sacred Misteries whose eternall praise Shall make both Angells and Archangells raise Their louder voices and in triumph sing All Glory and Honour to our highest King And to the Lambe that sits upon the throne Worthy of power and praise is he alone Whose glory hath advanc'd our key of mirth Glory to God on high and peace on Earth SECT 10. ARGVMENT The Bridegroome at his nuptiall Feast To the Philistians doth propound A Riddle which they all addrest Themselves in counsell to expound NOw when the glory of the next dayes light Had chas'd the shadows of the tedious night When coupling Hymen with his nuptiall bands And golden Fetters had conjoyn'd their hands When jolly welcome had to every Guest Expos'd the bounty of the mariage Feast Their now appeased stomacks did enlarge Their captive tongues with power to discharge And quit their Table-duty and disburse Their store of enterchangeable discourse Th' ingenious Bridegroome turn'd his rolling eyes Vpon his guard of Bridemen and applies His speech to them And whilst that every man Lent his attentive eare he thus began My tongue 's in labour and my thoughts abound I have a doubtfull Riddle to propound MEDITAT 10. THere is a time to laugh A time to turne Our smiles to teares There is a time to mourne There is a time for joy and a time for griefe A time to want and a time to finde reliefe A time to binde and there 's a time to breake A time for silence and a time to speake A time to labour and a time to rest A time to fast in and a time to feast Things that are lawfull haue their times and use Created good and onely by abuse Made bad Our sinfull usage does unfashion What heaven hath made and makes a new creation Ioy is a blessing but too great excesse Makes Ioy a Madnesse and does quite unblesse So sweet a gift And what by moderate use Crownes our desiers banes them in th' abuse Wealth is a blessing But too eager thurst Of having more makes what we have accurst Rest is a blessing But when Rest withstands The healthfull labour of our helpfull hands It proves a curse and staines our guilt with crime Betraies our irrecoverable time To feast and to refresh our hearts with pleasure And fill our soules with th' overflowing measure Of heavens blest bounty cannot but commend The pretious favours of so sweet a friend But when th' abundance of a liberall diet Meant for a blessing is abus'd by Riot Th' abused blessing leaves the gift nay worse It is transform'd and turn'd into a curse Things that afford most pleasure in the use Are ever found most harmfull in th' abuse Vse them like Masters and their tyrannous hand Subjects thee like a slave to their command Vse them as Servants and they will obey thee Take heed They 'l eyther blesse thee or betray thee Could our Fore-fathers but revive and see Their Childrens Feasts as now a dayes they be Their studyed dishes Their restoring stuffe To make their wanton bodies sinne enough Their stomacke-whetting Sallats to invite Their wastfull palats to an appetite Their thirst-procuring dainties to refine Their wanton tastes and make them strong for wine Their costly viands charg'd with rich perfume Their Viper-wines to make old age presume To feele new lust and youthfull flames agin And serve another prentiship to sinne Their time-betraying Musicke their base noise Of odious Fidlers with their smooth-fac'd boyes Whose tongues are perfect if they can proclame The Quintessence of basenesse without shame Their deepe mouth'd curses New invented Oathes Their execrable Blasphemy that loathes A minde to thinke on Their obsceaner words Their drunken Quarrells Their unsheathed swords O how they 'd blesse themselves and blush for shame In our behalfs and hast from whence they came To kisse their graves that hid them from the crimes Of these accursed and prodigious times Great God O can thy patient eye behold This height of sinne and can thy Vengeance hold SECT 11. ARGVMENT The Philistins cannot unsolve The Riddle They corrupt the Bride She wooes her Bridegroome to resolve Her doubt but goes away denyde NOw when three dayes had run their howers out And left no hope for wit-forsaken doubt To be resolv'd the desp'rate undertakers Conjoyn'd their whispring heads being all partakers And joynt-advisers in their new-laid plot The time 's concluded Have yee not forgot How the old Tempter when he first began To worke th' unhappy overthrow of man Accosts the simple woman and reflects Vpon the frailty of her weaker Sex Even so these curs'd Philistians being taught