The last trumpet: or, a six-fold Christian dialogue Viz, 1 Betweene death, the flesh, and the soule. 2 Between the Divell, the flesh, and the world. ... 6 Betweene the soule and the city of God. Translated from the elegant Latine prose of Richard Brathvvait Esquire, into English verse, by Iohn Vicars. Novissima tuba. English Brathwaite, Richard, 1588?-1673. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A16663 of text S106132 in the English Short Title Catalog (STC 3569). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 204 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 56 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 A16663 STC 3569 ESTC S106132 99841857 99841857 6472 2240853045

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A16663) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 6472) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1340:03) The last trumpet: or, a six-fold Christian dialogue Viz, 1 Betweene death, the flesh, and the soule. 2 Between the Divell, the flesh, and the world. ... 6 Betweene the soule and the city of God. Translated from the elegant Latine prose of Richard Brathvvait Esquire, into English verse, by Iohn Vicars. Novissima tuba. English Brathwaite, Richard, 1588?-1673. Vicars, John, 1579 or 80-1652. [8], 103, [1] p. Printed by Thomas Harper, for Robert Bostocke, and are to be sold at his shop in Pauls Church-yard, at the signe of the Kings Head, London : 1635. Translation of: Novissima tuba. Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery. eng Eschatology -- Early works to 1800. eebo The last trumpet: or, a six-fold Christian dialogue. Viz, 1 Betweene death, the flesh, and the soule. 2 Between the Divell, the flesh, and the world. Brathwait, Richard, 1635 112 29790 53 0 0 0 0 0 17.79 C The rate of 17.79 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the C category of texts with between 10 and 35 defects per 10,000 words. 2003-02 Assigned for keying and markup 2003-03 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2003-04 Sampled and proofread 2003-04 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2003-06 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

The last TRVMPET : OR , A Six-Fold Christian Dialogue . Viz. 1 Betweene Death , the Flesh , and the Soule . 2 Betweene the Divell , the Flesh , and the World . 3 Betweene Man and his Conscience . 4 Betweene Conscience , Sinne , and Man . 5 Betweene God and the Soule . 6 Between the Soule and the City of Cod. Translated from the elegant Latine Prose of RICHARD BR●THWA●T Esquire . into English Verse , BY IOHN VICARS .

Arise yee dead , and come to judgement . Hor. de Ar●e Poetica .

Decies repetita placebit .

LONDON , Printed by Thomas Harper , for Robe●●●●●●ocke , and are to be sold at his shop in Pauls Church-yard , at the signe of the Kings Head , 1635.

TO THE RIGHT Worshipfull , his ever most highly honoured good friend , Sir WALTER PIE , Attourney Generall of the Court of Wards , and to his truely vertuous and religious Consort , the Lady HESTER PIE , I. V. most Cordially wisheth the Kingdome of Grace here , and the Kingdome of glory hereafter . Right Worshipfull , MY thankful thoughts long wandring , seriously , Which way I might my gratefull heart apply , Fully and fitly to expresse & show The infinite perpetuall debt Iowe To both your Worship , and your Families , For many free and friendly courtesies To me and mine : In stept this little Booke , And my desire t' accomplish undertooke . Vpon which proffer , promptly I laid hold , And most respectively have ( thus ) made bold To dedicate both It and my poore All To both your Worships due memoriall : Both , as a Symboll of my sincere heart Obliged by indelible desert ; As also , that like Philips little Lad , This Trumpet may sound a Memento glad Vnto your Wor. Soules with comfort sweet , Here , to prepare with God in Christ to meet , To shake off all earths clogs and Remora's Which hurt or hinder us with dull delayes , From running ( here ) our race with patience , From winning the reward of recompence . In both which bound respects , I humbly pray That this my little Tract , Last Trumpet may Sound sweetly in your Worships ●ares & minde , And friendly favour and acceptance finde , To'rd him , who ever , ev'ry way is bound To you and yours to rest and to be found Your good Wor. in all obsequious observance to be commanded . IOHN VICARS .
To the Worshipfull , his very worthy and most ingenious and ingenuous learned and religious Author , RICHARD BRATHWAIT Esquire . I. V. wisheth all true holinesse and happinesse , here and hereafter . Most worthy Sir , WHen first by happy chance I cast my fight Vpon the sparkling lustre , beauty bright Of your rich jewell lockt-up & enclos'd In a neat Cabinet : I , strait suppos'd It was great pitty , such a pretty jemme Should be shut up from publike view of them Who could not with the Latine Key unlocke Your Casket , and partake of your rich stocke . I therefore have ( most worthy Sir ) made bold To ope the Locke , lay ope your jemme of gold , To every gracious eye and godly minde That in such Iewels can pure pleasure finde And , thus with my weake breath your Trump to sound In a knowne tone , whose eccho might rebound , And on the hearers hearts reverberate To minde their present and their future state . And ( hence ) I must ingenuously confesse , I primely should and would the same addresse Vnto your worthy-selfes sole acceptation Were I not bound by most strict obligation To those my honour'd friends forementioned By cords of many favours thereto led . But next to them , accept , I humbly pray This borrowed-light from your suns lustrous ray ; These bubling streames , weake straines that have their motion , From your full fount , as tribute to your ocean . In confidence of which great courtesie Thereof perswaded , by your piety , Praying your Worship may be aye possest Of all true holy , happy joyes ; I rest , Your good Worships in his best poore services to be commanded , Iohn Vicars .
Authoris opinio de Interprete suo .

EX eo quod legi , te de Hippocreni altiùs ebibisse collegi . Optandum est , quod Heliconiades nostri in hisce oleum operamque studiose impenderent , quo apud posteros faeliciora Minervae monumenta relinquant . Interim , quae primum conscripsi & edidi ( modò Superiorum authoritas ijs suffragetur ) ingenuè approbo , eo scilicet more , quo tu integre transtulisti .

Ingenij titulum meruit , mihi crede , perennem , Qui cupit ingenio sacra levare suo . Hoc tibi ●ICARIVS fecit ; Musisque peregit O●ficium vatis : dulce poema suis.

