CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY _ Cornell University Library PR2214.B14F7 Four poems from "Zion's flowers"; edific 3 1924 013 117 928 The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013117928 Iflpl s^^^^^B^m II 'VI ill ''mm /) i) iii'iiiiMBi 'Bgir 1 1. 'ii :;'S«iii|«^^^^^^^^ »il/' ,''""'|VI i( I I i((W/Wli/(d, FOUE POEMS "ZION'S FLOWERS;" OK, "dS^xi^tim ^oews fov Spiritual IBtftfication." By MR. ZACHARIE^OYD, MINISTER OF CHBYSTIS KIRK, AND EVANGEL AT THE BARONIE OF OLASGOW. PRINTED FROM HIS lifANUSCRIPT IN THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF GLASGOW. WITH AN INTRODUCTION CONTAINING SOME NOTICES OF HIS LIFE AND WRITINGS. EDITED BY GABRIEL NEIL. " He being dead^ yet spedheth." GLASGOW :— PRINTED BY GEORGE RICHARDSON, printtv to tit WLmhtviits. MDCCCLV. Only 400 Copies Printed. CONTENTS. INTRODUCTION. APPENDIX TO INTRODUCTION. THE HISTORIE OF JONAH. JOSEPH TEMPTED TO ADULTERY. DAVID AND GOLIAH. DINAH RAVISHED BY SHECHEM. ILLUSTRATIONS. Frontispiece — Bust in the College Court. Vignette, Title Page — Fac-simile of the Arms of Glasgow as used by Robert Sanders, Printer to the City and University anno 1 676. Fac-simile of the Manuscript of " Zion's Flowers,'' commonly called " Zachary Boyd's Bible." Fac-simile of Devices from the Author's Printed Works. INTRODUCTION. In 1831 the writer edited a reprint of " The Last Battell of the Soule in Death," published by Mr. Zacharie Boyd, 1629, to which a Biogra- phical Sketch of the Author, and an Account of his Printed and Manuscript Works, &c. were prefixed, and since that time he has received, in a variety of public notices some thanks, for having as- sisted in bringing forward a neglected Author, who had been long in many particulars most unjustly traduced. (App. Note 1,) In as far as the writer has had subsequent opportunities of observing, any new investigation into Mr. Boyd's life has additionally shewn, that in the highest sense of the phrase he was a good man, and that from his literary and ministerial qualifications he was a distinguished ornament to Glasgow more than two centuries ago, as weU as in his having been a munificent benefactor of learning through his worldly means. A degree of pleasure, nay, even of profitable improvement attaches itself, to now and then holding a little communion with one thus meriting our esteem. There is an important point specially connected with Mr, Boyd's history, ncmieh/, that at his death he left ?i large collection of Works, Printed and in Manuscript, the composition of which must have occu- pied a great portion of his time ; and the wonder is, how that, along with the discharge of his public and private duties, he had been able to accomplish so much. A view of these Works {App. Note 2,) will be sufficient to convince the most incredulous of his indefatigable INTROBUCTION. perseverance and industry, and of his having been a practical example of Solomon's words, " of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh." It is unfortunate that the Books which he published in his day, have been for an unknown course of years "out of print," or if by chance a solitary copy of any of them is now to be found, it is secured as a prize by antiquarian Bibliographers and Collectors, and a high price paid for it. {App. Note 3.) His Manuscript Works have been adjudged to the severe doom of being confined to the Library Presses of the University, accessible only to curious inquirers, and the two volumes of " Zion's Flowers," (his so called "Bible,") from their airless, quiet situation in some of their depositories, have in many pages of their matter, suf- fered from damp and decay. {App. Note 4.) It may be said upon the whole as regards the public benefit derived from his numerous Writ- ings, either Published or in Manuscript, to be much the same as if he had never penned or printed a line of them. Except for what has lately been done, and that in a very limited and fragmentary manner, his Works were in danger of having become entirely for- gotten. Thanks, however, to the antique, quaint looking bust in the College Court ; to the Portrait in the Divinity Hall, from the pencil of some excellent artist, fuU of manly expression ; to tho foundation of his three Bursaries for three Theological Students, who yet hand him down as his representatives; to his liberal deeds for aiding the construction of our venerable University buildings; and by a singular fate to the wide spread tradition of his having " rendered the whole Bible into verse," all of which, notwithstanding the want of his literary compositions, have kept alive his remembrance among us.^ As the effect of information which has been from time to time elicited, his name has at last had a place assigned to it in the " Republic of Letters," by now generally appearing in our most popular biographical collections. In the reprint of the work in 1831 referred to, a variety of "Poetical Excerpts" were given as specimens of Mr. Boyd's talents, chiefly in respect to such of his Writings as are in MS. It was at that date the intention of the writer, in preference to the "Excerpts" or Ex- tracts which were made from "Zion's Flowers," 2 vols,, 4to, to have INTRODUCTION. introduced a few complete Poems or Pieces from that Work, as affording, in the circumstances, the best data for judging of Mr. Boyd as a poet. Yielding, however, to the sentiments of some who wished to have a more enlarged view of the diversified subjects contained in the two volumes mentioned, his original design was abandoned, which has since been a. cause of considerable regret, both to others and himself. He found, indeed, that the plan he had adopted was attended with no general satisfaction. Among numerous instances which might be ad- duced, a well qualified Reviewer thus wrote — " The extracts Mr. Neil has afforded us from the poetical MSS. are not a fair criterion by which to judge of Mr. Boyd's powers as a poet, more especially when the nature of the subjects paraphrased is taken into accoimt. To do justice to the memory and merits of Boyd as a poet, some of the dramas composing " The Flowers of Zion," or Boyd's Bible, ought to be printed in whole, in order that the objects and subjects detailed and treated of, might be exhibited in the same manner that the Author himself would, no doubt, have given them to the public eye. This mode of judging of the merits of a writer whose works are so voluminous as those of Mr. Boyd, is something similar to those who would cover a picture with a curtain, and then gently raising a corner of the latter, ask us to determine upon the ingenuity and taste of the artist. We see no reason why some half dozen of the best of these dramas should not be printed for the gratification of the literary world. We are sure that the Professors of the University would do every thing in their power to further such a laudable and praise- worthy object, and the more especially since one-half of this curious work, is in such a ruinous condition as that represented by the Editor. We hope that this hint will have its due weight." Another, speaking in similar terms, concludes as follows : " We shall be glad again to find Mr. Neil bringing forward some more "old wine," {App. Note 5,) there is a store of such within the precincts of Ahna Mater, and he is a fit person to put it into bottles, and make it accept- able to many who can never hope otherwise to know or to relish its taste." Disclaiming, however, that part of the quotation, as to "the Editor's'' peculiar fitness for "old wine" bottling, but cordially joining in the appropriateness of the rest of that reviewer's suggestions, he 8 INTRODUCTION. has now thought of favouring those curious in Mr. Boyd's poetry and " the literary world," with a mere tasting of that which they have expressed themselves so anxious to obtain ; and for having detained them from the treat, with the "wine" in his bin, for the long period of twenty-four years, he would require to make some apology, were he not convinced that such will be unnecessary, the editing of old Poetry, and deciphering the musty records of bygone ages, being rather at variance with his avocations in life. In 1831, when permission was granted to the writer to wander in the untrodden garden of our Author's Muse, and to "gather" nosegays from "Zion's Flowers," the great difficulty was to know what to cull and carry home to place in his little conservatory. In that Work there was a mass before the eye of at least twenty-site thousand lines of time-worn, close Manuscript, in a character of writ- ing at present unintelligible, except to those whom people are sometimes pleased to style "black letter gentlemen." This part of the task was, however, to be overcome "by and by," (as our Author would say,) making allowances for the deficiencies of the Manuscript; {App. Note 6.) But it was not so easy to be acquitted of the other part, namely, the selection, — a process of reading, com- paring, criticising, &c., had to be set about, and the result was, in fixing on the Excerpts which were printed in 1831, and the Four Poems of the present publication. Whether the latter may be deemed the "best" selection from the two MS. volumes, some one who will take an equal trouble must answer. All that the writer can say for himself is, that he then thought it was the best, and iinder the. impression, that as the subjects of the Poems had been repeatedly taken up and discussed by the Author in his prose works, so were they likely to be the most' familiar to his imagination in his poetry. Any selection from such an extensive work as that of " Zion's Flowers " must, however, be considered unsatisfac- tory. Injustice to the Author, this Work ought to be printed in whole. It appears to be usually looked upon as his chief poetical work, and therefore entitled to a greater share of attention. For the purpose of shewing the range of its subjects as far as consistent with our limits. Fac- Simile o/tfi^ Mam.^cnp^ of "Zion's Flowers" cmirrw7iA/ ca&d '^^'■H '^S-nJ j-a-cro o ■ ^ ^ T^o- inj Jo>m>t -jbui— A-O^yo- ^-lA- ^tJct<.j» ^S-^ ^/ ^',0- ^^ «j-^ ^ V 4w-/^»7^ '^^^r^^'^^h', hoc Jlpy^/^ ^ Ji'V^ ^...^^ ^ * * ♦ INTRODUCTION. the following Abstract of tub Remainder of the Contents is ro- transcribed, and which may at the same time assist any reader in his researches who is inclined to refer to the Author's Manuscript. " Zion's Flowees, or Chkistian Poems for Spiritual Edlpic-ation, 2 vols., ito. Psal. 119, V. 54. — Thy Statutes have been my Songs in the House of my Pil- grimage. To Jesus Christ my Lord. O thou Eternal I'le forever chuse. Thee for the Subject of my Sacred Muse ; Till in the Quire of Angels thou me bring Where Saints the Anthems of thy glory sing. The Prayer. While I Intend to launch into this deep, And sound this sea, aloof me wisely keepe From every rock, and als from every danger, Let thy good spirit to me, now be no stranger : Let him be steersman while I saile this sea, And for my Star, let still my Sible be. Me to thy garden lead in sweetest hours. That I may gather some of Zion's Flowers ; Teach me to make right use of all this story, That I may pen rich lectures of thy glory ; " Make quick my spirit, in it thy grace infuse, That I this work hence wisely may peruse ; So that wee may learne in these latter times, For to detest these stinking rotten rhymes Of Poets, who on follies most profane. Doe spend their houres and idly waste their veine : To war with vice I mind in holy rhymes, And not to sooth or smooth this age's crimes ; My drowsie and my drossie spirits refine. Let tbis my work be rather counted thine ; For what is good let glory come to thee. For what's amisse O Lord now pardon me. The Fall op Adam. The Speakers. 1. The Lord. 2. Adam. 3. Evah. 4. The Divell. 5. The Serpent. (^Contains about 900 lines.) Abel Murdebed. The Speakers, 1. The Lord, 2. Adam. 3. Evah. 4. Cain. 5. Abel. {Contains about 900 lines.) TfiE Flood op Noah. The Speakers. 1. The Lord. 2. Noah. 3. Noah's Wife. 4. Shem. 6. Ham. 6. Japhet. {Contains about 860 lines.) The Towbe op Babtlon. The Speakers. 1. The Lord. 2. Nimrod. 3. The Nobles. 4. The Massons. 5. The Carpenters. 6. The Servants. 7. The People. {Contains about 930 lines.) The Destbdction op Sodom. The Speakers. 1. God the Father. 2. God the Sonne. 3. The Angels. 4. Abraham. 6, Sarah. 6. Lot. 7. Lot's Wife. 8. Lot's Sonnes' in Law. 9. The Sodomites. {Contains about 2000 lines.) 10 INTRODUCTION. Abraham commanded to SacrificbT Isaac. The Speakers. 1. The Lord. 2. Abraham. 3. Sarah. 4. Isaac. 5. Abraham's Servants. {^Contains about 840 lines,') The Histokie of Jacob asd Esau. The Speakers. 1. The Lord. 2. Isaac. 3. Rebekah. 4. Esau. 5. Jacob. (^Contains about 750 lines.') The Histokie op Jacob and Laban. The Speakers. 1. The Lord. 2. Isaac. 3. Rebekah. 4. Esau. B. Jacob. 6. Laban. 7. Laban's Sonnes. 8. Leah. 9. Rachel. 10. Men of the East. (^Contains about 1400 lines.') Jacob and Esac Reconciled. The Speakers. 1. The Lord. 2, Jacob. 3. Esau. 4. Leah. 5. Rachel. 6. Jacob's Messengers. (^Contains about 720 lines.') Joseph and hi9 Bbethbeh The Speakers. 1. Joseph. 2. Jacob. 3. Reuben. 4. Judah. 5. Jehovah. 6. The Egyptians. 7. Pharaoh. {Zines omitted to be taken, but may be as- sumed at about 1000.) Pharaoh's TrBANNiE and Death. The Speakers. 1. Pharaoh. 2. The Egyptians. 3. The Taskmasters. 4. Raguel. 6. Puah. 6. Amram, 7. * * * 8. Pharaoh's Daughter. 9. Mizram. 10. Moses. 11. Zabad. 12. Zipporah. 13. The People of Israel, 14. Jethro. 16. The Israelites. 16. Jehovah. 17. Aaron. 18. The OfiScers of Israel. lU. The Magicians. 20. Pharaoh's Servants. {Contains about 2480 lines.) The Histoeie of Jephtha. The Speakers. 1. Gilead. 2. Gilead's Wife. 3. Gilead's Sonnes. 4. Jeph- tha. 5. Vaine Men. 6. The Ammonites. 7, Israel. 8. The Messengers of Israel. 9. The King of Ammon. 10. The Messengers of Jephtha. 1 1 . The Captaines of Ammon. 12. The Cap- taines of Israel. 1 3. Jephtha's Daugh- ter. (^Contains about 720 lines.) The Histoeie of Samson. 7'Ae Speak- ers. 1. The Lord. 2. The Angel. 3. Manoah. 4. Manoah's Wife. 5. Samson. 6. The Philistines. 7. Sam- son's Bride. 8. Samson's Father in Law. 9. The Men of Judah. 10. The Gazites' Neighbours. U. The Gazites. 12. Delilah. 13. The Lords of the Philistines. {Contains about 2100 lines.) Nebuchadnezzar's Fierie Fdrnace. The Speakers. 1. King Nebuchad- nezzar. 2. The Princes. 3. The Go- vemours. 4. The Captaines. 5. The Judges. 6. The Treasurers. 7. The Counsellors. 8. The Sheriffes. 9. The Rulers of the Provinces. 10. The King's Herald. 11. The People. 12. The Chaldeans. 13. Shadrach. 14. Meshach. 15. Abednego. 16. The King's Mighty Men. {Contains about 3280 lines.) The Histoeie of John the Baptist. The Speakers. 1. The Lord. 2. Zach- arias. 3. Elizabeth. 4. Gabriel. 5. Mary. 6. Herod. 7. Herodias. 8. John. 9. The Disciples of John. 10. The Hangman, (Contains about 800 lines.) The New Jerusalem. As it is described by St. John in the Revelation, Chapters xxi and xxii. {Assumed as containing about 250 lines.) The Popish Powder Plot. The Speakers. Christ, King James. Elizabeth. Peeres of England. The Lords appointed to trye the Traitors. The Earles of Nottingham, Suffolke. The Lord Monteagle. The Sheriffe of Worcester. The Devill. The Jesuit Gerrard. Robert Catesby. Thomas Percy. Guy Faux, &o., &c., &o. {Con- tains about 1568 lines.) The World's Vanities. Divided into Eight Branches. 1. Strength. 2. Hon- our. 3. Riches. 4. Beautie. 5. Plea- sure. 6. Wisdom. 7. Children. 8. Long Life. {Contains about 550 lines.)" (FINIS,) The Pieces may not appear in the two vols, in the same arrangement as the fore- going, which has been given in a sort ofchro- nological order as relating to the Scripture History. INTnODUCTlON. 11 Having now had a view of the contents of this rather remarkable work, we should be well pleased to be able to fix the date at which it was composed by its learned Author. There are, however, no posi- tive means of arriving at this desirable conclusion, and the most obvious path is to plod through a few inferences drawn from the like- liest circumstances. The probability is, that when a young man, he had felt the inspirations of the Muse, and that he had occasionally indulged in poetical writing, without being, as towards his latter years, her seemingly almost constant and earnest votary. His first regular Work, begun under the pious dedication of his mind and affections, was perhaps that of " Zion's Flowers," set forth in the verse which he terms his " Heroicks." Judging from the internal evidence of the MS., in such particulars, as the care bestowed on its penmanship, and executed with a firm steady hand, its lines accurately punctuated, and with few corrections on its face, it may be presumed to have been composed and written under the advantages of much quietude and leisure. These taken into consideration, along with the more fresh, vigorous, and superior manner in which its subjects are treated, as compared with some of his later productions, would lead to forming such an opinion, as that it was the work of the earlier part of his life, and when in the best state of his intellectual powers. The Poems in tbe two volumes being altogether of a Scripture character, with the exception of " The Popish Powder Plot," (App. Note 7,) it is only from tbe latter that any clue can be obtained to assist in guiding to a date. This historical event happened in 1605, and as the year of Mr. Boyd's birth may now be stated in 1585, he was then only 20 years of age, and attending the University of St. Andrews. There can be no doubt that this " Plot " had then attracted his attention, and from his own patriotic feelings and his high respect for his Sovereign King James, to gratify both, the idea might have been entertained of recording the circumstances in his verses; the probability however, is, that his mind, fully engrossed with his scholastic preparations, would forbid the execution. It would appear that he had gone some time in 1607 to Saumur in France, where he continued 16 years, and returned to his native country in 1623, when he must have been out of employment only for a few months, having been appointed Minister 12 INTRODUCTION. of the Barony ParisL of Glasgow in the same year, and during this short interval of rest, and engaged with his friends, it is not to be ex- pected that we should detect him indulging in poetical studies. There is, we think, much likelihood, that it was during the period of his residence in France, between the twenty-second and thirty- eighth year of his age, that he had written the greater number, if not the whole of these Poems. Many allusions in them to practices and customs, &c., peculiar to that country, would seem to favour such a hypothesis, and the pleasure arising from the task of composing them, which he calls his "sweetest hours," may have acted as a solace, deprived of many of the endearments of his home. The " latter times " which he speaks of in " The Prayer," is a general phrase copiously used in his other works, and cannot be legitimately interpreted as marking any particular date. Whether or not he had penned them while in France, it may be admitted as nearly certain that they were aJl in the finished condition in which we see them in 1626, when he commenced the composition of " The Last Battell of the Soule," one of them, " The World's Vanities Divided into Eight Branches," being found in that work, (printed in 1629) reduced into plain prose. Either the one or the other preceded, and such evidences as we have, much preponderate for the priority of the versified edition. Although what has been advanced is on most points con- jectural, we can scarcely ever hope to arrive at information of a more satisfactory kind, than that between 1607 and 1626, formed the period of the composition of these two interesting MS. volumes. How he had not published them, it would be difficult to assign a reason. We think that " Zion's Flowers" may be considered as not only the first in order of his compositions, but as having first suggested the idea of his other future poetical labours in the Scripture field. In that Work he begins his Poems or Pieces with the Fall of Adam, and ends with the two last chapters of the Revelation of St. John, not, however, apparently following any regular method, as many of the Books in the series of the Bible are altogether omitted, but picking here and there subjects of an incidental stirring nature, from the histories of the Old Testament, with only two Poems out of the New. INTRODUCTION. 13 After he had been a Minister of the Barony Parish for twentj-one years, and in the fifty-ninth year of his age, he published in 1644, " The Garden of Zion," in two volumes, (App. Note 8,) in which, ob- viously, upon a decidedly formed plan, he began again at the opening of the Book of Genesis, and with less amplification of the subjects than that in " Zion's Flowers," he travelled over a majority of the Books of the Old Testament. In a MS. work, entitled " The Foure Evangels," we find him in its introductory " Prayer" thus summing up the progress he had made in " The Garden of Zion :" — '* Thy grace my guide. Lord hitherto hath beene, Thou hast me help't as it may well be seene — From Adam to the Judges for thy glory, My pen hath gone ev*n in the sacred story ; Through Judges all, and Kings that were not few ; Thojt me unwind that knotty snarled clue. Made in my verse, and taught me how to chuse, Of all their lives that which was most for use ; Through Ezra als, and Nehemiah wise ; And Esther too, thou hast brought me likewise ; Both Job, and Psalms, and Proverbs all alongs ; Ecclesiastes, and the Songs of Songs ; £y thee I have compil'd, of all this wholy, 1 with my heart ascribe to thee the glory," His version of the Psalms was a separate publication, which may be viewed in the light of a national work for the use of the people, and the religious service of the Church of Scotland. It had been printed a considerable time previously to 1646, and in that year had reached the third Edition. It appears that, about 1647, the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland had resolved to supersede the " Old Paraphrase (or metrical version) of the Psalmes," and to com- pile a new one, when our Author's version had been much noticed, and both it and his judgment, had been consulted by the " commis- sioners" and " revisers" who were appointed for that purpose. After dififerent translations had been reviewed and examined, which was a business of some difficulty and trouble for three years, the present metrical version received the sanction of the General Assembly in 1650. (App. Note 13.) Mr. Boyd had bestowed much labour on this subject, and he had been also at a "great deal" of expense, and was no doubt hopeful of getting his own version introduced as the 14 INTRODUCTION. popular standard, instead of which he had to be contented with a Minute of " thanks " from the Church. This testimonial in " wrytte " from such an honourable source, would be highly pleasing to his feelings, besides the compliment which it paid to his talents — but deprived of the laurels to which he had aspired, he, and his friends who had warmly supported him in this cause, may be supposed to have been somewhat disappointed with the result. Had there been no other version at the time, the public would not have been Ul sup- plied with his, for that which he produced may be considered upon the whole as far from being a poor effort, equalling in most instances in smoothness of versification, the translations of his contemporaries. It is extremely probable that immediately after he had published "The Garden of Zion," in 1644, he commenced the metrical transla- tion of " The Foure Evangels," to include another branch of the Books of the Bible, and thus shewing some intention of proceeding through -the whole Scriptures. This MS. appears a first copy, and from the corrections on it, to have undergone successive revisions. He had laboured hard in this "gude work to bring forth his sugre'd dainties," and to " make the Zephire sweete, with musky sighs over the flowers" to blow upon it; the time, however, appears to have approached when the lamp of poetical fancy, trim it as you will, refused to shine out with its wonted flame, and the translation which on this occasion he produced, cannot by any means be pronounced as one of his most successful. We have thus a slight sketch of Mr. Boyd's performances in these his " divine Poesies." Here and there are to be seen in them some faint intimations of the purpose which he had designed the whole to serve — his object is, however, distinctly made known in his " Watchword" to the " Generall Assemblie," prefixed to the first volume of " The Garden of Zion," dated "From Glasgow the 28 of May, 1644," in which he says, " Right Reverend, Our Schooles and Countrey are stained, yea pestered, with idle Bookes, your children are fed on fables, love songs, badry ballads, Heathen husks, youths' poyson. It much concerneth you to see to this, and carefully to banish out of the land all the names of the Pagan gods and goddesses, which (as God hath expresslie told us) should not he taken in our lips. INTKODUCTION. 15 (Psal. 16, 4.) These words of God in Exodus are very considerable : In all things that I have said to you bee circumspect, and make no men- tion of the names of other gods, neither let it he heard out of thy mouth. (Exod. 23, 13.) Seeing this by God himself is required, it lyeth upon you to ordaine by the visitors of Schooles, that all these monuments of idolatrie be removed, and that only such Bookes have place that may help children to know God and Christ his Son, which is life eternaU. (John 17.) Your humble Servant, Mr. Zachart Boyd." In thus writing, it cannot be suspected that he was any foe to classical learning, his benefactions to the University evince quite a different spirit. As a Christian minister he had wished like Elijah the "Reformer," to bring the false gods into contempt, to purify the Schools, and the morals of his countrymen, and to purge literature, especially its poetry, of that constant recourse for food and figure to the Pagan Mythologies, whose extravagances and pollutions so much infested the productions, of many of the older class of the politest English and Scottish Poets. Whether his own verses, as a pure model, were a fit substitution to effect the improvement he desired, is another question — all will agree that he meant well, wrought hard, and that the cause in which he had embarked was honourable. It is not unlikely that he had originally intended "Zion's Flowers" to promote the end expressed in the foregoing address to the Assembly, but had subsequently found the Poems too lengthy and elaborately framed, and therefore they lay beside him unprinted. He may also have been in doubt, whether he had not himself, in some of his language and similes, so far encroached upon the heathen ground he condemned. The Poems and translations of " the Garden of Zion," were in a style more adapted for popular use, and carried in them no high pretensions. It may be presumed that in his own day his poetical effusions were much read and admired. The public had no doubt heard after the Author's death, of his having left Manuscripts of a similar tenor to those pjiblished, and taking in the whole printed and unprinted, the report had gone abroad of his having rendered the whole Bible into verse, and from which may have originated the well known name of "Zachart Boyd's BiBtE," transmitted down through many generations. His works as embracing subjects from, 16 INTRODUCTION. and metrically translated Books of the Bible, certainly afforded some little colour for conferring on them such a name or title, but as they do not, as we have seen, comprehend every portion of the Old and New Testament Scriptures, there is not sufficient ground to warrant the appellation in its strict sense. {App. Note 14.) It may be remarked in passing, that the term Bible, was in old times given to Books even of no sacred character, from their pre-eminence, arid the estimation in which they were held by the people, and in ordinary speaking, appealed to in confirmation of. the truth of this and that, beyond which there was no gain-saying. {App. Note 15.) Our Author's poetical offspring may also have been clothed with the same authori- tative honour ; but in later times, any mark of respect paid to them, has been an empty piece of etiquette, almost nothing being known of their faces and dispositions. In the Biographical Sketch of 1831, the writer glanced at several of Mr, Boyd's qualifications, both as a prose and poetical Author, and seeing no occasion to alter any of his sentiments, he does not therefore recapitulate them. He may now be permitted merely to say, that Mr. Boyd was a man of deep and extensive learning whom few surpassed — and that in point of oratorical power as a preacher, as well as in the matter and method of his public discourses, he must have been a bright star of the Church to which he belonged. His prose com- positions, as they have been variously viewed, are perhaps in merit not all equally well sustained, but notwithstanding, he may be placed among the clearest theological, and most correct Scottish writers of his age. In comparison as a Poet he creeps rather than flies, but having found him a Son of the Muse, we must accept him as we find him, and instead of promptly serving him out with scurrilous abuse, as has been too often done, receive him into our friendly protection, as in civility meet. We smile at the execrable usage of an old Author, (App. Note 16,) who informs his readers : " And which our very hearts pierces, Master Zachary Boyd's verses ;" and were we inclined «to adopt all that has been said against him in other quarters, it might be asked, why not at once dismiss him, or at INTaODTTCTION. ] 7 ' least, turn our back upon him at the levee of the Poets ? This, carp- ing critic you may demand, but with the Joppa mariners we feel reluctant to throw him overboard like Jonah, and cannot part so easily with our local Christian Poet, who, in his " English Verse" and " Heroicks," celebrated the Battles waged against the " Enemy of Man- kind " and the " Corruptions of Sin." Whatever sphere may be assigned to him among the lights of Poesy, it cannot be granted to extinguish him. Without doubt, he has many " uncouth" rhymes and eccentri- cities — and if he is thought in the structure of his dialogues and narratives, to be imitating the " Mysteries" of the Middle Ages, or those classical Masters who laid down their precepts for the regulation of Poets in all time coming, we need not be the least alarmed though we see him displaying a total want of respect for their " unities," and their other solemn dictates. Occasional also may be his anachronisms, such as in introducing the " Daughter of Herodias" to dance a " Stravetspy" to entice the bloody Herod — or in decorating and attir- ing " Potiphar's Wife" after the most approved fashion and costume of only two centuries ago — and again, as in the " Tempted Joseph" reasoning with the " Wife of Potiphar" from the words of the New Testament. There may farther be perceived, a sprinkling of far- fetched imagery — sometimes in language, what may be deemed, plain spoken, and familiar, but in spite of all these, which may now be regarded as blemishes, there is an honest, friendly, unsophisticated depicting of truth and nature in his verses, entitling him as a Poet, to oiir favour. If he is deficient in the loftier flights of imagination, or if in a random attempt at these he manages them, not always quite according to the principles of modern taste, he is never dis- agreeable, nor are the ears ever 'shocked "with the obscenities and double meanings, which, in many instances, disfigure the pages of Poets, who are, at the present day, applauded to the skies. As a homely and didactic Poet, who notices a great variety of the manners, customs, characteristics, and peculiarities of the age in which he lived, inter- weaving them with his moral and religious refiections, and elu- cidations, the additional publication of his works, would be a highly prized contribution to our stock ■ of antiquarian literature, and 18 INTRODUCTION. would furnish a rich mine of curiosities and originalities, for which, in his own way, he is conspicuous. By his poetical compositions his great aim had been to be useful, and to communioate instruction to mankind, and in them there is undoubtedly a fund of solid and important- knowledge, which is more than can be afSrmed in respect to a large proportion of those themes and productions, which are often issued from the press under the garb of poetry. Every one will admire that spirit of piety with which he entered into his task, and the declara- tions of his own humility, should be sufficient to disarm the valiant critic of -much of his hostility, in the heat of what he may caU his chivalrous contendings for the honour of the Muse. " If," says our Author, in a sort of apology for some of his 'Holy Songs,' "any of these verses go not so smoothly as thou wouldest, know that I have tied myself very straitly to keep stiU the wordes of Scripture — some escapes there be in the printing, at sometimes a syllabe more, and some are lesse then should, but the judicious Reader may easily take the matter up ;" which hints, may, in part, assist us with a key, to unlock instances of imperfections in rhymes, and sundry incongruities, which are certainly to be met with scattered throughout the voluminous domain of his poetry. The "judicious reader" must now, however, along with this advice, also " take the matter up," in regard to how much, since the Author's time, the pronunciation and accentuation of language have changed, and that often as to the syllabic measure, what was then counted in the feet, as two or three syllables, and so read, has, with the same mode of orthography, been with us probably cut down to one or two feet. On the readers strictly attending to such directions, he wUl discover good prosody, and harmony of numbers, in passages which he might otherwise be inclined to set down as rugged, bad, and even ludicrous — and also in other par- ticulars, the reader making allowances for the taste and the unpolished state of letters and society which then existed, as compared with our standards. Indeed, not a few of what may be called our Author's faults, are as much imputable to his times as to himself. A little careful study of the literature, notions, and fashions of his period, will confirm such observations. " Mr. Zachary" INTRODUCTION. 19 could never, by any possibility, have foreseen, that after a lapse of more than two hundred years, his MS. poetry was to be brought out in small sections, and be made a topic of public discussion and criticism. In some measure, as if through a spirit of prophecy, to provide against this, and to prepare men's minds for the alterations, which they might expect in language, and otherwise, be penned a short edifying " Use" to his Poem " The Towre of Babylon," carrying it down from that era to his own seventeenth century, and applicable from the latter to the nineteenth. It is so true, just, and philoso- phical in its expositions, that it may be called in as testimony in his own behalf, and also in reference to some of the foregoing remarks on his, writings. '* Most time alas, to conquere wordes wee spend. And misse the matter which we should intend ; Yea more the wordes which are in usage nowe, Within a space no man will them allowe; Wordes fine before^ are banish'dfrom the Court j And get no roome, but with the countrey sorte; Men's mouthes like trees, beare wordes, as leaves that fall. Now greene and good, anone are withered all And passe no more; this Babel doth extend, This Nimrod's plague on earth, from end to end ; The wordes which whilom all men did admire, Loath' d in a trice may hence foorth not appear; No more then changing French with gallant shewes. Could be content to weare the Irish trews; Our wordes like clothes, such is vain mans condition. In length of time doe all weare out of fashion; Such marked tongues should teach us God's disdaine, And yet for that in wordes wee are most vaine; Wee are like Echo, which by voice begot, From hollow vales speakes words it hnoweth not." It may only be added, that he had adopted much from the plain expressions of the Bible — a book which had been his supreme delight and constant companion. It would seem that when Mr. Boyd plied his incessant quill, it had not been without suspicion of his meeting with ridicule. In the "Dedication" of his MS., "The English Academic," [App. Note 17,) to "Jesus Christ my Lord," he thus writes — " Of Momus beasts I do not feare the bite, I to thee offer heere my Muses mite." 20 INTRODUCTION. Although appearances are in favour of his poetical effusions having basked in the popular sunshine, it is probable that there were several men of his own time, who accounted themselves wise, who were not en- tirely satisfied on some points. This would no doubt give him un- easiness and grief, but having evidently, as he considered, engaged in a most excellent cause, his zeal and intrepidity were sufficient to bear him along, in the face of all difficulties and disparagements. " Let critics bite and laugh, still we shall write," may be supposed to have been his inward meditations, while in the retirement of his study he dipped his " penne" into the ink bottle, to add another verse for man's immortal weal. Perhaps the earliest recorded specimen of abuse, occurs in " The Whiggs Supplication or Mock Hudibras" of " Sam Colvil." This facetious Author, whose object was to burlesque the Presbyterian system, took the liberty at the same time of including " Master Zachry" with a wipe in the go by, and thus expatiates in his "Apology to the Reader," — "Where one (says he) laughs at the Poems of Virgil, Homer, Ariosto, Du Bartas, &c,, twenty will laugh at those of John Cockburn or Mr. Zachry Boyd. What Hypocon- driaq : would not presently be cured at the reading of those lines ? {App. Note 18.) For my part, if I were a great man, I would sooner give gold for such lines, than copper for all the Heroick Oracles of Senecas Tragedies." Pennant, a celebrated English antiquary, who visited the College about 80 years ago, appears to have seen " Zion's Flowers," and there likely had been pointed out to him the famous extract [App, Note 19,) from the " Soliloquy of Jonah in the fishes belly," which he had at once pounced upon, and had hugged it as a rare gem, for the two-fold purpose of putting into his Book, and of doing what he could to suppress the " vulgar imagination," that the author bequeathed his money under the expectation that any respectable University would be guilty of printing such verses. To his, although somewhat garbled quotation, no exception may be taken, and had he not absurdly made his scrap of eighteen lines the criterion for determining the quality of twenty-six thousand, he might have been passed over without censure. Pinkerton, in 1797, (App. Note 20,) did not commit himself to extracts from "that cloud of miserable rhymes." In his goodness of heart, "candour (says he) will smile at INTRODUCTION, 2 1 the foible but applaud the man," and as his mode of " applauding the man " he introduced into his work concerning "Illustrious Persons," a portrait of Mr. Boyd, almost resembling a caricature. About 1838, arrived at the College, Thomas Frognal Dibdin, D.D., one who delighted in Books and old Authors, from^whom might have been expected a really useful opinion of Mr. Boyd and his writings. This literary gentleman and bibliographer indulges us however^ only to disappoint us with his rambling " crotchetty " observations. Instead of being impressed with the importance of the case on hand, he is clearly desirous of being thought smart and clever, diverting himself with "the celebrated Zachary," by alternately coaxing and slapping him, till he treats him to the final knock down. " I doubt " says he " if even a small octavo volume of intelligible or popular matter could be selected from this interminable farrago, of which, however, no incurious specimens will be found in the concurrent note," — and then the Doctor proceeds, telling out several poetical extracts from the Author's " Bible " on another's authority, to inform the antiquarian "Book Clubs" in Scotland of not the one fortieth part of what they were in possession seven years before. But all these are pardonable enough, if the Doctor had not so liberally drawn upon his fancy in sundry points, I'especting which there can be seen no foundation whatever in our Author's works. That the Doctor applies to him epithets, such as — " a compound of fanaticism and kind feeling " — " of a proud bearing to-day, in humble penitence to-morrow" — " a most singular and intractable manager of his intellectual merchandise," &c., are all tender cuts in comparison to — "there was the thinnest possible partition in his cranium between reason and madness " — which last, with aU our respect for the name of Doctor Dibdin, one might be provoked to throw back to himself. In all humility, we think that most of the Doctor's representations are unworthy of attention, and it is, therefore, with much pleasure we refer our readers to the remarks of " Dr. Fleming, the Professor of Hebrew in the University of Glasgow," on our Author and his "Bible," to be found in the "Notes" of Dr. Dibdins " Bibliographical, Antiquarian, and Picturesque Tour in Scot- land, "pp. 703 — 8. Itis with equal pleasure we mention, that since 1831 other notices of a literary and critical kind have appeared in various D -;^ INTRODUCTION. Newspapers, Periodicals and Journals, of which we would have been happy to have made some use for the benefit of our readers, if our limits had permitted. A cloud of mystery has long hung over a particular department of Mr. Boyd's history .