Triumphant Chastity: OR, JOSEPHS SELF-CONFLICT, When by his Mistress he was enticed to ADULTERY. SHOWING The powerful Motions betwixt the FLESH and the SPIRIT. A Divine POEM, Illustrated with several Copper-Plates and Emblems suitable to the Subject.  
By JO. QVARLES.  
LONDON: Printed for Benjamin Crayle, in St. Paul's Churchyard. MDCLXXXIV.   

 Engraving of person with two dogs 
SELF-CONFLICT represented in a Dispute between JOSEPH and POTIPHARS WIFE A DIVINE POEM.  
Printed for R. 〈…〉    

TO THE READER.  
THou hast here the fruits of some Lucubrations and vacant hours, which to me have paid the pains in Translating; and I dare say they will thine in Reading, if thou hast not more Itching Ears after loftier strains than without doubt I can tender, than Sanctified Desires after wholesome and profitable Matter rendered unto thee. Indeed else it were a pity Gold should be rejected, because presented unto thee in a Homely Vessel; or Sovereign Counsel, because not sung to thee by a Cowley, or a Milton; the very footsteps of either of which, thou art not like here to found.  
My hopes shall be, however, to meet with some few, who will not dash their advantages in pieces, by carping at me, who am herein no more than the Friendly Bearer; and to these I would intimate what remains to be said of the Work itself, for their further satisfaction.  
It's Subject than is a Christians Warfare; or, do come up to its Title, His Conflict with himself. If thou art a Christian indeed, thou art a Soldier, and must fight continually; not Sensually with Earthly Powers, but Spiritually with all the Powers of Darkness; where thou wilt found the most puissant and dangerous Enemy thou hast to grapple with, thine own self: and with these, as thou must fight continually, so over these all thou must be sure to be victorious, or they will triumph over thee, which will be in thy inevitable Destruction. Skill therefore in this so myrious a Warfare, will be of greatest importance to thee, which, saith my Author, doth consist, In knowing thine own Weakness, the Strength of thine Adversaries, and the Remedy against both. To whose following Discourses than, for excellent Directions herein, it falls in now aptly for me only to refer thee.  
And yet this induceth me to say thus much more before I leave thee here, that by reading thou mayst perceive thy glozing Corruptions using, in the person of Josephs Mistress, the most cogent Expressions to charm thee into consent to their Exuberous Desires: And by proceeding immediately to those Replies, carried on in the person of Joseph, thou hast the application of more Sovereign Antidotes to kill or enervate such (else irresistible) Charms, either in the birth or riper growth, within thee.  
Yet here, jest the tender Conscience might check at the Libidinous and Profane Language necessarily made use of by my Author; he clears that Scruple from the like practice in David, who useth Wicked Expressions, but in the Persons of the Wicked; and in Solomon, who writes Lewdly, but in the Persons of Lewd Women, etc. Where likewise, among others, he satisfies his honest-minded Reader with this redundant and significant Similitude, That the Rose receives advantage in it fragrancy, by being planted near Garlic.  
The Style is Verse, that so no Advantage may be denied the Flesh in this her public Trial; or, as my Author would have it, that the Scope may with the more inevitable force penetrate the Heart, as the sonorous harmony of a Trumpet doth, through the narrow passage of its body, the Ear; and than I may add, that the young Reader may through a happy kind of guile, be caught with pleasure to his own Souls advantage.  
The Variations, Amplifications, and Additions made use of in this Translation, will I hope easily be excused, if not judged necessary; especially where the difference between Translating and Construing, and the unconstrained freedom of Verse is considered.  
And now having given thee what I hope may satisfy thee, as to the Work itself; I would now only superadded a brief Account of the Author, and of the particular success of this excellent Piece of his, both at home and abroad: And this shall be all I shall at this time say of both.  
As to the Author, Holland (whose Lord Pensioner he was) could not detain him long in that 
* It is remarkable, that among the latter Pensioners in Holland, the Heer Cats only died in Peace upon his Bed.  Fatal Dignity, which he happily resigned at a seasonable time, for a Retired Life at his beloved Zorgfliet; where giving more ample liberty to his incomparable Mind, he lets it all flow to his Countrymen in Castalian Numbers, until at length, (he living to a good old age) they together completed a very Large Volume; which he hath left filled with the profitablest variety of delight, both Moral and Divine, that in that kind (there) had ever been extant.  
And now as to the success of this small part of his Studies, (esteemed by the most, one of the most worthy) it hath met with such kind and general acceptation at Home, that there it hath been often Printed in all sorts of Volumes; nor hath it found lesle abroad, where in Germany it was by different hands, almost at one and the same time, Translated and Printed.  
Herewithal I will now leave thee, and refer thee to the Work itself, in the perusal of which, I hearty wish thy benefit and delight.  
Farewell.   

THE ENTERTAINMENT.  
 a crest or coat of arms (?) depicting a dead (?) weasel (?) surmounted by fronds and a crown ONE ●…E OR ●OUGHT.  
IN fulsome dung, thou who a beast dost here  
Behold enclosed, and pondering dost appear,  
The meaning to desire, thy thoughts compose,  
My Song the while shall thee the mind disclose.  
Of cleanlyest Creatures in this Ring enchased,  
Thou one beholdest, by unkind hands there placed,  
Of name the Ermine; one by nature bend  
To be untainted with aught foul; now penned  
In putrid Muck: behold, no pains dispute  
May 'scape procure, unless it will pollute  
In filth its fur; but hating most a blot,  
It faints, oppressed with famine, on the Plot.  
The choice is sharp: or it must dye, or see  
That now its Coat in Mire defiled must be;  
Yet such its mind, that in this huge dismay,  
Cod death it chooseth▪ and concludes its day;  
Where lo, though dying, with what wondrous care  
It softly sinks, jest it should blot a hair?  
There now it lies stretched out upon the plain,  
Grim death embracing, to be free of stain.  
Thus far the Emblem, which the mind displays  
Of Jacobs Joseph, which his pious ways  
And Conquest shows by him of lust obtained,  
Of lust, so strongly which in's Mistress reigned.  
Not youthful dalliance relished with his mind,  
He far more pleasure in chaste thoughts did found;  
Though carbonading lust did him assail,  
He stood unmoved, nor could that lust prevail.  
A Lady he to him beholds inclined  
With unchaste love, young, fair, and rich; his mind  
Yet her resists: she balmy joys presents,  
He God prefers, her joys as vice resents.  
She pleads: Alone, we're safe from prying eye.  
But he returns: Yet God doth us descry.  
Than she: My Lord abroad, none obvious stand  
To cross our loves. He than: But God's at hand  
She adds: Youth prompts us to this am notes play.  
But he: Yet youth must wedlock rules obey.  
She cries, My fervent flames O quench, I fry.  
Than he: To them no stranger may come nigh.  
Yet she: Slave to my will thou'rt bought to be.  
But not to sin, returns he; there I'm free.  
By reason foiled, she threatens plagues unkind.  
But he makes clear: Naught hurts a peaceful mind.  
She storms, but he's composed, threats doth abide  
And curses from her; prays, and steps aside,  
Till she lays lastly hold. Skilled in this fight,  
He then his cloak let's go, and flees her fight.  
Wonder of men! 'twas Joseph, in thy prime  
Of youthful days; the verdure of thy time,  
When thou thy flesh subdu'dst. In ways of truth  
O guide! and pattern rare for tender youth!  