Imprimatur ,

SA . BAKER . Aprill 14. 1635.
The last Trumpet : OR , A Six-fold Christian DIALOGUE .
The first , betweene Death , the Flesh , and the Soule . The Argument of the first Dialogue . The Flesh presenting the Soules Mayd . By Death encountred , sore afrayd ; Shewes forth voluptuous-Gallants state , Whilst ( yet ) they be degenerate ; How prone to pride and vanity , How fear'd of Death , how loath to die ; Vntill the Lady-Mistresse , Soule , By Grace rowz'd up , does chide , controule Her servant , Flesh , her fit to make To welcome Death , and Life forsake . Death . HO , who 's within ? Ope the doore , instantly . Flesh. Who 's that which knockes so bold and boysterously ? De. T is He , that , till he enters , will not part . Fl. Stay , I le peepe out ; and see ( first ) who thou art , And , whether thou deserv'st , heere , to remaine ; If not , knocke long enough , and all in vaine . De. Well , now , what think'st thou ? wilt thou open now ? Fl. O fearefull monster ! ugly beetle-brow , Blinde of both-eyes , without or lippes or chin , Hence , with a mischiefe , I le not let thee in . Knocke on , yea knocke thy selfe to death , thou may'st , But , I le not ope the doore , whiles there thou stay'st . De. Open , for , I will enter : mark th' event . Fl. What ? And without my Mistresses consent ? De. I , without leave of Mistresse or nice Mayd : Yea , though by All within I be gaine-sayd . Fl Is 't possible ? Whence cam'st thou , hither , pray ? Who sent for thee ? Thou might'st have kept away : For , we have , heere , within , farre fayrer mates , Fine fellowes , merrier guests , within our gates : Sure , th' art some Courtier , by thy sirly face . De. Indeed , both Court and Cart , in Me have place , And , I , in them , doe challenge equall right . Fl. I prethee , say , who art thou ? what strange wight ? De. I , surely , am thy Sister and thy Brother . F. Hence , Beast ▪ th' art some Hermophrodite or other . De. Therein ( indeed ) thy words are probable ; For , of both sexes I am capable . Fl Capable ? true , too much too , I beleeve : But , if my thoughts doe me not much deceive , Thou neither lookest like male or female , But , art , more truely , some Ghost lanck and pale . De. I am a Ghost , yet , am thy Looking-Glasse , Where , thou mayst see thy state like with ring grasse . Fl. Who were thy Parents ? De. They that thee begot . Fl. That 's strange ; but , surely , thus much I doubt not , Thy Parents would have pluckt out both their eyes , Ere from their loynes an Imp , like thee , should rise . De. Yet , they me bred . For , biting-Death did spring From their bold biting the forbidden thing , Fl. Whence cam'st thou then ? D. From thine owne wilfull sin . Fl Alas , alas . Then we must needs be kin . De. True . We are both of one stock , land and line , Fl. Yet , small resemblance twixt thy state & mine . De. True , I confesse it , yet I tell thee plaine , Nor thou nor any that alive remaine , Can me , when I am present , passe , excell , With fitter frame of joynts though ere so wel , With more just mixture of the Elements , With fairer structure of corps lineaments , Or stronger state of body ; but I say , ● being present , am more choyce than they . Fl. Me thinks this is most strange , how can this be ? De. Because , even Natures-selfe hath chosen me ●or her Anatomy . Thou know'st right well , ●hat all that doe in Surgery excell ●nd Physicke , choose for their Anatomie Corps that surpasse in beauties excellencie . Fl. T is true ( indeed ) of such as hanged be ; Then , in that number I must reckon thee : And therefore tell me for what fact so foule Hast thou beene hanged , and so left thy soule ? De. Well , wanton wench , for all thy witty prate , I 'll be thy wooer and thy wedded-mate . Fl. Ha , ha , ha , ha . I never shall desire Such a yoke-fellow to me to acquire , As will me make quite weary of my life , And fill my marriage-bed with hate and strife : When for my Spouse I shall embrace a Spirit , And stinking smels of rottennesse inherit . No , with the proverb , rather I 'd like well To dye a Virgin , and leade Apes in hell . De. So , so , meane while , I must , I will embrace thee ▪ Fl. hands off , or to thy Graves & Ghosts I 'll chase thee ▪ De. Soft , sister , soft : untoucht , I 'll touch & take thee ▪ Thou art deceiv'd , if thou think'st to forsake me Or scape my hands . Delay not , instantly , If Death but say the word , thou ( sure ) shalt dye . I stand unmov'd , when thou art mov'd , molested , I rise unhurt , when thou by Death art rested . He which thee spoiles , spares not or sexe or age , Conditions rare , face faire or head most sage . Perhaps thou 'lt say ( thou say'st no more than truth ) That nothing is , than Death , more full of ruth , More tart and terrible , more curst , unkinde , As who , to looke on mens looks , is most blinde , Is deafe and dumb to heare or answer treats Is pittilesse , perniciously downe beates Without distinction or least difference ▪ All , lyable to 's lawlesse violence ; Not having least respect to good or bad , But , forcing all to one condition sad . Fl. Aye me poore wretch , must my flesh delicate , Which fragrant flowers adorne and decorate , Which sweet perfumes with odours rare perfume , Must these faire joynts to rottennesse consume ? And all their moysture and their milk-white hew , Be dry'd , drawne out , by such an Elfe as you ? De. Damsell , disdaine it not , these sinews bare , These rigid bones have grasped Ladies faire ; Equall to thee , for bodies beauty bright , For dignities and honours utmost height ; For smooth and soft conditions deare as thou , These , oft , I make to my embraces bow . Fl. Embrace them still , so thou lett'st me alone . What ? shall these dainty fingers , ever knowne To touch and strike the warbling Lute-strings sweet Enamell'd with pure azure-veines regreet , Shall these , I say , once touch thy clay-cold wrists , Or shall this haire of mine in curious twists , And rare layd wreaths , bound up , with garlands deckt And odoriferous perfumes , to affect The nisest nosthrils , like Sols sun-beames bright , Shall these under thine Eagle-tallons light ? Shall this high forehead , and these temples faire , Adorn'd with Aprils prime-sprung flowers most rare , Fall underneath thy raw-bon'd fingers harmes , Shall these my snow-white alablaster armes Fitted for onely amorous kinde embraces , Feele thy cold-icey grasping pawes disgraces ? Shall these my tinckling , teachable fine feet , Accustomed to Measures , Dances sweet , Dance into thy darke cell , the loathsome grave ? Or , finally , shall this my Body brave , So neat , compleat , so worthy admiration , Yeelding to amorous eyes such delectation , Be shut up in a vile and filthy urne , And into noysome putrefaction turne ? De. Spare farther speech , I none of these respect , I neither doe thy fingers fine affect , Though ere so small or slender , shining faire , With golden rings and sparkling Diamonds rare . I care not for thy tender lovely locks , Though glistring like pure wooll among the flocks . I care not for thy temples faire and high , Though deckt with fragrant flowrs most curiously . I care not for thine armes more white than snow , Or , than the purest Ivie that can grow . I care not for thy tender tinckling feet , Although for wanton dances ere so meete . Finally , neither can thy body fine Nor any of thy bodies outward shine Allure my minde , entice me , thee to spare , I , nought at all , for all thy neatnesse , care . For , well thou know'st , for this thy Candor quaint , Painters , doe me , a mans dead karkasse paint , Consisting of bare bones , with sinews joynd Where , thou , nor eares , nor eyes , nor nose canst finde , Naked , deformed , ugly to be seene Of neither sexe , handling a Sithe most keene . O artificiall piece of Painters wise ! Deform'd , indeed , but full of mysteries . And , wilt thou ( Damsell ) heare me them relate ? For thy sake ( then ) I 'll do 't most accurate , Although , therein , thy outward beauty gay I nought regard . Then listen , these are they . First , I am shewn , with hollow holes , no eyes To signifie , I no mans person prize , Of whatsoever power or dignity , Of whatsoever wealth or quality . I also am described without eares , To shew that death no mans petition heares , And that no prayer or humblest supplication Can of my furie finde least mitigation . I pourtray'd am , without a Nose to smell , Thereby ( vaine dainty Damsell ) thee to tell ▪ And thee lascivious wanton gallant brave , That I , in thy sweet sents no pleasure have . Againe , I pictur'd am naked and bare To intimate that I doe nothing care For earthly substance or for treasure great , For bribes or gifts , which worldly wise doe cheate . I also am depainted without skin , Or flesh or bloud , all raw-bon'd , meagre , thin ; To shew , assure , ( O Damsell delicate , O spruce nice youths , too fond , effeminate , That neither your rare glistring beauty bright , Nor vaine faire out sides can me ought delight . Yet further , I in neither sexe am showne ; Whereby it may be eviden●ly knowne , That I have firme resolved not to spare Or male or female , whatsoere they are . Finally , I am figur'd ( still ) to stand With a most large and sharp Sithe in my hand , To shew , that as the Mower in the field Makes Corne and Grasse unto his Sithe to yeeld So , I from off the earth doe all men mow , As ( thus ) the Poet pithily doth show . Sicut ante falcem seges ; Ante mortem summi Reges . That is , As Corne before the Sithe most keene , So in Deaths presence , Kings are seene . Fl. And , art thou so inexorable , Death ? That thou spar'st none , bereavest all of breath . De. I , I spare none , not one , who ere they be . Fl. Alas , this seemeth most unjust to mee ; What ? dost thou lusty lively youths destroy , But newly stept upon the brincke of joy ? Together with the old decrepid Sire , Who , worne with age , seems every houre t' expire , And breathe his last , by aches , curelesse paines , And therefore counts thy presence precious gaines . De. All 's one to me , the youngling or the sage . Fl. Alas , what profit's ( then ) in youthfull age ? Since youth and old age have but one condition , And must submit to Fates most dire commission . De. Indeed , if thou dost their condition eye , They both are subject to Mortality ; But , if their probable-departure hence , Thou mayst discerne this onely difference ; As , young-men , soone may dye , though ere so strong : So , old-men can't alive continue long . Death is for old-men ever at the gate , For young-men he with nets and snares doth wait . To old-men he is still before their eyes , To young-men close behinde their backes he lyes . Death is the child hood of weake infancie , Death is the lad-age of our childe-hoodry , Death is the youth of our lad-age estate , Death is the manly-hood of youthfull fate . Death is the old-age of our man-hood stout , Death after old age doth decrepid flout . For Death is of Decrepid-age the Death , And ( thus ) t is plaine that None that ere drew breath Could sheltred be in such a close estate , But , Death made entrance in Him , soone or late . Fl. Alas , I surely thought ( but plainly see , I did but gull my selfe ) that None like Mee , So lusty , lively , in their youthfull-blood So fresh in flower of age , so quickly shood Be nipt and cropt , but , might make truce with death , And so enjoy a longer , happier breath . De. O no , for , short is that felicity , Which still is tended with fragility . Fl. Ah , though t is short , yet , who desires it not ? De. He that a tyresome tedious life hath got . Fl. Yet , euen he would scape death if he might . De. Hast thou nere heard or read those lessons right . That , 't is farre best , not to be borne at all , Or soone to leave this life most tragicall . That , dead than living , are in happier state . That , nought than Sleepe does Death more personate . That , Death 's the hav'n of ills , the help 'gainst woe , The onely easer of all griefes that grow . That all must dye , that death concludes all strife , That death is better , happier , farre than life . Fl. That I have read them oft , to minde I call , But , held none true , and so forgot them all . De. It seemes indeed , th' are all slipt out of minde . Fl. True , for , those things , in which , no joy we finde , We scarce beleeve , and eas'ly let them goe . De. But say , think'st thou that thou shalt die , or no ? Fl. I thinke I shall , but yet withall I hope The day 's farre off , ere Death with me will cope . De. We hope things good , we hate things that are bad . And , what can worse be either held or had , Than a continuall warfare , jarre and strife , And , still to prop a transitorie life ? Fle. O , but , what ere does please , gives ease to all . De. And , canst thou that a pleasant passage call ? Which is encombred with so many Straites , Whereon , fierce famine , thirst , and labour waits , Crosses and losses , and a sea of woe , Which , from corrupted life doe fleet and flow ? Fl. Men us'd to paine are not so passionate ; And we are so inur'd to such a state , And , daily so acquainted with all these , That , we scarse feele them ; or , though felt , they plese . De. Wouldst thou not count it a choice benefit , If , one would thee of these dire fetters quit ? Fl. Yes , I should hold it the best favour found , If , first , I could beleeve that I am bound . De. Peace , peace , for shame , canst thou not plainely see Lifes discommodities base bonds to be ? Fl. O spare me , prethee , till I think them so , Till I beleeve them such , pray let me goe . De. Nay , now I smell thy Foxe-like fallacie , I 'll not doe so , nor shalt thou so me tye As ( once ▪ one did , who spying me draw neere , And brandishing this fatall-Sithe I beare Still in my hand . This onely suit did make , That with my deadly dart I would not take His life from him , untill he quite had done His deepe devotions , pious prayers begun , Which finished , hee 'd thanke me very much , And , quietly to dye would never grutch . I having ea●●ly granted his petition , And bound my selfe by oath , to this condition , Not once to touch him , till he quite had ended His orizons and prayers so pretended : He instantly left off , left me deluded , And from that time he with himselfe concluded , And made a vow , he never Death would pray To spare him , more , unto his dying-day . Mayd , 't is most easie , never to beleeve , Things we desire not , and , which most us grieve , But , I will deale with thee another way , And cause thee ( instantly ) aside to lay This vicious most pernicious fond opinion . Then lend an eare , put off ( thou wanton Minion ) Thy carnall-nicenesse , for , I 'll now declare Things which to thee most wholsome , healthsome are . Hee 's teachable that diligently heares , Shew thy selfe such and lend me thy prest eares . So shalt thou surely understand and finde , That I have ( herein ) bin to thee most kinde Fl. O Death , I 'll heare thee most attentively ; But , O , I would not have thee in mine eye . De. Then , shut thine eyes , onely set ope thine eares , And now ( first ) tell me , how thou spend'st thy yeares ? How thou employst thy selfe , what paines dost take ? What dost thou daily thy chiefe pleasure make ? That thou art so much taken and delighted With Lifes false fleeting sweets ? more fitly slighted . Fl. O Sir , my Exercises be most sweet , And to my nature , every way most meet . I feele no frying heat , nor freezing cold , My hand did never wheele or distaffe hold , My heart in serious studies I nere pent , To sweeter pleasures , I my selfe have bent , Namely , in delicate delights to flow , To please my tooth , to publike sports to goe , To swim in luscious liquor , sparkling wine , To be arayd in vestures rich and fine . To be a guest at banquets , nuptiall-feasts , To be at Playes and other joviall-jests . To dance lascivious measures , spend the nights With youthfall Gallants , juvenile delights , On rich embroydered beds of Doune to lie , My flesh in sweet hot bathes to clarifie . Finely to feed , fully to sleepe and snort , To fill my flesh with pleasures of each sort . De. But , that thou maist thine own prime-state review , And take a just account and reckoning true , How thou hast spent each day from morn to night , What speciall work does this taske expedite ? Fl. I never worke , nor any worke desire , My onely businesse is earths joyes t' acquire . De. What joyes are they ? I prethee to me show ; Sure they be rare , whence such rare love doth grow . Fl. My chiefest care is for my cloaths and meat , My dainty breakfast in my bed to eate , Which is provided in such costly wise , That nothing wants my palate to suffice . This proeme past ; that all things may concurre To answer my desires , in bed I stirre And rowle my selfe by soft-degrees most slow , ( As , when a doore smooth on the hinge doth goe ) And , thus , a sweet and soaking nap , I take , Desirous nothing more to shun , forsake , Then forreine quarrels , and domesticke strife , From publike tumults , to preserve my life ; To shun all Courtly cares , to spend my dayes In silent rest , and be at ease alwayes ; To make my selfe most s●icke and smooth with fat , At bankets full of merry-table-chat . De. But , now I hope thou wilt at last arise . Fl. Yes , that I will ; for , I doe not so prize My Bed , to make it my worlds sole delight , Nor my bed-chamber a theatrick-sight . But , now , Sols glorious rayes paynting the skies , With golden-beames and glistring on mine eyes Through the transparent-windowes ; nicely , I Call for my Gowne full of embroydery , Of various , curious colours , wrought most rare With Flora's imitable tap'stry fayre . Which , ere put on , how many thoughts have I Touching its neatnes or its bravery ? Sometime , I such a gorgeous Gowne do prize , As may attract on me beholders eyes ; But , instantly , therewith some fault I finde , And then another Coat I call to minde . For that , againe ( when brought ) I doe not care For , eyther t is too-heavy for my weare , Or , for the times not fashionate enough , I therefore , quickely , cast it off , in snuffe ; And , for another ( yet ) I foorthwith send ; Thus I in choosing cloathes whole mornings spend . De. And thus , I thinke , by trying them they teare , As much , or more , than if thou didst them weare . Fl. My Clothes , at last , put-on to my content , Within mine owne doores I cannot be pent : But , instantly , gad-out , and thither goe , Where greatest concourse of fit Mates I know . Nor am I mindfull much of Novelties , That is my Mistresse Soules chiefe exercise ▪ De. Thou sayst most true , for , She intends the mind , But , thou , thy meat , to feasting still inclinde . For , t is the Mindes connative quality To be most greedy after novelty . Fl. True . But I haunt not common-confluences Of people , for such purpose ; but my senses Finde ( inwardly ) selfe-tickling daintinesse Which , or I cannot , or I ●ill suppresse . This , thus , within me sparkes more ardently And , thus , thereto , more fuell I applie . For , if in that concourse of Gallants great I spie a prime-rose-youth most compt and neat He me , no sooner eyes then fries with love ; And from his guardian , soone , himselfe does move , And followes me , where-ere m● lust him leads . If I but frowne , a sigh his sorrow pleads ; If I but smile , he is most jocond , straite , On each kinde word , a laugh doth ever waite : He sports with 's spoyler , ignorant , meane while , That he ( thus ) dallies but with Ismael vile , D. Thus whiles thou play'st , thou prey'st , yea stay'st the youth . Fl. 