of straw 180. Where being full of aches sores and biles Thy beauty turned to a tawny hue And that consum'd which was so faire ere whiles Vnknowne of those that thee but lately knew As a just vengeance to thy merits due Breathest thy last beneath some open stall Or di'st diseased in an Hospitall 181. There lies thy pompe and glory in the dust Thy body cloth'd with rags and all too torne Thy flesh comsum'd and wasted by thy lust Loathed condemn'd disdain'd and held in scorne Not one of all thy friends for thee will mourne Nor hardly thinke thee worthy for to have To hide thy stinking corps a simple grave 182. Loe here Amanda view thy selfe at large Behold thy life and after that thy death Peruse each line and letter I thee charge Let it not be forgotten in a breath To thy best thoughts I doe the same bequeath Advisedly consider of the matter I tell thee what is true and scorne to flatter 183. And if it take effect as I desire And breede a sorrow for thy time mispent If it shall cause thee from thy course retire And be a meanes to make thy heart relent And be reform'd by my admonishment Assure thy selfe that thou hast gain'd a friend That shall not faile thee till his life doth end 184. For my sake therefore I adjure thee here To turne thy course and bend another way For thy friends sake to whom thou shouldst be deere Come home unto thy selfe and doe not stay For thine owne sake I charge thee to obey And in compassion of that soule of thine Live not in darknesse when the sunne doth shine 185. Pity thy yeeres that are but young and tender Pity thy fathers care thy mothers love For thy sad kindreds sorrow pity render Let thy acquaintance some compassion move Looke not still downe but raise thy thoughts above If no thing else prevaile let feare of God Worke thy conversion and his threatning rod. 186. Strive to regaine the honour thou hast lost And seeke thy ruin'd credit to repaire Thy conscience is benum'd with follies frost Let thy warme teares of sorrow thaw the ayre That chils thy heart with nipping cold despaire And so dissolve thy crusty yce of sinne That hot repentance may let mercy in 187. Redeeme the time that thou hast spent in vaine And persue honour as thou followd'st vice Although unwilling yet thy selfe constraine Against thy will to vertue be not nice Tire not in acting goodnesse twice or thrice But persevere from one unto another As happy daughter of a blessed mother 188. And when thou hast this little Pamphlet read And seene the scope whereto these lines doe tend Let them not passe an hower out of thy head Vntill thy sorrow make thy life amend And worke a reformation in the end Doe not oh doe not put them from thy heart But to thy sickly soule some helpe impart 189. Then shall my prayers flie aloft with thine And my desires seeke earnestly thy blisse Thy happinesse shall be to me as mine Thy godly sorrow for thy life amisse Shall breed such joy as none shall be like this The comfort that thy soule shall thereby taste Shall be a Crowne of glory at the last 190. In hope therefore of this my good successe And of a happy welcome to these lines Wishing thou mayst thy wicked lusts suppresse I leave thee unto him whose grace refines Praying his blessing unto these designes Heavens grant thee that which none on earth can give A life prepar'd to die a death to live When I had written these lines I made them up in a little booke and by a friend which I had sent them unto her lodging with a letter likewise to be delivered unto her both which my friend presented to her owne hands and she receiving of them thankfully read over the letter presently in his sight and told him that so soone as she had perused the booke which should not be long she would send her answer unto me and so my friend taking a courteous farewell left her and returned telling me of the kinde welcome both of the letter and the booke which I was glad to heare of and therefore hoped in a short time to receive her answer which I did wish might be according as I both expected and desired I wayted for her answer about ten daies and not hearing from her well knowing in that time she might at her leisure have read it over I began to wonder what the reason should be imagining that eyther she was loath to bestow so much paynes as to reade it or else having read it she was offended at it and being willing to be satisfied herein yet unwilling that she should take any notice of my desire I sent another friend not to her lodging but neere unto it to the end that I might be assured whether she still continued there or whether she were removed to any other place my friend taking occasion secretly to enquire of her understood by one of the neighbours that she kept her old lodging and that she had lately beene very sicke and was not then recovered Of which her sicknes when I understood I was in some hope that she had considered seriously on the contents of the booke and that it had wrought so farre with her that she had layd the same to her heart and was thereby drawne to a strict examination of her owne life which might be the meanes of troubling her conscience so farre as that it might breede a distemper in her body and so be the cause of impayring her health desirous therefore to understand