may know 〈◊〉 he has not in some passi nate haste Without sufficient grounds his Sentence Past. 264. The Priests had mony that commanding Spurr Which fires all Soldiers with impatient Speed And Pilate now can cast in no Demurr The Jews assure him that he has no need But need or not his thoughts in vain doe beat The Soldiers now were bought to doe the Feat 265. But being Martiall generous Spirits they Must not debase their armed Backs to bear The servile ignominious Cross nor may The Jews who now all purified were To celebrate their Paschall Supper be Stain'd by the Touch of that accursed Tree 266. On JESU'S Wounds his Death the Soldiers lay And He must ern his Crosses Service by Bearing its tedious Weight before he may Be born by it Thus with a barbarous Crie Of Tongues and Trumpets which the Welkin rent Through the cheifstreets this sad Procession went 267. But He whose Springs so drained were before Both of their Blood and Spirits now grew faint In vain they kick'd him and in vain they tore Him forward by his Hair for no Constraint Can make weak Nature her own Power exceed Nor finde out Firmnesse in a broken Reed 268. What Heart but seared by the fire of Hell Could now Compassions courteous Tears forbear But yet the Soldiers bosomes by the fell Contagion of the Iewish Malice are So deeply tainted that what might invite Tigres to Pittie does but whet their Spight 269. For meerely in prevention of the Loss Of that choise Sport they hoped for when He Was once set fair and sure upon his Cross As the full Mark at which all Scoffs might be Directly aim'd Him from this Load they spare And force Cyrenian Simon it to bear 270. Nay Live you shall say they till you may Die As you deserve mean while this Ernest take Of that full Summe which We will by and by On Golgotha without abatement make With this they beat Him and so much the more As with his Blood he no Complaints would poure 271. Indeed the softer Sex who upon Him And on his Woes did wait with tenderer Eyes In his own Blood could not behold Him swim But with their Sympathetick Tears and Cries Confess'd that they had Bowells still although Remorseless Stone Mens hearts did overgrow 272. But Jesus who did all this grevious while Encourage by his patient Silence those Most insolent Jeers and Blasphemies the vile And spightfull Jews could frame doth now oppose These Womens loving Tears and upon them With nobler Pitty turn their pittying Stream 273. For 't was his brave Ambition to engross All Greifs and Sorrows to Himself to day Esteeming every Groan of theirs his Loss And all his Woes discredited that they Should seem to need Assistants when stout He To his own Shoulders woo'd all Miserie 274. Weep not ye Daughters of Jerusalem Weep not for Me who have set ope my Breast To every Greif which into it can stream And thither mean to welcome every Guest Weep not for Me said He whose Sorrows are Not to be quenched by a mortall Tear 275. If you will broach your Bottles let them run For your own selves and your unhappy Seed For loe those fatall Days are posting on Which all your Brine and more than all will need The Days when Blessing shall no longer spred Its joyous Complement on Mothers Head 276. For then the Barren Womb shall praised be As fertile in the choisest Happiness Then everie Tongue those Papps ariditie Which never brought up Babe to Woe shall bless Then shall the dearest pledges of your Love Your Sonns and Daughters living Torments prove 277. Then in impatient longing for a Grave Despairing Men shall to the Mountains call And everie neighbour Hills Compassion crave Beseeching them upon their Heads to fall And hide them though in Death from seeing how Calamitie about the World doth flow 278. For if in me a young and verdant Tres The flames of Veng'ance thus prevailing are What shall the Refuge or Condition be Of Stumps and Trunks all withered and sear Which are already dri'd and fit alone For feuell for their own Combustion 279. In a fresh Cursing and Blaspheming fitt This set the mad-braind Rout who ask'd Him why When they of late so humbly begged it He would not condescend to Prophesie And why He who could others Woes so well Discern could nothing of his own foretell 280. And see good Prophet yonder Hill said they Take your own Counsell now before it prove Too late Come let Us heare what you can say Both it and its Compassion to move Set out your Throat if hard and loud you plead Perhaps 't will bow its own to hide your Head 281. Then having star'd a while upon Him all Whose Fists or Toes or Spittle him could reach With thick and peevish indignation fall Upon his bruised bloody Body Which Triumphant scorns He meekly vanquish'd by His Silence and march'd up to Calvarie 282. Ev'n to this Calvarie We stand on heer This Mount which from a Scull hath gain'd its Name For in this solemn Place the Sepulchre Of reverend Adam stood which carefull Fame Told to Posteritie and so the Hill Wears in its Title that old Story still 283. With such Decorum did thy prudent Lord