'T is so , indeed , thou sayst the very truth . For , whomsoere I view , if he obey , I either deeply wound , or deadly slay . Yet , neither I my selfe unhurt depart , For , I , by nature , have so kinde a heart That he , whom by my lust , I captive take , Doth me ( thereby ) his servile Captive make . De. Thus , for the most part , it betideth , still , The Spoyler proves a spoyle , by after-ill . But , prethee tell me , whither dost thou lead This lustfull-Lad , that thus thy paths doth tread ? Fl. I 'll freely tell thee all , and nothing hide . This lusty Lecher still doth by me bide , And , if I finde him worthy every way , My best embraces to my bed most gay Adorn'd with rich and rare wrought tapestry , Full of love-sweets , I bring him by and by . But , first , if Cupid call for delicates , We have a banquet , which lust stimulates ; In which , and amorous tales we spend the day , Or else goe see some sight , or merry play . Or , if we please to walke the pleasant fields , Where Flora's Beauty fayre much comfort yeelds ▪ We , hand in hand , or arme in arme doe goe And , wanton jests and gestures , oft , do show . Our names we grave upon the barke of trees , Or else ( at last ) we tyred with all these , Doe lye and coole us under some coole shade , Or else in some sweet hot-bath , ready made , We both doe bathe , our joynts to supple more , Thus , softly , sweetly , is my life past ore . De. A brave account ( sure ) of a gallant state , But , tell me , whether ought thou didst relate , Hath made thee better or a jot more wise ? Fl. Pish , I least care to purchase such a prize , As honesties or wisedomes ayrie-gaine , Let him that will ( for me ) those entertaine . My flesh is tickled , toucht with tendernesse , This world , mine Inne , doth wholly me possesse , De. But , all wise men of whom I ever heard , Have , evermore , that life , as best , preferr'd , Wherein , they , every day , themselves have found In gravity and goodnesse to abound . Fl. Yet , did not they with all their goodnesse perish ? De. So thinks the world , but yet , in heav'n they flourish Fl. Well , be it so . And let them live there still , So I may have worlds-pleasure at my will . De. I ? say'st thou so ? yet , prethee say againe , Whiles thou dost such a jocund life sustaine , In what case does thy Mistresse , soule abide ? Does she not with thee sharply chafe and chide ? Fl. Indeed , shee 's somewhat angry with me , oft , But , with a smiling looke and answer soft , I can her quickly please , But usually I leave her in her closets privacie , Close at her prayers ; where , if she stayes too long I cease not to suggest , with motions strong , All my distracting-pleasures , to her minde , Whereby , she , in that exercise can finde But little ioy and comfort ; which , to me , Tedious and irkesome , I ( still ) finde to be . Meane-while , my Heaven born Mistresse Lady great , Transported with coelestiall zealous heat And sacred furie , chides me bitterly , And , with these words , her anger out doth flie . " O! how perversely dost thou shew thy selfe , " How troublesome to me ( thou carnall elfe ) " Why dost thou such base thoughts to me suggest " When I am to my pious prayers addrest ? " Thou should'st me evermore , in all , obey , " And not my heart with such vaine-toyes orelay . " Hast thou not read what I have writ and plac'd " Over my Chamber-doore ? there , read thou may'st , " And rightly know , what I most wish , desire ; " My God to get is all I doe require . ( For , this , indeed , is her inscription , still ) " O doe not , then , pervert and change my will . " I know whom I have served and obay'd , " Nay , whose blest-bride , my selfe , I , thus , have made , " Nothing , to me , more odious is than sin ; " Nothing , than Prayer , hath , ere , more pleasant been . " O! let the doores be , then , barr'd-up most fast , " That all the House may inward lustre cast : " Let both the eyes be shut and closed ever , " That , loathsome lust may be admitted never . In such-like maner ( oft ) she useth me , But , from my practise I le not altred be ▪ For , ever still , I slily doe foment Some new and unknown tickling toy to vent , Which may not onely much distract her minde From sacred meditations ; but may binde And re-unite her love a fresh to me , Then , I to her , make this complaint , most free . " Sweet Mistresse , you your-selfe too sharply use , " And , too-too strict and rigid courses chuse : " O! will you , ne're , your owne rare beauty minde ? " But , still , be to your selfe , so curst , unkinde ? " O! spare your eyes , weepe not so much , so oft " Turne not , into hard horne , your knees so soft , " By frequent kneeling ; you have long enough " Yea too-long led a life austere and rough ; " i le finde you merrier mates , if you 'll forsake " Your closet , and , with me , worlds joyes partake . My lovely Lady , heereupon , replies : " How merrily , at Dice , the time hence flies , " How muddily , at Prayers , it stickes and stayes , " How still it steales away , at sports and playes ? " How slow it seemes to goe , how tedious spent , " When , at Gods worship , we are most intent ? And thus , my Mistresse heereto condiscends ▪ And ready eares to my allurement lends . De. It seemes , then , that the mayd , her mistresse sways . Fl. Most true . For she , in nothing , me gaine-sayes : But alwayes holds me as her merriest mate , Hugs me , with kisses does me consolate . We be as one , `wee 'gree as one , in all , Namely , that we quench nor the sparkles small Of our sweet Loves deare lusts , but them fulfill Not to deterre , but to preferre them still . De. Thus , thou ( O flesh ) given as thy Mistresse ayde Art her destruction and chiefe scandall made . Fl. O Sir , y' are much mistaken in the thing , Rather , much joy and solace , I her bring . De. Thou dost not ioy , but her annoy with woe . Fl. Nay , then farewell Sir , if you censure so , De. Farewell ? nay soft , ther 's no way to evade , For ( yet ) more talke , I have thus long delayde . Nay , whimper not , you doe but beat the ayre , If , for your strugling , you thinke I 'll you spare . Fl. Let me alone , or I aloud will cry ; If thou provok'st me with thy cruelty . De. Canst thou accuse me , now of fornication ? Fl. No , but for theft I 'll bring mine accusation . De. Indeed , if accusations may suffice , The innocentest party guilty lyes : But , can it by thy nimble wit be showne , To be a theft to claime and take mine owne ? Fl. If those two Pronounes mine and thine might cease , The worlds deep discord would not so encrease . De. How right thou hit'st the nayle , yea , pamper'd flesh , Whiles thou dost live , jars wil arise afresh . I tell thee , Wench , thy white skin , painted face , Does in a Realme raise more contentions base , Than all thy Ladies utmost art or skill And strength of wit is able ( ere ) to still . But , I have caught thee , now , and thou art mine , I 'll now take care to end thy cheats most fine . Fl. O , I had rather run into a Stewes , Than such a spighted Spittle-House to choose . De. I easily beleeve thee , but , now know Thou must such Brothell-houses quite forgoe . Death to the Suburbs now , hath made his way , Then ( neer the walls ) thou inmate canst not stay . Fl. What dost thou meane to touch me ? raw-bon'd face , De. To give thee ( now ) a deadly cold embrace . Fl. Most irkesome and unpleasant are esteem'd Th' embraces of a wooer , ugly deem'd . But what ? is Death in love with flesh , I pray ? De. Yes eagerly , thy flesh to turne to clay . Fl. Thou needs must be in love , who art in want . De. I therefore covet , 'cause I feele such scant . Fl. Will not a piece of me give thee content ? De. No , by no meanes , for ti 's most evident That deaths devouring jawes , no parts will take , But all or nothing is his proper stake . Fl. Yet , many Gallants full of youthfull heate , Famous for beauty brave , and bodies neate , Have thought themselves t' have got an ample prey , If , on these roseall lips they could but lay And fixe one onely kisse , and wisht no more , And yet must thou , worne lancke and thin , all-ore , And , as thou seemst to me , bloodlesse and bare ; Have me all-whole , as thine insatiate share ? De. I will not bare one inch , I le have thee full . Fl. Oh! whither dost thou , thus , me hale and pull ? De. Even to my horrid-house of clay , the Grave . Fl. O! must thou such an expiation have ? Must my fayre corps fill-up an uglie urne ? De. It must , indeed , and must to dust returne . Fl. And , what companions shall I therein finde ? De. Onely great crawling wormes , bred of thy kinde . Fl. O! wilt thou not me spare , but one yeere more ? De. No , not one howre , I told thee so , before . A Statute-Law , heerein , doth on me lie , And I my charge must discharge , instantly . Fl. What ? Instantly ? Ay me most wofull wretch ! Spare me , but till I doe my Mistresse fetch : For , she , alas , doth little dreame of thee , Or , of thy now so neere approach to me . De. Indeed , I thinke no lesse ; for I beleeve , Thou friendlier entertaynment wouldst me give , If more familiarly thou didst me know . But , hence , such strangenesse doth betweene us grow : And , hence , I am your so unwelcome guest , 'Cause , scarce , one thought of me is ere exprest . Yet , call her foorth , I le promise make , nere doubt , I le thee not touch , before she , first , comes out . Fl. O Mistresse , Mistresse ! are you , now , asleepe , More sound than ere you us'd , that hence you keepe ? Soule . Thou art deceiv'd , Mayd , if thou thinkest so ; That ever I did sleepe , I doe not know . But , what 's the newes ? what is the cause and case , That thou me call'st , with such a frighted face ? Fl O Mistresse ! ther 's extreme necessity Faln on us both ; for , most impetuously A stranger knockes at doore , of horrid hew , And ( if I may speake what I thinke is true ) Of fierce aspect , a most deformed creature , And every way of most uncomely feature . He stands without , but spite of you or me He plainly threats that he let-in must be . So. Who is 't , I prethee , that so saucily Behaves himselfe ? what ? Is 't not fit that I Should mistresse be of mine ? bid him let 's see What right he has to enter , then , tell me . Fl. Tender ( indulgent Mistresse ) I you pray Your tender Mayden , Flesh , I neither may , Nor dare so much as looke him in the face , Much lesse expostulate , with him , the case I would not for a thousand worlds and more Goe backe againe ( alone ) to him , to th' doore : So gastly , ghostly , frightfull , spritelike , he , Fierce , furious , fatall , doth appeare to me . So. Then tell me ( prethee ) what may be his name , Or whence this formidable creature came . Fl. Aske him your selfe ( I pray ) a monster , sure , O , I cannot to talke with him endure . For , such bold liberty of speech he us'd , And me without least blushing so abus'd , As that he , me , his Paramour did call , And , on me layd his fatall Pawes withall . Onely , he ( herein ) shew'd some courtesie And plighted promise to me seriously , That , untill you ( deare Mistresse ) came out hence , He would not on me use his violence . So. Alas , poore foole , and what wilt thou then be When I thy Mistresse , Soule , goe out of thee ? Nothing ( alas ) but a poore karkasse dead , On which , foule crawling worms must full be fed . But , I 'll goe meet him and doe what I may Timely to tame his pride . Who art thou ? say ? De. I am the utmost end of every thing . Fl. O Mistresse goe not neere him , feare his sting , O , if you love me , send him ( soone ) away , By treats or threats , by force or fullest pay ; By any meanes , we must him quickly quaile , And packe him hence , or our whole house will faile . So. Peace peevish wench , I 'll forth & talke with him . Who ere thou art , under this vizard grim , Horrid Hobgoblin-like , which dost beset And thus unseas'nably our household fret And fright , and much disquiet our sweet rest , Know this , that thou canst nought at all molest Or terrifie my soule , no though thou bring A thousand deadly darts , and dost them fling With utmost furie , and this Court surround , Yet with least feare thou never canst me wound . What , though my carnall Mayde , the flesh be frighted ? For , shee 's ( indeed ) with nicenesse o're-delighted , And unacquainted with so grim aspects , And such unpleasing spectacles neglects ? Yet , my prepared soule shakes off such feares , And all such frights as buzing-flyes out-beares . Then cut off all delayes , make plaine relation , What is thy name , and proper compellation ? De. I fright not folkes with any Titles strange , Nor yet with many , mighty names doe range ; My name is short , yet sharp to what hath breath , And I by all , am vulgarly call'd Death . So. 'T is very well . Fl. But , fare you well were better ; His hideous presence does me feare and fetter . De. But Lady , if you please , I will more plaine Explaine my selfe ; I , to the heavenly Traine Am hasty-Herald . Bodies Dissolution . Th' Inevitable-End . The Resolution Of all things . And , the Robber of Mankinde . To thee being sent , thee friendly to unbinde And set at liberty : this thy nice-Mayd The flesh , to see , in her Sepulture layd . Fl. What Sepulture , I pray ? De. An earthly bed , With a clay-pillow underneath thy head . Fl. I have no need of such a Chamberlaine To make a Bed for me , so coorse and plaine , I have already , beds more soft and sweet , And , than thy bed , for m● ( me thinks ) more meet . So. I think you meane the Grave to be your bed , De. You think most true & hit the nayle o' th head This I have ready made , then let your Mayd Goe downe with me , for , therefore have I stayd , And therefore am I hither come to thee , And , this demand is thus commanded me . So. Nor may I such Commission disobey . Fl. O my deere Mistresse , send him ( soone ) away , O will you ( now ) forsake me ? O , wherein Have I ( so farre ) to you offensive bin ? Thus to be left , have I not still regarded And done your will ? and must be ( thus ) rewarded ? Peace , Mayd , we must resistlesse-Fate obay , Death is not sent to be sent backe with Nay . And , surely , if thou soundly didst conceive And rightly weigh these things , thou wouldst perceive And see and say that ( thus ) thou much dost gaine , Rather than any detriment sustaine . Fl. O when shall I this Paradoxe hold true ? So. When sense doth yeeld , and reason doth subdue Fl. Must ( then ) my sense to reason so submit ? So. I , by all meanes , it is most just and fit . Fl. O strange ! then what have you ( my Mistresse done ▪ Who have bin still by my perswasions won , And , all this while , to them have lent your eare , Listning to me ( your Mayde ) without all feare , Whiles I my selfe was wholly led along , And taken up with lustfull senses strong . I still was angling with this hooke and bait , And you to catch it , greedily did waite . Thus , you with least allurements I could traine From Prayers to Playes ; things sacred to prophane . Thus , not your reason but my carnall-sense Led you along with fearelesse confidence . Why ( then ) doe you ( now ) reason so much presse ? Which , you your selfe , so long , did thus transgresse . So. O Mayden , Mayden , this is it , indeed , ●hat makes me ( now ) so willing to be freed , And thee forsake ; unlesse my soule I 'll kill , ● freely must confesse I did thy will ; But , O my soule , thou hast an Inmate bin Too long ( alas ) in this darke house of sin . Yet , be not sorry that I now must leave thee , And that thy Mother , Earth , must now receive thee . ●Whence first I thee received as my friend , And , whither ( now ) I doe thee recommend ) For , 't is that I may thee enjoy againe , A body farre more faire , without least stayne . Fl. Is 't possible that I can fairer be ? By lying in the earth disioyn'd from thee ? Who but a mad man can beleeve this thing ? ●hat such a place should glistring beauty bring ? ●nd make my flesh more faire ? where earth 's my bed , ●he Grave 's my house , and wormes on me are fed . So. Yet , thus 't will be . For , dost thou not ( now ) find ●hat sleepe makes thee of livelier , fresher minde ? Fl. What then ? So. What sleep is , that is death also . Fl. But , death is too too long a sleepe , I trow . So. Why shouldst thou judge so ? who would think sleeps Too long , whom , in her armes , his Mother keeps ? Fl. Rather his Step-dame , who 'd not that refuse ? So. Thou dost thy Mother most unkindly use . Is not the Earth thy naturall-mother just ? From thence thou cam'st , thither returne thou must . Thou , hitherto , art most unworthy knowne , Of my aboad with thee , and kindnesse showne : I have but us'd thee as an Inne by th' way ; Wherein , although , I , peradventure , may Lodge for a night , yet may not there remaine ; Feare not to die ( then ) death shall be thy gaine ; Since , t is a Passage , and sets-ope the gate , Of a more happie life , more blessed state . De. Forbeare , I pray , these tedious altercations , Death cannot suffer such procrastinations . Many great tasks on me imposed are , Which I must expedite with speciall care . So. And , we will readily heavens will obay ; Onely , forbeare a little while , I pray , Till I have made my Maid more fit for thee , For , she is nice and timorous , you see , And is much frighted at thy fearfull face , Stand by ( therefore ) I pray , a little space ; Till I but onely her more pl●ant make , To thy unwelcome message ; and to take My wholsome counsels , admonitions free , Which , being done , I will most readie be To tread the foot-steps of that Gorgias grave , In sweet desire my passage forth to have : Who , being asked ( once ) if willingly He was content to leave this life and dye , Answer'd ; Yes truly ; For , I go hence , glad , As from a rotten ruin'd Cottage bad . De. I pray proceed ( then ) and perform your mind . So. Come neere ( my Flesh ) to me thy Mrs. kinde , Prepare thy plyant eares , and facile heart , To these last precepts , which I 'le now impart . Fl. Deare Mistresse , speake , for whatsoere you say I ready am to heare , to grant , obay . So. Friends parting-words most inly penetrate And ●he sad sighes they ( then ) ejaculate , Do in the hearers heart stampe deepe impression , And make them yeeld farre more intent concession . We both are ( now ) a long-farewell