Wall-ward turns his weeping eyes;
And, sorrow-torn, thus (to himself) he cries:

Lord, I appeal, Lord (as thine humble childe)
From thy iust Iustice to thy Mercy milde:
Why will thy strength destroy a silly-one,
Weakned and wasted even to skin and bone;
One that adores thee with sincere affection,
The wrack of Idols, and the Saints protection?
O! shall the Good thy servant had begun
For Sion, rest now by his death vndon?
O! shall a Pagan After-king restore
The Groues and Idols I haue raz'd before?
Shall I dye Childe-les? Shall thine Heritage
In vain exspect that glorious golden Age
Vnder thy CHRIST? O! mercy, mercy, Lord:
O Father milde, to thy dear Childe accord
Som space of life: O! let not, Lord, the voice
Of Infidels at my poor death reioyce.

Then said the Seer; Be of good cheer, my Liege:
Thy sighes and tears and prayers so be siege
The throne of Pitty, that, as pierçt with-all,
Thy smyling Health God yieldeth to re-call,
Wills, to his Temple (three dayes hence) thou mount,
Retracts his Sentence, and corrects his count:
Makes Death go back, for fifteen yeers: as lo,
This Dial's shadow shal heer back-ward go.

His Word's confirm'd with wonderfull Effect:
For, lo, the Dial, which doth houres direct
(Life's-guider, Daye's-divider, Sun's-Consorter,
Shadow's dull shifter, and Time's dumb Reporter)
Puts-vp-again his passed Houres (perforce)
And, back-ward goes against his wonted course.
'Tis Noon at Mid-night; and a triple Morn
Seems that long Day to brandish and adorn:
Sol goes, and coms; and, yer that in the Deep
Of Atlas shade he lay him down to sleep,
His bright, Light-winged, Gold-shod wheels do cut
Three times together in the self-same rut.

Lord! what are we! or, what is our deserving!
That, to confirm our Faith (so prone to swarving)
Thou daign'st to shake Heav'ns solid Orbs so bright;
Th' Order of Nature to dis-order quight;
To make the Sun's Teem with a swift-slowe pase,
Back, back to trot; and not their wonted Race?
That, to dispell the Night so blindely-black,
Which siels our Soules, thou mak'st the shade go back
On Ahaz Dial? And, as Self-vn-stable,
Seem'st to revoke thine Acts irrevocable,
Raze thine owne Dooms (tost in vn-steddy storm)
And, to reform vs, thine owne speech reform;
To giue thy Self the Ly: and (in a Word)
As Self-blam'd, softly to put-vp thy Sword?

Thrice-glorious God! thrice-great! thrice-gracious!
Heer-in (O Lord) thou seem'st to deal with vs,
As a wise Father, who with tender hand
Severely shaking the correcting Wand,
With voice and gesture seems his Son to threat:
Whom yet indeed he doth not mean to beat;
But, by this curb of fained Rigor, aims
To aw his Son; and so him oft reclaims.

This Prince no sooner home to Heav'n returns,
But Israel back to his vomit turns;
Him re-bemires: and, like a head-strong Colt,
Runs headlong down into a strange Revolt.
And, though •osias, Heav'n-deer Prince (vho yong
Coms wisely-olde, to liue the older long)
Had re-aduanç't the sacred Lawes divine,
Propt Siou's Wall (all ready to decline)
With his owne back; and, in his happy Raign,
The Truth re-flowr'd, as in her Prime again:
Yet Iaeob's Heirs striue to resemble still
A stiff-throw'n Bowl, which running down a Hill,
Meets in the way som stub, for rub, that stops
The speed a space; but instantly it hops,
It ouer-iumps; and stayes not, though it stumble,
Till to the bottom vp-side-down it tumble.

With puissant Hoast proud Nebuchadnezzar
Now threatned Iuda with the worst of War:
His Camp coms marching to Ierusalem,
And her olde Walls in a new Wall doth hem.
The busie Builders of this newer Fold,
In one hand, Swords, in th' other Trowels hold,
Nor felder strike with blades than hammers there;
With firmer foot the Sieged's shock to bear,
Who seem a swarm of Hornets buzzing out
Among thir Foes, and humming round about
To spet their spight against their Enemies,
With poysonie Darts, in noses, brows and eyes.