Order his meritorious Passion that The second Adam might his help afford Unto the First where He lay chain d and shut Up in Deaths Prison the remorseless Grave Which to Corruption did Him enslave 284. Iesus on that drie Dust resolv'd to shed His most enlivening purifying Blood That He might wash and cure the tainted Head Of Mortalls Miserie by the soveraign Flood Of his own Life that Life which onely can Restore true vitall vigor unto Man 285. Here 〈◊〉 here the Crosse its foot did set When it sustaind the Worlds Redeemer here Is that renouned Soile which once was wet With richer Drops than ever shoured were From kindest Heav'n for by that fertile Dew Salvations Harvest to perfection grew 286. But yet this Hill wears not that onely Name Of Calvarie 't was call'd Moriah too Of old when zealous Abraham hither came His most renouned Sacrifice to doe And by unparalleld Obedience prove The valourous Bravery of faithfull Love 287. Brave Abraham hither came his Altar heer He built and prepossess'd the Crosses place So Isaac did thy Lords a while But there An hamperd Ram strait substituted was Thus Isaac scap'd but now there was no Ram Which might supply the place of heav'ns dear Lamb. 288. Jesus himselfe must sacrificed be Not by but to his Father Psyche now That fatal Houre was come when Tyrannie Held the free Reins and did its freedome know When purest Innocence was abandond quite Unto the Luxurie of proudest Spight 289. For loe the Souldiers thy torn Saviour stretch And fit Him unto his tormenting Tree His blessed Hands unto the Topp they reach Those Hands whose workmanship all creatures be His Feet unto the bottom those pure Feet Which no Bloud but their
and its sad Warrant bear Date upon this my joyous Birth-day How Shall Lun-snarle my Promise and contrive That both mine Honor and the Saint may live 161. Both cannot live I see O that I were Some private Man that so I might be free Of my repute but Princes Honors are The Peoples too and by Community I should make all the Body perjured If I my selfe prove so who am their Head 162. And must John die Bear witnesse All how loth This Word doth fall from my constrained Lip To recompence the too too hasty Oath Which from Imprudence not from Me did slip Then take his Head Yet never say that I Issu'd this Warrant but Necessitie 163. Thus strove the Tyrant by a comely Lie To veile the Visage of his hideous Hate For fear the Damsell by his privity Might seeme to have contriv'd the Baptists fate Whil'st dreading his unlawfull Vow to break Adultery He doth with Murder back 164. Was it not plain that his outragious Vow Did prostitute but halfe his Realm and why Must the blood thirstie Hypocrite bestow More than the Whole What Prodigalitie Is this mad Herod For Johns Head alone Is worth more than thy Kingdome or thine own 165. Loe there the last Dish of great Herods Feast The Martyrs Head in a faire Charger laid He smiles within though clouds his face o'r-cast And feeds his soul on it But the proud Maid Knowing her Mother by this Death would live In triumph takes the Dish and takes her leave 166. The Royall Beldame in suspence did wait To reape her spightfull Stratagems event But when she saw the bloody Present straight Grown young with Salvage Joy hir high Content She to her dancing Daughter does display In her own tripping and lascivious way 167. Then much like some she-Bear whose long-wish'd Prey Is faln at last into her hungry Paws She tears the sacred Lips and rends a Way Unto the reverend Tongue which our she draws And then with peevish Wounds and scornfull Jests Her Womanish Revenge on it she Feasts 168. But mark that Convoy of illustrious Light Which seems from this low World to make such haste The better part of John there takes its flight Unto a greater Kings than Herod's Feast That Goale his Body and this World were three Prisons to Him who now from all is free 169. The Patriarks and Prophets all gave way When they this greater Saint approaching saw Who now his blessed Harbour doth enjoy For those fierce Storms he grappled with below And sweetlier rests in Abrahams bosome then In the adulterous Kings the lustfull Queen 170. This is the Story which the Virgin Mother Hath round about thy Girdle made to live But mark this well my Psyche 't is that other Selected Jewell which thy Spouse did give To crown the rest and tie up all the story In one divine Epitomie of glory 171. Divided 'twixt amazement and delight The Virgin read the strange Embroyderie But when on that last Gem she fix'd her sight Immortall Joyes so swell'd her soul that she Runs over with delicious Teares and cries Come Phylax come gird me with Paradise 172. Content said He but then be sure to shrink And hugg your self alone within your selfe The Girdle's wonderous strait nor must you think That any supernumerary Pelf Can finde a room in this rich mansion where The outward Walls of solid Jewells are 173. This said before her self was well a ware He closely buckled it about her Heart Straight she complains