the more my griefes oppresse me He hath dispoyld my ioyes and goes about My Branches being lopt to stroy the Root His Plagues like souldiers trench within my bones My friends my kindred fly me all at once My neighbours my familiars haue forgon me My houshold stares with strangers eyes vpon me I call my seruant but his lips are dumbe I humbly beg his helpe but hee 'l not come My owne wife loathes my breath though I did make My solemne suit for our dead childrens sake The poore whose wants I haue supply'd despise me And he that liu'd within my brest denyes me My bones are hide-bound there cannot be found One piece of skin vnlesse my gummes that 's sound Alas complaints are barren shaddowes to Expresse or cure the substance of my woe Haue pitty oh my friends haue pitty on me 'T is your Gods hand and mine that lyes vpon me Vexe me no more O let your anger be If I haue wrong'd you calm'd with what ye see O! that my speeches were ingrauen then In Marble Tablets with an yron Pen For sure I am that my Redeemer liues And though pale death consume my flesh and giues My Carkas to the wormes yet am I sure Clad with this selfe-same flesh but made more pure I shall behold His glory These sad eyes Shall see his Face how-e're my body lies Mouldred in dust These fleshly eyes that doe Behold these Sores shall see my Maker too Vnequall hearers of vnequall griefe Y' are all ingag'd to the selfe-same beliefe Know ther 's a Iudge whose Voyce will be as free To iudge your words as you haue iudged me Said Zophar then I purpos'd to refraine From speaking but thou mou'st me back againe For hauing heard thy haughty Spirit breake Such hasty termes my Spirit bids me speake Hath not the change of Ages and of Climes Taught vs as we shall our succeeding times How vain 's the tryumph and how short the blaze Wherein the wicked sweeten out their dayes Though for a while his Palmes of glorie flourish Yet in conclusion they grow seire and perish His life is like a Dreame that passes o're The eye that saw him ne're shall see him more The Sonne shall slatter whom the Syre opprest And poore he shall returne what he did wrest He shall be bayted with the Sinnes that haue So smil'd vpon his childhood to his Graue His Plenty purchac't by oppression shall Be Hony tasted but digested Gall It shall not blesse him with prolonged stay But euilly come it soone shall passe away The man whose griping hath the poore opprest Shall neither thriue in state nor yet find rest In soule nought of his fulnesse shall remaine His greedy Heyre shall long expect in vaine Soak't with extorted Plenty others shall Squeeze him and leaue him dispossest of all And when his Ioyes doe in their height abound Vengeance shall strike him groaning to the ground If Sword forbeare to wound him Arrowes shall Returning forth anoynted with his Gall No shade shall hide him and an vnblowne Fyer Shall burne both him and his Heauen like a Cryer Shall blaze his shame and Earth shall stand his Foe His wandring Children shall no dwelling know Behold the mans Estate whom God denies Behold thine owne pourtracted to thine Eyes Meditatio duodecima CAn mercy come from bloody Cain Or hath His angry Brow a smile Or can his Wrath Be quencht with ought but righteous Abels Blood Can guiltie Pris'ners hope for any Good From the seuerer Iudge whose dismall Breath Doomes them to die breathes nothing else but Death Ah righteous Iudge wherein hath Man to trust Man hath offended and thy Lawes are Iust Thou frownest like a Iudge but I had rather That thou would'st smile vpon me like a Father What if thy Esau be austere and rough Thou hast a Iacob that is smooth enough Thy Iacobs tender Kid brings forth a blessing While Esau's tedious Ven'zon is a dressing Thy face hath smiles as well as frownes by turnes Thy fier giueth light as well as burnes What if the Serpent stung old Adam dead Young Adam liues to breake that Serpents Head Iustice hath struck me with a bleeding wound But Mercy Powr's in Oyle to make it sound The milke-white Lambe confounds the roaring Lion Blasted by Sinah I am heal'd by Sion The Law finds guiltie and Death Iudgement giues But sure I am that my Redeemer liues How wretched was mans case in those darke dayes When Law was onely read which Law dismaies And taking vantage through the breach of it The Letter kils and can no way admit Release by Pardon for by Law we dye Why then hop'd