Cold Capricorn hath pav'd all Iuda twice
With brittle plates of crystal-crusted Ice,
Twice glased Iordan; and the Sappy-blood
Of Trees hath twice re-perriwigd the Wood,
Since the first Siege: What? sayd the yonger sort,
Shall we growe olde, about a feeble Fort?
Shall we (not Martial, but more Maçon-skild)
Shall we not batter Towrs, but rather build?
And while the Hebrue in his sumptuous Chamber
Disports himself, perfum'd with Nard and Amber,
Shall We, swelting for Heat, shivering for Cold,
Heer, far from home, lie in a stinking Hold?
Shall time destroy vs? shall our proper sloath
Annoy vs more than th' Hebrues valour doth?
No, no, my Lord: let not our Fervour fault,
Through length of Siege; but let vs to th' Assault.
Let's win't and wear it: tut (Sir) nothing is
Impossible to Chaldean courages.

Contented, sayd the King: braue Bloods away,
Goeseck Renown, 'mid wounds and death, to-day.

Now, in their breasts, braue Honor's Thirst began:
Me thinks, I see stout Nabuzaradan
Already trooping the most resolute
Of every Band, this plot to prosecute.
Each hath his Ladder; and, the Town to take,
Bears to the Wall his Way vpon his back:
But, the braue Prince cleaues quicker then the rest
His slender Firr-poles, as more prowes-full prest.

Alike they mount, affronting Death together;
But, not alike in face, nor fortune neither:
This Ladder, slippery plaç't, doth slide from vnder:
That, over-sloap, snaps in the midst asunder,
And souldiers falling, one another kill
(As with his weight, a hollow Rocky-Hill,
Torn with som Torrent, or Tempestuous windes,
Shivers it self on stones it vnder-grindes):
Som, rashly climb'd (not wont to climb so high)
With giddy brains, swim headlong down the Sky:
Som, over-whelmd vnder a Mill-stone-storm,
Lose, with their life, their living bodies form.

Yet mounts the Captain, and his spacious Targe
Bears-off a Mountain and a Forest large
Of Stoans and Darts, that fly about his ears;
His teeth do gnash, he threats, he sweats, and swears:
As steady thear as on the ground he goes;
And thear, though weary, he affronts his Foes,
Alone, and halfly-hanging in the ayr,
Against whole Squadrons standing firmly fair:
Vpright he rears him and his Helmet braue
(Whear, not a Plume, but a huge Tree doth wave)
Reflecting bright, above the Paripet,
Affrights th' whole Citty with the shade of it.
Then as half Victor, and about to venter
Over the Wall, and ready even to enter;
With his bright Gantlet's scaly fingers bent
Grasping the coping of the battlement,
His hold doth fail, the stones, vn-fast•ed, fall
Down in the ditch, and (headlong) he with-all:
Yet, he escapes, and getts again to shoar;
Thanks to his strength: but, to his courage more.

Now, heer (me thinks) I hear proud Nergal raue,
In War (quoth he) Master or Match to haue,
By Mars I skorn. yea, Mars himself in Arms;
And all the Gods, with all their braving Storms.
O wrathfull Heav'ns, roar, lighten, thunder, threat;
Gods, do your worst; with all your batteries beat:
If I begin, in spight of all your powrs,
I'll skale your Walls, I'll take your Crystall Towrs.
Thus spewd the Curr; and (as he spake) withal
Climbs-vp the steepest of a dreadfull Wall,
With his bare-feet on roughest places sprawling,
With hook-crookt hands vpon the smoothest crawling.

As a fell Serpent, which som Shepheard-lad
On a steep Rock incounters gladly-•ad,
Turning and winding nimbly to and fro,
With wriggling pase doth still approach his Foe,
And with a Hiss, a Frisk, and flashing ey,
Makes soudainly his faint Assailer fly:
Even so the Duke, with his fierce countenance,
His thundring-voice, his helms bright radiance,
Drives Pashur from the Walls and Iucal too
(A iolly Prater but a Iade to doo;
Brauer in Counsail then in Combat, far)
With Sephatiah, tinder of this War;
And Malchy, he that doth in Prison keep
Vnder the ground (a hundred cubits deep)
Good •eremie, and instrument, alone
Inspir'd with breath of th' ever-living ONE.