Oh spare me Phylax spare My squeased soul least from her self she start O loose the Buckle if the time be come That I must die at least afford me roome 174. Must I be girt to death and not have space To fetch one parting sigh before I die O me whose sins have made my Spouse imbrace Me with imbroidered Tortures so that I The riddle of unhappy Maids must goe In travell with more than a Mothers Woe 175. And so shee did indeede Such matchlesse Throws And Pangs did sting her in her straitned Heart Till at the length she bringeth forth and shows Her wondering selfe the reason of her smart Whil'st from her labouring Breast she pressed sees A shapelesse Lump of foule Deformities 176. Imperfect Embryo's unformed Lust Pin-fethered Fancies and halfe-shap'd Desires Dim Dawns of Fondnesse doubtfull seeds of Rust Glimmering Embers of corruptive Fires Scarce something and yet more than Nothing was That mystick Chaos that dead-living Masse 177. O how tormenting is the Parturition Of tender souls when they unload themselves Of their blinde night-conceiv'd Bratts of perdition How doe the peevish and reluctant Elves Mad with their own birth viperously contend The labouring bowells of the Heart to rend 178. This makes Faint-hearted Mortalls oft preferre The sad Reversion of eternall Pain Before this Conflicts Pangs So they may hear A quiet Truce with all their sinnes maintain They are content though Hell must with their Grave Set ope its Mouth and Them as sure receive 179. Psyche deliver'd of that monstrous Birth Now findes her Girdle fit and easie grown Affording roome for all the Train of Mirth With which her Bosome now was over-flown She view'd the Newborn Thing and viewing smil'd Not out of love but hate unto the Childe 180. As one from blinde Cimmeria newly come Beyond his own ambition into Arabia's blessed Fields and finding room Both for his eyes and joyes doth wondering goe Over those spicely Paths and thinks that hee Doth now no lesse begin to live then see 181. So overjoyed she admired now The glorious Day new risen in her Breast Where carnall Clowds before would not allow A constant beam to dwell but over-cast Her so that labouring she had much adoe To spie her Heav'n and see which way to goe 182. For now her soul was clearer than the face Of faire Aurora wash'd in Eastern streams Unspotted Thoughts flock'd in to take their place In her pure Heart which now a Garden seemes Of Lilies planted on warm Bedds of Snow Through which Gods Spirit doth gales of Odours blow 183. All Sublunary Sweets she has forgot Nor thinks this bitter World can breed such things All Beauties to her Eye are but one Blot The Bees to her are nothing else but stings All Loves are Hate all Dalliance Vexation All Blandishments but Poyson in the Fashion 184. For by this Girdle she his Pris'ner is In whose alone she reads the Name of Love And in the Languishments of softest Blisse By dainty Torments doth her patience prove Crying at every sigh O Jesu when Shall I have liv'd this Death and Life begin 185. What further businesse have I here below With flesh and Blood whose joyes I relish not Who is the Conquerour of my Heart but thou And since thy love this Victory hath got Why must thy Captive not permitted be To wait on thy triumphant Coach and thee 186. Though for thy Royall Scorn I fitting be Yet why wilt thou thine own Choise disallow If I had still neglected been
her hardest travell come O who can tell the Pangs by which she was Tortur'd and torn when her unhappy Womb It self unloaded for the Curse was sure Nor could those Torments ever find a Cure 275. In sin conceiving she brought forth in pain And with Pollution dy'd her Progenie Through all Successions her anneiled stain Did propagate its own Deformitie And all her Heirs bind in an Obligation Of Death and what is deadlier Damnation 276. Besides the peevish and importunate 〈◊〉 Of restless Kicking at Heav'ns gentle Law It s fretfull Taint did in proud Triumph stretch Through the whole Current of her Blood which now In humane veins so madly boyls and flames That kindled at the fire of Hell it seems 277. Thus when black Venome has into the Spring Infused Death the Streams which from it runne How farre so e'r they travell still they bring Along with them that first Contagion The furthest Drop knows not how to escape The reach of that Originall Mishap 278. Your Souls I grant rise not from that foul Spring Nor did they ever swimme in Adams veins Yet is the Body so unclean a thing That strait it doth communicate its Stains Nor can the soul be pure which married is To so contagious a Spouse as this 279. Yet call not God unjust who doth commit So fair a Gemme unto so foul a Case Thereby infallibly engaging it To be as black and cursed as its Place O no He still is kind and knows a way Through Wrath and Judgement Mercy to display 280. No Plot of Satans spight shall undermine Or make a breach in the Creations frame Nature shall still proceed and Heav'ns Designe Of Mans felicitie persist the same God-like it