A Most true Relation of a very dreadful Earthquake, with the Lamentable effects thereof, Which began upon the 8. of DECEMBER 1612. and yet continueth most fearful in Munster in Germany.  
READ AND TREMBLE.  
Translated out of Dutch by Charles Demetrius, Public Notary in London. And Printed at Rotterdame in Holland, at the Sign of the White grayhound.   depiction of comet sighting  


A MOST TRUE Relation of a very dreadful Earthquake, with the lamentable effects thereof, which began upon the eight of December this present year 1612. and yet continueth most fearful in Munster in Germany.  
HOw happy was Adam (our Father) to have the world (than unspotted) his Kingdom, Paradise his Palace, all creatures upon Earth his Subjects, God himself his Protector, good Angels his councillors, Sun, Moon and Stars his Books of contemplation, and Eden his Garden of plenty and pleasure, where he had all things that were good, and was in danger of nothing that was evil. But how wretched was he for disobeying his Creator's commandment, to lose all this happiness, and in that Treason of his to condemn all his posterity? How miserable are the Sons become by the Father's fall? How blessed had they been, if he had stood? For reckon up their losses: the World that should have been their Paradise is now their Prison. Man's protector (God) hath given him over: Angels (that then were his equals) are now far above him, All creatures that were his Subjects, rebel at their Lord and Master▪ a little Bee dares sting him, the smallest Gnat is ready to choke him: The earth brings forth briars and Brambles to scratch him, poisons to kill him, Serpents to devour him, yea the heavens themselves empty their full Quivers of dreadful vengeance, shooting tempests of Hail, Ice, snow, Waters, Winds, Thunder and Lightning, upon his miserable and sinful head. That which hath a Sun placed in it to give him heat, food and life, powers upon him her Viols of wrath: That which was made firm for his footing, and to bear up Kingdoms, Cities, and all the creatures in the World, now shakes, and opens her entrails to swallow him in that womb, where first he was begotten.  
Shall I draw before your eyes a lively Picture, to make you see these things? Alack! we write our passed punishments upon the breast of Time, and when his back is turned, it is like children's books clasped up, we forget what lessons we read there. We are all like Zenophantus, that could do nothing but laugh: yea, our escaped miseries are but our mockeries; for (as dull beasts do) we feel stripes to day, but forget the smarting to morrow; growing fat with afflictions as Asses do with blows, and the more beaten, the harder our hearts are, like iron, lying under the hammer.  
Since than we never fear Ship wrack, but when we see our Vessels ready to Split upon Rocks, and that we think never to fall, but when the Axe is laid to the root; Since no rod can terrify but what is presently held over us; O ye Worldlings, (unless your bosoms be as cold as your Charity is) I shall melt you all into Water, and startle your Souls out of their deadly slumbers, unless they be as dull and heavy as your sins are, by rattling in your ears the Thunder of Divine vengeance, whose noise doth now at this very instant terrify us your disconsolate Neighbours.   

The Earthquake in Munster, with other fearful Prodigies seen in the Air.  
MVnster is a City, situate in Westphalia, a part of the lower Germany: It stands upon a hill, favoured by Heaven for sweet and wholesome air, and wanting nothing which the Provinces, adjoining to it, do plentifully enjoy. It is rich in people, and the people rich in pleasures, and therefore in sin, no winds being able to weigh down the full ears of their pride, but the breath of his nostrils which can make Princes to bow beneath his foot stool.  
In this City (swelling with the abundance which her own womb bears and brings forth:) when her head lay in the soft lap of ease, when Peace sat at her Gates, Freedom walked in her Streets, and when security laid all the Inhabitants upon their wanton Pillows. Behold, the Revealer and Revenger of all close and hidden impiety suddenly snatched out his Sword, and (smiting at them) made their loftiest Pinnacles to tremble. For upon the eight day of December (now last) a universal Earthquake shook the deepest foundations of the strongest buildings; Churches and Steeples reeled in the Air like Ships (in storms) beaten upon the Waves, and in a moment, their highest Battlements came tumbling to the Earth. Towers of Flint & Marble cannot resist this battery. The wrath of ten thousand Canons cannot confound so quickly, for whole streets of Houses stand tottering▪ and whole streets of Houses fall. Safety hath no Walls to dwell in, no corner to fly to. Men, Women and Children are with the terror thrown to the Earth, and as there they lie, their own Buildings fall on them, and grind them into dust. If any have so much heart left, as to lift up his hands to Heaven, he is presently struck dead by Thunder and Lightning, which rage with such terrible fury, over all the poor desolately ruined City▪ As if GOD in anger had swore to make this an example to other places of his Judgement, as he did his holy City Jerusalem, not to leave one stone standing upon another.  