to take , And I from thee , and thou from me must make A separation , and disunion large ; Come hither ( then ) and heare my parting-charge , Prepare , and fit thy selfe , forthwith , for Death , Before he fiercely comes to stop thy breath . Forsake those pleasures , wherewith ( heretofore ) Thou wast engaged , yea ingulft all ore ; Leave them , I say , and being left , despise them And henceforth as thy souls chiefe murtherers prize them , And , now , the small remains of time yet lent , To gaine thy God in Christ , let whole be spent . The fight is short , the victory is great . And though the skirmish may much danger threat ; By how much more thou dost in battell strive , The more the ioy , in conquest , thee'll revive . For , marke this one thing in a speciall measure , If , for the love of earth and carnall pleasure Thou leave Gods love , and seeme his Grace to scorn Gods love will leave thee wretched and forlorne , Even in thine houre of most necessity , And give thee over to hels tyranny . Thou art arriv'd ( now ) at the Haven of rest , Where vessels must be firmely rig'd and drest . Thy day of death , which , as thy last , did fright thee , Is thy eternall Birth day to delight thee . Then cast off every clog that would thee stay If any darling sin lye in thy way Which thou extremely hast delighted in ( As , with too many thou hast tyred bin ) Then leave it , loath it . For , thy foot must tread A holier way , a happier life to lead . What ere is brittle , is of little price , And being fraile doth faile us in a trice ; And now thy feeble flesh must needs abide The common-Chance which does all sorts betide . Then , wonder not , thy Predecessours all Did tread the selfe-same path , both great and small , How aptly answered they in such-like case ? Whether we watch or sleepe in any place , Whether we talke or silent hold or peace , Whether we walk or from our works doe cease , Whether we will or nill in any thing , By times least minutes we doe daily bring Our sliding , gliding dayes ( at last ) to end , And then to natures course must bow & bend . Then weep not ( my poore Mayd ) cease showres of tears At this my parting from thee , cease all fears . In heavens duetime , we both againe shall meet , And with full joy enjoy a union sweet . Fl. Deare Mistresse , these your admonitions kinde Doe mightily prevaile and ease my minde . Yet , I cannot some strugling thoughts dissemble To thinke to dye and be dissolv'd , I tremble . So. Alas ( weake Flesh ) that 's it I most desire ; To be dissolv'd , and flye to th' heav'nly Quire . O doe not thou indulge thy selfe too much , Why dost thou looke so pale at deaths sweet touch ? Why dost thou quake and quiver at his sight ? Since thou shalt have a frame more faire and bright Than ever ( yet ) thou hadst or canst conceive ; These rotten mud-walls thou must onely leave , To be pull'd downe and be built up againe To turne to dust , then ( ever ) new remaine . He ( onely ) feare of death is fit to show , Which to his Saviour Christ is loath to goe ; ● goe before that I may see his face , We both shall joyne , and hee 'll us both embrace . Meane-while thou must sleepe sweetly in thine urne , And , there into thy native dust returne , from whence thou shalt in farre more beauty rise , ●nd see thy Saviour , even with these same eyes . ●or , thou art laid in earth , to lay-away Thy earthly-substance , corrupt state of clay . Be then couragious . For , as corne , men sowe , Must , first , dye in the ground , before it grow , Must , first , seeme rotten , ere it rise againe : Even so thy Body , like unto the graine , Must , first , lye dead and rotten in the grave , Ere it in heaven , eternity can have . Fl. Now , truly Mistresse , you have sweetly said ; I now am much assur'd , and well apaid : Being ( thus ) fore-warn'd , I am fore-arm'd from feare , Death's face is ( now ) lesse terrible , than ere . And ( now ) O lovelesse-life , burnt out enough , Put out thy light , ceasse ( now ) thy twinckling snuffe , Farewell , deare Mistresse , sweetest , soule , farewell ; In this assured hope , ring out my knell . That in my Gods good time , I , rais'd shall be , With thee , my soule , my Saviour Christ to see . So. Having this hope , in dying thou shalt live ; And , I , with joy , shall me to thee , regive . De. How hardly can these two divorced be ? Have ye done talking ? and given way to me ? Your mutuall last-farewell take ( now ) I pray ; Time and my taske will ( now ) no longer stay . So. O Death , I prethee ( now ) take thine own time ; Make haste , that I , to heaven my haven may clime Come ( now ) and put thy charge in execution , For , I , with this one well-fixt resolution , Will winde up all . I have not so liv'd here , In this vaine world ( yet , hereunto , I feare , I have beene too-inclin'd , too much affected , Which , now I grieve , and leave thee more neglected As that to live ( here ) longer , I should shame , Or that I durst not dye for feare of blame : And that because I serve a Master kinde , Whom I , in Christ , doe reconciled finde . Thus , therefore to goe out of this fraile life , Is to goe into heavenly pleasures rife : Thus , life to leave , is aye to live in Peace , In full fruition of all joyes encrease : Thus , thee my Mayd , I to the earth commend , Whiles I Heavens Kingdome happily ascend . De. Thus ( then ) adeu To both of you . The end of the first Dialogue .
The Second DIALOGUE . Betweene the Divell , the Flesh , and the World . The Argument of the second Dialogue . The World and Flesh to every evill Are onely Agents for the Divell : But here , the Flesh being mortifi'de , Sathans suggestions are deny'de ; Who can do nought but tempt to ill , Has no more power , although more Will ; Which amply to the world he showes , And how ore carnall men he crowes . But neither ( yet ) the world effects , Nor , He himselfe his foule projects Vpon the sanctified Heart , Dead to the world and hels blacke Art . The Divell ( thus ) repell'd each way With rage recoyles , makes ( there ) no stay . Di. WHere are ye my comragues , my servants true ? My Martiall-mates , by whom I must subdue ? What ? is there no hope left to lift or force The sullen Soule from her religious course ? Whereon she is so fixt and fully bent . What ? no devise this geere for to prevent ? Must my high glory suffer such eclipse ? And be so child , nigh kild with pious nips ? Surely , I ever since my first great fall Have burn'd with lust , and boyl'd with bitter gall Of deepe desire to fence and fortifie , Yea and expatiate our large Emperie . Yet still I finde by old experience , That whiles the soule gets the preheminence , Ore thee the flesh , reason the soule subjects , And grace guides reason , all hath ill effects : My projects perish and my engines faile , My force growes feeble and my power does vaile . Be stirring ( then ) my Champions old and brave , For , work enough to doe , yee see ye have . Fie , are ye not asham'd more sound to sleep Now , than ye us'd , and sluggishly to keepe Your hands within your bosomes , since that you Have for your Master so much work to doe ? For shame arise , shake off this drowsinesse , And hunt and haunt about with eagernesse . Now is my Summer-season , harvest faire , Which , if by your neglect and want of care It be let slip and fruitlesly past over . Farewell all hope for ever to recover My owne peculiar strength and princely state : O then faire flesh , neat , nice and delicate , My faithfull servant , whom above the rest I most doe trust and ever prized best ; And , on whose strong assistance and brave ayde I ever have my chiefe assurance stayde , And justly too : For , a domesticke foe Wounds the more deeply , gives the deadlier blow . But what hast thou beene doing all this while ? Why dost thou thus waste time ? my hopes beguile ? What ? wilt thou ( now ) prove turne-coat , backward flye And leave me in my most necessity ? Fl. Alas , I know not what to doe or say ! My Mistresse hath me starv'd and pin'd away ; And to hard fastings , she harsh stripes does adde , I wretch am nought but skin and bone ; too bad . Whereby I am not unto lust incited , Nor with lascivious mo●ions ought delighted : If I to walke abroad to friends affect , I am recall'd , shut up , and soundly checkt ; If I desire full feasts enflam'd with wine , She useth on me most sharpe discipline . What ere is irkesome to me she commands , What ere delightsome , stricktly she withstands . Then , in this case , alas , what should I doe ? I cannot her content , and yet serve you . Di. Thou say'st most true . But how may this thing be ? That she should so much curb and bridle thee ? What ? hast thou lost all power of reluctations ? All thy most slye acustom'd inchantations ? I have thee knowne a most facetious-Lasse , A nimble Artist , apt to bring to passe With fine insinuations her to prove , And , so , thy selfe t'ingratiate in her love ; Where are those fiery tickling darts layd by ? Wherewith thy soule thou woundedst frequently ▪ Where are ( I say ) those carnall cogitations Which with importunate rife molestations Did beat upon thy heart ? occasioned By drinke , sleepe , pleasure , flesh-much pampered ? Hast thou forgot , that death first entrance made At those two windowes which the soule betrayd ? Where are ( then ) those bright sparkling lights most fayre ? Which us'd to be ensnar'd and to ensnare . Canst thou behold no face , as thy fit prize ? Or hast thou pull'd-out lust-alluring eyes ? Or , is 't for love of vertue , my chiefe foe , That thou dost lifes sweet pleasures thus forgoe ? Fl. My Mistresse 't is that on me does inflict A rigid sparing course and life most strict . Di. And , what of that ? must thou therfore be nice ? Fle. O Sir , a moderate life does murther vice ; Quite quencheth lust , doth valiant vertue nourish , Corroborates the soule , makes the minde flourish , And elevate it selfe to things above ; Whereby it comes to passe that I still prove More faint and feeble , she more active is ; She stronger ; I more weake to doe a misse . Di. Thou dost endure sharp slavery indeed ; I wish thee ( then ) shake off thy yoake with speed . Deale roundlier with thy soule , her tartly chide , For , if so Saint-like she in thee abide , And exercise on thee such holinesse , Thou loosest me , and dost thy selfe distresse . Thou must therefore , beginnings most withstand , And have this Sentence ready still at hand , Pleasure is of all ill the luscious meat . This , thou must sugredly suggest , repeat Vnto the minde of thy great Mistresse faire , With this thou must her heart entice , ensnare , Which part , by thee , with wit and craft well playd , Thou hast the day , and victour shalt evade . Fl. But , these mine armes unarmed are and faint , My courage dead ; I can me not acquaint With earths delights , nor seeke nor yet suggest To any pleasures , for I them detest . My nimblenesse of wit doth faile me quite , Connative-lust in me hath lost it's might . I see not ought unlawfully to will , I more wish food , than pleasures to fulfill . Di. I ? is it so ? returne ( then ) to thy dust ; Thou art not worthy my least love or trust . Yet stay a while , for I 'll to thee call forth My other agent of more precious worth . Which , with more care and sedulous respect Will all my high designes fully effect . ●ome neere , most worthy World , my stedfast friend , My matchlesse Mouse-trap , whereinto I send Besotted sinners , who , with heedlesse hearts Are caught , whiles they neglect soule-saving parts . Thou , world , I say , who when thou seem'st to smile , Dost much more hurt , than when thou dost turmoile . And , when thou dost entice to be affected , Art most to be avoyded , disrespected ; Then , with supine neglect to be despised , When men by thee are forced or advised . Hence 't is that they which have thy favour found , Are like those men , which in deep seas are drownd . Wo. Sir , I am ready and most promptly prest , In all things to performe your high behest ; Most forward , free , t' endure all labours great To suffer pinching hunger , cold or heat , Yea , and what not ? whereby I may expresse My bounden Best , to you , with eagernesse . Di. Hark , dost thou hear my most obsequious Client ? How readily addrest , how prest and pliant ? With all approved care his best to bend The confines of our Kingdome to extend . Fl. I heare right well , and cannot choose but smile : D. What makes thee smile , thou thin-skin'd quean most vile Fl. His madnes , which a measure doth surmount D. But , my wise world does thee most sottish count , Whose rigid life , thy life hath well nigh spent , And strooke thee dead to pleasure and content . Fl. Nay rather : But what rage of slavish sinne Does vexe and much perplex all those , within , Which thirst so after worlds Wormewood and Gall ? And following him , doe on lifes shipwracke fall , Enduring ( thus ) much mischiefe , and the power Of impious tyranny , soules to devoure . D. What 's this ? who made thee such a Preacher , pray ? Fl. She , which me governs and whom I obey . Di. A wretched service 't is to be regarded , Where a sharpe-life is for full-pay rewarded . Fl. Nay rather , hee 's to foolish bondage bent , Which serves the wrangling-Divell , nere content . Di. Is 't possible thou should'st thus saucie be ? I 'll plague this-pride with all extremity . Fl. Your threatnings great doe little me affright , I need not feare the Divels fraud or might ; Having the Lord farre stronger on my part . I know ther 's nothing sweeter to thy heart Than , at thy pleasure , me to make to sin , And having sinn'd , mine overthrow to win ; But , now at last I have resolv'd to leave Thy slavish yoake , which did me long bereave Of my best liberty ; for , now I see How many sinnes , so many Divels in me : And , that unlesse I these from me expell , The others will within me lurke and dwell . But , thou hast surely lost a Mayd of me ; And , blest be heaven , whose grace hath set me free . The flesh , well rul'd , is servant to the soule , If this doe rule , the other 's in controule . Wo. Intollerable is thine insolence , To heare thee longer , I want patience . Fl. And , want it still , who cares for that , I pray ? Wo. Thou shouldst ( I think ) give , to thy elder , way . Fl. My elder , that thou art , indeed , I grant , Not better , whiles th' art Sathans stiffe servant . Wo. Why ? what hadst thou been ( prethee ) without mee ? Fl. Nay , but for me , what had become of thee ? Wo. The World , I ( surely ) evermore had bin . Fl. Nay , rather , a wilde Desert , empty , thin . For , what 's the world ? if men do it not furnish , And , what is man ? if flesh do him not garnish . Di. Thou arguest wittily ; But , yet , I say , The world begirts and hems thee every way . Fl. But , were not flesh , in being , presuppos'd , It could not be begirt and so enclos'd . Di. Well , well , forbeare , I can no longer beare thee : Or hold thy peace , or I 'll no longer heare thee . But , if thou ( thus ) me crosse and contradict , I 'll on thee ( soone ) my utmost rage inflict . Fl. Thou canst not hurt one-haire upon my head Vnlesse my Maker hath so ordered . Meane-while , I 'll heare what exhortation fine Thou giv'st the World to act all thy designe . Di. I 'll let thee heare , if so thou wilt conceale it . Fl. Nay , whatsoere I heare , I 'll ( sure ) reveale it . Lest , others , which thy counsels do not know , Through ignorance , themselves do overthrow . Di. Thou treacherous slut , go on ( then ) do thy worst , If , thou forsake me , I have others nurs't , And nuzled-up , and those of thine owne kinne , And neere acquaintance , who have ever binne My farre more constant active instruments , Clinging close to me with their full consents . Fl. I doubt it not ; But , O that it might be , That , them , by grace , I throughly clens'd could see ! Then , they , with me , would quickly thee forsake , And , faithfully , their soules their soveraignes make . Di. Come thou to me ( my World ) lend thou thine eare Thou , all my crafts & counsels ( now ) shalt heare . Wo. Speak on ( great Sir ) thy world is stil and mute , bold , To heare thy hests , and then to execute . Di. Brave World , my most renowned Champion By whom , I most of my large Empire hold ; Whom , whither I may praise for readinesse To my commands ; or for selfe-nimblenesse , In thy inchanting Arts ; I know not well ; So bravely thou , in both , dost beare the bell . Meane-while , what may I thee most fitly name ? A theatre full of contentions flame . Where all do act their parts , contend and strive , But very few , with victorie , do thrive . Thou hast circensean-games , those pristine sports , Which have beene exercis'd in Romes rare Courts ; And those , most exquisitely ready made , Where , each may his affected course invade ; Where thou shalt finde a Miscellanie strange , All of all sorts in their base courses range . There , first and worst of all , thou maist behold The avaricious , greedy after gold , Who want , as well , the wealth already got , As , that , they tugge and toyle for , and have not . Who ride and run , and sweat and sweare , and lye , By right or wrong , by force of fallacie , To gather heaps of wealth , and hoorded gaine , In using which , as hopelesse , and as vaine , As if they never had them in their hands : In which respect , here , all the difference stands Twixt greedy havers , and those , nothing-having That , these , in wanting ; those themselues depraving Of use of what they have , their state do show . Either , things wanted , they do covet , so , That , they may have them ; or , things ( now ) enjoy'd , They feare to loose , or , lest they be destroy'd . They , filthy gaine before plaine losse esteeme , And wealth got any way , they pleasant deeme . All nets and snares , all gins and grins they lay To compasse coyne , and make a gainfull prey . If profit but peep out with halfe an eye , Then are they tickled , netled , eagerly ; They itch to be made rich , and flie to gaine , They Grace neglect , which makes me laugh amaine . They sing with franticks , and with fooles they run T' a painted paire of stocks , where th' are undone . For , what else do they , but make their owne snares Whiles hoording gold , they heape up galling cares ? Who knows not how that Achans wedge of gold , And Dagons house , them to destruction sold ? Yet , with such subtill shifts I use to hide And cloake and palliate their poysonous-side , That , not least glimpse of my-sly-worke appeares , Nor of their owne-salvations-losse , least feares . And , how ( indeed ) should they or feare or flie , The danger , which they cannot finde or spie ? Riches are got with toyle , are kept with care , With envy and distrust encreased are ; At last , with gripes of conscience , griefe of heart , Or , they from us , or we from them must part : Yet , these , the vicious Avaricious-man Idolatrously love , yea worship can ; And in his heart to them a Church erects : For , that , man worships , which he most affects . They , then , that prize gold more than God above , Their goods as gods ; land , as their Lord , they love . Next , my brave World , within thy compasse wide The puft-Ambitious round about do ride ; And , these are alwayes fowlers for high honours On highest turrets to erect their banners . And , for this end , sleepe from their eyes they banish , And from their minds sweet rest & peace doth vanish . Proudly they perk aloft , unsafely sit , Headlong they tumble , when their barke is split . Wherein , they , me their Prince ( right ) personate , Who , higher raisde , fell more precipitate . Briefly , here , in thy courts take their carreire Voluptuous-wantons , who no colour feare , Who , for a little posting-shade of pleasure Hazard salvation , soules eternall treasure . Here also run the Wrathfull fretfull Rout , Who swell and swagger , rage and rave about , Who , Salamander-like , live best in fire Whose gratefull works answer my great desire . For , if Peace-makers be Gods sonnes esteem'd ; Then ( sure ) peace-breakers must my sons be deem'd . Here , run the rabble of hels Envious elves , Who pine at others , but most pinch themselues . Who are much vexed at their neighbours joy , And no lesse jocond at their great annoy . Whose base and most malicious inclination , Is unto me of passing acceptation . Here , finally , are sottish-Sluggish-ones , Who passe their lives like lifelesse lazie-drones . All these do ramble in thy circle round , By whom our treasurie most rich is found . For , as Saints souls are Gods best treasures deem'd ; So , I their spoile have my best sport esteem'd . Then , buckle to thy businesse , play thy part , Now let me see thine active , expert heart . I may suggest foule facts unto the thought , Thou must them urge , & see them throughly wrought . But , if thou long , our Empire to enlarge , Thou must most chiefly execute this charge : Namely , ith'first place , to remove or stay , Occasions , tending to good , any way . Thou , many-men ( I thinke and hope ) shalt finde , To let alone forbidden-things enclinde , More out of shame or feare , than for good-will ; This shame , thou from their minds , must push-off still That , neither sense nor shamefac'dnesse therein May curbe or keepe them backe from any sinne . This , if thou dost , as easily thou mayst , If thou flinch not , nor from my counsell stray'st , That goodly troope , and traine of seeming-Saints , Shall , bare and blinde and snar'd in sins constraints , Run●e after thee , and thou with cords of vice , Shalt them to dance after thy pipe , entice ; And draw them up and downe from sinne to sinne ; From one lust to another , them to winne : And , thus , they , tyr'd and myr'd with sins , at length , Shall passe before their driver , voyd of strength . Meanewhile , my selfe , will nothing intermit , Which may my thrones enlargement fully fit , And , if thou shew thy selfe my servant true , I 'll pay thy worke the wages just and due . I ( as thou know'st right well ) will exercise , That expert art , practis'd by hunters wise , Who hunt in garments greene like groves and woods , Wherby the Deere , which 'bout the mountains scuds , They , at more leasure with more pleasure may Deceive , of life bereave and beareaway . Iust so , will I , most nimbly play my part , Now , here : now , there : I up and downe will start ; Sometime a lambe , sometime a lyon stout , Sometime thick-darknesse ; then I 'll light bring out : And so to severall times , conditions , places , I 'll put on most fit various tempting-faces . For , to deceived men mourning , I 'll be sad , To cheat the cheerfull , I 'll be merry-mad : To gull the godly ( if so be I might ) I 'll be transform'd 'nto an Angel bright : To sting the strong , I 'll seeme a lambe most milde , To murther meeke-ones , ravening wolfe most wilde . Yea , oft , I openly rage , lyon-like , Oft , with the dragon , secretly I strike . By these means ( though , somtimes a strong knit band May our temptations happily withstand ) Yet , ther 's no doubt , but ( at the last ) we shall Vpon an happie hoped issue fall . For , no man ( alwayes ) lives so cautelous But may , sometime , ensnared be by us ; So he upon thy pleasing baits do rest , And my most various pills do well digest . For why ? much difference must be in th' essayes , To crosse the craft of all my cheating wayes : To beare the frequent , yea continuall blows Of him , whose subtill nature plainly shows His genuine-cunning and sly policie , Got , by hid malice and antiquitie . For , since the time that I from heaven fell , I fell a vexing those whom God loves well : Even his deare sonnes : And , never ( yet ) did cease My hatred 'gainst that creature to encrease Till I had utterly undone , destroy'd His precious soule , with me , to be annoy'd : That creatures soule ( I say ) which God did make His master-piece and image blest to take , That he might also , at the last , possesse That heavenly glory , matchlesse blessednesse , Which I through mine owne pride most justly lost , And , ever since , hath me most dearely cost . Fl. O , how most plainly hast thou shown thy selfe To be the devill ( indeed ) a damned-else . But , all thy snares and gins are laid in vaine So long as I do none of thine remaine : Whom onely , thou dost greedily affect , Whom wholly thou wouldst impiously infect . For , whom , indeed , can all thy snares allure ? If , he , relying on my counsell sure , Refuse thy cheating counsell to obay ; T is mine-owne simple softnesse that makes way For all thy jugling tricks ; I say , t is I That fit Voluptuous-lust for Venerie . The Avaritious for accursed gaine ; Th' Ambitious for his swelling loftie-straine , The Envious for his most malitious heart : The Wrathfull how to act his raging-part . The Gluttonous for his lust-breeding-cates . The Slothfull , who for sleepe and slumber waits . Then , what needs all thy supersilious boast ? Thou canst but tempt , and try , and move , at most , For , then , if I resist , refuse , withstand , Thou dost but cast thy seed upon the sand . They , then , which truly are discreet and wise ( And , herein , I ingenuously agnize , I speake against my selfe ) O let them ever Curb my indulgent nature , nuzle it never ; O let them ( alwayes ) use all rigidnesse 'Gainst me , their Flesh , which work mine own distresse Let them delight to exercise on me , What ere may crosse me most , most irksome be . But , as for pleasing-things , which me affect , O let them quickly , wholly , them reject ▪ Which wholesome counsell if they timely take , They shall , not onely , thy hopes frustrate make , And put thee , their arch-enemie to flight , But , having with victorious sweet delight Finisht the battell , got the conquest brave , At last , a Crowne of glory they shall have Di. Thou filthy queane ; why dost thou thy selfe show Our most nefarious , most perniciou● foe ? Fle. Because that He alone that me created , Thus , to Himselfe ( by grace ) me regulated : When , to my lust I full allowance gave , I was thy servant and thy wretched slave , But , once recal'd and freed from that estate , By holy abstinence made moderate , I learn'd my God , whom best I ought , to serue ; From thee , whom first I followed , thus to swerne . Di. And what ? wilt thou , my World , forsake me too ? Wo. I must forsake thee ; what else shall I do ? For , if the Flesh forsake me , what am I ? On whom my state hath its dependancie . Di. Nay , do not so : rather our darts let 's cast , And force her to our beck and check at last . Fl. He which may forced be , knows not to dye ; But , I have learn't t' embrace Death readily : And , dye I will to sinne , thee to destroy , And bid farewell to th' world and worldly-joy . Wo. If thou bid me fare-well , I ill shall grow , Forsake not me , for I with thee will go . Di. Then farewell both , for Hell 's my onely due , Thither I go , from whence I came to you : Meane-while ; let all know this , that boldly sinne And grieve not at it ; they have hell , within ; A hellish-conscience lodging in their brest , And I have slaves and whips the same t' infest . An end of the second Dialogue .
The Third DIALOGUE . Betweene Man and his Conscience . The Argument of the third Dialogue . Man and his Conscience altercate About the Soules and Bodies state . Man ( here ) complaines of much unrest , That Conscience does him sore molest . Conscience , as much , of Man complains , That his ill-doings her constraines To testifie against him still , 'Cause he resists his Makers will . Where , by the way , Conscience displayes Sweet rules for ordering all his wayes ; And , to them both , true peace to winne , Finding the cause of all in Sinne. Man . WHy , O my Conscience dost thou so perplex me ? Why dost thou so much gripe and grinde and vex me ? Wilt thou , mine inmate , whom I entertaine , Tell tales of me , and 'gainst me ( thus ) complaine ? Con. The charge , which I receiv'd to keep in trust , Alive I looke to : Dead , returne I must . Ma. Alas , poore conscience , if I ruin'd be , I prethee what will ( then ) become of thee ? Con. How-ere thou fare , I 'll beare thee company , And the same smart we 'll suffer mutually . Alive or dead , I will thee not forsake , If thou live well thou wilt me happie make : If thou live ill I shall both figh and groane , And all my griefes and wrongs I will make knowne . For or against thee , I must witnesse beare : A thousand armies ( hence ) cannot me feare . And , this , I know , that though Revenge come late , Yet , t is most sure , and layes-on heavy waight . Ma. Wretch that I am , I ( then ) am quite undone , What shall I do ? O whither shall I run ? Con. Run ? what ? to hide thee ? Ah , there 's no place left , I am of all retyring-holes bereft : Though thou couldst creepe into earths intrals low , Earth , no safe shelter could on thee bestow . If thou more swift than Easterne-winde couldst flie , Thou couldst not scape my fierce velocity . As swift as thought , I , th' ayre can penetrate , And , nothing can my course procrastinate : But , I would follow , yea pursue thee so , That I would still , in thine owne footsteps go . " Then , say not thou , there 's none can me espie , " None can me heare , fast shut is eare and eye . " Who can me view , since darknesse me doth hide , " Since strong stone-wals close me on every side . " Since none can see me , whom I need to feare , " Tus● , God , my faults does not in mem'ry beare . Vaine , most profane are all such thoughts as these , Shall not the eyes-creator see with ease ? And shall not he that made the eare , soone heare ? Or , He that plants the heart , know all things cleare ? All things to his Omniscience naked are ; Fly from the field to th' towne with frighted care , Out of the street into thy house make haste , Thence , though thou be in thy bed-chamber plac'd , Yet , know , that I , by thy Creators will , Within thee rest , and am thy witnesse still . Whom , if thou with an evill-eye behold , To use those words , to me , thou wilt be bold , Of Ahab to Elias ( impiously ) What ? hast thou found me , O mine enemie And , I , most readily shall answer thee , I have thee found , and must against thee be , 'Cause , thou hast sold thy selfe to worke what 's i●● Before the Lord , which does thy guilt fulfill . Behold ( therefore ) I now against thee rise , And bring upon thee purchas'd miseries . Ma. Alas , I then perceive , our foule offences Are most unsafe , though daub'd with faire pretences . Con. What though they could be safe in their commission , If , yet , they bring thee to unsure condition ? Or , what good comes to sinners by being hid , If , guilt , to hope so , long , does them forbid ? Ma. Enforme me ( then ) good Conscience how I may Make thee , my gladsome witnesse , in me stay . Con. The best and briefest counsell I can give , Is , thee t' advise , a holy-life to live ; A life inculpable of crying-crimes , Vnspotted with the evils of the times ; A life declaring power of godlinesse , A life that heavenly graces doth expresse . By dying to all lusts and foule desires , By doing all good-deeds that love requires . By giving freely , what to each belongs , Forgiving , friendly , all received wrongs . Not coveting what is anothers right , To do , as thou 'dst be done by , with delight . By shunning that which makes the soule to dye , Chusing what makes it live eternally . Ma. These are hard tasks and bitter lessons , sure , And , such , as flesh and bloud cannot endure . Con. O , but it will be farre more harsh and hard , T' endure the worme of Conscience and be barr'd And shut out from the Beatifick-sight Of Gods all-cheering face and beauty bright . Which paine of losse , doth doubtlesse farre excell , All other the most horrid paines of hell ; Namely to be , both , torne and tortur'd , there , To be distracted and distrest with feare , Where , neither , the tormentors tyred be , Nor , those tormented ( ever ) death can see . Ma. Alas , that Death 's most dire and tart , indeed , Ah , shew me how I may from it be freed . Con. The onely-way is to the world to dye , Before thy soule out of this world doth flye . Ma. What ? must this spacious , specious , Aedifice Adorn'd with rarities of precious price , Full of so many various , curious pleasures The onely magazine of so much treasures , Must this , I say , be vilipended so ? Must I this world , so rare , so faire , forgo ? Con. Vndoubtedly , if thou in these delight , With deadly danger they thy soule will smite . For , look , how much the flesh this world affects And the false-seeming-sweets thereof respects ; So much the more the soule will be perplext , And , with the fire of hell be plagu'd and vext : On th' other side , How much the flesh is tam'd , So much the soule with heavenly hope is flam'd . Ma. But yet , we see , all men do still desire The present-state , t is this they most require . Con. But yet , I know , t is far the worst condition , T' enjoy things-present in a full fruition ; But , therewithall , to be quite stript and bare , Of future-comforts to have part or share . O , t is most sweet , onely the world to use : But , God alone t' enjoy , and chiefe to chuse ! Thou hast not in this world a fixed station , Nor , here , must ( ever ) have thy habitation : Who , then , can sing his Song in a strange-land ? Who would build Castles on the sinking-sand ? Alas , we ( here ) our selves should so behave , That , when the wormes did eate our corps in grave , Our soules , in heaven , triumphantly might sing , With quires of Saints and Angels to heav'ns King . Thither our spirit ever should ascend , Whither we do propound our journies-end . Thither we should make speedy haste , yea flie , Where we shall ever live , and nere-more die . Dost thou pure gold , nere to be spent , desire ? Eternall-life , which , never ends , require . The land of Havilah , in Paradise , Hath in it , store of gold of precious price . T is Earth thou bear'st , that , thou must leave behinde , T is earth thou tear'st , that , thou must nere-more mind But , t is a land thou seek'st , and would'st receive , That is the land which thou shalt never leave . Men , rather , are Gods Stewards , than Treasurers , Riches ( therefore ) upon them He conferres . What ( then ) we reape , we piously should sowe And liberally and lovingly bestow . That , this true faith and due obedience , Might be repayd with heav'nly recompence . The things we give are small and not our owne ; Those we shall have are great ▪ and from Gods throne ▪ M●n , whose affections are celestiall , Are justly stil'd Angels terrestriall ; And , no man shall ( hereafter ) God possesse , In whom , God dwels not ( here ) by holinesse . If Sathan , Prince of earth , hath thy least part , God , King of heav'n , will not dwell in thy heart . The spirit of evill ( then ) cast out , disdaine , That so thou mayst Gods Spirit entertaine . Remember , whence thou cam'st , thine offspring base , And , this will make thee blush and hide thy face ; Consider , where thou art , and sigh for wo , And , quake , to thinke , whither , thou ( once ) must go . Ma. All are ( I know ) made of one Potters clay , And , must resolve into the same , one day . Con. Then , every man , being mould , must into earth , Moulder away , whence , first , he took his birth . Ma. Nothing 's more true . Con. And , Flesh is but a froth Cloth'd with fraile beauty , a meere menstruous cloth . Man . T is even so , I can it not denie . Con. Why ( then ) dost thou so fat and beautifie That Flesh of thine , which after a short while Must be devour'd , in grave , by wormes most vile . But , as for thy poore soule , thou let'st it pine , Nor , dost with good works make it faire and fine . Which , thus , to God and 's Angels thou shouldst show Thou dost not ( sure ) the price of thy soule know . Man . Yes , very well . Con. I feare the contrarie ; For , else , thou wouldst not it so vilifie . Know , this , O Man , know this , I say to thee ▪ The losse of one soule , greater losse to be , Than of a thousand bodies : for , t is plaine , Bodies may be reviv'd , that have bin slaine : But , O , the soule which once by sinne is dead , Can never be to life recovered , But by a miracle , Christs bloud apply'd , Which cannot be , where it is still deny'd . O , then , behold , and blush to see thy sloth , Or , rather , sinfull sottishnesse , or both : In ( thus ) preferring barke before the tree : Shels 'fore the kernels , flesh 'fore the soule in me . Not onely blush at this , but sigh and groane Whiles thou considerest how th' art left alone , Here , in a region full of enemies , Ready and greedy the● for to surprise , Where are domesticke-traytors worst of all , Where Death is in the pot to worke thy fall . And , where thy foe stands ready , thee to catch , And thou hadst need to stand upon thy watch . And , here and there to cast a carefull eye , And , every where all dangers to descrie . Not onely , blush and sigh , but quake with woe , When thou remembrest whither thou must go : Namely , into a land most darke and drie , A lake that burnes with brimstone furiously , A place of punishment and tortures great , Where hideous horrour hath eternall seat : Where is no order , but confusion strange , Where errour , terrour fiercely raigne and range . Ma. Is there no hopefull nor no helpfull place ? Con. No , none at all . Where God is not by grace , There he is present by revengefull power , The wicked , like dry stubble , to devoure . For , if , thou hast not God , thy Father kinde , A wrathfull judge thou wilt him , surely , finde . But , if thou long and labour to avoyde Gods vengeance , let thy pains be all employde , In walking in the wayes of Gods commands , Wherein ( indeed ) a Christians beauty stands . Which is the mirrour or best looking-glasse , Where all may see the paths they ought to passe ▪ Which is the summe of our Religions state , His image , whom we serue , to imitate . Christs