DIVINE DIALOGUES.  
VIZ. 

Dives' Doom.  
Sodom's Flames. and  
Abraham's Faith.    
CONTAINING The Histories of Dives and Lazarus, The Destruction of Sodom, And Abraham's Sacrificing his Son.  
To which is Added joseph Revived, OR, The History of his Life and Death.  
By George Lesly, Minister of the Gospel.  Herbert's Church-Porch. 
A Verse may find him, who a Sermon flies,  
And turn delight into a Sacrifice.  
LONDON, ●●inted for Charles Smith, at the Angel near 〈◊〉 the Inner Temple gate, Fleetstreet. 1678.   

To the Right Honourable Charles Earl of Westmoreland. etc.  
Right Honourable,  
THough the Author's obscurity, and unworthiness of the ensuing Poem, may in Justice forbidden either your Lordship's Patronage; yet the swift-winged fame of your Honour's goodness, giving life to my harmless ambition, hath emboldened me (though with trembling Heart and Hand) to make this poor address. Not that I have, or dare have, confidence to think it worth your Lordship's acceptance, being the frozen conception of one born in a cold Climate; but that the enlivening Beams of your Honour's Patronage, may screen it from that contempt and obloquy it might otherwise meet with in a hotter region: On this and no other score is poor Aeschine's gift presented to your Lordship. Favour therefore noble Sir, my beggar with a Serene Aspect. And if your Honour think him worthy, grant him the regard of being one of the meanest of your Lordship's Closet inhabitants; and for his fidelity, take the word of a Priest, he'll neither steal nor flatter. His beginning is divine and so I hope is his rise, though he be not adorned with so much Eloquent bravery as this Golden-tongued age boasteth of; yet I dare say, he will stammer out so much truth as may inform the Reader, that the Kernel not Shel, the substance not show of Christian Religion and Piety is to be minded. I might I confess have drawn the Matter to a longer Thread, had I not feared that it would neither please your Honour's Eye, nor become the Hand of,  
Your Lordships, most Obedient. George Lesly. Wittring, June 14. 1676.   

To the READER.  
HAving in a small essay declared myself a Lover of the Muses, I have now ventured upon the Stage, not ignorant of the fate ●hat attends pious Poems; that of the Poet being ●o less true than common. Pro captu lectoris ha●ent sua fata libelli. I discern a Cloud (I might say 〈◊〉 crowd) of Carpers, for they will be of all sorts. The Learned whom I honour, and would be glad ●o imitate, may think my Style antic, Matter ●aw, Plots ill-laid and worse managed, and no ●arty well humoured: To them I grant all, because they could better have answered wise men's expectations in such an enterprise. Yet I hope ●hat the expression is neither so rude, nor the mat●er so indigested, (though that be not so tumid, ●or this so taking as the Genius of the present Age requires) but that they may outlive the rigour ●f a sober censurer, and prove beneficial to some. The Lady that weareth a Ruff with a lose Gown; ●he Gentleman with the high Crowned Hat, and Wooden heeled Shoes, may call it plain old English, and good Morality at least.  
I know there are Courteous as well as Critical heads, these may let my Pamphlet alone; 'tis intended for the other. If the Stage-Poet frown, all I shall say to him is, Though my Muse be not tuned to his Key, yet my mind transcends his Apollo.  
Majora Cano.  
But if all men put a fair construction on what they find here, and read, with the same intention I wrote it, not only to divert idle hours, but to deter them from sin, who will not trouble themselves with an impartial Scrutinity of Holy Wri● for an Antidote; and to promote Divine Faith and Charity among Mortals in this faithless and frozen Age. If this I say be done, my time (I hope) in Writing, nor theirs in Reading, will be misspent.  
Farewell.   

The Persons.  

Dives, a wicked Rich man.  


Pride.  
Gluttony.   his Friends.  
Huntsman.  
Servants.  
Lazarus, a Beggar.  


Poverty.  
Sickness.   his Attendants.  
Death.  
Sexton.  
Surgeons, Masons, Carvers.  
Mourners.  
Angels, good and bad.  
Abraham.  
Threnophilus, one who writeth his Epitaph.    

The Prologue.  
THese humble Lines to all men cry aloud,  
Bidding them shun Hell's horror Styg'an flood  
In Heaven's Language, every Neophyte,  
Must learn to say, mercy Lord, I'm not meet  
To tread thy Courts; nor cast a hoping Eye  
Upon a promise, till I do espy,  
My Sins transferred on a Saviour.  
And then, O then! gins that happy hour.  
When dismal Clouds of wrath shall disappear,  
And Sunshine mercy overspread the Sphere  
Of thy poor weatherbeaten Soul, and then,  
Thy Tongue shall bless God; thank the trembling pen  
Of him who raised thee out of deepest sleep,  
 death succeeded; wishing thee to keep,  
The wholesome Laws of him who can destroy  
Thy Soul, or give it everlasting Joy.  
These are the ends I have proposed, and do  
Wish they may prove effectual to you.  
If sense, not swelling words have leave to speak,  
Know, it is you, not yours that I do seek.   