Armies of fiery clouds thus fight against these wretched people in the Air: thunder frights their souls, and astonisheth their hearing, the ground trembles under them, and because every Sense should be punished, according to his offences, the eye that once scorned to look up so high as heaven, is now forced full of tears, from thence to beg one drop of mercy, but in stead of that, it beholdeth a blazing & direful Comet: The Stars that are the glorious Scutcheons of the Creator, and stuck as candles in heaven to light man in the night, because he should work no wickedness in darkness, are now changed into prodigious, dreadful, and fiery Meteors. They are out of that celestial order which the Great General above placed them in: And like a Kingdom in civil uproars threaten nothing but plagues, mischief to the world and confusion. Misery is ever borne with a twin. These prodigies come not alone, but other strange and horrid apparitions fly up and down the Air: No time being free, as if night and day contended together, which of them should afflict and insult over a wretched downe-trodden City, with sharpest tyranny: For the Earthquake, with Thunder and lightning doth twice every day (at distinct times) shake, disjoint, and beat to the ground the houses, and kill the people, and when night should lend them rest to their calamities, they are kept waking by these second alarms in the Element. Not far from Munster standeth a Castle called Bileuelt, strongly built upon a mighty rock, and this Fort (for all it seemed to be impregnable) hath been shaken by the battery of this Earthquake, and such a breach made into the very Rock itself, that the Castle is sunk beneath his settled and first foundation more than the depth of two men's height: That which remaineth undevoured in this stony and craggy Gulf, above ground, ●eeling, waving, and tottering too and fro, as easily (when the blow is given) as you see standing corn shaken by some mighty wind. Thus the poor people live in this city, thus they perish: but leaving them a while.  
Into whose bosom shall I pour the river of my tears? Into my countries? she is overwhelmed already in the torrent of her own sorrows: Shall I sigh my lamentations up into Air? She is frighted with the unusual prodigies which the wrath of her Maker sticks upon her beauty: will men hear me? Sin hardens their hearts, and they are more senseless than Rocks: to the Rocks, Mountains, and Hills than breathe I out my Tragical condolements: Alas, they tremble too, as ready to feel the general dissolution: Let me open therefore the mangled book of thy Ruins only (O thou my inexpressibly dilacerated country) because in these leaves are written the blotted Stories of thy downfall.  
Why art thou (above all thy fellows) marked out and drawn to the slaughter? Is it because thy iniquities exceed the rest, as thy punishments do? Or is it because God is but angry as a father, (chastising any one that is next his hand) not in a particular quarrel to that one, but to make these stripes given to him, startle all the rest, and so to keep them in fear of correction. Or shall I let fly none of these arrows but shooting at Rovers in another bow, shall I with the Naturalist & searcher of secrets, conclude that these Earth fravers have their shake from the ordinary distemperature of Winds, stealing into the bowels of the earth, and there (with rambling, tossing & straggling to acquire vent & passage) they open that Caverns of the massy foundation, and so tumble down all weighty matter that compresseth their violence? Shall these Crutches serve for my belief to lean upon? No, let the Lame & halting Heathen (that never trod in the right path of his Creation) hold up his knowledge by that weak staff. Let him suppose that the wheels of this great Universe are set a going by the subtle workmanship of Nature, & that their motions shall grow flow, and weaken according as she herself waxeth old and decaying.  
But if I (that am a Christian) can read that there is a God (who controls Nature,) a God that made the Sun to shine by day, a Moon by night, with Stars in the firmament not so much to beautify that Roof, as to serve the use of man. And that those officers of light, (those celestial torchbearers) are appointed to keep a decent, settled & unchangeable orderly course, if I can also read that the same Omni-sufficiently-skilfull Engineer, is at all times furnished with Thunder, Lightning & Tempest, (the Artillery of his vengeance:) The natural Philosopher shall pardon me, if I think (and so wish all Christians to be of this opinion) that as in our Earthly or lunary bodies, accidental violent diseases are forerunners of languishing Sickness, or Imminent Death, So when those heavenly bodies are out of tune, distempered, & distracted, they are predictions of some fatal, fearful, & portentous calamities, assuredly threatening some particular Nation, not shot from an ordinary, but a supernatural hand. And I do farther think that if the omnipotent Thunderer could lock up sufficient store of Waters to drown all the world, as by his word (given since) he hath sworn to destroy it with fire, sure it is that his opening of the same Sluices now (which overflow and swallow up our corn fields in their merciless inundations) are but to show us the old whip which he then held in his hands, when first he gave correction, as these tearings of the Element, with fires darted from his lightning upon one especial city, are mere Items to put us in mind of that dreadful last blow, which shall pash the world in pieces in her universal consummation.  