And tutord by the selfe same spirit wrought The selfe same way Their speedy steps are bent To the faire Bride Their hast could giue no vent To their coarcted thoughts their language made A little respite and at length they said Fairest of Creatures Let thy gentle heart Receive the crowne due to so faire desert We have a Suit that must attend the leisure Of thy best thoughts and joy-restoring pleasure Our names and credits linger at the stake Of deepe dishonour If thou undertake With pleasing language to prevent the losse They must sustaine and draw them from the drosse Of their owne ruines they shall meerely owe Themselves unto thy goodnesse and shall know No other patron and acknowledge none As their redeemer but thy love alone We cannot read the Riddle where unto We have engag'd our goods and credits too Entice thy jolly Bridgroome to unfold The hidden Myst'ry what can he withhold From the rare beauty of so faire a brow And when thou knowst it let thy servants know What dost thou frowne And must our easie tryall At first reade Hieroglyphickes of deniall And art thou silent too Nay wee 'l give ore To tempt thy bridall fondnesse any more Betray your lovely husbands secrets No You 'l first betray us and our Land But know Proud Samsons wife our furies shall make good Our losse of wealth and honour in thy blood Where faire entreaties spend themselves in vaine There fier shall consume or else constraine Know then false hearted Bride if our request Can find no place within thy sullen brest Our hands shall vindicate our lost desire And burne thy Fathers house and thee with fire Thus having lodg'd their errand in her eares They left the roome and her unto her feares Who thus bethought Hard is the case that I Must or betray my husbands trust or dye I have a Wolfe by th' eares I dare be bold Neither with safety to let goe nor hold What shall I doe Their minds if I fulfill not 'T is death And to betray his trust I will not Nay should my lips demand perchance his breath Will not resolve me Then no way but death The wager is not great Rather the strife Were ended in his losse then in my life His life consists in mine If ought amisse Befall my life it may endanger his Wagers must yeeld to life I hold it best
THE HISTORIE OF SAMSON Written By FRA QVARLES LONDON Printed by M. F. for IOHN MARRIOTT in S. Dunstans Church-yard in Fleetstreet 1631. for the time but quickly leaves us to our former darknesse The overtaken Lanthorne is the true Friend which though it promise but a faint light yet it goes along with us as farre as it can towards our Journies end The offered Linke is the mercenary Friend which though it be ready enough to doe us service yet that service hath a servile relation to our bountie Sir in the middle ranke I finde you hating the first and scorning the last to whom in the height of my undissembled assection and unfained thankfulnes I commend my selfe and this booke to receive an equall censure from your uncorrupted judgement In the Bud it was yours it blossomd yours and now your favour able acceptance confirmes the fruit yours All I crave is that you would be pleased to interpret these my intentions to proceed from an ardent desire that hath long beene in labour to expresse the true affections of him That holds it an honor to honor you FRA QVARLES TO THE READER THE tyranny of my Affaires was never yet so imperious but I could steale some howers to my private Meditations the fruits of which stolne time I here present thee with in the History of Samson Wherein if thy extreme severity checke at any thing which thou conceivest may not stand with the majesty of this sacred Subject know that my intention was not to offend my brother The wisest of Kings inspired by the King of Wisedome thought it no detraction from the gravity of his Holy Proverbs to describe a Harlot like a Harlot Her whorish Attire her immodest Gesture her bold Countenance her flattring Tongue her lascivious Embraces her unchast Kisses her impudent Invitations If my descriptions in the like kinde offend I make no question but the validitie of my Warrant will give a reasonable satisfaction Hee that lifts not his feet high enough may easily stumble But on the contrary If any be whose worse then Sacrilegious mindes shall prophane our harmelesse intentions with wanton conceits to such I heartily wish a Procul ite Let none such looke farther then this Epistle at their owne perils If they doe let them put off their shooes for this is holy Ground Foule