●● DIVES' DOOM, OR, The Rich Man's Misery.  Dives, Pride, Servants. Diu. 
WHat Monster's this li'th at my noble Gate,  
Bedaubed with leprous spots? what cruel fate  
Attends the caitiff? What unhappy Star  
Ruled at his birth: that such his miseries are?  
While happy I, who scorn the Divine Powers  
Am glorious, by Nature's help and yours.  
Doth not the World behold my heaps of Gold  
With covetous eyes?  Pr. 
Yes, it was always bold.  Diu. 
This stately Fabric that is by me made,  
Do not all men admire?  Pr. 
Yes, most have said:  
You're he, and only he, dare boldly say,  
The life of Man is constant holiday.  
The earth with all its fullness smiles on you,  
And we its dearest Minions, serve you too.  
Rise from your rich, embroidered Bed, I see  
This petty light would emulator be,  
Of those resplendent Rubies that hang round  
Your Couch: and those, wherewith your Head is crowned.  
See! how the numerous Atoms dance and touch  
Your lofty Brow, as if they did think much  
That their own Brats should have so near approach  
To your admired worth; they but encroach.  
Rise up, and let your Purple Red, and White,  
Exceed the Sun in beauty and delight:  
Call, call your Waiting-men, that they may dress  
And fit you, for your golden Business.  Diu. 
Who's there?  Pr. 
What! Slaves, do not you hear my Lord?  
Good Servants always answer at first word.  Seru. 
We come, what is your Honour's will?  Diu. 
That ye Perform your Offices, I'll dressed be.  Seru. 
What  to day, Great Sir, the Heaven's frown?  Diu. 
What! Purple and fine Linne, worse I scorn.  Pr. 
Good, good immortal Sir! why should you be  
Served with the Emblems of Mortality?  
With Russet, Flaxen, or the courser Stuff,  
Since your rich Wardrobe can afford enough,  
To speak you Non-such, bring the Crimson Suit,  
(You may at pleasure have a new recruit.)  
Finest Silk Stockings, Shoes of golden Cloth.  
With best of Beavers (never touched by moth;)  
The largest Chain of Gold, and Diamond Rings,  
Never as yet put on; all other things  
Are ready. Barber, are your Razors good?  
Come, shave your Master, but beware of blood.  
Powder, Perfume, Pomatum, and the Glass,  
Bring. Let my Lord see his admired face.  
Haste with the golden Basin, silver Ure,  
In place of water, Wine put in that's pure;  
This will not only wash, but strengthen all  
The Members of my Lord both great and small:  
The Scarlet Cloak forget not, Cuffs and Band  
Of Lace, see! how the Fools amazed stand:  
Groom of the Chambers call to make a fire,  
Perfuming first the Room at my desire;  
Thus is my business done. Now I retire.  Gluttony, Dives, Lazarus, Huntsman, Pride, Poverty, Sickness. Glut. 
Hail, glory of the world, and more than Man!  
Since Brother Pride hath served you what he can:  
I think its time for you to take advice  
From me; Drink first your Mornings-draught with Spice.  
Here Sir, accept the Quintessence of Blood,  
Distilled from the Oppressed, taste, it's good;  
And here the widow's house, a greater Doses;  
The next's a Cordial from the Church's :  
These (I presume) may serve you till you dine,  
E'er than what you expect, I will design.  Diu. 
Thanks dearest friend, O how this Spirit pleases!  
Sure'tis Nepenthes, cure for all Diseases;  
It is Ambrosia or Nectarian Juice,  
The Gods (themselves) no better drink can wish:  
I certainly enlivened am all o'er,  
My Soul itself is greater than before.  Pr. 
I'm sure your eyes shine brighter than the Sun,  
Now Thunder speaks, make Earthquakes, I have done  
So all that's called Man, thy threatening voice  
Shall fear, and we your Vassals must-rejoyce.  Glut. 
Sir, if your greater business permit:  
I have one word to speak (if you think fit)  
This Beauty-broker minds not that the Clock  
Saith, It is time, your Stomach to unlock.  
His trimming without food can never please;  
You know Dogs only hunger bear for ease.  
Come Sir, your Table's richly furnished.  
Pray give you o'er and let my Master feed.  
Here's Manna instead of Bread, here's sprightly Wine,  
Here's flesh of all sorts, delicate and fine;  
With Sweetmeats store, and all may gratify  
And please my Lord his  and his Eye.  Diu. 
Was ever Man so happy in his friends,  
As I in mine? their kindness never ends;  
For which on them my Substance I'll bestow,  
(If that be not sufficient, Soul too.)  
Open the Casement, pray let in the Air;  
Hark, hark, what voice doth to my Ears repair.  Laz. 
One crumb for God's sake to a hungry Soul.  Diu. 
Go, ask the Huntsman why the Dogs do howl.  Laz. 
One crumb for heavens sake to the hunger-starved.  Hunt. 
'Tis not the Dogs, a Beggar would be served.  Diu. 
Prodigious boldness! dare that meazled whelp  
Approach my Parlor-window to seek help;  
Must he, a very mass of loathsomeness  
Name God or Heaven? (these do disturb my bless)  
No, Huntsman, whip him while his life doth last,  
And say, the rich man sent that for's repast.  Hunts. 
Come Leprous Rascal, here's a wyred cord  
With which I'll scourge you, 've disturbed my Lord:  
Thou knowst that Heaven & Earth can ne'er agree,  
How then should our great Dives suffer thee,  
Who, what he e'er expects enjoyeth here,  
Though such as Fools are, think there's more elsewhere.  
Come, I must whip thee dead, 'tis his command;  Laz. 
First, let me tell you on what ground you stand,  
Though his great favours smile on you this day,  
To morrow's frowns may call them all away:  
And then the lash may be bestowed on you:  
Which heard, the Huntsman (making humble bow)  
Said, Sir, what are you?  Laz. 
Dost not plainly se●  
Me, one (to look on) fraught with misery,  
View me all o'er, if any part be free,  
I'll not desire compassion from thee.  
If otherwise, take heed thou dost not wrong  
My Lord and Master, who will be too strong:  
For thee, and thine. Though he may from me take  
This painful life, he whom I serve, can make  
It up, with interest a hundred fold.  
(Yet pardon me, if I have been too bold)  Hunts. 
Make but these words clear to my duller brain,  
And then I will forbear; if I be slain  
In place of thee? What dost thou say to this?  Laz. 
My answer's short, thou art not far from bliss,  
Couldst thou but see all unto me belongs,  
Thou wouldst conclude that all corporeal wrongs  
Are Skin-deep only, while my better part  
Rejoiceth always, when my wounds do smart,  
Knowing that without tribulation  
I never can possess that station  
Bought with the blood of an eternal Son:  
Ponder this well, and then God's will be done.  Dives. 
What mean'th the cursed Blockhead to delay  
His torture thus.  Hunts. 
I'm charmed, and what to say  
I know not, for he saith, he hath a Soul  
Impassable: if so, I dare not foul  
My hands with blood, for which I answer must  
Before the Judgement seat of him that's Just.  Diu. 
Whip him, or die, Rogue, if that will not do,  
My Dogs are keen, I'll make them eat him too.  Hunts. 
Sir, I must do't, you must your shoulders bore  
I will strike easy, though I dare not spare.  Laz. 
Will not Heaven woe thee? Is thy Master's word  
Sharper than hellish Torments? Flaming Sword,  
Mark them about me stand: who will defend  
Thy worst of bloody blows, and then will send  
Thee to the place prepared for cruelty,  
Where Dives also shall a sharer be.  Hunts. 
A Vision! I dare not touch this man,  
Who hath an Angel for his Guardian.  Diu. 
A Fool, an Angel, you flew high last night,  
Your brain is dry, eyes dim, there no such sight;  
Old Nurses only scare their Babes with such,  
Believe nothing, but what ye see or touch.  
Call out the Dogs, Rockwood, Old Lady, Ring,  
And you shall see that they mind no such thing;  
Baw, awe, awe.  Laz. 
Peace, gentle Hounds, forbear to do me harm.  Hunts. 
My Lord, he can the Beagles also charm.  
Sir, do but see, how they lie at his feet,  Deu. 
Then call them in; hang him, it is not meet  
That Wizards (such as he) should have relief  
From him, who never was sensible of grief.  Laz. 
Hang me, why so? you see I have no spell,  
But that may keep such as yourself from hell.  Diu. 
He makes me tremble, fill the other cup,  
When Dinner's o'er, I'll see him hanged up.  
Come eat and drink, if this must be my doom,  
I'll lose no time (I swear) before it come.  
Hell! I have that within me, there's no other  
Which I resolve to drown. Come, fill another,  
A third, a fourth, fift, and then as many more,  
I'm sure the Beggar's God hath no such store  
In his Elysium—  Laz. 
There pretty Dogs, lick on your healthful tongues,  
Make satisfaction for your Master's wrongs;  
But Good my Lord, one morsel to the poor,  Diu. 
Peace wretch, you shall be hanged at my door.  Laz. 
For God's sake, Sir, bestow the crumbs that fall  
From your full Table on him, who doth call  
For Christ and pity's sake to be relieved,  
My suit is honest, Pray Sir, be not grieved.  Diu. 
What tell'st thou me either of Christ, or Pity?  
This is my House. I'xpect no other City.  Laz. 
But to relieve the Poor's the way to bliss,  Diu. 
Give o'er, you Rascal, there's no Heaven but this.  
Here's all that I can wish for, or desire.  Laz. 
No, Herer's no screen to keep thee from Hell-fire;  
Nor is here any fence 'gainst powerful Death,  
Thou, thou, proud Dives, must resign thy breath.  Diu. 
Ha! ha'! this canting Rogue would terrify  
Me also with that Mormo, I must die.  Pr. 
I wonder, Sir, you have the patience  
To speak, or look on such, bid drive him hence.  Laz. 
I wonder more that he should dote on thee,  
A pinted Devil, Soul's great Enemy;  
While the almighty's Power upholds the house;  
Thou fawn'st and flatterest; but if he let lose  
His Instruments, Want, Sickness, Pain or Age,  
Thou fleest, than men must Act, or leave the Stage,  
Without thy aid, Angels and Adam's foe  
Cease thy delusions, let great Dives go.  Pr. 
Sir, do not ye hear this malicious wretch,  
'Tis want of Bread that makes him use this fetch  
To draw you in for this his wants supply.  Pou. 
No, thou'rt mistaken, if he still deny  
Or give to Lazar, either cannot hinder  
The wholesome Precepts he shall to him tender;  
For having learned content in all Estates,  
He can endure cold Frosts, and Summer's heats.  
Let him be pinched with want, abound with wealth,  
All's welcome. Sickness is to him as health:  
His needy Belly, and these noisome Sores,  
Are called by him Harbingers to stores  
Of endless Joy, the thoughts of which doth raise  
His Soul above the World's Envy or Praise.  Sick. 
True, true, dear friend, for when men are brought low  
By me, they study only Heaven to know,  
Although my various pains disrobe their faces  
Of earthly glories, they augment their graces.  
The true accountant of his days did say,  
Before affliction, I went astray.  
But being touched by my Morbific hand,  
His eyes were opened, and he saw a Land:  
So full of glory (though a King before)  
He'll there throw down his Crown, and keep the Door,  
Where Sunbeam-Beauty sat upon his brow  
So bright, so long, that Meshech, Kedar now  
Are black and ugly, Heaven alone can please,  
Such are th' effects of this good man's disease.  Pr. 
Great Sir, this drift you easily may ' spy,  
They would have Friendship broke 'twixt you and I;  
Old friends are always sure, beware of new,  
There are Religious Cheaters, not a few;  
Is any one so mad to think that heaven,  
When balanced with Gold, can carry even;  
No Sir, leave these to such far-hoping fools,  
They may be hurt, who meddle with edged tools.  Diu. 
Their words are vain, thou art to me most dear,  
I hate their persons, and give o'er to hear  
Their savourless discourse. Come, let me drink,  
This babbling makes me melanchol' I think,  Pr. 
Cheer up, great Sir, shall your courageous Soul  
Be daunted with the whooping of an Owl;  
Shall croaking flesh-crow-sounds disturb your breast,  Glut. 
Here's Lethe water will make you forget,  
That eyer Lazarus was heard as yet.  Diu. 
O! but my head aches, and my spirit's dull.  Pr. 
In haste, of Cordial, bring a brimmer full.  Glut. 
Be of good cheer, this draught is for your good.  Diu. 
Oh! oh! oh! oh! Now, now I feel my blood  
Returning to its Centre; and my eye,  
The greatest Object doubled doth espy.  
Oh, hold me, all my limbs begin to shake;  
Hold me, O hold, or else my poor heart will break.  
Who's there? O who's there! O what friends have I  
To leave me thus in my extremity.  
Who's there? oh! who's there?  Laz. 
All your friends are gone.  Diu. 
Canst thou not help?  Laz. 
Yes, but I●ll let alone,  
To see if your belov'd Fraternity,  
Dare show their heads to promise certainty  
Of a reprieve.  Diu. 
Dear Pride where art thou now?  Pr. 
At hand; but cannot help, I've made a Vow,  
Never to own, or speak to dying men.  Diu. 
Delicious Gluttony, where art thou then?  Glut. 
Here Sir, but all in vain, your passage stops.  Diu. 
May be for Meat, yet bring the golden drops,  
My Essences of all sorts, now bring out.  
A friend (be damned) he never stirs a foot.  Glut. 
Why should I, Sir, though I was sworn to be  
Yours unto death; now you must pardon me.  Diu. 
Ah wretches! who would trust you. Lazarus, where art thou?  Laz. 
who would be abused thus?  
What think you now of your forenoons discourse?  Diu. 
Good Lazarus forbear, that makes me worse.  Laz. 
Then you must die, as once before I said,  
Though you, and yours than nothing of it made.  Diu. 
Nothing so true. Oh! oh! what sight is here,  
A Sceleton brings in an empty Beer.  Death. Dives. Death. 
Sir, I arrest you at th' Almighty's suit.  Diu. 
I know him not. What man on Earth dare do't?  Death. 
Do not your out-cries speak you prisoner.  
Now better words become you, do not err.  Diu. 
I scorn to please a Bailiff What's my charge?  
That I will pay; and thee thy fees at large.  
How'er 'tis strange that any should me sue.  
I never borrower was, nor lender knew.  Death. 
The last is true, the first a horrid Lie;  
All that thou haft is borrowed; for which I  
Do execute this Warrant without Bail.  Diu. 
— Stay, first set my goods to sale.  Death. 
Goods, thou hast none, a judgement passed long since.  Diu. 
Judgement, you Rogue, I never owed two pence.  Death. 
But you're a Bankrupt and must defray  
All now.  Diu. 
What are the Bills that I must pay.  Death. 
I have a many, whose total's transgression.  Diu. 
Then bailed I may be by your own confession;  
And I can have the best in all the Land.  Death. 
No mortal dare your action take in hand.  
To Goal you must.  Diu. 
I'll pay before I go.  Death. 
You lived blindly, and you will die so.  
Do not you hear? what?  Dea. 
your own Conscience  
Cry, guilty, guilty.  Diu. 
Yes, I must go hence.  
Treasur's farewel, Pride, Gluttony and Pleasure,  
This is the last, Death gives me no more leisure;  
Else I would question you of treachery;  
For crying, Hail, and yet to Crucify  
Your Noble Master.  Death. 
Such things said before  
Might have done good, but now you must give o'er;  
Time's Glass is almost out, Eternit' enters;  
The worst of men sometimes are late repenters;  
Which can in no case mitigate Hell's flame,  Death. 
Hast'any more to say, I strike the stroke.  Diu. 
No, no, you need not, my heart-veins are broke:  
Augh— augh— augh— g-o-l-d-dead.  Death. Lazarus. Death. 
You smile, and yet you must my Captive be  
Laz. Most joyful news (dear friend) than I shall see  
An end to all my lingering days; in grief,  
Is any thing more welcome than relief  
To weatherbeaten Seamen, when the Waves  
Of boisterous Neptun clasps his open Jaws  
About their Vessel, forced by Wind and Tide.  
Or to the Sould'er when he hath espied  
The Enemy triumphing on his ground,  
With flaming Steel and conquering Trumpet sound.  
Unto the hungry Soul what gives more life,  
Then sight of Butler's liberal hand, and knife,  
Ready to cut that may his app'tite stay;  
Or to the weary Pilgrim on his way,  
What's greater joy, than when he sees, and whe●  
His friends receive him safe returned again.  
Such straits had I in all my life, yet still  
I sought to be submissive to the will  
Of my good God, and shall I quest'on now  
That Strength and Goodness, which I ever knew?  
No, thou art welcome as the Harbinger,  
To call me hence, where my affections were,  
All this sad time that I have lived on earth;  
No man's more willing to resign his breath.  Death. 
thou'rt not afraid of death as Dives was?  Laz. 
No Sir, you see that I have no such cause.  Death. 
You are a debtor too, an't must be paid.  Laz. 
Yes unto nature. What my sins have made  
Me liable to th'Law when Christ did bleed,  
He said, that from the same I should be freed;  
Whose Cross my Crown, and Blood my Treasure is;  
This being so, pardon I cannot miss.  Death. 
Then thou art ready.  Laz. 
Yes, through heavens Grace,  
And hope e'er long to see his blessed face.  
●n Glory. Who is that behind you stands?  Death. 
It is an Angel into whose blessed hands,  
You must resign your Soul. Now I must see  
The Rich Man's Funeral Solemnity.  Pride, Sexton, Chirurgeons, Masons, Carvers. Pr. 
This loathsome, pale-faced Death, made me retire  
●rom my deceased Lord, whose last desire  
Was, That you Sexton ring his passing Bell;  
And you Embalmers dress his Body well;  
And that you Masons out of Marble Rock,  
●ig for his Statue a substantial Block,  
〈◊〉 length seven foot, breadth four and somewhat more,  
●or's just dimension (as he was before)  
●ou'r wished likewise who Mallet use and Tool,  
●o cut th' Effigies while his wand'ring Soul  
●oth miriads of years 'bout Lethe Streams  
●ange, drink and sleep, until his newer Dreams  
Remove him to the fair Elysium,  
Where none but such as my dear Dives come.  Sext. 
Master, I went about your just Commands,  
But flaming Spirits flood and held my hands,  
Saying, That since you, you had damned his Soul,  
He was no better if the Bell did towl:  
Though then at Prayer, these unexpected words  
With stranger Faces and prodigious Swords,  
Repelled my spirits so, as I seemed to be,  
As fit for my last Funeral Rite as he.  Pr. 
Well, 'tis no matter, I and Gluttony,  
In spite of Heaven and Hell will Ringers be.  
Chyrurg ' on's view the Corpse, and spare no cost;  
We do too little when we do the most:  
For our dead Father Dives, by whose breath,  
All men received either life or death.  
Though we 'bove all, as trusties, must our skill  
Use, till we have performed his last Will.  
An't shall be done, Artists, what say you to't?  Chyr. 
Sir, Art availeth not, we cannot do it;  
The sparkling Glow-worm yesterday shined bright  
Melts into Rottenness: A horrid sight!  Pr. 
Where is the leaden Coffin? put him in.  Chyr. 
Nor this Sir, can we do, he hath no skin.  
His flesh and bones consume, nothing remains:  
So save your Gold, good Sir, as we our pains.  Pr. 
Is't usual for dead men to do so.  Chyr. 
No, no, it only speaks where he's to go.  Pr. 
Why? He's already in th' Elysian Groves.  Chyr. 
Be not deceived, Heaven no corrupt'on love  Pr. 
And do you truly think his state is bad.  Chyr. 
We do so truly, and think yours as sad  
Without Repentance.  Pr. 
Now I know ye rave.  Chyr. 
We knew what we should have, no more we crave.  Pr. 
Masons, where is the Stone that I bespoke  
For's Statue?  Mas. 
Coming hither it was broke.  Pr. 
I think we shall be crossed in each design.  Mas. 
We ne'er were so till now, 'tis a bad sign.  Pr. 
I never heard so much of these till now.  Mas. 
Such om' nous things may make a proud man bow.  Pr. 
Bow! with a Pox! then what must the most do.  Mas. 
We answer soon, learn to be humble too.  Pr. 
Be gone, ye Rogues, about your business.  Mas. 
From such as you, we ne'er expected less.  Pr. 
Carvers, have you no such already made?  Car. 
Yes; but we must take pains about the head;  
which we with artificial hairs must cover,  
And in his hands put bags of Gold however.  
Now Sir, it's done according to your mind.  Pr. 
Come take your Money, I'll have that's behind.  Mourners. 
Thrice cursed be the day and Fate,  
That did our bliss obliterate;  
Our golden Mine is now shut up;  
Its owner drinks of Styg'an Cup;  
While we his Votaries do groan,  
Being deprived of him, alone,  
From whom we all our living had,  
All but his Flatter'rs wanted bread:  
His Friends (though few) he loved well;  
Since for them he would go to Hell;  
Where we must leave him, and repent,  
 our last glass of time be spent;  
Or else we must expect that Doom,  
To which he is too surely come,  
For his neglect of Piety,  
Of which he would no lover be:  
Our Tears are vain; then let's give o'er,  
And take possession of his store;  
It is sufficient that his Glory,  
Will live as long as Sacred Story;  
And name of Dives will be sweet,  
To every earthly Proselyte,  
Who make their God of gilded clay,  
Till Heaven, as him, sweep them away:  
There needs no Tomb, most Rich men's Purses,  
Wrap him, as Children, by their Nurses.  Death, Angel, Lazarus. Death. 
Friend Lazarus, how like you my returns  Laz. 
Well, though your absence gave me cause to mourn.  
Had not the glorious Light you left behind,  
Made my past miseries vanish from my mind.  Death. 
Doth not the Doom of the Rich Man affright  
Thy feeble flesh.  Laz. 
ne'er while I see this Light;  
Which I am sure is earnest of that bliss  
I shall receive when come where Jesus is.  
Keep me no longer here, I am most willing;  
Thou canst not hurt me having lost thy Sting.  
Speaketh to the Angel. And you, if sent from God, to be my Guide,  
Hold fast, dark night, rough way, may make me slide.  Ang. 
Joy of thy Lord, I'm come for that same end,  
To bring thee safe to Heaven, he did me send:  
Whose will I always cheerfully obey:  
Yet  we take our wing, pray let us stay,  
And talk of your Adventur's here below:  
This I desire.  Laz. 
I'll tell you what I know.  
What entertainment had you all this time  
On earth?  Laz. 
As Cynthia▪ now Full, now Prime.  
Or as bright Phoebus, whose resplendent Rays,  
Give heat and light to the renewed days,  
And yet are sometimes wrapped in Clouds and Mist,  
That if he shine or not, it is not guest;  
Or when pale Luna overshades his face,  
So various was my state, while in this place.  Ang. 
Is there not then 'mong Mortals difference?  Laz. 
Yes, that's one cause, for which I would go hence.  
Some swim in pleasure, some are drowned in want,  
Though this last happens where true Grace is scant.  
The Rich oppress the Poor, the fat devour  
The lean, and yet this lasteth not an hour,  
Being compared with Eternity.  Ang. 
Do not some say, that they shall never die?  Laz. 
Yes, so said the Rich Man but yesterday.  
Now I am almost weary of my stay;  
For though I'm glad to see your glorious light,  
I long to see my God, who shines more bright;  
Into whose presence I desire to be.  Ang. 
I have yet one word more to say to thee.  
What were thy thoughts of Heaven when thy distress  
And sores were grievous?  Laz. 
You may easily guests.  
I never yet despaired of Shaddai's help,  
Though men looked on me as a leprous whelp.  Ang. 
And thinkest thou that such Misers come to bliss?  Laz. 
The Scripture saith, To such God's Promise is.  Ang. 
Trust me thou darest then with thy happy Soul.  Laz. 
Why should I fear? Since you dare not control  
Your Maker's Mandate; who desires that ye  
Ne●r leave my better part, till placed it be  
In Abrams bosom, where I shall inherit  
More than Elisha's or Elia's spirit.  Ang. 
This pleaseth well. What thy last words may be,  
I'll hear of Mankind's treple Enemy.  
And so go hence: The Flesh, the World, and Hell,  
Are those I mean; b'ing such since Adam fell.  Laz. 
The Devil a Liar is, whom I defy,  
And ever did, you are my witness, by  
His black suggests, that did my Maker rob  
Of's Glory; I despised, and shared with Job,  
In's dunghill scabs, and rather than commit  
A wilful trespass, I would to the pit  
Have gone alive, he hath a murdering mind,  
Although he flatter, let him get behind.  
As for the alluring world, th' Almighty knows,  
It never received aught of me, it owes  
Me many common favours, far it well;  
'Twas better want them, then have gone to Hell.  
Poor flesh, I am a debtor unto thee;  
Wait but a while, my Lord will satisfy  
With Interest, what e'er I took on score,  
Enough for all; thou shalt revive: Nay more,  
Thou shalt be glorified with Christ thy Head,  
At Day of Judgement, when he ' wakes the dead.  Ang. 
This true Confession, makes the glorious  
Earth is not worthy of thee, come with us:  
Death strike him gently, he's the adopted Son  
Of Abram, where I leave him, and have done.  Abraham. Lazarus. Dives. Abr. 
Welcome dear Child, now I am filled with joy,  
To see thee trample all did thee annoy.  
'Tis Faith, and Hope, and Love that helped thee hither:  
Two of which cease, the last shall never whither.  
It's Summer always here, here's no Hail-showers,  
To stock the fruit once set, or blast the Flowers.  
Of bliss eteanal. Pray look upon me,  
My faithful Son, whom I have longed to see;  
Here take this Crown, this Royal Diadem,  
Adron that head, which formerly with shame  
Lay on the Dunghill. Let thy spotted skin  
Henceforth be glorious, as thy Soul within.  
Prepare thine ears for the uncessant noise  
Of Saints and Angels, who do all rejoice  
At thy admission to this Sacred Choir,  
Where all their Hymns are fraught with Divine fire;  
And none do sing of any thing but love.  
That's our eternal business now above.  Laz. 
All praise to the Almighty, through whose Grace,  
I fought the good fight and have won the race.  Abr. 
Raise thy Immortal Voice another Key.  
Thou must sing hallelujahs night and day  
For ever— La. hallelujah—  Devil. 
Did my dark chains and torments fierce permit,  
I should rejoice to see Great Dives sit  
Here pined with anguish thirst, and cold,  
While my dear Friends consume his ill got Gold.  
How far you Sir? How like ye your remove?  
The Scene is altered, since you were above.  Diu. 
Ah me! What rueful sights? what squalid shapes,  
Of Bears, and Wolves, and Tigers, ugly Apes,  
Devouring Praetors; and that which is worse,  
Damned Furies foaming under heavens curse.  
Fire, fire, O fire! dreadful, sulphureous.  Devil. 
Such entertainment you must have with us.  Dives. 
I frieze, I fry, and cannot get way.  Devil. 
Stay, first for Purple, and fine Linen pay.  
You took on trust; your quintessence of blood  
Must be exchanged for the Styg'an flood.  
The pleasure you have had for some few years,  
Is ended, after which eternal tears  
Must have succession.  Diu. 
O! what glorious light  
Do I see, shining through the gloomy night;  
And place, with fairest Diamonds and Pearls  
Beset and floored, fit for none but Earls,  
Or such as I once was. What Sunlike Sage  
Is that? his face bespeaks him of great age.  
And who is that lieth in his glorious arms?  
Sure, 'tis some Cupid, who fond nature charms.  Devil. 
Nothing but Nature yet, I thought this load  
Of chains might have assured there was a God,  
Whose habitation is the place you see.  Dives. 
Then cursed be they, who have deceived me.  Devil. 
That ancien's Abr'am, and that glorious youth  
In's happy arms is Lazarus, whose mouth  
You once forbidden to show his wretched case,  
Or give the least relief Diu. Alas! alas!  
Will neither of them help me, if I cry.  Devil. 
'Twill but augment your torment, you may try.  Dives. 
Father, dear Father Abram, ease your Son,  
Who lieth in torment, else he is undone.  
My misery's so great, I cannot tell:  
But ah! too sure it is the fire of Hell,  
Which heretofore none could make me believe;  
Yet dearest Father (if you can) relieve  
Me from this torment, reach thy helping hand;  
If not, send Lazarus; who thy Command  
is ready to obey, and let him dip  
In cooling water, but his finger's tip,  
Which he upon my scorched tongue may drain,  
To quench this flame, which I cannot sustain.  Abr. 
Son be content, time was thou wouldst not see,  
(Without disdain) this poor man's misery.  
Nor wouldst give the crumbs fell from thy Table,  
To satisfy his Soul; when thou wast able,  
His fortunes to have raised, to such a pitch,  
That none but Dives might have been more rich:  
Then thou thy portion hadst while wretched he,  
Lay in distress; unpitied by thee.  
Dost not remember these things?  Diu. 
Yes, O Yes!  
Is this the cause I am deprived of bliss?  Abr. 
And good cause too, wherefore give o'er to grieve,  
There's none in Heaven or Earth can thee relieve.  
A fixed Gulf, betwixt us ever shall  
Unmoved stand; God's Justice, brazen wall;  
So that no heir of Heaven can come to thee,  
Nor thou to them, for ease of misery.  Dives. 
Then pray you send him to my Father's house,  
I have five Brethren there, are very lose;  
They're also feeding fat for this sad slaughter.  Abr. 
Tush, News from Heaven, will only make their laughter.  
For they who drowned are in earthly pleasure;  
Have this hard fate, ne●re to repent at leisure;  
Or mend that is amiss, but spend their day,  
In eating, drinking, rising up to play,  
Till they are fallen asleep: Their golden Dreams,  
●re never well interpreted, till Streams  
Of fire and brimstone from the higher powers,  
Rain on their heads for ever.  Diu. 
O, these Showers  
Would I were turned to some Marble Rock,  
Or had at first been made a senseless Block.  
Oh! that great hills and mountains might us swallow;  
Or that (like Bruits) I might for ever wallow  
On Earth, and have no other ' count to make.  Abr. 
Give o'er, give o'er, and these your torments take,  
A● from a just, and sin-revenging God,  
Who willed you once to bear a lighter load.  Diu. 
O! but my Brethren, Sir, know not my Doom.  Abr. 
They'll know't (I doubt) too soon, when they are come  
To that same place of torment where you are.  Diu. 
Then send, O send, Sir,  they go too far.  
Is not the gate of Heaven ope' while they live?  
They may repent, and God their sins forgive.  Abr. 
'Tis but in vain to send one from the dead,  
Seeing he can say no more, than may be read  
In Moses, Isai'▪ weeping Jeremy,  
And all the rest whose Inspirations be  
Divine. Then cursed wretch, thou must give o'er  
To cry, bidding Adieu for evermore  
To Heaven, where Lazarus must now remain  
With me, and thou in Hell's tormenting pain.   

The Rich Man's EPITAPH, FOR The EPILOGUE.  
HEre lieth the Man, who never did  
Good while he liv●d, nor Vice forbidden:  
Here lieth the Man, who to his Wealth,  
Trusted his Souls and Bodies health:  
Here lieth the Man, who out of measure,  
Glutted himself with beastly pleasure;  
For which his hungry Soul and dry,  
Is doomed eternally to fry  
In Hell. A warning unto those,  
Who in base Earth their trust repose.  
His Sentence past; let such give o'er,  
God's just still, as he was before.  
Avertat Deus hoc malum à nobis.  
FINIS.   

FIRE And Brimstone; OR, THE DESTRUCTION OF Sodom.  Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish. Luk. 13.3.  

The Persons.  

Prologus.  
Angel. God.  
Angels of God.  
Abraham.  
Sarah.  
Sodomites.  
Lot.  
Lot's Sons.  
Devil.  
Lot's Wife.  
Chorus.    

Prologus.  
IF any think my Buskin is too much,  
Like to satire; know, 'tis not a touch:  
If the Physician can a Gangrene kill,  
He must use Corrosives as well as skill;  
Else putrid matter will infest the part  
That's sound, till it hath seized on the heart:  
This is too often seen to be disapproved;  
Let not the courteous Reader then be moved,  
If I have laid the Axe to the Trees root,  
Thinking to fallen it. O! that I could do't.  
If Lot's Wife, who was led by Angel's hand,  
Scaped not God's Judgement, but doth Pillar stand  
Of Salt. And seeing Justice doth begin  
With House of God, must we not all fear sin?  
That Adam out of Paradise did cast;  
And after him, drowned the old World at last;  
That slaved Israel four hundred years;  
And costs each heaven-born Child much briny tears:  
What say I, tears? for it the Son of God  
Sweat drops of blood, and bore a heavy load  
Of wood, for's Cross, and then resigned his breath,  
That who believes might not taste second death.  
For it is Sodom burnt, our present Theme;  
We must beware of Sin, or bear the blame.  
If we give way, this Circe will bewitch  
The best. The fire's hot made of wood & pitch  
But hotter far, that's kindled by the breath  
Of Sin-revenging God, eternal death.   