Let's fly, cries P•shur: fly this Infidell,
Rather this Fiend, the which no waight can fell.
What force can front, or who in count •r can
An armed Faulcon, or a flying Man?

While Nergal speeds his Victory too-fast,
His hooks dis-pointed disappoint his haste;
Prevent him, not of praise, but of the Prize
Which (out of doubt) he did his owne surmize.
He swears and tears: (what should? what could he more)?
He cannot vp, nor will he down, therefore.
Vnfortunate! and vainly-valiant!
He's fain to stand like the Funambulant
Who seems to tread the air, and fall he must,
Save his Self's waight him counter-poyseth iust;
And saue the Lead, that in each hand he bears,
Doth make him light: the gaping Vulgar fears,
Amaz'd to see him; weening nothing stranger
Than Art to master Nature, lucre danger.
At last, though loath (full of despight and rage)
He slideth down into a horrid hedge,
Cursing and banning all the Gods; more mad
For the disgrace, than for the hurt he had.

Els-where the while (as imitating right
The Kinde-blinde Beast, in russet Velvet dight)
Covertly marching in the Dark by day,
Samgarnebo seeks vnder ground his way.
But Ebedmelech, warn'd of his Designes,
With-in the Town against him counter-mines
Courageously, and still proceedeth on,
Till (resolute) he bring both Works to one;
Till one strict Berrie, till one winding Cave
Becom the Fight-Field of two Armies brave.

As the self-swelling Badgerd. at the bay
With boldest Hounds (inured to that Fray)
First at the entry of his Burrow fights,
Then in his Earth; and either other bites:
The eager Dogs are cheer'd with claps and cryes,
The angry Beast to his best chamber flies,
And (angled there) sits grimly inter-gerning;
And all the Earth rings with the Terryers yearning:
So fare these Miners; whom I pitty must,
That their bright Valour should so darkly ioust.

While hotly thus they skirmish in the Vault,
Quick Ebedmelech closely thither brought
A Dry-Fat sheath'd in latton plates with-out,
With-in with Feathers fill'd, and round about
Bor'd full of holes (with hollow pipes of brass)
Save at one end, where nothing out should pass;
Which (having first his Iewish Troops retir'd)
Iust in the mouth of th' enter-Mine he fir'd:
The smoak wherof with odious stink doth make
The Pagans soon their hollow Fort forsake:
As from the Berries in the Winter's night
The Keeper draws his Ferret (flesht to bite).

Now Rabshakeh (as busie) other-where
A rowling Towr against the Town doth rear,
And on the top (or highest stage) of it
A flying Bridge, to reach the Courtin •it,
With pullies, poles; and planked Battlements
On every story, for his Men's defence.
On th' other side, the Towns-men ar• not slowe
With counter-plots to counter-push their Foe:
Now, at the woodden side, then at the front;
Then at the Engins of the Persian Mount,
With Brakes and Slings, and Phalariks they play,
To fier their Fortress and their Men to slay:
But yet, a Cord-Mat (stifly stretcht about)
Defends the Towr, and keeps their Tempests out.

While thus they deal; Sephtiah, desperat,
Him secretly out of the Citty gat,
And with a Pole of rozen-weeping Fir,
So furiously he doth himself bestir,
That with the same the walking Fort he fiers:
The cruel flame so to the top aspires,
That (maugre Blood, shed from aboue in slaughter,
And, from belowe, continuall spouting Water)
It parts the Fray: stage after stage it catches,
And th' half-broyld Souldiers head long down it fetches.

The King (still constant against all extreams)
To press them neerer yet; with mightie beams
Rears a new Plat-form, neerer to the Wall,
And covers it, with three-fold shelter, all;
The Timber (first) with Mud, the Mud with Hides,
The Hides with Woll-sacks (which all Shot derides).
As th' Aier exhaled by the fiery breath
Of th' Heav'nly Lion, on an open Heath,
Or on the tresses of a tufted Plain,
Pours-down at-once both Fier and Hail and Rain:
So all at-once th' Isaacian Souldiers threw
Floods, Flames, and Mountains on these Engines new;
But th' hungry Flames the Muddy-damp repels,
The Mounts, the Wooll; the drowning Floods, the Fel•.