^nameZi^, whether that in bequeathing his Property to the College, by his Deed of Mortification, dated 9th December, 1652, he made it a binding condition on the Faculty or Professors, to print his Works after his death. On this curious question, many different assertions have been put forth by writers, resembling an " uproar," which happened about eighteen hundred years ago, when " Some cried one thing and some another, for the assembly was con- fused." If the public voice, which for two centuries past, has been floating through the dim haze of a traditional intelligence, was to be assumed as the truth, it might be embodied in the following statement — that the College took Mr. Boyd's money, but omitted to fulfil their duty as to the printing of his works, and as an excuse for their neglect, they "gave him a stone," or in other words, erected his bust, as men- tioned by John M'Ure, the old Glasgow Historian, "with an open Bible in his hand." (App. Note 21.) We are therefore glad, on tfiis contested topic, to hail the presence of an Author who brings ex- planatory documents, {App, Note 22,) and to make room for them in our pages. "The next point (says he) which it seems desirable to clear up, is, whether Mr, Boyd's Deed of Mortification imposed upon the College any obligation relative to the printing of his works; and, if so, what was the extent of this obligation ? This is a question on which there has been considerable diversity of averment. One of his biographers (Chambers' Scottish Biography) affirms that "it is a mistake that Mr. Boyd made any stipulation as to the publication of his writings, or any part of them." Another (Neil) in referring to the Deed in question, quotes it as imposing on the College the obligation " to print, in one volume, all his work ;" and proceeds to suggest that " the work referred to was probably ' The Flowers of Zion,' which he seems carefully to have prepared for the press;" adding apologetically, that "the publication of this work, as was supposed, would reflect no credit on his memory, and would be attended with no advantage to the public; it was therefore not printed." Again, the author of the INTaODtJCTION. 23 Memoir of Mr. Robert Baillie, having occasion to speak of Mr. Boyd, says explicitly, "His fond expectations, if not positive injunctions for having his works published after his death, were wholly disregarded." The following extract from the Deed itself, must put an end to all dispute as to the matter of fact so variously represented by these different writers." " Lykeas, it is heirby speciallie provydit, that, out of the reddiest of the haill foirnamed soumes, thaire be desbursed be the said Princi- pal!, Professors, and Mrs. (Maisteris) and y'r (thair) successors, als much money as will suffice to print in one volume in folio, consisting nearly of four hundrethe sheets of paper, my Workes, quhilk are alreddie printed in severall pieces, together with dyverse Sermons and other Treatises, quhilk I have besyde me yet unprinted, to be addit y'rto (therto) eftir the same is revised be the persons heireftir designed ; referring to the said revisours to make choose of such of my Workis, either already printed, or lying besyde me unprinted, as they sail think fitt to be published in print. And for this effect I appoynt Doctor Johne Strang, & Mr. Robert Bailzie, Professor of Divinitie in the said Colledge, conjunctlie & severallie, to revise my foresaid Workis ; and failling of them, it is hereby provydit that the Rector of the said Universitie, Deane of Facultie, with the Prin'all, (Principall) Professors, and Regents of the said Colledge, and y'r (their) other Assessors, nominat and choose ane or moe able, godlie, and learned man or men, to revise my said Workis to the effect above specified. Lykeas, it is also heirby expresshe provydit, that the said Doctor Johne Strang and Mr. Robert Bailzie, and faill- ing of them, any ane or more who be directione foirsaid sail revise my said Workis to the effect above specified, sail have for their paines pro rato fbr their awine propper use and benefeit, the haill bookis to be printed, whereof I appoynt and ordaine that there be a thousand coppies ; and y'reftir (thaireftir) aU the rest of the foirnamed soummes I appoynt and ordaine to be employed for building of new buildingis in the said Colledge, and for no other use." {App. Note 23.) "It seems very strange that no evidence is to be found on record even of any preliminary steps having been taken to select the materials for the pubKcation thus enjoined, nor any explanation of the causes 24 INTnODUCTION. which prevented the fulfilment of the injunction. We are quite aware to how many sources of fallacy, an attempt to furnish such an explanation, after a lapse of nearly 200 years, must be exposed ; but in making such an attempt, we shall enable the reader to judge how far the explanation to be oflPered is founded on authentic documents, and how far it rests upon conjecture. [Several of the documents to be referred to are included in a bundle of papers which Mr. Dillon had not judged it worth while to include in his Inventory.] — (See Inventory, p. 26,)" "Of date, 16th January, 1648, Mr. Boyd had assigned to the College 4000 merks, part of 6000 merks due to him by the Earl of Loudoun, for the printing of his works. — [Billon's Inventory, C. 1, 4.) In his Mortification (1652) he reserves to his spouse the life-rent of all bonds ip which her name appears. Now, when Lord Loudoun's bond was granted, (June 1636,) Mr. Boyd's first wife, Elizabeth Fleming, was alive, and her name, not that of his second wife, Margaret Muir, appears in it. Hence it is, that in the arrangement as above explsrined, entered into between the College and her, with consent of Mr. Durham, her second -husband. Lord Loudoim's bond is not taken into account. In proceeding to apply the surplus of the proceeds of the other bonds, after buying up her life interest, to the "building of new buildingis," the College probably conceived that they were reserving, in the Loudoun bond, a sufficient sum to defray the cost of printing Mr. Boyd's works as prescribed by him — this being the purpose to which Mr. Boyd himself had at one time destined the larger portion of that bond, and the one which he probably had in view, in leaving it unfettered by any claim on the part of his relict. Unfortunately, however, the state of the Earl's circumstances* prevented the sum contained in the bdnd being * " Chancellor Loudon lives," says Baillie, writing to Spang, 19th July, 1654, " like ane outlaw about Athole, — bis lands comprised for debt, under a general! very great disgrace." — (III., 249.) And again to the same in 1655, (/Aid, p. 288,) " The Chancellor gott better conditions in his capitulation than any did expect, albeit his debts and infamie lye very heavie upon him." On the Restoration "Loudoun had his pension of a thousand pound, [Scots] and gift of annuities con- tinued." — (fttd, p. 443.) INTRODUCTION. 25 obtained on Mr. Boyd's death. A few years afterwards (in 1657-8,) various legal steps were taken on the part of the College to enforce payment, which terminated in an assignation by the Earl to the College of aii Annuity of Teinds. — (See bundle of papers not inventoried.) But in a Decreet of Poynding, issued twenty years after this, (1678 — see same bundle,) it is expressly alleged that from Candlemas 1637 to Candlemas 1676, no annual rent had been paid upon the principal sum. The College, therefore, up to that time, had derived no benefit whatever from this portion of Mr. Boyd's estate ; and no one who has read Mr. BaiUie's dolorous complaints against Principal GUlespie, for having, by the extravagant manner in which he carried on the College buildings, plunged them into " beggarie and dyvorie," can imagine that there was any likelihood of funds being found for any other purpose than that of re-edification. If we may trust to Mr. Baillie's statement, Mr. Gillespie had his eye on this bond, also, as a means of liquidating his building expenses. — (Letters, III. 432.) Whether any farther steps were taken by the College after 1678, for the recovery of the contents of the Loudoun bond, does not appear ; but James, the second Earl— the party against whom the decreet of poynding in 1678 was issued, — went abroad, in consequence of his not concurring in the measures of Government, and died at Leyden in 1684. — {Douglas's Peerage.) The fact of the bond and assignation being among the College's papers, would seem to imply that they had never been discharged. Nor could the difficulties arising from the causes that have been adverted to, fail to be augmented by the occurrence of Principal Strang's death, about a twelvemonth after that of Mr. Boyd himself ; and by the ascendency which Episcopacy re-acquired in the University subsequently to the death of Principal Baillie. — {Deeds Instituting Barsaries in the College and University of Glasgow, 1850, p. 37-8-9.)" Into this intricate question the writer presumes not to enter, seeing that those seemingly with the fullest opportunities of investi- gation are unable to disentangle its meshes. He simply claims to act the part of a pioneer in clearing the way, and presenting his readers with such information and evidence as are available, that if they wish to 26 INTRODUCTION'. arrive at any decision, they may, if possible, reach it impartially. In furtherance also of this object, and as a kindred branch of the question, some statements respecting Mr. Boyd's Means and Affairs, from the above authority may be seen, {App. Notes 24, 25, 26,) so that in the circumstances, every light is diffused. Mr. Boyd had no children by either of his two spouses, or in his own wordes, " no heirs begotten of mine owne body." {App. Note 29.) With a parental fondness for his works, which he often exhibits, he had evidently adopted them for his heirs, and, no doubt, intended that they should descend to perpetuate his name. Could he now visit the College buildings, the prospective vision of which had stimulated his heart to be so gracefully liberal, he would certainly be gratified with all that had been so durably erected, but on the other hand, most un- questionably mortified in the extreme, that the Clause in his Deed of Mortification with regard to the printing of his works, from whatever cause, had never been implemented. We think it may be drawn from documentary evidence, that the Faculty of the College lay under an obligation to print his works, and if nothing is ever to be discovered of any steps having been taken to that effect, surely his memory and in- junctions were miserably slighted. In the face of such positive regu- lations as are conveyed in the Extract quoted, one can hardly be persuaded to think that the College stood quite aloof, and especially that his two intimate friends, " Dr. Johne Strang," {App. Note 37,) and " Mr. Robert Bailzie," {App. Note 38,) to whom he had primarily com- mitted the charge of revising his works, were entirely careless ; and that they did not, immediately after his death, make some exertion to exonerate themselves. It must be admitted that a number of un- toward circumstances had then occurred, among which it appears that Principal GiUespie ruled College affairs with rather an overbearing sway, and that to promote the erection of the new College buildings, according to what was then deemed his extravagant taste, the necessities for funds {App. Note 39) were urgent. If the argument for the revising and printing of Mr. Boyd's works had ever been brought forward by his friends, the probability is that it was superseded by the desire of a more powerful party for the speedy and elegant accommodation proposed, or at least, that preparations for the publication were deferred INTRODUCTION. 27 till a more convenient season, which never having come round, the matter dropped altogether out of sight. On looking over the contents of the Extract, it must be confessed, that it was not an easy undertaking which Mr. Boyd had imposed on his two reverend literary friends. The reader may be convinced of this, by referring to the abridged Catalogue of his Printed and MS. works. {App, Note 2.) For the " revisours " to have waded through such a heap as he lays down, and finally to have decided on even the most superficial criticism, in respect to what was to be included in this " folio volume," we think it would have been busy employment for a considerable period of time. True, m the event of the " failling " of the "revisours" appointed, he had "provydit" a safety valve of assurance, in the Faculty of the CoUege nominating " one or more able, godlie, and learned man or men " for the labour, who were to be remunerated for " their paines" from the edition to be printed of "a thousand coppies." Whether even an idea for the nomination of these revisors or editors had ever been entertained by the College Faculty, there does not seem any evidence. One would have thought that, at the Meeting held on 24th February, 1655, {App. Note 51,) of the " Moderators of the University taking to their serious consider- atioune" what was most prudent to be done, at which meeting was brought forward the state of Mr. Boyd's bequests, and the praiseworthy " Act" was passed to " set up" his " Statue," that the revising and printing of his works would also have received some serious considera- tion. Mr. Baillie, his esteemed friend, appears to have been among the number who attended this meeting and subscribed this " Act," but there is no hint of his voice having been heard on the printing Clause, nor of its having been mentioned by any other present. We suppose the mistake of the CoUege Faculty to have been, in buUding with the sums of Mr. Boyd's Mortification before commencing to print his works, contrary to his express instructions, that out of the " reddiest" of his bequests his works were first to be entitled to that honourable distinction which he had provided for them, and " thaireftir " the balance was to be "employed" for the construction of "new buildingis." No better lg,id scheme than his could have been devised, for securing the success- ful issue of this mighty folio tome, " consisting of neirly four hundrethe 28 INTRODUCTION. scheets of paper," or of 1600 pages, which in contemplation he had dearly cherished, and with the same views he had most probably con- sulted with a printer, when, on 16 January, 1648, (about 5 years before his death) he assigned 4000 merkes, (or £222 4s. 5d. Sterling,) (App. Note 27,) of Loudon's Bond, and again on 11 December, 1648, 5000 merkes, (or £277 15s. 6d. Sterling,) of Glencarne's Bond, {App. Note 28,) both " for printing of my works." At his death he had all his Manuscripts paged, sorted, and ready, for this literary legacy to the human race, which through some inexplicable "wheel within a wheel," they have not been destined to enjoy. Besides other benefits which the College derived through his generosity, there is in one instance acknowledged the sum of 9850 merks, (or £547 4s. 5d. Sterling,) as having been devoted to the good cause of the College Buildings ; and with this application of funds, the Clause appears to carry down an obligation upon the " Successors" of the College Faculty, relative also to the printing, both of which, namely, building and printing, we think ought inseparably to be joined together — and seeing now that the University, as report goes, is rich and comfortable, might it not be well yet to favour the public with Mr. Boyd's folio volume, which in this book age, would be an acceptable and much appreciated offering to his memory. Why should he be looking down from his niche, with his " stone Bible" in his hand, upon so many generations of men who have paced these academical courts, beseeching them to consider his case ? " It appears" says an antiquarian reviewer, {App. Note 30,) " that Ayrshire is entitled to claim Mr. Zachary Boyd as one of her sons. He was descended from the Boyds of Pinkill, {App. Note 31,) a family of some standing in Carrick, and he was a cadet of the noble family of Kilmarnock." While he was in France, he wrote in 1615 to Prin- cipal Robert Boyd in Scotland, " that a tax is imposed upon all who cannot evidence their {noblesse) descent from nobility, and therefore you will please to seod me my descent attested." It is said that in his " Foure Letters of Comfortes for the deaths of the Earle of Haddingtoune and the Lord Boyd," he claims kindred to the latter. He was cousin to Mr. Andrew Boyd, Bishop of Argyle, {App. Note 35,) and cousin also to the before named Principal Boyd of Trochrig, INTBODUCTION. 29 {App. Note 36,) who was appointed Principal of the University of Glasgow in 1615. It is presumed by those who have paid atten- tion to his history, that he was born in Ayrshire, and most likely in the town of Kilmarnock. Hitherto much doubt has prevailed as to the date of his birth, which may now be pretty satisfactorily stated in the year 1585. {Jpp.NoieZ2.) Of the circumstances of his parents there seems nothing known. Who were some of his " nearest of kin" with who9i the College had transacted after bis death, may be seen (^App. Note 23). There may be expressed, as yet sufficient room for further genealogical investigation to those who have leisure and opportunities. It is generally believed that Mr. Boyd received his earliest education at the public school of Kilmarnock. He afterwards " passed through part of his academical course in the CoUege of Glasgow, where he matriculated in 1601," {Deeds Instituting Bursaries, e prime of life, and full of christian experience, the Minister pf the Bajipny 32 INTRODnCTION. Parish of Glasgow, (App. Note 34,) the third ministerial appointment since its religious establishment in 1595. At the time of his being admitted to this charge, the population of the Parish together with that of the City did not probably exceed 7 to 8000, and the houses in general were of a mean appearance, covered with turf, heather, or straw thatch; nevertheless he accounted it no insignificant place. " What a thing is this (saith he) that within a hundreth yeares, not one of vs all that are heere shall bee left alive, no not in this great Citie wherein we Hue." Being now settled as a Minister, it is probable that Mr. Boyd had immediately thought of entering into the married state. His ideas of marriage, and of what a wife should be, nay, even a widow, may be abundantly gathered from his works, and to quote passages from them would only fatigue the reader. It may be sufficient to say, with the ideas he entertained, that if, like his cousin. Professor Boyd of Trochrig, he did not meet with "ane honest virgin," it was because " Sathan with his baites and lures is euer waiting for to catch his prey." What qualities, therefore, did the lady possess whom he married ? The question is more easily asked than answered, there being only a few particulars respecting her, " dry as dttst," collected from some law Papers, Her name was Elizabeth Fleeming. She was possibly a native of Glasgow, her surname having abounded in the city at that time, {Inf. from Dr. J. G. Fleming,) and her con- nexions were likely of the mercantile class. "Johne and Robert Flemyngs," who had mortified two thousand merks to the New Build- ings of the College previous to 1655, may have been some of them. In "Oct. 1630," she is designated " Spouse to Mr. Zachrie Boyd," a Legatee in the Testament of John M'Bdldune, " merchand burgess of of Glasgow." {Com. Bee. of Glasgow.) The Testator was probably married into the same family, and his wife a sister of Mrs. Boyd's. Most likely for the sake of old friendship, Mr. Boyd had remembered in his Testament of 1652, "Margaret and Jonet Fleemin," Legatees for "an hundrethe merks each," (or £5 lis. Id. Sterling,) who may have been his wife's sisters or relations. In certain Deeds granted by him in 1635 and June 1636, he is said to have made hand- some life-rent provision for her in the event of his decease. " There can be no doubt she died in November, 1636." — {MS. Inf. from INTEODUOTION. '33 the Bev. Hew Scott, West Anstruther.) By this marriage there was no children ; — that for a dozen of years or so it contributed to the felicity of his life is a reasonable supposition. At the death of his wife, Mr. Boyd was fifty-one years of age. How long he remained a widower is not known. After her decease it is probable that he felt his home solitary and himself dull in spirits, even with the companionship of his Manuscripts and sympathizing friends, and with the same serious consideration which he prescribes to others, he had deemed it proper, perhaps after not a long interval, to reinstate himself in his matrimonial comforts. His position in society as a gentleman, a Minister, and a learned man, would lead us to anticipate him being successful in the important errand of seeking a second " help meet." He had obviously, also, at that time some money power, and perhaps a share of it lay in the particular quarter (App. Note 41,) to which he appears to have directed his steps. Our readers will observe from the second Poem printed, (Poetry, p. 73) that he well understood the whole art and mystery of " wooeing," but to be practised only on its purest principles, nor was it likely either to have been with him altogether a business of cold formality. We find him next married to Margaret Mure, (or Muir) seemingly the fourth daughter of WUliam Mure, the " Laird of Glanderstone," {App. Note 40,) near Neilston, Renfrewshire, one of the oldest and most respectable of the families of that county. It is a remarkable fact, that with the marriages of the numerous daughters of this generation of the family of Glanderstone, are associated the names of several men destined to live long in the annals of History. Whether that Mr. Boyd's affections had not been so far drawn to this family circle, from something happy and amiable which he saw in its members and connections, no one can say. — He at least verified his own aphorism of " selecting a bird out of a good nest." It would appear from some.of his Deeds that he had a marriage contract with Miss Margaret, who was possessed of a " tocher of three thowsand merkis," (or £166 13s. 4d. Sterling.) This could not, however, be a great temptation to him, and he must have seen other properties in her, for it was his rule to " preferre not purse nor portion to the worth of the person." As in the case of his first marriage, we are ignorant of the progress of this union. Baillie, incidentally, just 34 INTRODUCTION. glances at the pair in some of his letters — to " Mr. David Dicksone, April, 1644. I thank my cummer your wife heartily, for that great kindness she shews to my wife, to my dear brother Mr. Robert (Ram- say) and his wife. I am also much obliedged to kind Mr, Zacharie (Boyd) and his wife;" also, at end of June, 1644, to "Mr. Robert Ramsay. — Commend me to your kind neighbours, Mr. Zachary (Boyd) and his wife, and all others there whom ye know to beare the publick worke on their heart." Again, " on May 4, 1645, Whoever minds in their prayers the work on hand, your good neighbour Mr. Zacharie (Boyd) and his wife ;"' and when in London at the Assembly of Divines, he writes " to Mr. Robert Ramsay, August 18, 1646, Com- mend me heartily to your wife, the farr best yeoman of the two, and to Margaret Roberton, and Mr. Zacharie's wife, and Mr. George's, my wife's grand cummers." It may be said that it is only near to, and after Mr. Boyd's death that his second wife figures to us at all as a personage, to whom he had been generous in settlement as to his first. Besides repaying her the three thousand merks of "hir tocher," to which he had been bound by their Marriage Contract, in his Deed of 1652, he reserves to her certain life-rent provisions, and in addition, she received "the household plenishing," and one half of sundry "moveable goods," enumerated {App. Note 26). A traditional anec- dote was communicated to the writer in 1831, by the late Profes- sor Macturk to the effect, that when Mr. Boyd was drawing out his " Last Will and Testament," his spouse made one modest request, namely, that he would bequeath something to Mr. Durham, who was then Minister of the Inner High Church, " No, no, Margaret," was his reply, " IHl lea' Km naething hut thy bonnie seV Another version of the reply runs in this sarcastic strain, " ru lea'' him what I canna keep frae him." It is probable that his keen perception of human character had discovered, or imagined that he had discovered in her a delicate partiality, for the eminent Author of the " Treatise concerning Scandal," — the Commentator on the " Song of Songs," and the "Revelation of St. John." Whatever maybe surmised, it appears (Note 25) that on 17th Deer., 1653, about eight months after Mr. Boyd's death, she is designated " Spouse to Mr. James Durham," and afterwards arranging with the College for her life-rent at seven INTRODUCTION. 35 years' purchase for 7150 marks, Scots, (or £397 4s. 5d. Sterling.) With this accession to her " toaher,'''' and a " furnished house," she was likely also a Lady of considerable personal attractions and accom- plishments. From her station in society, her education would be the best of the day, and she signs her name well on documents, the art of writing not having been then a common qualification of women. In her thus marrying one who is acknowledged to have been "a burning and a shining light" in the Church, and possessed of christian virtues, she had obeyed the counsels of her first husband. — " If God call thee to marriage, see that thou call God to thy marriage. But if thou marrie not in Christ but make thy choise by thy sight, and not by sighes to God in prayer, then shall thy mine he turned into water." This match, if more to her liking, was not of long continuance, Mr. Durham having died on 25th June, 1658, in the 36th year of his age, {Note 42.) Under date "February 22, 1693. — Margaret Mure, relict of Mr. James Durham, Minister of Glasgow, gave to the Library of the University Mr. James Durham his Sermons of the Unsearchable Riches of Christ, in 8vo., Glasgow, 1685," which was a token of her good will to a valuable Institution. From tracings of her history she is supposed to have lived to a very advanced age. Of Mr. Boyd's marriage with Miss Margaret Mure, there does not seem to have been any children. " It has been thought," says a writer, "that, like Milton, Zachary Boyd was not happy in his marriage, and several very bitter invectives against the feelings of the female sex are to be found scattered throughout his Poems." In his Poetry from certain passages being emphatically scored and under- lined, it was supposed that these might have some reference to his own childless condition — to the sneers which were in consequence passed upon him, and perhaps, also, as milch as to mean, that in his two nuptial careers he had been a little subjected to the influence of female government — on such a slender basis, however, and with so much respectability in the parties on both sides, it would be rash and uncharitable to found even an impression. In his second marriage, the Lady was probably only in her " teens," while he had " turned the corner" in his age. She was allied to a family of standing, belonging to the rank of the gentry, who, though living- in a much 36 INTRODUCTION. homlier style than now, she may have been brought up in the en- joyment of many of the lighter amenities and indulgences of gay life, which, if in some things, with any wish to foUow, the peculiarly austere notions of her husband would be ready to check. The honour of being "the Minister's Wife" of the " Barronie Kirk," had not perhaps, in all circumstances, compensated for a monotonous life with a husband, who, at his spare hours, was almost perpetually engrossed in forging new Scripture Paraphrases, and preparing volumes of Manuscripts, to be printed for the weU-being of posterity, she having none to enliven the domestic hearth. That notwithstand- ing, there was any inteiTuption of peace, must be precluded from our thoughts. The union, for perhaps a course of fifteen years, was no doubt productive of many mutual advantages. About the time it was breaking up, there is recorded one little pleasing incident on the Author's Family Bible, {App. Note 43,) which he specially gifted to her — " / have given this Bible to my Loving Spouse, Margaret Mure — M. Zachary Boyd — Marsarata Mure oweth this Book. I with my hand at the penne." This act was in consistency with his affectionate remembrances, " My Deare Spouse, I must tell thee aU that I thinke concerning thy weU, for I desire thy Soule to be Jcnitte with mine into the bundle of life." From Mr. Boyd's popular talents as a Preacher — being the Minister of an extensive Parish, when, at his induction, there were only three churches in Glasgow, viz., the " Inner High," the "New Kirk or Tron," and the " Blackfriars or College," — besides, a thoroughly educated clergyman, and of unblemished character, and who had been himself a Regent in a foreign University, it may naturally be expected to find him in intercourse with his other brethren of the Ministry, and receiving the expressions of their warmest esteem, as also of his having formed an intimacy with the Professors of the University. Only shortly before his settlement in the Barony, his cousin, Mr. Robert Boyd of Trochrig, had demitted the Principalship of the University, and the circumstance of the latter having filled that distinguished office, may have started in his mind some feeling for association, along with that of the University having been his own Alma Mater, to which his pretty illustra;tion of another subject may be applied. INTROD^CTIo^f. 37 "See (says he) what a liking these who are in Kinges' Courts will haue to remember of the Cottage or rurall village whereinto thej were borne and brought up. The secret draught is so powerfull that hardlie can any expresse the tsause. This made a Pagane to say Nescio qua natale solum duhedine cunctos Ducit, et immemores nan sinit esse sui. By this yee may see how, by a certaine secret instinct, wee euer loue the places where wee haue beene borne and brought up." According to the following extract, after having been eight years a Minister, he is seen occupying some of the highest oflBces in the University. "In 1631, Mr. Boyd was chosen Dean of Faculty, (,App. Note 44,) and from that period to the close of his life, he was almost uninterruptedly an Office-bearer in the University. In 1633, he was re-elected Dean. In 1634, and again in 1635, he was chosen Rector. (App. Note 45.) In 1636, he was for a third time Dean of Faculty. He was a Member of the several Commissions of Visitation, (App. Note 46,) named by the General Assembly in 1640-42 and 43. By the beginning of 1644, if not earlier, he had been appointed Vice-Chancellor. (App. Note 47.) In 1645, he was for a third time named Rector, and in the following years down to the time of his death, he continued to officiate as Vice- ChanceUor, in which capacity he sat and voted in the Faculty though not otherwise a Member. — {Deeds Instituting Bursaries, &c., p. 34.) While he held these important offices in connection with the University, its Records bear evidence of his having been a faithful friend to its internal working prosperity. Many details might be collected from "Journals and Letters" of Baillie, of, matters relating to the ecclesiastical movements of the times, &c., in which he took part, but to introduce such would not be generally interesting. From the honourable distinction which Mr. Boyd had obtained in the University, its interests had become a consolidated principle in his mind, and without in the least suspecting him of ostentation, had no doubt helped to lead to his repeated benefactions in its favour. His intimacy with Principal Strang and their school fellowship, have been ascribed as having had considerable influence in prompting to his acts of kindness ; nevertheless, there may be perceived early dawnings springing from his own benevolence of heart, and zeal for the 38 INTRODUCTION. cultivation of learning. In 1629, addressing the "Sicke Man," he says — " Seeing God hath blessed you with Wealth, I doubt not but yee will doe something for the well of Colledges and Sospitales — Colhdges are the Seminaries or seede-plots of vertues, out of which come those who become Rulers of the Church and Commonwealth. Eospi- tales are shelters for the poore, the friendes of Christ," to which the " Sicke Man " readily responds, " All these things were done in my Testament while I put mine house to an order. I have not forgot that point of duetie. Hee is not worthie to be called a faithfuU man, who leaveth not behind him some fruits of his Faith. That Faith which cannot justifie a man by good workes before men, will never justifie his Soule before God. Eemember mee Lord concerning this, and wype not away my good deedes which I have done for thy glorie." In some of his Deeds granted, we find such voluntary testimonies, as "for ye glorie of God " — " for the care I have of the advancement of learn- ing, and my singular love and respect to the seminarie of good letters in the CoUedge of Glasgowe," and " for. my guid affectioune to the advancement of pietie and learning, and my singular respect to the florisching of the Universitie and CoUedge of Glasgow." Animated by these praiseworthy incentives, from about 1629 his benefactions appear flowing almost in a continual stream to the time of his death. Of these we have a concise account as follows — "Besides founding the Bursaries, {App. Note 48,) Mr. Boyd was in other very important respects a munificent benefactor of the College. In 1630 (18 Nov.) he subscribed 500 merks "for the help of the building the Librarie." {App, IfoU id.)— (No. 16 of Clerk's Press, p. 329.) In 1637 he executed a Disposition of his Books to the CoUege. {App. Note 50.) — Dillon's Inventory, C. 1. 2.) In 1646 and 1648 he executed Assignations to the College of several Bonds for large sums then due to him. {Ibid, 3. 4. 5.) And in the end of 1652, he crowned all by a Deed of Mortification in their favour, {App. Note 23,) in which, reserving the life-rent after his own death to his Spouse, he conveyed to the College almost the whole of his Property. {Blockhouse's Inventory, No. 474, and Dillon's C. 1. 8.) — " {Deeds Instituting Bursaries, &c., p. 35.) In commemoration of his liberality by the "Act" {App. Note 51) of 24th Feby,, 1665, (nearly two years after his death,) the " Moderators INTRODUCTION. 