Assist my numbers, let my flowing Verse,  
As is his due, his solid praise rehearse,  
If that can be: And thou thus Laureate,  
Vouchsafe, though slender, to commemorate  
Thy victories renown, chaste Boy, that we  
May read with wonder, and thy followers be.  
But Zoïlus is come; methinks I hear  
His murmuring Sons at our blessed Joseph jeer.  
Whom they a mind devoid of Spirit name,  
A vein of blood, a torch of spriteful flame.  
But sure abused in reasonings you appear,  
O sons of error: better reason hear.  
Is freedom yours? 'tis than an easy case  
In times when lewd, to run a sinful race.  
Nor is it hard when youthful eyes espy  
A beauty, straight in lustful flames to fry.  
For lo, how facile 'tis to lose the rain  
That curbs the flesh, that doth its lust restrain.  
Nor easy lesle, when pregnant showers do flow  
To you of wealth, than earthly souled to grow.  
If love, if honour wait on you, if gain;  
Such things with pleasure you can entertain.  
But when the flesh with overmatching power,  
Storms on the Soul like a tempestuous shower;  
That manly breast that stands, that will not yield,  
A Champion worthy is to Lord the field.  
Vain worldly men those Spirits valiant praise,  
That Army's rout, that walled Cities raze:  
But in deeds truly brave, none higher rise,  
Than such a mind who it's own lusts denies.  
Let than Cimmerian ignorance revile,  
Whilst virtue triumphs with a peaceful smile.  
But thou, if young, let this example thee,  
So chaste, so virtuous, so Divine to be.   


THE INTRODUCTION.  
WHen Potiphar 's fair Wife in various kind,  
Had often undressed the passions of her mind  
To youthful Joseph, and when this her pain  
In sighs she showed, but ever sighed in vain;  
Yet would she not for this the palm resign,  
But having fixed a new-framed design,  
Secured her household, ordered the hour,  
Lo, yet once more she summons all her power.  
Much like a Prince, who with success unblessed  
A walled Town hath long with War distressed,  
Now draws up all his Men, and with a cry  
Once more sets on to gain the place, or dye:  
So she; who now had well observed the room  
In which she knew young Joseph was to come,  
Where when the youth alone she spied, thus she  
Her mind displayed, as she might entering be.   
SEPHYRA. 
HOw long, sweet boy, shall scorn thy breast possess  
Towards my grief, and I in vain express  
That grief to thee! how long a suppliant knee  
Shall I yet bend, unentertained by thee?  
The more my sighs discover amorous fire,  
The more thy frozen Soul, with cross desire,  
Fronts those kind flames, whilst I the while in vain  
Pursue blue shadows, and no substance gain.  
O dwells in thee such barbarous desires?  
And must I thus consume in tedious fires  
That noble blood, that in my heart resides,  
And but for thee yet in its veins abides?  
Advice thy actions; that's but kindness feigned,  
By importunity which is, or force obtained:  
For what by flattery with long pains is sought,  
Though priceless gained, yet is it dearly bought.  
Let him, who for his help would thanks receive,  
Th' afflicted's case without delay relieve:  
For him alone we count of courteous mind,  
Whose help we readily performed found.  
But thou'rt of Marble sure, that canst refrain  
Of thy bland youth to lose the sturdy reign,  
And view me thus overwhelmed with plenteous grief,  
(Nor cruel lesle) deny yet all relief.  
What may I think thou with thyself so days,  
So nights revolv'st! O most distasteful ways  
To me they are. But wherefore thus shouldst thou  
Thy young desires to sullen slavery bow?  
What can more aptly suit youths soft desires,  
Than with a Paramour to cool his fires?  
For Nature's instinct 'tis to all imbred,  
Delights to seek in Love's triumphant bed.  
So lumpish soul'd, so phlegmatic no●e are,  
Who with their kind seek not their kind to pair.  
Behold, diffused it is in ev●ry thing,  
Youths reeming pleasures forth by force to bring.  
Nor doth in barren lands so dearth abound,  
Wherein no memory of Love is found.  
As in all-pleasing Ver to bring things forth,  
Soft procreation to our widowed earth  
Gently descends, which than the leaf doth shoot,  
And fragrant flowers, and sweet delicious fruit.  
This teeming time when come, there where it sets,  
That Land's straight chequered with soft Violets,  
Guilt-bowly-Daffadils; each thing anew  
Gets life, on which it breathes its fruitful dew.  
Lo, whilst it thus gins to fan its charms,  
The lofty Cedars wide outstretching arms,  
Yet bald with Winter-blast, and Rhyme yet grey,  
Now put on green against a Summer's day.  
Goes it through smiling fields, or ambient airs,  
Beasts joy in frisks, of birds in Notes appears.  
If on the strand, the fish, that scaled be,  
Bubble in streams, and dance upon the Sea.  
Salute's it man, what wonders works it than!  
If pensive he, it comforts him again,  
Refines his mind, if he is swain-like soul'd;  
Makes him, if dull, his sluggish arms unfold:  
If bred a Clown, in Courtship smooth him skills,  
Or else, if mute, in him swift speech distils.  
There needs no more. Thus, when possessed with Love,  
Our time we spend, our joys thus foar above  
Their usual strain; and than each youthful Male,  
All means assays, how he may often prevail,  
To gratify his flames; how here and there,  
He in his toils a beauty may ensnare.  
Auspicious youth, how singular's thy hap,  
Whom Love with liberal hands flings in thy lap  
Her balmy pleasures; thou who ne'er haste been  
Afflicted for her, or yet sighing seen?  
When Midianites thee of thy Brethrens bought,  
And in our Meniphian Egypt thou wast brought,  
From that time I was made thy Regent Dame,  
And mighty Po●iphar thy Lord became;  
A man enslaved to splendid Court-affairs,  
And wholly bend to mount on Honour's stairs;  
A head for great attempts, of restless kind,  
Who for the world, nor body spares, nor mind.  
Before the morning-blush can night entrance,  
And with unmuffling light in day advance,  
Before the gray-browed dawn can early day  
Fore-run, I grope, but Potiphar's away:  
Already clad, he strikes him on a light,  
In jucubrations spends that part of night,  
And therein drowned, reads, meditates, and writes,  
Till him to other things high day invites:  
Than hastes to Court, within those busy Halls  
Than walks, where care to thoughts uncessant calls:  
In Consults dwells, until his restless brain  
Fumes Oven-like, that can't its heat contain:  
Thence hies to th' Prince, where yet again his mind  
Must move with humours of uncertain kind;  
Nor lesle his Wits must work, since none is more  
Esteemed than flatterers that Crowns adore.  
Nor yet is this enough, lo, homebred sorrow  
Genders new care for this day and to morrow;  
That so, no hour there is throughout the day,  
Wherein his Soul might rest, he once can say.  
Unhappy Lord, enslaved by too vast things;  
Thy purchased greatness thee but sorrow brings!  
Forsake the Court's too cumbrous cares, and come,  
Join with thy Wife to manage things at home.  
But whilst my Lord him in these cares employs,  
Therewith his buzzing head and Soul annoys,  
I his forsaken, his forgotten Wife,  
Wish for this cause a more delightful life:  
And am resolved (nor deem it voided of reason)  
Not so to lavish this my youthful season:  
Let him, since he will always be at Court,  
Frequent strange beds, one shall to mine resort;  
And thou art he selected hereunto,  
Sweet Joseph, who of this long since didst know.  
Mine eye my heart bewrayed, that did descry,  
What kind of passions in my breast did fry.  