man without a reason Why Although there was no Sunne their Morning eies Saw by the Twilight that the Sunne would rise The Law was like a mistie Looking-Glasse Wherein the shaddow of a Sauiour was Treates in a darker straine by Types and Signes And what should passe in after-dayes diuines The Gospell sayes That He is come and dead And thus the Riddle of the Law is read Gospell is Law the Myst'ry being seal'd And Law is Gospell being once reueal'd Experience tells vs when as Birth denies To man through Natures ouer-sight his eyes Nature whose curious workes are neuer vaine Supplies them in the power of his Braine So they whose eyes were barr'd that glorious sight Of the Messiah's day receiu'd more Light Inspyred by the Breath of Heauen then they That heard the tidings of that happy Day The man that with a sharpe contracted eye Looks in a cleare Perspectiue-Glasse doth spie Obiects remote which to the sense appeare Through helpe of the Perspectiue seeming neere So they that liu'd within the Lawes Dominion Did heare farre off a Bruit and buzz'd Opinion A Sauiour one day should be borne but hee That had a Perspectiue of Faith might see That long-expected Day of Ioy as cleere As if the Triumph had been then kept there Lord so direct me in thy perfect VVay That I may looke and smile vpon that Day O! bathe me in his Blood spunge euery Staine That I may boldly sue my Counter-paine O! make me Glorious in the Doome he giues For sure I am that my Redeemer liues THE ARGVMENT Earths happinesse is not Heauens brand Arash recounting of Iob's crimes Iob trusts him to th' Almighties hand God tyes his Iudgements not to Times Sect. 13. THen Iob replyde O let your patience proue You came not to afflict me but in Loue. O! beare with me heare me speak at leisure My speech once ended mock scoffe your pleasure Myst'ries I treat not Toyes If then I range A thought beyond my selfe it is not strange Behold my case and stand amaz'd forbeare me Be still and in your deeper silence heare me Search you the hearts of man my Friends or can You iudge the Inward by the Outward man How haps the Wicked then so sound in Health So ripe in Yeeres so prosperous in Wealth They multiplie their House is
entice His silly winged Prey doth first deuise To make a Bird his stale at whose false Call Others may chance into the selfe-same Thrall Euen so that craftie Snarer of Mankind Finding mans righteous Pallate not enclind To taste the sweetnesse of his guilded Baites Makes a collater all Sute and slily waites Vpon the weakenesse of some bosome Friend From whose enticement he expects his end Ah righteous Iob what Crosse was left vnknowne What Griefe may be describ'd but was thine owne Is this a lust mans case What doth befall To one man may as well betide to all The worst I 'le looke for that I can proiect If better come 't is more then I expect If otherwise I 'm arm'd with Preparation No sorrow's sudden to an Expectation Lord to thy VVisdome I submit my VVill I will be thankfull send me Good or Ill If Good my present State will passe the sweeter If Ill my Crowne of Glorie shall be greater THE ARGVMENT Orewhelm'd with griefe Iob breaketh forth Into impatience Bans his Birth Professes that his heart did doubt And feare what since hath fallen out Sect. 6. WOrne-bare with griefe the patient Iob betray'd His seuen-dayes silence curst his day said Oh that my Day of birth had neuer been Nor yet the Night which I was brought forth in Be it not numbred for a Day let Light Not make a difference twixt it and Night Let gloomy Shades then Death more sable passe Vpon it to declare how fatall 't was Let Clouds ore-cast it and as hatefull make it As life's to him whom Tortures bid forsake it From her next day let that blacke Night be cut Nor in the reckning of the Months be put Let Desolation fill it all night long In it be neuer heard a Bridall song Let all sad Mourners that doe curse the Light When light 's drawne in begin to curse this Night Her euening Twylight let foule Darkenesse staine And may her Mid-night expect Light in vaine Nor let her infant Day but newly borne Suffer't to see the Eye-lids of the morne Because my Mothers Wombe it would not cloze Which gaue me passage to endure these Woes Why died I not in my Conception rather Or why was not my Birth and Death together Why did the Midwife take me on her knees Why did I sucke to feele such Griefes