No no, It is an extraordinary Finger, that points out where such Tempests shall fall. The Lord of Hosts hath some great Battle to be fought, and he doth now but levy his forces: The Judge of all Kingdoms is to arraign the sins of some one people, and these are now but the summons sent from his court to warn their appearance. You never shall see these gentle Lashes upon the outward flesh of a few, but be assured they are Flagella Dei, his Rods which he ties up in bundles against some more terrible execution.  
I should here weep mine eyes into Ink, to set down the deplorable condition of my country, if I saw her only tied to the Stake of these afflictions? But is Germany in a flame, and do other Nations stand a loof off, warming their hands by her fires? Not so, Denmark our next neighbour, with France, England, Scotland, Ireland, and many other Maritime Kingdoms, have eaten of this sour Grape as well as Germany: they (as we) sit still on the weather beaten shores, increasing the wrathful Seas with Waters showering from their eyes, for their fresh bleeding and never to be forgotten Irrecuperable losses.  
Awaken therefore (O you seventeen daughters of Belgial) you that are rich in Possessions, glorious in beauty, princely in ornaments, leave listening to the charms of your light and wanton instruments, and let the cries of us your poor Neighbours force you to lift up your eyes to heaven. Think not, though you stand higher than us, that you stand snrer, for the same Arm that hath shook our strong Battlements, can as suddenly crumble yours into dust, your amendment may sue out our general Pardon. Look upon your feet then and blush (for all your gay Feathers) at your deformity. Your ancient and noblest virtues have you turned into Sordid and most ugly abominations, Peace hath made you proud, pride hath made you ambitious, ambition warlike, and War bloody and insolent. Your industry so admired throughout the World, and so commendable at home, is now like a Spider's Loom, curiously wrought but to no good purpose.  
Sloth sits in your gates, and wantonness lies dallying in your chambers: temperance in diet is grown to surfeiting, and those surfeits breed oaths and quarrels. All your good deeds may be engraven within a ring of gold, but your bad-ones stretch beyond all dimension. These are the trees of your glories: but note I pray how the fruits have been blasted. The Spaniard hath marched with swords of fire, upon the hearts of your proudest cities, your marriage-beds have suffered deturpation, and felt the hot lust of strangers, your fairest Froes have been ravished of their honours by the mercenary soldier: yea the Dutch themselves have (like Vipers) eaten out the belly that brought them forth, Inhabitants of cities have made their own cities desolate, and beaten down those walls that should have defended their families: Fathers have murdered sons, sons fathers, and kindred made triumphs at the deflowering of their Nieces. Your goodly streets (O you Belgians) have been turned into Churchyards, and your sumptuous State-Houses into shambles and graves, yet these Drums cannot wake you.  
O would to God therefore (you my countrymen the Dutch Nation,▪ as you are now held valiant & warlike both by seas & land that you had in you less courage, for it is only boldness that makes man wicked. Or would to God that as you have drawn your swords against the bosom of your country, you had likewise unsheathed them against the sins of your country, them happily had not we drunk of this bitter cup of calamities, then happily (which heaven avert) God will not physic you with the same strong potion. But because our falls may make you look to your footing, Behold how your country lies once more bleeding, struck by the same hand of heaven.   

Other fearful Examples, upon some swallowed (in their Cups) within the bowels of the Earth: with other terrible and ashonishing Accidents.  
THE first part of this Germaine-Tragedie is acted, the second (full of Blood and Horror) shall now be plainly showed. It begins with a Marriage, but ends in Murder: Banquets, and full Cups of Wine lay the Cloth, but shrieks and dismal crying take away the Table.  