When once the heart feels Love hath made a wound,  
The Senses dislocate, the Tongue is bound,  
The Mind, with grief possessed, is filled with dread,  
And than the eye the tongues defect must pled.  
I know thou hast observed my strong desires;  
From my sad eyes dart symptoms of my fires;  
Nor lesle didst thou perceive those flames in me,  
When near my bed I sent so often for thee:  
O long ere them (I know) this tongue expressed,  
Thou feltst these dire commotions in my breast;  
And yet thou glori'dst ever to appear  
As if thou nothing waste of this ware.  
If thee alone I found, where none could see,  
Or overlook what passed 'twixt thee and me,  
Away thou fledst, when thou but thought'st 'twas I,  
As though some Ghost thee thence compelled to fly.  
These were the pressures which so moved my mind,  
That shame not longer could my passions bind;  
Which forced, broke forth, constraining me to bow  
My neck to thee, and court my servant now.  
Yet woe is me, though I disclose my fires,  
All I can say, can't thaw thy i'll desires;  
'Tis neither Rhetoric, nor deep-fetched groans  
Can move thy spirit to regard my moans.  
O can not languid sighs, no Eloquence  
Thy marble-breast to tenderness dispense?  
Nor can yet goodness once prevail with thee?  
Than rigour shall, which thou shalt quickly see:  
Though I am more assured, persuasions rather  
Will melt thy Soul, and we shall yet together  
Join flames to flames●: come than, why should such fallen  
And rough desires in such sweet favour devil?   
JOSEPH. 
ME, what prodigious things do I now hear!  
Are these your words, and, Madam, I so near?  
Surely you mean them not: Ah me, but why  
Seek you than once again my Soul to try?  
It is confessed that I am yours, and his  
Who is your Husband; but to none of this  
Sure was I sold: we are not sold to sin,  
Till of ourselves we do that Sale begin.  
Has providence lent you such gifts in vain,  
To which so many wish they might attain?  
So fair a flower has God created you,  
That to your Lord you should be found untrue?  
Though portly body, amiable face,  
Though wise discourse your Sex so much doth grace,  
These yet, if modesty you set to sale,  
Will not that loss of Virtue countervail.  
You're of Illustrious Race, of Royal kind,  
With beauty gifted, and transcendent mind;  
Remember this, and let your Soul disdain  
Your honour so with Stallion-lust to slain,  
Much more to love your slave. Ah me, what is't  
Has poisoned you such matters to insist?  
Why should thus Reasons beauty be defaced?  
Why should your glory thus become disgraced?  
Why should lust reign, and why that spirit Divine,  
That doth the Soul to virtuous ways incline,  
And therein guide, be quenched, and force allayed,  
Through base-born lust, and that the Soul invade?  
For shame, adjourn these Soul-deluding dreams,  
Youths base product, which you so ill beseems,  
Which death portend: let them be strait denied:  
Fire's quickly mastered, when help's soon applied.  
He who from lusts vile bondage would be freed,  
It's premier flames to suffocate must heed.  
Sin is a plant, which if not from the root  
Soon plucked, will soon to spreading mischief shoot:  
Which if it does, its venom soon we found  
Infecting all our blood, and all our mind;  
And that's a Fort with ever-watchful eyes  
Which should be guarded from sins swift surprise.  
But if we thus destroy it, than with ease  
Our hearts may be secured from this disease,  
And that calm-virgin peace as erst regain,  
The greatest bliss that Souls can here obtain.  
Well, though it be, (which let me not believe)  
That you're inclined brief pleasure should beleave  
You of your same, your eyes in vain on me  
Yet look, in whom those joys abhorred be.  
Ah, how may I my precious Soul resign  
To such salacious lust? how thus incline  
To wound my Conscience, and supremely prise  
Those flames; and therein myself exercise?  
Am I not of that house, which from the rest  
Of all the world God for his people blest?  
Choosing them such, or ever form he laid  
Of this huge Globe, and of his promise made  
Peculiar Heirs? Am I not Abrams feed,  
The faithful's Father, by Gods call decreed,  
And Prince of Race Divine? and should I prise  
Foul lust, and these advantages despise?  
These members so abuse, that God upbraid,  
Who his love's covenant thereon hath made;  
And thus Soul-shipwrack in one instant make?  
Help, Lord, nor me do ever thus forsake.  
But how you err! although God did created  
In all he made, a power to propagate  
As was its kind; yet what, alas, makes this  
For you? as blind, so you the mark do miss.  
But 'tis perceived, what by your error's meant:  
You brass to me for solid Gold present,  
Which I should so, say you, with you believe,  
That lust as love acceptance might receive.  
Who sees not this? but better things we know;  
From our great God to man no lust did flow:  
He at the first did than in him inspire,  
In beasts, in fowl, and fish, an upright fire;  
Blessing them generally, with words of these:  
Be greatly fruitful, and the earth increase.  
Of these, yet Man, when he began to live,  
One meet help only did from God receive,  
(Flesh of his flesh, bone form of his bone)  
And this command, You two shall be but one.  
Thus that delight is but 'twixt two confined,  
Where one Male-female are together joined;  
A third destroys the pleasure, sours the sweet,  
For love is only 'twixt two souls complete.  
And this thus God enjoins. As with his hands  
He Man and Wife unites in wedlock-bands,  
Which none may part. To th'Bridal sheets this Seal,  
By him affixed, their purity reveal.  
How should it than seem strange, if he consume  
Such who his work to sully dare presume?  
If with fierce plagues, hurled from his kindled Ire,  
He satisfaction should from them require?  
Who in God's house lewd shame commits, him he  
To shame will bring, from whence he shall not flee;  
And Curses on his body he shall found  
Thenceforth, and plagues possessing all his mind.  
For God is holy; his bright eyes are pure,  
Which will by no means lustful flames endure.  
The airy Soul doth in the blood reside,  
The Soul's God's Temple, where naught foul may 'bide:  
Within his presence-chamber none may dare  
His hests pollute, that undefiled are.  
My Lord hath days and nights, you argue next,  
Incessant cares, wherewith his thoughts perplexed  
And captivated are, and therefore he  
Needs by his Consort must abused be.  
O foul conclusion! which now makes me hate  
Your lusts address the more: for sure my fate  
Must be much worse than his, if I believe  
That woman's words that doth her Lord deceive.  
Ah, should the painful Husband grinned and toil  
His Household to maintain, and should the while  
His wife prove false! he spend his strength for gains  
And she devour by whoredom all his pains?  
So at such cost shall fame superb be sought  
By Potiphar, and you for worse than naught  
Yours forfeit to your slave? O misery,  
The certain issue of these deeds! who thee  
May duly here describe? unhappy they  
Who by such things for thy approach give way!  
In vain the Husband doth employ his pains,  
To grow in richeses, and increase in gains;  
In vain he seeks to keep an earthly Treasure,  
If the wife prostitutes to stranger's pleasure.  
For where the Nuptial sheets defiled be,  
All good departs that House, all blessings flee;  
And fearful ruin with a curse fucceeds,  
Taking due vengeance for such dismal deeds.  
I gave you no advantage to express  
With words your mind, say you, and therefore lesle  
Your Lust would not permit, than by your Eyes  
To show the Symptoms of your Maladies.  
What shall I say? Had you been ever dumb,  
This language to my ears had never come:  
Nor blind if you, had you for ever known  
These obscene flames, now so puissant grown.  
And would you had been so, this for your sake  
I wish, so sure a death do you partake  
In your own wishes. O! express not more  
With Tongue or Eyes such matters, I implore.  