FIRE and BRIMSTONE; OR, The Destruction of Sodom.  Angel, God, Abraham, Sarah, Angels. 
BEhold, how Sodom swaggers in its Pride,  
And Lust, and Gluttony! none is espied,  
That thoughts of Heaven have; or bow a knee:  
But one poor Stranger, who adoreth me.  
My Servant Lot: whose holy Soul they vex;  
Because there's no distinction made of Sex  
Nor age, But all promiscuously do go,  
Like Goats and Leopards that all they may know  
Each other. Come, we will go down and see,  
Those horrid facts; whose cry has come to me.  
I am the Holy One who sit above,  
My purer Eye cannot such things approve.  
The Soul that sinneth, it shall surely die.  
Awake my Just revenge; I'll down and try:  
If they my handy work who are but clay,  
Dare quarrel with their Potter and say nay:  
But we will do it. Who can us control?  
What profiteth Religion, since the Soul  
Is mortal as our flesh and cannot rise?  
Let's heap up sin on sin, and heaven despise.  
Put on your walking habits: Let us go  
And view the place, to see if it be so.  
Yet there's a trusty Friend lives in our way  
By Mamre Grove: there we must make some stay.  
See, Yonder is the place where Sun doth shine,  
Gild the Oaks whose tops seem to incline:  
To bid us welcome—  Angels. 
Eternal Son, true Daystar from on high,  
It is our honour that we may draw nigh  
So great a Light, and be employed by thee;  
To execute thy Will we ready be.  Ab. Sarah, Sa: 
My Lord.  Ab. 
Dost not see strangers come?  Sa. 
I do, I do, 'tis well you were at home.  Ab. 
Their gate bespeaks them great: I'll run and see,  
Walking on foot perhaps they weary be.  
Al-hail my Lord, if I have favour found  
With thee: pass not from off thy servant's ground,  
Until a little water fetched be  
To wash your Feet, and you under this Tree  
Rest for a while, it being almost noon;  
You shall go on as soon as Dinner's done:  
For therefore to your servant are ye come—  Ang. 
'Tis true! go quickly, do as thou hast said.  Ab. 
Up my dear Sarah now I lack thine aid,  
Of Meal three measures thou shalt dress: & knead,  
Cakes on the hearth make of it, we want bread;  
And I myself will bring a fatted Calf:  
Out of the herd; young man dress you its half.  
Bring Milk and Butter hither unto me:  
With Veal both roast and boiled; my Lord you see  
Your homely dinner, Let your Friends take place.  
Where the Almighty eats, there needs no grace.  
Accept such things as you are pleased to send  
To your poor Servant who will you attend.  Ang. 
These Favours I will certainly requite  
Upon thee and thy Wife who's out of sight.  
Where is thy Sarah? Is she not at home?  Ab. 
Yes, in the Tent.  Ang. 
Then why did she not come?  
For I intent, about this time next year  
To come again, and she shall surely bear  
A Son: though Abraham be old, and she  
Have no forerunner of a pregnancy.  Sar. 
Ha', ha', Is not this likely to be true?  
Have I been thus long Married to you,  
Without Conception? shall my nutted Breast;  
And barren Womb procure a cleansing Feast?  
No, I shall sooner far expect my grave:  
Than that such Pleasure you and I should have.  Ang. 
Hark; Sarah laughs, good Abra'm tell me why?  
She cannot be thy Wife; if she deny  
That the Almighty can all nature's laws  
Reverse, dilate, contract as he see's cause.  
Or thinketh she that any thing on Earth  
Can be too hard for him; who gave all breath?  
Once more I say I will return, and she,  
This time next Year, shall Joyful Mother be.  Sar. 
Alas! What shall I do? he did me spy  
Laughing, yet Woman-like I will deny,  
I did not laugh.  Ang. 
Nay, but thou didst, forbear:  
He cannot be deceived who's Eye and Ear.  
Arise, Let us go hence: a fearful stink  
Comes to my nostrils, from that filthy sink,  
Whose crying sins do hasten its decay.  Ab. 
Pray let your Servant bring you on your way.  Ang. 
Well Abraham, since thou hast served me  
So faithfully, nothing shall hidden be,  
Of all that I am now about to do,  
Here I will all relate before I go.  
For thou shalt surely a great Nation be:  
And all the World shall blessed be in thee,  
The Sin of Sodom's great, its dreadful Cry  
Hath long since sounded in my Ears, now I  
Am come to see: armed an angry Judge,  
Without repentance there is no refuge:  
But Fire and Brimstone from the Lord shall fall;  
And shall consume those cursed Cities all.  Ab. 
Wilt thou not then the righteous in it spare?  Ang. 
Thou knowst long since that great my Mercies are.  Ab. 
If there be Fifty righteous in the place,  
Shall not thy Justice run a slower pace?  
Art thou not of the World the holy Judge?  
If thou do otherways 'twill make men grudge:  
We do confess thou'rt infinite in Might:  
Yet let the Judge of all the World do right.  Ang. 
It Fifty in it be I will return:  
And for their sakes, I'll not at this time burn  
The Cities—  Ab. 
Since thou a gracious Ear dost to me lend,  
Who am but dust and ashes, I'll yet spend  
Some of the breath thou giv'st me, and desire,  
That if there want five, yet that dreadful fire  
May not be kindled.  Ang. 
If but five there lack  
Of fifty, I'll not burn it for their sake.  Ab. 
What if but forty, Lord, what wilt thou do?  Ang. 
For fourtie's sake I'll spare the Cities too.  Ab. 
I plead for mercy, let not anger burn:  
If thirty there be found, wilt thou return?  Ang. 
Yes.  Ab. 
But if twenty  

* Justi, Just Persons.  Just, do there remain?  Ang. 
For twenties sake, I also will refrain.  Ab. 
Let not my Lord be angry, this once more  
I'll speak, What if you find but half a score?  
Speak Lord, a grac'ous answer let me hear.  Ang. 
Even for Ten's sake I also will forbear.  
Now get thee home, I'll make no more delay,  
The Angels at Lot's house do for me stay.  Chorus. 

Mamre from henceforth let thy grove  
Renowned be, because Jehove  
Daigned to rest in thy cool shade,  
And with our Master Dinner had.  
Cake, Milk and Butter: savoury meat,  
Two Angels with their Lord did eat.  
Which done, Jehovah did requite  
Old Abram 's kindness: whose delight  
Is to refresh the weary Stranger,  
And to relieve the weak from danger.  
The fear of God he always keeps  
Sure, when he either wakes or sleeps.  
El-Shaddai in his faithful Eye,  
Is all-sufficient Treasury.  
He with the Lord a Covenant made,  
And he with him, Jehovah said:  
Walk me before and perfect be,  
Then I no good will hold from thee.  
Of Children thou complains, thy Wife,  
According to the time of life:  
At my return a Son shall bear,  
To usher in the next new Year.  
Our Mistress needs not doubt the thing,  
That's promised by Salem's King.  
Let her laugh on, but not distrust,  
What Heaven says fulfilled must  
Be, see how on her Marble face,  
A rich Vermilion taketh place;  
The Rose and Lily are at strife,  
Who shall have most in Abrams Wife:  
Her shaking hands and feeble knees,  
Put on their youthful Liveries.   

And is not Abram altered,  
Since t'other day the Angels fed  
At's Table? Doth not every feature  
In's Face, declare a God of Nature?  
Quick eye, quick ears, and nimble feet,  
Strong legs and arms, do not ye see't?  
'Tis said that Eggles only do  
Renew their age●●● Abra'm too.  
Go happy Couple; let your new  
Raised vigour unto the World show  
A resurrection from the dead,  
In both of you by promised seed.   

Isma'l thou must give o'er to hope,  
That thou shalt be our Fam'lies' prop:  
Thy Mother Hagar must forbear,  
O'er Abra'ms' Wife to domineer.  
It is not fit that hand-maid-drudges,  
Should be of Mistress actions Judges.  
If she intends to live in ease,  
She must her grieved Mistress please:  
And thou thy unborn Brother serve,  
Or be cast out o'th' house and starve;  
For we are sure to have an Heir;  
Of whose Flesh God will take a share:  
And in it die that we may live,  
To whom, Let's ever praises give.   Angels, Lot, Lot's Wife. Ang. 
Father pray tell us what is this Town's name?  Lot. 
'Tis sinful Sodom, too well known by fame,  
That hath already flown o'er earth to heaven.  Ang. 
Pray what a clock?  Lot. 
My Lords 'tis almost Even.  Ang. 
Can strangers any entertainment find?  Lot. 
Yes Sir with me (if you to stay have mind)  Ang. 
Is there no house in Town but yours that's civil?  Lot. 
None, none My Lords, all imitate the Devil.  Ang. 
Then what of this bad City will become?  Lot. 
If God be Just 'twil have a sudden doom.  Ang. 
What judgement's fittest thinkest thou for their Sin?  Lot. 
Brimstone and fire suits best those burned within:  
With lust unnatural,  Ang. 
If it should be so,  
What wilt thou do? thinkest thou to perish too?  Lot. 
No Sir, I do not, he whom I do serve,  
Will send his holy Angels to preserve  
Me; as from sin, so from the punishment,  
That from the heavens on Sodom will be sent.  
My Lords come in, we'll talk more in the house,  
For when night comes our streets are very lose.  
You shall this once take harbour here with me,  
Nor shall you leave my Cottage till you see  
Next morning Sun. Here's water, wash your feet,  
My Wife and Daughters shall take care for meat.  Ang. 
Sir your good nature merits well of us:  
Yet will the Street be better than the house,  
There we will stay.  Lot. 
My Lords that must not be:  
You shall have welcome, pray turn in with me,  
The ends I have upon you are but civil,  
Then if I urge, you must not take it evil.  
This is a cursed Town, and if you be  
Wronged in the street, the blame will lie on me.  
Wife try thy skill, see if thou canst persuade  
These men; we never yet such Lodgers had.  
If God in likeness of a man may be,  
The man that speaketh most must needs be he.  Lot's Wife. 
Husband were I such as the Town affords,  
I might invite them with such sugared words,  
As neither I nor they I think approve;  
Flattery I hate, if they become in Love,  
They will not pass our Door; come good my Lords,  
My civil actions shall confirm my words.  Ang. 
Your courteous invitations take a place  
With us.  Lot. 
My Lords I'm glad I have found grace,  
To Lodge such persons as you seem to be,  
And that you'll eat such victuals as you see.  Chorus. 

Our hearts are grieved to see  
Those Men in Jeopardy:  
Who Lodge with Father Lot,  
On him will lie a blot,  
Who doth them entertain:  
If they shall now sustain  
Any harm in the night,  
By the Sodomites might.  
The Town already knows,  
And have made bitter vows:  
That before the Sun rise  
They will secure the prize;  
If Heaven come to their aid,  
They will not be afraid.  
Where Lust doth rage and swell,  
There is no thought of Hell.   

No Monsters liker unto Devils be,  
Than men given up to filthy Sodomy.   Sodomites, Lots Sons, Lot, Angels. Sod. 
A prize, a prize! run, call the Town together,  
The beauties of World are now come hither:  
Come let's not lose this opportunity,  
At Lot the stranger's House, the Gallants lie.  
How canst thou tell? I saw them enter in;  Sons. 
Such persons to defile 'twill be a Sin:  
Besides the old man hath persuaded them  
To stay, if this be done; he'll bear the blame,  
Forbear.  Sod. 
You punies, you'll be Godly too,  
Is this the way you do his daughters woe?  Son. 
And we would have you so, could we persuade.  Sod. 
Ha', see how like they grow to their old Dad;  
Go get you hence, we'll make no more delay.  
Give o'er to plead, or you shall dearly pay  
For your sobriety; come out ye Rogue,  
Bring forth these strangers, do not time prorogue:  
We hear they're beauties, 'tis but what they own,  
Being within our Town, we must them know.  
See how he shuckes, old Rascal do not dally  
With us, nor time; see'st not the City rally  
About thy House? 'tis but in vain to think,  
That thou shalt eat our Bread or drink our Drink,  
And not submit thyself unto our Will.  Lot. 
All your requests (if just) I will fulfil.  
I hope these boyst'rous words are all but Jests.  Sod. 
Confounded Dog, bring forth thy handsome Guests,  
Or by our great God Priapus we swear,  
That we thy Body will in pieces tear.  Lot. 
My Lords, this rudeness is not strange to me,  
Be not dismayed, I will go out and see  
It my grave presence can make them give o'er,  
However after me I'll shut the Door.  
Brethren I do not understand your humour,  
What is the cause that ye make such a rumour  
I'th' street at this time, and about my Door?  
Neighbours be ruled, this wickedness give o'er.  
And if your Beastly lust cannot refrain,  
But that these strangers you with sin would slain;  
See here two Maids of mine who Virgins be,  
Use them at pleasure, and let these go free.  Sod. 
Rogue, runagate, slave, think not that thou must,  
Make such exchanges to restrain our Lust.  
Who made the'a Judge? If we be ruled by thee,  
Then must we bid adieu to Buggary.  
But hold, stand back, or we will break the Door.  Lot. 
Help, help, O help, these Villains press me sore.  Sod. 
Hark, this mad fellow thinks to have Rescue,  
Whence must it be? from Heaven I warrant you  
Heaven! help, indeed of that we're not afraid,  
Though it and Hell combine; their feeble aid  
Cannot reprieve the Prisoners within,  
We are not scared with punishment of sin.  
There Baldpate God-adoring Rascal, take yo● that;  strikes him 
How prettily he looks in's dimpled Hat?  
Now open to us.—  strikes again. Ang. 
Beloved of Heaven, we see thy willingness,  
To curb these wretches, and our grief redress;  
Come in to us, and we'll secure the Door;  
Blindness shall make these Brands of Hell give o'er.  Sod. 
He is a Devil, he'th bewitched me,  
And me, and me, and me, and me, and me.  
I'm blind, I'm blind, and cannot find the Door,  
By Heaven nor I, I fear we must give o'er.  
We see their God can help them in a straight,  
And cool our courage; let us leave his Gate,  
Begging him pardon; for if we stand still,  
He that hath struck us blind can also kill.  
Not I, for though I see not, I can fallen;  
And if I catch the old knave, I will deal  
Worse with him than before: In spite of Heaven,  
We may in time with him also be even;  
For if he does not open our Eyes again,  
He and all his to morrow shall be slain.  Ang. 
Besides thy Family, dost any pity,  
Daughters, or Sons-in-Law, within this City?  
●f any; call them, those we'll not annoy:  
But all the City else we will destroy,  
Because the cry is wax'n great, we must  
Reduce all Living in it into dust.  Lot. 
Sons now take warning, get you from this place  
Quickly, the Sun shall not twice run his race  
From East, to West, before destruction shall,  
(Reward of lust) on wicked Sodom fall.  
God saith it, and I'm sure it will be done,  
Sons if ye love your lives get ready soon,  
To go with me—  Sons. 
Sir, this you told all of us long ago,  
And yet nothing is come to pass you know;  
You old and fearful are, your brain is dry,  
Before that it be so, we shall espy,  
Unusual signs from Heaven if any be,  
Such things we may believe, but never thee.  Ang. Lot, 
God give thee good morrow, dost not spy.  
The Sun in this Horizon mounting high?  
Hast, get thee hence, with Daughters, Sons and Wife,  
Nothing that stays behind shall keep in life.  
You must out of the City speedily,  
Lest for its sin you all consumed be.  
Come there's no time to stay or look about,  
He that would not be burnt must get him out.  
Why do you linger? pray give me your hand.  
Yours Madam, pray give me, we cannot stand;  
Your God is merciful and full of pity,  
And hath sent us to bring you out o'th' City.  Ang. Deus. 
Escape for thy life, shake off all Worldly cares,  
When God afflicts, all such things are but snares;  
Trust not to humane help, 'tis I who fight,  
And nothing's able to resist my might.  
Go look straight forward, if thou turn thy back,  
Or any that is thine, than I will make  
Thee feel the smart of my afflicting Rod.  
Fly to the Mountains, lest Almighty God  
Consume thee with the City.  Lot. 
Not so Lord,  
Since I believe according to thy word,  
And have found grace in saving of my Life,  
As likewise have these two poor Girls and Wife.  
Into the Mountain's Lord, I cannot fly,  
●est there some evil take me, and I die;  
Add to thy former favours out of pity,  
Leave for to fly unto the neighbouring City;  
'tis but a little one, my Lord it give  
Into thy Servant, and his Soul shall Live.  Ang. 
Dear friend, to show thee what respect I bear,  
●o thee and all thy Servants, this I hear,  
●nd grant what thou desirest; fly in haste  
●o thy entreated shelter: while thou'rt past  
●he City Wall, my powerful hands are bound  
With cords of Love, while thou art on this ground  
Although my Just revenge doth burn and chafe  
scan do nothing, till thou art come safe  
●o Zoar.—  Chorus. 
Cursed be the day when we,  
This stranger first did see.  
Cursed be the mouth that spoke  
To us, that we should take  
This wretch within our Walls,  
Who Studieth our falls.  
And hath with Heav●n conspired,  
That Sodom may be fired:  
There is no remedy,  
We must destroyed be.  
Come, yet let's endeavour,  
To get the Rogue's favour.  
If he will but once pray,  
We're sure Heaven will stay  
His hand, and will revoke  
This sad and fatal stroke.  
Rise, let us to his Gate,  
(Perhaps it's not too late)  
And give his guests good words,  
The best Sodom affords:  
If these do not take place,  
Then there will be no space  
Between us and the fire:  
Taugh! I must now retire,  
Here's such a loathsome smell,  
That nothing (if not Hell)  
Can the same parallel.  Angel-God, Sodomites, Devil, Lot, Lot's Wife. Ang. 
The Sun shines bright, and Let almost at home  
In Zoar, now must Sodom have its doom;  
Gomorah also Admah and Zeboim,  
The fifth, I will reserve as yet for him.  
Awake my Justice, and let dreadful streams,  
Of F and Brimstone darken the Sunbeams;  
Once more let heavens Windows opened be,  
That Lot may fire (as Noah water) see.  
Shut up those bowels full of mercy are,  
And neither young nor old i'th'Cities spare.  
Raise thickest Smoke, and make a sulphurous smell,  
That living, they may know the pains of Hell.  
Perhaps it may warn all those that come behind,  
To know, and walk according to my mind;  
If not, while I am just they must be sure,  
Those, or such dreadful torments to endure.  
He that sheds blood, with blood must punished be,  
For lust and anger fire's the destiny.  
I'll stamp my curse on all things for their sake,  
This fruitful plain shall be a stinking Lake.  
If any fruit for ever after grow,  
It shall not be for Food, but only show.  Sod. 
Oh heavens! I'm choacked with Smoak,  
I'm burned with fire,  
O Brimston, Brimston! Where shall we retire?  
We die, we die, O may this be the last  
Of heavens dreadful Sentence on us past!  
We're burned and damned, there is no remedy;  
We would not hear Lot, when he bid us fly  
From wrath to come. O how our Limbs do crack  
With fire! Our Conscience is upon the rack  
For bypast Crimes; our beastly Lusts Torment  
Us, as the precious time that we have spent.  
O wretched Nature, whither hast thou brought  
Us Fools, and made us sell our Souls for nought?  
Luxurious Eyes, why were ye so unkind,  
To dote on objects, who have made you blind?  
And you Tenacious hands, why did you grasp  
The Poison of the Spider? Why from Wasp  
Did you seek Honey? did not Heaven bestow,  
As upon Lot, so also upon you,  
The Lawful helps, and remedies for lust?  
Was not all this enough? but that you must  
In spite of Heaven, lay hold on all that came,  
Although they man his members had or name.  
Can not a lawful Wedlock satisfy  
Thy burning flame, proud flesh? No, thou must cry  
Bring out thy handsome Guests, them we must know,  
Not knowing that they were not from below▪  
Whose Just revenge doth make us miserable,  
To bear these scorching flames we are not able.  
And yet alas! our woe doth but begin,  
The vengeance is Eternal that's for sin.  
O that Lot's God would grant us a reprieve  
But for one hour, that wretched we might live,  
To wail our bypast sins; and beg his aid,  
Who never yet to humble sinner said,  
I scorn your plaints, but always graciously  
Prepared a bottle for a melting Eye.  
And piece-meal Prayers made whole with his own merit,  
Sa'ing be comforted, 'tis you must inherit  
My endless Joy; which sentence now doth pierce  
Our Souls so much, that we cannot rehearse  
Our woes, though Oh! alas! it is too late,  
We must expect nought but Almighty's hate.  
See how the Devils laugh, whom we have served:  
O cursed Spirits ited this we have deserved  
From you, for all those things that we have done  
At your Command?  — Devil. 
Give over, blame not me;  
You know I did but only gratify  
Your own desires, I never could command,  
Or force your wills; this the Almighty's hand  
Was only able to effect, but ye  
With your unbounded wishes wearied me.  
You made the Tinder, then from me begged fire;  
Halfpenny what ye did, was never my desire.  
You sought the newest ways to damn your Souls,  
For which we Devils do account you Fools.  
Your state might have been happy when at worst,  
If you had not me, and your Natures forced.  
If we Apostates had such promises,  
And helps as you; No sinful false surmises  
Of feigned fruition (of I know not what)  
Should e'er have made us spirits forfeit that,  
You were assured of by Heaven's word;  Viz. 
Whosoever turned unto the Lord,  
Should have their crimson sins made white as Snow;  
Their Scarlet ones like Wool; and what they owe  
Canceled out of God's omniscience Book,  
Even all sins trumpery, that they ever took  
On trust: and after death should all receive,  
Glory in Heaven, as much as they could crave.  
Did not your consciences many times  
Speak, when you acted these unheard of Crimes?  
Then why did ye not say Tempter forbear?  
This, this ye did not, being void of fear,  
Of either heavens anger, or of Hell,  
Till scorching flames of a Sulphureous smell,  
Forced you on former actions to reflect,  
Which heretofore you ever did neglect.  
This you will find a good Apology,  
When you to heavens Tribunal called be;  
Then you shall hear what I already said,  
That if you had implored th'Almighty's aid,  
He would at all points, so have armed you,  
As all my fiery Darts should ever bow  
And never pierce, But since your free election  
Was sin, you must not grudge at your rejection.  
You are my Prisoners, and Hell your place,  
Where you shall never see the blessed Face  
Of God in mercy, but for ever must,  
Burn with his wrath, for your unnatural Lust.  Lot. 
Come Wife, why dost thou tarry so behind?  Wife. 
I am a Woman, can I be unkind?  
Have we not dwelled in Sodom several years?  
Can I behold its flames, and not shed Tears?  Lot. 
When Heaven is angry, we must be so too,  Wife. 
Ah Husband! flesh and blood this cannot do.  Lot. 
But flesh and blood shall not inherit bliss,  
This truth we fully see confirmed in this  
Sad fire.  Wife. 
O Husband, Husband! see the smoke,  
The Town is fired.  Lot. 
No, it will provoke  
My God, who hath his mercy magnified,  
To grieve, that I not with the City died.  Wife. 
I must look back, let come of it what will,  
What God hath promised he will fulfil.  
I shall not die.  Lot. 
Fond Woman say not so,  
Thou must perform conditions, if thou go  
Alive to Zoar.  Wife. 
O! I'm senseless struck.  Lot. 
Who break God's precepts ne'er have better luck.  Wife. 
Help Husband  I die, I fixed stand,  
My mouth is full of Salt.  Lot. 
It is God's hand  
That strikes; his blessed will I'll not control,  
However, Lord have mercy on her Soul.  Chorus. 