hands will muddle the clearest waters and base mindes will corrupt the purest Text If any offence be taken it is by way of stealth for there is none willingly given I write to Bees and not to Spiders They will suck pleasing hony from such flowers These may burst with their owne poyson But you whose well-seasond hearts are not distempered with either of these extremities but have the better rellish of a Sacred understanding draw neere and reade I Sing th' illustrious and renowned story Of mighty Samson The eternall glory Of his Heroicke acts His life His death Quicken my Muse with thy diviner breath Great God of Muses that my prosp'rous rimes May live and last to everlasting times That they unborne may in this sacred story Admire thy goodnes and advance thy glory THE HISTORIE OF SAMSON SECT 1. ARGVMENT A holy Angell doth salute The wife of Manoah and inlarge Her barren wombe with promis'd fruit Of both their loynes The Angels charge WIthin the Tents of Zorah dwelt a man Of Iacobs seed and of the Tribe of Dan Knowne by the name of Manoah to whom Heaven had deni'd the treasure of the wombe His Wife was barren And her prayres could not Remove that great reproach or clense that blot Which on her fruitless name appear'd so foule Not to encrease the Tribe of Dan one soule Long had she doubtles stroven with heaven by prayres Made strong with teares and sighes Hopes and despaires No doubt had often tortur'd her desire Vpon a Rock compos'd of frost and fire But Heaven was pleas'd to turne His deafned eares Against those prayres made strong with sighes and teares She often praid but prayres could not obtaine Alas she pray'd she wept she sigh'd in vaine She pray'd no doubt but prayres could finde no roome They proov'd alas as barren as her wombe Vpon a time when her unanswer'd prayre Had now given just occasion of despaire Even when her bedrid faith was growne so fraile That very Hope grew heartlesse to prevaile Appear'dan Angel to her In his face Terrour and sweetnesse labour'd for the place Sometimes his Sun-bright eyes would shine so fierce As if their pointed beames would even pierce Her soule and strike th' amaz'd beholder dead Sometimes their glory would dispeirce and spread More easie flames and like the Starre that stood O're Bethlem promise and portend some good Mixt was his bright aspect as if his breath Had equall errands both of life and death Glory and Mildnesse seemed to contend In his fayre eyes so long till in the end In glorious mildnesse and in milder glory He thus salutes her with this pleasing story Woman Heaven greets thee well Rise up and feare not Forbeare thy faithlesse tremblings I appeare not Clad in the vestments of consuming fire Cheare up I have no warrant to enquire Into thy sinnes I have no Vyals here Nor dreadfull Thunderbolts to make thee feare I have no plagues t' inflict nor is my breath Charg'd with destruction or my hand with death No no cheare up I come not to destroy I come to bring thee tydings of great joy Rowze up thy dull beliefe for I appeare To exercise thy Faith and not thy Feare The Guide and great Creator of all things Chiefe Lord of Lords and supreame King of Kings To whom an Host of men are but a swarme Of murmring Gnats whose high prevayling arme Can crush ten thousand worlds and at one blow Can strike the earth to nothing and ore-throw The Losts of Heaven he that hath the keyes Of wombes to shut and ope them when he please He that can all things that he will this day Is pleas'd to take thy long reproach away Behold thy wombe's inlarg'd and thy desires Shall finde successe Before long time expires Thou shalt conceive Eretwise five months be runne Be thou the joyfull mother ef a sonne But see thy wary palate doe forbeare The juyce of the bewitching Grape Beware Lest thy desires tempt thy lips to wine Which must be faithfull strangers to the Vine Strong drinke thou must not tast and all such meate The Law proclaimes uncleane refraine to eate And when the fruit of thy restored wombe Shall see the light take heed no Rasor come Vpon his fruitfull head For from his birth Soone as the wombe entrusts him on the earth The child shall be a Nazarite to God By whose appointment he shall prove a Rod To scourge the proud Philistians and recall Poore suffring Israel from their slavish thrall MEDITAT 1. HOw impudent is Nature to account Those acts her owne that doe so farre surmount Her easie reach How purblind are those eyes Of stupid mortalls that
