THE WEEPING LADY: OR, LONDON LIKE NINIVEH IN SACKCLOTH. Describing the Map of her own misery, in this time of Her heavy Visitation; with her hearty Prayers, Admonition, and Pious Meditations, as the occasions of them offer themselves in Her PASSION. Written by T. B. Lord, have mercy on us. Weep, Fast, and Pray. Printed at London by B. A. and T. F. for MATHEW RHODES, and are to be sold by Nath: Browne, in the Long Walk, near Christ Church. 1625. THE EPISTLE TO the READER. COurteous Reader, Briefly thus: If looking in my Book, you see Men imprisoned in their own Houses, and abroad none; if here you see a multitude of Crosses, and abroad none; if here their equal number of Bills, with LORD HAVE MERCY UPON US, and abroad none; and shall say, Thus they have been, but are not. I answer, That they Have, is enough, why they are not, I know not; that they yet might be, we all know, in the loss of Husbands, Wives, Children, Servants, Kindred, our Neighbours, and common Acquaintance. A wound smarts no less covered, then discovered: For some decrease in the number, let us praise God, and pray to God, for the continuance of this mercy begun, till this sad Visitation be ended. My intent in erecting this poor Monument of Misery, was, to make this Lady's Tears outlive Her Tears: That, when (by the infinite Mercies of God they shall be wiped off, and all Her Sores made whole; we may▪ in the view of this, and other (more worthy) Remembrances of Her, review them; in them, those infinite Mercies; and in both, be made mindful of them, end eternally thankful for them: Which God grant. Thine; THO: BREWER. Lord, have mercy on us. Weep, Fast, and Pray. TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL, GENErous, and ever-worthy Lover of Goodness, and Pious Endeavours, WALTER LEIGH, Esquire, SWORD-BEARER to the Honourable LORD-MAIORS of this Famous City of LONDON. Right Worthy Sir: A Sad Sharer of the common miseries of these sad times, prompted by his own Sorrows, has, (though too weak a Pencil-Man for such a Piece) undertaken to draw that Sorrow to the Life, that has drawn many thousands to Death; my Title speaks my meaning; The Wounds of this WEEPING LADY. To have drawn Her in her Health, the Idea or Conceptions of the most pure and pregnant Wits might have been deficient, such was Her Beauty, Her Splendour, such were her change of Colours, Glorious within, and without in Embroidered Garments. But now, (such is her Change She has no Change, wearing only one Suit, and that the sad habit of Mourning. In thus presenting Her, I present you with nothing but groans, Sighs, tears, shreaks, folding of arms, bearing of breasts, wring of hands, pale looks, dejected eyes, bleeding hearts, & most heavy & bitter condolements. How unpleasing this might be to many, I am not ignorant; but emboldened by that of the Preacher, The Heart of the Wise is in the House of Mourning, etc. my hopes are fair of her favourable and gracious receiving. To whom better to present this Lady of so many Honourable Lords, then to your worthy Self, I know not; your Worship having been to many, & now to This, Her Last, (equal in fame with any from Her First) a prime and much respected Officer, beating the Sword that most impartially guards Her, and wounds Her Enemies. She is now on the mending hand, and our hope (in Him, that what he will do can do) is strong for the daily decrease of her sorrows; the speedy return to Her solace, and fullness of Beauty and lustre. For which among many Thousands of Her afflicted Sons and Daughters, incessantly praying; I rest, Ever Bound to your Worship's pleasure: T. B. THE WEEPING LADY: OR LONDON LIKE NINIVEH in SACKCLOTH. JERIM. 9.21. Death is come up into our windows, and entered into our Houses. LIke tender Plants, beat, with too great a shower, Or like a Tree that's blasted; or a Flower Plucked from the Root; December's gloomy shade, The Sun eclipsed; Youth to disease betrayed: Or like to any thing, that Chance, or Time Or Heavens just Anger, scourges in the Prime, Disroabing it of Ornament, of Grace, And seating what's opponent in their place Sits now the Mistress, Lady of her kind; That Queen, whose Beauty did attract the mind Of All, to see it; to admire, to love, And (in their Functions serve it) to approve Her worth, and their own duties: o like these, Or sadder Figures, of Her sad disease Lies London now; beat, blasted, withered, shook, Of strangers pitied, of Her own forsook. But, to divide Her sorrows, and to bring, The wounds, sighs, tears, and each particular sting Of Her afflicted Bosom, to your Eye, lives not in my Intention. Nor if I Had such a Will, had I the power to speak My Grief; for Hers (too strong) makes me too weak. Herself do that, for what's in Sorrows breast, The Bearer of it, can decipher best: I only draw the Curtain, and thus show, This Queen of Cities, now, the Queen of woe. London, the Anatomizer, of Her own miseries, as out of a broken slumber thus speaks. HOw sane would Sorrow sleep? But as my Head Would touch the Pillow, of that downy Bed The mournful sound of sigh, of deep groves, Vision of Tears, and universal moans That do present themselves before me, keep That Comfort from me, and command me weep. Her Bells, continually Tolling. O Hear the Instruments, my soul did love, My Bells, that summon to the Spouse, the Dove, The Oracle of Heaven, Now sadly sound Nothing but frightful summons to the ground: Nothing but calls to Death; nothing but Knells; All notes of Grief, for All are passing Bells. Nay more to add, to my Affrights, affright Death, will have all Times, minutes; and by Night Tolling night and day. Command this doleful Tolling, as by Day: We know who sends him, and we must obey. What change there is in all things under Fate? Digression. How sadly now they found? And but of late, When their shrill voices, did proclaim the Gain Of England's Heart, out of the Hate of Spain, What Dulcet sounds they had?— And while they played To th'mounting flame of Bonfires, that were made The King his return from Spain joying His safe Arriving? Since that Time What music made they, when the pride and prime Of all her Sex (MARIA) in our Land The Queen's arrival. Made Her most wished Arrival; Hand in Hand joining two royal Sisters, to Advance The Glories of them both: Great Britain, France. But I too far, in this Digression go, My joy (almost) made me forget my woe: The woes of my disease;— The Sore, that treads My Beauty under foot;— The Sore that spreads O'er all my Happiness;— The Sore that makes Me, to be loathed and left;— The sore that takes My Sons and Daughters from me; And the Sore That makes this mournful music sound, all o'er My spacious Circuit, round about my Walls; The neglect of our duties remembered. For round about them, are the dreadful Calls Of Death, in their sad language.— Had we heard Their Calls unto the Temple, and prepared Zeal, and Divine affection, that the word Sown in our souls, might (as it ought) afford A fruitful Harvest of good works, no doubt, We had not heard these clangors fly about Her Counsel to fly to him, from him we cannot. Thus to affright, to wound us.— But 'tis Just Those sounds, we would not hear, these sounds we must; Till Heaven be pleased to still'em.— That He may Le's fly to meet him; Weep, and Fast, and Pray. The Graves still greedily gaping. O See, (like wounds digged in my tender side) My multitude of Graves, that gaping wide Are hourly fed, with Carcases of Men; Those hardly swallowed, they'll be fed again, Gorged with my Sons and Daughters: as if He All things made for man, man for God. All things were made for, were but made, to be A prey to worms:— As if the end of Birth, Were 〈◊〉 to cry, to labour, and in Earth Have his eternal period:— As if Breath Were a Child's bubble, and the sport of Death: For so He triumphs now; so now He kills, Death's Triumph. So empties Houses; so the Grave he fills, Those Tenements of his.— Where many lie, (Too many manyes) not like things that die Assured in their Redeemer, that they shall Rise to a Being, whence they ne'er can fall; But— I ha'done;— Passion, thy power is strong The rest in weeping; tears are sorrows Tongue. Sleep, sleep in peace my Children, in your dust We see what 'tis, to brittle life to trust, A great help to live, is, to remember we must die. And Her still failing Adjuncts: For thus fades The Pomp of flesh: And— entered those dark shades From Court, or from the Village, All are one, Degrees in Life there are, in Death there's none. Her Houses, their Master's Prison. O See my Sons and Daughters, that survive Their Household massacr'e, (half dead) alive, In their own Houses buried; or as bad, Enjayled, imprisoned;— In that passion clad, That to behold them, makes Affection wring My Heart to Blood, mine Eyes into a spring; (Maternal love's Companions)— See the Wife The Wife. Sadly bemoan, the loss of half Her life, I'th' loss of her poor Husband.— See her sit, (While sighs, do sighs, and tears, do tears beget) Ready to follow him, from this sad vale To His eternal Mansion.— See the pale And ghastly seat of death, upon the face The Husband. Parents. Children. Of Husbands for their Wives:— Behold the Race Of grief in Parents, for the sad depart Of Sons and Daughters; Sons and Daughter's smart, To see the stroke, this strange Disease doth give Upon those Lives by which they Be, and Live. See them debarred all meetings of delight, See them debarred society, and sight Of Kindred, and Familiars;— See them there Barred the best pleasure, that doth Passion cheer, Their Recreative walks, losing their share Of what all taste, the sweet and wholesome Air, A poor man's only physic.