as these Then had this Body neuer been opprest I had inioy'd th' eternall sleepe of rest With Kings and mighty Monarchs that lie crown'd With stately Monuments poore I had found A place of Rest had borne as great a sway Had been as Happy and as Rich as they Why was I not as an abortiue Birth That ne're had knowne the horrors of the earth The silent Graue is quiet from the feare Of Tyrants Tyrants are appeazed there The grinded Prisner heares not there the noyse Nor harder threatnings of th' Oppressors voyce Both Rich and Poore are equal'd in the Graue Seruants no Lords and Lords no Seruants haue What needs there Light to him that 's comfortlesse Or Life to such as languish in distresse And long for death which if it come by leisure They ransack for it as a hidden Treasure VVhat needs there Life to him that cannot haue A Boone more gracious then a quiet Graue Or else to him whom God hath wal'd about That would but cannot finde a Passage out VVhen I but taste my Sighes returne my Food The flowing of my Teares haue rais'd a flood When my Estate was prosperous I did feare Lest by some heedlesse or want of care I might be brought to Misery and alas What I did then so feare is come to passe But though secure my soule did neuer slumber Yet doe my Woes exceed both Waight and Number Meditatio sexta SO poore a thing is Man No Flesh and Blood Deserues the stile of Absolutely Good The righteous man sins oft whose power 's such To sin the least sins at the least too much The Man whose Faith disdain'd his Isacks life Dissembled once a Sister for a Wife The righteous Lot being drunk did make at once His Daughters both halfe sisters to their Sonnes The royall Fauorite of heauen stood Not guililesse of Adultery and Blood And he whose hands did build the Temple doth Bow downe his lustfull knees to Ashtaroth The sinfull Woman was accus'd but none Was found that could begin to sting a stone From muddled Springs can Christall Waters come In some things all men sin in all things some Euen at the soyle which Aprils gentle showers Haue fild with sweetnesse and inricht with flowers Reares vp her suckling plants still shooting forth The tender blossomes of her timely Birth But if deny'd the beames of cheerly May They hang their withred heads and fade away So man assisted by th' Almighties Hand His Faith doth flourish and securely stand But left awhile forsooke as in a shade It languishes and nipt with sin doth fade No Gold is pure from Drosse though oft refin'd The strongest Cedar's shaken with the wind The fairest Rose hath no prerogatiue Against the fretting Canker-worme The Hiue No hony yeelds vnblended with the Wax The finest Linnen hath both soyle and bracks The best of men haue sins None liues secure In Nature nothing's Perfect nothing Pure Lord since I needs must sin yet grant that I Forge no aduantage by infirmity Since that my Vesture cannot want a Staine Assist me lest the tincture be in Graine To thee my great Redeemer doe I flye It is thy Death alone can change my Dye Teares mingled with thy Blood can scower so That Scarlet sinnes shall turne as white as Snow THE ARGVMENT Rash Eliphaz reproues and rates And falsly censures Iob Relates His Vision shewes him the euent Of wicked men Bids him repent Sect. 7. THen Eliphas his pounded tongue replieu'd And said Shuld I cōtēd thou would'st be grieu'd Yet what man can refraine but he must breake His angry silence hauing heard thee speake O sudden change Many hast thou directed And strengthned those whose minds haue been deiected Thy sacred Thewes and sweet Instructions did Helpe those were falling rays'd vp such as slid But now it is thy case thy soule is vext And canst not helpe thy selfe thy selfe perplext Thou lou'dst thy God but basely for thy profit Fear'st him in further expectation of it Iudge then Did Record euer round thine eare That God for sooke the heart that was sincere But often haue we seene that such as plow Lowdnesse and Mischiefe reape the same they sowe So haue proud Tyrants from their throanes bin cast With all their of spring by th' Almighties Blast And they whose hands haue bin imbrew'd in blood Haue with their Issue dyed for want of Food A Vision lately ' appeard before my sight In depth of darknesse and the dead of night Vnwonted feare vsurpt me round about My trembling bones were sore from head to foot Forthwith a Spirit glanc'd before mine eyes