how she digested it whether there were any other cause of her disease I sent my friend to her lodging to see how she did not taking any notice that I had knowne of her sicknesse and withall to excuse my not comming unto her all that time whither when he came he was willingly conducted into her chamber where she then lay in her bed and delivering his message unto her she told him that she had beene very ill and wonderfull desirous to see me and entreated him to signifie so much unto me and that she was minded to send a messenger unto me but that by reason of her sicknesse she knew not how conveniently to doe it not speaking one word unto him concerning the booke My friend not staying long with her and promisig to acquaint me with her desire departed and telling me what her request was and in vvhat case he found her I resolved vvithin fevv daies to visit her and accordingly within a day or two after I came unto her chamber where being entred I found her sitting in her chaire by the fire and weeping exceedingly I comming in so suddenly and she turning her head espying of me presently leapt out of her chaire and comming towards me tooke me by the hand and looking earnestly in my face she began to speake to me to this effect the substance whereof for memory sake I
and told her that if she were at leasure if it pleased her I would come over the way to her she told me I should be welcome and desired me to come With that going to my Study and taking some idle pamphlets that I had there I went unto the house where she lay she kindly met me at the doore and so conducted me to her chamber where with reading sometimes and sometimes with talking we spent a good part of the afternoone and after many questions asked her I perceived that a little siege would batter the fortresse of her honesty and understood by her that her meanes was small and her friends not many and her selfe as she seemed willing to take any honest course that should sute with the credite of a Gentlewoman with many other speeches to that purpose but taking leave of her for that time she intreated me that I would be no stranger at her Chamber for that she should take it very kindly if I would come and sit with her at my leasure times when I had nothing else to doe which I promised her to performe But afterwards considering with my selfe if I should often resort thither it might be a cause that some malignant tongue would speake worse of me then I deserved and thereby draw a scandall upon my selfe which once gotten would not be easily shaken off I did therefore forbeare going to her chamber yet every day she sitting in the Embroyderers roome we had conference together and so continued our acquayntance where often talking with her at length she told me she was to goe from thence and to lie in the Towne and asked me if I did not goe sometimes abroad in the City I answered her I did and desired that if she pleased to tell me where she lay in the Towne I would make bold to visit her at her lodging she told me where I should finde her who shortly after going from the place where she then lay sent a note in writing intreating me not to forget my promise to visit her at her lodging and therein set downe the place where I should enquire for her It was not long after but I had occasion to goe into London in company of another Gentleman and passing neere the place where she lay determined to goe visit her and so enquiring for her at her lodging we were told that she lay there but she was that day abroad at dinner with certaine Gentlemen but where or with whom they knew not whereupon we returning thence it came in our minds to goe to a Taverne not farre off to drinke a pint of Wine and if occasion served to enquire whether such a Gentlewoman did lie in the streete and what she was where comming in we were brought into a little roome sitting our company where as we were drinking of our Wine we heard musicke and much mirth in the next roome unto us and enquiring what company was there we understood that there were two or three Gentlewomen with divers gallants in their company that dyned there that day but what they were we could by no meanes understand whereupon I intreated one of the drawers to helpe me privately to a sight of them for I thought I did heare the voyce of one that I knew he presently brings me to a secret place where I might discover the whole company and amongst them all I perceived the same Gentlewoman that I came that day to visit and noteing her carriage with the rest of her associats she seemed to me more jocund merry and familiar than any woman respecting her honesty and her credit would have beene I desired the Gentleman that was with me that we might stay and see the conclusion and parting of that company who was contented and thereupon understanding that they intended to sup there we resolved to sup there also by our selves in the little roome where we were at the first placed by which meanes we both heard and saw most of their conversation presently after supper they dismissed their musicke and having all of them well steeped their braines in Wine they then began to shew of what metall they were made where after much rude and unseemely behaviour they discharged the house