is indeed Fates Scales to turne And make them Blest who to a Curse were born 281. Whilst God makes pure Souls dive into this stream Of Blackness gratious He contriveth how To wash and cleanse and re-imbellish them Till they unto such pow'rfull Beautie grow That sweetly on their Bodies they can be Reveng'd infecting them with Puritie 282. Such purging Might in Jesus Blood there flows That from the face of its least Drop doe flie This Stain which at the Root of Mankind grows And all those Blots which on the Branches lie And this dear Fountain in Decree was broach'd Long e'r the Soul by any Taint was touch'd 283. They who desire 't may here refined be Into a Claritude becomming that High Paradise of whose felicitie Edens was onely the faint Shaddow But They who scorn such Bliss would themselves have thrown To Hell though Eve had never help'd them down 284. And tell me Psyche what thou thinkest now Of thy Extraction which from wretched Dust The Scumm of Earth and game of Winds doth flow What of thy rotten Kindred since thou must Corruption for thy Mother own and call Each Worm thy Sister that in mire doth crawl 285. Yet Worms are ly'ble to one onely Death A Death which quickly will it selfe destroy But thy Composure in its bosome hath A Living Poyson that may finde a way To kill thee with surviving Death by which Thy torture to Eternity shall reach 286. Think well on this and if thou canst be proud Who by the Pride of thy first Parents art With this destructive Portion endow'd And from thy Birth betroth'd to endlesse Smart Think what vast distance lies 'twixt worthlesse thee And the Almighty King of Majesty PSYCHE OR LOVES MYSTERIE CANTO VII The Great Little One. ARGUMENT THe Angell convoys Psyche to the Sceen Of Mercies grand Exploits to shew Her what Dear Care Heav'n took to wash her bosome clean From the foule shame of every sinfull Blot Betimes he 'gins and from the morning Glory Of Loves bright Birth lights in the blessed Story 1. ILlustrious Spirits of Fire who e'r you be This Lesson will be no discredit to Your towring Flames nor must Heroick Yee To Schoole to Psyche's Legend scorn to goe Such Sparks as you for all your glittering be In your Originall as dim as she 2. As other Fires at length to Ashes grow So must brave Yee Yet they were lighted from Some generous bright Originall but you And your Extraction did from Ashes come Whether forward you or backward turn your eye Your Bounds are Vilenesse Shame and Miserie 3. Examine Alexanders Monument Or Helens Tombe and marke what there does lie Or if your Nostrills dread the banefull sent Of their in-vain-embalmed Majesty Trust that strong Proof which bidds you sadly think That you though great and fair must end in stink 4. But trust not Pride whose tumid Treachery Did to that Rottennesse all the World betray No Poyson yet did ever swell so high Or to such certain Death prepare the way Steep headlong Danger on the Mountains reigns Let them who safe would walk walk on the Plains 5. Plain are the Walks of mild Humility And know no Precipice but planted are With sweet Content with pious Privacie With cheerfull Hope and with securing Fear An Humble Soule which always dwells below Prevents that Ruine which on Hills doth grow 6. The Tempest's aim is at those lofty Things Which rise against it and its strength defie This to the Pines and Oaks Destruction brings Whilst modest Shrubbs beneath in peace doe lie Thus come proud Rocks to rue the angry Wind Which to the humble Vales is alway kinde 7. Humility is provident and acquaints Aforehand with her Ashes which she knowes Must be her End She in no flattering Paints Her sober Judgment and her self will loose She dies betimes how long so e'r she lives And Death but as a long known Freind receives 8. She huggs her Herse and does her Grave imbrace And pants and longs her finall Ev'n to see When in that cool and undisturbed Place Her weary Head to rest may setled be Assured of a Friend whose Care hath found For Her to Heav'n a passage under ground 9. She strongly woo's the Worms to crawle apace She prays not slow Corruption to make haste Toward Death for life she runs and thinks her Race Is long because she yet lives On as fast She speeds as Sighs of Love can blow Her or Fire of unquenchable Desire can spurr 10. O meek Ambition which correctest Pride Into a Virtue and mak'st Venome grow Plain Antidote An heart which thou dost guide Struggles and reaches still to be more low And prides it self in nothing but to be From Prides Dominion intirely free 11. The Seeds of this fair Grace deep planted were In Psyche's tender Heart by Charis hand Which as they sprouted up with heav'nly care To weed and dresse them Phylax by did stand And now to make them flourish higher she Will with her liberall Tears their Waterer be 12. For Phylax had no sooner made an end But She begins first by her showring Eys Then by her Tongue which with their Tears did blend Its Lamentations Woe is me she cries What now should Psyche doe who needs would be Proud of her shame and