39 ordain y' the Statue of the said Mr. Zacharias Boyd, done in marble, be set up in some convenient place of the said new building, with an inscription in gold letters, bearing the munificence of the said Mr. Zacharias towards this University." This statue, or bust, was erected over the gateway, within the College Court, with the following inscription : " MR ZACHARIAS BODIVS FIDELIS ECCLESI^ SVBVRBANJ3 PASTOR 20000 LIB. QVA AD ALENDOS QVOTANNIS TRES ADOLESCENTES THEOLOGI^ STVDIOSOS QVA AD EXTRVENDAS NOVAS HAS ^DES VNA CVM VNIVERSA SVPELLECTILI LIBRAEIA ALMJ3 MATRI ACADEMIC LEGAVIT." " By an entry dated May, 1658, (No. 15 of Clerk's Press, p. 214,) it appears that there were given out for Mr. Zacharias Boyd's statue, with the compartment in whyt marbeU, and the wryting tabell in black, twentie fyve poundis sterling," {Deeds Instituting Bursaries, &c,, p. 39—40. Not having exact information as to the value of all Mr. Boyd's bequests, their amount cannot be calculated. The inscription sets forth 20000 Lib. Scots, (or £1666. 13s. 4d. Sterling.) He was also otherwise beneficial to a considerable extent, and upon the whole, as a private individual, was perhaps the first who shewed an example of what may be called large munificence to the University. In his day he would be considered a wealthy man, and it is a little curious how that, after maintaining his house- hold and public rank, he had been able to lay past so much money. So far as has been discovered, he inherited no family or private for- tune, and while he was a Regent and Minister in France, as Pro- fessorships and stipends were there going, particularly among the slenderly endowed Protestant Universities and Churches, but a narrow opportunity presented for accumulation. In an interesting letter, after he had been fourteen years Minister of the Barony Parish, we hear him familiarly expostulating with one of that order, whom the Presbyterian Clergy in general must have eyed askance, as 40 iNinoDncTioN. to the poverty stricken place in which his lot had been cast. — " To the Bight Beuerend Father in Qod, My very Eonourdble Goode Lord and Patron the Arch-Bishop of Glasgowe. C Patrick Lindsay.) My very Honourable Good Lord, — My humble service remembered to your Lordship, it hath pleased God at this time to deliver me from the grave, wherein most willingly I could have lyen downe as in a bed, if it had pleased my Master Christ to have said, " Retume thou Sonne of Adam," as Moses speaketh in the Psalme of his Lamentations ; but now seeing it hath beene his will yet to say to me Pasce ones meas, it is my part to striue to feede them in the integritie of mine heart ; yea, and to be carefuU that after me the place be so prouided that worthie men may be preferred into it for the well of so good a people, which lye heere in a place the most eminent in the west. It is your Lordship's part, before God, and honour before men, to see this done with all haist, for a sudden change of your Lordship's remouing from this seat may come, so it shall not be called your Lordship's doeing what shall be done afterward by another : Let me haue an answer to these who, after your Lordship's remoueing from us, shall interrogate and say Quid boni inter vos egit Archiepiscopus Lindesius. If it shall please your Lordship at this Session to do as was commoned I wiU stand yet be the bargaine, but if this Session arise I resolue to serue God carefully in my calling, and to keepe still the little portion which I had in your Lordship's predecessors time, untiU God find out a waye for the augmentation of that stipend which is now the meanest of all the Presbytrie, considering in what a deare place I dwell, haueing neither Glebe nor manse concernit, which also I hope your Lordship will be carefull at this time that they may be designed for that Kirk. So recommending your Lordship and honourable familie to the mercie and protection of God, I humbly take my leaue, and so restis — Tour Lordship's Most humble and obedient Seruant, M. Zacharie Boyd. From Glasgowe the 28 of Januar, 1637. — I tak the boldness as to remember here the most humble seruice I am able to mak to my Lord Chancellor, my Lord Hadintoune, and my Lord Lauderdaile, whom I remembered unto your Lordship dum essem in faucibus mortis. So long as I liue you all shall haue a dayly Oratour for your prosperitie." — {From the original preserved in the general Begister House. — Miscel- INTRODUCTION. 41 lany of the Maitlaud Club, Vol. II., Part II., pp. 123—6.) The pecuniary exigencies of the Scottish Presbyterian Church, he took occasion to bring before the riew of Charles I. on 17th June, 1633, when he met him at the Porch of Holyrood House, and addressed to him a Latin Oration couched in a very lofty strain of loyalty. In this unique piece of eloquence he also represents that state of things he complains of to the Archbishop, as a hardship to the Ministers. According to his statement, in 1637 the " stipend " for the Barony Parish had been "the meanest of all the Presbytrie," and with " neither Glebe nor manse concernit.'' That "little portion" fixed by his "Lordship's predecessor" (Archbishop Law) had probably fallen in value. His Parish, " a place the most eminent in the "west," was not " a fat living." From " Accompt of Executrie," we find his Stipend for 1653 to have been 576 lib or £48 Sterling, with a large amount of "byrun stipends owing by the toun of Glasgow," respecting which, after his death, there was some dispute with the Magistrates. He is requested by " the toune to see quhat he will quit of his stipend the years 1650 and 1651, the haUl crops being destroyit. {Memorabilia of Glasgow.) In a money point of view he was below the par of his clerical brethren, " the Stipend for the Ministers of Glasgow being in 1638 £58 16s. lljd. Sterling, and that for the High Church in full of Manse and Glebe, £66 13s. 4d, Sterling." — {Cleland's Annals, Yo\. I., p. 151.) As one of the modes through which he had made it better, it is not improbable that his first wife was a moneyed Lady ; a consider- able addition to his means may also have been received through profits from the sale of his printed works, along with that prudent management of all his temporal affairs, which he is constantly impressing on his readers. Having amassed money, lending it on Bonds at the high rates of interest per annum, which were at that time usual, would rapidly increase his stock, and perhaps with the " anwells " regularly accumulated for a new loan. Avarice, however, cannot be observed in any feature of his character. He was no doubt so far disappointed in not having been blessed with children, but submitting to Divine Providence, who directs all for the wisest, he asks, "What are children ? let us suppone that, like noble branches, they Hue and come 42 INTRODUCTION. to men, yea, to gray haires. They are our heires, the end of all our painefuU drudgery and carefull conquests. Though a man had con- quered unto them the whole world, hee must look upon his conquest with a sigh, and say with the wise Man, 'As for him that commeth after mee, who hnoweth whether hee shall he a wise man or a fool,' and yet hee must be master of all my labours. Man may conquise Lands to his Children, but Thrift and Wisdome cannot be bought. The most thriftie is often the father of the mdSt forlorne." " Certainly," says Lord Bacon, " the best works and of greatest merit for the public have proceeded from the unmarried or childless men which, both in affection and means, have married and endowed the public." Mr. Boyd may be taken into the class of the "childless men," and for his beneficent acts, though not for the same purpose, be placed with his philanthropical contemporaries and townsmen, "Maisters George and Thomas Huchesoune of Lambhill," and with another contemporaneous benefactor, who is. thus noticed by an old Historian, "the celebrated and ever famous and renowned George Herriot, who was the King's jewler, who left such incredible riches that made such a famous hospital at Edinburgh as still bears his name." In whatever points Mr. Boyd excelled, it will be seen in the course of his writings, that the spiritual interests of the Church lay always the nearest to his heart. In his public and private prayers, conjoined with his loyal feelings, his aspirations were, that " God may blesse our gracious Soueraigne the King's Majestic with thy best blessings" — to "blesse his Royall Match," &c. — "The Church is thy Spouse ; keepe her as the apple of thine eye— Make her fertile like a broodie vine," &c. — "Purge her from all Shismes and divisions which breede great thoughts of heart — Decke and decore her with puritie and unitie, the two most precious spiritual jewels of thy Spouse." — " Suffer no sin to go current with vs (the Ministers) without check — Let vs neuer follow the sway of times with sewed Cushions under our Elbowes," &c. It must, therefore, have been with the deepest emotions of grief that he witnessed his Sovereign, Charles I., in 1636, endeavouring to lay waste his "beloved vineyard," and obtruding Episcopacy upon Scotland without distinction of persons. Every INTBODUCTION. 43 reader of history is acquainted with the ferment which this bad impolitic measure created throughout the Kingdom, giving rise to the "religious troubles," and the formation of that holy league named the "Covenant." " I believe," said Charles, "Episcopacy to be Apostolical ;" others as firmly believed that Presbytery was of equal authority, but the King had taken his stand on his pet system, and seemed determined if it was overthrown to die in its ruins. It would appear that Mr. Boyd had been at first a dissentient from the principles of the " Covenant," for Baillie says, (Letters, vol. I., p. 46, Edit. 1775) " the greatest opposites in the west to this subscription, are our friends in Glasgow, all the College, without exception, &c., and Mr. Zacharias. They are not only with- drawers of their hands, but pathetic reasoners against it. How this comes I will not say, but I have my own thoughts — yet old Mr. Bell and Mr. WUkie are passionately for it, albeit half derided by the other as simple fools. It is like to fall out evil among them." What Mr. BaiUie's "thoughts" were he does not explain, but from what he adds respecting a visit he afterwards made to the "College and Ministers" to persuade them to change their sentiments, {ibid, p. 46,) " we left them resolved to celebrate the Communion on Pasch in the High Church kneeling," &c., it is evident that Mr. Boyd was one of a party, who had consented to some of the simpler outward rites of Prelacy. That he had ever entertained any wavering or hesitation as to altering his ecclesiastical polity from that of plain John Calvin to the pompous platform of Laudism, or of framing his worship and devotions by the " new composed Liturgy for Scotland," or aspired to be one of the " Lords over God's Heritage," can scarcely be conceived, though it must be confessed, as far as he went, he was treading upon dangerous ground. The probability is, that he had conscientious scruples, about such a Bond as the Covenant, which was to compel him to a disruption of friendship with his Monarch, and was tantamount to the renouncing of his allegiance. It was obvious, that this Covenant was not a mere matter of form, but that if acted upon, would be the cause of much bloodshed and confusion in the country ; and many reasons may have operated upon his mind, as to require some temporary 44 INTRODUCTION. delay and consideration, which Baillie, in the heat of his enthusiasm, may have hastily construed into a prelatical leaning. Whatever were his motives, he is seen at last fairly and openly coming forward and adhering to the cause of the Covenant, at a meeting held in the Cathedral, so graphically described by Baillie, {ibid. Vol. I., p. 88, Edit. 1841) — "At our townsmen's desire, Mr. Andrew Cant and Mr. S. Rutherford were sent by the Nobles to preach in the High Bark, and receave the oaths of that people to the Covenant : — My Lord Eglintone was appointed to be a witness. There, with many a sigh and teare hy all that people, the oath was made — Provest, Bailies, Counsell, and all except three men, Patrick, James, and Mr. Archibald, held up their hands. Mr. Zacharie (Boyd) and Mr. John Bell younger, hes put to their hands. The Colledge it is thought will subscryve ; Mr. WiUiam Wilkie I know will ; the Forsuithes (Forsyths) hes subscryved, and almost all who refused before ; some they will not have their hand, bot minds to processe them." It is not within our limits to narrate circumstantially the events of this exciting and momentous period of Scottish history, in which the Church appears in the literal sense of the word, "militant" — and "terrible as an army with banners." The crisis was, indeed, to a great extent her own life struggle, and she behoved to make the utmost efforts and sacrifices for her preservation. Whether, as Cromwell on a subsequent occasion told her Ministers, that "they were attempting to build the Lord's House with untempered mortar," and that they had not with themselves some future ambitious pro- spects for the extension of their Presbyterian form, is not at present the question ; they were, in the first place, both morally and religiously right in resisting to the death the formidable aggression which had insultingly threatened to deprive the country of its liberty of con- science, and its people of their native-born privileges. The " drum ecclesiastic " had therefore to be beaten, and Baillie, {ibid. Vol. L, p. 210) who was at that time Minister of Kilwinning, gives us the following spirited sketch of his own appearance on Dunse Law in 1639, at one of the Church's campaigns, " It would have done you good (says he) to have casten your eyes athort our brave and rich Hills as oft as I did with great contentment and joy, for I (quoth the INTRODUCTION. 45 wren) was there among the rest, being chosen preacher by the gentlemen of our Shyre, who came late with my Lord of Eglintoun. I furnished to half-a-dozen good fellows, musquets and picks, and to ™y boy a broad sword. I carryed myself, as the fashion was, a sword, and a couple of Dutch pistols at my sadle ; but I promise Tor the offence of no man, except a robber in the way ; for it was our part alone to pray and preach for the encouragement of our coun- trymen, which I did to my power most cheerfullie. Our Hill was garnished on the toppe towards the south and east with our mounted canon, well near to the number of fortie great and small. Our regiments lay on the sides of the Hill, almost round about * * * as I remember, capable of tents for fortie thousand men." What, then, was Mr. Boyd doing, when so many of his clerical brethren and countrymen were with the army and in the camp ? He was pursuing the peaceful duties of his ministerial labours in the Barony Parish, but not by any means an unconcerned spectator of the course of events. There are the indications not only of a watchful anxiety, but a spiritual improvement of the leading features of the times, and some of his Sermons in MS., for the gleam of light which they throw out, are worthy of notice. — "A Sermon of Repentance made at a Publick Fast during the troubles in Scotland, for the Booke of Common Prayer, Anno 1638, the third of June, before noon, JEzekiel, cha,p. 18, verse 31. — 'Cast away from you all your transgressions whereby ye have transgressed ; and make you a new heart and a new spirit ; -for why will ye die, house of Israel.'" — "The Safetie of the Church, preached Anno 1638, July 15." — " The Weapons of the Church, a Sermon at a Public Fast, for the Book of Common Prayer. Psal. 122, v. 6. — ' Pray for the peace of Jerusalem, they shall prosper that love thee.'" — "The Triumphe of the Church, preached in two Sermons, of thankes, according to the ordinance of the Generall Assemblie at Glasgow, 1638, after the Examination of eight Bishops. First Sermon, preached the last Sabbath of the yeere, 1638. Psal. 129, v. 1 to 4.— 'Many a time have they afflicted me from my youth, may Israel now say,' " &c. — The second Sermon preached the first day of the yeere, 1639. — " By the Rivers of Babylon— The Afflictions of Israel in Babylon, 46 ISTRODUCTIOX. expounded in 4 Sermons, with many notable doctrines and uses. Jer. 17, V. 13. First Sermon — The Afflictions of Israel in Babylon, preached the 21 of Aprile, 1639, in the time of troubles for the Covenant of Scotland. Psal. 137, ver. 1."— " A Sermon of Thankes- giving, preached the fifteene day of September, a Generall Assemblie in Edinburgh, 1639. Psal. 18, v. L— "I will love thee Lord my strength." — " A Sermon for a Fast in time of Warre, preached the 20 August, 1640, when the Scots Armie entered into England. On Thoorsday the twentie of August, 1640, this Sermon was preached, and on this same day, our Armie, after noone, past the Tweede. Psal. 27, V. 1." — " The Lord is my light and my salvation ; whom shall I fear — the Lord is the strength of my life, of whom shall I be afraid." — " Scotland's Halleluiah, or a Sermon for a public thankesgiving to God, after the settling of all our troubles both in Church and Commonwealth, appointed to be through the whole land the 9 of Januar, 1642;" Psal. 66, ver. 11, "Thou broughtest us into the net; then laid'st affliction upon our loins," &c. — " Christ's contract with Scotland, England, and Ireland, preached in a Sermon at the subscribing of the Covenant, betweene the three kingdomes, the 29 day of October, 1643 ;" Jsa. 44, ver. 5. — " One shall say I am the Lord's, and another shall call himself by the name of Jacob ; and another shall subscribe toith his hand unto the Lord, and surname himself by the name of Israel." — Such are a few of the more prominent of the Discourses which were reverberating among the thick set pillars and carved bosses of the ancient " Baronrie Kirk," when no doubt, the inhabitants in their costume of " broad- lipped hats," "blue bonnets," and "plaids," and frequently with agitated hearts, were to be seen drawing up the steep " bell o' the brae," and skirting across from the Rottenrow and the Drygate, and over the adjacent muir, on this and that Sabbath and " fast day," to hear a " word of comforte " from their " Oratour " Mr. Zacharias. Besides his public Discourses, he printed in 1643 — " Crosses, Comforts, and Councels, needful to be considered and carefully to be laid up in the hearts of the Godly in these boysterous broiles and bloody times ;" and that he might not be behind as the Poet of the Church and the Covenant, he published a singular Poem, entitled INTRODnCTION. 47 "The Battbll of Newbvbne, where the Scots Armie obtained a notable victorie against the English Papists, Prelats, and Arminians, the 28 day of August, 1640," descanting in a triumphant manner on an affray in which the Scots lost only a few men, but had more wounded. The impetus, however, which the success imparted to the cause of the Church must be taken into account, along with the disasters which he so grotesquely dilates upon throughout this Poem, as suffered by the "Canterburians." " In this conflict which was both eowre and surely, Bones, blood, and brains went in a hurli/ burly; All was made Hodge-podge, some began to Creole, Who fights for prelats is a beastly foole. Thus these which first did scorn our Scots voleyes, With waved caps did smart for their folies ; Some wanting armes, and some wanting the legs, Did laugh at leasure with their sporting jigs," &c. The turn which affairs took in England after the decapitation of Charles I., by the ascendency of the Independents, was a sad disap- pointment to the hopes of the Scottish Presbyterians. Cromwell gave ample toleration in religious matters, but in political government this new King, Charles II., who had been brought forward as the ruler of Scotland, England, and Ireland, was a " bauble'' not at all to be tolerated by the stern Protector of the Commonwealth. CromweU, therefore, found it necessary, for the chastisement of Scottish monarch- ical pride, to come to Scotland with an army, and wherever he travelled thus equipped, he generally did some effective business. The unfortunate result of the Battle of Dunbar, on 3d Sept., 1650, in which 4000 of the Scots were slain, and 10,000 taken prisoners, with the loss of their field pieces, arms, and colours, was an event which must have filled the hearts of our countrymen with grief. The Protector obtained possession of Edinburgh, and afterwards paid a visit to the ministers and people in the west country. Baillie (Letters, Vol. III., p. 119, Edit. 1842) narrates, " While these things are a doing at Dumfries, CromweU, with the whole body of his army and canon, comes peaceably by the way of Kilsyth to Glasgow. (App. Note 52.) The Ministers and Magistrates flee all away ; I got to the Isle of Comray with my Lady Montgomerie, but left all my family and goods to 48 INTRODUCTION. Cromwell's courtesie, which indeed was great, for he took such a course with his sojours, that they did lesse displeasure at Glasgow nor if they had been at London, though Mr. Zacharie Boyd rallied on them all to their very face in the High Church" — that " fantastic old Gentleman," as Thomas Carlyle is pleased to style our Author, " calling them sectaries and blasphemers, the fantastic old Gentleman." Whether so, or not, in the heat of this panic, and cowardly flight of the clerical and civic dignitaries, Mr. Boyd appears to have stood firm to his post, seemingly with the peace of the city under his special keeping, and determined on his own principles, that " of all Leuites, the Lowne (silent) Leuite is the greatest disgrace," to face the invader of the City without reckoning upon consequences. We find on his Family Bible a MS. Note he had considered worthy of recording there, as one of the memorabilia of his life. — " 13 October, on Sabbath, 1650 anno, at Cromwell's (coming) 1 expounded the eight of Daniel, the morrow God wrought my deliverance — to him be glory for evermore. The Psalme I preached on was the 38 Psalme, v. 13, 14, 15. Wee did sing Psalme 79 from the beginning to the 8 verse, and the rest of the Psalme after Sermon. Divers sojours (soldiers) did sing with us." His preliminary exposition on the 8th of Daniel refers to the vision of the " ram with two horns which are the Kings of Media and Persia, and the rough (he) goat is the King of Grecia," &c., between whom and the warrior he was addressing, his fertile and ana- logical mind would probably trace some striking coincidences of character. The verses of his Sermon from Psal. 38 — " But I as a deaf man heard not, and I was as a dumb man tJiat openeth not his mouth. Thus I was as a man that heareth not, and in whose mouth are no reproofs. For in thee Lord do I hope, thou wilt hear me Lord my God," would in the exercise of his office inspire him with courage. — Psalm 79, " O God, the heathen enter'd have Thine heritage ; by them Defiled is thy house ; on heaps They laid Jerusalem," een from 6 to 7 per cent." (Selections from the Caldwell Papers, Part I., p. 128.) Note 42. Baillie writes, 4 June, 1658, " Good Mr. Durhame has keeped his chamber above these four moneths, and his bed more than this moneth of a lent (slow) feaver and defluxion that puts his life in great hazard.*' — (Letters, Vol, III., p. 368.) Baillie, who had a high respect for Mr. Durham, was a bearer of his Lectures on the Revelation, and assisted in passing through the press, three or four months afier Mr. Durham's death, the " Commentarie upon the Book of the Revelation," &c. — London, 1658, folio. Note 43. This interesting relic was in I83I in the possession of Andrew Ranken,Rsquire, Merchant in Glasgow.— 4lo., London, printed by John Field, 1648, with a "briefe Concordance or Table to the Bible of the Last Translation, carefullie perused and enlarged, by Mr. John Dow- name, B. in Divinitie, London, printed by the Assignees of Clement Cotton" — and Psalms " Printed at Edinburgh, by George Mossman, mdcxoiu." On title page, "emptua 8 lib," and some Greek, th; translation of which is, God U the beginning and end of all — M, Zachariag Bodiue. The text of the Bible is liberally interspersed with MS. Critical Notes, Comments, and various readings of the translation, and at the end of the Concor- dance is a large supplement of observations on particular passages of Scripture. From an inscription on the Book, it appears to have been the gift of Miss Paisley, to the late Rev. Dr. Ranken, Minister of the North- West Church, Glasgow. APPENDIX. XXXVll Note 44. "The Dean of Faculties is elected annually, on the 1 st of May, by the Senate. His office is usually held for two years, and by virtue of it, he is to give directions with regard to the course of study, and to judge together with the Rector, Principal and Professors, of the qualiBcations of those who desire to be created Masters of Arts, Doctors of Divinity," &c. (Uni- versity Calendar, 1844-5, p. 12.) Note 45. " The Rector is annually elected by the Dean of Faculties, the Professors and the Matriculated Students of the University. • * * It is the duty of the Rector to preserve the rights and privileges of the University, to convoke those meetings in which he presides, to enforce discipline, and with his Assessors to exercise that academical jurisdiction amongst the stu- dents themselves, or between the students and citizens, which is bestowed upon most of the Universities in Europe." (Uni- versity Calendar, p. 10 — 1 1.) Note 46. These Visitations on which Mr. Boyd was appointed along with a Committee of Noblemen, Gentlemen, Ministers and Elders, were generally for the purposes of investigating the secular a£fairs of the University — taking cognizance of the Teachers therein, and suggesting im- provements on its educational systems. Note 47. " The Officer of the highest dignity in the University is the Chancellor, who is elected by the Senate. The Chancellor is the head of the University, and by himself or his deputy, has the sole privilege of conferring Academical Degrees upon persons found qualified by the Senate. His office is held during life. During the establishment of Epis- copacy in Scotland, it was held by the Archbishops of Glasgow." — (University Calendar, p. 10.) Note 48. 'In 1653 Mr. Zachary Boyd founded three Bursaries for Students in Divinity. They are tenable for two or for four years — value £6 per annum each. The Pa- trons of two are the Members of the City Council, and the appointment of the third is vested in the Merchants' House of Glasgow."-^(University Calendar, p. 48.) The Deeds constituting these Bursaries will be found at length in " Deeds Insti- tuting Bursaries," &o., pp. 40 — 47. Note 49. " Glasgow the second of the Universi- ties of Scotland, was founded in 1450 — I , forty years after St. Andrews, and about the same length of time before Aberdeen. It had the Papal privilege of a Siudium Generale, the then technical term for a University, and a foundation by the Pope after the mode of his own ancient Univer- sity of Bologna,"— (Munimenta, Vol. IV., p. 12.) " The Library of the University was founded a few years after the Insti- tution itself Its beginnings were exceed- ingly small, and it was not until the seventeenth century that it assumed form or shape. The total collection now amounts to more than 60000 volumes, including many exquisite editions of the Classics, and some valuable manuscripts and curiosities. Among the latter is the manuscript paraphrase of the Bible, by the well known Mr. Zachary Boyd, who was a great benefactor of the University, and whose bust surmounts one of the gateways in the inner court of the Col- lege. Amongst the names of its early benefactors is found that of George Bu- chanan, who, it appears, presented to the College twenty volumes, chiefly of the Greek Classics." — (Sketch of the History of Glasgow, by James Pagan. Glasgow, 1847, p. 121.) Note 50. " Mr Zacharie Boyds Disposition of his Books to the Colledge of Glasgow. "I Mr Zacharie Boyd, preacher of God's word at the Barronie Kirk of Glas- gowe, for the care I have of the advance- ment of learning, and my singular love XXXVlll jiPPENDIX. and respect to the seminarie of good letters in the CoUedge of Giasgowe, have doted and given, likas I by thir presents dotes and gives to the said Colledge of Glasgow, my bookes and volumes, as Arias Montanus Hebrew Bible ; — Junius Bible;— A French Bible; — Two English Bibles, one of Andro Harts impression, the other printed at London ;^Perkins Works ; — Chemnitius Harmonie ; — Syn- opsis Physicae ; — Bellarmins Controver- sies j^Bellarmini Opuscula ;— Bezas Grit New Testament in Greek and Latin with Notes ; — Khemes New Testament ; — Are- tius on the New Testament; — Chemni- tius upon the Council of Trent etc. and all other bookes that it shall happen me to have at my decease : The whilk books I ordaine and dote to be given unto the Colledge of Glasgow by my heirs or exe- cutors ; I reserving always to me in mine owne hand to anull or dispose of the said bookes at my pleasure in any time come- ing except it be on my death bed. In iritness wherof I have writen and sub- scrybed thir presents. At Glasgow, the fifteene day of November a thousand six hundreth thirtie sevin yeirs. M. Zacharie Boyd."— CMunimenta, Vol. III., p. 423.) Note 51. ["Act of the Moderators anent Mr Zachary Boyds Bequests and ordaining a Marble Statue of him to be erected.] " At the Colledge of Glasgow, the 24th of Februarij, j" vj° fifty fyve : The Mo- derators of the University of Glasgow taking to their serious consideratioune, that whereas the deceast Mr Zachary Boyd, Minister of the Barrony Kirk of Glasgow, hath mortified towards the Building of the Fabrick of the said University the sowme of Seavinteine Thowsand merks, quhairof thair is adebted by William Erie of Glen- cairne, fyve thowsand merks ; by the Lairds of Bowallane, aught thowsand merks ; by the Laird of Nather-PoUok, thrie thowsand merks ; by Caldwell, ane thowsand merks, with power to Margaret Mure his relict to uplift the principall summs during hir liftyme, shoe being also provided to the lyferent thairof: And yet in regard thair occurres at this tyme more than ordinary haisard in the security of moneyes throw the irresponsablnes of de- bitors and other incidences of the like nature, to which the aforsaid mortified sowmes are like to be more lieable throw the exchange of security that may hap- pine; And being most desireous not to frustrat the laudable and exemplary in- tentione of the Benefactor by exposing the sowmes mortified to so great uncer- tantyes and haizards; And considering that the Old Buildings of the Colledge ar so ruinous as that they are not only vastly expensive to be upheld bot likely every winter to fall to the ground ; And that thair is also mortified towards the same use of building the sowme of two thowsand merks by Johne and Robert Flemyngs, qubich by the will of the mor- tifiers comes not to be payable untill the New Building be advanced ; There- fore the Moderators forsaid doe declare tbair resolution and purpose to goe on to ane present applicatioune of these morti- fied sowmes towards the Building and Fabrick aforsaid : And because the relict aforesaid hes right in liferent to the haill sowmes, therefore the Moderators aforsaid doe hereby condiscend to allow the Laird of Rowallane his band quhilk is ane pairt of the aforesaid seavintein thowsand merks, being seavine years purchase for hir liferent, shoe paying into the Colledge the superplus of quhat is conteined in that band over and above seavine years purchase : And it is hereby appoynted that the Superplus of Rowallans bond, being aught hundred and fifty merks more than payeth the composition with the relict for hir liferent, be uplifted together with the rest of the sums fore- mentioned, and applyed for New Build- ings in the Colledge, which the Modera- tors foresaid have resolved to beginne this spring. The Moderators further ordaine that the Statue of the said Mr. Zacharias Boyd done on marble be set up in some convenient place 'of the said New Building with an Inscriptione in good letters bearing the munificence of the said Mr. Zacharias towards this University. G. M. Neatherpollok, Rec- tor; Fatrik Gillespie, R. Baillie, Jo. Young, Ja. Vetch, Patrik Young, An. Burnet, Geo. Sinclair." — (Munimenta, Vol. Ill,, p. 492.) The hust referred to as a work of art may be considered but an ordinary production, though, after having stood exposed now exactly 200 years, time has, without doubt, blunted much of its effect. It may, however, be yet esteemed as a memorial possessing great interest. — (See Frontispiece.') Note 52. " Cowcaddens and Cow Lone — It was by this lone that Oliver Cromwell marched his troops into Glasgow by the old Homan road, now called Dobies Lone, after he heard that the Loyalists, then called Remonstrants, had filled the vaults of the Archepiscopal Palace with gunpowder, t&c, on purpose to blow up his army, as they passed the wall of the Castle, then in a state of defence." — (^History of GlasgoWf by Andrew Brown, Vol. II., p, 86.) Note 53. The Ministers of Glasgow had not soon recovered from the panic of their flight at Cromwell's first visit. He paid them a second^ about six months after- wards, and their faith appears as weak as on the first occasion, only they had not time to withdraw from the City, The following may be quoted entire as a curious document, shewing the state of feeling of both parties as it existed — Letter — ** From your brethren the Minis- ters of the place, For Mr Robert Douglas, April 23, 165), For preventing of mis- , takes we have thought meet to advertise you that Cromwell having come to Ham- ilton on Friday late, and to Glasgow on Saturday with the body of his army, sooner than with safety we could well have retired. On Sunday beforenoon he came unexpectedly to the High Inner Church, where he quietly heard Mr, Bobert Bam- say preach a very good honest sermon pertinent for his case. In the afternoon he came as unexpectedly to the High Outer Kirk, where he heard Mr, John Carstairs lecture, and Mr. James Durham preach graciously and well to the time as could have been desired. Generally all who preached that day in the town gave a fair enough testimony against the sec- taries. That night some of the army were trying if the ministers would be pleased, of their own accord, to confer with their general. All of us did meet to advise, and after some debate we were content all to go and hear what would be said. When we came, he spoke long and smoothly, shewing the scandal himself and others had taken at the doctrine they had heard preached, especially that they were condemned, 1, as unjust invaders ; 2, as contemners, and tramplers under foot of the ordinances ; 3, as persecutors of the ministers of Ireland, That as they were unwilling to offend us by a public contra- dicting in the church, so they expected we would be willing to give them a reason when they craved it in private. We shewed our willingness to give a reason either for these three or what else was excepted against in any of our sermons. The time appointed for this was this day at two o'clock, at Cromwell's lodgings ; but this morning he sent us word it would be to-morrow at that same time and place he would attend us. We trust, by the grace of God, not to speak for the disad- vantage of the truth and cause in hand. Let the Lord make of this what he will, we had no will to begin, and have no plea- sure to continue any conference with any of these men, but all of us conceive it was unavoidable, without a greater scandal to do what we have done. The Lord be with you." The result of this meeting is given in a letter by Baillie, who says, " How our conference with Cromwell was contrived, or for what ends, I may well guess, but can affirm nothing. It was put on us that we could not decline it. You will see the sum of it drawn by Mr. James Gutherie and Mr, Patrick Gilles- pie, the main speakers, we had no disad- vantage in the thing." Cold comfort this, indeed, to the ministers' hopes and fears, who had probably found Cromwell and his officers as good debaters and skilful theologians as they were themselves. Cromwell was inclined to be favourable to the ministers of Scotland, whom, as a xl APPENDIX. body of men, he respected for their piety and intelligence, but whose prejudices made them look upon him, being a " Sec- tarie," or Independent, as a species of wild animal. To the antiquary, the house named " Cromwell's lodgings,'' iii which these conferences took place, can now only be mentioned, it having been pulled down about 30 years ago, to widen and improve the street. It was situated in the Salt- market, opposite the entrance to Bridge- gate. From its once local celebrity, the following tracings of its history now become interesting. " We have every reason to believe that this house was built about two centuries ago, by Robert Campbell of Silvercraigs, formerly " of Elie," who married a daughter of James Stewart of Floak, and to whose son it belonged in 1664 — this opinion, indeed, is, it may be said, confirmed by knowing that conspicuous on its front were placed, surmounted by the national arms, two sculptured shields, one of which bore the gyron quarterings of the family of Argyll, and the other the cognizances of the houses of Campbell and Stewart party per pale. The following brief history of the buiding, after it had passed out of the possession of the Campbells of Silvercraigs may be thought worthy of notice. We find that in 1703, it belonged to Walter Scott, bro- ther to the Laird of Roxbtirn; in 1710, to Sir Robert Pollock of Pollock; in 1714, to Alexander Hamilton of Cranikeath or Grange; in 1716, to James Montgomerie of Perston, late Bailie of Glasgow; in 1734, to Patrick Montgomerie, his heir; in 1758, to the Partners of the United Companies of the Wester and King Street Sugar Houses; in 1766, to Archibald Mac Gilchrist, Town Clerk of Glasgow; in 1 781 , to Donald Mac Gilchrist, his Son; and in 1 603, to Mrs. Catherine Mac Gil- christ, Spouse of the Rev, Dr. Balfour, one of the Ministers of Glasgow, and others as heirs portioners of the said Donald Mac- Gilchrist, their brother." — ( Fiews and Notices of Glasgow in Former Times, by Robert Stuart. Glasgow, 1848, p. 99. J In addition to the particulars given, re- miniscences carry back to the time, when, at a short distance to the eastward of the house, there was a spacious garden well stocked with fruit trees, a handsome sun dial in its centre, raised on a • circular flight of steps, and all around, from the vicinity of the situation to the public Green, bore the appearance of much rural beauty. This garden had been originally part of the property attached to the house. The latter was, at the period referred