— See them lose The benefits of those poor Trades they use: The sum of their misery To sum up all their miseries in one, See them i'th' Dungeon, of laments and moan. Yet thus it must be, by the Laws, and Love Of me, their City, and of that Above, For 'tis by Heaven commanded.—— Thou great God Yes Prayer. That more delightst in Mercy, than thy Rod. (joining them both together)— be to these In their need plenty, in their Languor ease. And in the midst of this infectious flame, Let thy good Angel come, and be the same To them, and me their Mother, that He was To those i'th' midst of burning Flames did pass Untouched, or unoffended.— In thy Hand, Is Life and Death; All power in thy Command. Her Multitude of Crosses. O See me full of Crosses; see, and weep To see the Cross thus like a Gangrene creep From part to part upon me.— Nor ist strange We wear these Crosses; they are Heavens exchange Of Crosses with's.— We Crosses had before. The Rich-man's Cross upon the hungry Poor, Our Cross dealing one with another. In gripping and engrossing: which to quit, Need has again (with a dexterious Wit) Crossed them in Cheats and Thieving.— Woe is me The many Crosses of a Term to see; Strange Crosses in strange Cases:— Then a sleight; The Cross of Measure, and the Cross of Weight; The Cross of honest-seeming, to deceive; The Cross of Swearing, to make men believe What Truth is racked to look on.— And for these Our sins the cause of our fichnesse. Crosses of Sin, the Crosses of Disease Stick like a brand upon's; upon us fall The First, on many; but the Last, on All. But to the Cross again, which doth present In all, (but in my Sorrows) all Content. Saint George his Cross, England's, the Badge of joy, These Crosses the Badge of Death. Is here the Badge of Him that doth destroy, No Champion ever like Him:— For His power, In thousand Places, Thousands in one Hour Her incitement to Prayer and ●oly duties. Turns to the Pit before Him.— 'Gainst this loss O lets petition Heaven; and that this Cross, This Viol full of Anger may be stayed; Which, till it be (by the Almighty laid) We patiently must bear it; 'Tis decreed: For He for Us upon a Cross did bleed, Has told us plainly we His Cross must bear, The necesty of them Or ne'er ascend His Dwelling.— Where no care, No Chance, no Change, Time or Defection dwells; But All so full of Glory, it excels The Compass of Man's thought.— Tothth' Cross we then Add— Lord have Mercy upon us All.— AMEN. ¶ Her Termes. O See my Terms cut off, in them the Law, (That eeuen Line, justice her sell doth draw, Guiding to pious dealing) Like a Mute; Nor hinder wrong, nor help a rightful Suit, While my Infection spreads. Woes, woe succeed, Of all Demurs, here's a Demur indeed. Her Parament. ¶ See how the City has disturbed the Court, How my Disease has troubled the Import And weighty Businesses of that High Seat, Where Royal Charles and his grave Synod treat The grounds of all our safety.— And at last Dissolved that Royal meeting here, and placed LONDON, Westminst. Mine, and my Sister's Dignity and Grace Upon a Handmaid to us.— o'er which Place, Oxenford. Her Petition. Thou God of Mercy all thy Mercies spread, And there, and here, and every where strike dead This All-devouring Monster. Let thy love, Make this an Act, in thy great Court above. ¶ O See how my Disease, has seemed to check ¶ Her Pageants. The love, and duty, is prepared to deck My streets with stately Pageants. Things should wear What they should be. Much Cost, much Art, and in their structures bear The fullness of Invention: where the Eye, May feast itself, on the variety Of specious Forms, and Figures, and the Ear, The soul, of all those rich Inventions hear Delivered, in Choice language.— I presume What they shall be. That thus they shall be, when they shall assume Their costly Robes preparing.— But (alas) They yet stand bare and naked; and men pass What they are. By them, as by myself: for that Disease That dyms my lustre, has denied it these, And all those Beauties my large Bounds embrace. Repair sweet Mercy, what sad frowns deface. Her brief Petitions O see how thick, these shafts of vengeance fly, How thick they fall, how thick Men fall and dye, Of this Massacre in general Which way so ere we turn us! If your eyes Can see for Tears, see how this Tyrant plies The cruel part he's acting. How He sweeps Whole Families before him, and then keeps Whole Families taken away. (In dismal emptiness) Possession there, Where life again would enter, but that Fear Does for a time deter him. For this Foe, (Invisible, Invincible) a Blow Gives above all resist.