My Browes did sweat my moystned Haire did rise The Face I knew not but a while it stayd And in the depth of silence thus it said Is man more Iust more pure then his Creator Amongst his Angels more vpright by nature Then Man he hath found Weaknes how much more Shall he expect in him that 's walled ore With mortall Flesh and Blood founded and floor'd With Dust and with the Wormes to be deuour'd They rise securely with the Morning Sunne And vnregarded dye ere Day be done Their Glory passes with them as a Breath They dye like Fooles before they thinke of death Rage then and see who will approue thy rage What Saint will giue thy railing Patronage Anger destroyes the Foole and he that hath A wrathfull heart is slaine with his owne wrath Yet haue I seene that Fooles haue oft been able To boast with Babel but haue falne with Babel Their sons despairing roare without reliefe In open Ruine on the Rocks of Griefe Their haruest though but small the hungry eate And robbers seaze their wealth though ne'r so great But wretched man were thy Condition mine I 'de not despaire as thou dost nor repine But offer vp the broken Sacrifice Of a sad soule before his angry eyes Whose Workes are Miracles of admiration He mounts the Meeke amidst their Desolation Confounds the worldly wise that blind-fold they Grope all in Darknesse at the noone of Day But guards the Humble from reproach of wrong And stops the current of the crafty Tongue Thrice happy is the man his Hands correct Beware lest Fury force thee to reiect Th' Almighties Tryall He that made thy Wound In Iustice can in Mercy make it sound Feare not though multiply'd Afflictions shall Besiege thee He at length will rid them all In Famine he shall feed in Warre defend thee Shield thee from Slander and in Griefes attend thee The Beasts shall strike with thee eternall Peace The Stones shall not disturbe thy fields Encrease Thy House shall thriue replenisht with Content Which thou shalt rule in prosprous Gouernment The number of thy Of-spring shall abound Like Summers Grasse vpon a fruitfull ground Like timely Corne well rip'ned in her Eares Thou shalt depart thy life struck full of yeeres All this Experience tels Then Iob aduise Thou hast taught many now thy selfe be wise Meditatio septima THe perfect Modell of true Friendship 's this A rare Affection of the soule which is Begun with rip'ned Iudgement doth perseuer With simple Wisdome and concludes with Neuer 'T is pure in substance as refined Gold That buyeth all things but is neuer sold It is a Coyne and most men walke without it True Loue 's the Stampe Iehouah 's writ about it It rusts vnvs'd but vsing makes it brighter 'Gainst Heauen high Treason 't is to make it lighter 'T is a Gold Chaine linkes soule and soule together In perfect Vnitie ties God to either Affliction is the Touch whereby we prooue Whether 't be Gold or guilt with fained Loue. The wisest Moralist that euer diu'd Into the depth of Natures bowels striu'd With th' Augar of Experience to bore Mens hearts so farre till he had found the Ore Of Friendship but despaying of his end My Friends said he there is no perfect Friend Friendship 's like Musick two Strings tun'd alike Will both stirre though but onely one you strike It is the Quintessence of all Perfection Extracted into one A sweet connexion Of all the Vertues Morall and Diuine Abstracted into One It is a Mine Whose nature is not rich vnlesse in making The state of others wealthy by partaking It bloomes and blossoms both in Sunne and shade Doth like the Bay in winter neuer fade It loueth all and yet suspecteth none Is prouident yet seeking not her owne 'T is rare it selfe yet maketh all things common And is iudicious yet it iudgeth no man The noble Theban being asked which Of three propounded he suppos'd most rich In vertues sacred Treasure thus reply'd Till they be dead that doubt cannot be try'd It is no wise mans part to waigh a Frend Without the glosse and goodnesse of his End For Life without the Death considered can Affoord but halfe a story of the Man 'T is not my friends Affliction that shall make Me either Wonder Censure or Forsake Iudgement belongs to Fooles enough that I Find hee 's afflicted not enquier Why It is the hand of Heauen That selfesame Sorrow Grieues him to Day may make me grone to Morrow Heauen be my comfort In my highest griefe I will not trust to mans but Thy reliefe