Was it for me to fix a busy eye  
Upon your looks, your pleasure to descry?  
(For this neglect you tender my disdain,  
And stately pride, as glorying in your pain.)  
Not, this your Maidens should observe, not I;  
They on your looks may fix a curious eye,  
And sudden motions may regard with awe:  
Your Will to them may be a binding Law.  
But as for me, my observations must  
About my Lord be placed; He may my just  
Regard alone demand, but never you:  
His eyes alone may teach me what to do.  
And this he will confess, so I have been  
Obedient, where my Duty should be seen.  
Do you conceive my Lord your ways should like,  
Or yield to my compliance? O! he'd strike  
On us much rather all that sense he bore  
Of horror to them; so that we not more  
Should need the pleasure, or his second rage  
Against our sin his vengeance to engage.  
What now avails it you to frk your mind  
On that where you may no enjoyment find?  
If your vile flesh so burns in lustful flame,  
Go there where you may cool it without blame.  
Why did you not at first suppress that five,  
Which towards me inflamed such foul desire?  
Why did you gratify your traitorous eyes,  
When you had warming Lust through them surprise  
Had made upon your Heart? Have you forgot,  
Or did you never hear, how Eve was brought  
To loss of Eden, by her busy eye  
On fruit forbidden, and posterity?  
This is the little limb which can alone  
The careless Soul of Happiness unthrone.  
Behold the safe, who this unguarded leave,  
A Thief obtain, ere they aught ill perceive.  
I did endeavour to avoid, 'tis true,  
Your presence, jest I might alone by you  
Be taken by surprise: Sin lies at catch  
For man in solitude, neglecting watch.  
Shame, you confess, your Lust did drive away;  
And I can tell you than, your best array  
Is gone, which was your Glory: Not the blaze  
Of all your Gems reverberating rays  
Can yield that lustre; but as Light that dwells  
With Day, compared with Night, so that excels.  
God did a shamefacedness in Womenkind  
Implant, to guard at all times their soft Mind;  
Which if they drive regardlessly from thence,  
Their Chastity rests voided of all defence.  
Not languid Eyes they be that can excuse,  
Nor winning Eloquence, which you abuse,  
That can maintain your ways; them therefore cease,  
While time may free you, and restore your peace.  
Nay, know, the more you therein yet shall press,  
So much your person will but please me lesle.  
Once more desist, I therefore yet implore,  
Let rampant Lust possess your mind not more:  
Which since it will conclude in endless pains,  
That fool is wise, who in't not long remains.   
SEPHYRA. 
Often though thou hast my suit with proud disdain  
Repulsed, my mind yet doth unmoved remain.  
I'm what I ever was. In Amours chase,  
'Tis perseverance gains the Victor's praise.  
So solid Iron wastes at length by rust,  
And Steel, yet harder, crumbles into dust.  
So sturdy Oakes yield to the frequent wound  
By Axes given, till they kiss the ground.  
Of you, as Dame, I have supreme Command,  
Which your condition suits not to withstand:  
My Money bought you, subject to my Will  
Therefore you are, and must my Law fulfil;  
Nor Mistresses can Servants that enjoin,  
Which their Obedience justly should decline.  
Well than, my Will fulfil, and wherefore not?  
Sure that's at our command which we have bought:  
All your whole Body's mine, that I may kill,  
Or save alive, or torture as I will;  
And if the whole is sold to my desire,  
Well may I than the fruit of part require.  
Nor to oppose me think that thou art free,  
Who to my humour must devoted be.  
All Nations yield to this, of old and yet,  
That with their Slaves each do as they think fit.  
And if long since Love had returned from you,  
IT had been but duty to your Mistress due;  
But that's now past, beware that thus not more  
Thou of such errors treasur'st greater store.  
Or didst thou doubt my love's reality,  
As if I feigned it but thy pulse to try?  
Never indeed did I possess that mind,  
To such injurious double thoughts inclined:  
Which if that only lets, O strait discharge  
Those thoughts, nor more let them such doubts enlarge.  
For lo, my wounded heart, all in a flame,  
Offering oblations to sweet Joseph's name.  
Press but this bosom, and there feel it lie,  
A panting victim to thy wounding eye.  
Behold my stretcht-out arms, my naked breast,  
Wooing thy kindness; what can be expressed  
Moore plain? alas, I have no other way:  
If yet thou doubtest, the rest thyself assay.  
This day our Aegypt's gaudy Gentry are  
At Memphis entertained, with Banquets, where  
Thy Lord is likewise with our chiefest Train;  
I only for thy sake at home remain;  
Which to procure, I sickness did pretend,  
That those few hours I might with Joseph spend.  
My Lord risen early up, my bed I kept,  
As sick at heart, though nothing lesle, than wept;  
He grieved, impressed a frozen kiss or two,  
Physic advised, than sighed, and bid adieu.  
And yet I'm sick, though well: strange, may I say,  
Are adverse things in us, where love bears sway,  
Whose mysteries more deep than most conceive,  
And various are, or yet than most believe.  
I yielded its depth, I am not skilled to spell,  
Yet that my cure's in thee, I know right well:  
For thence came my disease, land 'tis from thee  
I therefore must expect my remedy.  
Pain tortures not my body, but my mind;  
I'm sick or well, as thou art coy or kind.  
O than relent, and case my fierce disease;  
If thou deniest, I die by its increase:  
Nor let me more beseech thee thus in vain,  
Or reap the fruits of arrogant disdain.  
Discard that 〈◊〉; why should soft delight  
Be so opposed? why so should love affright  
Thy tender mind, which teeming youth requires?  
Why should dull ponderings drink up those desires?  
We deem it in our age no faulty crime,  
For youth now flourishing in manly prime,  
To pluck a 〈◊〉 Vine, and taste its grape,  
If he the ownere eye do but escape.  
But why thy Fathers in such glory dressed?  
Were things with them as is by thee expressed?  
've heard their fame, and know thy frail defence;  
Thy Hebron is not so far diffant hence.  
It seems that custom thou hast learned too;  
With other strangers mighty things to show  
Of thy grave Progeny, which put to test,  
Will be found nothing, or but frail at best.  
Did not that Prince, from whom thou drewest thy life,  
His seed elsewhere evade than with his Wife?  
Compressed he not his maid, though he had yet  
A spouse, and on her Ishmael beget?  
This was th' Egyption Hagar, who his mind  
So pleased, that he, now grey, afresh inclined  
Became to lustful dalliance; behold,  
Our Egypt yielding Females fair of old.  
Nor ever may'st thou with me hold the day,  
For Jacob too, with many women lay:  
Though Lea was his wife, he could not rest,  
Till he was likewise with fair Rachel blest.  
Nor was this all; behold, his Maids likewise  
He both deflowrs, where see how they device  
Ways soft to cool their lust; Zilpa this night,  
Than Bilha next prostrates to his delight.  
This might suffice, and yet where canst thou found  
A man contented with one woman kind?  
The Bridal-sheets, at first for two intended,  
Through change of times to many more's extended.  
That's now 〈◊〉 what God to Adam spoke;  
Did not blind Lamech two Wives to him take,  
While Adam yet survived, with whom his vein  
Of lust he cooled, and Adam's rib in twain  
So split? Each few or many wives, we see,  
Do take, as they can best maintained be.  
If this may not suffice, to Lot than turn,  
And see his mind in love incestuous bourn;  
Than show us who yet judgements underwent,  
That in these pleasures hours redundant spent.  