to, en- tirely possessed by a tall stately independ- ent looking gentleman, known from his legal office as " Clerk" MacGilchrist, to whom, in that quarter, all of inferior note paid some outward mark of respect, and who, with the true antiquarian spirit, would not permit an atom or vestige of its ancient features to be mutilated or im- paired. This gentleman may be said to have been the latest occupier of the house worthy of it, which after his death was let out in portions to a variety of tenants, and made subservient to the ignoble purposes that degraded the last days of its fallen fortunes in being filled with second hand furniture, and other gatherings of brokers' merchandise. The building was of two stories, with high garret windows, massive and durable in its construction, and might have braved many centuries of time. While being pulled down, the writer had the curiosity to watch the pro- gress of the demolition. Its chief beams and a great proportion of the interior lin- ings, Ac, were of excellent oak. The prin- cipal apartment where Cromwell must have held his levees, was large and commodious, and richly ornamented on the roof with stucco work. IWodern im- provements are gradually depriving us of such relics of antiquity, yet with some regret may we be permitted to cast a " longing, lingering look behind." Note 54. Mr. Gillespie was the first Minister at the opening of the Outer High Church, and was in high favour with Cromwell. When the latter visited Glasgow in 1650, he sent for the preacher, and entertained him hospitably, with the adjunct of a long prayer, which had such a marvellous effect in converting him, that he immediately gave out that Cromwell was surely one APPENDIX. sli of the elect. Baillie, and a feve of his col- leagues do not, however, appear to have viewed matters in such a favourable light. He says, fLetter to Spang, 1 9th July, 1654,) " After much whispering with the English, at last ane order and command wes presented to us by our Rector from the English Judges, to accept Mr. Pat- rick '(Gillespie,) whom they, according to their power, had appointed our Principal!. Mr. John Young, Mr. James Veitchj and Mr. Bichard Robertson were willing to doe what wes desyred ; hut the most part of the Facultie, Mr. George Young, Dean, Mr. Zacharie Boyd, Vice-Chancellor, I, and Mr. Patrick Young, dissented and protested," &c. Gillespie was ejected from office at the Restoration in 1660. Note 65. Extracts from " The Presbytery and Ses- sion Records of Glasgow" — 1624, April, 1. Prayers to begin at 7 morning and at 5 night — 1626, Aug. 3. All the Travellers in town are summoned and accused for tra- velling on Sabbath, and yet not travelling on Zuil day though a week day — 1627, Feb. 15. Intimation than none go to the North of England to be married under the pain of one hundred pounds^ and craving marriage of the Kirk, and if they have not money they will be banished this congregation perpetually — 1628. Sear- chers appointed for Monday, to go through the town to see who Bann or Swear — 1635, Jan. J . An act lamenting the great profanation of the Sabbath and strict orders anent it, and declaring the Sabbath to be from 12 on Saturday night to 12 on Sunday night. Oct. 23. Compear two married persons, and declare that they are content to separate one from the other, till God send more love into their hearts — and the man promises to give his wife so much yearly. Dec. 5, Mention of a Correction House — 1637, April 27. Discharged the working or making of Bonnets on Sabbath, from 5 in the morn- ing till 8 at night— 1639, Dec. 8. That each family by order of the General Assembly, is to buy a little book called Family Exercise — 1640, July 23. A Reader appointed to read each Thursday and Tuesday, from the Second Bell till the Minister come in. July 30. The Session considering the great disorder that hath been in the Kirk by women sitting with their heads covered in time of Sermon, sleeping that way, ordains intimation to be made, that afterwards none shall sit with their heads covered with plaids in time of sermon. Aug. 18. That the Ports be shut on Sabbath at 1 2, and to observe none go out or come in travelling, and watchers set where there are no Forts. That Masters of Schools as well English as Latin, cause their Scholars convene after the afternoon sermon, and instruct them in the grounds of the Christian Religion. None to keep schools but such as the Magistrates approve of — 1641, Jan. 8. In pursuance of an Act of Assembly at Aberdeen, the taking away of Superstitious Monuments recommended to the Council. Jan. 17. Appoints a number to go to see what of these are in the High Kirk, and abolish them — Next day they reported that they found only three that could be called so. The five wounds of Christ, the Holy Lamb, and Quintigerne ora pro nobis. Mar. 11. Requests the Magistrates to have them down through the town, viz. ; all superstitious pictures, crucifixes, &c. Mar. 25. A long set recommending this to all the inhabitants to take them away out of their private houses. April 15. One stands before the pulpit for absence — 1642, May 19. A marriage stopped till the man learn the Ten Com- mandments, the Lord's Prayer, and Belief — 1643 July, 20. That none win to the Sessions loft till the Sessioners be placed, and also to raise out of the four seats all that wear blue bonnets. Aug. 3. A woman for giving the searcher ill language and for being absent from the Kirk on the fast day to pay 5 pds., and appear on the Form and be rebuked — 1645, Dec. 4. That no horse meat, nor any other thing be cryed through the Streets on Sabbath, and that no water be brought in after the first Bell, to the forenoon sermon. No persons to frequent Lyke wakes under the highest pains of the Session — 1646, Jany. 8. Intimation that all come to xlii APPENDIX. Sermons in due time, and not in time of prayer and preaching, with certification. July 30. That vomen who appear on the pillar with plaids, and holds not down their plaids from their heads, it shall not be esteemed a day of their appearance. Penitents to enter the place of repentance as soon as the minister comes to the pulpit. Dec. 2. Compeared a Minister and Elder with a supplication from Perth, they being visited with the pestilence, (or Egyptian plague.) A collection for them on Sunday next. Mention of trenches that people walked beside on Sabbath. Gram- mar School to be visited — 1647, May 27. Pillars and a place of public repentance to be made in the New Kirk and Black- friars, and the Council to be applied to for erecting them. Intimation from the pulpits that every family have family worship, morning and evening, and those who have it not to be debarred from the Communion. Two hair gowns bought for the use of the Kirk — 1648, April 18. The danger of it not altogether away, and some speak of what are on "the Muir," (for the pestilence)— 1649. Intimation, that those who go out before the blessing be pronounced will be noticed and censured— ^1650, March 22. Such as will not pay their monthly maintenance for the poor to be debarred from the Communion. Becommend to the Ministers to consider of the word " Mary," usually spoken. July 6, Inti- mation, that any who knows any point of witchcraft or sorcery against any person in this Burgh, that they delegate the same to any of the Ministers — 1651, April 35. Mention several times of the enemy's being in town, (Cromwell's troops) — 1652. Resolved and thought meet that there be reading and expounding of Scripture weekly through all the days of the week at four hours at night in the Laigh Kirk, and the bell to ring a quarter of an hour till the hour chap. The dead Bellman censured, and continued in office, but ordained to omit the word "Faithfule,'' and to eschew the repetition of the name of God. May 6. The Ministers to speak to dying persons who are able to leave anything to the poor. June 19, The Session met on the occa- sion of the said Fire (in the Saltmarket, Ssc.,) on Thursday, June 17, at one afternoon, and continuing till the Friday near that time. They thought fit that Thursday next shall be a day of solemn humiliation. — June. There was a collection through the kingdom for Glasgow on occasion of the sad fire. Dec. 27. The whole roll of the poor is 437 lib. The Magistrates only stent the Town with 300 lib, and refer the rest to the ordinary collection." Note 56. Whether this Portrait had been painted at private or College expense, does not ap- pear. The following entry occurs, (Muni- menta,yol.III., p. 444, anno 1698,) "Mr. William Dunlop, principall of the Colledge of Glasgow, gave in the Original Picture of Mr. Zachary Bofde, some time Minis- ter of the Barronie Kirk of Glasgow, and Vice-Chancellour of this University, who had been a great benefactor to the same." The open Book in bis hand is inscribed inside " The Last Battell," &c. Note 57. After his recovery from fever, and on the publication of the " Last Battell " in 1629, his ministerial and literary friends crowd around him with their Latin panegyricai Odes, as Johannes Belvs, (John Bell) Glasguensia, Ecclesiae Pastor et Aoademise Beotob — Johannes Stbangits, (John Strang) S.S. Theo- logize D. et Academise Glaiguensu Prae- /ectiM— Hoc amoris ergo scribebat Jo, i2ayus,',( John Ray) ludi publici litterarii Moderator, Edinburgi, &e. The taste of the age allowed an Author to prefix such testimonies to his works without bringing him under the charge of self- glorification. m m ®i^e ^intovit of gonn^. The Speakers. 1. The Lord. 2. Jonah. 3. The Shipmaster. 4. The Sailors. 5. The King of Ninive. 6. The Men of Ninive, acje EorB. I PLAY \nth kingdomes as with Tenice Balls, Some I fell downe, and some I raise that falls : When cities great give ov'r them selves to sin, They turn like mist uphaled by the sunne : When strongest holds are battr'd by my strength. They lose their ground and tumble downe at length ; I heape up vengeance upon sinful! souls. And write their sins upon most ample scrowles.* In great Assyria there's a city rare Call'd Ninive, that is to say most faire.t ' The eight opening lines of this Poem would do no discredit to the genius of some of our best Old English Poets. ■f Nineveh was the Capital of the Assyrian Empire, and one of the most ancient cities of the world — Mosul, in the province of Dearbekir, 4 This Ninus Sonne of Belus by his might, Did build most glorious in the worlds sight : It is so large that who would bee't without, Must have three dayes to compasse it about : Unto this day I have heene good unto it, But what I bid they doe decline to doe it : This city's wealth doth make her wits to waver, My wrath it bums, what men have force to save her ? Some ruthlesse sword deafe to their shouts and cries. Shall sack that city, and shall it surprize : For all their crimes shall come without reliefe, On young and old, most sable times of griefe : They shall he charged with great charge* of woes, 'Gainst whom Fm wroth, they never want their foes : Their day comes fast, I will no more suspend. They sleepe in sloath unmindfull of their end : on the west bank of the Tigris, is generally supposed to occupy the same site. — This famous City is reported to have had walls one hundred feet high, and so broad that three chariots might run abreast upon them ; and to have been in circumference at least forty eight miles — others compute the extent as enclosing an area of seventy-five miles, &c., — part of which contained large pleasure grounds and cultivated fields, as well as dwelling houses and public buildings. — The population is variously estimated, as at six hundred thousand souls, and at two millions five hun- dred thousand. — After the visit of Jonah, dated A.M. 3142 B.C. cir, 862, it is said, that in consequence of ' the general repentance and humiliation of the inhabitants, the destruction of the city was post- poned for two hundred years ; but wickedness having risen to a height, in the third year of the siege by the combined forces of the Medesand Babylonians it was totally sacked and rased. — The 3iscovery in late years of so many interesting relics of the magnificent Nineveh, must be considered a remarkable corroboration of the Scripture testimony, as to its magnitude and importance. • Load. of JonaJ. ITiis city's proud, she seemes the world's great Hall, The Monarch's seat, high Court Imperiall, A nest of vice, a dungeon deepe of demlls, A very forge house for all maner of evills ; Her streets are fill'd with men who still blaspheme, Who teare my titles and profane my Name, At every word vile blasphemy they breath. Tea and in scorne make Beth'ricJc of an oath : They eate, they drink, they sleepe, and also whoore, Their god's their bely, they neglect the poore : Under heav'ns Baudrick* no vile sinnes there 9e, But they most rife doe reigne in Ninive ; Their wickedness it is in such a store, That high it's mounted and comes me before. Yet sith I'm God I slow am to destroy, Before I strike, some Prophet I'le employ. To preach to them that they may judgment heare, Some reck not mercy, but will judgment feare. Amittais Sonne fites for what I intend, I wiU in haste to Niniveh him send. To cry aloud, that that infamous town Shall bee destroy'd, and sack't, and batter'd downe. Ho ! Jonah, come and flee with wings of Dove, To me your Lord now testify your lore : See that in you at all be ho omission, For to discharge what yee get in commission ; I send you now, this yee must understand, Not unto Jewes, but to th' Assyrian land, * Zone or Canopy. €fie WitovU Whose wickednesse which groweth more and more, Is growne most high, and up come me before : Among those lands profanenesse most I see. In that great city called Ninive. Arise, he gone, it is not time to stay, When God commands men should recke no delay : Blow loud thy trumpet ; if they ask thee why ? Say that the Lord commanded thee to cry ; Let not the beauty of their buildings bleare* thee, Nor let the terrour of their Rampersf feare thee ; I send comforters,^ others I with charges^ Send with commission for to be Bonerges, To thunder downe proud hearts with fiery flashes. Of threatening sermons fuU of loud menaces : Rouze up that city in their drowsie times. Lest vengeance find them sleeping in their crimes. Hye, hye thee soone to Ninive so mighty. And cry against that great and wanton city. This message strange doth seeme to me most bad, 'Mong all the Prophets who the like have had ? Was't ever heard that Israel was neglected. That Gentiles roak't|| in sin might be respected ? In Israel Prophets have enough to doe," • Dim your eyes. f Ramparts. J Those who speak peaceable things. § Messages or " burdens" in Scripture phraseology. 1] Cradled and lulled. of Jonai). They from their charge soe farre may hardly goe, To other lands where but miscreants dwell, Preach as wee please they proudly will rebell : Their hearts are hard, they sermons will not heare. And though we threaten, yet they will not feare r Will I get accesse ? will my words get place, 'Mong such who are a stubborn rebell race ? rie preach in vain, that city as I think. Is like bad cloth which doth in wetting shrink :* How can I think my wordes shall there succeede. Which are so loath'd by flocks I daUy feede. In Israel which belongs unto the Lord, And daily have such plenty of his word ? If that the Lord can not make Israel mourne, How can greene wood be moved for to burne ? Another thus afirights me by and by, Is that he bids me 'gainst the city cry. And threaten judgment, this I clearely kno. That though I should to Ninive now goe. And cry aloud, yet bee is so inclin'd To pardon sinners, and to change his mind. If they but weepe a little, so shall I Incurre a blot, and shame my prophecy. Upon such thoughts I'm tossed to and fro, I would both stay, and also I should goe ; Some thoughts me urge that yet I would delay. And others some doe bid me flee away. It's best I think that I myself bedight, * Se, " Wauhs in," or becomes thicker by wetting. 8 With what will fit me for a hasty flight : As I resolve Fie heere no longer stay, rie ship my self to seeke another way : I'le skulk the place where God hath sent me to, For Niniye 1 will to Tarshish go : I'le change my gowne now for a ship man's weede, And from the Lord I wiU away with speede, To Joppa, where I mind to goe aboord. That I may flee the presence of the Lord. Loe heere in Joppa at my coming hither, I see a ship strong to abide the weather ; As I perceive to saile they ready are, Most willingly I'le pay thereof the fare : I see the sailors drinking parting cup, When that is done, the sailes they will hoyst up. Now all's aboord ; the anchors they doe way. The keele begins the Rudder to obey. Wee leave the key behind us at our back, There's great appearance wee'le good voyage mak. No storme there is but a sweet gentle gale, Which makes the canvas of our sailes to swell, {And see* our ifessel) glide along the shore ; , • In the course of this and the subsequent Poems, one or more words will be occasionally found enclosed within (Parenthesis) which have been supplied in consequence of the Manuscript being either deficient or illeffible. This has been thought an improvement, rather than leaving blanks in the text, in order to assist the reader more readily to follow out the subject. In respect to these Supplements, the Editor cannot say farther, than that in his apprehension, according to the running of the rhyme and the spirit of the narrative, they may be supposed, as near as possible, to convey the meaning of the of '^onalj. Where winds well serve, there is no needs of oare : Her motion's nimble, she outstrips the Tide, Out braves the Billowes, and on waves doth ride ; She plies that course her compasse sets her on, If thus wee saile, wee'le Tarshish gaine anone. CJe !tor». It is my mind to suffer for a space. That seas be calme, and that the winds doe cease : lie let the Main saile flap against the yard. So that no use of Compasse or of Card* Be for a space, that when the storme shall blowe So suddenly, the sailors then may know. That Heaven's in wrath against some wicked sinner, That is aboord the ship, and lurketh in her. O yee, my winds that hitherto your course Have barred in, breake out with all your force : To (let them) know my wrath is kindled hot, Make (seas) to swell ev'n like a seething pot ; Blowe hard (untill) to hellst they downe be driv'n. And (mount againe) up to the very Heav'n. What meanes this worJce ? wee had a gentle calme, And now wee 're quash 'd and by a sudden (qualme); original MS. Much difference of Orthography in the same words will also be sometimes found, which was usual with writers of our Author's period. * Sea Chart, t Depths. 10 Ane houre agoe of compasse and of card Wee had no use, hut still against the yard The flagging mainsaile flapt, but now at last, The angry heav'ns doe blowe a wrathfull blast : The winds before had barred in their course. And now at length breake out with stronger force. Like one who in at first his hreath doth draw. That out againe hee may it stronger blow : While from the top mast I the heav'ns espy, And see how sudden dark'ned is the sky. With gloomy clouds, and see our ship so driv'n, I tokens see of a provoked heav'n : The mist growes thick, wee see not lesse or more, If wee be farre or neare unto the shore : Our Rudder failes, our ship's at randome driv'n. All is obscur'd, wee scarse see sea or heav'n. Ho ! sailors, see If yee can Land discerne, I'le endeavour for to hold fast the Sterne ; Let each one keepe his place as I command. At foredeck some, at hindeck some must stand : The tackling's broken, riv'n is the Main-saUe, The sea doth roare, the surges up doe swell. And which is worse, as I doe understand, The force of seas hath broke the Rudder-band : Except this storme anone begin to slack. Wee can not saile, but shipwrack wee will mak ; If that the mist bereav'd us not of day, Wee neare this place might find some Rode or Bay, Where wee securely might let anchor fall. And ride at lee till paste this stormy brawl ; 11 But all's in vaine, wee know not where wee goe, Like locusts toss'd, 'wee roll both to and fro : The winds above, the waters underneath, Have both conspir'd that wee should dye the death : Consider well before a leek begin. It seemes I heare the water wheesing in : Cause ply the pump, set sprit saile to the wind. Take quickly downe the Misen saile {behind) ; Set up the Trinket, take the Bounets downe From ev'ry saile, the welkin so doth frovone, And Boreas blowes so fierce upon the mast. Great danger is that ship and all be lost : The wambling sea with waves our hearts doth wound, The heav'n wee scale, and after fall to ground : The sable aire doth muffle up the sky, And 'gainst our face winds bluster by and by. Wee heare no thing but belloweing of the wind. Confused noise of men dismay 'd in mind. Our skill doth faile, wee worke in vaine this day, Sith strength and skill doe faile, it's best to pray, And cry unto our gods ; Let ev'ry man Cry to his god, and doe the best hee can ;* * The Author relates the following characteristic anecdote in one of his Sermons. — "In the time of the French Persecution, I came by sea to Flanders, and as I was sailing from Flanders to Scotland, a fearefull tempest arose which made our mariners reele to and fro, and stagger lilce drunken men. In the meane tyme there was i> Scots Papist wlio lay neere mee. While the ship gave a great shake I observed the man, and after the Lord had sent a calme, I said to him, ** Sir, now yee see the weaknesse of your religion ; as long as yee are in prosperitie yee cry to this Sainct and that Sainct ; in our great danger I heard you cry often Lord, Lord, but not a word yee spake of our Lady." 12 If one will not, perhaps another will, If one not knowe, another may have skill. Among the gods as wee instructed be. Some rule the lands, and some command the sea. Yet, for all this, all darkness still about, Wee'le light the burden and the wares cast out : Spare not for price, cast out of ev'ry sort — Who can this bee who I heare highly snort ? I see a man that's in the lower deck. Hard fast a^eepe, not fearing storme nor leek ; I with my fist will thump him on the brest. And rouse this sluggard from his uncouth rest. Oh how this heast my heart it doth disdaine. Though I him jog and shake, its all in vaine : If he not snor'd I sure would think him dead, For all our cryes he stirres not feet nor head. Unto this fellowe yet againe I'le goe. And with my hand will give a shrug or two, Till I him tug and pull, both breast and back. No thing but force will cause this man awake : While thus and thus I have ev'n thumped him. He but begins for to drawe up a limme, And stretch ane arme, and open up his eye. As when at first wee men doe wak'ning see. What mean'st thou sleeper ? hast thou not at all, A God on whom thou usest for to call. When troubles come ? arise and seeke releefe. In open ruine on the Rocks of griefe : feele thy wants, and with sad showring eyes. Cry to thy God to cure our Miseries : of ^onajb- If so that bee, God will us think upon, This is the thing that by thee should he done : The ship it must be crammed with impuritie, Sith that thou ly'st in such securitie. Arise and cry, no more spend idle houres. Try if thy God will rather help then ours : What puffing rage is ? who ever did see. Such froathy waves with J)illowes on the sea ? Wee range about, and can not find the way, Both doubtfuU where to goe, or where to stay : Within this ship there surely is a Devill, Or some that's guilty of some fearfull evill. Wee'le call a parley that wee by and by, May find him out, or by the lots him try : It's best that wee to mind now call anone. The several! items of what wee have done : Till this bee done, sure nothing will asswage. Those rolling waves which swell with foamy rage ; With floods of teares all blubber'd are our eyes. Yet all our gods are deafe to these our cries : It likely is that untiU they be pleas'd. Cry what wee will, wee never will be eas'd. But at the last their wrath with great disdaine, Upon some Rocks will split our ship in twaiae. There must be heere the cause of all our greefe, Some Atheist Dog, some {halter 'scaped) theefe. Now cast the lots that wee among us all. May know for whom this trouble doth befall. As wee desir'd the Pilot he hath done, The Lot wee see is Jonah fall'n upon ; 13 €f)t Witovit 14 Wee hope the winds their bellowing wiU asswage, And that we guiltlesse wiU escape their rage, Sith wee have found the man that is the cause, Of aU those surges and most fearfuU flaws. Now is it so that from thy evil oflfence, Our Spring-tyde sorrowes have Ijieir influence ? From heav'n such blasts a, ship did never thriU, The waves that swell, the tempest rageth still : Our ship can hardly with her Keele divide Th' encountering waves of such a furious tide ? Wake out of sleepe, tell us wee pray anone, Who is the cause this ev'U is us upon, Whence comest thou now tell ? what is thy Nation ? Declare to us what is thy occupation ; What is thy country, wherein thou wast borne ? And of what people, thou art so forlorne ? Unhappy Catif, what was in thy thought, A strange disaster thou hast on us brought. Some greevous faults brought with thee to this In,* Of aU the heav'ns ecclipsed have the sin : The clouds are black, the drops their froth doe fly. Like darted haUestones from the cloudy sky : The sea is rageing far beyond its wount, Each wave doth seeme to be a froathy mount. Goe to, Goe to, thou wretch, and teU us soon. What is that fact so foule that thou hast done ? • Meant generally by our Author for any place of habitation. Relate the whole that wee may understand, Both what thou art, and also in what land Thou hast been bred, and what it is that thus. Hath moved thee to come aboord with us. ^onaj^. I am a man come of the Hebrew Nation, I am a Prophet, that's my occupation : I feare the Lord, the God of heav'n most hy. Who made the Sea, and als the Land that's dry. Hee with his word sent me to Ninive, But from his presence I in feare doe flee. And mind for Tarshish 'gainst the Lord's command, For mee therefore he hath lift up his hand ; Which makes the surges froathy for to swell. Whiles up to heav'n, and whiles wee goe to hell. €it ^ailord. Thoii seest those times are sable times of greefe. Though wee expect, yet get wee no releefe. The Ocean swells with a most furious tide, Ov'r froathy mounts our Barge is made to ride. We have no thing but death before our eyes. The ruthlesse billowes deafe are to our cryes ; By thy great sins thou hast provoked God, Who thee pursues with an enraged Rod ; Thou know'st the right and yet hast done amiss. What is the cause, and why hast thou done this ? Our wares are lost, upon the seas they float. And wee are all within a brittle boat. 15 16 Wee sure will perish in the same together, ( Under the heavy) press of such a weather, (7m this sad) straite no out gate wee can find, ( That much) the thoughts disquiet of our mind : The sable clouds are thicke, no light of day Can usher us in such a misty way : As wee perceive, let us doe what wee can, Wee'le not be able now this ship to manne. Our limbs are tyred, they wax faint and lather, , Our hearts are downe, our knees doe smit together : The seas doe swell, ev'n to the very roof Of highest clouds, our Bark's not weather proof. What shall wee doe ? the tempest lends not eare Unto our cryes, all things increase our feare ; Our ship almost is by the surges rent, The time by us in needlesse paines is spent : The clouds grow thicker, and the heav'ns about. Wee can no more hence keepe this batt'ry out : Thou art a Prophet, counsel] give this day, Wee'le to the same be buxome ev'ry way ; The counsels that from other men doe come. Hath no more weight then hath a speaklesse plume. My sins are double, this I doe confesse. None but the Lt Witotit 18 Wee see those seas which furious so arise, Will not be pleas'd but with this sacrifice : There's no refuge, wee must obey the lot. This man must die if that wee perish not ; Wee can not beare the burden of his guilt. Nor pay the price of blood that must be spilt : Sith from the heat'n^ given forth is this decree, Wee ministers must of God's Justice be. Yet, if the seas would caJme and be at peace. Wee gladlie would from such a fact surcease : To drowne a man it fills our hearts with feares. For this our eyes are pickled up with teares. That are most brinie ; yet it may befall. That God for him his sentence will recall, And calme the storme, and Jonah's fault forgive. And spare us all, and so let Jonah live. what a storme ! from side to side wee 're tost, Wee'le shipwrack make upon some sands or coast : The darknesse growes, wee scarcely see the heav'n, ( TJiere's no) appearance for to gaine a hav'n : Euroclydon a most tempestuous wind. Us {drives apace), so that wee can not find An anch'ring place, but wee are like to fall Into quicksands, to lose the ship and all : The ship is lightned, and we at the last With our own hands have out the tackling cast ; Both sunne, moone, starres, are darkned with the skyes, A furious tempest now upon us lyes. No Bay, no anch'ring can at all be found. Our tossed ship doth from the starres rebound ; of ^onajb- The dread and danger's great on evry side, So that wee know not what to doe or bide. Ho ! Pilot, cause cast out the sound before, And try how deepe wee draw, if lesse or more ; Hoise up some saile, and loose the Rudder bands, Plye somewhat Eastward, for to shun the sands That lye in banks ; wee carefully will seeke. If that wee can discover any creeke ; If one that is commodious might he found, Wee would be glade to runne the ship aground ; If this we can by skill and labour gaine. As wee suppose our purpose wee'le obtaine. The storme doth rage, our labours are deluded. It seemes the Heav'ns against us have concluded, For to deny unto this man a passage. Because he hath contemn'd his God's Embassage : Great wrath's for those who should in purest light, Shine unto such that grope in errours night. Who should like lamps before the darkned eye. Blaze clearlie bright, and yet in darknesse lye ; In aU appearance this man's God is hee. Who with his reines doth rule the winds and sea : With winds and waves he scourgeth us about. His will's wee see to cast the rebell out : What hee ordaines wee must the same fulfill. And suit our service to his sacred will : If wee delay hee may raise up a Tide, To splite our ship and drowne ourselves beside : It's best that wee his summons now obey, By this wee hope seas shall be ebb'd away. 19 20 And winds shall cleare, and wee no more thus driv'n, Shall be brought safe unto our wished hav'n, A boisterous wind, yet with a stronger gale, Our tossed ship most fiercely doth assaUe ; Springs the maine mast, which then doth in its fall Breake downe the deck, which doth affright us all. Wee sit our time, why do we thus delay ? Wee'le get no rest untill that wee obey ; The winds not tyre, but stUl do louder blowe, Andprouder surges still us over flowe : Lay to your armes, and help in haste afford. This Jonah take and cast him over boord : As we perceive no other meanes we see. That raging seas may calme and quiet bee. Now over boord hee throwne is by and by. Where in the waters he doth sprawling ly : There Jonah is, God's wrath for to appease, Ev'n head and eares downe soused in the seas. But what is this that near him wee doe see. Like to a tower wambling on the sea ; A monster great, the Leviathan strong, With beame like jawes which followes him along : A little space the whale did (round him play), To*waite his time, but in a [short delay) He wheel'd about, and (in a trice wee sawe) The hving man he buri'd (in his mawe). Waves rest content, the surges no more beate, The sea's growne kind, the billowes no. more threate. All is made quiet, clouds no more doe frowne, Heav'ns pleased well, doe with their smiles look, downe, Waves swell'd before lye levell in their place, Without a wrinkle, smooth as is the glasse : No wambling's now, the sea it is tranquill, Heav'ns lowre no more, all is both calme and still. This God of Jonah as we clearlie see. Is he who doth command the winds and sea. And not our gods which wee have doted on. Which have in straits no consolation. For to afford, when as men call upon them. When troubles great at random thus fall, on them. Hence forth to God wee'le sacrifice afford, And make our vows, hence he shall be our Lord. Heere unto him wee make a solemn vowe. That wee no more wiU unto puppets bowe : From paganisme wee will change, to hallow His Name, and him wee will resolve to follow. With all our heart, for wee now understand. That hee's the God that rules both sea and land, Of kindnesse, mercy, love, a peerelesse mirrour. Him onely wee wUl serve, and leave our errour. Sonab. I did rebell ; heere is my day of Doome, Feasts dainty seeme untill the reck'ning come : Alas ! too late, it now repenteth me. That I refus'd to goe to Ninive ; I thought to lurk, but now my miseries Me clearely tell, God hath unvailed eyes, And that hee will ov'rtake them by and by, Who ev'r they bee that from his face doe fly : 21 22 I understood that God was good and kind, But mongrell thoughts with foly pierc'd my mind, Heere apprehended, I in prison ly. What goods will ransome my captivity? *What house is this, where's neither fire nor candle,t Where I no thing but guts of fishes handle ? I, and my table, are both heere within. Where day ne'er dawn'd, where sun did never shine. The like of this on earth man never saw, A living man within a monster's mawe ; Buried under mountains which are high and steep, Plung'd imder water hundrethe fathomes deep. Not so was Noah in his house of tree. For through a window hee the light did see : Hee saird above the highest waves, a wonder, I, and my boat, are all the waters under. Hee in his ark might goe and also come. But I sit stUl in such a strait 'ned roome. As is most uncouth, head and feet together, *Among such grease as would a thousand smother : I find no way now for my shrinking hence. But heere to lye and die for mine oflfence : Eight persons were in Noah's hulk together, Comfortable they were each one to other, In all the earth like unto mee is none, Farre from aU living I heere lye alone, *Where I entomb'd in melancholy sink, *Choak't, suffocat, with excremental stink : ■f The famous Extract, given by Pennant the celebrated Antiquary in his Worlts — from • to *, and two following ' '. of ^onaj^. This grieves mee most, that / for grievous sinne, Incarc'rd lye within this floating In, Within this cave with greefe my heart is gall'd, Lord heare the sighs from my heart's centre hal'd ; Thou know'st how long I have been in this womb, A living man within a living tomb ; what a lodging ! wilt thou in those vaults. As in a Hell most dark, correct my faults ? 1 neither kno when day doth shine, or night Comes for my rest, I'm so depriv'd of sight ; Though that the judgement's uncouth sure I share, I of God's goodnesse never will despaire, I'le turne to him, and in those words wiU pray Within this whale ; what God indits I'le say. The Prayer op Jonah in the Whale's Belly, 1. By reason of my trouble, I to God who heard me cry'd. Out of hell's belly did I cry. Thou heard'st my voice, I cry'd. 2. For thou hast cast me in the deepe, in midst ev'n of the sea. Floods compast me, thy billowes all, and waves past over me. 3. Then said I, I out of thy sight, am cast with great disdaine ; Tet to thy holy temple, I at last will look againe. 4. The waters compast me about, eo'n to the soul indeed, They deeply ma inclos'd, and weedes were wrapt about my head. 23 24 C{ie Witovit 5. Unto the bottomes I went downe, of mountaines high that bee. Likewise the earth was with her bars for ever about mee. 6. Yet thou who art the Lord my God, now by thy power alone. My life in danger great hast brought, up from corruption. 7. The Lord I did remember, when my soule did faint in me. Into thy holy temple cam^, my prayer unto thee. 8. They that doe lyeing vanities, observe in any way. The mercy then that is their own, they doe forsake alway. 9. But I to thee with voice of thankes, will sacrifice afford, I will what I have vowed pay, SahiatioiCs of the Lord. Above all Gods Lord thou dost excell, I hope thou'lt free me from this paunch of Hell, And that thou wilt this monster now command, That it disgorge me out upon the land. draw me out of this my moving cave. And bring thy Jonah from this living grave, heare my prayers from this darksome place, 1 with {my teares) flee to thy throne of grace. Ciie aora. I ready am when sinners to me cry, To helpe them out of balefuU misery, 25 As soone as men get grace for to repent, Mj mercy must then have for them a vent : With waters Jonah compass'd is about, At last I mind to let the pris'ner out : Three dayes he heere, and three nights als hath sit. Now by my might I'le free him from his pit. JonaJ. Lord I will praise thy mercy Ev'n and Morne, Thy love by time can never be outworne : But 0, alas ! our thoughts from thee soone wander. Our heart's most ready for to be a pander, Us to entice to fly from God above. And for to chuse some idol for our love : And what ere's ready for to twist and wind. Within the very bosome of our mind : Without thy help the strongest hath not power. To hold out siege the scruple of ane hour : Give me thy sp'rit to be my bosome friend, That when thou callldst, thou ready may'st me find. Cj&e aortt. The spaniel dog he loves his Masters eye. And licks his fingers, and low downe doth ly. Still at his feet his goeings to attend ; But men whom I have loved without end. Doe hate my light, and love to be in dark, Whence like to curres they doe against me bark : By me they live and move, from me they have, What blessings I can give, or they can crave : E 2(5 They are like swine though pampered with enough, They lift their eyes no higher than the trough, That this is true all men may clearely see, Within the gates of wealthy Ninive. I'le Jonah send yet for the second time, That so he may convince them of their crime, And let them know that Heav'ns high commander, Will for their riot, judgements on them thunder. Now Jonah heare, whom I in seas did code Within Hell's belly ; play no more the foole, But be obedient, see thou sin no more. Lest worse befall thee after, then before : No place there is for to avoide my sight, Dreame not to balk me with a second flight : When I am wroth I'le strongest make to droop. And him to serv*that never yet could stoop. Now what I say doe thou well understand me. No more, no lesse, speak thou what I command thee : Thou must not for the greatest faces feare, To tune thy language to the people's-eare. But what from me thou gettest in commission. Deliver it, and that without omission. Say, fourtie dayes and men shall clearely see. That Ninive shall all destroyed be. The text is short, but in its large extension, Out runs the pace of humane apprehension, Bouze up that city thafs secure within. They live in scarlet, and they dye in sin : Make those my judgments glance first at their eyes. Till they be pricked for their miseries ; of Jowajb. 