Lesse sweet they thought the Altar and would faine Be nestling in her Breast or Lap againe 28. But holy Simeon whose stout Expectation Grounded upon Heav'ns Credit did sustein His aged Life by potent Inspiration Forgot his leaden pace and flew amain Into the Temple for the nimble Blast Of Gods owne Spirit lent him youthfull haste 29. O how his greedy Soule did Worke and Beat And thinke the time an Age till He was come Unto his Blisses Shore where in the heat Of hastie Zeale He snatch'd his Saviour home Into his longing Armes and Heart which now Broke from his Lips and in these Words did flow 30. O Life thou now art out of debt to my Long-stretch'd Attendance and can'st nothing show Of further Worth wherewith to charme mine Eye And make it still be hankering heer below No I have seen what I did live to see The worlds Hopes and mine owne and heer-they be 31. Deare Lord of Heav'n heer is that hop'd-for He In whom lie treasur'd up Power and Salvation Which now thy love exposed hath to be The blessed Theame of humane Contemplation All Eyes may see this Face as well as I And cleerly read their owne Felicitie 32. This noble Face by whose Soule-piercing Rayes The 〈◊〉 untill now damm'd up in Night Admonish'd are to understand their Wayes And tread the open Paths of High-noone Light This Face whose more than golden Beauties be The glorious Crown of Iacobs Progenie 33. O Death if thou dar'st draw neer Life's great King Come take possession of my willing Heart That I a swarthy and unworthy Thing From his too radiant presence may depart I am too blest to live and cannot bear The burden of this heav'nly Lustre here 34. The good Old man thus eas'd his pious Zeal And having sacrific'd a Kisse upon The Infants royall Foot began to feel His Prayers were heard and that Death hasted on Which He to meet went home and order gave With sweet and hasty Joy about his Grave 35. As Echo unto his Devotion Loe The venerable Matron Anna came She whose Prophetick Heart did bid her goe To wait upon and to adore the same Young Son of Wonders that her Sex in Her As His in Him its duty might prefer 36. And here she met a full reward of all Those nights and dayes which in that place she spent Her Fastings now turn d to a Festivall Her longing Prayers which unto Heav'n she sent To pull it down now found it ready here For in the Infants Face it did appear 37. So cleerly it appear'd that She could not Restrain her Tongue from being Trumper to The Dawne of its convincing Brightnesse but Through Salems longest thickest Streets did goe Spreading her Proclamation to each Eare And Heart which long'd that heav'nly News to hear 38. This call'd so many wondering Eyes to gaze Upon the Mother and her fairer Son That from the glory of that populous Place To poor and private Nazaret she did run Where in her humble House she hop'd to hide Her humbler Selfe from Honours growing Tide 39. But Honour loves to scorn the Zealous Chase Of most ambitious eager Hunters and Pursues those modest Soules from place to place By whom she sees her orient Presence shunn'd Nor is she e'r out-run or fails to raise Their Names with Trophies and their Brows with Bays 40. But when in Salem the great News grew hot And flam'd to Herods Court the Tyrants Breast Swell'd with new Rage for much he feared that This Fire might reach his Throne which made Him cast Deep desperate Counsells in his jealous Minde How for this Danger he some Curb might finde 41. Mean while as holy Joseph sleeping lay To gain new strength to work his Winged Friend Rouz'd up his Soul by a Celestiall Ray Bidding him his swift flight to Egypt rend For Herod now contrives to slay said He The Childe and in Him both thy Wife and Thee 42. O that my Wings might be his Chariot But This noble Favour Heav'n reserves for thee Flie then But see thy selfe thou trouble not With thy Return for when the Storm shall be Cleerly blown over I will thither come And from thy Gods own Mouth recall thee Home 43. This said his nearest way the Angel took To Heav'n and flutter'd loud as He went up The noise made Joseph start who straight awoke And look'd about But He had gain'd the Top Of heav'n and in the Sphears inclosed was E'r Josephs mortall Eye could thither passe 44. Yet by the blessed influence He behinde Had left the Saint did Him intirely Know The priviledg'd Eyes of his religious Minde Had long acquainted been with him and now He doubts not but this was his Guardian who Had taught him oft what He instraits should doe 45. Whil'st by her sable Curtains Night as yet Muffled up Heav'n and kept the World in Bed Himselfe He dressed and made all things fit For his long journey On the Asse He spred His Coverlet and his own Pillow sweet And cleanly Hay he gave him for his meat 46. The Beast thus baited He his Axe his Saws His Planes Rules Mallets and his other Store Of busie honest Implements bestows In his large Bag the Treasury of his poor Industricus subsistance which he ties Fast to his Staffe and on his Shoulders