— O see my Streets To many, Deathbeds; for this Monster meets Men boldly there and strikes 'em:— here Men tread, To sight, in safety; there o'th' sudden dead. See, see, O see, how thick from all my parts Gallants in Coaches, and their Goods in Carts Fly my poor wounded Body:— where before The Flight of Citizens Her Sons, ●ith her ●ender Heart's anguish for it. (That their rich splendour might in mine be more) They would embrace me, hug me.— But the Flight Of these move little; That would kill me quite, Is, that my Sons, (They that upon my Breast Have had repose, (a long and tender rest) And from it sucked the Substance made them grow Great in the World's Opinion) In my woe, Want and distress forsake me. These, that He That was a Bondman, and by me made Free; That took his Oath to love me, and submit His best Endeavours to me, to beget, Guard and maintain mine Honours.— But no more. Thus Swallows Winter fly; the Rich, the Poor. Upon Relation of the many Miseries, that many of those that fly the City, do fall into in the Country. Her Tears, Sighs, and Passion augmented. O My full Tide of Anguish! Yet mine Eye Drops not so fast, so much to see them fly; As, in that Flight, to see them headlong run To greater dangers, than they fly to shun: In multitudes we find it; and still thus 1. Her gree● for them that mind not Hers. Deplore their Sorrows, though they mind not us. here Bills and Halberds meet 'em;— where, (as one Had dared the Law in some great mischief done) 2. Met and stayed like Felons. They must be stayed, examined, and there show What place they came from, to what place they go; Th'occasions of their travail; and before Some Constable, can hardly tell three score, Must show their Passes. And from place to place, 3. Show their Passes like Rogues (Passing through Villages) through this disgrace Pass till they end their journey. And what then? What comfort find they (poor distressed Men) When (through these scorns and loathe) they have got The place to which they travail? Are they not With great suspicion, much amaze and fear, (As if each part about them seemed to bearo Their en●tainmēt. Plagues and infections in them) entertained At Halberds point, at distance? and constrained (In their least pity) to a private Room? Though ne'er so sound they are; and in the Doom Of that Imprisonment, some part o'th' load Of what they shun at home, they meet abroad. Mark 〈◊〉 mise●●. But this is but disgrace: See some poor souls Under necessities more harsh controls Made strangers to acquaintance; nay, the Son A stranger to his Father; Brothers shun The Partners of their Blood; and Mother's 〈◊〉, Those they have hugged and dandled, (as they me.) O let me weep, (weep blood) and through that glass Hardly welcome Look yet a little further; where (alas) We may behold some of my Sons that here Had soft and easy lodging, lodging there Hard ●odging. In Stables, Barns, outhouses; nay be glad To sleep in Hovils; think no room too bad That had a covering o'er it: some be fain To lodge, where neither 'gainst the Wind, the rain, Nor the Sun's fury, they could shelter have; Heaven only covering them, and they their Grave. Then, as a sad Companion to their woe, (For miseries do seldom single go) ●. Their miseries in their sickness. Behold them in these Lodgings, faint and weak, Their Purses many may some comfort speak, But purchase none or little; and that too, But dealt among them, as a man should do Such duties to a Lion, to a Bear, Or some such savage Creature, in great fear, Fling some poor pittance to them, and then fly: 9 The tendance. here's all their tendance, let them live or dye. See some o'er taken with so faint a breath, 10. Many there, as with us, die in the common way, 〈◊〉 & Ditch Ere half their journeys done they Inn with Death, I'th' common way they tread on; as they go Fall to the ground and dye: great numbers so In Rhodes, in Ditches, in the open Field, The debt of Breath, thus to their Maker yield; And wher● they die, are buried. Some again (So bold we are to sin to add more sin) On Sledges, Barrowes, Dung-carts, any thing (The wisdom of those places please to bring) Are borne to places more remote; and some (Like Dogs) are haled with Cart-ropes to a Tomb Fit, but for Dogs and carrion: into which, As they are found, theyare tumbled; Poor, and Rich: Their rich Apparel, their rich Pockets; All: Nay, Gold itself they bury; that must fall To''th' place it came from: so that by this Rod, The s 〈◊〉 God, a Devil. That seems a Devil now, seemed once. God. Oh, I could weep myself into a Stone, Or my, as senseless Image, in the moan Of my poor Sons and Daughters; that with me Her Apostrophe in Groves & sighing. Had had far better usage: But, in vain I weep for them: Now to myself again. So, (as preparing to a Bridal Bed) In what a Path of Herbs and Flowers men tread, Which way so ere they wander: For, each Street Seems now a