Beware of Sin, for God abhors  
Impenitents, and all their scores,  
With pen of Iron graves in stone,  
Which he'll produce when time is done.  
Of vengeance if you would be free,  
Beware of Lust and Gluttony.  
This drowns the Soul, that doth it kill,  
Though Christ for it his blood did spill.  
The man that doth attempt the Crown,  
Deserves not to have kindness shown.  
Christ's honour is his Crown, yet we  
From time to time attempters be;  
Though he be patiented and forbears,  
As witness his jerusalem Tears;  
Yet at the last, when he doth come  
With all his Angels; then our doom  
(With Majesty) he shall repeat,  
When we can neither Bribe nor Cheat  
The Judge, nor Jury; but submit  
To those that hurry to the Pit;  
Where we must be deprived of bliss,  
If we make Sin our business.   

Then let us look on Sodom's flames, and say,  
From Sodom's sins, deliver Lord we pray.   
FINIS.   

Abraham's FAITH.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Mark. 9.23.  

The Persons.  

Prologus.  
Hagar, Abraham's Handmaid.  
Ishmael, Hagar's Son.  
Abraham.  
Sarah.  
Isaac.  
Angel.  
Midwife.  
Devil.  
Faith.  
Flesh.  
Despair.  
Abraham's Servants.  
Chorus.  
Epilogue.    

Prologus.  
FRet not to see a Tragicomedy,  
Written by one, who thinks no shame to be  
All things to all men, Pedant, Player, Fool,  
Provided he may gain a Sinsick Soul;  
And bring him back to his first Love and Lord,  
Using no other Spell than heavens word.  
The Atheist I do first Court and say,  
Sir, you're invited to our homely Play;  
Where, if you look with Abraham's faithful eye,  
You mercy in a Mystery may spy.  
The disobedient Child, I do invite  
To come, and view with me this happy sight.  
Young Isaac, who submitteth to the knife  
Of Abraham, from whom he first had life.  
The tender Mother may also draw near,  
And hear or read these Lines and never fear,  
Abra'm by God must only tried be,  
The Boy by him, and then delivery  
From Heaven will come, or if the World's worthies,  
Will deign a look, or stoop to catch such flies  
As I have brought; or can spare any time,  
From greater matters to read humble Rhyme,  
They're welcome. Sick men also from their beds  
May come, and have a Pillow for their heads.  
He that is fit to hang himself may come,  
Here is a Ram already in his Room.  
In fine, of all sorts, comers welcome be,  
To see heavens Wisdom, power, Philanthropy.   

Abraham's Faith,  Hagar, Ishmael, Abraham, Sarah, Midwife. Hag. 
ALas poor Boy, our comfort now is o'er!  
I never knew what 'twas to grieve before.  
How often have I solaced in the Arms  
Of thy dear Father? Oh! but now the charms,  
Printed by Heaven upon my Mistress face  
Are , alas! alas!  Ism. 
Why Mother, why? was it not always so?  
Hag, No Child, thou'rt ignorant, thou dost not know;  
It is not long since Old-age and despair  
Of Issue, made herself account me fair,  
And recommend me to my dearest Lord;  
Though now her piercing looks, as sharpest Sword  
Cut what they see. We, we are both undone,  
She must enjoy old Abraham alone.  Ism. 
But Mother, Sarah hath no Children yet.  Hag. 
I know she hath not, but the time is set  
For her deliv'ry; and 'twill be a Boy,  
To disinherit thee, the only joy  
Of me thy Mother.  Ism. 
Disinherit me  
He cannot, unless Law perverted be:  
The Primogeniture I'm sure is mine,  
Which no man shall persuade me to resign,  Hag. 
I'm but the Handmaid, Sarah is the wife;  
These very words may breed an endless strife  
I'th' Family: and Mistress without doubt,  
Will study means whereby to cast us out.  Sar. 
My Lord can you the glories of my face  
Behold and not admire? Can there be place  
In your grave Breast, for any other flame  
Beside that kindled from my Eyes? then tame  
Your strange desires; and let your lawful Bed  
Bound your caresses. Know that you are Wed  
To Sarah now, who ceaseth to be dead  
And barren as before: View her from head  
To foot, her features and her limbs mark well,  
And if these please not, see her Belly swell.  
One Child from Heaven may balanced be with two,  
That come by Nature's law, and mine is so.  Abr. 
Dearest of Wives, this new thought on discourse,  
Seemeth to rise from some malicious source.  
What is thy will? or what dost thou desire?  
Would you have fuel added to the fire  
That Heaven hath kindled? Dear what dost require?  Sar, 
That you shake off your Handmaids, and Love me,  
Is all I crave; I will not Rivalled be.  
Kind Husbands when their Wives in my condition  
Be, (for the most part) do with full submission  
Harken to them, fearing untimely birth.  Abr. 
Well Sarah, well, you are disposed for mirth.  Sar. 
'Tis mirth to you, but I must feel the sorrow,  
I think I shall be brought to Bed to morrow.  
Go, call the Midwife, I am very bad;  
I never yet such Griping torture had,  Abr. 
Cheer up my dearest, when thou see'st the Boy,  
'Twill banish grief, and ravish thee with joy.  
When Males are born the trouble is forgot,  
And thine will be a Boy I question not.  Sar. 
Pray for me Husband, this is a sharp bout.  Abr. 
He who hath promised, he will help thee out.  
Midwife what news?  Mid. 
You have a lovely Child,  
Thank Heaven your expectation's not beguiled.  Sar. 
Take him my Lord, this Boy will make you glad.  Abr. 
It is the best that e'er my dearest had,  
Here, take ye him, 'tis time that he were fed.  Mid. 
Nay hold as yet my Lord, 've forfeited.  Abr. 
Forfeited, what?  Mid. 
Good Sir, a Midwives fee.  Abr. 
Here take the Child, and I will give it thee.  
Here.  Mid. 
Sir I thank you, when I women lay  
Of their first born, I see I double pay;  
The next my Lady hath, my Lord will hold  
His hand, and will not part with so much Gold.  Abr. 
I am no Niggard if that time do come,  
I promise thee to give a bigger sum.  Mid. 
My Lord I'm but in Jest, yet may you have  
A numerous issue, if you nothing gave.  Sar. 
Husband you know I laughed heretofore,  
Have not I reason now, as many more;  
Then from my laughter let him have his name.  Abr. 
I called him Isaac, is not that the same?  Sar. 
My Lovely Babe, come let me suckle thee.  
There is no Mortal can more joyful be.  Chorus. 

heavens mind fulfilled,  
And Sarah stilled.  
O how she longed,  
And said I'm wronged.  
No Wife like me,  
Who Abra'ms be:  
All have their Joys,  
Their Babies-toys.  
I'm only she,  
Who barren be.  
New, now her Breasts  
Are made two Nests,  
For harbouring  
The loved Offspring,  
Of her dear Lord,  
At Heaven's word.  
And more she may  
Have that same way.  
God's promises  
To us are bliss.  
No Art avails,  
When Heaven fails.  
His blessings he  
Bestowed, than she  
Got blown Saills.   

If any after Children want, they may  
For remedy, with her to Heaven pray.   Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Angel. Ab. 
Dear heart methinks this Boy hath sucked too long.  Sar. 
What? and hath neither Feet nor Tongue  
 he be weaned he must a Footman be,  
To run and prattle up and down with thee.  
Now do your pleasure.  Ab. 
Call our friends together,  
He must not be a burden to his Mother.  Isa. 
Mam if I lose my pap the Child will cry.  Sar. 
Yes pretty thing thou must, or Mam will die:  
O! how it snugs and sleeps upon my Breast;  
Poor rogue, I'm sure of all he loves me best.  
Here, thou shalt have thy bubby one month longer,  
 that be o'er my Chicken may be stronger:  
And if that will not do, He give'm another,  
No Love is like to that of a dear Mother.  
Come dry Nurse, take the Child and use him well,  
Thy care of him, shall make thee ever dwell  
With me in plenty. Abram see the scorn  
Of Hagar's Brat, that in my house was born;  
If you deceive not Heaven which counts you just,  
You must him and his Mother both, out thrust;  
Because the Rog●e in years hath got the start,  
He strives with Isaac for an equal part  
In thy estate, but it must not be so;  
If me and mine you Love, pray let them go.  Ab. 
What change of humours all you Women have!  
It is not long since you the handmaid gave,  
And said, of her you shall raise seed to me;  
I thought this was enough to make her free  
I'th' house, but now I see 'tis otherways,  
Favours of this kind, have sudden decays.  
However your desire I will fulfil;  
Hagar be gone, it is thy Mistress will.  Ang. 
Well said my friend, for I desire the same,  
Thy Family must from Isaac have its name,  
And blessing too. Ab. Thy will I shall obey;  
Come Sirs, get up and make no more delay:  
The Lord commands, whose laws are all to me  
Just, though contrary they to nature be.  
This Bread and Water take, and so go hence,  
You have abused your Mistress patience;  
Though I know nothing, I must not control,  
This peevish humour grieves my very Soul.  Chorus. 
Each day hath its succeeding night,  
Clouds sometimes darken the Sun's light.  
The Flowers that florid are to day,  
Tomorrow Frost nips quite away.  
Youth like a shadow flies, and age  
Saith, 'tis my turn to tread the Stage.  
Life must give place to grim-faced Death,  
There's nothing fixed made of Earth.  
But all dance round and Circle make,  
While one another's place doth take.  
The passions likewise have their turns,  
One Breast with Love and Hatred burns.  
One's sad, and merry, Melancholy,  
And all sometimes, are counted folly.  
Honours and pleasures are so brittle,  
That most wise men esteem them little.  
In fine there's nought but thoughts of Heaven,  
That bringeth Wages home at Even.  Angel, Abraham, Devil, Faith, Flesh, Despair. Ang. 
Abra'm my faithful Servant, dost thou hear?  
I must give thee a visit once a year;  
I●ave found thee perfect always hitherto,  
And now I am come, to try if thou wilt do  
What I command thee, without stay or grudge;  
Remember, once thou called me righteous Judge.  Ab. 
I'm here, speak Lord, thy Servant hears and will  
Count all thy precepts Just, and them fulfil.  Ang. 
What couldst thou freely part withal for me?  Ab. 
What could I not? since I have all from thee.  Ang. 
Then thou must take thy Son, thine only Son,  
And sacrifice him; so my will is done.  
The Mount Moriah's fittest for thy turn,  
There thou shalt lead young Isaac, and him burn;  
This action, Abraham, will please me well.  Ab. 
My Lord if you command, I'll go to Hell.  Devil. 
Fond fool give o'er, Religion makes thee mad,  
heavens Minions never yet rejoicing had  
Without a damp; their sweet is mixed with sour,  
It is not possible for humane power,  
To act what he commands, being as strict  
As those, who bid men without straw make brick.  Faith. 
Give o'er thou murdering Spirit, do not delude,  
The friend of God, all whose commands are good,  
If he should fear or fret at his desire,  
Thou canst not keep him from a fiercer fire  
Than he is bid to kindle for his Son,  
That's Brimston, and will last when this is done;  
And yet will be no pleasing Sacrifice  
To God nor him, do Abraham and be wise.  Flesh. 
What Father ever yet so cruel was,  
To Murder his own Child without a cause?  
View but these Limbs and features of his face,  
His sparkling Eyes, than there will be no space  
Left in thy hardened heart, for cruelty;  
A faithful man will never Butcher be  
Of humane Bodies—  Faith. 
Faint flesh, those Eyes and Features are but toys,  
That fade with time and age, there's greater Joys  
Laid up for Isaac, immortality;  
What needs thou care then if he burned be?  
Besides, hast thou not heard how Phoenix rare,  
Burned to ashes, doth herself repair  
Out of the same, being first a little Worm?  
If thou believe, thou needest not fear this storm.  Despair. 
Thou canst not be beloved of God, since he  
Bids thee perform such monstrous cruelty:  
They say he's merciful, if it be so,  
Thou may'st lie still and never think to go  
To Mount Moriah, whom he loves, he loves;  
But this command, rather his hatred proves.  Faith. 
This is an old tone, and bespeaks thee fool;  
Know, that he hath given every man his Soul,  
Which, if he back again from him requires,  
By Famine, Sword, or Pestilence, or Fires;  
'Tis never to destroy that he doth this,  
But for removal to Eternal bliss.  Ab. 
Give o'er, give o'er, now it is almost day,  
I will no more dispute. Believe and pray  
I will, for success on my loved host,  
I spend but time, my God is at the cost;  
He gave me Isaac, and desires that he  
In fire and flames should from the Altar be,  
Sent whence he came—  Sarah, Abraham, Servants. Sar. 
My Lord I fear you have a troubled head,  
For I could scarcely hold you in your Bed:  
Tell me your Dream, it fearful is I'm sure,  
For I have Dreamt too, and can't endure  
Now when awake, no not to think of it:  
I saw a Bow from Heaven, bend and hit  
My darling.  Ab. 
Sarah then our Dreams are one,  
God bids me go and burn my little Son.  Sar. 
Burn him? alas! I see I laughed too soon,  
Then must my hopes and comforts all be gone.  Ab. 
Peace Sarah, it is God requires the Lad,  
And he shall have him, if I twenty had.  
Can I bestow them better, than to give  
My Maker all? in whom I move and live.  Sar. 
My Lord 'tis but a Dream, as yet forbear,  
Such things require a double Messenger.  Ab. 
Dearest thou knowst my Dreams are always true,  
Though such a Dream as this I never knew.  
However, honey, let us with submission  
Part with the Lad, obeying heavens commission;  
His power is great, so is his mercy too,  
Thou knowst not what he is about to do:  
For I may safely with the Boy return;  
And if I do not, there's no cause to mourn,  
We are but as were, and he another  
May give, whom thou may'st call Isaack's Brother.  
The promiser is all-sufficient,  
We can have no just cause then to repent  
Our Piety, which always promise hath,  
Of grace and freedom from Eternal Death.  Sar. 
My Lord he is your own, and God your Friend,  
Obey him, mean while I will Prayers send  
For him to Heaven, as soon as you are gone,  
And beg he may not give me cause to moan,  
Who laughed before.—  Ab. 
Go Saddle me my Ass, and two of you  
Must go with me, where yet I do not know.  
Call my Boy softly, tell him he must rise,  
To see his Father offer Sacrifice.  
Go to the Log-pile, and choose out some wood,  
Cleave none for use, but that's exceeding good.  Ser. 
Sir all is ready.  Ab. 
Sarah far thee well,  
Still hope in God, the Lad may live and dwell  
Again with thee his Mother, till he come  
To man's ' state: or another in his room.  Sar. 
My doubts are over, may the Lord direct  
You in your Journey, for if he protect,  
Or kill the Boy, I shall leave to complain;  
Perhaps he doth intent a greater gain,  
Than either you or I as yet expect;  
Kiss me dear Child, and thou my God effect  
The present work, my Husband is but clay,  
And may stretch out his hand another way  
Than is thy will; again kiss me my Son,  
Then go with courage, heavens will be done.  Ab. 
Behold my Servants, do not you espy,  
Above the rest, a hill stands very high?  
I and my little man must yonder go,  
Mean while abide ye here.  Ser. 
My Lord why so?  
May we not bear our Master company?  Ab. 
No, If ye did perhaps yeed hinder me,  
From acting th'highest piece of Piety,  
That ever yet was heard, or seen with Eye.  Ser. 
Have we not seen the Sacrifice before?  Ab. 
'Tis true, and yet in this will be much more  
Faith, Resolution, needful, than when I  
For smaller matters Sacrifice or pray.  Ser. 
Good my Lord, let us go to see the sight.  Ab. 
No, no, I cannot, it will you affright.  Ser. 
We must contented be and you obey,  
Hoping you will not from us make long stay.  Ab. 
I will return assoon as I have done,  
'Twill be no pleasure to stay there alone.  Ser. 
Alone you cannot be, this little Boy  
Can make a Wilderness a place of joy.  Ab. 
But I must leave him there my God commands.  Ser. 
First dearest Master tie your Servants hands;  
For we will sooner far resolve to die,  
Than see you actor of such cruelty.  
This is in jest.  Ab. 
No, I must Sacrifice  
The Boy, Heaven bids me, who I'm sure is wife;  
If I do freely act what he commands,  
He either will approve, or hold my hands.  
Tnink you that I can any other thing  
Value above my All-sufficient King?  
No no, it is his mind an't shall be mine,  
In spite of all who 'gainst it do combine.  
I think his Mother hath the greatest cause,  
Who willingly submits to heavens Laws;  
Bidding me act what my good God hath said,  
For proof thereof, she him encouraged,  
To suffer valiantly—  Ser. 
Sir, We are not to quest'on your intent,  
Being our Master; but a good event  
We will implore.  Ab. 
Come, come my pretty boy,  
This cloudy day may end in Sunshine Joy.  
Take up the Wood my Son, I knife and fire,  
We must fulfillers be of heavens desire.  Chorus. 
Eternal Wisdom, when he made  
Sun, Moon and Stars, to each he said,  
Take you your turns; you must the day  
Govern, and you your Sceptre sway  
I'th' night, when men are gone to rest,  
And think to sleep with quiet Breast.  
This is heavens Laws, and yet we see,  
That men then most unquiet be.  
Abram from Heaven hears a voice,  
Which quickly marred his new made joys.  
It bids him go and burn his Son,  
Which is no sooner said than done,  
And Sarah who in all men's thought,  
Would have Abraham counted nought,  
For harbouring such cruelty  
In's Breast, as he should Butcher be  
To his own Child; contents and says,  
Husband we may have happy days  
When Isaac 's gone, then why should we,  
Strive Abraham's hinderers to be?  
Go on Sir, let your high desire,  
Be hallowed with heavens fire.  Isaac, Abraham, Angel, Epilogue. Isa. 
O Father, Father, one thing yet we lack,  
〈◊〉 Lamb for offering  forgot to take.  
●hall I run back and make a quick return?  Ab. 
No, no, you need not, that which I must burn  
God will provide; come let us go together,  
●e find a Lamb, my Boy, when I come thither.  Isa. 
Doth any clean Beast pasture on that hill?  Ab. 
That work which God gins he will fulfil.  
●ut hark my Child, dost thou not fear my God;  Isa. 
Why doubt you that?  Ab. 
Then this thy load of Wood  
Must thee consume.—  Isa. 
But Father, doth your God such Sacrifice equire?  Ab. 
It seems so now.  Isa. 
Father be wise,  
The devil can change into a Saint of light,  
May be 'twas he that called you in the night.  Ab. 
No Child, God's promise goeth far with me,  
Who faith, that none shall ever tempted be  
Above what they are able; I do not fear,  
Nor needest thou to shed a guiltless tear.  Isa. 
My tender limbs will ne'er endure the heat.  Ab. 
He'll send his Angels to wipe off the sweat.  Isa. 
My dearest Father, is your heart so hard?  
Can nothing this your enterprise retard?  Ab. 
Nothing my Child, though I be full of love,  
And grieve to kill thee, yet since my Jehove  
Commands; My faith doth overcome my sense,  
And makes me with humanity dispense.  
Boy thou must die.  Isa. 
I'm glad it is for God.  Ab. 
None other should have made me lay this load  
On isaack's tender shoulders. Now my Child  
We're at the place where I must Altar build.  
Dig up the Turf, and let us raise the Earth.  Isa. 
Ah Father I'm already out of Breath.  
The thoughts of Death, with the Sun's melting heat  
O'recometh me, Oh see how I do sweat!  
Is't done enough?  Abra. 
Not yet, it must b● higher,  
That all the ashes may fall from the fire.  
Now 'tis enough, come Child, bring me the Woo●  Isa. 
'Tis here my Father.  Ab. 
It is very good  
All's done so far, my Boy thou must be bound.  Is. 
Your will be done: O that I may not swoon!  
But with undaunted courage yield my breath,  
To him who power hath of life and death.  
●t is my Maker's will and I submit,  
●oping by him to be kept from the pit  
infernal: He will raise me up again,  
With Saints and Angels ever to remain.  
behold my hands! I'll fold them for your ease.  Ab. 
Son, knew I any way my God to please,  
〈◊〉 would not touch thee.  Isa. 
I am now grown strong,  
●nd valiant too, I count this death no wrong.  Abr. 
Thou must get up before I bind thy feet.  Isa. 
Sir, that your will I should perform is meet.  
●ow bind not hard, I will not struggle much,  
●ut dearest Father, kill me at first touch,  
●he knife is sharp enough and you are strong.  Ab. 
Dear Child I tremble, and may strike thee wrong.  Isa. 
Hold Father but a little, let me pray  
〈◊〉 Heaven, and first Lord teach me what to say.  
●y God look on me with a tender Eye,  
●nd pardon all my sins of Infancy;  
●●en my Eyes before the knife come down,  
●hat while I live, I may leap at the Crown  
●epar'd for Martyrs. Lord let me inherit,  
●e blessings promised by thy holy Spirit.  
●all, call thy Angels to receive that Soul,  
●ho ne'er as yet did willingly control  
Thy will. Sir, now strike on, for I have done.  Ab. 
No, I must pray too,  I can go on.  
O All-sufficient whose purer Eye,  
Look'th with abhorrence on all cruelty;  
Accept this Sacrifice, make strong my arm,  
Since thou best knowst that I intent no harm  
To my dear Child, but that I may the name,  
Receive (when done) of faithful Abraham.  
Lord I believe, raise feeble hand and heart  
To give the blow—  
Now Child I strike. Here. O! who holds m● Arm?  Ang. 
Stay Abram, stay, and do not any harm  
Unto thy Son, I minded but to try,  
If I could in thy faith a flaw espy.  
Look but behind thee, there's the Sacrifice,  
Lay hold of it, and let young Isaac rise;  
I'm sure thou lov'st me 'bove each Earthly thing  
Since thou wast willing to make offering  
Of thy own flesh: Touch not the hopeful Boy,  
But let him to his Mother go with Joy.  
This Ram thou shalt instead of him up offer,  
I never did intent that he should suffer.  Ab. 
The best of news that ever yet were hear  
For though I did believe, I greatly feared.  
But blessed be God, and let him ever be,  
As Abraham's so also God to thee;  
Let no distrust for ever Lodge within  
Thy Breast, thou'rt Type of him who must for  
Be offered really; is it not best  
To go unto the Servants?  Isa. 
There's no haste.  
Before approaching death I prayed, and now  
Restored again, I'll at the Altar bow.  
He that is freed from danger ought with speed,  
To bless the hand that helped him in his need.  Ab. 
Do happy Child, and I will second thee;  
●oynt Prayers welcome unto Heaven be.  Isa. 
Lord let me ever with all thankfulness  
Adore thy name, since thou didst not oppress,  
With grief my Mother, but hast saved me,  
That I to her may greatest comfort be  
●n old age, when my Father's hoary head,  
shows to the World that he is almost dead.  
●id me thy will perform, I'll never grudge,  
Being persuaded thou'rt a righteous Judge.  Ab. 
Lord I can say no more than I have said,  
Who thee implores shall ne'er want timely aid.  
Thy Arm is strong, Eyes quick and always ready,  
●o ease his Burden, who doth carry steady;  
〈◊〉 have endeavoured, and my weak intention,  
Hath met with mercy, heavens condescension.  
FINIS.   