Crowne Yet Man O most ungratefull Man can ever Enjoy the Gift but never minde the Giver And like the Swine though pamper'd with enough His eyes are never higher then the Trough We still receive Our hearts we seldome lift To heaven But drowne the giver in the Gift We tast the Skollops and returne the Shells Our sweet Pomgranats want their silver Bells We take the Gift the hand that did present it We oft reward forget the Friend that sent it A blessing given to those will not disburse Some thanks is little better then a curse Great giver of all blessngs thou that art The Lord of Gifts give me a gratefull heart O give me that or keepe thy favours from me I wish no blessings with a Vengeance to me SECT 6. ARGVMENT Affrighted Manoah and his wife Both prostrate on the naked earth Both rise The man despaires of life The woman cheares him Samsons birth VVHen time whose progresse moderates and outweares Th' extreamest passions of the highest Feares By his benignant power had reinlarg'd Their captive senses and at length discharg'd Their frighted thoughts the trembling Couple rose From their unquiet and disturb'd repose Have you beheld a Tempest how the waves Whose unresisted Tyranny out-braves And threats to grapple with the darkned Skies How like to moving Mountaines they arise From their distempred Ocean and assaile Heavens Battlements nay when the windes doe faile To breathe another blast with their owne motion They still are swelling and disturbe the Ocean Even so the Danite and his trembling wife Their yet confused thoughts are still at strife In their perplexed brests which entertain'd Continued feares too strong to be refrain'd Speechlesse they stood till Manoah that brake The silence first disclos'd his lips and spake What strange aspect was this that to our sight Appear'd so terrible and did affright Our scattering thoughts What did our eyes behold I feare our lavish tongues have bin too bold What speeches past betweene us Can'st recall The words we entertain'd the time withall It was no man It was no flesh and blood Me thought mine eares did tingle while he stood And commun'd with me At each word he spake Me thought my heart recoil'd his voice did shake My very Soule but when as he became So angry and so dainty of his name O how my wonder-smitten heart began To faile O then I knew it was no man No no It was the face of God Our eyes Have seene his face who ever saw 't but dies We are but dead Death dwells within his eye And we have seen 't and we shall surely die Where to the woman who did either hide Or else had over come her feares replide Despairing Man take courage and forheare These false predictions there 's no cause of feare Would Heaven accept our offerings and receive Our holy things and after that bereive His servants of their lives Can he be thus Pleas'd with our offerings unappear'd with us Hath he not promis'd that the time shall come Wherein the fruits of my restored wombe Shall make thee Father to a hopefull Sonne Can Heaven be false Or can these things be done When we are dead No no His holy breath Had spent in vaine if he had ment our death Recall thy needlesse feares Heaven cannot lye Although we saw his face we shall not dye So said they brake off their discourse and went He to the field and she into her Tent Thrice forty dayes not full compleate being come Within th' enclosure of her quickned wombe The babe began to spring and with his motion Confirm'd the faith and quickned the devotion Ofhis believing parents whose devout And heaven-ascending Orizans no doubt Were turn'd to thankes and heart-rejoycing praise To holy Hymnes and heavenly Roundelaies The child growes sturdy Every day gives strength Vnto his wombe fed limmes till at the length Th' apparant mother having past the date Of her accoumpt does onely now awaite The happy houre wherein she may obtaine Her greatest pleasure with her greatest paine When as the faire directresse of the night Had thrice three times repair'd her wained light Her wombe no longer able to retaine So great a guest betrai'd her to her paine And for the toilesome worke that she had done She found the wages of a new borne Sonne Samson she call'd his name The childe encreast And hourely suckt a blessing with the brest Daily his strength did double He began To grow in favour both with God and Man His well attended Infancie was blest With sweetnesse in his Childhood he exprest True seeds of Honour and his youth was crown'd With high and brave adventures which renown'd His honour'd name His courage was