Know therefore, that in a Town of Germany called Sybellen, a rich young man, (of the age of two and twenty years) called by the name of Antiochus, happened to be married to a Gentleman's Daughter of the same town. The Nuptial being (according to the custom of the Country) orderly celebrated in the Church, home the married couple come, accompanied with kinsfolk, friends, and acquaintance, who are all invited to the solemnisation of so happy a day.  
The knot being now tied, which to Lovers is so welcome, Music is called for, to stir up their blood and youthful Spirits. Dances having wearied them, they all sit down at the Bridall-Table, where Plenty herself could not have invented one dish more to furnish out the feast.  
At the table (after the Dutch fashion) they sit long, and drink hard, and being cloyed with Glasses of Sugar and Rhenish, whose poison goes down smoothly, they fall again to their Lavoltaes: and in this manner do they for three or four days together, renew good cheer, their carousing, and their dancing.  
And (as it commonly happens at such meetings) it being famed abroad that two wealthy persons were married, a number of poor and aged people swarmed about the gates of the Bridehouse: But whether it were the covetousness of the Parents, the pride of the Bridegroom and Bride, or the neglect of Servants, or whether it was Gods will to harden all their hearts, only to show some punishment on such as are uncharitable, to express his detestation of that sin: or else whether he suffered them to drown themselves in Wine, Belly-cheer and Pleasures, of purpose to lay his judgement upon sensual and luxurious Dives, whilst he suffered poor Lazarus to beg crumbs at his Gate▪ yet to have none: but sure it is, that commandment was given, that no meats which came from the Wedding-Table, should not only not be given to the Beggars, but that rather they should be all beaten with cudgels from the gates, which was done accordingly. And so the Beggars being as uncharitable in their prayers, as the other were cold in their alms, went away with hungry Bellies, but their mouths full of curses, which they spitefully spit forth against the House, the Owners, the Bridegroom, Bride, Servants, and Guests.  
But their▪ breath had no power to hurt them, it was God that was to take the quarrel in hand, not for any love to such wicked and licentious idle Caterpillars, against whom he often hardens people's hearts, to punish their abominable living, but to revenge himself upon them, who in their fullness despise those poor members that beg bread in the Name of his Son Jesus Christ. Yet he strikes them not presently, because they should have time given them to bethink themselves, and to remember the needy. But the hearts of them all being frozen up, and pity not enduring in so cold and comfortless a lodging: Behold, all at their plenteous and Epicurean voluptuous tables, fall to drinking, swilling, and carousing deep healths, which swim from lip to lip in oaths, in cursing and in quarrels: the Wine (ordained by God for man's nourishment) washing the ground, the earth being made drunken with her own fruits: and the delicate meats (whose scraps the hungry beggar would have been glad of) were thrown in sinful merriment, in one another's faces, and then spitefully trodden in mockery under their feet.  
At this impiety the fire of God's indignation being kindled, he made the earth to cleave, and to swallow those that devoured the blessings of it: her womb opened like an insatiable Grave, and in the same were they (All) buried alive.  
The terror of this struck them half dead with astonishment that escaped the blow: yet afterwards even they accounted them happy that were so taken away, when they felt the sharpness of those miseries which presently Heaven threw upon them. For suddenly, the Day lost his light, the Sun hid his head, as ashamed, or rather detesting to look upon such wretches: and in stead of his comfortable brightness, a melancholy, pitchy, glutinous, and stinking, misty darkness covered all the place: fearful to behold, and yet the more fearful, because nothing could be seen. And this black Image of Hell and Night stood before them by the space of five days. At whose end (albeit no man thought that God would ever have said once more, Let there be Light) yet the Light appeared: but how? Not to cheer up their afflicted Spirits, but as it did to Adam, to discover both their Sin, their Shame, and a further Punishment. For the Day was only shown to them to vex them the more with sight of so dear a loss, and to make them know how powerful he was that could take it from them.  
And again, to manifest that power, he struck the heavens blind again, and in stead of light to glad them, rained down showers of Fire mixed with Blood. And then to shake the World with belief and fear, that her last and most dismal day was come, an Earthquake (no less dreadful than the former) both increased their miseries▪ and ended them: for God (according to his divine promise and property) being never angry long, was satisfied with this their punishment, and restored unto them that which they were in despair never to have seen, that is to say, light and life.  
Only let not this be unremembered, that as the Land felt the strength of his arm and trembled, so did the waters, for the storm of his wrath powered down itself upon the neighbouring Seas, so that many▪ Ships were utterly cast away, the Goods lost, and the People in them drowned: No Pilot in the World (how skilful soever) being able to overcome a Tempest, when He who once made all this World an Ocean, commands the Waves to execute his displeasure.  