Not, not, thou never canst that season name,  
In which against this God did aught proclaim.  
Observe we but the face of modern times,  
Whoredoms abound, nor deemed are any crimes.  
And if at home this Kingdom we surveyed,  
Them we hear Am'rets termed, and youthful play.  
With gay solemnity and Tables swelled,  
Pharaoh his day of Coronation held,  
Some time agone. Our Nobles all were there  
Assistants, and partakers of the cheer;  
Thy Lord withal, who had the charge to see  
Each at the Table placed in their degree,  
And as their state required; and thou likewise,  
On whom I all day fixed my wand'ring eyes.  
My place was than where Princes chief were,  
From whom at first I wise discourse did hear  
Of this world's great affairs: the frolic glass  
With cheering liquor scarce three rounds did pass,  
When, lo, promiscuous sounds the groaning board  
Loud ill-consorting murmur did afford.  
Among them one risen up, whose hand a pause  
Of listening silence in each guest did cause;  
Whilst of Adultery he undertook  
Something to say, which with a wanton look  
He named kind Courtship, and derided those,  
Who a chaste conversation rather chose.  
Methoughts his words and eyes bewrayed a mind  
Inclinable to pleasures of each kind.  
Many conceits dropped from his lips, and some  
I yet remember, which I thence brought home.  
I know not why, said he, fewer Treasure  
We covet so, and in our own not pleasure  
Contentedly can take; why thus our mind  
Should be to strange, not homebred things inclined.  
And yet 'tis so; no men with pleasure go  
To drink of streams besides their gates that flow.  
Convenient diet therefore is despised,  
Because its plenty renders it low prized.  
Vermilion-Cherries men the more admire  
For growing high, for so they draw desire.  
We love no low-grown fruits, though ne'er so prime;  
'Tis those please best, for which we high must climb.  
So in the Roost filled grain-troughs set, and we  
From feathered Hens may this our nature see;  
Who from those trougns though they their fill may  
Yet wantonly for grains they dunghills rake.  
Sauces acerb and biting, relish food;  
Nor without Salt or Pepper are they good.  
Clogging Conserves please Palates Feminine;  
But that which bites, the nobler Masculine.  
From busy Cooks we love to steal a bit  
Behind their backs, and that in corners eat.  
Nor need we here the reason why entreat,  
All know the Proverb, Stolen Bread is sweet.  
In short, so well his mind with words he dressed,  
That than a wanton Dream my brains possessed  
All that sweet Night; whence I was first ware,  
Thence more t'have carried, than I'd eaten there:  
Sin I could lessen straight, nor wanton Love  
Did I with most than longer vile approve,  
Though in th'espoused. When good we deem of ill,  
So prove to us infallibly it william.   
JOSEPH. 
URge me not more; the Rock unmoved outbraves  
Tempestuous Seas reverberating Waves;  
Where after long dispute, held with despite,  
Froth is but all the issue of the fight.  
With mind resolved against sins deadly rage,  
'Tis best our hearts now early we engage:  
And with this bosome-guest a bargain strike,  
That to resist, and all its ways dislike.  
This I endeavour, and this now must do,  
By so opposing all that comes from you;  
Since all your aim, I now too well do know,  
Is at my Soul, to work its overthrow.  
But I am taught with flesh and blood to fight,  
That flesh and blood in which you so delight;  
And this Contest I must as long maintain,  
As Sin, or you, my Tempter shall remain.  
Where know, so God will pled my righteous Cause,  
Built on the bottom of his sacred Laws;  
That all shall yield to my prevailing arm,  
That hath a tendency my Soul to harm.  
You are indeed my Mistress, this I grant,  
Whilst you your Lord obey, nor ways do haunt,  
Or upon me impose, forbidden known;  
Therefore cease boasting, you are not your own.  
These things please not my Lords, although your mind;  
Though you're my Dame, your own you're not, you'll found.  
Your body's not more yours, (lost by one word)  
But now for ever Potiphar's, your Lord.  
And by old Proverbs since you can contend,  
Let me, I pray, one likewise recommend,  
Well known to you: Each Wife (by fixed lot)  
Is Mistress of her Lord, but body not.  
Must I your Law imposed on me fulfil?  
If just it be indeed, I must and will:  
But if this Law with Piety contends,  
It is not just, nor serve I wicked ends.  
None are by Vassalage so strictly bound,  
That they to sin should be obedient found;  
Nor if a Mistress doth things vile impose,  
Do Slaves rebel, that those commands oppose.  
O how you err, to think in means men great,  
May as they please employ their vast estate!  
What means the Law, (sure thus is its abuse,  
Where men their means to hurtful ends do use)  
But to enjoin their use to wholesome ends,  
On which so much the countries' good depends?  
And 'tis good Counsel, Madam, though from me,  
Let not your Slave by you employed be  
To things unjust: This Counsel where rejected,  
There with disdain 've seen commands neglected.  
If with your Honour you your Servant trust,  
And on his shoulders yokes impose unjust,  
With dear repentance you will quickly see,  
That trusted Honour vilifyed shall be.  
He through Fame's Trumpet shall your deeds proclaim,  
And than through Towns & Countries your dear Name  
Shall be worse rendered than from limit fled,  
Though his first Story much the truth outsaid.  
Where therefore faithful Service you would have,  
No Privy-Counsellor make of your Slave.  
Within my Breast no Lust I entertain,  
Yet, trust me, this not out of proud disdain:  
In me no scornful Spirit I do find,  
Fear to my God is that which awes my Mind.  
But now your Loves esteem you would advance,  
And conquer me to that vile dalliance,  
By showing how your glozing tongue obtained  
This stay at home, and for me sickness feigned.  
Alas! are these the Symptoms of a mind  
To simple Truth and Faithfulness inclined;  
Or not much rather to injurious deeds,  
Of Perjury that from false hearts proceeds?  
And yet how desperate too, to hung a cloak  
Of Sickness over all, and so provoke  
The Mighty God; as if he were not worth  
His Creatures fear that crawls upon the earth.  
But we may Precedents to witness call,  
How often such minds in his just hands do fall.  
And now shall stretcht-out Arms, or naked Breast,  
Or Prayers devout unto my name addressed,  
Persuade my mind, think you, belief to pay  
To such pretences, and their Mood obey?  
Forbidden Lust it is that is your aim,  
And thence yet never upright dealing came.  
False to your Lord, to me you can't be true;  
For dalliance over, than all Faith adieu.  
Truth never flows from Lies, these can't agreed  
Friendly Indwellers in one breast to be.  
And with what Art do you Adultery seek  
To qualify of guilt? a youthful trick  
It only name, in fashion now adays;  
Not Criminal, because now common ways.  
But is not Theft a Crime? And pray what Theft  
Is now allowed? Or where's a man bereft  
Of greater good, than of his Second-self?  
To whom all goods besides are but as pelf.  
Thiefs that rob here, steal more from honest men,  
Than what they ever can restore again.  
O, of its vileness when I do reflect,  
What horror doth it not in me inject!  
Of sins with which so human hearts abound,  
Sure than this Lust no viler there is found:  
Which at its height becomes in this most vile,  
Where Wedlock's sacred sheets it doth defile.  
For other sins that universal charm  
Have not, nor do they work in men that harm;  
They being rather of external kind,  
As to the Body; this enslaves the mind  
Not only, but each limb, and pierceth through  
Marrow and bone (where Virtue bids adieu,)  
So holding on, till Strength be gone and Grace.  
And deep Remorse and Plagues supply their place.  