THE ARGVMENT Iob counts his sorrowes and from thence Excuses his Impatience Describes the shortnesse of mans Time And makes confession of his Crime Sect. 8. BVt wretched Iob sigh 't forth these words said Ah me that my Impatience were waigh'd With all my Sorrowes by an equall hand They would be found more pondrous then the sand That lyes vpon the new-forsaken shore My Griefes want vtt'rance haue stopt their Dore And wonder not Heau'ns shafts haue struck me dead And God hath heapt all Mischiefes on my head Will Asses bray when they haue grasse to eate Or lowes the Oxe when as he wants no meate Can Pallates find a rellish in distast Or can the whites of Egges well please the tast My vexed soule is daily fed with such Corruptions as my hands disdaine to touch Alas that Heauen would heare my hearts Requste And strike me dead that I may find some Rest What hopes haue I to see my end of griefe And to what end should I prolong my life Why should not I wish Death My strength alas Is it like Marble or my flesh like Brasse What Power haue I to mitigate my Paine If e're I had that Power now is vaine My friends are like the Riuers that are dry In heat of Summer when necessity Requireth water They amazed stand To see my Griefe but lend no helping hand Friends begge I succour from you Craued I Your Goods to ransome my Captiuity Shew me my faults and wherein I did wrong My Patience and I will hold my tongue The force of reasonable words may mooue But what can Rage or Lunacy reprooue Rebuke you then my words to haue it thought My speech is frantick with my griefe distraught You take a pleasure in your friends distresse That is more wretched then the Fatherlesse Behold these Sores Be iudg'd by your owne eyes If these be counterfeited miseries Ballance my words and you shall find me free From these foule crimes wherewith ye branded me And that my speech was not distaind with sin Only the language sorrow treated in Is not mans Day prefixt which when expyr'd Sleepes he not quiet as a seruant hir'd A seruants labour doth at length surcease His Day of trauell findes a Night of peace But wretched I with woes am still opprest My mid-day torments see no euen of Rest My nights ordaind
I know as much as you But you auerre If I should pleade with God That he would double his seuerer Rod. Your tongue belyes his Iustice you applie Amisse your Med'cine to my Maladie In silence you would seeme more Wise lesse weake You hauing spoke now lend me leaue to speake Will you doe wrong to doe Gods Iustice right Are you his Counsell Need you helpe to fight His Quarrels Or expect you his applause Thus brib'd with selfe-conceit to pleade his Cause Iudgement 's your Fee when as you take in hand Heauens cause to pleade it and not Heauen command If that the foulenesse of your Censures could Not fright you yet me thinkes his Greatnes should Whose Iustice you make Patron of your lyes Your slender Maxims and false Forgeryes Are substanc't like the dust that flies besides me Peace then and I will speake what ere betides me My soule is on the Rack my teares haue drown'd me Yet will I trust my God though God confound me He He 's my Towre of strength No hypocrite Stands vnconfounded in his glorious sight Ballance my words I know my case would quit Me from your censures should I argue it Who takes the Plaintiffes pleading Come for I Must pleade my Right or else perforce must dye With thee Great Lord of Heauen I dare dispute If thou wilt grant me this my double Sute First that thou slake these sorrowes that surround me Then that thy burning Face doe not confound me Which granted then take thou thy choyse let me Propound the Question or else answere Thee Why dost thou thus pursue me like thy Foe For what great Sinne do'st thou afflict me so Break'st thou a withred Leafe Thy Iustice doth Summe vp the Reck'nings of my sinfull Youth Thou keep'st me Pris'ner bound in fetters fast And like a thread-bare Garment doe I wast Man borne of Woman hath but a short while To liue his Dayes are fleete and full of toyle He 's like a Flower shooting forth and dying His Life is as a Shaddow swiftly flying Ah! being so poore a thing what need'st thou mind him The nūber of his daies thou hast confin'd him Then adde not plagues vnto his Griefe O giue Him peace that hath so small a time to liue Trees that are fell'd may sprout againe Man neuer His dayes are numbred and he