Thear-vnder (safe) the Ram with iron horn,
The brazen-headed clov'n-foot Capricorn,
The boistrous Trepane, and steel Pick-ax play
Their parts apace, not idle night nor day.
Heer, thorough-riv'n from top to toe, the Wall
On reeling props hangs, ready ev'n to fall:
There, a vast-Engine thundreth vp-side-down
The feeble Courtin of the sacred Town.

If you haue been, where you haue seen som-whiles,
How with the Ram they driue-in mighty Piles
In Dover Peer, to bridle with a Bay
The Sand-cast Current of the raging Sea;
Swift-ebbing streams bear to the Sea the sownd,
Eccho assisteth, and with shrill rebound
Fils all the Town, and (as at Heav'nly Thunder)
The Coast about trembles for fear and wonder:
Then haue you heard and seen the Engins beating
On Sion's Walls, and her foundations threating.

In fine, the Chaldeis take Ierusalem,
And reave for ever Iuries Diadem.
The smoaky burning of her Turrets steep
Seems even to make the Sunn's brightey to weep:
And wretched Salem, buried (as it were)
Vnder a heap of her owne Children dear,
For lack of Friends to keep her Obsequies,
Constraineth sighs (even) from her Enemies.
Her massie Ruins and her Cinders showe
Her Wealth and Greatnes, yer her overthrowe.
A sodain horror seizeth every eye
That views the same: and every Passer-by
(Yea, were he Gete, or Turk, or Troglodite)
Must needs, for pitty of so sad a Sight,
Bestowe som tears, som swelling sighs, or grones
Vpon these batter'd sculs, these scatter'd stones.
In Palaces, where lately (gilded rich)
Sweet Lutes were heard, now luck-les Oules doo screech:
The sacred TEMPLE, held (of late) alone
Wonder of Wonders, now a heap of stone:
The House of God (the Holyest-Holy-Place)
Is now the House of Vermin vile and base:
The Vessels, destin'd vnto sacred vse,
Are now profan'd in Riot and Abuse:
None scapeth wounds, if any scape with life:
The Father's reft of Son, the Man of Wife:
Iacob's exil'd, Iuda's no more in Iury,
But (wretched) sighes vnder the Chaldean fury.

Their King in chains, with shame and sorrow thrill'd,
Before his face sees all the fairest pill'd;
Yea, his owne Daughters, and his. Wives (alas!)
(Rich Vines and Oliues of his lawfull Race)
Whose loue and beauty did his age delight,
Shar'd to the Souldiers, ravisht in his sight.

O, Father, Father, thus the Daughters cry
(About his neck still hanging tenderly)
Whither (alas!) O, whither hale they vs?
O, must we serue their base and beastly Lusts?
Shall they dissolue our Virgin-zones? Shall they
(Ignoble Grooms) gather our Mayden-May,
Our spot-les Flowr, so carefully preserv'd
For som great Prince, that mought haue vs deserv'd?
O Hony-dropping Hills we yerst frequented,
O Milk-full Vales, with hundred Brooks indented.
Delicious Gardens of deer Israel;
Hills, Gardens, Vales, we bid you all fare-well:
We (will-we-nill-we) hurried hence, as slaues,
Must now, for Cedron, sip of Tygris waues;
And (weaned from our natiue Earth and Air)
For Hackney-Iades be sold in every Fayr.
And (O hearts-horror!) see the shame-les Foe,
Forcing our Honors, triumph in our woe.

All-sundring Sword! and (O!) all-cindring Fire!
Which (mercy-les) do SION's Wrack conspire,
Why spare you vs, more cruell (cri'd the Wives)
In leaving ours, then reaving other's lives?
Your Pitie's pity-les, your Pardon Torture:
For, quick dispatch had made our Sorrows shorter;
But your seem-Favour, that prolongs our breaths,
Makes vs, aliue, to die a thousand Deaths.
For, O deer Husband, deerest Lord, can wee,
Can we survive, absented quight from Thee,
And slaues to those whose Talk is nothing els
But thy Disgrace, thy Gyves, and Israels?
Can we (alas!) exchange thy Royall bed
(With cunning-cost rare richly furnished)
For th' vgly Cabbin and the louzie Couch
Of som base Buffon, or som beastly Slouch?
Can we, alas! can wretched we (I say)
We, whose Commands whole Kingdoms did obay,
We, at whose beck even Princes knees did bend,
We, on whose Train ther dayly did attend
Hundreds of Eunuchs, and of Maids of Honour
(Kneeling about vs in the humblest manner)
To dress vs neat, and duly every Morn
In Silk and Gold our Bodies to adorn;
Dress others now? work, on disgrace-full frame
(Weeping the while) our SION's wo-full flame?
Dragging like Moyls? drudge in their Mills? and hold
Brooms in our hands, for Sceptre-Rods of gold?