27 They know not God, but wand'ring in their way, Grope all in darknesse in the noone of day : Goe through their streets, and make {the clearest) mention, That all may heare this open proclamation, That Ninive, that great Imperiall towne, That swells in pomp, to ground shall be brought downe ; Against her sins, my judgements high display, And summon her unto the fourtie day. As yee command I'le goe to Ninive, Ev'n as an arrow to the mark doth flee ; No time Tie triffle, I'le no longer sit, I'le doe th' Bmbassye yee to me commit : Without all feare her princes to oflfend, I'le as ye bid, a threat'ning voice extend Through all her streets ; this I will take in hand, Though that she be Queene Regent of the land. The Citie's large, but yet I'le not refuse. To be the trump of most unwelcome news ; That Ninive, the world's great wonder, shall Soon be destroy'd, and into ashes fall : They who securely feasted, in their turne, For times of mirth shall now have times to mourne. /it's time to walk, I heere will stay no more, rie goe as speedy as I fled Vefore ; Sith God commands it's not for me to pity. The dismall downefall of so brave a city, Now it's in sight, tops of her towers so hy Doe so ascend, they seeme to scale the sky : 28 With Trinches strong she is environn'd round, Her walls are big, her bulwarks doe abound : Within her gates Fie enter by and by. And blow my trumpet, and begin to cry ; But fourtie days and men shall elearely see, That Ninive shall aU destroyed be : Ho ! City wake, and know your miseries, God will your sins judge with censoriou& eyes : Yee without bridle have in vices run, Sinne lyes at doores, ye cannot judgment shun, Yee waded have too far in sins unbounded. Now for that same, ye shall all be confounded. Butfourty dayes and men shall elearely see. That Ninive shall all destroyed bee. From this I'le goe unto another street. And warning give, for so I think it meet. That through the city I now goe abroad. That they may know this message is from God. Ho ! City, heare a message sent from heav'n. To preach to you commission hath been giv'n, I am the man whom God hath to you sent. To tell you that with haste yee aU repent. 'Ent fourtie dayes and men shall elearely see. That Ninive shall all destroyed bee, Heere's as I see the palace of the king, Before his gates I will this message bring. To you, O King, who rules all Ninive, I am sent from God, who doth command that yee. You humble quickly, and come downe anone, All cloth 'd in Sackcloth from your Royall Throne ; 29 Yee sit at ease while subjects on each side, Grone under tax for to maintain your pride : Because that yee none greater then you see, Ye doe imagine that hee, who's most hie Is not superior, to command your land. But this from me ye must now understand. That ready vengeance shall begird you round, And from your seat shall bring you to the ground : Yee swell in wealth, but soone yee shall be poore. Except that yee be groveUng on the floore. In dust and sackcloth, with unfeigned sorrowes. And trench your cheeks along with water furrowes. Rise from your Throne, and with sad showr'ing eyes. Strive to prevent so fearefuU miseries : Be not like those who start at every shade. But feare not where they ought to he afraid : Make hast, repent, and make no more delay, Though .God surcease he is but taking day* For sure paiment, till sinners ripened be, When God's in wrath most furious then is hee ; Hee'le royaU scepters break in pieces all. From heads of Kings hee'le make their crownes to fall, And sack their lands, and will make havock so, TUl all confus'dly topsy turvy goe : To thee, King, who hast dominions large, Frowns heav'ns above, to crush thy weighty charge. But fourtie dayes and men shall clearely see, That Ninive shall all destroyed be : • Or noting the time. 30 Now from the King to Nobles I will goe, I'le unto them my message tell also. Yee Nobles who in Ninive doe dwell, Who in great honour highly doe exceU, Dismount your lofty steeds, and prostrate bring, Your bodies humbl'd unto God the King ; God will now turne your pleasures to tormenting, Your whoops of joy to howles of sad lamenting : Your honour is but like a fickle flower. Which both doth bloome and fade within ane houre : Yee still delay repentance untill morrow, But now your towne shall he a stage of sorrow. 'Butfourtie dayes and men shall clearely see. That Ninive shall all destroyed bee ; Yee Magistra;ts that others doe command. And yet your duty doe not understand ; Ye are before the citizens in place. But come behind, where yee your roomes should grace. With wisdom, mildness, and sobriety ; Yee are aU. giv'n to riot, luxury. To drunkenesse, and gluttony in dyet. And to oppression, and to filthy riot : The honour that God hath unto you granted, May well be said, it is worse had then wanted : Your ill example citizens before. Hath egged others to sin more and more : Your conversation hath been very fickle, And now your towne is ready for the sickle. Butfourtie dayes and men shall clearely see, That Ninive shall all destroyed be. Yee Citizens who live in wealth and ease, Without all care the living God to please : Your flQsh yee pamper, idle without cure, Without respect to the distressed poore, Yee feede yourselves with a most daintie fare. Of God's service at all yee have no care : Your glory's like the spider's web alway, God shortly shall like dung you sweepe away. But fourtie dayes and men shall clearely see, That Ninive shall aU destroyed bee. Yee Women vaine, who with outstretched neck. Most proudly goe, who mind no thing but deck, Your Backs with silks, with golden lace ov'r laid, Yee have great cause this day to be afraid : God will the ruflfe of all your pride bring downe, Hee'le with a scab smite of your head the crowne. Your secret parts hee also will discover, And you with shame as with a mantle cover, About your feet of tinckling ornament, The bravery hee'le remove incontinent, The chaines, the bracelets, hee will from you tak( With mufflers, bonnets, which so rich yee make, The ornaments of legges and headbands deare. The tablets and the rings made for the eare ; The rich apparell, sutes als for to chaiuge, With mantles, wimples, crisping pinnes so strange. With polish'd glasses, and the linnen fine. And hoods, and vaUes made of the silken twine : This come to passe right shortly you shall see. That for sweet smeU a filthy stink shall be ; When as a girdle, renting shall thou (weare), 31 32 And baldnesse (be) in stead of well set haire, For stomachers you sackcloth soon shall see, In stead of beauty there shall burning be : Yee by your pride the power 'sort ov'r men Who are enforc'd to swelter in the sunne. And to be scorch 't in a most soultry weather, While as in troopes yee goe to feasts together : Yee would seeme lillys, hut yee are indeed As fruitlesse brambles, or the foulest weede. Tour day is neare, because that by your sin, Yee grace barre out, and vanitie bolt in. But /oMr*ie dayes and men shall clearely see, That Ninive shall all destroyed be. Change soone the byas of your wicked wayes. For Ninive shall last but fourty dayes : Your span of life is but for little space. Cry for God's mercy, and call for his grace. For spirituaJl duties take a speciall care. Spend not your time in frisling of your haire : Repent in time, lest that it come too late, The late repentings are oft out of date, When God's decree breaks forth men cry unheard. They howle to heav'n, but heav'n gives no regard. Repent in time, or else your Ninive, A very wardrop shall of sorrow be ; If that yourselves with hast yee not reforme. The great Jehovah wiU your city storme. Cj&c Mtn of Wfntbt. There is a prophet come from Israel, Hee fearefull things doth 'gainst this City tell : of Jonal). 33 A whole dayes (journey) preaching he hath had, The city's troubl'd, ev'ry soule is sad : The sucklings male, pale fac'd for fault of food, Doe from their miljtlesse mother's brests draw blood : A deeper vengeance will our city [stand), Than heere to fore hath come on any land : The man's a prophet as wee heare them say, Hee warns us of a stormy winter day, 'Gainst all estates ; lest that a flattering sleepe. Bribes them to rest, he threatens judgements deepe : Hee preacheth that of heav'n th' Almighty hand, Shall wound and wast the wealthiest of the land ; For our houses, [they] shall be scattr'd stones : And that our causies, pav'd with dead mens bones Shall swimme in blood, when maids and matrons both, Shall feel the dint of heav'ns that are so wroth ; Thence judgements shall spare neither foole nor wise, The hoary head nor yet the infant's cries ; But shall us thresh upon a floore of stones. And gnash the marrow of our broken bones ; That wee may know the judgements shall be sore. The words he cries almost from door to door. Butfourtie dayes and yee shall clearely see. That Ninive shall all destroyed be ; He cries that heav'ns will us destroy and kiU, Because that sins our city doe brime fill : Wee are amaz'd, to whom shall wee appeale ? When heav'ns doe wound, earth hath no hands to heale. Before this prophet any farther she we. Within our streets, wee to the King will goe, p 34 And tell that he hath one dayes journey made, Through divers streets, with proclamation said Against the King, the Nohles, and the States, The Citizens, and als the Magistrats, And 'gainst the Lawyers who for justice plead, Yea, als against our Women for their pride : At all those quarters as he finds occasion, Hee with loud voice doth make this proclamation. Butfourtie dayes and yee shall clearely see. That Ninive shall all destroyed be. Sire, it will please your Majesty to heare, Your City all is in a trembling feare ; There is a prophet that is come from farre, Against your city he denounceth warre ; From heav'ns above a strange disaster hee. Doth threaten still against your Ninive. For Sins of Kings, of Nobles, and also Of Magistrats, and of your Lawyers too. Who wrong the justice that is due to poore ; 'Gainst Women als who have no other cure, But for to deck them selves with vanities, Hee still doth threaten great calamities ; Li every quarter as he finds occasion, Hee with loud voice doth make this proclamation. Butfourtie dayes and yee shall clearely see. That Ninive shall all destroyed be. €it mins of W(ntbf. Great need's of hast, we must no more delay. To change the byas of our crooked way ; of Jkonajl). 35 If God once strike and wee repent too late, Wee'le surely find repenting's out of date : A sudden stroak will bring us- to the ground, Some deadly foes our city will surround, With armed squadrons, and with trained bands. Who will make havock of our lives and lands. It's time that I dismount my Royall Throne, And Seats of Honour that I sate upon ; And that in dust I grovell on the ground, With ashes cast upon my head discrown'd. From State Imperiall I my selfe depose. Now for to live a vassel among those, Who are my subjects in this time so sad ; for Silks I will with rugged Sack be clad. I will, with my Peeres, out give a decree. To be proclaimed through all Ninive, Let neither man, beast, herd, flock, great or small, , In Ninive tast any thing at all ; Let them not feede, nor yet drink any water, It's not now time that wee ourselves should flatter : The tempest's riseing ; God will not delay, Hee hath us Summon 'd to the fourty day. Not only must wee keepe a solemn fast. But aU must off their costly garments cast, To goe in Sack ; wee must no longer weare. Such costly Sutes while judgement is so neare ; All Men, and Women, must with sackcloth cover Their silken pride, that judgement may pass over. From prancing Horses, Caparisons rare Must be remov'd, with trappings ev'ry where, €bt Witovit 36 For to put on the Sack and sadly goe, Asse, Cow, Mule, Sheepe, must all be clothed so: Not only so, but als ev'n by and by, Must unto God now cry most mightily : Before his plagues our city should devour, Wee'le as wee can doe our last endeavour. My wUl's, that aU this our decree obey, On forfeiture of life without delay ; Now, who can teU, but God incontinent Will pity us, and will himself repent, And that hee from his anger that is hot, Vv ill tume away, so that we perish npt ? €f)t Eoi-U. I am Jehovah, not in rigour set, I willingly forgive, and als forget The sins of men, who feel the heavy smart. And pricking greefe of a repenting heart : I am not slow for to revoke my sentence, Upon a timely and a sound repentance. Thou, Ninive, art humbled me before In fast and dust, I'le threaten thee no more ; Of this to thee I will my promise give, Thy Bond I'le canceU, and thy Sins forgive. Ho ! Jonah come and hearken unto me, Proceede no more in streets of Ninive, To threaten wrath, for thou a passing bell, 'Gainst their transgressions did so loudly knell. That King, and all cast downe in trembling feares, Did beg my mercy with a floode of teares : of JonaJ. They fasting cry'd, Lord let thy wrath surcease, I pardon 'd them, and have them granted peace ; As soone as men for their transgressions mourne. My wrath is quench'd, and cannot longer burne : Sith with that city, I am pleased so, Yee may returne, and home to Israel goe. Jona{). Not so my Lord, I hither did not come, Lies for to preach, and after to goe home ; I had not wiU this charge to undertak. Therefore, at first I quickly turn'd my back. To goe to Tarshish : this I often said, While I at home was in my country sad ; For this I knewe as clearely now I know. Thou gracious art and unto anger slow. Of long forbearance and of kindnesse great. This makes my heart in sadnesse great to fret : My veines doe boile while kindled is mine ire, Mine eyes doe sparkle and my teeth strike fire : come ! now come, and banish all delayes, And doe thou quench the taper of my dayes. Lord take my life, now heare I thee beseech. That in thy Name I goe no more to preach ; This people proude, were I but once away. In Ninive will scoffingly thus say. The preacher Jonah, messenger of lies. Went through our streets with many fearefuU cries, Wee are alive, while he is gone away, Though hee us summoned to the fourty day. 37 38 €it EorU. What boots it so to storme outragious, In fiery wrath against thy Maker thus ? What have I done, but in my love and pity, Have at this time spar'd a repenting city ? Sith that I saw they were from sin reclaim'd, I crost the sentence which thou had'st proclam'd : And why, therefore, dost thou with anger swell ? To be so angry Jonah dost thou well ? It's best that I out of this city part. To ease my 'sore oppress't and heavy heart. What God hath said I hardly can believe, Can he so threaten, and so soone forgive ? Can he revoke his sentence, and so soone As voide of might, leave what he saith undone ? I'le build a booth without the cities gate. And there I'le waite, tUl be expir'd the date Of fourty dayes, that I may clearely see. What shall betide unto this Ninive : On th' Bsterne side heere is a pleasant greene. Where at one sight the City may be seene : I'le branches cut, and leavie boughs which may Me overshadow, lest the burning ray. That from the sun comes with a scorching heat, Without a shadow on my head should beate : There I will sit, untill at last I see. What shall become of sinful! Ninive, Ciie Eord. This slender booth of boughs by Jonah made, By parching heate is wither'd ev'ry blade, of Sonaj^ 39 The greenest leaves to dust now crumbled ly, Leaves lose their shadow when as they grow dry : Now by the strength of my Almighty word. For Jonah's head I will prepare a Gourd, Whose leaves most broad may on all sides lye over. And with their shadow Jonah closely cover. Sonajg. O happy gourd which timeous in my neede. Is so sprung up to cover now my heade. In such a season when the sweateing heate. Hath spoil'd my Booth, and on my head doth beate : Those leaves have sap, and lye right close together. No scorching sunne will make them for to wither : what a pleasure doth those leaves afford. Which spreade so fair from such a pleasant Gourd ? For divers reasons I was very sad. But now I am become exceeding glade : In any place it rarely hath been seene, A Gourd with leaves made in one night so greene. Sprung up so high, to give my sense delight, Its colour greene doth much refresh my sight. Now heere I'le sit most willing, till I see. What shall become of godlesse Ninive. €bt EorV. Heere Jonah joyes, and thinketh that hee will Enjoy his Gourd, and that it wiU be still Greene leaved all, his pleasures to maintaine. Not knowing that all earthly things are vaine. And feeble folios which doe passe away. As doth the beauty of a summer day. 40 rie make a worme which on his gourd shall fall, Which shall it smite, and it shall wither all ; To doe the same I will not long delay, But untill morne that springs the light of Day. I thought I was from all my troubles eas'd, Alas ! how soone are all my joyes disceas'd : My Gourd is slaine, the Sunnes consuming ray. Hath crumbled it to dust, and dry'd away : It was my pleasure, I delighted in it, And now aWs gone, and perish'd in a minit : Things most wee pri«e are oft on sudden lost, What oft wee trust it oft deceives us most. Yet which is worse, most troublesome I find, There doth arise a vehement East wind, And with the same, the Sunne with scorching heate, More then before upon my head doth beate ; If this continue, head and heart will rive, Farre better it's for me to dye than live. €it EoiB. What say'st thou Jonah ? art thou miscontent ? Thy cruse of joye is it already spent. And nothing left but a displeased mind. Which is still seeking what it cannot find ? Is this a matter that a prophet yee Should for a weede in such ane anger bee ? To thee it's little that I here doe lye. Without a shed scorch 'd with a swelt'ring skye : of ^onajb- Why dost thou ask, what thou thy self canst tell ? rie not deny, I think that I doe well For to be angry, ev'n unto the death ; For many reasons kindled is my wrath. Cj&e Eortr. What mean'st thou man such murmurings so to make, And on a weede compassion such to take, Whose seede thou with thy hand did'st never sow, Nor know'st the way how it on earth did grow ? Hath such a plant compassion in thy sight ? Which from the earth did spring up in a night, And in another wither 'd quite away. Is this it ? which stirres so thy wrath this day, O siUy man ! hath thou such lurking care. Within thy heart a number of leaves to spare ? And should not I have reason to have pity. To bring to ruine such a mighty city ; Wherein are more than six score thousand [persons), That are so young, and voide are of all [reaspn), That by no means they able are to learne. The right hand from the left, for to discerne ? Should I subvert so many infants too. With beasts and catteU numberlesse also ? If at my beame of Justice, I should weigh Men's workes, I should the race of mankind slay ; I'm mercifuU, I am compassionate, Farre be't from me to raze so brave a State ; And in my wrath to bring to desolation, , A city such, which may be call'd a Nation ; 42 Sith that to me they humbly bow the knee, I yet will spare the Towne of Ninive. TEE USE ' When in a Spring tide Sin doth overflowe, God will notfaile to bring that people lowe ; But if their hearts be pierced deepe with greefe, Hee mercifuU will send to them releefe. If with soft hearts men weepe a teare a part, They'le never meete God with a marble heart. It's not his pleasure, for to spoile and sack The sonnes of men, sore luxnochfor to mak Of lives and lands, for to disturb their rest : Sith it is so, to turne to him's our best. To learne his wisdom,, and his wayes so holy. And hate our owne,full both of filth andfoly : When God us summons let us not delay. Wee can not tell if till thefourty day. The Lord provoked will his wrath suspend. Or sooner wili of sinners make amend ; It is our best the sooner wee begin. To purge ourselves so from the rust of sin ; Yeares fully laden with their months doe passe ; And months with weekes, and weekes with dayes, alas ! And dayes with houres, and houres with minutes end ; Our life wee see it doth notfarre extend. But drownes in time which passeth soone away ; Sith it is so, let us no more delay. As dry brain''d men, who voide of heav''nly feare. For all their sins could never shed a teare. 43 {Faire) cities strew'd with outlaw'd Princes great, Have for their sins heene tumhl'd from their seat ; Their walls were sunk, and Tow'rs were overthrown, A stone hath not been left upon a stone. Because to them, God cri'd and was unheard, They howl'd to heav'n, but heav'n gave no regard : They, like a ship rul'd with unstable hand. Wanting her compasse strook on ev''ry sand ; And thus they were to ev'ry plague a prey, Because repentance still they did delay. Let Cities learne of Ninive the great. For to repent, and not God's summons sit ; When Preachers to us timeous warning give. Let us repent, and God hee will forgive : The best is ours, the sooner wee begin, Sowre wages issue from the sweetes of sin : This all at last shall by experience (trouth). From Fast to West, and from the North to South. iTints. <^^^« 47 Sfosfpi^ ^tm^ttH to ^irttW^rg. The Speazkes. 1. The Ishmaelites. 2. Potiphar. 3. Potiphar's Wife. 4. Joseph. -5. The Nurse. 6. The Jailor. 7. The Divell. SLie Icffimatlitti. That day was blest when wee from home did part, And got this motion, to incline our heart. To buy this lade, who loiters not at all, But goes or comes as wee doe for him call : Hee soberly doth live, and for our good. His stomach he surcloyeth not with food ; Hee painefuU doth in ev'ry thing excell, Hee humble is, himself he doth not mell. With other's matters in a curious way. As many who their foly so hewray ; Prom smallest springs the greatest rivers rise, Hee who is humble surely will be wise ; Wee hope our bargaine shall give contentation. This youth he is of greatest expectation. 48 Our broker surely slily, by and by Beguil'd you heard men, when he did him buy ; The price was base which they at selling sought, It seetaes that they the lade have never bought. But that he is theefe-stol'n, and ta'en away, Maugre his will, whUe he hath in some way,. Beene walking carelesse for to take the air ; Theeves neither man, nor yet the beasts doe spare, AU's fish that comes in net, they in their way, Goe ceaselesse seeking where to get a prey. The prey is ours, the market had no dearth, It seemes those men did never know his worth : See how he goes, he idle doth not sit, Some stronger be, but have a weaker wit. But while wee speak our words must not be loud, A servant prais'd is ready to be proud, AndfrolicJce vaine, if that a proclamation Be of his worth, and of his estimation : When servants spWits are raised up aloft, mth lazy pace they goe their earands oft. Or swell so proud, that servants they will strike. And ov'r the the rest will live controllers like : At last in duety they come farre behind. They lagge in body, but much more in mind. Therefore its best that wee deale wisely now. In such a sort that he no way doe know. Our mind of him, for pride would make him swerve, A servant proud not long time well will serve : If at the first this youth wee wisely traine. Wee by his service will most surely gaine : to asuUeri). When wee to Egypt shall come with our spice, Wee for the Lade may get a noble price ; Men there are wealthy, and in pleasures live. For such a one they lib 'rally will give : When wee our wares there vent at ev'ry quarter. Wee may him sell, or truck, or also barter. With great advantage to us ev'ry way. When wee our wares in Egypt shall display ; The land is rich, and men in pleasures swim ; Some Lord in Egypt will give much for him. So faire in face, so nimble for to doe, So ready still to come, or yet to goe ; If for our spices markets fall too bad. It may be that wee gaine yet by the lade ; Wee in our life this to he true doe try. In merchand wares there is great jeopardy ; Wee have great neede the stots of time to keepe. He who in sloath doth like a Dor-Mouse sleepe. Shall at the last sure prove a Banker-up, And neither have to bite, nor yet to sup ; Soone up at morne, and late to goe to bed, And sober diet, grace a merchand's trade. Now wee perceive, and clearely understand. That wee draw neare unto th' Egyptian's land : Behold rich vallies, where the liquid glasse Of Nilus flood, in curl'd streames doth passe ; Through flow'ry plaines enammelled with Gemmes, That precious are among the silver streames ; Which here and there, doe muster in their traiae In smaller brookes, untill they Nilus gaine, 49 50 Wherein they fall, as if they understood, Their homage due unto that noble flood. This world is fram'd with great diversity, Some parts in hills, and some in plaines doe lye : There smell the garden, there the flow'ry fleece Is for the sight, yea yearly twice or thrice ; The fertile plaines are fittest for the come, The lusty sheepe they doe the Downes adorne ; Small hills for vines, high mountains, in a wonder. Have caves for wind, and shops for sulphr'y thunder ; There tempests have conception and their birth. From thence 'gainst us with violence they come forth : In other places floods spew silver streames, And Hillocks bare doe yield most precious Gemmes ; Some Forrests hangings have of silken fleeces ; Some countryes have the incense and the spices ; Some lands enriched mth the noble vines, Distill fine Clarets, Sacks, and Muscadines; Some rich in Wel/s, in come, in cloth and tin, And some have malt to serve them for their wine. Egypt enriched is with Balsamum; From our Arabia costly spices come ; From Candy aurranee, from Indes ivory; From Syria comes the Mummy by and by i Each countrye as wee see doth distribute. That which may for the world's well contribute. But now wee are come unto Egypt's border. Wee wonder, to see all things, in such order i Faire palkces so burnished with gold, Our eyes doe dazle while we them behold ; to anuittijr. The flow'ry Land, a garden all it seemes, And softly Nilus runs with silver streames. Now wee behold the Memphis stately walls. With glittering roofs upon her palace Halls ; Those heaving Tow'rs doe lift their tops so hj, Et'd as they would be masters ov'r the sky : If they continue thus for to goe on, They will attempt to scale the crystal Throne ;• Wee poore Arabians that are people rnde. Are glad to dwell in Lodges made of mud ; And win our meat with irksome toile and care, Wee coarsely cloth'd doe live on sober fare ; Ty'd to a taske, at all wee hare no leisure, Us to refresh with pastime or with pleasure ,- Our land is barren, such therefore 's our case. We must for gaine still goe from place to place. pleasant plaine of Egypt, land repleat, With beards of Cattell, and of Sheepe, and Neate r Come fields are faire, and all things doe abound, No thing is wanting in this fertile ground. Yet more wee see faire rankes of trees, betweene- A flow'ry field, and a most spacious Greene : Thousands of youths as in a Martiall muster, Adorn 'd with gold in diverse Troopes doe cluster ; Wee see their men that are of stature tall. Some runne, some leape, some wrastle for a fall r On horseback some as mighty warriors goe, With Launces as they would assault a foe ; Some wheele about against another Rapke, As though they would them charge upon the flanke ; 51 Some at the Tilt, within the field so large Goe bravely on, and give a furious charge ; Such exercises 'mong them daily are, That thereby they inur'd may be to war. But who is this that comming we doe see, Now from those games that all so Martiall be ? While wee stand still upon this place alway. It seemes to us ward that hee hath his way : It seemes he dwells within the palace walls. Those iron gates, and high gold sealed Halls. Hee comes to us, and leaves his Tilting sport, Hee is a man not of the common sort : Gold on his clothes is in the shining light. Much like a Comet blazing bloody bright. ^ottpj[iar. Ho ! friends, yee who now there together stand, It seemes yee are come from some forraine land. For your aflfaires ; yee no thing heere shall see, That shall you hurt ; of feare yee may be free : Like crocodiles our men they are not heere. With faire pretenoe to murder with a teare ; Yee safely may through ev'ry beaten road, Goe with your beastes, no man will them unload, The land's in peace, men may in ev'ry side. Both goe on foot, or else on palfreyes ride, Without all feare ; the countreye's Lawes are so, The Merchands safe in ev'ry part may goe. It seemes by trade that yee all merchands are, Now let me know what is your cheefest ware ? to asuUerfi. Right worthy Sir, wee shall that to you tell. Wee Balme and Myrrhe, with Spices have to sell : In Egypt land the better never were, Wee from Arabia have brought all this ware : Moreover wee, as some Men wee past by. From them this Lade for silver als did buy ; Hee's apt for all things that wee put him to, He is not slow, yea whether to come or goe, As wee command ; he is not vicious ; To vertues hee is most ingenious ; Wee him esteeme more precious to be. Then all our holme, and myrrh, and spicerie; Our wares are such that clearely they doe tell,' That wee 're not pedlars, triffles for to sell. I like his face, I wish the price were made ; Cost I'le not spare, I mind to have the Lade ; But yet I mind the matter to contrive. So that I may the Bargaine wisely drive ; That as goode, cheape, as possibly I may, I may the Lade take home with me the day ; So farre as I by them can understand. They will him sell, and I'le not buckling stand ; 1 oft have heard it said hy good advice. Wares that are good, are ever worth their price. Ho ! friends, I heare, as yee unto me tell, That yee have halme, myrrhe, spicerie to sell, Good and good cheape, if yee come to our faire, Yee easily will soone dispatch your ware. 53 54 As for this lade whom yee for silver bought, Yee will him sell, it gives me in my thought ; Yee merchands are, where ev'r yee doe remaine, Tee buy and sell thereby to get some gaine : What is his price ? now teU me in a word. Bee not too deare, and wee shall soone aecord. €it iibmatliUS. Sir, yee must know wee have him brought from farre; And have him fed : the nature of this ware Is still to spend, and victuaUs to consume ; A hundred pieces he will cost in summe ; Hee is not deare, if yee shall get him so. If yee not please, then let him with us goe ; Wee know right well that others more will give ; Take yee him so, or else the Bargaine leave. pottpBar. I win not prigge, I wiU not you deceive, Yee for the Lade shall fourtie pieces have ; I seeke no vantage now of you to catch, It's but that yee your gaines by triffles snatch ; Win little and win oft, as heard I have. Makes merchands rich, but who too much doe crave. The buyers that about them gather'd are, Discourag'd, so that they will buy no ware. Yet sith I'm here, before I Bargaine leave, I fifty pieces unto you will give ; If in your loof yee all this silver had. You will it find more worthy then the Lad©. to ^trultdrn. 55 Slit Hsbmatlitti. Wee'le spend no time, wee'le in a word therefore You tell, he will then fifty cost you more 4 The Lade .in service nimble is and bold, In scorching heat, and in the freezing cold ; Hee quickly serves, he drives our horse abrod, When bending axles grone beneath their load ; When wee him send some earands through the plaine, Hee in a trice returnes to us againe 4 All goeth well that he doth take in hand, Hee doth obey as wee doe him command. From any duty he doth never shrink, In all Ms worhes he never seemes to wink. Wee merchands are, wee are not prigging men, Hee in a word will cost fourscore and ten. Tour ware's too dear, but sith that yee and I Are come this farre, I will him from you buy ; Heere is the summe which will you fully pay. Give me the Lade, take yee the price the day. Come hither Lade ; now of good courage be. Now back this steede, for to ride home with me : This well I wot, I neede no inquisition. Thou for the better chang'd hast thy condition ; Thou served merchands both in cold and heate. Who after them through mires upon thy feete, Still made thee runne, with weari'd limmes and so, Ev'n as a drudge still with their packs to goe : More soure then Sweeete thy life was them among. As I doe think ; but ere that it be long. ^oit^i Cempteit 56 Thou no more with (a) troubling tempest driv'n, Shall cleared see thy sad and low'ring Heav'n : Take courage, and in all things faithfull be, And thou must look for favour so from me ; This land is fertUe, both with wine and graine ; Arabia's fields wherein thou did'st remaine. To speake the trueth, are but a wildernesse. But Egypt's glory who can well expresse ? The heav'ns are cleare as men's hearts would desire, Great stormes of raine turne not our land to mire ; With bloody haire there is no blazing starre, To threaten men with famine, plague, and warre ; The freezing cold aU seasons wee not feare. No mealie mountaines white with snow appear ; But all the fields as clearely may be seene. Have stiU their garments dy'd in lusty greene : The land's a garden, which sweet savour yields. Most fragrant flowres enammeU all the fields ; The trees in rankes all orderly are set. When yee them see, Arabia yee'le forget. Now let us [strive) imtill our place wee come, Wee to my wife will be most welcome home : Now heeres my house beset with orchards round. Where dangling fruits on branches all abound ; I will light downe, and tell that I have bought. Such ware which oft my wife from me hath sought ; A servant humble, pleasant to the eye, Obedient, faithful for to oversee, At home, abrod, how matters all do goe, I will get thankes if thou doe so and so. to 'BBuUerfi. My dearest heart, most deare to me indeede, I at the market have this day come speede ; While at the Tilt within the field so large. Wee in our game did give a furious charge ; Thousands of youths were in a martiall muster, While as in Troopes wee stood there in a cluster, I did espy some merchand men afarre, Then I anone went for to see their ware. Ho ! friends, said I, yee who together stand. It seemes yee are come from some forraine land ; For your affaires ; yee no thing heere shall see. That shall you hurt ; of feare yee may be free ; All is in peace, the countrye's lawes are so, The merchands safe in ev'ry part may goe : It seemes that yee by trade aU merchands are, Now let me know what is your cheefest ware ? Right worthy Sir, said they, wee will you tell. Wee balme, and myrrhe, with spic'rie have to sell, In Egypt land the better never were. Wee from Arabia have brought all this ware. Moreover, wee as some men wee past by. From them this lade for Silver so did buy, Hee's apt for all things that wee put him to, He ready is to come, or yet to goe. As wee command ; he is not vicious. To vertue he is most ingenious. Wee him esteeme more precious to be, Then all our holme, and myrrhe, and spicerie ; And to be short, I saw the lade so rare. That I him did preferre to all their ware : I 57 58 I have him bought, and with me hee is come, - If yee him saw yee would say welcome home. My joye, my heart, I proofs of your good will At all times have, so yee continue still : Yee're firme in love, not unto changes subject, As the Chameleons vary with their object : Since at our marriage wee the words have spoken. The knot of Love hath never yet been broken : Love should be constant, not like those that change, Fantastick fashions in their garments strange ; Love of such things as Lees and drosse of all, Should of our hearts downe to the bottome fall. And honest Love should have the upper place. Of man and wife, such still should be the case : I constant.am, though women's hearts men call. Of changefull thoughts a common Arcenall : Yee're mine, your eyes reflect their lively rayes. Upon my heart, and that in divers wayes. Now my deare heart, yee're welcome home to me. As for that Lade, I wish I could him see. ilotfpSav. Strong links of Love in goodly chaines doe tether. The hearts of husbands and of wives together ; As in a wheele which whirleth on the ground, This for example clearely may be found. The spoakes thereof still neerer, neerer gather. Till in the Nave their points hard meete together : to ^Hutterj).. As distant spoakes are joined in the Nave, So are the thoughts which in our hearts wee have. Ho ! Sirra run, and to the Orchard goe, And cause yon lade come quickly me unto. My dearest heart this day yee have come speede, Tee have a Bargaine worthy made indeede ; A man of wealth should never hucking stand. When wares of worth are brought unto his hand : I have not seene such servant in this place, Hee lively is, and of a lovely face. Ho ! lade, be glade thou art come hither safe, Thou for thy thraldom need'st not inly chafe ; If thou thy master serve with diligence, Thou need'st not feare to want a recompence. potipjbar. By long experience I at last doe find, This youth so trusty, that I in my mind. Now think it best he others all command ; For as I see all prospers in his hand : What ev'r he does, he does the same with grace. The first in vertue should befi/rst in place : Tie him promote, ev'n ov'r my servants all. Who shall bee alwayes subject at his call ; His clothing's coarse, yea it is very bad. But now I mind to see him seemely clad, In Silken suit, with richest Livery, Of Purple fine, full of embrodery ; 59 60 I also will in honour set him up, Upon a horse the stateliest of the troope. WhUe I him see thus decked, he appears Both taU and trimmer, then are all his peeres. Our other servants are so sallov fac't. That wee by them are often times disgrac't ; They have no wisdome for to understand. How they should in their master's presence stand. But ! this youth hee is a lovely Minion, His browe is white, his cheekes are like vermilion. His lookes are mild, his eyes are smiling sweete. His pass is grave, and pretty are his feete : His lovely face it is most gracious. In ev'ry thing hee's most officious^ No lesse within doores, then hee is without, Active, and apt, in aU hee goes about ; On all occasions he not lags behind. But with the foremost wee him ever find ; Ready to serve, or goe, or yet to come. To serve abrod, or yet to serve at home. My husband deare, yee had a happy thought. That day, that yee this youth unto us brought ; Hee all ov'r sees, and never sitteth idle, Hee needes no spurres, but rather must have bridle To hold him in, lest that incontinent With too much toile, his forces all be spent. And so he bought, ev'n by so high a rate, Be made unusefull to our great regret. to '^VvXttts. 