dyes for euer Hee 's like a Mist exhaled by the Sunne His dayes once done they are for euer done O that thy Hand would hide me close and couer Me in the Graue till all thy Wrath were ouer My desperate sorrowes hope for no Reliefe Yet will I waite my Change My day of griefe Will be exchang'd for an eternall Day Of Ioy But now thou dost not spare to lay Full heapes of Vengeance on my broken soule And writest my sinnes vpon an ample scrowle As Mountaines being shaken fall and Rocks Though firme are worne rent with many knocks So strongest men are batter'd with thy Strength Loose ground returning to the Ground at length So Mortals dye and being dead ne'r mind The fairest Fortunes that they leaue behind While man is man vntill that death bereaue him Of his last breath his Griefes shall neuer leaue him Meditatio decima DOth Hist'ry then and sage Chronologie The Index pointing to Antiquitie So firmely grounded on deepe Iudgement guarded And kept by so much Miracle rewarded With so great Glorie serue but as slight Fables To edge the dulnesse of mens wanton Tables And claw their itching eares Or doe they rather Like a concise Abridgement serue to gather Mans high Aduentures and his transitorie Atchiuements to expresse his Makers glorie Acts that haue blowne the lowdest Trumpe of Fame Are all but Honours purchac't in His name Is he that yesterday went forth to bring His Fathers Asses home to day crown'd King Did he that now on his braue Palace stood Boasting his Babels beautie chew the cud An hower after Haue not Babes been crown'd And mightie Monarchs beaten to the ground Man vndertakes Heauen breathes successe vpon it What Good what Euill is done but Heauen hath done it The Man to whom the World was not asham'd To yeeld her Colours he that was proclam'd A God in humane shape whose dreadfull Voyce Did strike men dead like Thunder at the noyse Was rent away from his Imperiall Throne Before his flowre of Youth was fully blowne His Race was rooted out his Issue slaine And left his Empire to another Straine Who that did e're behold the ancient Rome Would rashly giuen her Glorie such a doome Or thought her subiect to such Alterations That was the Mistresse and the Queene of Nations Egypt that in her walls had once engrost More Wisdome then the World besides hath lost Her Senses now Her wisest men of State Are turn'd like Puppets to be pointed at If Romes great power and Egypts wisdome can Not aide themselues how poore a thing is Man God Playes with Kingdomes as with Tennis-balls Fells some that rise and rayses some that falls Nor Policie can preuent nor secret Fate VVhere Heauen hath pleas'd to blow vpon a State If States be not secure nor Kingdomes than How helpelesse Ah! how poore a thing is Man Man 's like a Flower the while he hath to last Hee 's nipt with frost and shooke with euery blast Hee 's borne in sorrow and brought vp in teares He liues a while in sinne and dyes in feares Lord I 'le not boast what ere thou giue vnto me Lest e're my brag be done thou take it from me No man may boast but of his owne I can Then boast of nothing for I am a Man THE ARGVMENT Rash Eliphaz doth aggrauate The sinnes of Iob malign's his state VVhom Iob reprouing iustifies Himselfe bewailes his miseries Sect. 11. DOth vaine repining Eliphaz replies Or words like wind beseeme the man that 's wise Ah sure thy faithlesse heart reiects the feare Of heauen dost not acquaint thy lips with prayre Thy words accuse thy heart of Impudence Thy tongue not I brings in the Euidence Art thou the first of men Doe Mysteries Vnfold to thee Art thou the onely wise Wherein hath Wisdome been more good to you Then vs What know you that we neuer knew Reuerence not Censure fits a young mans eyes We are your Ancients and should be as wise Is 't not enough your Arrogance derides Our counsels but must scorne thy God besides Angels if God inquier strictly must Not plead Perfection then can man be iust It is a truth receiu'd these aged eyes Haue seen 't and is confirmed by the wise That still the wicked man is voyd of rest Is alwayes fearfull falles when he feares least In troubles he despaires and is deiected He begs his bread his death comes vnexpected In his aduersity his griefes shall gaule him And like a raging Tyrant shall inthrall him He shall aduance against his God in vaine For Heauen shall crush and beate him downe againe What if his Garners