Com, Parrots, com, y' haue prated, now enough
(The Pagans cry in their insulting ruff)
On Chaldè shoars you shal go sigh your fill,
You must with vs to Babel: there at will
You may bewail: there, this shal be your plight,
Our Mayds by day, our Bed-fellows by night.
And, as they spake, the shame-les lust-full crew
With furious force the tender Ladies drew
Even from between th' arms of the woe-full King,
Them haling rough, and rudely hurrying;
And little lackt the act of most despight,
Ev'n in their Father's and their Husbands sight,
Who, his hard Fortune doth in vain accuse,
In vain he raves, in vain he roars and rews:
Even as a Lion, prisoned in his grate,
Whose ready dinner is bereft of late,
Roars hideously; but his fell Fury-storm
May well breed horror, but it brings no harm.

The proud fell Pagans doo yet farther pass:
They kill, they tear, before the Father's face
(The more to gore: what Marble but would bleed?)
They massacre his miserable seed.

O! sayd the Prince, can you less pitious be
To these Self-yielders (prostrate at your knee)
Than sternly-valiant to the stubborn-stout
That 'gainst your rage courageously stood-out?
Alas! what haue they don? what could they doo
To vrge revenge and kindle wrath in you?
Poor silly Babes vnder the Nources wing,
Haue they conspir'd against the Chaldean King?
Haue these sweet Infants that yet cannot speak,
Broak faith with you? Haue these, so yong and weak,
Yet in their Cradle, in their Clouts, bewayling
Their Woes to-come (to all Man-kinde, vnfayling)
Dis-ray'd your Ranks? Haue these that yet doo craul
Vpon all fowre, and cannot stand, at all,
With-stood your Fury, and repulst your Powrs,
Frustred your Rams, fiered your flying Towrs?
And, bravely sallying in your face (almost)
Hew'n-out their passage thorough all your Hoast?

O! no, Chaldeans, only I did all:
I did complot the King of Babels fall:
I foyld your Troups: I filld your sacred Flood
With Chaldean bodies, dy'd it with your blood.
Turn therfore, turn your bloody Blades on-me;
O! let these harm-less Little-ones go free;
And stain not with the blood of Innocents
Th' immortall Tropheis of your high Attents.
So, ever may the Riphean Mountains quake
Vnder your feet: so ever may you make
South, East, and West your owne: on every Coast
So, ay victorious march your glorious Hoast:
So, to your Wiues be you thrice welcom home,
And so God bless your lawfull-loved womb
With Self-like Babes, your substance with increase,
Yourselues (at home) with hoary haires in Peace.

But, as a Rock, gainst which the Heav'ns do thunder,
Th' Air roars about, the Ocean rageth vnder,
Yields not a iot: no more this savage Crew;
But rather, muse to finde-out Tortures new.
Heer, in (his sight) these cruell Lestrigons
Between them take the eldest of his Sons,
With keenest swords his trembling flesh they heaw,
One gobbet heer, another thear they streaw.
And from the veins of dead-lyve limbs (alas!)
The spirit-full blood spins in his Father's face.
Thear, by the heels his second Son they take,
And dash his head against a Chimnies back:
The skull is pasht to peeces, like a Crock,
Or earthen Stean, against a stony Rock:
The scatterd batterd Brains, about besmeard,
Som hang (O horror.) in the Fathers beard.
Last, on himself their savage fury flyes,
And with sharp bodkins bore they out his eyes.
The Sun he loses, and an end-les night
Beclowds for euer his twin-balled sight:
He sees no more, but feels the woes he bears;
And now for crystall, weeps he crimsin tears.
For, so God would (and iustly too, no doubt)
That he which had in Iuda clean put-out
Th' immortall Lamp of all religious light,
Should have his eyes put-out, should lose his sight;
And that his body should be outward blinde,
As inwardly (in holy things) his minde.