lovely-lover , is his lively-picture , As he is figur'd in the holy Scripture . He beares a Christians badge and title true , Which , him , a Christian , by his deeds doth shew . For , t is but halfe-enough to bud and blow , Vnlesse in good works , we , full-ripe do grow . He lives but badly , which don't well beleeve , Faith , with unfruitfull lives , does but deceive . True faith will not be clos'd , but will breake out , If , life be in the tree , fruit forth will sprout : So , if , firme faith hath in the heart due place , It will shine forth in vertues sparkling grace . For , wherefore is Mans body said to die ? Because the soule does thence expire and slie : So , how else is it that the soule is dead ? But , because faith is not there harboured . Thy Soules life ( therefore ) is thy faith sincere ; And Faiths-life ( best ) by good works doth appeare . Man . Alas , this being so , what is my case ? Having bin such a stranger to true grace . Con. Sure , all the while that Grace hath in thee ceast , Thou hast not bin a man , but a meere beast . For , without knowledge of our God , indeed , All men are like bruit beasts in fields that feed . Man . This I confesse , therefore I pray thee show Which way I may God and my selfe well know ? Con. In Holy-Writ , thou shalt the right-way finde , Into what Paths thy foot must be enclin'd . There is the light , which will the way direct , There is the life , which thou must best affect . Man . But yet whiles thou , within me art offended , All holy duties by me best intended , Are tedious and most troublesome to me , Nothing , well done ( as I desire ) I see . Every thing clouded is with discontent , Vnsweet , unsavory , lumpish , negligent ; I therefore first , and most desire to see , A reconcilement made 'twixt thee and mee , That so more freely and more fruitfully I may performe all acts of piety . Con. Would'st thou , indeed , have me full pacifi'de ? Thou ( then ) must please me , or else I shall chide , For , whatsoere against me is committed , Is but a building unto hell-fire fitted . If therefore , either feare of punishment , Or , hope of high reward to full content , Can win thee ought and wooe thee to be wise If quietnesse of minde , a precious prize , If peace of conscience , a continuall feast , Which every good man strives to have encreast , May thee incite , then doe not me provoke , Nor , with the grins of sins thy selfe fast yoake . The Sea my Nature doth most aptly show Whereon , if any filthy foame doth flow , Any dead karkasses or slimy-weeds , ●t , into furious boylings , soone proceeds , It rages , rumbles , tumbles , all about And is not quiet , till it quite throw out Those filthy scums upon the bankes and shore , Of which it seem'd to labour much before ; That , thus , it eas'd of that superfluous stuffe . Might calmed be and cease to be so rough : ●o , I my selfe , thy conscience , use to swell , To boyle and toyle , to rise and rage ; untill The lees and dregges , the least Remaines of sinne ▪ Be utterly expelled from within . For , nothing does me so much presse , oppresse , As , wilfully-committed-wickednesse ; With whose intollerable burthen prest , Till eas'd thereof , I can enjoy no rest . ● , would'st thou , therefore ever merry be , Would'st thou , continually , me cheerefully see , ● then 't is thy part , timely , with due zeale , My soares ( thy sinnes ) with Penitence to heale . ●or , looke , how-much man sees and knowes his sinne , The more to grone and grieve he does begin ; ●nd , true repentant-teares are Angells-wine , With these , the soule being washt , in heav'n wil shine , Dost thou desire ( then ) to be never sad ? T is a good-conscience , that makes ever glad . Man . Alas , I knew all these , before you spake , But , never yet , right use of them did make . Con. Vnprofitable is that science , sure , Which , comfort to the conscience don't procure . Indeed there is much-science every where , But , little-conscience does abroad appeare . What good will science or great knowledge doe ? If conscience be uncleane , obscene , in you . Thou shalt not be , at Gods last dreadfull day , Arraigned by the Booke of science gay ; But , by the booke of conscience , every-one Shall answer , at the Lords tribunall throne . Such ( then ) as , at that great day , thou wouldst be , Such , let the Lord ( now , in this life ) thee see . Conscience , is a voluminous great-Booke , Whereinto , whosoere doth please to looke , Shall find all writ i th stile of verity , And with the pen of doubtlesse certainty . And , thence ( i th day of judgement ) wil be sought , Not , how much hast thou read , but how much wrough● Not , how well hast thou spoke , what good words given ▪ But , to live well , how hast thou car'd and striven ? Man . O! Woe is me ; if this ( alas ) be so , What I shall say or doe , I doe not know . I see and have seene , shamefull-things , and yet , I have not bin asham'd or blusht at it . I find and feele things bitter and most tart , Yet , have not ( as I ought ) bin griev'd at heart . Con. I , this is it ( indeed ) that makes me sad ; For , t is thy only griefe that makes me glad . For , by how much the more , thou sencelesse art ; So much the more I sigh and sob and smart : Thy teares are healing-tents to cure my woe , Which , if they from within doe gush and flow , Sins-pardon , life , unto thy soule thou gain'st , And , peace of conscience , inwardly obtayn'st . For , evils-past , hurt not , if not affected , But , if sins shame be in this life neglected , The future thought thereof will worke much blame , And , thou wilt grieve for want of former shame . Man . But yet , this one thing ▪ I would gladly know , Wherefore thou dost distract , distresse me so ? For , if thy prickes did me not waking keepe , ● might , a nights , more sound and sweetly sleepe . Thou being quiet none would me molest , Nor , with such turmoyles my fayre peace infest . Con. I told you at the first , and t is most true ; He that made you , made me a mate for you , Yea , your in-mate and fellow up and downe , ●o vex you , or with comfort you to crowne . Now , marke this well ; a sinners sleepe and rest , Can never pleasant be , to him , at best . For , all the naps Man takes not in the Lord , Nought else but evill doe to him afford . Thinke not ( therefore ) thy selfe secure to be , Although thou dost no open witnesse see ; For , when a Body in a sunshine-day Is seene without a shadow ; then , I say , And not till then , a mans soule may be found Vnto no Conscience-testimony bound . But , why dost thou still lay the blame on me , Of all thy trouble and anxietie ? Behold , the spightfull sp'rite , to us , drawes nigh , That brings upon us-both our miserie . Man . Alas , what is it , where is it , I pray ? Con. Thou shalt it see anon ; but now give way , And in those bushes hide thy selfe a while . For , ever since sinne did thee ( first ) beguile , Thou cunningly knewst how thy selfe to hide In shadie shrubs , thy nakednesse being ey'd : Which nakednesse being seene to thy disgrace , Thou guiltily didst flie from Gods blest face . Man . O that 's too true ; I thinke on 't ( now ) with woe ; But , I 'll forbeare , since thou wilt have it so : Goe to that Witch , I pray , whiles I , a space , Doe up and downe this Thicket walke and trace . The end of the third Dialogue .
The Fourth D●ALOGUE . Betweene Conscience , Sinne , and Man . The Argument of the fourth Dialogue . Here Conscience does encounter Sinne , 'Twixt whom , hot bickerings doe begin . For , tender Conscience eas'ly spies Sins Wiles and Guiles and Fallacies . Sin , also boldly , by the way , Her Soule-bane Baits does full display ; And faine therewith would conscience catch , But Conscience wisely doth her watch . Man , to his Conscience comes at last , And all due blame on Sinne doth cast . Resolving , Sin , ( now ) to detest , So , He and Conscience sweetly rest . Con. WHat ? Sin ? Ill-met ; whither so fast do'st go ? Sin . To meet thee still , whether thou wilt or no. Con. I thinke no lesse indeed ▪ else thou would'st not So pertly and apertly plod and trot . But , be assur'd thou shalt as welcome be To me and my house , when ere I thee see , As water to a ship , clowds at a Feast , Which ( then ) intrude , when they are look't for least . Sin . Yet , who is he , that me not much esteemes ? Or , me unworthy his acquaintance deemes ? Con. Yet , herein thou thy selfe most plainly show's● A subtill Syrene , wheresoere thou go'st . For , with thy most nefarious inchantations Thy cheating charmes and slye insinuations Thou never ceasest to bewitch , abuse , All that this worlds vast Sea to sayle doe use . Sin . The fault 's their own ; why do they not forbeare me ? And stop their eares & then they need not heare me ? Con. O that they would , how happy were they then ▪ But , O , thou hast a hooke , wherewith , poore men , Poore carelesse men ( thy wiles that have not watcht , Nibling the Bait ) are couzned ( so ) and catcht . For , to the proud and supercilious breast , Thou , high and huge and hard things dost suggest . Perswading them inferiours to disdaine , And , at great meetings for prime-place to straine To scorne the company of meane and poore , Whereas indeed the gaine would be farre more Vnto their credit so to use inferiours , As they would used be by their superiours . So , when thou dost the avaricious finde , With quenchlesse-thirst of gold thou fir'st their minde . Who , still the more they have , doe crave the more , And , Tantalize in midst of copious store . Tyred all day , with toyle ; all night with care ; And ( whereby they most miserable are ) The lesse they need , the more they covet still . Now , every sinne ( chiefly this ancient-ill Of avarice ) is harder farre to cure , In old-men , than it is in young-men , sure ; Which is most strange ; since old-men neer their grave , In that respect , should , mindes more holy have . If thou ( againe ) meet with voluptuous mates , Thou , ready hast for them , most pleasant baits , Faire Ivory-beds , richly embroydered , Whereon , themselves , at ease , to stretch and spred , Adorn'd with flowers , perfum'd with odours sweet , ' Tindulge their lewd and lustfull bodies meet . Faire-fac'd Companions , drencht in deeds unchaste , Places and Playes , idly their houres to waste . Finally , all in one word to conclude , Thou , evermore , mens mindes dost vexe , delude With choyce of cheating-tricks , new fopperies , And , either having quite put-out their eyes , Or , with full-sight dost them so much bewitch , That , headlong , they fall in thy deadly-ditch . Sin . Why ? what a stirre is here ? why brand you me With this blacke-coale of odious-treacherie ? Con. Dost aske me why ? 'cause thou deservest worst Of all men living , of me , most and first . Whom , day by day , thou dost so plague and paine , As if those punishments which Poets faine To be upon some men impos'd , inflicted , Who , in their lives had been to lust addicted , To cruelty , beastiall licenciousnesse ; Were exercis'd on me ; with such distresse , And deepe distraction , am I daily drencht , With such great gripes , I , inwardly am pincht , That all my paines seeme Hornet-stings or bites Or Sathans Buffets , when to hell he smites . And , which is most and worst , no helpe I finde , So long as thou art in my sight and minde , Sin . These peevish Whinnels , ever , wretched are ; But , many , much more wretchedl● doe fare , Than need requires , complaining causelesly . But , I , even-now , observ'd thee testifie , And ' against me urge that I deserved worst Of all men , but of conscience most and first . Tell me , I pray , who , me , first Being , gave ? Was it not Adam that made all men have By one-incessant-line , right to damnation ? For , all in Adam , sinning , lost salvation . I , surely , mine owne maker could not be ; He was my Maker , who , as soone as hee Was sensible of thee , flew from Gods face To hide him 'mongst the trees in conscious-case . Flew to the tree ( I say ) whose bitter fruit Had he ( herein , than any beast , more brute ) Ne're tasted ; he had not offensive bin , And , so had nere begotten Me , call'd Sinne. Why dost thou ( then ) so much of me exclame ? 'T is man alone , is worthy all the blame . 'T is he alone that digged his owne pit , And , by selfe-folly , so fell into it . He waxed proud and saucily desired , To be like God , to be a God , aspired ; But , thereby , he most like the Divell became , Hence flow thy teares , this did mans mischiefe frame . Con. Oh I confesse it . Sin or Sathan either , Than this , thou say'st , spake nothing truelier ever . But yet I cannot choose , but much admire , How thy incessant toyle does thee not tyre . Sin . Pish. That which pleaseth , never tyreth any . And herein , I finde instigations many . Hatred of good , love and delight in ill , The depravation of mans first free-will . These are the Chariot-wheeles on which I roule And range about t' effect my fancie-foule . My Waggoner is waggish-Vanity , Which drives my Horses ( lusts ) most furiously . Hence I , so indefatigable , rest , Being of most various-pleasures ( still ) possest If , proudly , I to prance abroad affect , With rich and rare apparell I am deckt . Which , of the newest fashion must be made , Whereby beholders eyes on me are stayd , With gazing admiration , and thus , I , Admire my selfe , as much as passers-by , If , I my flesh to pamper doe delight , My Table ready furnisht is in sight , With luscious cates and delicates most deare , With all choice rarities that make good cheere . If I be farre from Sea , I Fish affect , If neere the Sea , I Flesh doe most respect . There 's nothing new , but I long for it , have it , Nothing so costly , but my lust doth crave it . If , I a Dancing-match or Play would see , Thither I haste , where thickest clusters be . Nor can the Mimicke-Actors give content , Nor fond Spectatours be to pleasure bent If I be absent : For , in publike meetings Where I see vanity use pleasing greetings , There I am quickly present , there I finde Not any , but is prest to please my minde , My pleasant presence yeeldeth such delight , That all things are most joviall in my sight . Con. Hence I collect , that sins most prompt intention Is exercis'd in Actions of Invention . Sin . You hit the very white . For , sinne is ever Pregnant and active , and is idle never ; But , one thing from another ( still ) begets , And , so an edge upon her Lovers whets . Con. Nay rather , sinne makes them the more secure , Security does them to sloth enure . Sin . What if it doe ? with this soft lethargie Whiles I doe mine , thus , cocker cunningly , I tye them closelier to me , every day , They are my shades and follow me , each way . They are my Souldiers and will for me fight , They , as good servants , serve me with delight . And , so much they expresse to me their love , And their firme stedf●stnesse to me approve , That , like good Citizens , they readily Will lose their liues to prop my liberty : Nor thinke they any toyle too much , they take To shew themselves obsequious for my sake . For , they which love , or labour not at all , Or , love their labour , or account it small . Con. But , certainly , nothing doth sooner fade And putrifie , than love , thus weakely laid . Since all thy promises so goodly thought , Like snow before the sunne doe come to nought . Nay rather , to the soule that in them joyes , They bring a deadly sting and dire annoyes . Sin . Dost thou not think my promise prevalent ? Con. Yes ; for who ere is thereof confident , Is pressed downe t'eternall-Death , thereby ; For this men finde by most sad certainty , That nought is worse than sinners Happinesse ; That , ther 's no woe , where is no wickednesse . Sin . But , one among a thousand , let me see , That is of this severe conceit with thee . Con. Ah , though I cannot one , 'mongst many , show , Yet , more 's their madnesse and sure overthrow . Sin . This is your censure ; who thinks so beside ? T' enjoy things present , all doe ( best ) abide , And ever have done so . Let them that feare For future and contingent cases care . Better 's one Bird in hand , than two i' th bush , Future uncertainties who'll prize a Rush ? Things present , being pleasant in our sight , Are therefore more desir'd and most delight . Con. Hence 't is ( indeed ) that men so dote and erre , Hence they their Syrene-pleasures so preferre , Because they walke not ( here ) by faith , but sense , Hurryed along with loose improvidence , But , if they did consider seriously This life to be a perpetuity Of sad repentance , since , all vices here , The longer us'd , the stronger doe appeare ; And , what they loose by thus observing thee , And what they get by being from thee free , How little would they joy , how much lament ? How little time of grace would be mis-pent ? With how small pleasure and how slender joy They ( thus ) incurre perpetuall annoy ? " Whereas , if all that ere from Adam came , " And , all of these were Preachers of choice fame , " And , all these Preachers hels least-pains should preach " These all , could not hels least paine fully reach , " Nor can it be imagined or knowne , " What parts from torture : ( there ) will be alone , " And , that no anguish of all temp'rall smart " May to th' eternall woes which pierce the heart " Of damned soules in Hell , compared be . If these , and such like things , men right would see , And seriously consider ; nothing , then , ( O , thou prodigious mischiefe of all men ) Nothing ( I say ) would they account or deeme More foule than thee , nothing more base esteeme . And so would shunne thee , as a snake i'th'way , Or , as a Viper on their hands that lay . Yea , though they knew ( which , then , man does not know That , God , for such a sinne , would mercy show , Yet , for sins filth and selfe most odiousnesse , Men would abhorre and hate ( so ) to transgresse . S. Forbeare , I pray , whence gush these great complaints C. Sins curst incroachments are their chiefe constraints ; By whose most impious charmes and flatteries faire , Men , into bruit beasts metamorphiz'd are . Who , doffing their most due humanity , Put on most belluall inconcinnity . For , unto whom , that hath his eyes in 's head , Is it not palpably discovered ? How chastity is hazarded in pleasures ! Humility quite lost in beaps of treasures ! How piety is choakt in worlds-affaires ! How truth , by tatling fals on lying-snares ! How charity , by this worlds bravery , Is froze to death , or turn'd to knavery ! Sin . Tush , tush , these hazards little trouble me . C. Yet , thou , them breed'st , & they my burthens be . Sin . I rather thinke , this thy minds maladie Proceeds from selfe-pusillanimitie . Thou hast ( it seemes ) a stomacke , queazie , sick , On which , each little mote does nauseous-stick : And , that , which others hold a tender sprig , Precisely , thou , count'st , than a Beame , more big . Con. A soft and tender-conscience