supplide With mighty strength His haughty spirit defide An hoast of men His power had the praise 'Bove all that were before or since his dayes And to conclude Heav'n never yet conjoin'd So strong a body with so stout a minde MEDITAT 6. HOw pretious were those blessed dayes wherein Soules never startled at the name of Sin When as the voyce of Death had never yet A mouth to open or to clame a debt When bashfull nakednesse forbare to call For needlesse skinns to cover Shame withall When as the fruit-encreasing earth obay'd The will of Man without the wound of Spaide Or helpe of Art When he that now remaines A cursed Captive to infernall chaines Sate singing Anthems in the heavenly Quire Among his fellow Angells When the Bryer The fruitlesse Bramble the fast growing weed And downie Thistle had as yet no seed When labour was not knowne and man did eate The earths faire fruits unearned with his sweate When wombes might have conceiv'd without the staine Of sinne and brought forth children without paine When Heaven could speake to mans unfrighted care Without the sense of sin-begotten feare How golden were those dayes How happy than Was the condition and the State of man But Man obay'd not And his proud desire Cing'd her bold feathers in forbidden fier But Man transgrest And now his freedome feeles A sudden change Sinne followes at his heeles The voice calls Adam But poore Adam flees And trembling hides his face behind the trees The voice whilere that ravisht with delight His joyfull eare does now alas affright His wounded conscience with amaze and wonder And what of late was musicke now is Thunder How have our sinnes abus'd us and betrai'd Our desperate soules What strangenesse have they made Betwixt the great Creator and the worke Of his owne hands How closely doe they lurke To our distempred soules and whisper feares And doubts into our frighted hearts and eares Our eyes cannot behold that glorious face Which is all life unruin'd in the place How is our natures chang'd That very breath Which gave us being is become our death Great God! O whither shall poore mortalls flie For comfort If they see thy face they dye And if thy life-restoring count'nance give Thy presence from us then we cannot live How necessary
a full ag'd Lyon who had sought But could not finde his long desired prey Soone as his eye had given him hopes to pay His debt to nature and to mend that fault His empty stomacke found he made assault Vpon th' unarmed lovers brest whose hand Had neither staffe nor weapon to withstand His greedy rage but he whose mighty strength Or sudden death must now appeare at length Stretcht forth his brawny arme his arme supplide With power from heaven and did with ease divide His body limme from limme and did betray His Flesh to foules that lately sought his prey This done his quicke redoubled paces make His stay amends his nimble steps oretake His leading parents who by this discover The smoake of Timnah Now the greedy Lover Thinkes every step a mile and every pace A measur'd League untill he see that face And finde the treasure of his heart that lies In the faire Casket of his Mistresse Eyes But all this while close Samson made not knowne Vnto his parents what his hands had done By this the gate of Timnah entertaines The welcome travellers The parents paines Are now rewarded with their sonnes best pleasure The Virgin comes His eyes can finde no leasure To owne another object O the greeting Th' impatient lovers had at their first meeting The Lover speakes She answers He replies She blushes He demandeth She denyes He pleads affection She doubts Hee sues For nuptiall love She questions Hee renewes His earnest suite Importunes She relents He must have no deniall She consents They passe their mutuall loves Their joyned hands Are equall earnests of the nuptiall bands The parents are agreed All parties pleas'd The day 's set downe the lovers hearts are eas'd Nothing displeases now but the long stay Betwixt th' appointment and the mariage day MEDITAT 8. T Is too severe a censure If the Sonne Take him a wife the mariage fairely done Without consent of parents who perchance Had rais'd his higher price knew where t' advance His better'd fortunes to one hundred more He lives a Fornicator She a Whore Too hard a censure And it seemes to me The parent's most delinquent of the three What if the better minded Son doe aime At worth What if rare vertues doe inflame His rapt affection What if the condition Of an admir'd and dainty disposition