O! How may I Adulterous Limbs embrace!  
How thus God's Image in my Soul deface!  
Aye me! and how the sweets of Lust enjoy,  
And all my present peace of Soul destroy!  
Shall Joseph be in ways adulterous found?  
Sins vilest Lust, and where all Sins abound?  
As in uncleansed sinks of venomous kind,  
All sorts of Vermin we behold conjoined:  
Ah! Lord assist, let this not seize on me;  
By thy soft Grace let me restrained be:  
And in sure bonds hold thou my thoughts impure,  
That my dear Soul may be from Lust secure.  
Particular acts of men will not suffice  
Infallibly to teach us what to prise,  
And what things not; what kind of ways to choose,  
Or on the other hand what to refuse.  
Our building's on God's Precepts, that's the ground  
Where true direction for our walk is found:  
And so as we to these our steps direct,  
So far we Lust discover and reject.  
Your Cause is not for Abrams fact allowed;  
Should we our Crimes with others failings shrowded?  
And yet no others Wife did he defile,  
Or Heritage with a false Heir beguile.  
Nor sought he Sarah to deceive hereby,  
'Twas her first Will made him here to comply.  
Nor Lust to cool by this, was his intent;  
But of his house th'enlargement only meant.  
Produce you Jacob too? Nor will you find  
There aught that warrants this to Womankind.  
Yields God to Man this right? Who doth not see  
That Women here no ways concerned be?  
For once let Wives with many Men unite,  
What Generations shall be kept upright?  
Or how the Issue understand at all,  
Who its own Father it may truly call?  
I know you can no instance once produce,  
Where Hebrew-wives, provoked by Lust, did use  
Th'espoused Womb, or pre-engaged heart,  
Than to their Husbands otherwise impart.  
Did Sarah ever to her Lord thus say,  
By you I cannot bear; another way  
I'll therefore choose? O not, her lips ne'er spoke  
Such impious words, much lesle did undertake  
The far more impious deed. With restless mind  
Though Rachel longs for Issue, yet this kind  
Of way abhorred to take; nor ever known  
Were women with us so lascivious grown.  
But now how confidently next of Lot  
You vent your thoughts? though who is free of spot?  
And leprous sin, where it once leave obtains,  
Forward and forward towards act it gains.  
But did Lust reign in him? Dare you aver,  
That this above all good he did prefer?  
O not; lo, God for his just Soul takes care,  
And this sole man in all he had doth spare.  
So witnessing that he was only found  
Guiltless of Lust, for which God cursed the ground.  
And if we on his fault, you hint, reflect;  
'Twill but your frail defence the more detect.  
Before him, of a fire that raged behind  
Fly ill-aboding sparks, where all Mankind  
That there drew breath, and Flocks, and stately Towers  
Are fuel to those strange prodigious showers.  
Till afterwards he sees no more his Mate,  
Or hears her footsteps he but heard of late.  
For which huge griefs upon his spirits seize,  
Moore strong than can by tears find restful ease:  
Whose force the better therefore to escape,  
He for a Cordial dreins the bleeding Grape;  
Where overfree with this uxorious fruit,  
He, drunken, yields to its too strong dispute.  
In this Lot failed, for which God on him sent  
Judicial Judgements of a large extent:  
So that enthralled therewith, he than knew not  
Wherein so greatly he himself forgot.  
Thus when Temptations do our Souls surprise  
With false delight, and season the disguise  
Unto our time of grief, scarce the sincere  
Can than consider what they see or hear  
Beyond their griefs desire; and than the heart  
Who knows, forgives and heals the tempted part:  
For he the Will considers if upright,  
Or Mind that errs, if but by oversight;  
And cancels those transgressions, as not done  
By him that did them through surprise led on;  
Though for example, and for his behoof,  
If loved by him, he frees not from reproof.  
But with premeditated lust to rage,  
The flesh by provocation to engage  
In those unruly obscene flames, ah me  
How should this justified in this case be?  
You unsurprized have time to weigh your case,  
Yet obstinate, no Counsel will embrace.  
Lot knew not what he did by's Cups abused;  
Your guilt, you see, is therefore unexcused.  
O how your mind is bound in Chains of error,  
To think no time the great Jehovah's terror  
Against lust's fire in judgements did make known,  
Although, as yours, so formidable grown.  
Lo, Wedlock's Ordinance as soon was laid,  
As the fair Female for the Man was made,  
Who, though but one, yet so sufficient known,  
For help to him, with her becoming one.  
God's Spirit by each Vice to hate's alarmed;  
But chief he his wrath with fury armed  
Brings on hot lust, and that doth swiftly turn  
In showers on those who in such flames do burn.  
This caused of old those floods o'er Hills to flow,  
Where flocks once grazed, where feet of men did go.  
The skies themselves were threatened: what before  
Was Land, for this lo, Sea without all Shoar;  
Nor any thing that breathed would God than spare;  
But only of each kind one single pair  
Of Male and Female; other unpaired heaps  
Th' floods Prisoners were, and perished in those deeps.  
If this suffice not, than I more can show:  
Once Abram came with Sarah here, who grew  
Soon famous at this Court, which entertained  
Him better for her sake; there both remained  
As of one womb, (she being sister called  
By him) until her beauty high extolled  
Saluted Pharaohs ears, whose heart in flame  
Of growing lust by that report became.  
Yet when with her this lust he did intent  
To cool, see how God on his house did sand  
Unusual judgements, punishments unknown,  
Till he restored to Abraham his own.  
And thus if God a fault of ignorance  
In Prince's plagues for lust, he'll sure advance  
Worse on that slave, that boldly dare defile  
His Master's bed, and know his guilt the while.  
When Abram afterwards did steer about  
His course to Gerar, (though it fell not out)  
Yet did not God that Prince to death assign,  
Told in a Dream, because he did incline  
In lust to wife? Mark but what words severe;  
Abimilech, thou'rt dead, except my fear  
Constrain thee strait the Married to restore  
Untouched unduly, as she was before.  
Thus lust by God abhorred, we by this time  
May learn, and held by men a heinous crime:  
For hereupon, Abimelech, we see,  
Declaring this alike most vile to be.  
And if you look where our large flocks do feed,  
And where our Herdsmen them to Pasture lead,  
You shall not show that yet at any time  
Our Hebron left unpunished such a crime.  
How very nigh had Thamar been exposed  
To cruel flames, if she had not disclosed  
Than Judah's pledge, by whom with child she went,  
And doomed for that to this fierce punishment?  
Nor think that Judah first that Law did make,  
As if designed alone for Thamar's sake;  
He was nor Head nor Judge within that Land,  
Nor doom could give but as those Laws did stand.  
But why our Maid's behaviour bring you here,  
Since nothing there can for your Cause appear?  
What Sarah erst and Rachel since did do,  
Were different ways from these now chose by you.  
Withal, your Husband if not once content,  
Sure hereunto you never will consent  
To lend him to another's bed, you who  
To two at once with heated lust now glow;  
And yet withal how vainly you uphold  
This evil Cause from Tales by Courtiers told,  
As if the wanton Court should Precepts give  
To honest minds for Guidance how to live?  
But that man in best things who would excel,  
Must eat the Court, there doth no Virtue devil;  
And they who listen to unchaste discourse,  
Though well inclined, are made thereby the worse.  
So it provokes lewd thoughts, and to impure  
Desires unwary minds it doth allure.  
But what comes here? should Rest in Pain be placed?  
Or things sweet held, for being sour of taste?  
With labour hazardous what will be gained,  
Shall that the more with love be entertained?  