EPILOGUE.  
IF any thing in these few sheets be found,  
May burn the thorn, or prick the stony ground.  
If any thing the way-side-corn doth gather,  
To Sowed in good, then, than my Heavenly Father,  
The Meat is right, if not spoiled by the Cook;  
If so, the squeamish may forbear to look  
Upon it. If any hunger starved be,  
Eat hearty, it will not surfeit thee.  
If any Gentleman or Lady find,  
Ought in this Poem fitteth not their mind;  
They may repair unto some fatter Soil,  
Where they may have their lukewarm hearts mad boil  
With love and valour, (Imps of flesh and blood)  
I no such ware, but here is that's as good.  
And love, and valour too, yet such as will  
Not hurt the lover, nor the valiant kill.  
They love and fight, and yet both victors be.  
Abra'm and God. This Tragicomedy,  
Pleased myself, when I it undertook,  
And pleased my friends, when they on it did look;  
But if it please not others, let them cast  
It out of Doors, perhaps it may be the last,  
That they shall see of mine in such a stile,  
For this I'll neither Plaudite, beg, nor smile.  
FINIS.   

JOSEPH REVIVED. OR, The Twelve last Chapters of Genesis Metaphrazed.  
Containing the LIFE and DEATH Of Holy JOSEPH.  
By GEORGE LESLY, Minister of Wittering in Northamptonshire.  And we know that all things work together for good to them that Love God, Rom. 8.28. 
LONDON, ●rinted for the Author, and are to be sold by Charles Smith at the Angel near the Inner Temple gate, Fleetstreet. 1678.   

Imprimatur,  
Gul. Jane S.T.B. Reverend. in Christo Patri D no. Henrico Episc. Lond. à Sacris Domesticis. Jan. 17. 1675.   

To the Right Worshipful WILL. WYMONDESOLD, ESQUIRE, Mr. EDMUND, Mr. RICHARD, Mr. MATTHEW, and Mr. THOMAS his Brethren; with their truly Virtuous Mother and Sisters.  
Worthy Sirs and Ladies,  
BEING about to throw my Mite into the Public Treasury, to plant a tender VINE in the Lord's VINEYARD, I thought you fittest to fence it with Your favourable Aspects, who are not only almost equal in Number but Virtues, to those Sacred Patriarches, whose History I have metaphrazed. The Meeter is like myself, dull and despicable, but the Matter is of Divine Inspiration, which juires Your acceptance by Heaven's Authority, while as the other only lets the World know, that I am,  
YOURS, Extraordinary obliged, GEO. LESLY. Wittering, Jan. 7. 1675/ 6.   

TO THE READER.  
IF Heaven be pleased to dart his glorious Rays  
Into my Soul, let others take the Bays,  
Who climb Parnassus and Mount Helicon  
For airy Notions, while I at the Throne  
Of Mercy beg an understanding Heart  
To measure out what Moses did impart  
To th' World, concerning Jacob and his Seed,  
'Mong whom a Dream did great dissension breed.  
Though God inspired the Prophet from above,  
And he (poor Heart) revealed all in love,  
Whose harmless Vision counted was a crime,  
And so (perhaps) may this my humble Rhyme:  
Yet if in friendly manner you disclose  
My oversights, I'll mend, or write in Prose.  
G. L.   

To my Worthy Friend Mr. GEORGE LESLY, upon his Poem called JOSEPH Revived.  

WITH Fiction while the airy Poet doth  
Abuse the Text, thou tell'st the naked truth;  
Thou stuff'st thy Verse with Sense, and every Rhyme  
Complete speaks thee a Poet without crime.   

He who in Sacred Phrase was once forlorn,  
And piece-meal shown, like to his Garment, torn,  
Thou offerest whole; snips and shreds they Theme,  
Thou drawest his Story up without a Seam.   

O happy Art! thrice Joseph rides in State,  
In Pharaoh's Second Char'ot first, than date  
His second Trophy with Divine Records,  
His Honour last commenceth with thy words.   

Bid Breth'ren all his Glory'n Egypt tell;  
He needs not now, thy Pen hath done't so well,  
That all the British Orb of it may ring,  
And we of thee, while thou of him dost sing.   
Tho. Woolsey D. D.   

JOSEPH REVIVED.  