and went their way my friend and I having likewise payd our reckoning followed after them to see the uttermost event of this meeting they had not gone farre from the Taverne but the company parted and onely one Gentleman conducted my acquaintance to her lodging where so soone as we saw them to enter the house we betooke our selves likewise to our lodgings having by that daies worke sounded more of her disposition then I had done in all the time of my acquaintance before For whereas I was till then led by report and some suspition which I drew from my owne conjecture I now saw so much of her carriage that I could not conceive that her former report had wronged her Not many daies after I tooke an occasion to write unto her and the effect of my Letters was this That I had lately bin at her lodging to have seene her but could not be so happy as to finde her within therefore I desired in regard that I had not the priviledge to goe often abroad that she would give me leave to write unto her and withall that liberty in writing that she would not take any thing distastefully but to read it over with patience and deliberation and desired likewise her answer in writing This Letter I sent unto her and received an answer in writing that she was sorry that she was not at home at the time of my being there which if she had knowne of she would have remedyed and desired she might see me if I could coveniently otherwise if I would take the paines to write unto her she would be so farre from taking offence at any thing that I should write of that she would thinke her selfe much bound unto me for the same and did faithfully promise to reade it with patience and due consideration and withall desired me that I would write unto her in verse because it was a thing she much affected and would be pleasing unto her in the reading Having understood thus much by her answer I determined to use the strongest arguments that I could for her reformation hoping that my writing might perchance worke so much with her as it might bring her into a loathing of her former life and perswade her to such courses as might be more profitable both to her soule and body Wherefore taking some paines for her conversion I wrote these lines following and making them up in a little booke sent the same unto her the successe whereof you shall afterwards heare To the faire Amanda 1. BOld of thy promise and obliged word From which I doe presume thou wilt not start Whereby thou didst so willingly afford Acceptance of my lines with gentle heart And what I write to take is in good part This is one ground that
shall injure thee 89. This said we both together left the roome And I conducted her along the street Vntill I brought her to my Mothers home Whereas at doore my Sister did her meete And then my Mother did her kindly greete And entertain'd her in most courteous wise As either of them could in heart devise 90. Then did Amanda live and spend her time In holy duties reading and in prayer With griefe lamenting her fore-passed crime Till she was even brought unto the staire Through horror of her sinn of blacke despaire But of Gods speciall grace he did impart The joy of his good Spirit to her heart 91. For many good Divines did flocke unto her Applying godly comforts to her soule And greatly striving their best good to doe her Taught her so well her follies to condole And mortifie her sinnes erewhile so foule That they at length by daily information Wrought in her a good hope of her salvation 92. Then with more comfort would she pray and talke Yet pensive still of sinne she would complaine Forth of the house she seldome times would walke Vnlesse it were to Church and backe againe If she were well she would not thence abstaine Sermons and Service she did oft frequent And to no place as Church so gladly went 93. There would she listen with her best attention And pray as earnestly as any prai'd Avoiding sinne by diligent prevention And workes with faith to couple she assai'd Desires of pleasure were in her decai'd The onely path in which she striv'd to trace Was to repent for sinne and pray for grace 94. Oh how she loath'd the very name of whore And all that led a wicked wanton life Their sinfull courses she did much deplore The unmarried wench the widow and the wife As she knew many in those actions rise So she endeavour'd moving them by letter For to reclaime them and to make them better 95. No roaring youngster came within her sight Nor lustfull Prodigall did see her face Her secret friend that was her sole delight Was now forsaken and quite out of grace Whereas she lay he must not know the place Nor he nor any now must looke upon her That had before attempted her dishonour 96. Thus did she leade her life unto her death Dying to sinne and living unto grace To goodnesse wholly she did her bequeath She tooke no pleasure in her comely face Nor any evill motion did embrace But spent her time in holy contemplation To beate downe sin shame the worlds temptation 97. Two yeeres she liv'd in sound and perfect health The most reformed creature on the earth She had not much and yet desir'd no wealth Humble she was as one of meanest birth And more inclin'd to sadnesse then to mirth Vaine pratling and much talking