Because forbidden on pain of death, shall we  
Love what's forbidden, and Rebels choose to be?  
Sure that man's mad whose principle's so vain,  
To place his Ease in Danger, Rest in Pain.  
So Flies corruption love, there build their Cell;  
Nor can those humming Infects elsewhere devil:  
So Fenny Leeks refection found in blood,  
And brutish Ass' thistles make their food.  
O praise no things as sweet, that are thus sour;  
We love no summer's frost, nor winter's flower.  
Who with allowed food can't nature still,  
Hath an unnatural appetite to ill:  
Who hath so gormandizers greedy seen,  
That Meats by others which bespewed have been  
Yet have devoured? Not any sure's so wild  
To creep in beds whose sheets he knows defiled.  
The flower when drained of its Virgin smells,  
And grape of liquor which dull grief repels,  
Nothing is left but that which none will use:  
Sapless unsavoury relics all refuse.  
The sick of youth, who hates a single life,  
A Maid befits, not any husband's wife:  
For him a Nosegay's good, fresh plucked, not one  
In other's hands, whence all the strength is gone.  
Methinks in spotless love, where of one mind,  
In Hymen's band, two are for ever joined,  
Whom, except death, no evil can divide,  
There sure serenest comfort must reside.  
O in our premier years what sweet is there,  
Where such agreeing minds together pair!  
Who in their chaste delight withal obtain  
This added peace, that this God did ordain.  
But where lewd wives, inclined to naught but ill,  
Their bodies prostitute to strangers will,  
There is no true delight; for joy can't be  
Whence chastity disgraced is made to flee.   
SEPHYRA. 
THou hast a fluent tongue for Virtue's's praise,  
And still injoyn'st unimitable ways:  
But of those many things thou dost rehearse,  
Unjustest Doctrine dost with all disperses.  
What, shall men only their refection have  
Of dalliance, and shall the Wife be slave?  
Since, as thou sayest, she's made for his delight,  
Who yields her due when powerless to deny't.  
It will not hold, when Souls of men we see  
Incline to lust, that women yet should be  
From those sweet joys debarred: why should not pleasure  
As well as grief to both be shared like measure?  
Lo, when a Father from a single state  
His Daughter to a Married will translate,  
Is't not his care that she, his fond delight,  
May wedded be to one propitious wight,  
Who can in amour sweetly with her spend,  
And to her passions equal flames extend?  
For this I judge first Wedlock was ordained,  
That married pairs in that strict union chained,  
As well to joy as grief alike should be  
Yoked, and for ever in those terms agreed.  
Who in this state than steps, he should incline  
Thenceforth to's wife, and all his youth resign  
To the full pleasures of her mind in chief:  
And this who doth not do, is sure a thief.  
Poor Soul, she only 'tis that pays the smart,  
If he elsewhere divides from her his heart;  
Or if abroad he breaks his head with cares,  
Thereby at home she's left to divers snares.  
This for a rule I state, nor without reason,  
That each kind Husband should at every season  
Be to his wife devoted with pure thought;  
Which who neglects, performs not what he aught.  
Where once the man his Covenant-bonds doth break,  
The wife there leave obtains hers of to shake:  
For why to him should she devoted be,  
If to his duty he will not agreed?  
Well, let my Lord frequent the Royal Throne,  
But shall than I, though Married, yet alone,  
In hateful singleness my youth thus spend?  
O not, this mind doth other things intent.  
As I more amorous am, more soft inclined,  
So to those passions I'll refreshment found  
From stranger's hands. When fire is in a Town,  
By foreign streams men bring its fury down.  
Methinks my Lord with cares enough was plied,  
When th'Court with daily meats he did provide,  
And when whatever th'Royal board depressed,  
By his direct command was only dressed:  
Yet could not this suffice; Ambition knows  
No bounds, but after greatness ever grows,  
Moore eager bent: the heart once gone astray  
From the mid-road, content thence hasts away.  
The late Lord Chamberlain few days since past,  
Through heartsick pain upon his bed was cast:  
A fit of Frenzy, with a lung-bred cold,  
Of death's approach, by his forerunners told;  
Each ready made, and from all corners drew  
The sick to visit, all with mournful show,  
But merriment of mind. One for the state,  
Another for the tempting gold laid wait.  
Your Lord, not flowest of these Mammon-friends,  
His Interest 'gainst these so well defends  
To his dear Prince, that he the place obtained,  
While yet the Patient here alive remained.  
And with this Charge now he is overcome,  
Nor can regard what things are done at home.  
The Royal Chamber doth his Soul possess;  
There's his converse, there rests his happiness.  
'Tis of huge consequence the Prince's mind  
Each morning to discover how inclined,  
And seek to gain it. Sleep than cares alloy,  
And that's the hour of all the following day:  
For from repose new raised, he's best of mind,  
And favours than from him more free we found,  
Than through the day may kindly be obtained.  
With him who breakfasts, him that day hath gained.  
This my Lord tells me; and before each day  
Can peep, hasts thither, where though I his stay  
Implore, he's deaf; and though in tears, yet so  
Forsakes me comfortless. But let him go:  
His own injustice turns his Right to me  
So forfeited by him eternally.  
For since his body he to me denies,  
My Marriage-promise I'll as much despise.  
Wherhfore, I pray, should I thus tedious nights  
Languish for want of conjugal delights;  
And scorched with excess of youthful fires,  
Perish without redress in those desires?  
He to his Prince conveys himself away,  
Him to salute before approaching day;  
Whilst I am left without the slender bliss  
Of Night's repast, or Morning's farewel-kiss.  
But what I thus have born shall now suffice:  
Ways for my own content I will device  
As well as he; nor aught shall me deter,  
Or move me this conclusion to defer.  
He who to stranger's beds so much is bend,  
Gives cause that others do his Wives frequent.   
JOSEPH. 
AH, think you thus with show of right to hid  
The grossest Crimes, whilst you all rights deride!  
Methinks it empty sounds, (like hollow walls)  
Which easily before right reason falls.  
Is't just a Wife to thoughts luxurious bent,  
To others should bold accusations vent,  
Because her husband's better tempered mind  
Not always is with hers to lust inclined?  
Should she how he (unto her slave) disclose  
In bed towards his wise doth him dispose?  
O no! the Bridal Curtains drawn must be,  
Where no officious eyes may pierce to see.  
Thirds there so bold may never be to pry,  
When Man and Wife in their Pavilion lie.  
A pregnant saying some time since I learned,  
Which very much the Nuptial sheets concerned:  
There, whether joy or misery accrue,  
Let it be wisely secret kept 'twixt two.  
As head, the Man's not bound the lustful will  
At all times of his Consort to fulfil.  
'Twixt them a difference we are taught to make,  
She being only form for his sake.  
If Similes might rectify your mind,  
A teaching one you in the Mill might found,  
Whose wings ne'er move in circulating course,  
But as they're whirled by winds of greater force:  
And this the Wife should to herself improve,  
Who from herself should neither stir nor move,  
But by her Lord; his temper well discern,  
And move as his desires I'll grow or burn.  
Is he now drowned in sorrows sable plight?  
'Tis than no time to covet lusts delight.  
She of his changes should be well ware:  
If blithe, rejoice with him; if sad, forbear.  
And though it possibly should so befall,  
That in Domestic things no care at all  
He would vouchsafe, yet should not married wife  
For that break Faith, and lead a Harlot's life.  