OF Rachel's longed for darling since I sing,  
And thy beloved, help me Jacobs King.  
My Bark is crazy, and my stock is small,  
Yet if thou Wind and Sea command, I shall  
Safe to the Harbour this my Pinnace bring,  
Then of myself and it make offering.  
At Padan-aram had this worthy breath,  
Not long before the beauteous Rachel's death,  
Yet Hebron was the place of his abode,  
At seventeen years beloved of man and God:  
Where with his Brethren, Dan and Napthali,  
Asher and Gad, he on the downs did lie,  
Feeding the Flocks with them, their ill report  
Grieved the Lad, for which he did resort  
Unto his aged Father, and declared  
Those passages that he had seen and heard.  
These actions, Boy, to them will fatal prove,  
Though I can never take from thee that love  
I unto Rachel (while she lived) did bear.  
For proof whereof this Livery take and wear.  
This, with his tidings did exasperate  
His brethren's spirits, so that him they hate,  
Which heaven soon perceiveth, and his fame  
Raiseth, by dreams to be fulfilled on them;  
The which when he (awake) gins to tell,  
Their eyes inflame and hearts with anger swell  
Against the harmless Youth, who nevertheless  
In friendly manner did it thus express:  
This night, said he, as we all binding were  
Sheaves in the field, mine did itself uprear  
In Kinglike posture, and yours round did stand,  
Making obeisance, waiting its command.  
To which his Brethren hastily replied,  
Shalt thou reign o'er us? Shall it  be said  
That thou shalt have dominion? No, thy grave  
Is just reward, for these thy Dreams to have.  
Yet where Jehovah works no man can let,  
He dreams again of their succeeding fate,  
Which he once more doth unto them reveal,  
And said, this other I will not conceal.  
And thus it was, Behold! the Sun and Moon,  
With Stars eleven, to me have homage done.  
Of this he did not only certify  
His Brethren, but his Father, who did cry,  
Fie Son! what mean these uncouth thoughts? be sure  
Such wild presages I shall ne'er endure;  
Thinkest thou, that I, my Wife and Children too  
Shall crouch and bow, and fall fore such as you?  
No child, be wise, forbear thus to divine,  
Lest all the rest against thee do combine.  
This storm is ceased, and the young men gone  
Their flocks to feed, in Sechem every one,  
For whose long absence, neither night nor day  
Can Jacob rest, till Joseph's sent away,  
Who said, Go down and see if all be right,  
I've suffered much for my ten Sons this night.  
Your will, said he, is unto me a Law,  
I'll go to Sechem, though I never saw  
The place: no sooner doth he undertake  
his journey, than the way he doth forsake,  
And wanders too and fro in open field,  
Till one drew nigh and pitied the child,  
Saying, What seekest thou Stripling, 'tis my grief  
To see thee straying here without relief?  
My Brethren, Sir, said he, pray tell me whither  
've driven their flocks to feed, I must go thither.  
Boy, answered he, I think I heard them say,  
Rise up, and let's to Dothan straight away:  
And there they are, for any thing I know,  
The grass is good, because the ground is low.  
My thanks I give you, Sir, and if I find  
Them there, I'll say you were exceeding kind.  
This said, he runneth thither joyfully,  
Not dreaming once of any danger nigh.  
But 'twas a dream, for he's no sooner spied  
By his malicious Brethren, than they cried,  
Behold! our Dreamer comes, prophetic Mome;  
Come, let us slay him, he shall ne'er go home,  
And cast him in some Pit, than we will say  
Some evil Beast hath ta'en his life away.  
And then 'tis hoped that we shall quickly see  
A final end both of his Dreams and he.  
But Reuben who was judged least to respect  
God or his Father, doth the Lad protect;  
Sa'ing, Let's not kill him, for some time or other  
It will come out, remember he's our Brother;  
If his Blood cry, let us not think to thrive:  
We'll rather put him in this Pit alive.  
This course he was the willinger to take,  
Because thereby he thought to get him back  
Safe to his Father. All this time the Lad  
Thought of no ill, nor yet suspicion had,  
But rushed among them, ravished with joy,  
Wishing them health; who answer, Foolish Boy  
Hast not more Dreams to tell? we must now see  
If this fine Coat doth make thee prophesy.  
Are we not Brethren? Oh! be not so rude,  
Said he, I mean to you nothing but good.  
No, Stripling no, thy Sighs, thy Pra'rs, thy Tears  
With us must take no place, thy tender years  
Which pity crave, must taste our cruelty;  
In this dry Pit thou art designed to lie.  
To't, fling him down, 'tis Noon we'll take repast:  
But hold, who's this draws towards us so fast?  
Ishma'lites surely, come from Gilead  
Unloaden with Spice, Balm, Myrrh, Egyptian Trade.  
By this time Judah's heart began to melt,  
Whose words declare that he great trouble felt.  
What profit in our Brother's blood, said he,  
Though we conceal't, yet murderers we be.  
Give o'er; I've found a way that's better far:  
We see these Camels richly loaden are,  
Let's with their Masters this our Dreamer truck;  
And being gone, we'll pray for his good luck.  
This, this will clear us from the Calumny  
Of Fratricide that would upon us lie.  
Ho, Chapmen tarry, want ye not a Lad  
To drive your Horses and promote your Trade?  
Here's one, we'll sell him cheap. A pretty Youth,  
Replied the Merchants, he will serve us both.  
How prise ye him? Speak, if ye mean that we  
Should buy him of you, rate him not too high.  
At one word, twenty Pieces is our price.  
Hold, here's your Money, he is worth it twice:  
And so we hope he'll give, the Boy likes well.  
The Wares are always good that Merchants sell.  
We'll carry him to Egypt, for his Age  
And Feature fitteth him to be a Page  
To some great Lady; if that will not do,  
My Lord he can serve in his Chamber too.  
And if the Rules of Physiognomy  
Deceive us not, such Grace's hidden lie  
Under his flaxen hair, and downy chin,  
As hitherto in any scarce hath been.  
Come, let's go hence; I'll now unto the Pit,  
Saith Reu. to see if Joseph be in it,  
But missing of him, whom he thought to find,  
He instantly returns with heavy mind  
Unto his Brethren, crying out, Alas!  
The Boy is taken out of yonder place:  
Whither shall I go? not home to my dear Father,  
Seeing he'll require of me; no, I'll rather  
Breath out the rest of my unhappy years  
In some dark Cell, and expiate with tears  
My double crime. No Brother, cry the rest,  
We have a project (if ye think it best)  
Will with our Father clear both us and you:  
Look, here's his Coat, and there are Coats enough,  
Let's with their blood besprinkle it, and then  
Go cheerfully to Hebron back again,  
And ask our Father if this garb he knows,  
Since at first view it like to Joseph's shows.  
On this they all conclude, and home return  
With joyful faces, though they'd cause to mourn;  
And with these tidings Jacob did salute,  
At which surprised, he's suddenly struck mute,  
And beats his Breast, his Eyes great floods let out  
Of Tears, and said, Poor Joseph without doubt  
Is torn in pieces by some evil Beast,  
Who first devours, and after makes his feast.  
This said, he rend his clothes, sackcloth put on,  
And many days mourned for him alone,  
Without all comfort, till at last his Sons  
And Daughters all come unto him at once,  
Saying, O Father why doth this your grief  
Transport you so, as not to take relief;  
We think you might be joyful, when you see  
Of your own Loins this goodly company.  
No, said old Jacob, though I love you well,  
Yet this Lad's death will make me go to Hell  
Mourning: poor heart! in him alone I lived,  
And now being dead, how can I be but grieved?  
Yet all this sorrow can nothing retard  
The sturdy Pedlars, who by driving hard  
Have got to Egypt, where by quick retail  
They mean their Spice to vend, and Joseph's sale  
Expect; both which accordingly fallen out,  
Buyers (like Bees) to them flock round about;  
And Potiphar himself beholds their Trade,  
Where suddenly he spies the lovely Lad;  
Likes, buys and pays, carries him to his house,  
That Proverb's false, Mountains bring forth a Mouse.  
At home when he good notice taken had,  
Of all things were performed by the Lad,  
And of the Blessings he from God received,  
Name and Religion, then of him he craved;  
Which known, from slavery he did set him free,  
Saying, Of my House thou now shalt Ruler be.  
The pious Youth no sooner is preferred,  
Then th' others Pra'er for thrift is answered;  
For God did then th' Egyptians house so bless,  
That all things prosp'red, whether more or less.  
This made the Captain trust him with his store  
Of all that he had cared for, nor knew no more  
Than what he eat; But, ah! the goodly face  
Of Joseph tempted Jempsar to embrace  
The holy Youth with her surrounding Arms,  
And glance her amorous eyes, adul'trous Charms.  
These made him blush with shame and fear together,  
And answer, No, you're Sacred as my Mother.  
Doth not my Master trust his State with me?  
And hath withheld nothing at all but thee.  
This wickedness is great, I dare not do't;  
Pardon me Mistress, and leave off your suit.  
Say, if I grant all that which you desire,  
Can you keep off God's Wrath and Husband's Ire?  
Nay, he will be offended, and my Lord  
Will never after take an Hebrews word.  
Yet this inflamed Wanton gives not o'er  
To speak him kindly every day and hour;  
Adding forced Caresses, but in vain,  
From day to day, till she had drunk the bane  
That either must her Lust or Fury end  
Upon her Servant and her Husband's Friend:  
Both which are grown to that prodigious height,  
That though the Sun shines, yet she counts it night,  
Saying within herself, he's here I guess  
Alone i'the house about his business;  
This is the last exploit I mind to try,  
To which the Fool must either yield or die;  
And then laid hold upon his Coat and swore,  
I'll have all I desire of thee before  
Thou go, there's none can see or hear the noise;  
But he as frighted at her lustful voice,  
Flees out and leaves his Garment in her hand.  
Where God forbids to fight, he dares not stand.  
Now Hell and she must act another part,  
Viz. mourning face put on, dissembling heart,  
The sugared words she used but of late  
For baits, turns Choler, this to cruel hate;  
Calling aloud to all, for Heaven's sake help,  
I am abused by this Hebrew Whelp.  
See here the Relics of his villainy:  
My cries it made him leave, and from me flee.  
And now would God my Potiphar were come,  
For I shall never rest till he's at home,  
And have related unto him what fare  
Must be expected i'the house where Hebrews are.  
He's at the door, run and let in my Lord.  
How now my Girl? What? neither smile nor word?  
Smile, No: how can I? since your very slave  
Emboldened is, thine, not my Love to crave:  
He hath attempted that Fort was ne'er besieged  
By more than thee, to whom I am obliged.  
Horrid! Nay, 'tis no Jest, this Coat but see,  
And then my wrong revenge, or love not me.  
To which the furious Husband answer made,  
Enough my Jempsar, it shall ne'er be said  
That you (my Love) can any thing demand  
That I'll deny, wherefore I pray you stand  
To see the Prologue of his torturing pains,  
He shall imprisoned be and bound with chains.  
Go, cursed Rogue, I'll never trust the face  
That's beautiful, it's seldom lined with grace.  
This heard, the courteous Lad made humble bow,  
Saying, My Lord, I never wronged you;  
Time trying all things, you shall plainly see  
The fault was hers, and there was none in me:  
Wherefore, I hope, that God whom I do serve  
Will grant such favour, that I may not starve  
In this dark Prison—  
Thy words are bootless, Jailor keep him sure  
While I have studied what he shall endure.  
Which, when Jehovah from's Imperial Throne  
Herd, wills a winged Herald to be gone  
Down to his Footstool-Earth, and there to tell  
The Turn-key, he must use the Prisoner well.  
This made our guiltless Youth much favour find  
With him, that unto others was unkind:  
For, what in prison was among them done,  
Joseph was doer of it; he alone  
Without control ruled all, because the Lord  
Him prospered, according to the World.  
Yet all this time our Joseph never thought  
How he from prison should at last be brought,  
Till he that all for good makes work together,  
Sent Pharaoh's Butler and his Baker thither  
For misdemeanour, who were put in ward  
With Potiphar the Captain of the Guard,  
Whom Joseph served; at last each dreamed a dream,  
Viz. Butler, Baker on a several Theme,  
Which so perplexed both of them next morrow,  
That he it spied, and said, Sirs, what sorrow  
Tormenteth you, ye lowr and are so sad?  
There is some cause, if your night-sleep was bad.  
Boy, that's not all, but we have dreaming been,  
And none can tell us what the same doth mean.  
Hear me, my Masters, do not you yet know  
That their Interpretations from below  
Come not, 'tis only such, events can read  
As are with spiritual Mantles overspread.  
Then do but tell me what was each man's Theme,  
Not doubting I shall quickly read your Dream.  
A Vine, said Butler, I saw me before,  
And in the same three Branches and no more,  
Which budded, shooting forth its Blossom-flow'rs,  
Whose clusters all brought forth such Grapes as ours;  
The Cup of Pharaoh being in my hand,  
I took, and pressed them in at his command;  
Who afterward both took and did it drink.  
This is the sum of what I dreamed I think.  
is this the thing you have a mind to know?  
Come, rouse your Spirit, it needs not be so low;  
The Branches three, as many days portend,  
Before the end of which the King will send  
For you, and to your wont place restore,  
His Cup to bear, as you was wont before.  
When this Prediction is fulfilled on thee,  
Be sure to put the King in mind of me:  
And tell him, though he have Magicians store,  
Yet there's an Hebrew Lad that knoweth more  
Than all of them; and this a mean will be  
From Bonds and Prison for to set me free;  
For I indeed an Hebrew stolen was,  
And hither brought, I know not for what cause;  
Where now again, without a crime I lie  
In this dark Cell, and may do till I die.  
In this young man, said the Baker, well,  
And will adventure mine also to tell.  
Three Baskets white I had upon my head,  
In which were several sorts of meat and Bread  
Which I to Pharaoh brought; but e'er I came  
Birds flocked about my head, and eat the same.  
This Dream of yours will prove but bad I fear,  
And therefore, Sir, I beg you would forbear  
To urge from me what it doth signify;  
Take this for all, that you must quickly die.  
I fear not that, say on, I will approve  
Of that my Friend reveals to me in love.  
My life I will resign most willingly,  
If of my Service Pharaoh weary be.  
If't must be so, The Baskets that you wore,  
Predict, that e'er three days be o'er  
You shall be hanged, and Birds your flesh shall eat.  
This is the vision of your baked meat.  
Make sure of Heaven, thy part on Earth is done.  
Now by this time risen third days sparkling Sun;  
Where God ordaining, Pharaoh made a Feast  
Upon his Birthday, unto all the rest  
Of them that were his Servants; by and by  
In frolic humonr he aloud did cry,  
Go, bring the Baker and the Butler up,  
This man is fittest to give me the Cup:  
As for the other, his last doom shall be  
To be lift up, and hanged on a Tree.  
The honour which the Prince's favour lends  
May be called in, and then in shame it ends.  
Good turns are soon forgot, a Proverb sure,  
For guiltless Joseph must as yet endure.  
Courtiers use not always to keep word,  
Although the make their Vows unto the Lord,  
Whose time's the best to set our Captive free;  
Though two full years he must in Prison be,  
Till Pharaoh dreams that he by Water side  
Stands, and Seven Fat well-favourd Kine espied  
Come up from thence, as also seven lean,  
And joined to th' other; those when he had seen  
Stood horror-struck, and what th' event might be,  
Wait, 'twas not long before that he did see  
Those scurvy lean-fleshed Beasts the other eat,  
And yet still looking poor, and wanting meat.  
So Pharaoh ' work, till slumber had his eyes  
Closed, and then the second time he spies  
Seven Ears of Corn come up both good and rank,  
Seven others also that were poor and lank;  
And as the other Lean, did Fat devour,  
These eat the Rank likewise that very hour.  
This doubled Phantasm so perplexed the heart  
Of Egypt's King, that he must both impart  
To his Magicians, willing them to see  
If they could tell what either signify.  
We are confounded, cry the Sophis, Lord  
Of these thy dreams we cannot tell one word.  
This unexpected answer so roused up  
The memory of him that bore the Cup,  
Who thus expressed himself unto the King;  
My Lord, I've sinned in this very thing:  
Pharaoh well knows that he with me was wrath,  
And with the Baker also sent me forth  
Unto the Prison, where we both did lie,  
Till our sad Dreams an Hebrew did espy;  
Who told me of it, as it since hath proved,  
Saying, the Butler needs not to be moved,  
For he shall be restored; but Baker he  
Shall by the King condemned and hanged be.  
These tidings pleased the King beyond all measure,  
Who prized the meaning of his dreams 'bove treasure.  
Call in the young man, for he's wiser far  
Than all the Sophies that in Egypt are.  
Run quickly unto Potyphar, and say,  
Pharaoh must see his Prisoner to day.  
Where Kings command, the message is obeyed.  
The Seer's called to come in haste, who said,  
What, is your haste so great? may I not stay  
Till I be shaved and unto Heaven pray,  
And change my Garments also, since you see  
I am not fit before your King to be?  
He comes— Sweet Youth, said Pharaoh, but declare  
What these my Dreams mean, and Garland wear.  
My Butler tells me, if thou hear the Theme  
Thou canst interpret every anxious Dream.  
My Lord, said he, that Grace is not in me,  
But God whom I do serve can let you see  
A true interpretation from my Mouth;  
Look well upon me, and despise not youth,  
For what my Maker doth to me reveal,  
That, and no more will I to Pharaoh tell.  
Say on, my Lord, what was your dream? Why I.  
Said Pharaoh, stood great Nilus' River by,  
And there, behold, seven Fat-wel-favoured Kine  
Feed in a Mead, and said, These Beasts are mine:  
But suddenly again to me appeared  
Seven other Lean ill-shaped and hanging eared,  
Such as the Land of Egypt never bred;  
For on the first seven Fat when they had fed,  
Their Bellies clung unto their Backs, and were  
Ill-favoured, lean as e'er they were before.  
Thus I awoke, but when my drowsy eye  
Was closed again with sleep, I did espy  
Seven Ears of Corn upon one stalk that grew  
So full and good, as yet I never knew.  
After them came up Seven more was thin  
And withered, as they'd Thunder-blasted been,  
Which suddenly the better did devour.  
And I again waked, calling o'er and o'er  
On those that studious Magicians were,  
The truth of these my Dreams for to declare;  
But all of them together answered,  
'Tis God that caused your Dreams, he must 'em read.  
Now, he that would by this thy favour merit,  
Elisha-like must have Elia's Spirit.  
Say Hebrew then, the smoothness of thy brow  
Tells me, this task will be too hard for you.  
My youth bespeaks me ignorant I know,  
Great Sir, yet since the knowledge from below  
Comes not, that must your doubled dream unfold,  
That which is young by Nature, Grace makes old;  
By which, I tell you, that your dreams are one,  
And signify, what Heaven will have done.  
In Egypt Land the Seven good Ears and Kine  
Such years portend, this he bids me divine.  
The ill fleshed ones, and blasted Ears of Corn  
Foretells a Famine will make Egypt mourn  
For seven more. See, Nile cannot contain  
The Waters sent for nourishment of Grain;  
And all things else needs moisture for that space,  
After which time it will dry up. Alas!  
What I must do, I know not, pray be kind,  
And as of that, of this, Sir, speak your mind.  
You must seek out in all the Land discreet  
And wise men, who may strictly overseeed.  
Them bid a fifth part of its fruit to gather;  
These hard times will require a Nursing Father.  
In all thy Cities let it stored be,  
That when the Famine comes they may to thee  
Repair, and buy it at thy Steward's hand;  
Else this great Scarseness will undo the Land.  
This thing when Pharaoh and his Servants heard,  
They thanked Joseph, and his God they feared,  
Saying, where shall we such another find  
In whom the Spirit is, and knows his mind.  
And since thy God, even thine hath showed thee this,  
None either wiser or discreeter is  
In all the Kingdom; wherefore thou shalt be  
My House and Servants Ruler, God to me:  
To show I am in earnest, take this Ring,  
And be hereafter next unto the King:  
These clothes put on, and Chains about thy neck,  
And let my Subjects pay thee all respect;  
Ride in my second Chariot, then to thee  
Shall all my Vassals humbly bow the knee.  
While I am Pharaoh, it shall be a Law,  
That all my Kingdom of thee stand in awe.  
No foot or hand in it shall moved be,  
Till first they have direction from thee.  
And since thou canst reveal my secrets all  
Zaphanath pa'neah I will ever call  
Thy name, and thou shalt surely be the Son.  
Of Potipherah, who is Priest of On.   