Of which Tragical fury of the Billows this is one memorable and notorious proof, (to be lamented in more words than I set it down in letters) that amongst those numbers of dead carcases which the Sea (as unwilling to bear such unnatural and ignoble Burdens) paid back again upon the Shore, a dead Woman was one, about whose body were found tied (as it seemed in the heat and height of the Tempest) seven Children, she herself being great with the eight.  
Thus have you heard a true report of the Almighty's Anger and his Mercy, his Power both by Sea and Land: let us therefore (whose lives and possessions he might have confiscated in his just indignation, yet hath spared them) fall upon our knees with thanks for his deliverance, and bringing us safe through this Red▪ Sea of troubles, in which (if it had pleased him) we might with the rest have been for ever confounded. For our hearts (made so by our sins) are hardened, (not only one against another, but against him) as much as theirs were, or ever Pharaohs was. Open the Closet of every man's conscience, and you shall find a Book there, all blotted, and written full of impieties, blacker than the ink: yet so marble-breasted are we, that (like fools going laughing to the stocks) we are insensible of our own harms.  
The Vine (untimely cut) weeps away her strength at the wound, but no misery that cuts us (early or late) can make us weep for our sins. Sin and we are as inseparable as treachery is from the Soul of a Turk, or blackness from the cheeks of an Ethiope. We feel the smarting pain of a slight blow, it angers us: nay, the loss of a little blood makes us cry out, and almost stark mad for the fear of approaching death: but if our souls be buffeted, we laugh at it: if they be shattered in pieces, rend, and ruined, we stir not at that: Her ill days we write down in no Calendar, for we think there are not any can hurt her. Swallows would not come within Thebes, because the walls were so often▪ besieged: but wretched man puts on wings to fly to those Cities, which are most shaken with vices. The more rotten the heart of this World's Kingdom is, by feeding on sweet and bewitching pleasures, the more we dote (like fond Lovers) upon it.  
To set down our sins, is as infinite a task as to paint our thoughts: it is a chain reaching down as low beneath us, as the glories of heaven are above us. To set down our sins at full, we had need to study a new Arithmetic: to be as long-liude as the Hart when we sit to do it: to turn the Sea into Ink when we write the Figures: to bind up a Book with as many Leaves as are rend by Autumn: and to have the Sands of the Ocean for Compters, yet all these helps are not able to cast up the Sum. For we are still at difference with God, yet is he loath to fall out with us: we owe him Millions, yet pay him not a Mite: He loves us as the Apple of his Eye, yet we cast his love at our feet: he sings sweet Notes of mercy in our Ears, and they make us presume: he than shakes his Iron Mace of Justice at us, and then we despair. So that his patience and our wickedness, our provocation and his tender-hartednesse, are no more tunable together than Lute-strings of a Wolf and a Lamb, which never agree in Music.  
If then the number of our bad deeds swells to a heap so great, how can we at God's hands but look for as great, and as many punishments? If a debtor owe us money, we look to have all, we spare not him, we vex him, we pluck out his throat for our own: Why should not God (then) handle us so? Yet he reckons seldom, and forgives much: when he sees us wasting the Talents he trusts us with, and too too lavishly consuming them, then, then, we must be sure to pay for all.  
Every man hath by himself an account to make up: every Nation runs in Arerages, yea, the World itself is behind hand with his Lord and Maker. The Audit day is set down in his everlasting Reportary, (known to man that it must come, but known to the King of Heaven only when it shall come:) for when either we (by ourselves) personally, or any Nation particularly, or the world in generally is to be summoned to make his rest even, lies hid in a Book which none can unclasp. All of us therefore had need to be in readiness because the hour is uncertain when he will call.  
How unspeakable then is the Mercy of our Saviour? how indemensive is his bounty? that our offences being as innumerable as the torments of hell, and our least deserving them all, yet he whips us but with silken rods, and gives us fillops when he might dash us in pieces? We are all his flock, and all have gone astray, yet he strikes but one to warn the rest. For the Devil (like the Teumesian Fox) over takes and tears all that he hunts, but he that saved the Prophet in the belly of the great Leviathan of the sea, can and doth deliver us when we are held fast between his paws.  