O Butchers (sayd he) satiat your Thirst,
Swill, swill your fill of Blood, vntill you burst:
O! broach it not with bodkin, but with knife;
O! reaue me not my bodie's light, but life:
Give me the sight not of the Earth, but Skies:
Pull-out my heart: O! poach not out mine eyes.
Why did you not this barbarous deed dispatch,
Yer I had seen me an vn-sceptred Wretch,
My Citties sackt, my wealthy subiects pilld,
My Daughters ravisht, and my Sonns all killd?
Or else, why stayd you not till I had seen
Your (Beast-like) Master grazing on the Green:
The Medes conspiring to supplant your Throne:
And Babel's glory vtter ouerthrowne?
Then had my soule with Fellow-Falls bin eas'd,
And then your pain, my pain had part appeas'd.

O ragefull Tyrants! moody Monsters, see,
See heer my Case; and see yourselues in me.
Beware Contempt: tempt not the Heav'nly Powrs,
Who thunder-down the high-aspiring Towrs;
But mildely pardon, and permit secure
Poor Cottages that lie belowe obscure:
Who Pride abhor; who lift vs vp so high,
To let vs fall with greater infamy.
Th' Almighty sports him with our Crowns and vs;
Our glorie stands so fickle-founded thus
On slippery wheels, alreadie rowling down:
He gives vs not, but only shewes the Crown:
Our Wealth, our Pleasure, and our Honour too
(Wher at the Vulgar make so much a-doo)
Our Pomp, our State, our All that can be spoken,
Seems as a glass, bright-shining, but soon broken.

Thrice-happy He, whom with his sacred arm,
Th' Eternall props against all Haps of harm:
Who hangs vpon his prouidence alone,
And more preferrs GOD'S Kingdom than his owne.

So happy be great BRITTANNE Kings (I pray)
Our Soveraigne IAMES, and all his Seed, for ay;
Our hope-full HENRY, and a hundred mo
Good, faithfull STVARTS (in successiue rowe)
Religious, righteous, learned, valiant, wise,
Sincere to Vertue, and seuere to Vice;
That not alone These dayes of Ours may shine
In Zeal-full Knowledge of the TRVTH divine
And We (illightned with her sacred rayes)
May walk directly in the Saving wayes
Offaith-full Seruice to the ONE true Deitie,
And mutuall Practise of all Christian Pietie;
But, that our Nephews, and their Nephews (till
Time be no more) may be conducted still
By the same Cloud by day, and Fier by night
(Through this vast Desart of the World's despight)
Towards their Home, the heav'nly CANAAN,
Prepared for vs yer the World began:
That they with vs, and we (complete) with them,
May meet triumphant in IERVSALEM;
With-in whose Pearly Gates and Iasper Walls
(Whear, th' Holy LAME keeps his high Nuptialls,
Whear needs no shining of the Sun, or Moon;
For, God's owne face makes there perpetuall Noon:
Whear shall no more be Waylings, Woes, nor Cryes.
For, God shall wipe all tears from weeping eyes)
Shall enter nothing filthy or vnclean;
No Hog, no Dog, no Sodomit obscoene,
No Witch, no Wanton, no Idolater,
No Thief, no Drunkard, no Adulterer,
No Wicked-liuer, neither wilfull Lyer:
These are without, in Tophet's end-les Fier.

Yet, such as these (or som of these, at least)
We all haue been: in som-what all haue mist
(And, had we broken but one Precept sole,
The Law reputes vs guiltie of the whole):
But, we are washed, in the Sacred-Flood;
But, we are purged, with the Sprinkled-Blood;
But, by the Spirit, we now are sanctify'd;
And through the Faith in IHSVS, iustify'd.
Thearfore no more let vs our selues defile,
No more returne vnto our Vomit vile,
No more profane vs with Concupiscence,
Nor spot the garment of our Innocence:
But, constant in our Hope, feruent in Love
(As even al-ready conuersant Above)
Proceed we cheerely in our Pilgrimage
Towards our happy promis'd Haeritage,
Towards That Cittie of heart-bound-les Bliss
Which CHRIST hath purchast with his Blood, for His:
To Whom, with FATHER, and the SPIRIT, therfore
Bee Glory, Prayse, and Thanks, for-evermore.