Thus you have seen our Joseph in the Den,  
Sold and imprisoned and restored again.  
Now what his future happiness may be,  
Launch out again with me, and you shall see  
The Scene is altered, and his celeb life  
Changed for the blessing of a virtuous Wife,  
Who bore before the Famine unto him  
Two hopeful Males, Manas. and Ephraim.  
The first was named so, because he had  
Forgot his Father's house and former Trade.  
And when the other God did to him send,  
He said, I'll call him Ephraim, for an end  
Is put to my affliction, and my store  
Increased is, and Honour more and more.  
The Plenties ended, and the Famine come:  
Said Pharaoh, Joseph, let us now go home.  
The truth of all that thou hast said I see,  
By th' hungry people's crying unto me  
For maintenance, I know not what to say  
To still their clamour, only that they may  
Repair to thee for answer, and receive  
What thou thinks meet, I know 'tis bread they crave.  
The Famine now grown over all the Earth,  
And every Creature suffering under dearth,  
The Storehouses were opened, and meat  
The moneyed Egyptians did eat.  
Yet though he sold to many of the store  
The Famine waxed daily more and more;  
Neither did Egypt only Victuals want,  
But in all other Country's Food was scant.  
Yea, even in canaan, which was wont to be  
For plenteousness the World's Granary.  
The Famine placed itself in every Face,  
Which Jacob seeing, cried out, Alas!  
What shall we do? we'd better ne'er been born  
Then die for hunger; yet I hear there's Corn  
In Egypt, up then, get you down and try  
If of the Ruler you can any buy.  
Go thither therefore all of you, save one,  
Him leave with me, I cannot be alone.  
Father, said they, our lives we own to you,  
Can we refuse then what you bid us do?  
No, Benjamin shall stay till we are come  
With all our Asses fully loaden home.  
Your blessing, Sir, e'er we our Journey take,  
We are all ready, only that we lack.  
That God's and mine your Journey prosper may,  
Till ye return I'll never cease to pray.  
Your Money make full weight, entreat the man,  
Tell him the Famine's great in Canaan;  
And that with others you are come to buy  
Egyptian Corn, your wants that may supply.  
Now unto Zoan Jacob's Sons are come,  
Saying, is the Lord, the Governor at home?  
We come from far, O let's obtain the grace  
To speak, and show him our disastrous case.  
Lo, I am here, said he, your business:  
At this they bowed to the Earth and could express  
Nothing; his Glory and their present grief  
Ties up their Tongues, they cannot ask relief.  
The Prince again, who all their Faces knew,  
Stranged himself from them, and angry grew,  
Saying, whence come you? surely you are Spies;  
The countenance often the heart betrays.  
This rough expression so increased their fear,  
That trembling they reply, No, Sir, this year  
Our Syrian Land was parched and nothing bore,  
Mere want made us come unto thee for store.  
Go, go, you lie, I know your whispering  
Persuadeth me that there is no such thing;  
But Villains come the nakedness to view  
Of this our Land, and then himself withdrew.  
Nay, Good my Lord, said they, our Story hear,  
We all Sons unto one, and true men are;  
Mark what we say, and if we tell you Lies,  
Then, and not else conclude that we are Spies.  
Tush, this is nothing, every man will say  
As much, if so by that he cleared may  
Be, but if you give not a better reason  
Of your down coming, I will swear there's Treason  
Intended. Then we're twelve, replied the other,  
Brethren, of whom you see ten, and another  
At home, his Father's joy, and one is not.  
Ha', now, that you be Spies I surely wots;  
And so for all your words, I shall you prove,  
If you bring not to me your Fathers Love.  
Choose out among you one, and for him send,  
Till than our Controversy cannot end,  
Nor you be clear, if you do not, I swear  
By Pharaoh's Life, that you vile Vagrants are.  
Go, bring the Lad, his Face when I do see,  
I'll say all's true that ye have said to me.  
Resolve, this Prison must be your abode  
Till all agree, this do, live, I fear God;  
If ye be true men, then let one of you  
Be bound in Prison, where you all are now,  
And let the rest take Corn that may supply  
Your wants at home, lest they for hunger die  
In this great Famine, only bring the Boy:  
It's truth, I seek to prove, not to destroy  
Your lives; to which they agree, and say t' each other,  
We guilty are concerning our dear Brother,  
Who to his anguished Soul so hardened were,  
That when he prayed his plaint we would not hear;  
For which, in Justice our Almighty God  
Doth lay on us this his afflicting Rod.  
Then Reuben unto them replied, and said,  
Did I not tell you so, when fast you laid  
Your hands upon the Boy, but did no good;  
Therefore of us required is his blood.  
This they among themselves in Hebrew spoke,  
Thinking that Joseph could no notice take;  
For seeing one who (as his part required)  
Interpreted what they of him desired,  
And unto them what his Lords answer was;  
They spoke their minds aloud about the cause  
Of their distresses, which when Egypt's Lord  
Had heard, he turned from them without a word.  
His sympathising Soul swelled so high,  
That he must either quickly burst or cry.  
See, where God's Spirit dwells no hatred lives,  
He turns again, communes, in heart forgives  
Their ancient Crime, yet seemingly unkind  
He from them Simeon takes, and him doth bind,  
And then commands his Servants for to fill  
Their Sacks with Corn, not leaving off until  
They said they had enough; the money he  
Bids put into their Sacks mouths most secretly.  
Provision for their way bids also take,  
Saying, here's enough, I would not have you lack,  
Nor yet diminish aught that ye have bought;  
It's pity you should come so far for naught.  
Their Asses now when they all loaded had,  
From Egypt soon they their departure made,  
Travelling hard till it was time to bait  
Their Asses, and themselves had need to eat  
Their Dinner over, Beasts now to be provened,  
One his Sack opens, and cries out, I'm cozened,  
Did you not all see me my money pay,  
And yet 'tis here in my Sacks mouth this day?  
This quickly made their joyful Faces lowr,  
And curse the day and the unhappy hour,  
When they their Brother sold. It surely is  
For vengeance, said they, that our God doth this;  
Up, and let's load again, till we our place  
In Canaan see, and our old Father's face,  
That from his wise and long experience  
May gathered be, what can proceed from hence.  
Now they're returned home and do relate  
To Jacob, how the Steward did them hate,  
All which we might well by his car'age gather;  
But, Ah! said they, this was not all dear Father,  
For he would not convinced be, but we  
Must needs be spies, come Egypt for to see;  
And though we spoke the truth, all this he urged  
May come from Subtle Rogues, and so be forged;  
But if you will prove true, said he, leave one  
Till ye have brought me Jacob's little Son.  
This we were forced to do, Simeon is there,  
And must, till Ben our Brother doth repair  
Thither with us, when we go next to buy,  
Whose sight will work poor Sim's delivery,  
And our free Traffic throughout all the Land;  
Of this we have the Ruler's Word and Hand.  
But pray let's see your Corn if it be right,  
Said Jacob, sure your Money was full weight.  
You shall, Dear Father; bring the Asses nigh,  
That we may emptied in the Granary.  
Lift up this Sack, 'tis of unusual weight,  
Pray God there be not here another slight;  
Look, here's my Money, mine, and mine, and mine.  
And all of ours, as sure as thou hadst thine.  
At this Adventure all of them are sad,  
Saying, what shall we do, our case is bad?  
But most of all old Jacob, whose grey Head  
Shakes with a Palsy, and falls down half dead,  
Wring his feeble hands, his sighs declare  
What his sad thoughts of this Adventure were.  
They'll count you Thiefs, said he, O how I grieve!  
Moreover now, who can my Son relieve?  
Of Joseph and of Simeon I'm bereaved,  
And now poor Ben. is also from me craved.  
But hold, before this his request I'll grant  
Simeon I'll lose, and die myself of want.  
Not so, Dear Father, said the eldest Son,  
Your will in all things else I will have done:  
But he must go, whom if I bring not back,  
Then here I leave two Sons, them you shall take  
And slay: Dear Sir, the charge lay upon me;  
A good event, I hope, you'll quickly see.  
Son, hold thy peace, my darling being dead,  
Would you his Brother also from me lead?  
No, he must not go down, for if he do,  
My days are done, and I must leave you too:  
That sorrow my grey hairs will bring to grave,  
Leave off this suit, and any thing else crave  
I will it grant—  
As greatest Stocks, that always are impaired,  
Without supply, diminish, so it fared  
With Jacob and his Sons, who now begin  
To feel their flesh (for want) waste, and their skin  
A withered complexion put on,  
While through the same, they might discern the bone  
The very last of their Egyptian store  
Eat up, the old man called out once more  
Unto his Sons, and said, Go down again  
To Egypt, and bring Simeon with our grain.  
Whence Judah took occasion to express  
Himself at large about the business  
In hand; The man, said he, made protestation,  
That neither we nor any other Nation  
Should any thing receive, or see his face,  
Unless that Ben. came down in Simeon's place.  
If thou wilt send our Brother, than we may  
Go down and buy more food, else cease I pray,  
We dare not. Unto which he did reply,  
Why was ye so unwise as to descry  
My Boy, or give him such a strict account  
Of me, and to what number mine did mount?  
It was not in our power that to conceal,  
Said they, the man was strict and made us deal  
Thus plainly; for he said, Have you a Father  
Alive or Brother, nay, or Brethren rather?  
This made us speak the Truth, but never thought  
That he would say, let Benjamin be brought,  
Or that he would have proved so unkind  
As to take Simeon from us, and him bind.  
Father, continued Judah, if with me  
You send the Lad, we'll go, I'll surety be,  
And of my hand you shall again require  
Him, dearest Father, grant me my desire;  
This will not only prove us to be true,  
But purchase food, and Simeon home to you.  
Fear not, good Sir, if I do not restore  
Him safe again, I'll bear the blame therefore  
For ever; had we not thus lingered,  
We had returned the second time with Bread.  
Well, well my Sons, then if it must be so,  
Said he, my Counsel take before ye go.  
Of all our best fruits you shall quickly gather  
Some, and present them unto Egypt's Father.  
A little Balm, and Myrrh, and Honey take,  
With Spice and Almonds, Nuts, a Present make;  
With double money also in your hand,  
And that you carried last into the Land  
Restore, perchance it was an oversight.  
Then take my Son your Brother, do what's right,  
And let Jehovah give you mercy when  
You come before the man that doth retain  
Your Brother, and let Benjamin come back.  
At this his Blood boiled, and these words he spoke;  
I see there is no probability  
But of my Boys I must bereft be.  
However, get you hence, I trust my God  
Will give me strength to bear this heavy load.  
This was the Farewell which old Jacob took  
Of all his Sons when Cana'n they forsook,  
And unto Egypt with the Present went,  
The double Money which their Father sent.  
Benjamin also with the rest went down  
To see the Ruler and view Memphis Town,  
Who are no sooner' lighted then descried  
By Joseph, who, when Benjamin he spied,  
Called unto Ramses hastily, and said,  
Dispatch with Dinner, is the Cloth yet laid?  
Prepare more Victuals than was wont to be,  
For these 11 men at Noon must dine with me.  
'Tis done my Lord. Gentlemen, follow me  
Into the Hall, the Prince desires that ye  
Such entertainment as the House affords  
Receive with welcome, as doth Egypt's Lords.  
This unexpected carriage so amazed  
The new-made-Guests, that each on other gazed,  
And said, we may now easily perceive  
The entertainment we are like to have.  
This is the Ruler's House where now we be,  
Death or vile slavery is our destiny.  
That pithy Sentence is not seldom true,  
Love quickly turns to hate that is but new.  
We know the drift, 'tis for our money's sake  
Was in our Sacks, that he this course doth take.  
'Tis like the Steward knoweth for what end  
We are brought in, try, if he be our Friend  
He'll give us some account; he that's forearmed,  
As Proverb saith, is also partly warned.  
Let's commune with him, and excuse ourselves  
For this our Money, there is no way else  
That can be taken, this we will relate,  
Which done, he'll either show his love or hate.  
Sir, at the first when we came to buy food,  
We paid money for it, that was good.  
Full weight it was, but shortly after how  
It came into our Sacks, we know not now.  
Our ignorance we hope will be excused:  
Here is our Money, we have not refused  
It to repay, and other Money too  
At this time brought to buy more food of you.  
Pray rest contented and be not afraid,  
Said Ramses, seeing Jacob's God hath laid  
Treasure into your Sacks; what I did crave  
I had, and Simeon is no more a Slave.  
Lo, here is Water, please you wash your Feet,  
And I myself will give your Ass' meat.  
By this assurance they so cheered are,  
That in his absence they their Gift prepare  
Against the Lords incoming, seeing they  
Should see his face, and dine with him that day.  
Now the Clock strikes, Servants begin to run  
Each to his Office, waiting the return  
Of Zaphnapaa'neah, who came in and stood  
Like glorious Phoebus, when from under cloud;  
Whose sparkling splendour dazzled the eyes  
Of all, but most his Brethren, whom he spies  
With piercing aspect; this his love exerts  
To them, whom conscious of their own deserts,  
Bowed to the Earth their Heads, and said, My Lord,  
Accept such things as canaan doth afford.  
Who smiled and took the Present, saying, How  
Doth your old Father, and yourselves all now?  
Is he yet living? Doth his Silver Threads  
Yet shine? They answer, Yes, with bowed heads.  
At last the Ruler spieth out his Brother,  
Even Benjamin, the Son of his own Mother;  
And said, My Friends, is this the youngest Lad,  
When you were here, you said your Father had?  
I guess it is, his count'nance speaks no less.  
thou'rt as my Son, whom God Almighty bless.  
This he pronounced with such vehemency,  
That Tears appeared in his melting Eye,  
Though Power and Policy bid him refrain,  
His face is washed, and he returns again,  
And bids them set on Bread, 'tis quickly done,  
For all the rest together, him alone;  
And for the Egyptians by themselves, whose meat  
Was not the same with that which Joseph eat,  
Being unto them a great abomination  
To feed on such things as the Hebrew Nation.  
Now all is ready, Chaplain say the Grace,  
And let each Stranger set as is his place:  
He that is eldest bid him first go in,  
And let the rest assede, than Benjamin.  
Judge you if Joseph did not give them cause  
To think that he once their Domestic was,  
He can so well their Birth and Age discern,  
They marvel at it, yet doth nothing learn.  
Come, Trenchers here: Carver cut up this Dish,  
And reach me hither that same boiled Fish.  
Sir, take this Mess, and you, and you, and you;  
You're welcome all: they thank him with a Bow.  
But, Oh! methinks that young man is not served,  
In a Cook's Shop I would have no man starved.  
Here, Ramses, reach the last man this from me;  
This seen, the rest did wonder why't should be:  
That of him he should take such special care,  
And furnish with more than a  share.  
As Meat of all sorts, so the Drink was free,  
For Joseph said, with you I'll merry be.  
The Grace-Cup's over, now let us go on  
To sing of all the Rulers kindness shown.  
Their Sacks he first commands to fill, and then  
Their money to be put in them again.  
Next take my Cup, my Silver Cup, said he,  
And in Ben's Sack's mouth let it hidden be,  
With his Corn-money when he hath it paid.  
All is performed, My Lord, as you have said.  
The joyful Brethren, e'er it was light day,  
That Morning with their Loads are sent away;  
Though they have scarcely past the City Walls,  
When Hue and Cry's sent out; Constable calls:  
Stand thankless Wretches: tell me what's the cause  
That ye have thus even broken Natures Laws,  
And all the Rules of Hospitality.  
You said, we're true men, but ye robbers be;  
My Lords, both drinking and divining Cup,  
(Deny it not) you, you have taken up.  
Was this requital for your Noble Feast?  
Restored again, may be ye took't in Jest:  
Nay, but you Jest, said they, we hope your Lord  
Hath sent you unto us with no such word;  
For though we here be Strangers, yet the chief  
At home we are, we need not play the thief.  
Did we not with us triple Money bring?  
Why then should we have stolen this petty thing?  
If you among us do the Goblet find,  
Hang him that took it, and the rest Slaves bind.  
've said enough, yet it must not be so,  
But he that took it Servant back shall go,  
And you be blameless, for it were too much  
That one should die, and th'rest be kept for such  
A crime: then to't, said Reuben, to the rest,  
Pull down your Sacks, and open them in haste.  
Let this unthought-of search with me begin,  
And so go on to Brother Benjamin.  
When all of them had narrowly been tried,  
Except the last, than was the Cup descried,  
Which brought upon them such a sudden fear,  
That some their  rend, some their hair did tear.  
To see these mourning Brethren 'twas great pity,  
Loading their Asses, turning to the City.  
When Judah and his Brethren too were come  
To Joseph's House, expecting their last doom,  
He bowed and said, What shall we say unto  
My Lord? What shall we speak? What shall we do  
To prove us guiltless? sure God hath found out  
Our hidden fault, for which without all doubt  
He doth us punish; wherefore we are thine,  
Because the Cup is found with Benjamin.  
The Fact is too apparent, yet our God  
Who searcheth Hearts, knows our intended load  
Was Corn, not Plate; but since it must be so,  
His will be done, and we no further go.  
This when the man had heard, he answer made,  
I never yet on any burdens laid  
More than I thought was just, then God forbidden  
That I should any keep, but him who did  
Convey away my Cup, 'tis only he  
That I adjudge my Servant for to be;  
As for the rest, let them go home in peace,  
I'll use him well although he live by Grace.  
Then Judah, with a look that spoke his fears,  
Said, Good my Lord, graciously deign your ears  
Unto a few things that I must express  
About my Brother Ben. his business.  
Didst thou not strictly of us all inquire  
If we had yet a Brother more, or Sire?  
We answered, Yes: a comely aged man,  
Called Israel, and dwells in Canaan,  
Who keeps at home with him our youngest Brother,  
His Darling being dead, who was another;  
Which two fair Rachel to our Father bore.  
This makes him love the living Lad the more.  
And thee require of us more earnestly  
His coming down, that thou might set thine Eye  
Upon him; but we all with one accord  
Said, this can scarce be granted to my Lord,  
For if his Father part with him, we fear  
He will not live with us another year.  
At this thou (vexed) from us turned thy Face,  
saying, bring him down, or else my wont Grace  
I will withdraw; which, when we did go home,  
We told our ancient Father all in sum,  
But had no answer, till at last he said,  
Rise, get you down to Egypt for more aid;  
But we remembering this thy threatening word,  
Said, none of us dare speak unto the Lord,  
Or see his Face unless our Brother go  
To Egypt with us. Surely it was so.  
Which when our Father heard, he sighed and said,  
I thought the Corn had been already paid.  
Must I the pledge of Rachel's love forsake,  
Or else want Corn which I do so much lack?  
Certainly this is hard, I am right loath,  
Seeing one is not, now to part with both.  
Poor joseph's death torments me yet with grief,  
Only this Boy, he gives me some relief;  
If ye then seek me of him to deprive  
I must breathe out my last, and ye ne'er thrive.  
This, Sir, said he, if any truth there be  
In man, was said by him, and more to me.  
You being Judge, can any thing be worse  
Than for a Child to have the Father's curse?  
But if I could dispense with that, what can  
I say to him when come to Canaan?  
His life being bound with his, of this I'm sure,  
Without the one the other can't endure.  
Besides, to him for this I surety came,  
Saying, if he come not, let me bear the blame  
For ever. Now let me the favour find  
To stay in place of him; pray, Sir, be kind,  
And send the Boy unto his Father back  
With joy, that he in him may pleasure take.  
Great Sir, if you old Age admire, relief  
Grant, be not Author of our Father's grief.  
This dext'rous Plea with Joseph took such place.  
As it was soon known by his changed Face,  
Whose frowns do vanish, and his threats are gone;  
Love makes him cry, Go out, leave me alone.  
He who of late spoke rough and threatened all,  
Now weepeth loud, and on their necks doth fall.  
What means our Ruler? Is not this a wonder,  
That he who to th'Egyptians speaks like Thunder,  
Should be so much transported as to cry,  
And none but these eleven Strangers by!  
Dear Hearts, I'm Joseph, doth my Father live?  
Said he; to which they could no answer give:  
His unexpected Greatness and their fault  
Daunts them as vanquished soldiers new assault,  
Till he cries Quarter, and bids shake off fear,  
Saying, I am Joseph whom ye sold, and here  
Was brought by Merchants; Come, be not afraid,  
It was not you, but God that for your aid  
Had ordered all things, and for preservation  
Of life hath given unworthy me this Station.  
Two years already hath the Famine been  
In Egypt Land, and five yet is not seen,  
In which 'twill be in vain to blow the Land,  
Because the Mower shall not fill his hand;  
Wherefore your God and mine sent me before,  
That I for you and for your houses store  
Should make provision; he whom I do serve  
Me hither sent that I might life preserve,  
And thought me fittest all the Corn to gather  
That was in Egpypt, and be Pharaohs Father.  
Haste then, go up to the Old Man and say,  
Thus saith thy Son that was not, I this day  
Am Lord of Egypt, so made by my God,  
Who wills that thou come down and make abode  
With me, and Goshen for thy dwelling place  
Accept, it's near, there thou mayst see my face.  
Thy Children, Flocks, and all shall nourished be;  
Nothing that's thine shall taste of poverty  
In these five years of Famine. Cast your eye  
And view my Limbs and Features, it is I;  
And let my Brother Benjamin the Youth  
Look well upon me; Is it not my mouth  
That speaketh these things? pray also declare  
Unto my Father what my Glories are  
In Egypt, and persuade him to make haste  
To come, and quickly of my Favours taste.  
Then turned he unto Benjamin, and said,  
Joy of my Heart, how well am I now paid  
For all my wishes and my prayers for thee!  
Who am admitted once again to see  
My father's image and my mother's face  
In thine, dear Brother; God give thee his grace.  
This said, in token of his true respect,  
He weeps and kisses, falls upon his neck;  
And he again, as far as modesty  
Permitted, wept and kissed most ardently.  
Which though in secret done cannot be hid;  
The Court takes notice what the Ruler did:  
And that his Brethren come they Pharaoh tell,  
Who said, I'm glad. Servants, they like it well.  
Come in, said Pharaoh, Zaph; I mean to see,  
Whether thy father Jacob be like thee.  
Send for him into Egypt, where his store  
Shall be so much, that he shall wish no more.  
This is my will, I hope you'll not neglect  
To pay your father all the true respect  
You own: and for their better commodation  
Choose out of Wagons best in all the nation  
For them; the little ones, and all their stores,  
Being persuaded that the land is yours.  
As one who's willing to obey his Lord,  
And serve his Father, Joseph doth accord.  
Horses and Chariots quickly are prepared  
By him, who for provision nothing spared.  
For each of ten had from him change of ,  
But to his brother Ben. gave five of those.  
Three hundred pieces as a token he  
Unto him gave 'bove what his cost should be:  
His Fathers Present it is greater far,  
For unto him ten Asses loaded are  
With finest Gold, that might supply his need,  
And other ten loaden with Corn and Bread,  
That might sustain his Father in the way;  
All which he doth with small or no delay:  
And then commands that they should thence departed,  
With seeming joy, yet grieved at the heart,  
Lest they his Brother Benjamin molest,  
At parting from them, thus himself expressed;  
Brethren, I hope ye will all cordial be,  
Till ye to Jacob bring good news of me,  
Telling him I do live and wish him health,  
And hope that he will see me and my wealth.  
This do, and so I hope God will you bring  
Unto the old man, who is languishing  
For your long stay. These are the whole commands  
Wherewith I wish you kiss my Father's hands.  
At home with bowed knees they all salute  
Their aged Father, who for Joy stood mute,  
When he had heard that Joseph was alive,  
Ruler in Egypt, and therein did thrive;  
For sometimes he believed, and sometimes not,  
Because they'd told him that the Lad was not.  
But to confirm the truth they all declare  
What with the Ruler their adventures were,  
And how he served them e'er he let them know  
Whose Son he was, or what he did them owe;  
And also show him all the Wagons trim  
That should to's Son in Egypt carry him.  
These seen, his fainting Spirit did revive,  
saying, Well, it is enough if Joseph be alive.  
Help Lord, for now my Son I must go see  