O my dear Country of Germany, this is not the first warning that thou hast had from Heaven to amend thy wickedness. Many a Trumpet have the Angels from above sounded in thine Ear to awake thee: but seeing thou wilt not listen to the song of the Lark, thou art enforced to hearken to the hoarseness of the Screech-owl. Thou hast longed for the flesh-pots of Egypt, when thou feddest upon Quails and Manna: and that is the cause that thou art worthily afflicted, and compelled in stead of rich Wines, to drink thine own tears: and for thy full banquets, to eat the bread of thine own, and thy children's sorrow. Lest therefore that this thy present calamity be but unto thee as a fearful dream, and lest thou shouldst write this fresh and bleeding misery in water, when it is most fit to be engraven in leaves of Adamant, or rather printed in the palms of thy hands to be ever in thine eyes, I entreat thee to look back upon the woes which thou hast borne in ages past: Remember some sorrows of thy younger days: though the wounds be closed up, yet behold the scars, and in beholding them, weep that thou shouldst so incense Heaven to strike, and yet rejoice that the punishment is so gentle. Amongst many therefore of the rods, with which thou hast been beaten, I will only show thee three, and these are they.  
In the year 1346. (upon the Regal of S. Catharine) the City of Basill, being one of the noblest buildings in Germany, and for the bravery of it called Regnopoli (the Kingly City) was (as Munster is at this present) shaken with an Earthquake: which was so violent, that by force thereof a great part of the Cathedral Church (or Summum Templum) fell down: and a magnificent Palace adjoining to that Temple drowned her loftiest Pinnacles in the River Rhyne, upon which that renowned City stands.  
And again in the year 1356. on the day of S. Luke, another Earthquake did not only shake and search the foundations of all Germany, but (for many times one after another) tossed the foresaid City of Basill, casting down her Towers, Churches, Palaces, and Walls, and murdering in their ruins, above one hundred persons, and with the fall of stones and timber, striking infinite numbers lame. Yet the rage of it was not satisfied thus: for by the shaking in pieces of houses that had fires in them, a lamentable destruction fell upon the whole City: insomuch (the flames being exceeding great, and not able any ways to be quenched) men, women, and children stood afar off, wring their hands, to see their riches, their dowries, and patrimonies swallowed up in flames, which burned day and night, and in their greedy and merciless fury consumed (besides the City of Basill) these places also: viz. Schowenberg, Vuartenberg, Reichenstein, Angenstein, Berenfelss, Pleffingen, Scholberg, Froburg, and many others, as by a Letter sent to Sebastian Munster, (by Bonif: Amerbachius) is to be seen in his description of Germany.  
The same Author sets down likewise, the sad remembrance of a misery which fell in August 1545. upon Mechlyn in Brabant, where God thundered first so terribly on the buildings and the sins of the people, that Mechlyn shook and trembled to her very foundations. That dreadful voice of Thunder being quiet, a darkness followed, with a most horrible stench of Brimstone, more terrifying the Inhabitants than the Thunder did. And that misery being likewise removed from them, as bad or worse succeeded: for the Clouds opening their revenging bosoms, threw down such fearful Lightning, that men expected when the whole frame of Heaven would have melted. And (to increase that terror) the flashes broke into a Tower that was stored with eight hundred Barrels of Gunpowder, which taking fire, blew up a great part of the Tower in a moment: Stones, Timber, and men's quarters flying up into the Air, and many whole carcases found dead the next morning. No Church stood undefaced, no house unruined, no man but undone by it.  
At the same time three men sitting at Cards were struck dead, whilst the woman that went into the Cellar to fetch them drink escaped alive: yet dismayed no doubt, but not so much terrified as he was, who in the heat of those divine punishments, fled and hid himself in a cave by the space of three days: from whence being driven out by Famine (for no force else could have made him adventure to the light) he with faint voice, and trembling joints asked aloud, If the world stood still or not. Thus Munster.  
And thus far having led thee back to look upon thy ancient ruins, I wish thee the full fruit of all those Prayers, which the Country round about, (terrified by thy miseries, and pitying them) do daily pour out in their Churches, commanded thereunto by their Rulers. And with their Prayers do I mingle mine, that it would please God to deliver not only this our Country from his heavy punishments laid upon it for the sins of the people in it: but also that he would call home those angry messengers of his wrath, whose stormy rage hath afflicted England, France, and other neighbouring Nations, to the undoing of thousands, in their goods, and leaving many Widows and fatherless children, by loss of their husband's lives.  
FINIS.