61 pott^j^ar. Hee happy is who hath a worthy wife, Hee may her call his stay, his love, his life ; His rest, his weal, his other self also ; A help in neede where ev'r hee doth goe ; chastest friendship seene in any part. Two so made one, that two have but one heart ; This sacred knot doth man and woman hind. So that the one with th' other, hath one mind. As yes desire so shall I carefuU be. That this sweete youth, shall onely oversee Men at their task, and when yee are alone, Hee you attend, and still you foUowe on ; When yee abrod shall goe to any place. The youth is comely, of a pleasant face. And grave and wise, as I doe daily try ; And SQ most fit to beare you company. The King hath sent, that to the Court I come ; I'le goe, but he shall tarry heere at home ; Strangers may come, none heere there with you be, That can such service doe at home as he : The night's farre spent, therefore I think it best. That now in time wee all goe to our rest ; The letter presseth that without delay. The morrow I hence earely ride away. Now night is past, and Phoebus in his wayes So posting past, castes on the cloudes his rayes : When he comes foorth, he's like a mighty King, About his countreye stately progressing ; The planets six, which are all wand'ring lights, Doe him attend, as Dukes, Earles, Lords, and Knights : 62 Those Nobles prancing humbly evermore, Waite on his coach behind, and als before : Those coursers rmi through the celestiall orbs, They gallop still, no stop their dance disturbs. It's day, it's time to lend my horse a heele, Arm'd with a spurre ; my deare heart now farewell. My heart is like a spider, who confin'd In her webs centre, hurri'd with each wind. Moves in a trice, if that a buzzing Fhe, Stirre but a string of her thin canopie ; I can not tell what thing is this I find. Both night and day still stirring in my mind. This youth new come, bee hath a lovely face, What ev'r he doth it is adorn 'd with grace •,. Hee rudy lips hath, and a smiling eye. His comely cheeks are of a purer dye Then any Rose, and for mine eyes delite. The other parts are like the Lilly white ; I see, in him, which well affirm I can. The rarest beauties that adorne a man ; Him more then all, I inly doe admire. And doe him stiU behold with young desire ; I doe not know what after shall ensue, If I this passion shall of love pursue, Or not, I doubt ; I know not what infection, The Tindar kindleth of this hot affection. Which fires my mind, and wak'neth my desire, So that my lust me setteth all on fire : to '^Vulttvs. Desist I would, for feare of world's Shame, Persist I must, though I should lose my name ; Then death, Love's stronger as we may perceive, I'le rather dye then want what Love would have. But^ith our Sexe is modest, I wiU ply To play my part, with art and subtilty ; I mind by art this youth now to ensnare, I'le fard my face, and goe with breast laid bare. When he shall see, to waken his delite. Two pleasant paps Uke Alabaster white ; When in my breast as in a looking glasse, Hee sees such beauty, it will come to passe. That it will make the Tindar of his heart, Soone to take fire, and blaze in ev'ry part. Like one whose breast a burning fever fryes : Hee at this sight wUl surely agonize. Yet more then this, that I may winne my point. With former things some others must be joint ; I Jewells have that are both rich and rare, I wiU them have thick dangling on my haire ; Pearles, Bubies, and the Topas shall me deck. With Saphires hang'd about my snowie neck ; My gownes pasmented* with the richest gold. And dangling Kibbans, pleasant to behold. Shall give me luster ; when hee hath me seene Deck'd like a Lady, rather like a Queene, His lust wlQ kindle, and him quickly move. With such a beauty to be sicke of Love. • Overlaid with a species of lace work or embroidery of gold. 63 64 Now I will send my Nurse to him, that hee May in some chamber see me quietlie. Without a witnesse ; for a place alone, Is fitting most for such temptation. Ho ! Nurse see that in hast yee ready bee. That Hebrew youth cause quickly come to me ; For to my Husband he must letters write. Some secret purpose which I shall indite ; Tell yee him, that I'm in the chamber heere ; Let no man know, but sound it in his eare. I goe Madame, according to your wiU, What yee require I shall the same fulfill ; While yee were young, I on my breasts you fed. And by the Sleeves I heere and there you led : I you a babe did dandle on my knee, «• My heart is glade whUe I your glory see. I'le say no more, in hast I'le goe away, As yee have spoke I'le to the Hebrew say. ^^oUplav'i Wliit. This my design requires great secrecy. My Nurse, I think, was fittest all to try ; She trusty is, she no deceitfuU will. Hath in her heart ; she wUl not me beguile ; I thought her fittest for to doe this thing. For me her Nursling whom she up did bring : She is most faithfull, diligent, and charie. Her Nursling's earands to and fro to carrie. to aBuUer^. But what is this that in my breast I feele ? The thoughts of Love, still up and downe doe reele Within my heart ; the pleasant comely face Of th' Hebrew youth, me greeves in ev'ry place ; I'm sicke of Love, I have sure quaffed up. The brimme and bottome of some Stygian cup. Wherein some philter kindled hath this fire. That makes my flesh burne with such bote desire. €i)t KurSt. Sir, yee shall knowe my Mistresse hath me sent, To tell you that yee come incontinent, To write some missives of great importance. Unto her Lord ; she minds you to advance. To higher honours, ev'n to beare her cup ; Some other things in heart she hoardeth up, As I perceive ; which yee will better knowe, When she herself will tell the same to you ; She in her speaches still doth you commend. She is in greefe, if that your finger end But ake a little ; thus yee clearely see. How much to her yee now beholden be, Tee will be welcome when yee to her goe ; What needes me Trumpet ev'ry thing I kno ? I gladely heare what yee the Nurse doth say, I am a servant, and I must obeye ; Most willingly I'le strive to doe her pleasure, I of her Love deserve not such a measure : 65 66 Yet shall I strive, that all the house may see, That I am upright, and no guile's in me : I for my Master and my Mistresse ever, ShaU still be loyaU, but a pilf'rer never. Nurse, teU the Mistresse when I this have done. That's in my hand ; I'le come to her anone. I see indeede those things most needefuU be. When yee have done, see that yee foUowe me : Madame, as yee me to the Hebrew sent, At your command 1 went incontinent ; As I perceiv'd my words did much him move, When I him told of your respect and Love : When he hath done some things that needefuU be, Hee then anone will followe after me. A gallant youth hee seemes, as I have seene. As I esteeme, hee of some Lord hath beene The darling Sonne ; but beggars by the way. Him farre from doores have found, and stolne away. ^otijjfiat'i Wife. Your thought is mine, since first I saw his face. And civiU carriage als in ev'ry place ; So mild, so meeke, so humble, free of scorne, I could not think that he was basely borne ; Sith Providence hath brought him us unto, Hee shall well know, that hee hath not to doe With churlish merchands, who, (which is a vice) Have no respect to persons, hut to price : to atruUtrp. I hope one daye when he no thing shall want, Hee'le say our house yet never breathed scant ; Since I was Lady of this house so faire, I never yet a servant had so rare ; What, say I servant ? service to dispatch, To any Lady Jiee might lee a match : I see no man that hath so comely face, What ev'r hee doth it is adorn 'd with grace : Hee rudy lips hath, and a smiling eye, His comely theekes, are of a purer dye Then any Rose, and for mine eyes delite, The other parts are like the lilly white ; I see in him, which well affirme I can. The rarest beauties that adorne a man. Behold him comming, as he spake to you, Hee keepes his word, hee makes his promise true ; Come hither youth, come to my chamber soone, To write some missives, for things to be done With greatest hasj ; come quickly and not stay. Things of great moment suffer no delay. Madame, yee know I use not to be slow, What I have done, yee wUl it well* allow. When yee it see ; as soone as it wtis done, I came unto your Ladyship anone. I ev'ry thing as I shall understand, I mind to doe as yee shall me command, Onely and truely ; it becomes me so As yee direct, either to come or goe ; 67 68 It's not for servants to be daintie, nice, And slow in pace, but in a twinkling trice To goe to work, and that in every way. Ere crowing Heraulds summon up the daye. I hope Madame, that yee will not refuse What I have said, for a most just excuse. ^9ot{{ii)ar'd raitfe. While I him heare, I wot not what a grace. What divine beame reflecteth on his face : If I no children had for to inherite, Hee might be heire of all I have by merite ; If I were barren as is many a one, Hee surely should bee mine adopted sonne ; If Potiphar himself were in his grave, I surely should no other husband have ; / may this thinke, hut can not speake the same. It seemely is a wife he vail'd with shame. Young man, to you my Nurse I quickly sent. That you should come to mee incontinent ; I heard your reason, I will it allow, I by my Nurse each circumstance doe know ; Some secrete things I must this daye indite, Come to my cabin* that yee them may write, I lov'd you ay, and yet J doe not varie. Therefore, I heere you make my Secretarie. This place is quiet, farre aback from din, None will without heare, what's heere said within ; * Cabinet, or Closet of audience. to 'UrtnUtrp. This, this, and this, my husband write unto, As I indite, you shall so write, and so. AH is well written as I doe suppose. Is it your will that I the letters close ? Potfjilbar'tS mUt. that this youth did know my Ladiship ! that in Love's cup hee would once but sip ! And after that carrousing by and by, Would all quaff otf, and drink the goblet dry ; His Rosy lips most gladly would I kisse. But woman's shame restraineth me from this ; 1 wonder, while such beautie heere he sees. That I perceive not, in his modest eyes. Some signe of lust ; if favour could him move, Hee clearely sees great tokens of my Love : If hee would looke, and see me on each side, Hee would me see adorned like a Bride : I farded have my face with fard most rare. To fire his eye my liUy breast is bare ; And also, for to waken his delite, I shewe my paps like Alabaster white ; My beautie is adorn 'd with jewels rare. Which on my locks doe dangle heere and there, Fearles, Rubies, and the Topas doe me deck. With Saphires hang'd about my snowie neck ; My gownes pasmented are with richest gold. And dangling Ribbans pleasant to behold. 69 70 Doe give me luster ; hee me thus hath seene, Deck'd like a Lady, rather like a Queene. Yet for all this, as I behold his eye, I no appearance of his lust can see, No wanton smile ; but in a posture grave, Retir'd, as one that no such thing doth crave ; I may with loohes, with wordes I cannot wooe, "What wordes can not, love glances well can doe ; I spare no cost on Pearles, to give me luster, The Rubies rare upon my haire doe muster. Yet for aU this, as I behold his eye, I no appearance of his lust can see : It may be so, that all he sees without. Not shewe my mind, and therefore doth he doubt. If inly I him such affection beare ; Therefore, except he from my mouth it heare, Hee darre not well such matters now propound. Lest that he guilty should at last be found ; If to my husband I should shewe the same. And by this meanes that he should come to shame. I faine would speake and tell him all my mind, How in mine eyes that he doth favour find ; But oh ! again I blush, I can not speake, It seemes the man should from the woman seeke ; ^ That man is doltish, and hath little skill, I That can not soone signes of a woman's will, ' Read in her face, her gestures, and her eye ; ' What shall I say ? for love I'm like to dye. Yet I must waite and shunne dishonours brand ; When hee heereafter shall well understand. My love to him, perhaps hee'le change his mind ; to atrutterfi. Hee waites on me, I'le soone occasion find, Within my cabin, where I shall indite, Some missives which this youth must daily write. Ho ! youth, the missives as I doe perceive, Yee orderly them all now written have ; As I desire, therefore I all allow, None to write missives, I will have but you. See that the morrow yee goe not from home. At afternoone unto my cabin come. I shall, Madame, doe as yee mee command, In ev'ry thing that 1 doe understand ; What shall you please I mind it still to seeke ; I wish I could doe better then I speake ; Now by your leave, Madame, I must goe hence, T' ov'r see the Servants, that with diligence They work ; for they neede more a spurre then bridle. It's sin and shame that servants should (sit) idle. This woman's lookes doe lustfull seeme and vaine. With such a one great danger's to remaine : She's like a Tindar boxe to kindle fire. To waken lust, and foolish youth's desire : Her gestures speake when she her eyes do cast. With wanton smiles, she seems not to be chast : 1 trembl'd when she steek't her cabin doore ; I see no thing but tokens of a whoore. It strange is, how a woman can forsake. Her worthy Lord a servant for to take : Whoores are like maids, or child great wives that miss, Their termes appointed for their flourishes ; n Sioitnii) Cemntetr 72 At daintie feastes they pine, preferring farre. The Killings, Herrings, Gastocks, Colwort, Tar, Tea, coals, and chutes, and cindars, als before, Quaile, Pheasant, Partridg, and a thousand more. It is my part at Morne, and als at Ev'n ; Yea at all times to pray the God of heav'n Mee to direct, that by her promises, And beautie, she guU not my simplenesse ; Lord, thou Jcnow'st that I no thing can doe. But what thy Sp'rit inables me unto. And yet while I such tokens outward find. It may be no such thing bee in her mind ; While wee in cabin secrete were together, She not a word that wanton was did utter : Such is our nature, and our fraile condition. That without ground wee often have suspicion ; They who in life are still most innocent. Are least suspicious of ane evUl intent. Yet, when men see the Ivy bush* hang out. They knowe the change-house : so at least we doubt. If such be chast, whom we alwayes doe see. So vaine, so wanton with a rolling eye ; It's good in time to shunne the whoorish gate, Who doe it not, repent, but oft too late. I wot not what in mee is come to pass. In mee this whUome, who most gladely was ; • The old Vint'ner's public Sign for the sale of Wine. to aauUerjj. 73 Set to ov'r see my maids in businesse, And now I lusk in sloth and lazinesse ; Love's working I not able am to staunch ; The fire is kindl'd which I cannot quench. This youth I so do carrie in my mind, That I no rest within my heart can find ; It sucketh sorrowe, and doth on it feede ; I dizzy am as fed with Darnall seede ; I yesterday had time, but could not use it ; I thought it precious, but I fear'd t' abuse it : A woman's heart a thousand doubts doth frame. Whiles toss'd with feare, and whiles als cross'd with shame; So to attempt, I durst not well be plaine, But thought by Pearles and smiles my point to gaine : Wee see the feeble, downie, feathr'd yong. Not venture fiight before their {quils) be strong ; Lovers at first, before each know another. Will uncouth seeme, the one unto the other, Darre not exprosse what is within the mind, Yea, not though they a faire occasion find. But first they must, with winkes and rolling eye, Their minds let others in their gestures see ; And peece and peece as they see goe the guise. Step back, or forward, in their wooeing wise. Ev'n so, I mind by peece and peece to try. And as I see, I shall my self apply : I see him comeing as wee left at last, The appointed houre it is not fully past : It giyes me hope, sith that he keepes his houre. That yesternight of Love he felt the pow're : 74 A gallant Lady with a smiling face, "With speaking gestures in a secret place, May kindle fire within the chastest breast. Both of the greatest, and als of the least, I see yon woman in a rich attire. To deck her thus her Maide will surely tire ; When as her Lord did with her heere remaine, She in appareU was not haJf so vaine. I like not women who are wanton, glade, When as their husbands are gone farre abrade. I must goe to her, I it can not shunne ; Lord me save, and as thou hast begun. Continue with me, (that) unto the last, 1 both in heart, and gestures may be chast. Potfpiiar'd miiU. Ho ! youth, come hither that I may indite, Important missives, which yee now must write. To send abrod, men must not idle stand. In hulk at sea, or in ane house on land : Lest time be spent before our turnes be done, Let us both goe into my cabin soone. Now doores are clos'd, my husband is afield, Sweete youth I wish that yee to me would yield, My earn'st desire, I hardly can it tell. But by my gestures yee may know it well ; The matter's such, it not conceale I can, Ev'n yee yourself are now the onely man. to atrulttrs. 75 Who can me comforte, pining thuis avcay, "With thoughts of you by night, and als by day ; Yee know my meaning, I it blush to tell, But by my gestures yee may know it well. The doores are clos'd, none's heere but you and I, Stolne water's sweete as ev'ry one may try ; Thousands of Servants would this well approve, That such a mistresse would them dearely love ; And think it honour for to kisse her face. And in the bed to have his Master's place ; 'Mong many servants I'le have none but thee. Now time us fits, come thou and lye with me. My heart within me blusheth all for shame, I hardly knowe what answer now to frame : My heart abhorres to heare such filthy wordes. They thrill me through as they were sharpest swordes : This woman doubtlesse hath now quaffed up, The brimme and bottome of a Stygian cup : While I those things consider mine alone. At ev'ry thought my heart doth grind a groane ; Lest peradventure she against me rage, I thinke it best her meekely to asswage. Madame, as yet I never was a lover, I blush for shame, the red my face doth cover : I'm but a boy appointed for to serve, I from my duety wiU be loath to swerve ; I were ingrate, and fearefuUy misled. If I defile should so my Master's bed : 76 Why should I thus disloyall Traitor prove, Unto my Lord, and to my God above ? I you doe love, Madame, I you assure. Not with a love that's sinfuU and impure ; I wish you well, your wealth, your honour too ; let us no thing but what's lawfuU doe. In times to come, from'all such things forbeare, And what is past none of the same shall heare. ilotfpiar'd milit. This was the time which I myself appointed. And now I find that I am disappointed, Yea, and deluded ; who is she would think. That such a youth should from his Lady shrink ? Thousands would seeke the privUedge, that hee In secrete, nowe that to him oiTred bee ; That servant may think hee not serves amisse. That gets but leave his Mistresse for to kisse ; This day to me is farre beyond my count. That ev'n my servant should me thus efifront ; When I at first my love cast on the lade, 1 did expect from him no thing so bad. No wonder that at first one not prevaile, A better wind I hope shall fill my saile : I'le not leave off for one repulse or twaine. One time or other, I my point will gaine ; In love wee see things that be very strange, From love to hate, from hate to love a change. A better time I'le get when I indite. Some other matter, fit for him to write to ^OuUrri?. Within my Cabin ; when I secretely, Hope to entice him in my bed to lye. Ho ! youth, the morrow goe yee not from home, At afternoone unto my cabin come. I shall, Madame, doe as yee mee direct : I'le study ever, with all due respect, A servant trusty unto you to be. No other fashions yee shall see in me ; The more yee spurre me I shall goe the faster. You for to please, and also please my Master. Sov'raine Lord, whose Throne's above my head, Mee save, and not into temptation lead ; Heine my desires, and hemme them in, Lord, That hence I from my duety not dehor d ; But duely, truely may thee ever serve. So that my lust me never make to swerve ; Mee from the snares save of this wicked wife. The whoore each where layes ambush for the life. Of him, whom she in burning lust would have ; Among such snares thou onely me can save. They, this I knowe to be most true, Lord, Shall feele thy hand that doe not fear e thy word ; With mercy. Lord, me compasse on each side. Be both my guard, and also be my guide : Some wrigling serpent doubtlesse is within. This woman's breast that is so prone to sin : It with enchantments which I can not name. Hath made this woman pass the bounds of shame ; 77 78 She knowes not God, whose fearefull flaming hand, Shall pash to powder all that him withstand ; Her wayes I hate, for this I wot right well. She knowes not that there is a heav'n or hell ; To kindle lust this is her onely care, For this the Rubies dangle on her haire ; For this she fards,* for this she silks* puts on. And seeks to be in parts with men alone ; That privately she may insinuate ; That minds of men she may intoxicate ; She not desists, but still persists to ply. To play her part with art and subtilty ; She feares no danger, nor dishonours brand. Nor dreadfull vengeance from her Husband's hand. Lord, save me from her lustfuU cabin's fire. Where she me still beholds with young desire. Potepl^ar'd Wiitt. To gaine my point I must now at the last, With policy another compasse cast : I'le not despaire, for oft a gash or wound Discover'd, is recover'd and made sound : Lovers must darre for often needlesse dreade. Makes many women doe with little speede ; • " ' Paints herfaoe — a practicewhich prevailed muchin our Author's day. About the time this Poem was written, the " Merchants' House of Glasgow," in a Code of Regulations, prohibits its Members from ** selling those things that are for no other use but for to commit sin in the using of them ; as for to sell stuffe to paint harlots' faces is a sin, because it is for no other use but to commit sin in the using of it." Silks were then worn only by people of the highest rank. to a»utterjj. 79 With hashfull blush I at the first him spak. With winkes and signes which he might ■vrell mistak ; Hee being young, not with such things acquent ; But when by wordes, he clearely mine intent Shall knowe, so that he shall be out of doubt, And see my armes him compasse aU about ; Such things anone his heart shall surely move. Like fire in Tindar, kindle shall his love To such a flame, that neither gods nor men, Shall able bee to quench the same agen. The houre is come, each houre it seemes a day ; Love's nature is to suffer no delay : I see the youth, my thoughts are now re-ohear'd. My sinkeing heart is now a little rear'd ; His timely comeing gives me hope, that I Shall gaine my point, and that hee by and by, WiU yield to mee whatever I require ; Coals smoake before they bee a burning fire. Soitijff). Thoo ! who can'st ev'n with the smallest thought, Breake all designes, and bring ill plots to nought; Thy constant Spirit at all times to me give. And suffer not my heart at all to cleave. Unto this woman, who with flattery. Me still enticeth unto leachery; To make a Bordell of my Master's hous&, And to commit vile whooredome with his spouse: Let not me now, after her beauty lust. How soone is flesh all turned into dust; 80 And crawling wormes, through belly and through hack, A lump ofilime, let not her eye me tah; By whoorish women men are brought with speede, To shame, disgrace, and to a peece of bread: give me strength such dangers to surmount ! This painted wretch still for my life doth hunt; A man in's bosome hardly can take fire, And not be kindled \nth some vile desire ; Clothes soone are sing'd, who can hote coals upon Groe, and not have his feete ev'n burn't anone ! So hee that goes unto his neighbour's wife, Who toucheth her deserves to lose his life ; Men not despise a Theefe, if so that hee In hunger, steale his soule to satisfie : If hee be found seven fold he shall restore, Of 's house the substance, all he shall give more ; Who so commits adultery is a foole, Hee that it doth, destroyeth his owne soule : A wound, dishonour, shall he get alway ; And his reproach shall not be wip'd away. I'm call'd to write, and darre not now refuse ; To goe through fire and water, I would chuse Before this earand, where such dangers are, Our brittle flesh most ready to ensnare. graunt me Lord I that on thy sacred Lore, My eyes and mind be fixed evermore ; Let me not thinhe that thickest palace walls, Or yron gates, or high gold sealed halls. Can let thy eyes to spye through all the parts, Of darkest closets that are in our hearts. to a»ult«rfi. 81 ^otb^iat'i WHiU. I hope this day that I my point shall winne, rie spare no paines, I'le goe through thicke and thin ; My clothes are rich, my skin now white appeares, My breast is bare, my browe no wrinkle beares ; I am adorn 'd with precious stones most rare, Pearles, Topas, Bubies, dangle on mine haire ; Such objects quickly kindleth youth's desire. What smoak'd before, to-day may be a fire. Ho ! youth, come hither that I may indite. Important missives which you now must write. To send abrod, that wheil my Lord shall come, Hee may perceive all things well done at home ; Write this, and this, and when yee thus have done. Unto your taske, goe from this place anone. This place is quiet, fdrre aback from din. None will without, heare what's said heere within. AU is well written as I doe suppose, Is it your will that I the letters close ? When that is done, I doubt not then but yee. Win let mee goe such things to oversee. As must be done before my master come ; Hee so me charg'd before he went from home. i^ottp{iar'd 'mat. In idlenesse your time yee doe not spend, For which you will rewarded be in end : I shall befriend you both by deede and word, What you may pleasure I shall it afford ; M S2 Yee never serv'd a Mistresse in your dayes, That you respected so in all your wayes ; All things yee doe at home, abrod, me move, You to regard all other men above : Most servants are both ill cmd idle too, They're joly praters, but are Jades to doe : Euff-puft some are thus in their proud ambition. That they forget how base is their condition ; At first they were base, cradl'd in their cloutes. Fit onely Cattell for to keepe with shoutes. Among the beards with whistle in their hand ; Ere they can serve, they others will command. Your fashion such is not, as I beleeve, Yee were not borne a servant still to live ; A servant I you never thought to bee. But noble borne, so thinke all that you see. Come hither youth, and see this glorious bed ? With cunning cost most richly furnished ; The Cabin's quiet, of all men about. None knowes who's heere, yee neede not nowe to doubt Of my good will, whereof yee have such proofe. What doe yee youth ? Why stand yee thus aloofe ? As I nowe speake, so also is my niiijd. Take tryall nowe, and yee it so shall find ; A man that's wise, a nod may understand, A wink, a touch, made by a Ladle's hand ; Why stand yee thus ? why backward doe yee move ? What servant would not winne his Ladle's low ? I somewhat blush, and hardly more can say, Yet sith occasion serves, I will essaye to a»ulUrfi. 83 To gaine my point, I'le hazard in a trice My honour nowe, as on the chance of Dice ; Hee is so nice, with such things unacquent. That hee can not take up incontinent, A woman's mind, therefore, I by and by, With him must passe the bounds of modesty. Ho ! youth, there's nothing that on earth doth m6ve. But it for object some thing hath to love ; Yea, senselesse things of love some tokens give ; One to another as wee see doth cleave : The Palme tree alwayes stoopeth in the calme. To sweetely kisse his spouse the female Palme ; With often whispers whistl'ing farre and neere. The Plaine tree courts the female Plaine his deare ; The Poplar woes the Poplar ; and the Vine, Her armes in love about the Ehne doth twine ; The hie hush the Oak claspes by and by, As I doe you, claspe me, and with me lye ; The place us fits, so also doth the time. Take yee the blooming of my beauties prime. Blush not faire youth, nowe cast thou off all feares ; Sweete pleasures plunged over head and eares ; As this occasion shall be by and by. Take honour ofif red, with thy Lady lye. God forbid ! God's eye a shining Taper, Sees aU that's done, your doore's a Sconce of paper. Will not us hide from his All seeing eye, To him the darknesse shineth like the skye : 84 Remember you to Potiphar belong, Thinke not that God will pocket up such wrong ; Knowe this in time, there is a Heav'n and Hell, In one of those for ever wee must dwell ; Heav'ns pearly gates, and purest Jasper walls. Shall lodge those soules, who in ohast nuptialls Shall 'lead their life, they neede not Sunije nor Moone, For God's bright face shines like the clearest noone ; That city faire, it is of boundlesse blisse. Peace, love, wealth, welfare, still doe other kisse. But no thing enters there that is uncleane. No Sog, no Dog, no persone that hath beene Remorselesse, wicked ; neither theefe nor whoore. Nor Lord nor Earll who doe oppresse the poore ; Nor witch, nor wanton, nor idolater; Nor lyar, drunkard, nor adulterer. Now God forbid that I should be misled. With lust for to defile my Master's bed ; In all the world if I should with you lye. None should be found more worthy death than I : Behold my Master wots not what's with me, In all the house, as all doe clearely see : All that he hath, he hath into my hand. Committed it, so that I all command ; In such a sort, none greater is then I, And how should I nowe with his Lady lye ? How then can I doe this great wickednesse. And 'gainst the Lord sin either more or lesse ? Madame, in time, to thinke on this begin. The nature well consider of this sin ; to ^BulterB. 85 And consequences that it followe neere,* That by this same yee may from it forbeare. Thy sin is vile, God's wrath it doth procure, It of a woman makes a filthy whoore ; It fearfuU is that yee should be misled, To lay a servant in his master's bed ; By such a sin I should unfaithfuU prove. Both to my Lord, and to my God above ; This sin it is abhorr'd by every nation. Tea, it's esteem'd a vile abomination ; Who among men can thinke that it is meete. That any man should for the Bastard sweate, Of him, that thus defiled hath his bed. Of him, that hath beene with his morsels fed ; And thinke yee, that this can be Bargaine faire. That of your husband's substance should be heire ; One thus begot ? I speake the same with greefe. My chUd on you should be a common theefe, While he enjoy'd that which was not his owne. And I another ; this may well be knowne, Who ever he be that in adultery. Begets a child, he stealeth by a by. First from himself the child that he begot. And gives't to others, to possesse the lot • " Si elle produit, elle fait entrer un Stranger dans la famille de son mari, elle 1' abuse, en le luy faisant aymer, et caresser comme son propre Fils ; elle luy donne part a une succession, oO il n' a aucun droit, et quelque fois meme elle le fait succeder au prejudice de ceux qui sont legitimes : oe qui est la derniere de toutes les injustices." (Le« Entretiens CuHeux, 1688.) SioStai) Cemntctt 86 And's heritage, whose bed hee did defile, Great floodes of sins flow from this sin so vile ; The pleasures short, it in a trice is done. But afterwards great greefe gangrenes the bone : Lawes sacred stand- for Hymen's sacred yoke, Which never one without a vengeance brok : Who knoweth God, and sets his heart to love him. No prayers, proffers, presents, once will move him. That with his eyes the covenant he should breake. Another's spouse but in his armes to take ; This sulph'ry fume of such unlawfuU lust, Will soone be quench 'd when wee are turn'd to dust ; When crawling wormes feede on us in the grave. What pleasure then shall vilest rufiSans have ? AU wanton lookes, and filthy, fleshy pleasure, When Old age comes shall greefe bring and displeasure ; God's eye from heav'n us clearely sees within. And als without, no thing can maske our sin. Madame, doe this, respect the God above, Shunne what may friend this your unlawful! love ; Shunne idlenesse, and pampering of the flesh, Vaine in appareU be not more or lesse ; Bee still about some honest occupation ; Shunne both the place and time of a temptation ; In any roome sit not with men alone, A spark it kindleth Tindar dry anone ; Though doores be clos'd, remember God's within, Madame, seeke mercy, and forsake your sin. In times to come from all such things forbeare, And what is past none of the same shall heare ; to aSuUti'fi. 87 Hate sin in time, if once yee breake the ice, In doeing well, yee in a very trice, Will find the sweete of vertue, and the sowre Of vice, which yee lov'd in your youthfull houre : Yee to your husband shall be alwayes deare. And from his mouth yee kindly vrordes shall heare ; Thee shall hee call Ms heart, Ms love, Ms life. Sis other self, Ms rest, his weak, his Wife ; Soone (on) the earth yee shall together spend, Tour life in peace, and get a joyfull end : God's justice stUl doth against sinners frowne. And at the last with shame doth bring them downe, And great disgrace ; then the smiling eye ! The smoothest chin, the cheeke of purest dye. The Pearles, the Rubies dangling on the haire ; The papes laide out, and als the breast made bare ; With gownes of silk pasmented all with gold. Which wanton eyes with lustfull lookes beholde ; then such things shall all without delay. Like filthy smoake ev'n vanish quite away ; And of them all shall leave no thing behind. But shame, and lack, and tortures in the mind. This is the end of persones ev'ry where. Who of their lusts lye pamp'red in the snare ; Now strive, Madame, yourself to overcome, 1 will no more unto your cabin come. Thou my God within, and als without, Thy heav'nly Wardens set me still about ; Mee for to guard in ev'ry occupation. That hence foorth I he not led in temptation ; 88 So make me wary that of sin and scath, By thee made free I stirre thee not to wrath. Lord my trust is onely upon thee, That thou in dangers wilt my guardian be ; let me not he vanquish't with the spell ! And vile enticements of this Hag of Hell, A shamelesse woman, who with lust misled. Thus tempts mse still to stains my Master's bed ; If I ov'rcome should bee with her temptation. Thy dreadfull judgements and just indignation. Should still me hunt, and hurle from place to place, A vagabond with shame and great disgrace. Youth for a space may lusty gambols shake. Not knoweing Tophet a most fierie lake ; Where soules among the dreadfvll flames shall burne. Whence is no hope for ever to returne ; Such plung'd in darhnesse shall so ever bee. That they the welkin bright shall never see. Lord, what's thy will make thou me it effect. That to thy Lawes I may myself subject ; So that I flinch not unto any side, But in all things may followe thee my guide, As well in secrete, as in public so. That where thou leades I willingly may goe. As doth a child led by his father's hand ; Make more and more mee for to understand. Thy sacred will, that as I doe prof esse. To fea/re thy name, I practise als no lesse ; If thou me leave I in my sins will stinke. And under weights of wrath at last will sinke : to aifulttrfi. 89 By thee dispatron'd, if I so should bee, Who could a comforte once afford to me ? The Hypocrites dissembling congregation, Shall sure at last be brought to desolation : In this temptation that is yet dependant, Lord thou sees I'm plaintif and defendant : Temptations rife, doe marche against me eag'r, And round about my Tent they me beleaguer. €^t mtuii. I'm disappointed in this thing, yet so As I suppose, the matter shall not goe :* 1 will assaye yet for to turne my saUe, T' another wind, that so I may prevaile. I'le give this Lady inkling that with speede, She curious curie the cockers of her head, That Saphir, Oniix, Topas, she command ; And other Stones set with a curious hand. Hang glauncing, dauncing on her haire as spangles, Or as the fruit upon the Tree that dangles. When with a gale of wind that loud doth bio, The branches waved are thus to and fro ; Such ornaments are fit to kindle fire, To waken up a lusty youth's desire. * "De sorteque, comme vn bon Mathematicien monstretost comme vn angle fait par le concours de deux lignes qui se joignent en vn point se peut partager en deux ; aussi le Diable apprend ayzement aux siens de quelle sorte desjoindre 1' assemblage de deux personnes bien vnies par le manage." (^Bannissement Des Folks Amovrs Par Le Sr. D'Avity. 