she despises Delighting most in pious exercises 98. She did no company at all admit But modest vertuous and of good report To talke of Plaies she would not heare of it She tooke no joy in any kinde of sport Meetings at Tavernes now she car'd not for t She did not seeke for to augment her store And what she had to give she gave the poore 99. She did abandon every earthly pleasure Delighting onely in religious bookes Her godly zeale did make the heavens her treasure From thence alone she for her comfort lookes Her studie was to shun the divels hookes And all her hopes on which she did depend Was on Christs merits at her latter end 100. After two yeeres that she had lived thus She fell through griefe into a heckticke feaver The which at length did grow so dangerous That of all hopes of health it did bereave her And never left her till her life did leave her Weaker and weaker still she pin'd away And saw how nature in her did decay 101. She knew her thred of life was almost spun And with great patience tooke her visitation She did rejoyce her life so neere was done Being acquainted long with tribulation And now her heart with heavenly consolation Was so replenisht and with such delight She would not longer live if that she might 102. Her griefe grew stronger still as she grew weake Hasting apace to bring her to her end At length she did desire with me to speake Where at her bed I straight way did attend Then reaching me her hand she said my friend My onely friend thy love through heavens grace Hath-sav'd the sinfull'st soule that ever was 103. The booke thou sent'st that little Paper booke Wherein thou did'st unmask my foule offence Behold and see what true effect it tooke That booke I say did worke in me the sence Of my owne follie and my impudence I blesse the time for this thy blessed favour And blesse the Lord that blest thy good endeavour 104. And here my latest thankes to thee I give And with these thankes of mine this little Ring My houre is come I can no longer live Wear 't for my sake although a worthlesse thing I cannot recompence thy meriting My tongue doth faile goe toule the passing bell A thousand times sweet friend farewell farewell 105. This said she drew her hand into the bed The time approaching of her latest 〈◊〉 Then turning up her eyes to heav'n she sed Lord to thy hands I doe my spirit commend Then to the wall her body did she bend And with a feeble voice againe she cri'd Iesus receive my soule so she did 106. And so she did so she di'd to live And living as she did she sweetely di'd Her death to her a lasting life did give Her life before her death was mortisi'd And at her death her life beatifi'd Death vanquisht life concluding of her paine Shee liv'd to die and di'd to live againe FINIS A Meditation upon Death NOthing more wisht then wealth yet that must leave us Nothing more sweete then love that lasts not ever Nothing more kinde then friends yet they l deceive us Nothing more fast then wedlocke yet they sever The world must end all things away must fly Nothing more sure then death for all must dy More honours may be got but they 'l away More beauty may be had but t will not last More wealth may be obtain'd but t will decay More joyes may follow but those soone are past For long continuance t is in vaine to try Nothing more sure then death for all must dy Sure love must dy though rooted in the heart Sure t is that all things earthly are unstable Sure friends are pure friends yet such friends must part Sure t is that all things here are variable Nor two nor one may scape nor thou nor I Nothing more sure then death for all must dy Then let the rich no longer covet wealth Then let the proud vaile his ambitious thought Then let the sound not glory in his health Then let all dy since all must come to nought The elder sish as well as younger fry Nothing more sure then death for all must dy Death tooke away King Herod in his pride Death spar'd not Hercules for all his strength Death strooke great Alexander that he did Death long spar'd Adam yet he di'd at length The begger and the King the low the high Nothing more sure then death for all must dy For Scepters Crownes Emperiall Diadems For all the beauties that on Earth doe live For pleasures treasures jewels costly jems For all the glories that the world can give She will not spare her dart but still replie Nothing more sure then death for all must dy All from the highest to the low'st degree All Nations People Kingdomes Countries Lands All in the Earth or Aire or Sea that be All all must yeeld to her all conquering hands She wounds them all with an impartiall eye Nothing more sure then death for all must dy Must all then dy then all expect their death Must ' all things vanish Sunne and Moone and Starres Must every living creature yeeld his breath Must all things end our joyes delights and cares Yes all with an united voice doe cry Nothing more sure then death for all must dy Dy let us then but let us dy in peace Dy to our sinnes that dying we may live Dy to the world that grace may more increase Dy here to live with him that life doth give Die we must needs let wealth and pleasure ly Nothing more sure then death for all must dy FINIS Nothing More Sure Then Death For All Must Dy.