man must cherish , Not bruise or breake it , and so make it perish . Sin . Well , go-to , then ; If thou so tender be , Why art thou not to my delights , more free ? Con. Because thy pleasures make my heart more sad , Nor , any true content in them is had . Such an apertion , or by-way to joy , Is joyes desertion , high-way to annoy . Such toyes and trifles , best effects of vice , Can't a good-conscience , to thy lure , entice . But , tell me , did'st thou never heare or know , Good conscience price , bad-conscience plague and wo ? Sin . I never knew of eithers price or paine . Con. Now , then , thou shalt , and understand them plaine . Good-conscience is a cabinet of treasure ; An everlasting-feast , full of true-pleasure . Contrariwise , than conscience-naught and bad , A greater plague and paine cannot be had . For , it hath made a finall-separation , Twixt it and peace and constant contentation . For , as , to good-men , goodnesse is rich gaine ; So , wickednesse is wicked-mens dire paine . Sin . This thy precisenesse and austerity , Will never suffer thee live cheerfully . Con. O , farre be it , that any should suppose , Such joy in Sin , as from sweet vertue grows . Whose rich reward is God himselfe , no lesse , Who , vertue gives to those whom He will blesse . In whom , my joy is safe lockt-up and hid , In whose exchange , who ever would me bid The world and all its pleasures in my hand ; Yea , though they were , in number , as sea-sand , Yet , should they not my heart allure to leave , My joy in God , and so my soule deceive . Sin . But yet , for all this , this worlds happinesse ( For , other I know none ) I still professe , Is the most excellent , and much depends On choice of merry-mates and joviall-friends . On hunting after honours , heaping treasures , And , on enjoying various sorts of pleasures . But , these ( belike ) are wholly opposite , To vertues practise and approv'd delight . Con. Thou art mistaken . Vertues are , indeed , True riches ; not base wealth , which earth doth breed . Worlds wealth to serue , is God to disobay . And , though worlds-service does to worldlings , pay Some seeming joy ; yet ( ever more ) Gods Saints Finde it a clog and cause of great complaints . These do it estimate their prime perfection To passe this desert , by Gods Spirits direction . This state of grace , heav'ns glorious place , they count To be neere-kinne , and long to climbe that Mount . The worth of all this world , hels worke they deeme , Earths honours , they , earths tumours do esteeme . But , to performe Gods sacred will and pleasure , They count their souls most high and happy treasure . Sin . What prat'st thou of thy silly Saints to me ? They are not of my fold , nor ere will be . And , their encrease , does decrease my great powers , But , who comes yonder ? a true friend of ours ; My docible young scholler ; Man , no Saint , And , that 's my joy , whom I must ( now ) acquaint With my rare rudiments . For , I suppose , What 's humane ( touching vice ) within him grows . Man . Aye me , of all men living , most forlorne ; I too-too long , in silence , have forborne ; But , now I neither can nor will forbeare . Wilt thou not cease to hunt me every where ? Sin . T is thou that hunts and haunts me to and fro . Ma. I must confesse it : but , for doing so , I now am overwhelm'd with woe and shame , Yet , this my sense of sins most deadly blame , Being the first and firme step to salvation , Makes me find hope of my Regeneration . Sin . How 's that ? this gives me very poore content . Ma. I do confesse ( I say ) with full assent , That I have finn'd , and it was onely I , Not foolish fortune , or my destiny , No , nor the devill , but evill in mine owne brest , I therefore onely 'gainst my selfe protest , And , if I should thee ( O my conscience blame , Or , thinke my sinne from any other came , I , to those dogges might be resembled right , Which ( as divine Plato doth truly write ) Do snap and snarle and bite the rowling stone , Cast at them ; but , regard not whence t was throwne . No rather , now at last , with weeping eyes And wofull heart , against my selfe I rise ; Whom I have made my worst intestine foe , And treacherously ensnar'd my soule in woe . Nor , do I onely 'gainst my selfe thus rise , But , make a serious solemne-vow , likewise , ( Heav'n ratifie the same ) that I will ever , From this time forward , use my best endevour That , thou ( O sinne ) shipwracke of mans salvation Shalt nere , in me , have willing habitation . But , if by force , thou wilt breake in againe , Yet , thou shalt never domineere and raigne . Con. A pious vow , and godly resolution , The Lord will ( surely ) bring to blest conclusion . Ma. I doubt it not , and therefore will persist , And , since I seeme , of two parts to consist , A Soule and Bodie : If the first of these By any smallest sinne , hath least disease , It stings and wrings thee strait , with bitter s●art , O my syntericke , sinne-opposing-part ! I therefore purpose a new course to take ; Whereby , my conscience , I may chearfull make Whereby , my soule I may with grace renourish . And , my internall family may flourish , And , as for thee , my flesh , since thou art apt , To draw in sinne , and be by sinne entrapt ; Yea , Sin , as water , to drinke in , and sucke , ( And , he which addeth sin to sin , doth plucke , And hale his soule to hell , as with a rope ) Thou delicate fine-Philistine , I hope , I shall thee tame , new-mould , and mortifie , Nere let thee rest , till thou , with me , comply , To dye to sinne , till I have runne my race , All this I trust , by power of heavenly grace . Con. Most sweetly thou resolv'st ; O ever may God , by his Spirit , perfect it , I pray . Sin . Well , if thou me forsake , I 'll others finde , Who , will me entertaine , and use more kinde : For , whiles , on earth , there any men remaine , I make no doubt , but I shall rule and raigne . Ma. But , I will frustrate all thy hope in me , If , to my votes , my God propitious be ; Now ( then ) my conscience ; let us both go in , And , since we are thus fairely freed of Sinne , So hatefull to us both , now , mutually , Let us rejoyce with sweet tranquility . An end of the fourth Dialogue .
The fift DIALOGUE . Betweene God and the Soule . The Argument of the fift Dialogue . God ( here ) the Soule most kindly greets , With many sacred sugred sweets ; Even wooes the Soule free-love t' embrace , Assures it of assistant-grace . The sanctified-soule complies , Bewailes her faint infirmities ; Resignes her selfe to Gods dispose , And with his holy-call doth close ; God helps it on , with faire directions And cheeres it on , with sweet affections ▪ The Soule ( thus ) on Gods leasure waits , Till , He , to glory , It translates . God . A Rise , my Love , my Dove , most pure and faire , To come to Me , make haste , thy selfe prepare . Soule . What sacred voyce is this ? blest invitations ? Candy'd with such sweet loving compellations ? G. His , who creating thee , inspir'd thy life , Inspiring it , espons'd thee , as his wife . S. My great Creator , and my glorious King ? G. Yea , thy free-lover , whence , thy good doth spring S. I know thee , O my God , that thou art he , Who , fully , freely , firmly , lovest me : Since , for my sake , thy Sonne , thou hast not spar'd To free me , when to hell I was ensnar'd . G. My Sonne I gave , yea , and mine onely Sonne ; That thou might'st not , for ever , be undone . S And what ( deare God ) shall I repay to thee ? G. Nothing , but love for love , which pleaseth me . S. What heart ( O Lord ) can be so stupifide ? As , by thy love , not to be mollifide ? G. That heart , which hides the favours I bestow . S. Lord , what have I , that did not from thee flow ? G. Returne me thanks ( then ) that thou mayst have more , For , grateful hearts do find my favours store . S. Let my poore prayer ( good God ascend to thee , That thy rich grace , my ( so ) descend on me ; For , by thee onely , 't is , I life retaine , To thee ( then ) wholly , Me I give againe . G. Thou giv'st thy selfe , to me : t is well . But , where Where are the fruits that thou to me dost beare ? S. Alas , O Lord , what fruits can I expresse ? As of my selfe , till thou me till and dresse ? If thou vouchsafe upon my heart , thy field , To sow such seeds as may thee good fruit yeild , Thou must ( O Lord ) by thy blest hand of grace , First , plucke up all my weeds of vices base . G. Thou say'st most true ; But , wilt thou , willingly , Submit thy selfe to graces-husbandrie ? S. O , burne me , bruise me , breake me , heere , O Lord ; So , thou ( hereafter ) mercy dost afford . O , let that hand that form'd me , me reforme . Let it correct , so it to thee conforme . G. Draw neere to me ( then ) and I will thee draw ; And listen to the lessons of my Law . S. Speak ( Lord ) for , I thy hand-mayd do thee heare , And gladly bend my most attentive eare . G. Then , first of all , thou must wel know and see Both , whence thou cam'st ; what th' art ; what thou shalt be . If thou me please , whence ( first ) thou didst proceed , Thou , now art , and shalt be , most blest , indeed . Thou wast , what now thou art not , and 't was I That gave thee , this , thy present-entity . I have thee over others set and plac'd ; And thee with high prerogatives have grac'd . Superiour-things , for joy ; equall , for mates ; Inferiour things , to serue thee in thy straits . S. What canst thou give unto me , for me , more , If , thou , thy selfe dost give , t is all rich store . G. I gave thy selfe , to thee , when thou wast nought , I gave my selfe , to thee , being worse than ought . I have my selfe , for thee , at last , reserved , That thou , in endlesse-blisse might'st be preserved . S. O blessed mysterie of most dimension ! O blessed benefit of large extension ! G. A mysterie it is , wherein ( indeed ) Thou must of three things take especiall heed : 1. The mercie of thy ever-loving Lord ; 2. The merit , which Christs sufferings do affords 3. And the free grace of Gods most holy Spirit , Which , the sweet Gospell cals thee to inherit . 1. My mercie lov'd thee , ere it thee created , And thee from other creatures separated . 2. The merit of my Christ did purchase thee , When , moved , meerly , by his love most free , Thy miserie caus'd him the heavens to leave , And , for thy sake , such wrongs ( here ) to receive . 3. The grace of my good Spirit thee ( then ) did call , When it did preach and teach thee therewithall , It freed thee fully , when thy state it saw , And , from fouls , bodies , dangers did thee draw . S. O , that I were of brinish teares a spring , That I these loves might fully see and sing ! G. Thus , thou hast , briefly , first , seen What thou wast , Vpon thy present state , thine eyes ( next ) cast . See What thou art Which ( thus ) is first defin'd ; The Soule is the plaine image of the Minde ; The minde Gods Image is : But , God's more great Than is the minde , and has ( there ) supreme seat . The Minde ( againe ) is greater than the Soule ; The Soule doth all the Bodies parts controule ▪ And , thus ( O soule ) thy dignity is great , Adorn'd with diverse ornaments complete : ( Even princely priviledges ) which remaine , To make thy lustre of an higher straine . On thee is graven the image of thy Maker , Thou art redeem'd with Christs bloud , and partaker Of all he is ; espous'd by faith , to him , Thy dowrie is his Spirits graces trim ; Invested with his vertuous righteousnesse , And , made , than glorious Angels , little lesse . First ( then ) if any aske , Whose image rare And superscription is this , thou dost weare ? Well mayst thou answer , t is the image right Of supreme Caesar , soveraigne Lord of light . If , yet , they aske thee , how it was defac'd ? Tell them , by rust of sinne , it was disgrac'd . How wast repaired ? By thy Saviours bloud . How wast espous'd ? By faiths-ring pure and good . How is 't endow'd ? with influence of Gods Spirit . How is 't adorn'd ? with flowers of Christs due merit . How is it plac'd and grac'd with dignity ? Even , with blest Angels in their purity . Say , then , good soule , is not this state most blest ? Yes , sure ; unlesse earth has thy joy possest . For , who , except he a ranke traitour be ? Traitour , I say , both unto me and thee , Dares be so bold this image to put out ? Since it is heavenly Caesars , past all doubt . Who shall thy soule make vendible to vice ? Redeem'd , with such a summe ? thou art blouds price . Who shall , thee , such an amiable Bride , Vnto thy heavenly King , in Wedlocke tyde Once dare to violate or lay least staine ? Since , thee , my specious soule , I entertaine . Who shall endevour to eclipse or dim Thy sacred secret inward-light most trim , Glistring most gloriously from heaven on thee ? Since t is the light of my blest Spirit , from me . Who shall , once , dare to crop those fragrant flowers Of vigorous-vertues from our heavenly bowers ? Those precious aromatick-sents of grace ? Since th' are thy beauties , sent from our blest face . Who can divorse thee from those blessed-mates Promis'd my Saints , in their celestiall states ; Yea , set about thee ( here ) still , to defend thee ? Since they are Angel-troops that do befriend thee . Thus hast thou seene thy first and present state : Now , hearken , what condition does thee waite . Namely , if ( here ) thou live a Saint divine , In heaven thou shalt Angelically shine . Be , therefore , ever going , growing ever , Faint not in my paths , and go backward never : But , to stand still is to go backe in grace , For , here 's no medium , or abiding-case . Thou either must go freely forward still Or , certainly , thou wilt go backe to ill . In which thy pious progresse have a care Especially to keepe thy paths most faire , By that most holy grace , Humility ; Which , will thee lead with sweet stability . Prate not of thy proficiencie at all , Or growth in grace , lest pride do make thee fall . For , what soere is done , 's undone againe , If lowlinesse do it not safe sustaine . He , therefore , which does other vertues get , But , does not , with humility , them set , Doth like to one that carries dust i th' winde Whereof , he ( soone ) himselfe doth empty finde . Men , therefore , fitly , call Humility Rare vertues Queene ; death of impiety . Faire Virgins Mirrour ; and the mansion neat , Which the blest Trinity hath made its seat . Nor can that soule be counted poore and bare That shines with beauteous beams of meeknesse rare . For , this knows well to order its owne minde , Which , seldome I in rich and great men finde . And hence it is , that men say , Poverty In good mens mindes doth guard humility . In having which , they are farre richer , sure , Than he which could the whole worlds crowne procure . S. O , my deare Lord , whereof should I be proud ? Whose nature yeelds not ought by thee allow'd . In many things , I my deficience know ; In nothing I can least sufficience show . G. Be of good courage ( soule ) for , usually , He that most feares his owne sufficiencie , Best fares in piety . For , how should he Desire supply , which no defect doth see ? Mine onely grace which is sufficient still Is most pure Balsum , which from me does thrill . And it requires a vessell pure and sound , And , in such , onely , will be sweetly found . I 'll ( therefore ) clense the cisterne of thy heart , And then the Balsum of my grace impart ; Yea , I will leade thee to yet higher things , To yet more fluent and more pleasant springs , Put forth thy hand , and I will thee embrace . Know'st thou my presence is in every place ? S. Yes Lord , I know in every place thou art , And yet not circumscrib'd to any part ; I know that thou art present every where , Yet , neither place nor motion do thee beare . G. And dost thou know I have an all-seeing-eye ? S. I know , acknowledge it submissively ; And that thou , Lord , revenger of all ill , Dost eye and spie , see and fore-see all still . If I should hide my selfe in earth most deepe , Thy piercing eye could sentinell ( there ) keepe , If I in wildernesse would build my nest , Even there should I to thee be manifest . G. And dost thou know that I am judge of all ? S. Most certainly ; and that my Saviour shall The whole world judge with equity and right , Though he , on earth , was sentenced , with spight . G. O , if thou didst both know and well beleeve That I thy God do every thing perceive . Am present every where , and must judge all , I thinke ( so oft ) on sinne thou wouldst not fall . S. We all ( O Lord ) are very weake and fraile ; And I know none , so apt , as I , to faile . G. By how much thou thy state more fraile dost So much the stronger thou shalt daily grow . But , tell me now this one thing , wouldst thou faine know , Be counted worthy me to entertaine ? S. Blessed , thrice blessed is that soule most sure , That can his God , to be his guest procure . For , he can never want a sure protection , In whom thou dwel'st , worthy thy sweet refection . G. Thou shalt be worthy if thou follow me ; S. Lord , to the crosse , in Christ , to purchase thee . G. That blessed author , finisher of faith , Hanging upon the Crosse , bequeathed hath , In his last-will of love and piety , To divers sorts , a severall legacie . To his Apostles , persecutions tart , Vnto the Iews his corps and wounded heart ; His Spirit into his heavenly Fathers hands . Vnto the Virgin , Iohns firme fostering-bands : To the beleeving-thiefe , blest paradise ; To soule-slaying sinners , helt , just pay for vice ; And , to repentant-Christians , he set downe , A certaine crosse , before a promis'd Crowne . S. O Testament full of pure charity ! From whence I may collect infallibly That all the hope of mans salvation blist Doth in Christs meritorious death consist . G. And whence thou mayst collect thy dignity , The purchase of a soule , a price most high ; Which , at no lower rate could ransom'd be , But by Christs bloud shed on the Crosse for thee , Vse ( then ) all care thy selfe to watch and ward , Vnto thy latter end have great regard . And this most holy wholesome sentence grave Be ( evermore ) sure in thy minde to have ; Whether I sleepe or wake with watchfull eye , Or whatso'ere I do , continually Me thinks , that last great Trumpets sound I heare ; Arise ye dead to judgement ( now ) appeare . S. A sound ( O Lord ) indeed , most lowd and shrill , To Saints most glad , to sinners sad and ill . G. And yet ( alas , I pitty thy poore case ) This shaking sound which should all evill chase ; No sooner is remembred , than forgot , And , this , the soules rich worth doth staine and spot . An asse fals in a pit , and is puld out ; But , if a soule falls , no man looks about . Ev'ry man does his bodies death much feare , But , very few do for the soules death care . And , whence ( I pray ) does this souls-slaughter rise ? Because men do that precious thing despise , Which being lost and carelesly neglected , A soule so