1622.) N 90 Not onely so, her garments must be seene, In rich gold tissue on a ground of greene, Where as the shuttle did with art encheck, The changeant colour of Dove's glist'ring neck, That's figur'd ov'r with red, greene, black, and blewe, A checker work made of each costly hue : With Gold smith's work, a fringe of gold about, Her Robe must border, which must be set out With cunning cost, all butt'ned downe the side, With gold adorn 'd as if she were a Bride : Such ornaments are fit to kindle fire. To waken up a lusty youth's desire. Not onely so, but with such equipage. To cov'r some wrinkles that are made by age. She must be farded, that by such corrections, She may well mend of beautie the defections : When she therwith her cheekes shall cunning drench. Then shall she seeme of sixteene yeares a wench ;- With painted breastes, with painted cheekes and haire, Dangling with Ribbans, waving heere and there : Then will hee dote when he lookes on her head ; The Lilly mounts upon her breast will feede. His eyes will lust ; She dress't with comely grace. Will him allure her closely to embrace : The lady's lusty as a man would crave. And she in pranking proudly, doth goe brave : She as a Queene steps stately in her way, The Rubies burnish with a burning ray ; Those borrowed snares at last will Joseph catch. In hast I time will by the tresses snatch. to auuUerfi. I'le goe to her, when to her I am come, I in her heart will such devices humme ; She's sicke of Love, I'le yet her more ingage. Till that her love be turned into rage : My Bow is ient, mine Arrow's nached right, My left hand meetes the head, my breaste the right ; Her for to wound I will let goe the string. In way to her the winged shaft doth sing : Her hack it pierceih, and peepes out before. She lov'd him much, but now she'le love him more. Pott'pBar'sS Wliie. What can this be ? I whiles am in a flame, And whiles as with ane ague chill'd I am ; My heart is swolne with sighes and sorrowes great. Both day and night my heart within doth fret ; I wish, if I such folies could forbeare, That I a Bor-Mouse were a thousand yeare. That I might sleepe, a sleepe so uncontroull'd. To shunne the ill that waking I behold : What can this bee ? the fire yet swiftly seekes, To passe the pathes, and aU the crooked creekes, Within my heart ; Love passion's are more eag'r. They on all sides this heart of mine beleaguer : Thoughts as fell Hornets from their drowsie nest, Come buzzing so within my troubled breast, With Asking traine, that I must by and by, Stitch 't fuU of stings with paine lye downe and dye ; Tea dye for him whom I can not attaine. Who for my love still meetes me with disdaine. 91 92 What ? Shall I dye ? I him yet will assaile, If that my Card and Gompasse doe not faile. I'le gaine my point ; I either shall him move, In chearefuU way for to accept my Love ; Or else I shall doe this incontinent, A stratageme most quicke I shall invent, That hee me sought, and would me als abuse. But that I chast, did his sutes still refuse : To him my husband will not audience give. Say what hee will, hee will him not beleeve. Some way I'le find him for to overcome, I know hee wiU not to my Cabin come. For so hee said ; sith hee'le not come to me, To goe to him I will most willing be : I'le waite my time when fittetb most my diet, I'le waite untill that all the house be quiet, And hee within, then wiU I to him goe, And freely will speak to him so and so. Now time is come ; my heart it springs for hast. About his neck my milk white armes to cast ; rie hold him, hug him, saying welcome Mine, Deare Mine thou art, and I am also Thine : Heere's faire occasion, why desire wee thus. To sport in love ? none is to hinder us. While wee have time, now let us doe with speede, Lovers must darre, and for no dangers dread : Why burne wee day light 1 wee have time and place. My dearest Heart, nowe let me thee embrace. Let time not slip, by feare or yet by sloth, Heere lye with me, this Bed will serve us both. • to atiuUtfs. 93 Madame, Madame, nowe farre misled yee are, Think that yee are the wife of Potiphar ; My noble Lord who doth us all command, Hee would not looke to get this from your hand ; That yee through lust so furiously misled. Should lay a servant in his Master's bed ; It is most base Madanie, I you assure. That yee, my Mistresse, should become my whoore ; To shame your self, your sexe, your house, your Lord, Your parents, children, friends ; yea, in a word. Tee by this deede shall make your self most vile, If yee with whooredome should yourself defile ; If so such lusts shall still possesse your heart, A stinkeing Fame shall trumpet your depart : Let not your mind to folies such incline, God's eyes each where as Tapers bright doe shine ; When hee is wroth most heavy is his hand, Severely shakeing his correcting wand, To scourge the sins of greate as of the small, Respect of persones hee hath none at all ; Wee should not bee like to a head strong colt. Headlong to runne downe in a strange revolt. And mariage knot so basely breake asunder, God surely wall on such from heav'ns thunder : Lust's like a Bowie which running downe a hill, The farrer't runnes, it runnes the faster still : Sometimes in 's way it meetes a stone that stops The speede a space, but up again it hopps ; It leapes, it slots, and stayes not, though it stumble, Till from the top it to tlie bottome tumble. 94 Heare my discourse which sweetely slides along, And yee'le be loath your Potiphanr to wrong ; See is your Lord, on you he doth distill, Love's honey dewes which in great dropes doe trill ; To give you gold, rich jewels, and attire. Yea, all that any Lady could require ; Hee spares no cost ev'n on you all the while. Since yee him hnewe, and why should yee defile ? His bed with one that is a servant base. With me Madame, with me, with me, alas ! Sith as yee heare the matter's so and so. Now loose your grips, and quickly let me goe ; If from you I this favour can not find, lie rather chuse to leave my cloak behind. Potfpfiar'd tmiit. doole ! doole ! help, help, doole ! doole ! 1 am abused by a slave, a foole : Is none heere neere, to heare niy shrillest cry ? I blush to tell what he hath done, fy, fy : Ho, servants heare ! come to my help anone, Or with a slave I'le surely be undone ; I'm sicke with cryes, fy, is no servant heere, That from this windo crying will me heare ? I see the nurse ; Ho ! nurse unto me come, For I with greefe almost am overcome. €it Wurfie. What nowe, Madame, what is't that ailes you there ? What is't that hath dischevell'd all your haire ? to aDttUtrfi. 95 Potfjj&ar'S wait. My Nurse, my Nurse, this base and beggar Lowne Hath throtl'd me, and also cast me downe Upon this bed, to force me to his will. For this those teares nowe downe my cheekes doe trill ; I'm sham'd for ay, though no more were then this, Ere ev'n I wist, this slave my mouth did kisse ; Hee crafty came to me in stealeing way. When I was sleeping in the canopey ; I blush for shame to tell it ; ! the Slave, The Jew, the Rascall, the base Hebrew Knave ; The vilest vUlaine that hath ever beene. Within my doores ; where hath the like beene seene. Or heard of ever ? that a basest slave, Durst but a kisse of his owne Lady crave ; But nowe, this Jew, a Rascall most impure. Would mee his Mistresse for to be.his whoore ; This day I have received such disgrace. That I for shame can not lift up my face : Hee had me forc'd ; but when hee heard my cry, For feare from hence hee hasted by and by ; And that the trueth yee.in my wordes may find, Such was his feare, hee left his cloak behind. Hee suddaine disappeared at my word, Ev'n as the powder fired on a boord : When touch'd with fire it mountes with suddaine flash, And steales away in smoake with little clash ; The villaine did right so incontinent, Hee leap't aside, and to the doore he went : See that the villaine no more seene be heere, With hue and cry pursue him farre and neere ; ^oitai Cttnptetr 96 And make him fast till that my husband see, In what a guise hee hath abused me. Woe's me, Madame, that ev'r I saw this day ; That such a Rascall should you thus betray ; A Theefe within doores is thought worse than ten, That are without : excrement of men ! Where is the Rogue ? hee shall such deedes bewaile. When after him his entrailes he shall traile. How farre, Madame, did I this man mistake, It's hard to judge betwixt ane Eel and Snake : deare Madame, have patience but a while, For time at last, will with a secrete file, Diminish cares, and troubles of each sorte ; Ho ! nowe I see, what^will you nowe comforte. Behold your husband heere is hard at hand. When hee what's done shall clearely understand ; He in great wrath will sharpen then Ms eye, When hee that villaine shall before him see. PotfpSar. What now my heart ? what wanly doth displace, The Eose mix't Lillies in your lovely face ? What cause of greefe hath made you so to smart ? Yee're wan and pale since I from you did part. pottpiar'it WHU. Our dayes by turnes goe in this mortall life, Ev'n nowe with joy es, anone with jar res and strife ; to attuUtrn. 97 When yee went hence, yee left a Crocodile, Within your house, who murthers with a smile : That Hebrew Slave, that Rascall most impure, Would me his Mistresse for to be his whoore ; By him I have received such disgrace. That I for shame can not lift up my face ; Hee had me forc'd, but when hee heard me cry. For feare, from hence he hasted by and by ; And that the trueth yee in my wordes may find. Such was Ms feare he left Ms cloak beMnd ; Tee judge are heere, and therefore keepe your Session, And well advise to punish such transgression ; I'm sham'd for ay, though no more were then this. Ere ev'n I wist, this slave my mouth did kisse. Your wordes; your face that's pale, mee greatly move, For in th' Exchequer of my dearest love, First place that love hath, which I, to you beare. No thing on earth unto me is so deare ; With cloudy care yee 're muffl'd up the whiles, When as your face was fill'd with pleasing smiles ; Your greefe is uncouth, and the fault is strange. Ere it be long I shall your wrong revenge ; I see the villaine comeing nowe affarre, Who caused all the greefes that in you are. Ho ! Sirra come, is this th' Arabian way ? That yee a slave your Master should betray. And make no bones in wayes that are most vile, Youf Master's bed with whooredome to defile ; 98 See how remorselesse heere the slave doth stand, His conscience dull doth no thiag understand ; This ruth-lesse villaine in his lust so mad, Upon my Lady then no pity had ; When kindled was this slave's unchast desire, His dev'lish thoughts did still refawne the fire. Thou beastly man, unthankful! ev'ry way. Thou -wast a slave, when I thee brought away From those Arabians, that thou might'st me serve. My kindnesse great did better things deserve« I found thee vile, and in a base estate, I (rais'd) thee up unto a higher seat. Above thy fellowes ; after that with speede, I of a foot boy set thee on a steede. Which wanton, souple, nimbly so and so, Could curvet, turne, runne, praunce, advance also ; Remember what at first I saide to thee. When I thee bought my servant for to be. Come hither lade, I saide, nowe courage tdk. Bach thou this steede. Fie thee a rider male ; This well I wot, Ineede no inquisition. Thou for the better chang'd hast thy condition ; Thou served merchands both in colde and heate, Who after them through mires upon thy feet. Still made thee runne with weari'd limmes, and so, Ev'n as a -drudge after their packs to goe: More sowre then sweete thy life was them among, As I doe thinJe; hut ere that it he long. Thou no more with a troubling tempest driv'n. Shall cleared see thy sad and low'ring Heav'n: Take courage, and in all things faiihfull be. to a»nUtrfi. 99 And thou may'st loohe for favour so from me. These were my wordes before I went away, I als when I thee ragged saw, did say ; His clothing^s coarse, yea it is very had, But now I mind to see him seemely clad. In silken suite, with a rich Livery, Of purple fine, full of embrodery; I also will in honour set him up. Upon a horse the stateliest of the Troope. All this I saide, and minded was for more, Thou should'st have faithfuU beene to me therefore ; Another would for such a kindnesse thank, But thou unfaithful! hast me play'd a prank. The like whereof as yet not heard I have. That such a Lady should be with a slave. Abused so, to satisfy his lust ; Now death for thee a punishment is just. Ho ! Jayler, come, come and without delay, Take thou this villaine to the jayle away ; And let him there within the dungeon lye. With harlots, theeves, that worthy are to dye ; Let him your pris'ner still be barely fed, With puddle-water and with harly bread. Among this lice, and doung with filthy scent, Let be his bed ; doe this incontinent. Alas ! my Lord, why will you be so strict, Mee to condemne, untry'd, and unconvict ? I'le tell the trueth, your Lady, and not I Is in the guilt, if yee the same will try. ^oitsi CttnpttU 100 Slave ! silence keepe, how darre thou speake a worde, Blush rather in the presence of thy Lord ; Thou lovest lyes, thou misled art therein, Without remorse for thy most filthy sin : Legions of Dev'Us are in thee, daye and night, Like Shoales of crowes which on a field doe light, To wast up all ; thou shalt no more deceiye ; To prison {Jayler) with this filthy Knave, Out of my sight ; I with my fauchin keene. Should at a blowe hewe both thine armes off cleane ; But I disdaine upon a slave so vile. That I my hands should at this time defile. I will no more this beastly Traitour see, Come Jayler, take this monster nowe from me, Hee is some Sorc'rer that hath learn 'd in Hell, For to bewitch a Lady with his spell. Ciie jailor Passe quickly hence, and suffer for thy wrong. Before thy Lord thou standest heere too long ; Gee get thee hence to prison by and by. Where among Toads, and Serpents thou shall lye. Where pinch 'd with want the Bar bread thou shalt eate. Hard in the Stocks I fasten shall thy feete. Lord thou see''st what still hath beene my part, Thou sond'st the deepeest of the doublest heart ; In all this nuctter onely from thy feare, From Carnell pleasures I did so forbear e. to SUfuUtrj). 101 Lord to thee who liast no partiall zeale, Unto thy Throne of Justice I appeale; Thou art the Judge, the Jury, Witnesse too; Thou Jcnowest all, what wee speake, thinJce, or doe; Our secrete thoughts thou see\t with clearest eye, Thou dost each thought (ere it be thought) descry. Lord with comfortes, and with speaches kind, Cancell my fear es, and well confvrme my mind; For, for the present ihrill'ds my hea/rt with paine. As with a Whip saw it were cut in twaine. With sable courtaine heere, beclouded all 1 see no light, no wicket in the wall ; Here in a dungeon {worse then death), I dwell With Toads, and Serpents, in a loathsome cell : Pain'd and perplexed is my troubl'd mind. But in my God I comforte hope to find. stubborne stomach ! cause of all my sadnesse. Cease for to fret, for God at last with gladnesse, Will fill my heart ; to him I'le lift my hands, Who stiU hath prest* a thousand winged Bands, To guarde his children when men them assaile, Hee oft not helpes, but when all helpes doe faile t TEB USE. Wee haw great neede to pray to God to save us, For our corruptions still doe seeke to slave us : * Ready. ■f Connected with the life of Joseph, it is observed by the eminent Oriental scholar. Dr. Adam Clarke, that " the Persian poets and Eastern historians contrive to carry on a sort of guiltless passion Sioitfi) Cenij^tetr Temptations rife assaile those hearts of ours, As thick, yea thicker then the welkin poiores. The showres ofraine, which dotvne in dropes doe passe, On meadows spangl'd with aflow'ry grass : Wee should hee watchfull lest at any houre, That roaring Lion come and us devoure ; Our inbred thoughts, the theeves that are within. Wee must them watch, lest they us snare in sin ; Wee must them still keepe short, and clip their wings. Pare neere their nailes, and als pull out their stings. Let women leame to shunne both time and place, Which on them may bring sin or yet disgrace : It is not seemely, man and woman be Alone in Chambers; though their minds be free. between Joseph and Potiphar's wife till the death of Potiphar ; when Zuleekha (as she is named) grown old, is restored to youth and beauty by the power of God, and becomes the wife of Joseph. What traditions they had beside the Mosaic text for what they say on this subject are now unknown, but the whole story with innumerable em- bellishments is so generally current in the East, that 1 thought it not amiss to take this notice of it. The twelfth chapter of the Koran, which celebrates the beauty, piety, and acts of this Patriarch, is allowed to be one of the finest specimens of Arabic composition ever formed, and the history itself as told by Moses, is one of the most simple, natural, affecting, and well-told tales ever published. It is a master- piece of composition, and never fails of producing its intended effect on the mind of a careful reader. The Arab lawgiver saw, and felt the beauties and excellences of his model, and he certainly put forth, all the strength of his own language, and all the energy of his mind, in in order to rival it." With the rest of the literati our Author appears to have struggled hard to give all the interest he could to this Plot; and like some of the ancient Fathers of the Christian Church, while warning against vice, at the same time laying open its blandishments and seductions. to aautterp. From guiltinesse at first ; hut how soone, May Satan compasse, that which being done, May thrill their heart ; the danger is not small, Who stands the day, the morrow he may fall. Corruptions swarme within men's hearts like bees. Or Maggots crawling in a rotten cheese, They will breake foorth, and quickly wrigle out. Except the Lord us hourely guarde about ; When lust doth rage it like a canker frets; It topsie turvie, upside downe all sets ; It flames the eyes; the heart within it fires. On thousand toyes; it shuffles our desires ; It spoiles our wits, and makes us imprudent; It steeles our browe, and makes us impudent ; Jf'here once it reigneth, there it maketh sure, A man a harlot, and a wife a whoore ; A thousand Lies it patcheth by and by. To cloake the shame, were it with perjury. Observe how subtle whoores can thus invent, To lay the fault upon the innocent. To cov're their oione ; how ready in a trice. Then did this wife imagine this device. That hee who still refus'd to satisfy. Her lust, was hee that then would with her lye : A Trick most sure that forged was in hell; By this wee all should bee instructed well. Not soone to trust, before that first wee try. For oft like trueth, pourtrayed is a lye. Let all young men of Joseph's doeings heere, Learne in their youth the Living Ood to feare ; 103 104 In judgement wee must all compeare anone, Both young and old before the Judge's Throne. In that great day, a noise shall thrill the eares Of wicked men, and fill their hearts with feares : MedouWd lightnings dazle shall tlteir eyes. The roaring Thunder route shall through the skyes ; The whirling fames in their career shall crack. And mountaines tall shall from their centre shah ; A cloak of clouds all throughly lyn'd with thunder, Shall muffle mountaines both aloft and under. The smoaking storme, and the whirls fire shall flash, And winged winds shall make the cloudes to clash. But Qod at last downe from the heavnly round. With roaring voice shall drowne all other sound ; Gom^, or Depart, shall bee the wordes that day, Which shall to Heav'n or Hell make ready way. happy they who Godly live and chast, For they in Heaven with God shall lodge at last. iFCn(s. 106 107 The Speakers. 1. The Philistines. 2. King Saul. 3. Jesse. 4. David. 5. The Israelites. 6. The Gaptaines. 7. Eliab. 8. Goliah. Not long agoe wee Israel did disgrace, Who fear'd the keene edge of our courtelace ;* Since Saul was King they all doe courage tak, His Jonathan hath caus'd us turne the back : 'Twix Bozez, Seneh, two sharp rocks, he went With sword in hand, when he incontinent. Unto us shew'd him self both sterne and strange, Ev'n like a wolf which cruelly doth range. Through ilockes of sheepe ; the time for us ,is (good). That nowe wee arme for to revenge that blood. * A short, broad sword, or Cutlass, 108 To Schochoh and to Azekah wee'le goe, In Ephes-dammim* with (an armie) so : 'Tins Shochoh and the Azekah, we will Our armie pitch, which shall the country fill. With terrouc great ; if wee can courage tak, Wee'le see anone all Isra'l turne the back. ^aul. Why suffer wee our foes us to surprise ? Like one who dead in Epilepsie lyes ; Shall I now wast my travell and my seede, To reap ane empty straw, or naughty reed ? If wee tak courage wee shall in this place. Their battr'd brains cause fall upon their face : By Elah's valleyet wee a place will got, That in aray wee may the Battel! set, * Calmet thinks that Shochoh and Azekah were places which lay to the south of Jerusalem, and to the west of Beth-lehem, about Bfteen miles from the former. Ephes-dammim was in the vicinity ; but its precise locality is not knoirn. — (See 1 Samuel, chap, xvii, ver. I 3). It is supposed that this war occurred eight years after the anointing of David, and teH or twelve years after the war nith the Amalekites. In some respects the positions of the contending armies were not unlike those at the late Battles of Alma and Inkerman. t The valley of Elah, which some translate the turpentine valley, or the valley of the terebinth trees ; and others, the valley of oaks, is yet well ascertained. It is situated about ten miles to the west of Jerusalem, and three miles from Beth-lehem, and has within it the modern village of Ain Kareem, and the remains of old buildings now scarcely to be distinguished. From the brook running through it, David "chose him five smooth stones" for his sling, with one of which he slew Goliath. According to travellers, the water has since refreshed many a thirsty pilgrim journeying from Jaffa to Jerusalem, who must all pass the brook on their road. 109 Against our foes who shall most surely flee, -s When they shall see our armed company ; Our palfreyes praunoe, our horse on ev'ry wing, Begin to snuflf, to snort, to leape, and fling. Ho ! David, come ; consider and behold. How I, your father, hoary nowe and old. Desire of you that with provision. To your three brethren you should goe anone ; My first borne Eliab, nowe is from me farre ; Abinadab and Shammah at the warre, Are with the King to Blah's valleye neere. The Philistines are mighty, as I heare : Prepare to-night, and goe away at morne. And take ane ephah of this parched come. And those ten loaves ; with them now quickly goe. And in the camp thy brethren runne unto : And to the captaine of theire thousand take. Ten cheeses fine ; make hast and be not slack: §ee that thou looke how that thy brethren fare. And take theire pledge when thou shalt find them there. Rise earely up from thy soft morning sleepe. And to the keeper leave thy flocke of sheepe : My heart is toss'd most like a rageing sea. Where tumbling billowes bath the very sky : Warre fearfull is, but yet wee must obey, Superiour powers who ov'r us doe sway, Th' imperiall mace ; God hath ordained so. That subjects humble, either come or goe. no As kings command ; if it be reasonable, For to repine, it such is treasonable ; But oh, alas ! I feare Philistines stab, Eliab, Shammah, and Abinadab. I9ab(tr Fa,rewell deare father as you say, ev'n so, This thrice I'le for my brethren undergoe ; What yee as father unto me appoint, I will the same performe in every point. Aurora's cleare, the way is good and drye, I come good speede, I hope that by and by, I to the hoast shall come, where I shall see, Men that for God, stout and courageous bee : Neere Elah's valleye nowe I see afarre, A great appearance of a bloody warre : O Lord keepe short our foes, and {and in all things) Paire neere their nailes, pull out their balfuU stings ; They weary us with tribut, toll, and tax. And subsidies untiU they breake our backs : Lord of Hoasts I doe thee humbly pray. That thine owne Isra'l [none) may {harm) to day ; For th' Hebrewes fight, make Philistines, Lord ! To feele thy hand, who doe not feare thy worde : Our gallant men courageous make, that they May foile their foes, and so may have the day. Aurora's past, and Phoebus well aray'd, Climbes up the heav'n with golden lookes display'd ; anti (SoUafi. Ill His sister pale which from his beaming light, Her splendour borrowes for to cleare the night, Is nowe gone downe ; the starres no more appeare, The sunne in wagon* makes th' horizon cleare ; The time us fites, that wee in Baltell ray, Nowe set ourselves ; wee hope to have the day. That all should fight it might seeme to be cruell, It better is that we appoint a Duell ; That one be chosen out of ev'ry side. That those the quarrell 'quickly may decide : We have a Gyant that is borne in Gath, See where hee stands within a narrow path ; With broad bright eyes like unto a fuU moone. Colossus Kke, he wiU bee ready soone. With sword in hand 'gainst any man to passe ; Hee hath on's head a helmet made of brass, Betwix his shoulders hee a target beares. That's made of brass, hee seemes the king of feares : Hee with a looke will Isra'l all affright, Who darre be bold 'gainst such a man to fight ? Goliah, ho ! knowe what we doe intend. Our will's that yee now quickly downe descend. Into that valley ; and that by and by Yee aU the hoast of Israel now defy. Yee know right well that I not courage lak, I will this dueU gladly undertak : * A Northern Constellation called Charles's Wain, sometimes the JFaggoner, liabftr 112 This day I looke that I shall glory gaine, And soone returne victorious home againe : I'm armed well, my coate is all of male, My sword is such it never yet did faile ; Now from this path, I'le to the valleye goe, And standing there I will speake so and so. Ho ! pultrons all who on that hill doe stand, Ane answer give, that I may understand, If any bee among your captaines found, Who hand in hand darre face me* on this ground. And fight it out ; let one on ev'ry side, Nowe by a duell all our strife decide. See how like sheepe they flee from me away, While I my weapons on this field display ; All Isra'l's armies I (this day) defye, (Never shall) I, unto such cowards crye,» Feare teares your eyes, and blurres your senses so,. That none among you darre to Battell goe : Send to me one, send twenty, I'le them treade. And after that, glut with theire blood my blade ; I looke that I shall a triumphing crowne, Get on my head, and cloath'd be with renowne ; I hope PhUistia nowe shall get a spoile, For Isra'l's men in trembling way recoile : As I perceive they all will turne the back, Be ready lades the booty for to take. tS;]b« iitsLtUtti. This fearefull parley makes us troubl'd all, While wee behold this gyant that's so tall ; anti (fSoIfaj^. 113 Who cau such weapons carrie by his side ? What armour can his bloody blowes abide ? Pale fearefuU shiv'rings all our joints doe thrill, Wee see no way for to prevent this ill : Most rosie cheekes are tum'd to earthen hew, And from our browes drop downe ane icy dew ; Our lofty captaines seeme, {to he) all humble. They tume the back, they slide {away and fumble,) Stout hearted faint, with fault'ring feet they fly, While as they heare this great Goliah's crye. Behold some others from the lofty clift. Which running, fly like Hinds that are so swift. Men's hearts are downe ; none nowe doth courage tak, All men tume cowards and doe tume the back ; All heartlesse are who seemed once most bold. This frowning visage none darre nowe beholde : Hee's like the Lions that through forests forrage, Hee weildes his weapons with a dauntlesse courage : Like unto sheepe wee on the mountaines are. Of Slavish feare wee're hamp'red in the snare ; Our Peeres through feares, now to and fro doe reel, All'voide of counsell for our common well ; When unto men God talents rich hath giv'n, It is to {trade) for him that's God of heav'n. That backe againe hee may receive his gold. With sixty, sev'nty, or a hundreth fold : Alas ! how few are they that understand. What God hath done by his Almighty hand. At divers times from dangers to relieve. Us in distress, which should us courage give ; Q I9ab(ti 114 Fy, Fy, that men should in feare thus descrye. That all should tremble at this cackling pye, (At) such a Doa who doth defye us all, And als our God the God of Israel : I see no more, but courage all is lost. To fight this man none is in all our hoast. Behold the King on Horseback comming fast, Wee'le heare what hee will say to us at last : Hee's chaft, his Face is red with running nowe. Great sweate falls downe all bubbling from his browe ; Great worke's in hand ; wee'le unto him draw neere. That his advice wee at this time may heare. Captaines now receive from me instruction : Bee not inchained in gyves of base subjection To feare your foe, and basely for to yeelde ; Take courage nowe and bravely face the field ; Why feare yee so, thus fisking in and out. Like those who of the Lord's protection doubt ? Feare not this man, who by his mouth profane Doth play the Dog ; and belchs out with disdaine Against our God, and 'gainst his people all ; When pride is greatest swiftly doth it fall : This villaine vile blaspheemes (wo worth his hap), Hee is a Div'U within a man his shape Though hee seemes strong, and sturdily doth goe, God will find some that will him overthro. See how hee stands in a most raging moode ; Upon his beard of foame comes downe a flood ; antr <£oUa|&. His mouth is froathj, fury fills his face, Hee's like a Horse that's prauncing in his place : His long black lockes hang shagged Satyres like, Adowne his necke, his bush bearde floateth thicke ; His armes are brawnie, and all bristl'd are Most Hedge hog like, with wire instead of haire ; Like two fire brands his eyes they doe appeare ; With frowning face, he seemes the King of Feare. Yet for all this, wee will some courage tak, For all is lost if wee now turne the back ; Some Captaine stout will take this Duell in hand, If, that from mee hee shall this understand. That he who shall this Philistine nowe slay. Shall by mee well rewarded be this day. Tea this I'le cause declare by trumpet sound. If any shall in all this hoast be found, Who Isra'l shall of this great fear relieve, I'le unto him my daughter Michal* give. iLie €a$taineii. The danger's great, though great bee the reward ; Men more their life then great rewards regard ; If any hope of vict'ry were in sight. For such rewards men gladely all would fight ; Where death is certaine, that man is not wise. That on a venture darre so enterprise. The man's a gyant of a stature tall, His onely weight would crush us bones and all : ■ One who is perfect.. 115 S9(ibttt 116 Who lookes on him may easily perceive, His very mouth capacious as a cave ; Upon his legs as pillars hee doth goe, Hee's like a steeple reeling to and fro : Hee goes as hee would all us overwhelme, A Cypress tree doth wave upon his helme ; His burnish 'd harnesse like a comet bright, All blazing bloody seemeth in our sight ; His lance a loome beame, yea a mast most big, Which he doth shake ev'n like an Osier twig : His coat of male, the strength hard can carrie. Yea its a burden, to a Dromderrie : His stormie voice is like the roaring thunder. When as the clouds most sulph'ry breake asunder ; From top to toe hee's all in harnesse bright ; What captaine darre with such a gyant fight ? Great's the reward, yet no man darre appeare ; Wee love the prize, but none will winn't so deare. beastly men of Isra'l give yee eare ; How long shall yee like cowards shake for feare ? Among you all is not a champion, That in this valleye, darre me fight alone In single combat ? that wee {may) copclude Our variance nowe, by one man's onely blood : Is there not one among you that hath strength. With whom I heere, might cope nowe at the length ? fy for shame ! that none darre come me neere. When I defye, like haires they flee for feare : anU (ffifoUalj. 117 With coates of brasse they come, and caps of Steele ; While they should fight, anone they turne the heele. If yee not fight, why come yee to the field ? Why are you arm'd ? it's best that now yee yeelde. And bee our Servants as yee were before. Cast downe your armes, and so rebeU no more : Fy ! fy ! nowe great is Israel's disgrace, None darre mee meete nor look mee in the face : Freez'd Minions all, most brave in vaunts and vowes, Lions in court, in camp are turn'd to cows ; Base cowards aU, shall thus the day begone ? If yee not fight why put yee armour on ? O that one were to buckle with me heere. Your Mighty God lesse then yourselves I feare : Come fourty, fifty, yea, come all of you, Yea, let your God come also with you nowe.. O fugitives who darre not turne the face, This day I shall you cover with disgrace ; And als your God of whom yee greatly boast, For feare this day hee hath left Isra'l's hoast : Fy beastly men who can not fight but fly. You and your God I doe this day defye. My soul abhorres to see this villaine lewd. Who like a Cyclop 'gainst the heav'ns hath spew'd, Blaspheemous wordes, which all the skye defile, His wordes are all of a most uncouth stile ; The Lord of Hoasts I hope shall let us see. This mouth blaspheemous muzzl'd so to be, IBabttt 118 That it shall not be able more or lesse, Against our God such railings to expresse. But oh, alas ! as yet I not perceive. That of my captaiines any courage have, But they are like some fearefull {chaffincheyes,) Who see some hardy Tercell* {from the skyes,) To stoop with {sarcels) swift and so draw neere, From hush to bush they in a panick feare, Wagtayling goe, so that none can them make, Theire thornie covert there at aU forsake ; So th' Hebrew troopes this boasting gyant shun, And from his face in trembling feare doe run ; It is in vaine that I entreat or threat, I scarce can three or four together get. Among us {all) none either will or can, Nowe undertake to grapple with this man ; His monstrous limbs when in the {earth} they thrust, Up in the skyes they raise a cloud of dust : No man hath courage for our common weale, Gone from their breastes, their hearts are to their heele. What shame that thus our so victorious hoast, Should all be daunted with ane Pagan's boast ? This bragging fellow for to work our shame, WUl say, I CAME, I look'd, I overcame ;+ 'Mong all their worthies none durst undertake, In panick feare they soone did turne the back ; • A male hawk. ■f The motto of the Roman Emperor Julius Csesar, vENr, vim, vicr. ants (&oliaf>. 119 Chill'd with an ague all unapt to fight, More sheepe then men scone put unto the flight. Yea more then this that wee before him fly, Hee'le both us shame and will our God defye ; Is heere no man for God to undertak ? What shame is it that Isra'l turne the back ? Shall nowe this nation of so great renowne. Thus be destroy'd, and sack't and battr'd downe ; Cheare up your hearts, our GOD'S a God of might, Feare not this man, that with his sword so bright, Doth brandish thus ; goe to, make no delayes, Who fights for God, God will him crowne with bayes ; But if that so, those ov'r us should reigne, Wee'le be their vassels or some baser thing : WiU no man stir at such a villaine's cryes, Who both our God, and army als defyes ? If men for ought should boldly undertake. It should be for the great Jehovah's sake. My eare abhorres to heare how so he cryes. His blaspheemies doe pelt the very skyes ; Fy, what's our feare ? why stand wee thus in awe ? Who shall him fight shall be my sonne in law. Cjbe Captained. Who darre unto this monster nowe drawe neare ? Ev'n at his sight our hearts are squis'd vnth feare, And tremble ev'n as doth the Aspen leafe. Except the heav'ns us help, ther's no releefe j The King doth offer what a man could crave ; But when a man is brought unto his grave, 120 Moulded in dust, what can such giftes availe ? Thoughts of such dangers make our face grow pale. Saul offers much, the gifte is great indeede. What boots a gifte when once a man is dead ? The civik garland of greene oaken boughs, Thrice three times wreath 'd about men's glorious browes, Allureth much unto some noble fact ; But who darre nowe in such a danger act ? 