tries 47. Two Bottles then all that the poor Man had Fresh filled at a neighbour Fountain He Puts on his Girdle with three Loaves of bread In a plain Pouch Then stepping reverently Unto the Bed where the great Mother lay Arise said He for Heav'n calls Us away 48. When She the bus'nesse heard and saw how He Had all things ready for their journey made Far be it she repli'd that I should be At any houre to follow Heav'n afraid Or that I for the Mornings light should tarry Who in my Arms my fairer Day doe carry 49. I can be no where lost deare Babe whil'st I Travell with Thee who never canst depart From thine own Home Wherever Thou dost flie Thine own Land still will meet Thee for thou art By thine eternall Right the Prince as well Of Ham and Egypt as of Israel 50. Arabia's Devotion has long since Supplid thee with this sacred Treasure to Defray thy Charges Thine own Providence Thy Purveyer was Thou knew'st we were to goe And hast layd in Provision e'r wee Could dream of any such Necessity 51. And yet Necessity is no such thing To mighty Thee whose all-commanding Hand Doth hold the Reins of Fate the bloody King Musters his Wrath in vain would'st thou with-stand His Spight in open Field But thou know'st why It will be now more glorious to File 52. This Journey 's but a step to Thee who from The Pinnacle of all Sublimity Thy Fathers bosome did'st a Pilgrim come And take up thy abode in worthlesse Me Me who from Heav'n much further distant am Than Memphis is from fair Jerusalem 53. With that She wrapp'd the Infant close and took The Asses back whose bridle
Thousands at his Heels which might assist His Wills Carreir Might his Designe not be True to our Fears And must He be dismist Dismisse Him If you will yet know that We Must hold you then for Caesars Enemie 239. Pilate had with their Malice grappled long But now his Place and Credit lay at stake He who before was so upright and strong Degenerously turn'd Unjust and Weak Firm stood his Chair upon the Pavement but His Heart and Conscience soone fell flat on it 240. For as He'ginns to name their King again Away with him they Crie We have no King But Caesar Caesar over Us shall reign And He alone As for this Cursed Thing 'T is more than time that to his Cross He goe And every one that is his Favourer too 241. Alas this Blast did on his faint Breast did blow So thick a Storm of Ielousie and Dread That now he fancied all the Town did draw Their mutinous Swords against his single Head And that the Priests had with their specious Lie Dispatched unto Rome an Embassie 242. Thus toss'd and baited by the Tempest He His Faith and Truth the dearest Wares he had Throws over bord and to their Crueltie Joyns his Consent which yet appear d so mad And full of foul and odious horror that He calls for Water to wash off its Blott 243. Why dost thou ravish Foolish Hypocrite The virgin Nymph What Water wilt thou get To wash this clean which cannot make Thee white But onely is by this thy Touching it For ever made impure Should all the Sea Flow on thy Hands they still would Bloody be 244. The Leopards Spots which fix their Feet so sure Upon his skin shall sooner melt away The AEthiop's Face shall sooner learn a Cure And turn its swarthy Night to beauteous day The Ravens with Swans in White shall sooner vie Than thou be purg'd from thy ingrained die 245. Yet Pilate flatter'd by his own Device Will needs be dabbling in the Water and Behold ye Priests and People all he cries Of Iesu's Blood I wash my guiltlesse Hand Although my Tongue the sentence passe yet ye Extorted it and yours the Act shall be 246. Content said They since you will have no share Ours let the Actions Glorie wholly be Both Heav'n and Earth will thank us for our Care And Caesar praise our zealous Loyaltie So will your self when you have weighed well What kinde of Monster you have sent to Hell 247. As for his Blood which frights your timorous Hand It is to us the Brightest Paint of Gloxie And will to all Successions commend Our pious Loyall Resolutions Storie For our ambitious Wish it is that It May On Heads and on our Children sit 248. Unhappy Wish had this been rightly fram'd No Prayer had flam'd with purer Piety Nor pull'd more Blessings down then would have streamd In this rich Blood upon Them all But see The fatall Power of Malice which can thus Make Zeals sweet Dialect turn venomous 249. For'twas not long e'r Titus came to poure This Blood upon Them and their Wish fulfill Them and their Seed its Streams did then devour With such full Veng'ance did the Torrent swell Their Town and Temple too this Deluge found Which in their Wishes Surplusage were drown'd 250. For never yet did Warr so riot in The Blood of any helplesse Wights as here Nor fatall Misery hunt out any Sin With so seveer a Quest as that So 〈◊〉 They found their Wish and bloody Exclamation Which prov'd the funerall Knell to all their Nation 251. And now the Judge within whose Breast the fear Of Men vile Men more than of God did reign Those Bonds of generous