Hath won his soule Where as the covetous Father Findes her Gold light and recommends him rather T' an old worne widow whose more weighty purse Is fill'd with gold and with the Orphans curse The sweet exubrance of whose full-mouth'd portion Is but the cursed issue of extortion Whose worth perchance lies onely in her weight Or in the bosome of her great estate What if the Sonne that does not care to buy Abundance at so deare a rate deny The soule-detesting profer of his Father And in his better judgement chooses rather To match with meaner Fortunes and desert I thinke that Mary chose the better part What noble Families that have out growne The best records have quite binoverthrowne By wilfull parents that will either force Their sonnes to match or haunt them with a curse That can adapt their humours to rejoyce And fancy all things but their childrens choice Which makes them often timerous to reveale The close desiers of their hearts and steale Such matches as perchance their faire advice Might in the bud have hindred in a trice Which done and past O then their hastie spirit Can thinke of nothing under Disinherit He must be quite discarded and exilde The furious father must renounce his childe Nor Prayre nor Blessing must he have bereiven Of all Nor must he live nor die forgiven When as the Fathers rashnesse often times Was the first causer of the Childrens crimes Parents be not too cruell Children doe Things oft too deepe for us t' enquire into What father would not siorme if his wild Sonne Should doe the deed that Samson here had done Nor doe I make it an exemplar act Only let parents not be too exact To curse their children or to dispossesse Them of their blessings Heaven may chance to blesse Be not too strict Faire language may recure A fault of youth whilst rougher words obdure SECT 9. ARGVMENT Samson goes downe to celebrate His mariage and his nuptiall feast The Lyon which he slue of late Hath hony in his putrid brest WHen as the long expected time was come Wherein these lingring Lovers should consumme The promis'd mariage and observe therites Pertaining to those festivall delights Samson went downe to Timnah there t' enjoy The sweet possession of his dearest joy But as he past those fruitfull Vineyards where His hands of late acquit him of that feare Wherewith the feirce assaulting Lyon quail'd His yet unpractis'd courage and prevail'd Vpon his life as by that place he past He turn'd aside and borrowed of his hast A little time wherein his eyes might view The Carkas of the Lyon which he flew But when his wandring footsteps had drawne neere The unlamented herse his wandring eare MEDITAT 9. HOw high unutterable how profound Whose depth the line of knowledge cannot sound Are the decrees of the Eternall God! How secret are his wayes and how untrod By mans conceipt so deeply charg'd with doubt How are his Counsells past our finding out O how unscrutable are his designes How deepe and how unsearchable are the Mines Of his abundant Wisedome How obscure Are his eternall Iudgements and how sure Lists he to strike The very Stones shall flie From their unmov'd Foundations and destroy Lists he to punish Things that haue no sense Shall vindicate his Quarrell on th' Offence Lists he to send a plague The winters heate And summers damp shall make his will compleate Lists he to send the Sword Occasion brings New Iealousies betwixt the hearts of Kings Wills he afamine Heaven shall turne to brasse And earth to Iron till it come to passe With stockes and stones and plants and beasts fulfill The secret Counsell of his sacred will Man onely wretched Man is disagreeing To doe that thing for which he hath his being Samson must downe to Timnah In the way Must meete a Lyon whom his hands must slay The Lyo'ns putrid Carkas must enclose A swarme of Bees and from the Bees arose A Riddle and that Riddle must be read And by the reading Choller must be bred And that must bring to passe Gods just designes Vpon the death of the false Philistines Behold the progresse and the royall Gests Of Heavens high vengeance how it never rests Till by appointed courses it fufill The secret pleasure of his sacred will Great Saviour of the world Thou Lambe of Sion That hides our sinnes Thou art that wounded Lyon O in thy dying body we have found A world of hony whence we may propound Such sacred Riddles as shall underneath Our feet subdue the power of Hell and Death Such Misteries as none but he that plough'd With thy sweet Hayfer's able to uncloud Such