falne cannot be re-erected . Nothing ( men say ) more precious is than Time ; And yet ( alas , oh t is a common crime ) Nothing is ( now a dayes ) esteem'd more base , Nothing more slighted than these dayes of grace . Yet , on this moment , which men ( here ) let fly , Dependeth ( most ) mans blest eternity . Then let not Pastimes , passe the times away , But up , be doing good in this thy day . Correct thy selfe , and then my mercy crave ; No fault so great , which cannot pardon have . S. But ( O my God ) I many things ( here ) finde , By liking which , I staine and soyle my minde . G. But , he them all , contemnes most easily , Which alwaies mindefull is that he must dye . S. O , but ( deare God ) I feare I shall dye never . G. Dye to the world , and live with me for ever . But , marke this well ; unto the world to dye , Is , to forsake this world primarily ; Not to be left , by it : for if that men Begin Repentance , and to leave sinne , then , When they can sinne no longer , and forsake The world , when they no more of it can make ; Sinne leaveth them , they doe not leave their sinne , The world leaves them , ere they this worke begin . Not to avoyd a danger when thou may'st , Is , not to have thy hope upon me plac'd ; But 't is to tempt me rather , wilfully , Leaving the rule , liking security . In hope ( therefore ) feare , fearing take good heed ; Thus , of much danger thou shalt ( safe ) be freed . Beare tryals then , and thou shalt comforts have , No conquest comes , without a battaile brave . S. Most holy Lord , I all things will forsake , All tryals I will gladly undertake , That I ( at last ) may thee my God possesse , Who art my All in All , in all distresse . Forsake thy-selfe and then thou shalt me finde , Put off all high-conceipts , all pride of minde . A Christians prime-Praeludium and best tryall , Is to divorce himselfe , by selfe-denyall . Thou art not mine , if thou preferre thy will , Before my pleasure , in thy actions ill . For , no man , heere , can stand , which , heartily , Will not himselfe , for my-sake , vilifie . Thou hast within thee , from me , still to teach thee ; Or , stay with me , or else returne and reach me . When-ere thou shalt be mov'd or avocated , By ill-affects , nay , defects instigated , Give me thy-selfe ( then ) and thou shalt me gaine , Love me and thou shalt my free love obtaine . S. Certainely ( holy Lord ) he loves not truly , Who loves ought with thee , which thee loves not duely ▪ Love , to the thing-belov'd , transaminates , And in its love , it-selfe ( full ) fatiates . I wholly leave my-selfe , nought is in me , I , totally being thine , will rest in thee . And , in my Saviours armes I doe desire . My life to lead , and sweetly to expire . But yet , I cannot comfortably sleep ▪ Vntill my Soveraignes armes me safely keepe . G. Be comforted ( poore Soule ) thou shall be sure To be more safe , then , rest thou heere secure ; A Christians-crosses are a Christians Crowne And shall obtaine immortall high renowne . Persist , therefore , in this my Cordiall-love , Wherein , if thou thy-selfe sincere approve , Thou wilt a thousand deaths more soone endure , Than , willfully ( by sin ) my wrath procure . Persist ( I say ) in my religious feare , Wherein , if thou thy-selfe uprightly beare , Thy House of Clay thou shalt well regulate Thy actions , thou shalt , wisely , ordinate . Thus , thou shalt sweetly have repose in me , Thou need'st not feare , because my love 's in thee . For , that soule ( surely ) cannot feare that loves But , that soule , whom no love of me ( once ) moves . For , perfect love all servile-feare casts-out , And fortifies the soule from griefe and doubt . It brings-forth most enduring-dignity , And , fits thee for my Saints society . S. Most holy God , so write thou in my Heart , By finger of thy Spirit , the sacred Art Of memory of thy Mellifluous-name , That blacke-Oblivion nere blot out the same . Yea , print upon my soule and sincere minde , And , graven on my Brest , let me ( still ) finde Thy sacred pleasure , which , no chance or change , May violate or from my thoughts estrange . Come , Lord , come perfect , what thou hast begun , And , in-mee , on-mee , Thy blest will be done . G. Goe-on , then , with thy gracious resolution , Bring all to holy , happie Execution ; Live , heere ( as other Saints ) a little space , Then , thou , in Heaven shalt have a glorious Place . The end of the fifth Dialogue .
The sixt DIALOGUE . Betweene the Soule and the City of God . The Argument of the sixth Dialogue . The Soule being ( here ) in heav'n suppos'd ; And in its longed joyes repos'd ; Gods holy City is brought in , It s gracious welcome to begin : And to the Soule to demonstrate Its most victorious , glorious state . The Soule is ravisht with delight , At its coelestiall sacred sight ; Reproves the worlds fond aberration , Neglecting this so great Salvation : Whereof , it-selfe ( thus ) now , possest , Abides in endlesse Peace and Rest. ALL-haile most holy City of the Lord ; What glorious sights are these , thou dost afford ▪ Most blessed Spouse of Christ , beloved Bride ; What amiable joyes in thee abide ! What sacred songs , what musicke doe I heare ! What heavenly Hymnes , with most melodious cheere Doe chant about mine eares , in every street ! What pleasant fruit-trees ! O what Manna sweet Doe I ( here ) see and savour , touch and taste ! In midst of what sweet pleasures am I plac'd ? What precious prizes are there , heere , afforded ? O what most glorious matters are recorded Of thee blest City of our God of love , And that most justly ? for all true I prove ! For , in thee is ( indeed ) a habitation Of onely such as joy with exultation . Even here where 't is more difficult , to say , What is not here , than what is , to display ; Yea , though mine eloquence did all 's excell , Yet could I not its glory truely tell . C. Now then ( most welcome soule ) from this blest sense , Thou feel'st and find'st by good experience , That one day in Gods house is better biding , Than , elsewhere are a thousand dayes residing . S. I finde it so ( indeed ) and one day , here , Doth an eternall day to me appeare ; To which no yesterday gives any place , Nor any morrow makes to end its race . Where nothing is that was not ( first ) here flowing , Or , which ( already ) is not here , full growing . So sweet and pleasant is this lasting light , So full of rare and ravishing delight , That , if the soule could it enjoy no more , Than but one-houre and so must give it ore , Even for this-onely sweet , the pleasures rife And flowing temp'rall-ioyes of all Mans life , Though ere so many yeeres spent jollily , Ought all to be contemn'd most worthily . For , in thy sight ( O God ) a thousand yeeres As yesterday , instantly past , appeares . C. But , say ( sweet soule ) what dost thou ( now ) esteem Of that most slippery-age ? What dost thou deeme And judge of those thy former dayes ( now ) past ? Those fleeting-yeeres , quite spent , and could not last , And which shall nere-returne ? What thinkst thou ? say , Of that fast fleeting time , now , fled away ? All that is past thereof , is ( now ) no more , And all to come thereof , none can restore . What , of that-day , whose morning-houres are fled ? Whose afternoones are not recovered . What of that-houre , whose minutes from thee sliding ? For their remainder , there was no abiding . Are not all these , as if they neere had beene ? Compar'd with this blest state thou ( now ) art in . For , in this most desiderable Land , No troubling-toyle is to be tooke in hand . No pining pinching-paine is to be borne No griefe whereby the Heart is hurt or torne . But , heer 's the highest honour to be had , Heer 's mutuall-love to make the Heart most glad Heere , thou by knowing perfectly shall see , Heere , by delighting , thou shalt loving be . Heere , by possessing , thou shalt ever praise , Heere , to thy God , be chanting heavenly-Layes . Whom , thou shalt see to satisfie thy pleasure , Whom , thou shalt have to fill thy will , full-measure , Whom thou shalt to thy joy , enjoy for ever , Whom thou to love and laud shalt aye persever . Where thou shalt flourish in eternity , Where thou shalt glister in pure verity ; Where thou shalt shine in perfect purity , Where thou shalt joy in sweet security , Where thou shalt finde endlesse stability Of perfect-knowledge rare facility . Of sweet-repose and rest a happy sense , Of all that may content , the Quintessence . O how can I describe sufficiently , This Holy-Cities faire felicity ? Whose Citizens are blessed Angels bright , Whose Temple is the Father of all Light ; Whose splendour is the Sonne of Righteousnesse Whose glorious-love the Spirit doth expresse . S. O sacred-City , joyes variety ! O blessed state of Saints society ! C. And , we reciprocally are as glad , Of this thy fellowship with us now had , As wee are of our-owne blest happinesse . For , thou dost now so sweet a place possesse , Where , One soules comfort , comforts all the rest , None , heere , anothers-good doth ill-digest , But , each of us does take as much delight In others blisse , as in his proper right . S. O then , how happy is my blessed-state , Whom such choice mates doe so associate ? So many sacred Citizens doe meete , So lively , lovely Saints so kindely greete : How sweet was this blest Cities meditation , To me , when I on earth had habitation ? But , O how much more sweetnesse doe I taste , To be in it , of it , belov'd , embrac'd ? To contemplate my soules faire Bridegroome blest , My soules sweet soule , my Prince of glorious rest . C. But , come ( faire sister ) give me now thy hand , And thou shalt in me , see and understand Our yet more sacred sweets , our mansions faire , Glistring with gems and precious stones most rare . I will thee into our Wine-Cellars guide , Where , Flagons full of purest wine abide ; Into our Refectorie choicely deckt With heauenly dainties palates to affect . Where neither longing doth ingender paine , Nor fulnesse doth least nauseousnesse containe . Where , neither he that eates is over-cloyd , Nor , what is eaten is not full-supply'd . Where , ever over-flowing flouds of pleasure Will cheere thy soule in most abundant measure , And will thy heavenly heart inebriate With love-divine , yet still most temperate . Here run pure Rivers of the wat'r of life , Here are faire meads , gardens of pleasures rife , Here 's augmentation of felicity , Glories-encreasings with sure constancie . Beds of delight , boards of aboundant joy , All that may comfort , nothing to annoy . Yea , from this mount of savorie spices rare Behold , at full , a heavenly mirrour faire , And , therein , see Saints glistring splendour bright , And all their honour of majesticke might . In this faire port of peace is labours rest , This creeke of comfort foes cannot infest , Here being safty with eternity , Contentive joy with full satiety . With various noveltie all rare delight , And sugred sweetnesse in Gods sacred sight . S. And , who would not both long and like it best ▪ To set downe here his everlasting rest ? Both for its peace , and for its pleasant light ▪ For its eternitie and Gods blest sight . In ever knowing God the Fathers power , The wisedome of the Sonne , in 's heavenly bower , The holy Spirits tender clemencie , To have full knowledge of the Trinitie . C. T is true , ( sweet soule ) Gods secrets open be , There he will befull seene and lov'd of thee . S. O , blessed-vision , in himselfe seene trim , To see God in us , and our selues in him ! C. Yea to see him , who is the light of lights The rest and receptacle of delights . Life of all living , seat of travellers , The palme , the prize , the crowne of conquerers . S. O , who can Gods great goodnesse understand , How wondrous are the works of his right hand ? Yesterday I was in earths darknesse dimme , To day in heavens resplendent lustre trimme . Yesterday in the roaring Lyons power , To day , i th' hands of my sweet Saviour . Yesterday , brought unto the gates of hell , To day in Paradise , where joyes excell . Yesterday in the worlds circumf'rence round , To day in Abrahams bosome blestly found . O , that men living on the earth below , Did least part of celestiall joyes well know ! Then , solely , seriously , all paines the'yd take In holy duties : no least losse they 'd make Of precious time , which no man can regaine , Nor would so fruitlesly their lives retaine . Divines would ( then ) more study lives than learning More to live well than quaint disputes discerning . Their chiefe philosophy they would it deeme , To know Christ and him crucifi'de esteeme . Grave Oratours would not so breake their brains To vent strong lines , invent such losty strains , As , holily and heartily to speake , And , by good works , from guilded words would break . The worlds great traders would more piously , Endure and not procure an injurie , And count a quiet and good conscience best , Yea farre beyond the greatest gaine possest . Then , that intolerable beast most wilde , I meane , that canker covetice most vilde , Would not so rage and rave in courses base , But , yeeld to time , as the fit time of grace . Yea all of all sorts would so sparke and shine , In holinesse of life and gifts divine ; That , those two sayings , at the last great day , Should never from their thoughts depart away , Go , O ye cursed , into fire eternall . Come , O ye blessed , to a crowne supernall . Oh , what can be more harsh , more full of wo ? Than ( then ) to heare that bitter saying , go . But , what can better ( then ) pronounced be ? Than , that blest invitation i● ? Come ye . Two sentences , than one of which , none sadder , And , than the other , none was ( ere ) heard gladder . Oh , if men would these throughly ruminate , Then , they more soundly would recogitate And thinke upon the last and dreadfull day ; As that , on which , they must resolve to clay . Yea , they the judgement-day would duely tender , As that , on which , they must a reck'ning render . Then would they muse and meditate on hell , As on that lake where woe and horrour dwell . And thinke on heaven , as on a glorious place , And kingdome of incomparable grace . Their time , yet left , to heaven they 'd consecrate , Their lampe , yet light , aloft they 'd elevate . No day without a line , no line should be Without a guiding-rule to sanctitie . No smallest sand out of the houre-glasse , Without ( at least ) one trickling teare should passe . They , nothing , not time-present , would count theirs , Whose onely minute , all their due appeares . The morning they would make dayes inchoation , The evening , that dayes due examination . Their bodies from their beds they soone would raise , Their drowsie sleepe they 'd shun without delayes : Their candle lighted , they betimes would pray , And , give their God the first-fruits of the day . Then , they would boldly looke death in the face , Yea , gladly they 'd invite his hastie pace ; And , being wholly dead to earths false joy , They best would live , while they seem'd life to 'stroy By dying , so , they death would deadly wound , And , by Deaths death , their life would best be found . Thus , they would not count death a pang or paine , But , rest from sorrow and their greatest gaine . Thus , earth disdain'd and heav'n obtain'd , all blest , They would approach the haven of endlesse rest . But , worldlings ( alwayes ) finde by proofe most bad Whiles they breathe out this sentence sowre and sad ( O death , how bitter is the thought of thee ! To those that earthly peace , with wealth , do see ? ) That unto whom the world 's a blandishment . To them it brings , from heaven , a banishment . For , two most distant loves do men ( still ) make Of two most distant Cities to partake ; The love of God , Ierusalem erects , The love of earth , proud Babilon protects . The place of peace , Ierusalem is nam'd , Babilon is Seditions seat proclaim'd . But , they shall nere in Peaces-city dwell Which love not peace , but like confusion well . O , then that men on earth these things would minde , They ( even on earth ) an heavenly life would finde . G. Thou dost ( indeed ) most sweetly meditate , Things well befitting soules in heavenly state ; For , if men did these things , more seriously , Discusse and scan , and to themselues apply , They , to the world , would ( sure ) more strangers be , And cleave to God in neerer amitie . But , we must joy in Gods revealed will ▪ Rejoyce in Converts comming to us , still ; Pray the approach of all terrestriall Saints Who , this our Cities ruine and restraints Must restaurate and full re-edifie , And make complete to all eternity . Meane while ( sweet soule , beloved , lovely mate ) Come thou to us , with us cohabitate , Blest in thy selfe , gratefull to us all blest , Most blessed in this blessed state of rest , Come let us ( now ) with interchang'd embraces With mutuall joy , new songs , go take our places In Gods most admirable Tabernacle , All sacred Saints most holy habitacle . Now , thy ( once ) Ministers become thy mates ; Now , 'mongst the lillies in most lovely states , 'Mongst troops of glorious Angels shining bright Thy lustre ( now ) may glister , full of light . Yea , now , thou mayst lye downe on beds of roses Amongst Gods lovely lambes in sweet reposes . Come , come ( I say ) be now exceeding glad , That thou art with celestiall beauty clad ; Ioy , in enjoying endlesse joy and peace , In Gods blest presence , which can never cease . S. O , most mellifluous sweetnesse most admird ! O , heavenly honey pleasures most desir'd ! How sweet thou art in serious meditation ! How farre more sweet in thy due declaration ! How much more sweet to view and contemplate ! How most transcendent sweet in blest estate ! T is not in all I am to set thee forth , T is past my power to blaze thy blessed worth . But , t is enough for me that I possesse thee , That being in thee blest , I , thus , do blesse thee . That I aloud , his laud and praise may sing , That plac'd and grac'd me here , heav'ns glorious King ; To whom , with Iesus Christ and his blest Spirit Who doth all power and praises , wholly , merit , Even , heavens ineffable Trine-unity , Be Halelujahs sung eternally . Amen .
Ephes. 5.14 .

Arise , thou that sleepest , and stand up from the dead , and Christ shall give thee light .

Bernard .

An account must be given of all the time lent unto us , how it hath beene spent by us .

Aug. upon Psal. 36.

My brethren , if ye are perswaded that we shall enjoy any such things , in that countrey , whe●eunto the celestiall-silver trumpet incites and summons us : and for their sakes ye are willing to abstaine from things present , that there ye may receive those future comforts more copiously : Do , then , as those men , who being invited to a great feast , keepe their stomacks empty , and are content to abstaine , that their appetites may attaine an ( even ) insatiate satisfaction .

FINIS .