Right himselfe did tear From which he woo'd the People to refrain And gives his owne unhappy tongue the Lie Iudging the Lord of Innocence to die 252. O monstrous sentence were the fell Decrees Which ever yet from Tyrants Mouths did breake With the Descriptions of their Cruelties All writ in one black Roll they would not make So hideous a show as this alone Of Barbarousnesse the dire Perfection 253. All Injuries in this triumphant are Being skrued to the highest pitch of Spight Injustice but a Suckling was till heer She on the sudden grew to her full height Herod had nurs'd her well but Pilate now With the Iews help taught her compleat to grow 254. For could Hell mould so horrible a Doome As might send every Infant who did see Lifes morning Light strait from his Mothers Wombe To his Death 's Ev'n that Sentence yet would be Lesse barbarous than this which doth at once Condemne more than the whole Worlds Innocence 255. Alas unfortunate Pilate how hast Thou Condemn'd thy Self whilst Thou didst sentence Him The time draws nie when Caius will not know Thee for a Freind of Caesars Thy Esteem And Office too unto their Evening draw And foure Years more will make Thee feel the Law 256. The Law of Bannishment when France shall see Thee to Vienna ti'd that fatall place Where Hell shall to thy Soule displayed be And thy black Conscience warr against thy face Mustring the Guilt of this unhappy Day Before thine Eyes in terrible Array 257. There thy wives message shall again resound And sting thine heart thine own Professions there Of Jesu's innocence shall all rebound Upon thy breast and thy foule bosome tear There shall that water bubble up and boile Upon thine Hands which did its streams defile 258. There shall thy whips their lashes turn on thee There shall the thorns grow thick upon thy Head There shall the Buffettings and Mockings be Unto 〈◊〉 self in fail tale numbered There 〈◊〉 prodigious sentence back shall flie And point out Pilate as one fit to die 259. Then shall the cruel Crosse the Nailes the Spear Walk through thy thoughts and murder thee alive Till Crucifi'd by thine own fatall fear Thine hand due vengeance to thy self shall give And from thy Hell above by cursed death Send thy dispairing soule to Hell beneath 260. So shall thine hand thou thoughtst thou washst so white 〈◊〉 imbru'd in thine own horrid gore 〈◊〉 to all following Judges write Of what sure vengeance righteous Heav'n doth poure On them who warp Laws rule to Peoples lust And make the throne of Justice be unjust 261. But when the Lamb of Heav'n was sentenc'd thus Unto the Shambles Streit upon their prey The rampant Soldiers fly His gorgeous Attire they from him snatch and him array In his own simple fleece yet suffer still The torturing thorns upon his head to dwell 262. This rubb'd and wounded all those Wounds again In which the clotted blood began to rest This op'd the weary Mouth of every vein As if it would have had them now confest The utmost drop they knew yet though this loss Went deep they kept enough to paint the Cross. 263. 〈◊〉 delay then unto Calvarie 〈◊〉 hurry Him ev'n though their Senates Law 〈◊〉 that no Execution be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 by ten dayes Thoughts the Judge
About them hither made a journey and Full in thy Spouse's face took up her Stand. 368. Lesse Terror from the Vulturs count'nance breaks When she her Tallons claps upon her Prey Lesse from the irefull High-priest when he takes His Cursing Aime at Jesus than to day Flash'd from this cruel Mayd in whose fell look Her dismal throne accomplish'd Veng'ance took 369. Immortal Dread star'd wide in either Eye Her forehead was plow'd up with furrows deep Sown with the Seeds of all Severity Which now for Jesus were grown fit to reap Her Lips were Fire her Cheeks were burning red And for a Tongue a flaming Sword she had 370. She never in such horrible Array Appear d till now on Earth not when she came With Water arm'd to wash the World away Or unto Sodome with a Flood of Flame Or when her fiery Serpents she did bring The Israelites Rebellion to sting 371. A Veil so hideously black that Night Is a 〈◊〉 beauteous thing to it Over her head was spred which though Day-light Were now at Liberty would not permit The stoutest Mortals sin-condemned Eyes Ever to reach the Comfortable Skies 372. On either side ten thousand Furies were With Millions of Pangs and Ejulations Woefull Eternity was also there Hugging each Horror Troops of Desperations Raving and riotting in their own Blood In the vast Armies Rear behinde Her stood 373. But in her Hand a sable Book she held Which now She opened unto Jesu's eyes When loe each dreadfull Page appeared fill'd With more intolerable Prodigies Than those transcendent Monstrous Shapes which were Marshall'd in her Hell-representing Rear 374. There that Rebellion painted was which grew In Paradise so huge and rank a Weed That it none but the World 's own Limits knew For through all Generations its Seed It scattered and made each