'Gainst this Golosse so big, so fierce a foe, Hee seemes some steeple reeling to and fro ; His brazen cuiress none of us can cary, If hee come forward none of us will tary ; Hee at a stroake will grund us into powder. His long black lockes hang shagg'd adowne his shoulder : Wee for this DueU darre not nowe appeare. We wish the prize, but who wiU winn't so deare ? jBabttr. This monster's boast cooles Isra'l's courage so. Within my breast it makes a rage to glow : Through aU my veines I find a burning fire, To see how Captaines that doe fight for hire, Recoile in hast, like Haires with trembling feare. As soon as they doe see him drawing neere; Big lookeing minions also, all make hast To tume their heeles ; the hoast is all agast. Ho ! Isra'l's men nowe answer me anone, Declare what shall unto the man be done ? Who shall with courage bravely undertake, This single combat, and so Israel make 121 Free of all feare, in this (distracting day). And shall from Isra'l take reproach away ; For who's this man uncircumcis'd ? that he, Should a reproach thus unto Isra'l be ? My heart abhorres to heare this monster crye, Who of the Lord the armies doth defye. Hee that this day this danger shall award, Shall from the King receive a rich reward ; Saul's daughter hee shall have to be his spouse, In Isra'l free shall be his father's house ; None darre him fight lest that he surely dye, Hee is most fierce that dwells within his eye : Hee sternly lookes when Captaines him behold, They stagger, startle, tremble as in cold : No martiall mien we looke to see this day, When stoutest captaines thus doe shrink away : When as they see this strong limm'd champion shake, His loome beame lance, with hast they turne their back ; By any wordes wee can not represent. The ghastly lookes that from their hearts are sent ; Their heads all droop, they in their port and guise. Have bloodlesse cheekes, and deadnesse in their eyes : If any bee that such a courage have, To fight, hee shall a rich reward receive. miah. Thou idle boy thus vagueing here and there, Thou hast cast off, of those few sheepe the care ; n 122 Our father's flock ; hast thou no more adoe. But 'mong the soldiers thus a wand'ring goe ? Thou hast not earand hither certainely. But heere and there to looke with wand'ring eye : Thou for the sheepe cares neither more nor lesse, I knowe the pride, and als the naughtinesse, That from thy youth have ever beene in thee, For thou art come the Battell for to see ; A faithfull sheppard still his flock among, Them guides, them guardes, and doth them lead along, The pastures greene, where they may eate their fill, And be refresh'd beside the waters still ! Why are you wroth ? why kindled are your eyes ? Oi that wee humbl'd could, with dusty knees Call on the Lord, in such a troublous time ! My comming hither surely is no crime : Why rage yee thus, yee, my brother deare ? Yea, is there not a cause I should be heere ? What have I done ? when tortur'd on a rack, God's people is, strings of my heart they crack, To see them shaken all like broken reedes. Spare, brother deare, to prick the heart that bleedes. Hence I must goe unto some other part, Where I discharge may what's within my heart. Ho ! Isra'l's men now answer me anone. Declare what shall unto the man be done. Who shall with courage stoutly undertake. This bloodly Duell, and so Isra'l make. aria (&oHaf). Free of all feare in this same very day, And shall from Isra'l take reproach away ? Hee that this day this danger shall avard, Shall from the King receive a rich reward ; Saul's daughter he shall have to be his spouse, In Isra'l free shall be his father's house. / see, King, Priest, and People all are clad. From sorrowes wardropes with a colour sad: . They silent stand; deep silence sure affords, Griefe^s sharper accent, then most eloquent wordes. Heare nowe, yee, I have laid this conclusion, I will him fight, and that with resolution : I'm hither sent, ev'n by the Lord of Hoasts, To swage the swellings of this pagan's boastes ; I am resolv'd that monster to assaile, Who 'gainst *he heav'ns so proudly still doth raile: I hope this day, the sablest day of sorrowe. Shall turne to joye, and that before to-morrowe ; 'Gainst Philistines nowe Lord my helper he, For through our sides, Lord they thrust at tliee. Doubtes mongrel whelpes of dung hill contemplation, Doe hurry faith from (its) appointed station : This boy seemes nought such acts for to atchieve, But who can tell but God by him [may give), Deliv 'ranee rare ; lest that wee should [hee rent) ; 123 124 It seemes this boj is from Jehovah sent, To act a thing that may some courage bring, Both to the people, and unto the king ; It's best that wee incontinent resort. Unto the ting Mm selfe with this report ; Eyes of our king salt fountaines are of greefe. Both for his owne, and other men's releefe. Good newes, O king, Jehovah by his might. Hath found a man who will the gyant fight ; Hee's young it's true, ev'n but a stripling boy. But who can teU but God who doth imploye. Oft weakest meanes, may by his heav'nly might. Through him alone, our foes turne all to flight ; If good it seeme unto your Majesty, Wee unto you will bring him by and by. It's hard to tell, but God who is our Maker, Will send a man to he an undertaker ; If God wee feare, wee shall not wish and want. Wee can not beg the thing God can not graunt, That's for our well ; he hath not marble heart, Lock't, barr'd, against our prayers in our smart : God's for his owne when dangers are most deepe, Hee wakes, when he seemes nodding fast asleepe. Goe quickly and the boy bring to mee heere. That what he saith, I in this place may heare. Cj^e people. Ho ! youth, wee are unto thee quickly sent, Nowe from the king that thou incontinent. Habttt 125 Unto him come ; the foes with great disdains, Laugh at our feares, in jesting at our paine : The hearts of many nowe are filled with sorrowes, Bred greefe hath cruch't* our cheekes with water furrowes, Except that God in mercy scowre us so, That scarlet sins be turn'd as white as sno ; It seemes this day most surely is appointed, That in the same our common wealth disjointed, ShaU lye in dust, as in a tombe or grave. And Isra'l made to Philistines a slave ; If yee once seem'd for us to undertak, Yeo will performe, and wiU not turne the back ; The blushes of your comely face proclame, A shame of guilt, but not k guUt of shame. I9abfti. My wordes are not from fancy or from foly, Like those [who) speake at random at a voleye ; What I have said, I said it in good sadnesse, Lies join'd with bragges are but the fruites of madnesse ; I'le fight the man as I have said before, What I have said, I'le neither lesse nor more, Nowe eate it in ; I wiU make no omission. In what from God I have nowe in commission ; God steeles my heart with courage voide of feare. Of the Colosse which startl'd ev'ry eare, With dread and trembling, causer of great greefe, God wiU this day send Isra'l's men reliefs ; * To be made full as a pitcher. 126 As yee to mee have spoken of this thing, I will with you nowe goe unto the King ; All feare is past, with mercies manifold, God mee sustaines, my heart it waxeth bold : To fight for him it constantly insists, Beames of his love have broken all the mists ; Which at the first did overcloud my skye ; Unto the king I'le nowe goe by and by. ^anl. I see the stripling comming to me hither, And with him of the people are together. Alas ! faire boy, thy enemie's too tall. For thee to fight him ; Oh ! thy limbs are small : Thou hast good heart, but wee have neede of more. More strength then thine to catch so wilde a Boare. I9ab(ti. Let not such things now code your courage so, Knowe this, king, my heart within doth glow, "With great assurance, this my hand shall bring. That monster's head unto my Lord the King : I'm confident, yea free from all alarme, From's sword or speare, or from his brawny arme : Heav'n's horrour surely shall begird him round. Tea, vengeance shall both him and his confound : God playes with men as with the ( Teniae ball). Some he casts downe, and raiseth some that fall ; This man's like mist exhaled by the sunne. Which lasts a space, but quickly is undone. anlf aul. My heart's amaz'd, my mouth is also mute, To see a boy so young, so resolute ; With lively limmes so to the BatteU goe, God steeles his heart with strength against the foe : Sith it is so, goe, and thy Lord thee guide. And thee encompasse round on ev'ry side. Before hee goe, him harnesse aU with speede. Of brasse ane helmet put upon his head : Because the foe will fiercely him assaUe, Let him be armed with a coate of male. iiabCtr. I'le gird this sword upon mine armour bright. That done, I will prepare myself to fight ; I wonder much that I'm in such aray, With golden studs goe glist'ring in this way : For shepheard's coate, a cask* I have put on. With coate of male ; I must nowe walk anone, • Helmet. antf (Stoliai. 129 And try if that with tJtem I well can goe, Then after that I may assault my foe. This worke's in vaine, this armour that's me on, WUl with its weight much weary me anone ; This massive lance and sword doe load me so, That I with them not able am to goe ; I'le not depend upon this heavy loade, I'le cast myself upon th' eternal God, Who in all dangers hath beene my protection, I looke that hee will give me no we direction,' And Steele my strength by his Almighty hand, That by his might I may in BatteU stand : Ofif with this harnesse, I my lance also, With cash and sword will surely cast me fro, I'le have no Bow, no shaft, no arcenal, But from the brooke, five pebbles that are small, Put in my scripe, with sling, thus will I goe. For to encounter this blaspheemous foe. This work is strange, with Philistines I see, A Gyant great whose lookes doe terrifye. Our stoutest Captaines swift to turne the back. When he begins his loome beame lance to shake : On th' other side a slender, tender boy. Goes to the fight as to a feast of joye ; His head is golden, scarlet's on his cheeke. Though full of courage hee's both mild and meeke ; A stripling young upon whose tender chin. The budding downe doth scarcely well begin. iiabitr 130 happy boy ! a worthy Isra'lite, Venge thou God's honour and our shame requite : Goe on, goe on, stirr'd with a holy zeale, And foile this Pagan, and free Israel : Thee I innoble shall, and all thy house, Thou shalt enjoye my daughter for thy spouse. What ? who is this that commeth me unto ? Darre none but this poore boy to Battell goe ? What match is this ? what honour can I have ? In publick fight against a ragged slave, With staff in hand ? as if a dog were I, Hee's arm'd with stones to oast them by and by : Hath Isra'l all no Captaines men of might, With me to grapple in a noble fight ? What shame to them ? what shame also to mee ? That with a heard I should so matched bee ? I by his death can heere no glory gaine. To fight with beards, I greatly doe disdaine : My heart is filled with displeasure deepe, What, shall a Lion fight against a sheepe ? Shall it be said that Great Goliah hath. Spent on a lade, the forces of his wrath ? When I in peeces whoUy have him torne. My victory, will bee to all a scome ; That I thus armed with a coate of male, A naked shepheard fiercely did assaile ; As if ane Eagle should assault a flee, Thus men will say when they our fight shall see ; antt (ffifoUaJ. 131 No, not, I will my hands not nowe defile, Thus with the blood of one that is so vile ; rie sheath my sword before this noble hoast. As for this heard I will him roughly boast ; Him I'le affright with wordes that so this day, In panick feare hee hence may flee away. foolish boy ! fantastick in thy mind. What dreames thou heere upon this field to find ? Goe seeke thy match, I will not nowe defile, My fauchin bright in blood, so base, so vile : I doe disdaine that thou should'st die by mee, Thy honour shall not my dishonour bee ; This is thy mind as I doe understand. That thou should'st fall by great Goliah's hand, And so get credit ; but I doe disdaine. That it bee said, Goliah nowe hath slaine, A naked beggar, as is in the land, Arm'd but with stones, and staffe within his hand ; Goe get thee hence, or else I shall this day. Thee whipe with roddes and send thee so away. Am I a dog ? thou dwarf, thou Dandiprat ? Shall I with stones by thee be hacked at ? Let one mee fight {sith one nowe fight mee must), Who hath before beene in the sweetie dust, Train 'd up in warre, who hath receiv'd and giv'n. Most bloody blowes at Morne and als at Ev'n ; But as for thee, to bicker thou dost come, As though with stones thou could'st me ov'rcome ; Thou shepheard boy know'st not the woundes and scarres, The glorious markes of souldiers train 'd in warres : Such should be scourged with the sharpest roddes, 132 I scorn to fight at so unsightly oddes, As with a shepheard to the Duell goe, I nowe myselfe will not disparage so. But if so bee that thou wilt persevere, And in the presence of all Isra'I heere, Mee still provoke, sure I will not thee spare, But will thy flesh give to the fowles of aire, And to the beastes that are upon the field : It's best in time that unto mee thou yeelde, Before that thou be scourged with my roddes, Now cursed bee thou, ev'n by all my Gods. I3ab(li The curse is thine, and doth belong to thee. Ere it be long this trueth the hoast shall see : Come barking curre who fiercely nowe [doth curse,) Who hath blaspheem'd the God of heav'n and us ; Thou comm'st to me, both with a sword, and speare, And with a shield, thus arm'd thou drawest neere, But in God's Name I come nowe by and by, Ev'n Isra'l's God whom thou dost still defye : This day the Lord as I doe understand. Shall surely thee deliver to my hand, And by mee thou this day© shall smitten bee, And I also wiU take thy head from thee ; The carkeses of Philistines this daye. To fowles of aire, and to wilde beastes away, I will them give, that all the {earth) may tell, That there a God is ev'n in Israel, And all th' assembly that is nowe in feare. Shall knowe that God, by neither sword nor speare, nnV (SiaUaff. 133 Doth save his people ; ther's no neede of swords. For that this daye the Battell is the Lord's, And hee nowe will you give into our hands, And make us have dominion ov'r your lands : I feare thee not though from thy goggle eyes, All drunke with rage the fierce {bright) light'ning flies : Thou proudly marchest with a haughty pass, Death and destruction muster in thy face ; Thus madde, thou marchest with despightfull wordes, Afreshe blaspheeming GOD the Lord of Lords : Ere it bee long thy head I ofif shall cut, So shall thy mouth bee unto silence put, That it no more blaspheeme the God of heav'n, To doe this worke, nnto mee it is giv'n. I thought to spare this Pigmee base, yea nought, Peece of a man who foolishly hath sought. To grapple with one that is not his .match ; A warriour strong who can him quickly catch, And rent in peeces as a Hawke, a Dove, If 'gainst him hee his strength could once improve. But sith it's so that you vdll not forbeare, March on ; thy match he is the King of Feare : ( Your God) commands his ark, but I the earthe, I challenge him, see if hee darre come foorth. Habitr. Now time it is that I for God my King, Take from my scripe a stone within my sling ; IBabtti 134 To throw against this most blaspheemous head ; Thus to avenge, I quickly will make speede. Lord my Ood, while as I whirle this sling, Be bow, and bowman of this shaft I fling ; With sudden flerk the hempe I'le nowe let goe. The hmnming flint him gives a deadly bio. Upon the front, so that hee falls to ground, Ev'n all along, hee needes no other wound ; I have no weapon, but I wUl with speede, With his owne sword cut off this monster's head ; That I GOD'S praises highly may proclame, This head I'le carry to Jerusalem. ^aul. This fight it seem'd, as when in summer ev'r, A GaUey and Carague* doe cope together ; The one strikes quicke, the other veres as slowe, Lar-board and Star-board from the poop to prow, Thence on the wind ; .and by her oares the other, Goe to and fro, and whiles doe choake together : The little boy about the gyant, light. Both forward, backward, to the left and right ; Both in and out hee step't, hee stop't, hee stretch'd. And whiles recoU'd, whiles forward als he reach'd ; Hee stoutly active did him selfe adventure, Against this gyant in a fierce renconter. * Tbe allusion appears to be to a trial of nautical skill betireen the GaUey managed with oars, and the Caraek or large Portuguese ship with sails. Both would be familiar to our Author while he resided in France at Saumur, situated on the Loire. 135 Behold hee comes unto us nowe with speeds, And in his hand he beares the monster's head. €bt MvatUttS. Good newes King ; this day, hath happy houres, The monster's dead, the victory is ours ; This was a Duell worthy to be seene, The like whereof not hitherto hath beene. While wee beheld, how th' one, by force and might. Came forward, and the other by his slight ; Most nimhly prans'd, it seemed so and so. As when two cocks unto the Battell goe : While they in cock pit are set downe to fight, With cristed plumes they fiercely other smite. With spurs and beck they bound at ev'ry bio, With newe assaults they with great fury goe : None to another yieldeth in his wrath. The plea not ends but by the stroake of death ; Now glade wee see victorious David come. On whom wee wager'd all our fortune's summe. Hee comes, hee comes up to our hoast with speede. And in his hand he hath the bloody head ; This victory it seemeth like a dreame, That beastly head it will no more blaspheeme. Nowe welcome David who that bloody traine. Disgraced hast, that with us may remaine, The victory, the victory I say, By God and Thee wee victors are the day, I9abitr 136 Against that curre, who barked Morne and Ev'n, Spew'd blaspheemies against the God of heav'n. Pab(B. No feare of man could make this gyant quaile, Not I but God this day did him assaile ; God now the tumour of his sullen heart, Hath low brought, and {hath) made that mouth to smart. Whose tongue was nimble still for to blaspheeme. And to revUe the great Jehovah's Name : Let God bee prais'd, let him have aU the glory ; Let age to age record this worthy story ; Unworthy they new benefites doe get, Who what is got incontinent forget. Our memory is like a seave, alas ! Grosse thinges it keepes, but lets the pm'er passe : That God's praises (/) highly may proclame, This head I'le carry to Jerusalem. THE USE. Seere Learne how God, who is Omnipotent, Hath great deliv'rance by a shepheard sent. Against a Gyant,* who in boistWous stile, Both God and Israel foully did revile : • Various opinions are held by critics in respect to Goliath. His " ma; cubita and a span " of stature, are estimated at nine feet nine inches ; by others, at ten feet seven inches and a half, and upon a mode of measurement, between the cubit and the palm, at eleven feet ten inches. The probability is, that the first mentioned height is nearest to the truth, sufficient to make him a very formidable opponent."^ His coat of mail is supposed to have been formed of plates aiitr (&oliiii. 137 Men may heere learne not for to trust in strength, Who/eare the Lord they shall prevaile at length. Men (for) a space, pace (in) prosperity, But at the last trot hard in misery: Some times they lagge; and whiles they gallop on, But at the last their glory all is gone, And turnd to stinhe, ev'n like a candle's snuff; Thus lye they low who did most proudly puff; Swolne high with wind as none were men but they, Loe ! like a cobweb they are swept away. I see that Israel for a little while, May sadly droope, but after they doe smile : God's helpe (send us), yea, hee will help anone. His people sad when all seemes to be gone ; of brass overlapping each other like the scales of a fish or tiles of a house, the weight of which was one hundred and fifty^six pounds four ounces avoirdupois. His target of brass, some think was a covering for the shoulders, others that it was a javelin or dart, or lance, or club, or sword. The *^ staff of his spear like a weaver s beam,'* was perhaps not so thick as that beam we see used by the artisan in his loom, but may have equalled it in length. It is computed that the whole armour with which Goliath was clad, amounted to the weight of two hundred and seventy-tioo pounds thirteen ounces. The sling, both among the Greeks and Hebrews, was a powerful offensive instrument of war. It is described as composed of two strings and a leathern strap — the strap is in the middle, and is the place where the stone or bullet lies. The string on the right end of the strap is firmly fastened to the hand ; that on the left is held between the thumb and middle joint of the fore 6nger. It is then whirled two or three times round the head, and when discharged, the finger and thumb let go their hold of the left end string. The velocity and force of the sling are in proportion to the distance of the strap, where the bullet lies from the shoulder joint. David was evidently an expert marksman, and had likely acquired his dexterity at slinging when tending his sheep. 138 Though clouds grow black and darken'd bee our heav'n, A gloomy daye brings oft a glorious ev'n : For Great Jehovah that is the most hye. Doth still command the cisternes of the skye, And what's {helowe) ; heere wee may comforts find, Which {may yet) sweetely ease our tortur'd mind ; Though Ood delaye, the wicked for their crime, Shall pay sufficient int'rest for the time ; Hee'le act his part when that his time is come. And make a boy in battell overcome, A gyant tall, who darr'd him to his face, God seemes oft slow while hee doth goe apace ; Hee spares while as the faults of men are young. Within their heart, but when unto their tongue They come, and foorth breake into blaspheemy. Then heav'n it heares, and mercy doth deny. To skulking rebels ; thus to right our wrongs, God turnes our mourning into joy full songs ; Hee fights our battells ; Oh ! our thoughts are lame. And crazed alas ! when wee should praise his Name. Nowe bless'd be God who did (so) bring to passe, That this beast's blood did purple ov'r the grasse ; And free'd his people from those miseries. Which made them mourne with sad and show'ring eyes. jf^iniu. ^? 140 The Speakers. 1. Dinah, 2. Shechem. 3. Simeon. 4. Levi. 5. Hamor. 6. 7%e Shechemites. 7. Jacob. My mother Leah is farre out of sight ;* Sith it is so, no thing doth me affright ; Therefore this day I'le take my libertie, I will goe foorth anone that I may see, The fashions of the daughters of the land, Shall I be heere and no thing understand ? How women young them selves decke and adorne ? Who see no thing but hence are made a scorne ; Shall I in house as owles inclosed be. While maids abrod bath in felicitie ? Shall I thus as in gyves be still inchain'd, From being seene from seeing als restrain'd ? * Geneeis chap, xxxiv. 142 I feare no snares, abrod I'le quickly goe, That I may see, and may be seene also, With other maids ; O how those maids excell, Who of sweete musk and costly amber smell ? Free in all places passing to and fro, In sight of others mincing as they goe. O pleasant fields, ov'rspread most sumptuously, Inamel'd all with flow'ry tapistry ; * Where birds melodious on the branches greene. Their notes renew at Morne and als at Ev'n ; Where musick sweete mine eares doe always fill. Where on the branches fruits doe dangle still. But as I think, I doe most clearely see, A gallant youth straight comming unto me : I'm farre from home heere on the open field, / tremble, no thing can me comforte yeelde ; No counterbane against this feare I have, My friends are farre, I see none mee to save : If that this youth be for his pleasure set, I see no waye for to escape his net. Fair maide, sweete flowre most pleasant to the eye, My hearte is glade that I have met with thee, Thou pleasant art, thy eyes doe shine most bright, Like glist'ring starres which cleare the darkest night : To see your skin it is a great delite, For surely it's like Alabaster white ; Gold spangles which upon your tresses dangle. Give luster to your lookes, which so mee tangle, That love and lust have such effects in mee, That I must now enjoye thy companie. Fy, Oh, not so, from vilenesse such refraine. That sinne is base, I pray you it disdaine ; Ane honest heart can hardly this endure. For fiery lust to make a Maide a whoore. The -whirl'ing streames of rivers men may stay, But burning lust can suffer no delay ; My heart almost ev'n dead within me lyes. Such trickling flames of Love mee doe surprise : Bee not afraide, thou not my whoore shall bee, I give my trueth that I will marry thee. Fy, Oh not so, commit not such a sin. Our mariage, Oh ! wee must not so begin : Fy, stand aloofe, refraine yourselfe a little, Drowne not your reason in foule pleasure brittle ; To force a maide, it sure will blot your name. It wiU at last, turne to your scath and shame. I'm all in fire while I behold, alas ! The lovely traits of a bewitching face ; Two sparkling eyes all glist'ring like a starre, Two rudy lips most like the crimson are, 143 144 Two cheekes most pleasant, partly white I see, And partly red, they with vermillion bee So mixed, that such beauties nowe apart, Upon this field doth ravish all my heart. Thou art my hearte, yea, ev'n my greatest joye, I can not cease, but I must thee enjoye. Fy ! fy ! will thou thus to thy lust nowe yeelde, As for to force a maide in open fielde ? Fy, fy ! Oh fy ! for evermore, fy, fy ! In open field I can no thing but cry ; But Oh, alas ! nowe none at all is neere, In all this field my dooleful cryes to heare. Both greefe and shame, alas! distresse me so. And freeze my sense, that whither for to goe, I know not ; Oh, alas ! what dismall lot ? Is fall'n on me that with such filthy blot, I stained am ; I suffer such disgrace. That hence foorth I can not lift up my face. Be not so grooved, deare to me as my heart, My Love from thee shall hence foorth not depart ; What I have said, I shall most surely keepe, rie marry thee, but Oh ! so cease to weepe : Wrecke not your wrath upon yourself, alas ! Though yee find shame, yet mine is the trespasse : If I of Jacob shall obtaine my sute, I shall this thorne. soone pull out of your foot ; 6» ^!)Ct|&em. 145 I wager darre your brethren shall be glade, When I perform the thing that I have said. Strange whisp'ring I heare, which doth my heart thrill, Of Daughter Dinah, yea I heare it still ; But I resolve it alwayes.to conceale. And not at all to others it reveale ; Till that my sonnes come from the field to mee, Then what is best wee shall advise and see : My sonnes I knowe will by the tresses snatch, The fittest time this matter to dispatch ; I'le strive the purpose so farre to relate, That my children be not (so) wroth thereat ; In such a hast, that hearing of the ill. They be not mov'd the blood of man to spill : For this trespasse I very greeved am. Mine ages sorrowe, and my houses shame. My children deare, to me reported is, That Shechem hath to Dinah done amiss : In open field the Damosell he found. And her defil'd, this greatly doth me wound: Yet for this all, abstaine from moody hate. Be not incens'd, nor sudden passionate : Who foolish doe good counsel! still reject. With cast downs browes looke, and with sterne aspect. Bimton. Deare father thine, for to contented bee. What's to be done wee shall nowe shortly see ; n 146 Have yee but patience for a little space. We iTope to make you free of all disgrace ; Be not so pensive, hence foorth study nought. But for to curb and bridle stiU your thought ; I hope to see that Dog, and Dandiprat, To be with stones most fiercely pelted at ; A foolish Baboone without face or grace, Though he in Shechem have the second place, I'le put him to't, before the play be plaide, / will not bragge, I'le doe as I have said, Maugre the forces ev'n of Shechem all ; Nowe wy te them selves if any ill befall. Of wrath in mee the swelling surges rage, The storm so great no thing can it asswage : My heart with greefe is choaked ever still, A thousand darts my wounded breast doe thrill, I'le take no rest till all be throughly try'd. Such surly stormes I hardly can abide. Is this the forme that men to lust so yeelde. As to defiore a DamseU in the field ? Are men so giddy that they can not shunne, To act their lusts on fields before the sunne ? But I keeps silent murmures in my heart. If we have shame, for it shall Shechem smart : His filthy sinne which passed hath all measure, Shall not be met with scant weight of displeasure. My heart (it) akes, the thoughts of such ane ill. It with great greefes and thousand cares doth thrill : 147 Such wrath would breake a heart that is most whole, It to abide were for to gains the goale ; But why am I so sullen and so sade, I in his bloode resolve to bath my blade. Most worthy Jacob tiU the whirling poles, Shall cease their galliard (dance, on earth men's soules) Are set on ill ; my Shechem'heere alas. Hath to your daughter done a great disgrace : But I am come this nowe for to declare, That what's amisse hee shall it nowe repaire. Tee sonnes of Jacob, I of you require. That yee would not deny mee my desire : My Shechem's soule dotji unto Dinah cleave, I seeke that yee to him for wife her give : Wee hope wee shall be hence foorth friends together, And mutuaU mariage make one with another ; And yee with us shall dwell, and als the land, Shall be before you all at your command : Yee als shall trade as yee shall thinke it best. And get therein possessions for your rest. Deare Jacob this is my most earn'st desire, Of you his sonnes the same I doe require : In all your eyes let me nowe favour find. And what yee seeke to give, (it) will mee bind ; Both giftes and dowrie aske yee nowe from mee, As yee shall say I'le give 't accordinglie : 148 The only thing from you I doe require, It is the Damsell, her I doe desire ; With her I wish that I may leade my life, Graunt unto mee that she shall bee my wife : Let not your wrath be like the thunder claps. Which thrUl through Forrests with their loudest raps, And breake the cedars which are turn'd to ashes, By violence of most fierce and fierie flashes. I willingly unto you doe submit, I will performe what ev'r yee shall think fit : When wrath doth swell, it's like the rageing sea, Whose tumbling billowes bath the rocks so hie. With froathy mounts, untill that by and by. The tossed ship from Hells goes to the skye. Though Dinah I already have enjoy'd. Mine ardent love therefore it is not cloy'd ; Her for to mary is my cheefe desire. Her for my wife I of you all require: In ev'ry thing the greatest quarrell ends, When the offender strives to make amends. Sfnuon. To such as that uncircumcised be. Our sister wee can not assuredlie. Give to be wife ; for to give her to such, It to us all should be a vile reproach : But in this wee unto you will consent. If yee as wee wiU be incontinent ; That ev'ry male so circumcised be, Then well fulfiU'd this bargaine yee shall see : 149 But if yee will not, then will wee anoue, Ev'n take our daughter, and will so be gone. But Levi, hark, I give them pleasant wordes. But for that whooredome shall be glist'ring swordes, Drench'd in their blood ; wee for a little space. Will hide our wrath conceiv'd for such disgrace ; Wrath small at first increaseth more and more, As rivers small at first, ov'rflowe the shoare Downe neare the sea ; a sparkle of a flamme, A city aU will at the last inflamme : Ev'n (as) a stone that midst a pond you fling, About his fall first formes a little ring. Wherein new circles one in other groweing. Through smoothest waters in their channeU floweing, Still ov'r the other more and more compeU, From the pond's centre, where the stone first fell ; Till at the last the largest of the Rounds, From side to side 'gainst ev'ry bank rebounds ; So is 't of wrath, which like a purling streame At first, at last a floode most fierce doth seeme ; So what at first seem'd to be very small. With swelling waves ov'rflowes the bankes and all. That they deserve for their most filthy love. Your counsel! will I with my heart approve ; In that exploit I will your second bee. And with my sword fast girded by my thigh. Will take revenge {though now J seeme most mild). Upon him who our sister hath defil'd. 150 But this to them wee must not nowe reveale, If wee be stout I hope all shall goe well. But Simeon, harke, now counterfeit a smile, What strength can not, wee worke must with a wile : Speak faire to them that they in peace depart. Let us conceaJe what's in our greeved heart. Bimton. Most worthy Hamor, yee have heard of mee, How that yee all must circumcised be ; If this you please wee gladly doe accord. To give you Dinah, as wee said the worde : Yee're not like birds which downie feather'd, young, StiU feare to flie before their quils be strong : Ye are of age, and understanding have. See if yee will graunt what wee from yee crave. What yee have said I gladly doe approve, So Shechem doth, who doth your sister love ; I hope that shortly yee contented shall. See circumcis'd mee, and my people all. With them each one nowe at this time I mind. To deale "so, that contentment yee shall find. Simeon. Doe as yee say, for so wee think it best, When that is done, your mind will be at rest. Ho ! brother Levi : Hamor's gone away, Ere it be long wee'le make of them a prey : Shall we our sister mari'd with him see ? A nest of harlots and of theeves they be : It were to us a very small comforte. To match our sister with a mongrell sort ; So should wee be so brutely mix'd that wee, Should of the earth the dregs accounted bee. Eebt. Yee speak the trueth ; our senses cloyed all, Might be esteem 'd, if we so courage small. Should have, as to debase ourselves to match. With such a race ; wee at the last shall catch. What's in their house to be for us a prey, A ransom deare they shall for Dinah pay : Away with them, away with them my brother. They are like frogs that croak in Mud together ; With Shechem wee'le our sister not enstile, A filthy villaine who her did defile. For which with shame he meriteth the whip. My heart of wrath the flashes belcheth up. fgatnor. Ho ! Shechem, nowe let us to Shalem (goe) And wisely speake the citizens unto. Ho ! men of Shalem hearken unto mee. And I great gaine will clearely let you see. Those men with us are peaceable alway, Let in the land them therefore wijh us stay. And therein gladely trade in any charge, For loe, the land for them and us is large ; 151 152 Let us for wives their daughters to us take, And with our daughters let them mariage make : But unto this they never wiU agree, UntiU our males all circumcised be. Let this be done, stand not for dayes or houres, For by this means their substance shall be ours : Doe this, let us consent unto them well. And they'le agree anone with us to dwell : Wee'le silver get and gold, and further more. Their CatteU which they have in a great store : I may well say the Bargaine is not foule, Yee all may smile, but none hath cause to scowle. Men giddy brain'd are turn'd with ev'ry wind. But when men reason in a matter find. They may well doe or not doe as seemes good. Who thinke not so are reasonlesse and rude. Our hearts for joye within our breastes doe leape. Their Downes are all cloth 'd with the lusty sheepe, They're rich, yea they in all things doe abound, Wee're glade wee have such guests upon our ground. Let us make haste and doe all speedUie, Let all the city circumcised he. Our circumcision though wee some what suffer. Shall be a keye to open well their coffer. While wee are cut, what a blood runs out. But to endure the same wee must be stout ; A newe made wounde half healed is, they say. But is most sore when come is the third day ; This now wee feele, ourselves we hardly turne, Upon our beds, wee all doe grone and mourne, Wee rewe our bargaine. Oh, alas ! yet but, A thin forskin is with a razour cut. Though wee be sicke, wee will be whole agair^e, Men say right well, that gaine still easeth paine. ^imton. A heart couragious never breathed jcant, I hope wee shall not both make warre, and want ; Wee easily our foes nowe all may foile. When that is done wee'le load ourselves with spoile. Up Levi, up ! nowe fitting is the time. That with bur swordes wee nowe revenge the crime. Of Shechem vUe, who Dinah did deflore, Nowe shall hee die, and for him many more. Fy, strike, stab, cut, deare Levi, and bee bold, All grace forget, spare neither young nor old ; Nowe those are slaine, anone come hither neere. Their men aU faint, let us our courage cheere : Bee busy Lades, behold this happy time. Shall make amends for that most filthy crime, Of Shechem vUe, anone upon our crest. The Garland of the victory shall rest : The way to virtue heere lyes smooth and plaine, Wee honour heere shall get, and also gaine ; They faint, they faile, already downe they are. Their throats be naked, and their bosoms bare ; Fy, cut the one, and likewise stab the other, Doe as I. doe, deare Levi, prove a brother, X 153 154 For Dinah nowe, who in her misery, In open field deflored shrill did crye, But voide of helpe defiled then she was, This night shall make amends for that trespasse. See Samor heere, his doore it is not shut, Nowe with a fauchin to the teeth him cut ; Another wound give in his rattling gorge, Which may him make the wine {dranhe to) disgorge. Within the cup that is within his hand. Strike and not spare, Lade strike, I you command. Nowe there hee lyes aU sprawling on the ground ; Nowe where is Shechem ? can hee not be found ? Hee surely is the Shechemites among, I will retort at last that filthy wrong, Done unto Dinah in the open field. Who forced was unto his lust to yeelde ; Revenge, Revenge, I surely nowe must have. Upon that villaine and polluted slave. Behold the pultron underneath a bed. Hid like a beast, nowe let his bloode bee shedde ; When Dinah ory'd no mercy hee her gave, (/) to repay no mercy hee shall have ; Hee's but a foole who good occasion (sits), Nowe, nowe, or never, nowe the time us fits. a«bf. Simeon, Simeon, my most worthy brother, Upon this beast let us both strike together ; This barbarous villaine did no mercy show. To Dinah ; nowe let us in pieces hewe. 6» ^itciitm. His head, and shoulders, that done, yet als more, His very heart we shall together gore ; When Dinah cry'd no mercy her hee gave, So to repay no mercy shall hee have : Our bloody blowes assuredly he feeles, Nowe Shechem's gone, he tath laid up his heeles : The other lades have made with courage good, A mount of bodies, and a lake of blood. Simeon. It's so that men fuU both of faith and zeale. Should curb such faults done 'gainst a common weale ; Men should raise virtue, and raze quickly vice. Without respect of person or of price, It needfuU is that from among aU men, The wicked in each place be weeded cleane. Alas, my Sonnes, yee filled have with feare, My trembling heart, I see a judgement neere : Your stirly pride and hasty nature still, Giv'n to revenge with utmost forward will. Have many a night made me to want my sleepe, And nowe what's done it makes my heart to weepe. Thou Simeon fierce hast still in ev'ry part. Brought unto me great woe, and greefe of heart : And Levi thou as ill as any other. With Simeon thou in iU, art als a brother ; Yee have me troubl'd for to make me stinke, Amongst the men of all the land who think, 155 156 That to this murder I have egg'd you on ; So Cananites* and Perizites anone. Them selves shall gather in a fearfuU shewe, 'Gainst me who am but in a number fewe ; Thus steme and fierce (nowe ended is myjoye), Mee and my house and aU they shall destroy ; A sleep© by night our lesser cares will hush, But who can rest when such great greefe doth gush ; Such wickednesse doth make my heart to weepe, I see not what will luU such wrath asleepe. Simeon. For such a fault that was both vUe and rude, A physick onely made of drugs of blood, Was fittest nowe ; some faults ev'n by a worde Are fully cured, others by the sword. * It is thought that Jacob had now been seven to eight years a dweller in Canaan among the Shechemites ; and that Dinah was fourteen or fifteen years of age when this sanguinary transaction occurred, which Chronologists date B. C. 1738, or 3593 years ago — 985 years before the foundation of Borne, when the stratagem was adopted by the Bomans of seizing by violence the Sabine women to people the City > and 83] years before 'the age of Homer, who celebrated the rape of Helen and the consequent war of Troy in his " Heroicks." The Pa- triarch Jacob lamented on his death bed in the most pathetic manner the melancholy event which had taken place in his family. " Simeon and Levi are brethren ; instruments of cruelty are in their habitations. O my soul, come not thou into their secret, unto their assembly mine honour, be not thou-united ; for in their anger they slew a man, and in their selfwill they digged down a wall ; Cursed be their anger for it was fierce, and their wrath for it was cruel ; I will divide them in Jacob, and scatter them in Israel." The concluding part, seemingly uttered as a prediction, is said by the Jewish historians to have been subsequently literally fulfilledjn respect to the two tribes. 6fi Bittitm. Should he thus trouble all our common weale, And with our sister as ane Harlot deale ? THE USE. Let women learne by Dinah's sorrowes sad, To sit at home, and not ahrod to gade: While they are pranked as the gawdy flow' res. Spending on decking many precious houres. To goe ahrod; in wand'ring from their place, They-ready will he snared in disgrace. By Shechem learne that lustfull filthinesse, Hath many a one brought into sad distresse. Fierce Simeon als and Levi as you see. Should not he followed in their crueltie. Let children shunne to doe, or yet to thinhe. That which may make their parents' names to stinke; Let us beware of vices such as those. For in our selves ambush our greatest foes. 157 ifines.