Garden; All as green, as sweet. But Oh, my sad my sick, my bleeding Heart! These are no Nuptial strew; here no part Of such a joy's appearing: For (O, see!) These Paths are for the Dead, and such as be The half, dead train attends them. Every where Nothing but Graves, but Coffins, but the Beer, And bearing breathless Bodies to the Ground; Delight's an Exile now, pale Mourning Crowned. ¶ See how my Streets are emptied, how my Trade, (Io which there is another Sickness made) Lies as 'twere dead and Buried. See, (O, see) The Shops of those are Dead and those that Flee, So every where shut up, a man may say; What's all this Time; but Grim DEATH'S HOLIDAY? ¶ Yet see my emptiness too 〈…〉 moan, For not a Friend, a Friend without a grove, Sighs and sad Language meet.— See Death destroy All our expected pleasure, all our joy, Till Heaven shall stop his Progress. Unawares Our Feastings turned to FASTING; Play, to PRAYERS. Most fit it should be, and most fit, we praise That Holy KING, that made these Holy DAYS. That has commanded, what his God commands, His Proclamation is Falling an Prayer Niniu. buckler. That Second God to us, that understands That the best Buckler, to defend the stroke, Heaven lays on Sinners, which their sins provoke; I●●eeping Ninivies. That Prayers and Tears, When Hezekiah, was beset with fears, Hezekiahs' Prayer. Procured an Angel, in his cause to fight, Whose unresisted power, in one night, A hundred, fourscore, and five thousand men Laid dead before him; He who knows again, When God had purposed this good King to death, By Prayer, He changed that purpose, and got breath His life prolonged by Prayer For fifteen Summers longer. He that knows How; when the fiery Serpents, wounded those Murmured at Moses, when good Moses prayed, Those Serpents lost their stings, that Plague was stayed. So Lord stay this, this Serpent, whose sharp sting Has pierced to many; and let Mercy spring, In thy good pleasure to us.— From the Deep 〈…〉 〈◊〉 anguish Lord we call, we pray, we weep, ●nd do as they did: By this Serpent struck, We on a second; on our Saviour look, Expecting cure.— To which be pleased to Bow, And what their prayers did then, let ours do now. With this Exhortation to her Sons, in the brief Enumeration, or Repetition of some things formerly spoken by way of Allusion, She Concludes. Hear then my Bells, call to the Church, and Death; Review my Graves: There the full point of Breath; Know thy proud flesh, a Prison to thy Soul; The Cross a Badge, did Death and Hell controuse. 〈…〉 thou the Law of Heavens eternal Love, The Acts and Statutes of that Court Above; Love thou the sights, the blessed Angels see; Serve thou the God, with whom All pleasures be; Obey his Royal Substitute, thy King; Let love among you, have an endless Spring: Level your words, and Actions to the will Of Him, has power to pardon, or to spill, And I shall soon be well; and you in Me, And I in you, All our best wishes see. The Author's comfortable Conclusion and thankful Remembrance of God's great mercies, in the happy surcease of this dangerous Contagion, and preservation of those, who are yet living. THus much for this Cloud of misery, now to that glorious Sun of God's mercy, which most graciously rising upon us, hath begun to dissolve, dissipate, and dispel it, in the decrease of those that die of this heavily bewailed Contagion: Upon which looking, let us say with David, What shall I return to the Lord, etc. Withal, make this promise, and zealously strive to perform it; That that God, that in his Anger, remembers Mercy; That desires not the death of a Sinner, but rather, than he return and live, may continue this mercy to us; and speedily (if it be his blessed will and pleasure) say as he said, to that destroying Angel, in the time of his Kingly Prophet, It is sufficient; hold now thy hand. That so, we here at home, and those abroad, that (as if they could sly from God) slew from us, may again meet; he decently merry; Live lovingly, assist one another willingly, and finally that All together, to him that of ●othing, hath made us; that lost, hath Redeemed us; that erring, reduced us; that Ignorant, hath taught us; that sinning hath gently chastised us; that despairing hath comforted us; that falling hath raised us; that standing hath held us; that going hath lead us, that Coming hath received us; And, that from this and many other dangers hath delivered us. We may show ourselves evermore thankful: still pray, still praise him, that so this span of Life ended, we may, (falling in death) rise again to that Life that shall never end. Four things ever to be Remembered. Think on thy Sin, That thou mayst grieve: On DEATH, That thou thy sin mayst leave: The Last great judge, That thou mayst fear: On MERCY, that thou not despair. FINIS.