poisnous Birth Bring full Assurance of its own Death forth 375. The Serpent which in Eden planted it Wears not such fatal Horror in his Face Nor stings so deep nor doth his Venome spit So far and wide nor e'r attended was With such a numerous Frie of Devills as this Old Beldame Sin by young Ones followed is 376. This was the fearfull Frontispice But now The cursed Leaves She opened one by one Pride had usurp'd the first and there did show Her swolln and blister'd Count'nance which did run With banefull Matter being bruised by A Fall she caught as she was climbing high 377. The next was Spight broad War close Calumnie Then Avarice besmeard with knawing Rust And putid Lying and foule Treachery With sneaking Theft and everstinging Lust Intemperance wallowing in a nastie Flood Of Vomit Murder in a Sea of Blood 378. That selfe-relying heav'n-distrusting Thing Foolish base-hearted Infidelity Grinding Extortion and self-torturing Because for ever jealous Tyranny Enchanting Error venomous Heresie Idolatry and right-down Blasphemy 379. But for their number it exceeds the skill Of Computation and all Figures reach Not all the Sparks whose glistering Armies fill The field of Heav'n not all the Atomes which Traffick about the Summer Air can tell Their mighty Total how to parallel 380. For each dwarf Fault and Gyant Crime did stand In martiall rank and file arrayed there Which any Humane Tongue or Heart or Hand Was ever stained with since Eve gave Eare Unto the charming Tempter and let in The fatal Torrent of contagious Sin 381. Nay more than so for every Stain and Blot Which through all Ages to the end of Time Shall taint the World Justice had thither got And in a black Appendix marshall'd them Thy proud Revolt and every Fault beside Psyche were there displayed full and wide 382. And if the least of Crimes as sure it is Be infinitely foule imagine then How strange a Masse of horridnesse was this Whose bulk did swell with all the Sins of Men What store of black 〈◊〉 were here For bleeding Jesus wounded Back to beat 383. For Justice heap'd them all upon his back That hee who did no sin might suffer all How would the Worlds establish d Pillars crack Should such a Load upon their shoulders fall How would the al-supporting centre faint And strive to shrink into a smaller point 384. How would the joynts of noblest Seraphs quake How would the Cherubs sinnews tremble at This Burden which all Natures Bones would break And lay Heav'ns highest stoutest Powers flat This Burden which all humane Soules would press Down to that bottom which is bottomlesse 385. Now Jesus groans and feels his heart-strings stretch For black upon his Soule the burden lies Those other torments hee forgetteth which The whips and nails and Jewish blasphemies Had multipli'd on him Thus rivers be Quite lost when swallow'd by the bitter Sea 386. Should all the tortures that did ever yet The Veins and Joints and Hearts of Martyrs tear In one fell Composition bee knit And then enraged to their full carrieer Lesse furious would their fury be than that Which now on Jesu's Soule in triumph sate 387. Some comfort it would be if Heav'n would now Vouchsafe a gentle looke upon its Son Who spies no consolations glimpse below But ô the sphears are not eclips'd alone By Phoebus absence no another Night Has thrown its Veil upon Heav'ns dearer Light 388. The Light which from his Fathers pleased eyes His whole Soule us'd to drink its streams did hide With earnest labouring looks he pleads and pries But is by sad obscuritie deny'd O blacknesse which no Parallel canst know To thee all Ink as Milk all Pitch is Snow 389. Long did he grapple which this mighty grief In patient silence But his Soule at length Snatching at least the desolate reliefe Of free complayning with the wofull strength Of his sad tongue this out-cry He did make My God my God why dost thou me forsake 390. Am I not still that Son in whom alone Thou wert wel-pleas'd Is not thy bosome still The same where once my habitation I did enjoy Why dost thou me expell Who am the image of thy blessed face From the least sight of its all-sweetning grace 391. Had every outcry every groan and shreik With which the air of Bethlehem was rent When Rachel saw how all the street did reek With an unheard of flood of innocent And infant blood met in one ejulation It s fragor had not match'd this exclamation 392. Never was such a Lamentable cry Wrung from the mouth of Griefe nor ever was Complaint more unregarded Clemencie Was deaf and Heav'n as well as Earth did pass By without any Bowels Never day Did such a Sceen of heavines display 393. Sorrow her self amazed at the sight Would have repented of her Tyranny But Jesus meant not to decline the fight Who could not conquer'd be though He could die O no He hugs his horrors and although His nature shrinks his courage loves his woe 394. Thus gallant Souldiers ' in the dreadfull wars With generous Pride their gushing blood behold Counting their glories onely by their scars And judging all their