In Egypt land; this done, then let me die.  
No sooner had the next Aurora bright  
With blushing Skies succeeded gloomy Night,  
Then Father Israel to his Char'ot hies,  
And rests not till Beersheba he descries,  
Where resting, he commandeth to erect  
An Altar, whence he might his Pra'rs direct  
And Sacrifices to the God of Heaven,  
Because his odd Sons were again made even.  
That he a prosperous success might have,  
Of Isaac's God he doth protection crave  
In's Journey, and for length of days implores,  
Till he had seen young Joseph and his Stores.  
He had not fully ended his devotion,  
When Sun's departure, and the Starry motion  
Invited him to leave and to take rest.  
No, no, saith Jacob, there is no such haste,  
I once again will of my God inquire,  
If he my going Egypt-ward desire;  
If he be willing, I will not be slack,  
But if he be not, than I will turn back.  
This said, from Heaven he heard a sudden voice  
saying, Jacob, Jacob, fear not, but rejoice;  
Since I have been thy fathers and thy God,  
Well be, go there, and settle thy abode,  
The truth to show of this my promise made,  
I'll make thy seed as sand on Seashore laid.  
This mighty Nation shall victorious be,  
After four hundred years, when my decree  
Shall be fulfilled: then fear not down to go,  
I'll guide thee there, and bring thee up also.  
No comfort will I from thee keep, thou sees  
Thy son who was not, he shall close thine eyes.  
Good Jacob ravished with those hea'vnly news  
Risen up in haste, and to his sons all shows,  
And then commands, with speed that they prepare  
All things which needful for their journey were.  
The Coaches ready, some their father heave,  
Some stand within him ready to receive;  
Their wives and children have their proper place  
Into the same: and Coachmen drive apace.  
Their  also, which were numerous,  
Gold, Silver, Jewels, Treasures ponderous  
Purchased in Canaan, these they did transport  
To Egypt, whither then they did resort.  
Thus Jacob leaves Canaan, and his seed  
Do follow him, because they wanted bread:  
His Sons, his Daughters, and his Nephews all,  
Are now descended at the Dreamers call:  
Whose exact number than was but three score  
And ten, of which three had been there before,  
Joseph the father, and his children two,  
Manass. and Ephra'm, than he had no more.  
When they th' Egyptian borders did descry,  
Jacob to's fourth son Judah loud did cry,  
Go down to Joseph, bid him tell me where  
He will me place, I am a stranger there:  
Tell him at Goshen I will tarry while  
He come or send, and show me what's his will:  
And howsoever he dispose of me,  
His word or work to me a law shall be.  
As soon as Judah did his brother greet  
With these glad tidings, he prepares to meet  
His aged father, and before him stands,  
Bows, begs his blessing with uplifted hands.  
And he again (for joy his son to see)  
Falls on his neck, kissing it ardently,  
Weeps and embraces; so that all admire  
The strong affections of his aged Sire,  
Who cried aloud, O Joseph, Jeseph, now,  
My darling Joseph, I am sure that thou  
Dost live; then this I of my God will crave,  
That he my spirit may in haste receive,  
Since I am wholly eased of the woe  
Hath me perplexed these twenty years and two.  
Then Joseph, who had all this time been stop  
By tears, which from his Princely eyes had dropped,  
Said, Father, welcome. Now I must go home  
And tell the King that all of you are come,  
Who (I am sure) at this will much rejoice,  
And give command that I of you dispose  
Where best convenience may for you be had;  
For this to me he hath already said.  
And I will tell (if he to know desire)  
That you are Shepherds, and you aim no higher.  
When therefore he shall ask of you this thing,  
You shall confirm my words by answering,  
We and our Father Keepers are of Sheep;  
Which he'll no sooner hear then's promise keep,  
And give you Goshen, where you safely shall  
Your tender Flocks graze, and your  all;  
Your dwellings also he will set apart:  
For Shepherds grieve Egyptians at the heart.  
Now Joseph leaves his Father in that place,  
Returns and speaks with Pharaoh Face to Face,  
Saying, my Father and his Family  
Are (with their Substance) come to visit thee.  
Joseph, said Pharaoh, of this take my hand,  
I'm glad to see thy Father in my Land.  
Call some of them, and let them see my Face,  
Assure thyself they shall with me find grace.  
I will, said Joseph, than he quickly takes  
Five of his Brethren, and a Present makes  
To Pharaoh, who did instantly inquire  
What is your Trade, or what will you desire?  
We're Shepherds and Sojourners in this Land,  
Whose greatest errand is to kiss thy hand;  
The next to see our Brother, and have place  
Our Flocks to feed; in Canaan there's no grass:  
The piercing Drought so scorched hath the land,  
That there is nothing to be seen but Sand:  
If therefore we shall of thee favour find,  
Grant's Goshen Pastures, and for this we'll bind  
Ourselves to be thy Subjects, and our Seed  
Of thee and thine shall stand in Kingly dread.  
Then Pharaoh unto Joseph did reply;  
Since they're come down, what will I them deny?  
My Crown but spare, and ask what e'er they please;  
I'll give all things conducing to their ease.  
My Land's before them: as for their request,  
In Goshen for them Dwellings make in haste.  
And for a greater proof of love to thee,  
Choose out among them some will active be,  
And put my  all into their hands;  
Their hire from me let it be Gold and Lands.  
But pray thee Joseph, where's thy aged Sire,  
His face to see I have a great desire.  
Greatest of Kings you shall, lo, here he is.  
This said, old Israel doth great Pharaoh bless,  
Saying, my Lord the King of Kings protect  
Your Sacred Person; and since you respect  
Me and my Sons, I'll never cease to pray  
For you with hands to Heaven lift night and day.  
My thanks, said Pharaoh, now I must be bold  
To ask one question, I would know how old  
Thou art? Good Jacob soon this answer made;  
An hundred thirty summers I have had;  
As many winters have I also been  
In pilgrimage, unsettled I mean:  
Yet few and evil, if you'll deign to look  
Upon a Line in this my Table-book,  
Where is inserted faithful Abraham's age,  
An hundred and seventy five his stage  
Completes, my father Isaac lived five more;  
Though all this time their grievances were sore.  
This said, the old man looking round about,  
Blesseth the King, taketh leave, and walketh out.  
Now come (said he) Son, since you know I have  
Your King's good will, a fitting place I crave,  
Where I and all my Children safe may be  
From all Sedition and Conspiracy.  
Then Joseph beckoned to his Sire, and said,  
Ramese is the best that can be had;  
There take possession, this my Lord commands.  
These are your Writings signed with our hands.  
The famine's great, yet Joseph wills that he  
Since come to Egypt have no scarcity  
Of bread, tho'in Canaaned Egypt there was want,  
In so much that the most began to faint  
For hunger, but that Egypt's Nursing Father  
Its currant money into stores did gather.  
And such as from Canaan was brought to buy  
Corn, he doth put into th' Treasury.  
Now Egypt's money doth begin to waste,  
Which made the Natives run to him in haste,  
And say, Sir, you must grant us fresh supply  
Of bread and corn, or else for want we die.  
There's none but you can grant us any aid.  
Who answered, 've got as much as paid:  
But this my counsel is, which if you take,  
To bring your  you will not be slack,  
And them for corn and bread exchange with me.  
What profit they if you of famine die?  
The hunger-starved Egyptians at this  
Do much rejoice, yea and with blessing bless  
The Ruler, and with cheerful hearts do bring  
Their Horses, , Flocks, and every thing,  
Except their Land, all's laid at joseph's feet,  
Who willingly received, and gave them meat.  
Poor creatures, they had good cause to fear,  
For this provision ended with that year,  
Was but the fixth since that great want began,  
When it was ended they to Joseph ran  
Again for more, lay'ng out their wretched case,  
And saying to him, We must die alas!  
Our Money gone, our  you did crave,  
We brought them, now our Land is all we have;  
Come buy this also: let's not starved be,  
And we ourselves will serve our King and thee.  
Let us have Seed that we again may try  
Whether our Land as yet will fructify.  
At this his tender heart is filled with grief,  
And eyes with tears, which way for their relief  
Procures, for he to Pharaoh makes it o'er,  
Making him Landlord who was King before.  
Their ancient Live he bids them forsake,  
And for the future other Dwellings take,  
For which they should to Pharaoh Egypt's King,  
As to the owner yearly Rend in bring.  
But to the Priests there was more kindness shown,  
Who parted with no Land that was their own;  
For they on that which was to them allowed,  
Lived all that while as when the Land was ploughed.  
Then Joseph said, Behold! I have you buught,  
Your land and all; I'm sure there is not aught  
Which is not Pharaohs, wherefore take you Seed  
And sow in haste, I know you will not need  
To fear the Famine, this is the last year  
Of Egypt's drought, you know hath cost you dear;  
It's former increase you again shall have,  
Of which a Fifth Part I will yearly crave  
For Pharaoh's use, the Four that is behind  
Dispose of that according to your mind,  
For Seed, for Food, for you and for your Store;  
Fear not, it will be fruitful as before.  
With bowed heads and cheerful countenance  
They thus reply, Since we our sustenance  
These barren years had from our Lord and thee  
Be gracious to us, we your Servants be.  
It is enough we live to serve our King,  
What he commands, that will we to him bring.  
Only the Priests did this great Tax escape,  
For all they sowed, all to themselves they reap.  
Behold, the kindness of an Heathen King,  
To those who did but hellish Sophisms sing.  
Yet all this while Joseph hath not forgot  
To settle on Jacob the most happy Lot  
In all the Land of Goshen, where he might  
Dwell happily, and have thereof full right.  
Now that Gods Promise might fulfilled be,  
He multiplies and grows exceedingly.  
When he in Egypt 17 years had been  
Most prosperous, and his Sons glory seen  
Of Age a 147, than he  
Prepares himself Deaths Captive for to be;  
For calling Joseph's Father and his Child,  
And looking with a countenance most mild,  
Dear Son, said he, Age makes me now believe  
That I must Egypt and my Children leave.  
This heard, the Ruler's heart is filled with grief,  
And Eyes with tears. No Son there's no relief,  
Said Jacob, Seventeen years I've lived in thee,  
Now 'tis enough, my God I must go see.  
Yet while I live one thing I must implore,  
Grant it my Child, as thou hast done much more;  
Which is, when dead, that then in Canaan I  
May buried be, and with my Father's lie.  
This granted, he commands him for to swear  
That he his Corpse to Macpelah will bear;  
And then in token of his thankfulness  
He leans on's Bed, and doth his Maker bless.  
Sad tidings soon sounds in the Ruler's ear  
After's departure, that his Father dear  
Was ill at ease, and willed him in haste  
To pay'm a Visit e'er his life was passed:  
Who willed quickly that his Children too  
Should ready be, for they must with him go  
To see their Grandsire, it is his command;  
Obeying, they in travelling posture stand:  
Scarce had they entered into the Town  
When one to Jacob hastily runs down,  
And tells him that his Sons and his two O'es  
Were come to see his end, and to dispose  
Of him: this heard, he once again revives,  
And to set up upon his bed he strives;  
Saying to Joseph, God appeared to me,  
When I from Esau's fury down did flee  
To Padan Aram, and at Luz me gave  
The Promise that I should Canaan have,  
And blessed me, saying, that of my Blood  
Should there be born even a huge multitude,  
It to possess until Time's fullness shall  
Come, when they for their Sins shall from it fall.  
Then since I'm sure that all the Land is mine,  
I'll give a share unto these two of thine,  
Were born in Egypt e'er I hither came,  
As Reuben, Simeon, these shall bear my name;  
But all the rest are since by thee begot,  
They shall be thine, and have of thee their Lot  
Among their Brethren, yet they must not be  
Called Heads or Tribes of their posterity.  
But whose are these two Youths that stand me by?  
If they be thine, then let them both draw nigh  
That I may bless them, being glad to see  
Thyself once more, and thy posterity.  
Now having kissed them, he said, Once I thought  
ne'er to have seen thee, nor be hither brought;  
But blessed be that God who spared me  
Joseph, Manass. and Ephra'm for to see.  
This done, he takes them from between his Feet,  
Making them stand before him as was meet:  
Manass. on's left, and Ephra'm on's right stand,  
That on them both at once he might lay hand;  
But he inspired of God looks not to years,  
Nor yet for Doteage the firstborn forbears:  
For on the younger he lays on his right,  
In him it seems God had the most delight,  
Minding to make him Head of all the Tribe,  
Without respect of person, age, or bribe.  
Then to his Son he said, now I will crave  
That you all Blessings of that God may have,  
With whom my Sire and Grandsire both did walk,  
And with him often face to face did talk,  
Who from Canaan led me out this way,  
And hath me fed at all times as this day.  
The Angel Great, which doth my Soul redeem,  
Bless both the Lads, and have them in esteem:  
And let them have mine and my father's name;  
Make thou them great, do thou enlarge their fame,  
Increase their seed for number as the sand  
On the Seashore in their Grandfathers Land.  
But Joseph wroth to see the form invert,  
Says to his father grieved at the heart,  
Not so (dear Sir,) this is the eldest boy;  
Put here your right, he is the only joy  
Of me his father. No, saith Jacob, no;  
Though what you say be true I rightwell know;  
Yet fear not, for he shall be very great,  
But this much more, neither by strength nor fate,  
But by that power that laid the Earth's foundations  
He shall become a multitude of Nations.  
Such blessings that day he to Joseph gave,  
As greater after Israel should not crave.  
If any can but Ephra'ms bliss obtain,  
It will be ever counted greatest gain.  
Then Jacob said, Behold, I die; but God  
Shall visit you, and while you have abode  
In Egypt, he will ever be a Watch,  
Lest by these Heathens any harm ye catch,  
And bring you up into your father's land;  
He, he will do it by's Almighty hand.  
Moreover thou from me hast got a portion,  
Which I ne'er purchased by craft or extortion  
From th' Amorites, but by my sword and bow;  
This on thyself and thine I do bestow.  
Now Jacob finding 's last glass almost out,  
Calls for his sons, who compass him about,  
Listening for what he thither did them call;  
Who said, Sons, hear what will to you befall  
In the last days, when your old father's gone,  
Strengthen yourselves, your trouble comes anon.  
Reuben my eldest, pray do thou draw near  
To me thy Parent, and thy verdict hear:  
In dignity thou didst excel and power  
Thy brethren all, until that fatal hour  
When to thy father's bed thou didst advance;  
This made me rob thee of th' Inheritance.  
Because as water thou unstable waist,  
Thy Eminence and Dignity is past.  
This said, from him he turns his face about  
To Sim. and Levi, whose sentence goeth out:  
You brethren are by consanguinity,  
And no less allied in your cruelty.  
Your habitations they are full of blood,  
And might you grieve if rightly understood;  
For in your anger you the Sech'mites slew,  
Robbing the Town of riches not a few;  
The City also razed unto the ground;  
Such horrid Facts, I think, hath not been found.  
Cursed be your anger, I will you divide  
'Mong other Tribes as strangers to abide.  
As for thee, Judah, thou shalt praised be  
By all thy Brethren and Posterity;  
Thy Foes thou shalt subdue, and they adore  
Shall thee with princely Homage, nay, and more,  
As Lion fierce is terrible, so thou  
Shalt be to all, and all thou shalt subdue.  
Yea, for a greater Blessing thou shalt hold  
Thy kingly Sceptre till Predictions old  
Shall come to pass, and the Messiah shall  
Come from thy Loins, and rid men out of thrall;  
And all thy Land be filled with best of Wine,  
Thy Grapes shall yield great store of Liquor fine;  
So that thou may, as in a mighty flood  
Thy Garments wash into the grapie blood.  
Zebulun, thou shalt still a dweller be  
In pleasant places situate by the Sea,  
So that by Shipping thou mayst have commerce  
With other Nations who of Ware are scarce:  
Thy Borders also I will so extend,  
That they in length shall come to Zidon's end.  
Son Issachar, I know thine inclination  
Is such, that thou desir'st a quiet station,  
Free from command, and still will bowing be  
Thy back to all the burdens laid on thee.  
Dan, as an Adder or a Serpent sly  
Thou to thine Enemies evermore shalt be,  
And subtly shall all of them overthrow,  
If not their Head, I'm sure thou'lt sting below,  
And now, O Lord, since well I know this Boy  
Shall enemies have that will him much annoy,  
Do thou assist him in's extremity,  
That at the last he may victo'rous be.  
Gad, much affliction doth on thee attend,  
Yet all those Troops thou'lt conquer in the end.  
Asher, Earth's fullness shall be thy Lot,  
Affording Royal Dainties and what not.  
Naphthali, on both parts thou dextrous are,  
Lover of Peace, and yet can follow War.  
Joseph, thou as a fruitful Bough shalt be,  
Set by a Wall, thy Grapes shall multiply,  
And Branches by the Sun's reflections shall  
Grow to such height as shall surmount a Wall.  
Though Brethren, Jempsar, Potiphar, all three  
Thy life did seek, and Arrows shot at thee,  
Yet God, thy God thy Bow kept in such strength,  
That spite of all, thou didst overcome at length,  
And made the Shepherd to his Isra'l-flock  
So that thou was to them both Staff and Rock.  
From God, thy Father's God thou shalt receive  
All things soever thou desir'st to have.  
Is't pleasant Seasons? this the mighty hand  
Will grant to thee, do but the same demand.  
Is't liquid Fountains? Fowls that flying be,  
Or Fishes? Call, 'tis he commands the Sea.  
Is't food or clothing? Beasts on every hill  
Are his; I know thou'lt have them at thy will.  
Or is it Children? Do but them desire,  
He'll grant so many shall make thee admire:  
Thy Grandsire's blessing, Isaac's, mine, all three  
While hills endure shall ever bide with thee;  
And on his head they ever shall remain,  
Whom cruel brethren thought once to have slain.  
Benjamin, thou shalt still a Warrior be,  
And ever have thy sword upon thy thigh,  
To kill and rob, and to divide the spoil,  
Thou shalt be bend, and think of it no toil.  
Here have you jacob's sons all numbered;  
Here have ye all that he unto them said.  
Here all the blessings he before his death  
In his last Legacy did to them bequeath;  
Here is the charge that he unto them gave  
Concerning's burial in the Hittite's Cave,  
Which Abra'm bought in Ephrons' field to be  
A burial-place for his posterity.  
Here was he buried and his Sarah dear:  
Rebecea ' and Isaac were interred here.  
Here Leah also laid into this field,  
For which Abra'm did five score pieces yield  
Unto the sons of Heth, who were right loathe  
It to receive, till he had sworn an Oath,  
That of them he would not take it for nought,  
They do agree, the Cave is sold and bought.  
Ah! I have spoke too long, my Spirits fail,  
Said Jacob, see my Face and Hands grow pale.  
This scarce was uttered when his Heart had lost  
Its faculties, and he gives up the Ghost.  
When Joseph saw the death of's aged Sire,  
His filial love the Brethren all admire,  
Who said, thou'rt gone, and I am left alone,  
Oh! thou art gone, I cannot choose but moan.  
Oh! thou art gone, my only Father dear.  
Oh! thou being gone, what comfort have I here?  
At this the tears so rushed from his Eyes,  
That no by-stander could withhold their cries;  
For he his pale Face kissed and cried aloud  
To the Physicians who about him stood,  
Come take this Body, take it out from me,  
Embalm it well, let nothing wanting be.  
This his command they willingly embrace,  
Taking his Father from before his Face,  
And sweetest smelling Spices do prepare,  
For this last Rite, he had enough to spare.  
They never rested for six Weeks a day  
His Corpse to dress e'er he was ta'en away.  
Is this all? No, a Winder greater far,  
The Outlaw Heathen for him Mourners are  
Nine Weeks of Days; which ended, Joseph takes  
His Fellow-Rulers by, and to them speaks,  
You know in Egypt 'tis a strict Decree  
That none in Mourning may with Phara● be,  
Nor any conference in this posture have  
With him, for which I earnestly do crave  
That you would go and make the King acquaint  
That my old Father, while his pulse was faint,  
Commanded me to swear a solemn Oath  
(Should I it break, I think he will be loath.)  
That I should bury them in his Father's Grave,  
Pray bid him grant it, this is all I crave.  
And if he fear that I will not come back,  
He may my Sons of me for Pledges take.  
Thus leaving Joseph, all of them departed,  
Who waiteth their return with grieved heart.  
No sooner had they told the King his case,  
Than he with sighing answered, Alas!  
Is Jacob dead, my Father-Rulers Father?  
And shall I hinder? Nay, I'll further rather.  
Make all the haste he can, then come to me,  
Till his return I shall not quiet be.  
When Joseph heard the King's benevolence,  
He thanked the Rulers and departed thence.  
Then called all his Servants and his Kindred,  
Who come unto him, none of them is hindered:  
The Kings own Servants and the Rulers be  
In readiness the Corpse to company.  
Then Joseph doth this Funeral Journey take  
With more than Thousands armed at his back.  
E'er Titan risen from out his watery Bed,  
Or with his spangled Traces overspread  
The spacious Azure, Chariots make a noise,  
At which the prancing Horses all rejoice;  
Coachmen drive hard, so that e'er it was nigh  
Sunsetting next, Canaan they espy.  
To't yet, said Joseph, here we will not rest,  
But will to Atad, where we shall have best  
Accommodation for our numerous Train;  
I know the place, it is a spacious Plain  
Well hedged in; there we may safely lie  
Until the rest we for the Funeral buy.  
This was concluded, and o'er Jordan they  
Came, to the place of their appointed stay;  
Where ' lighting down, their Mourners so cried out  
For full seven days, that all were round about  
Came running for to see what it might be  
Made all these strangers weep so bitterly,  
Whose sympathy admired the place they call  
Abel-mizraim unto Ages all.  
This Ceremony ended, they the Vow  
Perform, made to their Father while below,  
And buried him in his Grandsires' Cave;  
This was the last thing he did of them crave.  
Now Joseph to his Pharaoh doth return,  
Who for his absence never ceased to mourn.  
thou'rt welcome Joseph, said the Egyptian King,  
What news dost thou to me from Canaan bring?  
All good my Lord, with which he made a bow;  
But, Ah! I fear I've stayed too long from you.  
No, no, I'm glad again to see thy face,  
Said he, for still thou shalt with me find grace.  
By this time's brethren's hearts began to burn,  
Thinking that he soon after his return  
Would them afflict for their long covered crime,  
Which to prevent, a Messenger in time  
They send to Joseph, who this message bore;  
Our, and thy Father who is now in glore,  
Commanded us thy Pardon for to crave,  
Though we deserved other things to have  
For our outrageous spite and cruelty,  
Which we contrived against thee, guiltless thee,  
By seeking of thy spotless blood to spill,  
Whilst thou our good foretold, and not our ill.  
The hearing this his tender soul did smart,  
Whose watery Eyes it witnessed in part:  
What? What? said he, and do they me mistrust  
As soon as I my Father in the dust  
Have laid? No, no, Dear Hearts, they need not fea●  
I will to them a great affection bear;  
Were I vindictive, yet that would not do,  
That God is strong who still preferveth you.  
You willed indeed revenge upon my blood,  
Yet all your malice turned to my good.  
'Twas not your aim when you poor Joseph sold,  
That he 'mong Egypt's Worthies should be rolled  
No, no, 'mong Slaves; in this ye all combined,  
But my good God had better things designed,  
Your preservation, though ye made a prey  
Of me to Merchants, as you see this day,  
Wherefore take courage, I will you preserve,  
Your guilt I'll pardon, and with food I'll serve  
You and your Flocks according to your mind,  
Am I not Joseph, can I be but kind?  
Haste, haste my Muse, now thou must make an end,  
That Pearl of price whom God did hither send,  
Hath now ten Winters and 100 seen,  
As many Summers, of which he hath been  
Fourscore and seven in the Egyptian Land,  
Alway's upholden by th' Almighty's hand.  
And now he sees of his own procreation  
In his last days a triple generation.  
Then finding's vital Spirits begin to fail,  
And Death ensuing, who would take no Bail,  
He calls his Brethren as his Father did,  
And then unfolds a Mystery lay hid  
Concerning their departure to the place  
Promised to Abram and his following race,  
And doth desire that all of them might swear  
That they to Canaan shall his Body bear  
When dead, and lay him in his Father's Grave,  
Which they might find into the Hittites cave.  
Here Joseph dies, being of a good old Age.  
Here Joseph dies a chaste and holy Sage.  
Here Joseph leaves his Pharaoh and departs,  
Here Joseph leaves his Friends with grieved hearts  
Here with him dies all jacob's Offsprings glory,  
In Egypt, and the Period of his Story.   
FINIS.