Alone it is through ways adulterous found,  
The Gordian knot of Wedlock is unbound:  
And though the Wife should blameless be, yet she  
Ought not a prostitute to others be,  
But first should be divorced from his side,  
And single so become, so years abide;  
Or what I value more, thenceforth abstain  
From love, and manless all her days remain.  
But you seek not for things that you betid  
To be divorced, but would 'twixt two divide  
Your bodies use, and veiled in wedlock's show,  
The easier seek to gain for one man two.  
This but too well is seen: for who will say  
But thus your flesh seeks out of bounds to stray,  
And craftily behind a mask doth aim  
To play the Harlot, and be freed from shame?  
Well than, the cheat is plain, and plain I'll be  
To tell you thereto I shall not agreed.  
I have a Lord above, though sure you are  
My Mistress, therefore such things shall forbear.   
SEPHYRA. 
BUt though unjust my Cause thou deemest to be,  
Yet let not now this rare Occasion flee  
Neglected; since access is by my Lord  
To thee vouchsafed, what his age can't afford  
To do with me. Himself hath brought us hither,  
That as by his own conduct we together  
In Loves might swim: O shame, if such a day  
Without fruition should than slip away!  
He on the Court and that ambitious state  
Has fixed his Heart, and all his future Fate  
There now and ever dwells. I all the day  
Am here alone; What than obstructs thy way?  
His time's employed to journey up and down,  
As Envoy unto Realms of great renown  
That influence this Court; So that we see  
None so beloved by his dear Prince as he.  
And 'tis the Prince's Minion which his heart  
Covets to be, that by the Vulgar part  
He might be worshipped, and Egypt's Land  
Observance yield unto his sole Command.  
O how he thirsts a thousand Knees to see  
For his good Favour suppliant to be!  
And as he ever dwells at Court, h●s mind  
Thence cannot come, to be at home inclined:  
Where if he be sometimes, what need we fear,  
Since his Mind's absent, whilst his Body's there?  
Thus who by Courtly Glory is deceived,  
All shows to him as real are believed:  
And he his home who makes not his delight,  
May easily be turned out from his Right.  
Who can so fair an hour for this design  
View free from dangers, and yet not incline  
To use the season? sure 'tis thy belief,  
That often an open door creates a thief;  
And yet here's more: amongst our Servingmen  
My Lord more fit none deems for Steward than  
Wise Joseph; none to him may Rival be:  
There's nothing pleaseth, but what comes from thee;  
On whom he dotes; nor can he entertain  
Hard thoughts of Joseph, or them long retain.  
If sporting with his Wife he saw thee lie,  
Yet to Civilities he'd all apply.  
See than how sweet a bit salutes thy lip  
Now to a taste; if yet thou lettest it slip,  
Thou meritest shame. He who what season gives  
Will not accept, in after-sorrow lives.   
JOSEPH. 
THough Time and Place at your design may smile,  
Yet no occasion serves men to be vile;  
Though opportunities to wish attend,  
Yet these no sinful practice may befriend.  
Consult your Case with cunning men, that know  
The influences of the Stars below;  
They never there, I'm sure, observed that day  
In which men might unlawful lust obey.  
O no! conveniency may never make  
Unjust things just, which you now undertake,  
'Tis true, occasion swiftly hence doth bend,  
But this no foul Transgressions doth intent.  
Though my Lord's business him often calls from hence,  
This me to duty should the more incense.  
Moore faithfulness from servants hands, men say,  
Expected is when Masters are away.  
Let him be who he will, he who will ply  
His duty only in his Master's eye,  
I deem a Varlet; for who fears the Lord,  
Like pains unseen will as when seen afford.  
They who their servants value would descry,  
Must eye them when they think no viewer nigh.  
Hate, me from Hebron drove, whence by God's hand  
Men me a Slave brought into Egypt's Land;  
In which state God I know expects I show  
That faithfulness to whom 'tis now his due.  
Despised though first I was, void of respect,  
Me yet, so low, my God would not reject.  
This said I to myself, Behold thy call,  
Serve Potiphar; but serve thy God withal;  
Be sure thou never dost from him departed,  
He loves in every state the pure of heart:  
Which singleness, what ever from God's hand  
Betides thee, in thy breast engraved let stand.  
Though but humanity I would respect,  
And for a warrant my mean thoughts direct  
To Laws of men, here were enough for me  
The foul embracements of your flames to flee.  
My Master's house most largely God hath crowned  
As with rich showers, with blessings that abound,  
His numerous bleating flocks increased hath he,  
That graze on Hills, and Ships that coast the sea;  
His Household multiplies, his Land doth bring  
All store of fruits, his state grows with the King;  
He is at Court beloved by high and low,  
And so at home, where all things prosperous go;  
This likewise well he knows: in words composed  
Of plainest dress he frequently disclosed,  
That God for my sake him thus greatly blessed,  
Which too in grateful language he expressed.  
And now his private things attend my will,  
All's well I do, nor can I do what's ill.  
Such constant love to me I found he bears,  
As men would yield unto their only Heirs.  
Of all things ample power I did obtain,  
You only did excepted here remain.  
If therefore to the Laws I institute  
I make this house comply, this doth but suit  
With what's my charge; but none of these extend  
Unto your person; there arrived, they end.  
You an Enclosure hallowed are to none  
But him, and unto him must be alone.  
Nothing may be so hardy to frequent  
Your borders, and your honour circumvent:  
How could I than but prove abhorred, vile,  
If thus I should my Master's bed defile;  
Thus bring unto so base, so foul a fall  
His bosom's Treasure, love, and life, and all?  
Surely from Reason than I should decline,  
Or from what's human, common discipline;  
So bold if I should be both to despise  
My God and Master's favour, in that wise.  
Much better I not more drew breath to live,  
Than hate for kindness, bad for good to give.  
So double guile abhorred is by me,  
None (above all deep-trusted) false should be,  
What busy rumours should through Egypt ring,  
What scandal on our people should I bring,  
If in those ways which you have now begun  
With you I equally should choose to run!  
Is this the youth (would be the say) the seed  
Of Abram, this of them whom God decreed  
His people, this the Lad so highly praised,  
And beyond others to preferment raised?  
Hence thou and all thy kin; from whom it seems  
In vain 'twas not, part of your lustful limbs  
Were forced, as soon, almost, as men did found  
You breath; what pity aught was left behind?  
Well, 'tis my Charge of our Domestics, each  
To keep in bounds, subjection due, and teach  
By rods the Criminal; so here I stand  
Judge and Lawgiver by my Lords command.  
But shall I, their Supreme, a Judge severe,  
By heavy hands for each offence appear?  
Shall I on others Laws impose, and yet  
Myself the foulest practices commit?  
Or shall I when the lazy do neglect  
Their work, forthwith their negligence correct;  
Yet wholly destitute of shaine the while,  
As like a Goat, my Master's bed defile?  
The Chief when he in vicious courses lives,  
Moore than the sin is the offence he gives:  
For as to th'sin, that wounds alone his score;  
But the offence extends to many more.  
O therefore kill these thoughts, which so abuse  
Your noble mind such sordid things to choose.  
How should it ever be for Vassals meet,  
Their Lords dear Name to trample under feet;  
And on by lustful inclinations led,  
Uncover and pollute their Master's bed?   
SEPHYRA. 
IF Reason cannot move your marble-mind,  
Yet let that goodness which in me you found  
Towards you, to the like awaken you.  
Love may produce what Reason could not do.  
As Lime in lasting Pyramids, we found,  
Each little stone therein doth firmly bind:  
So Friendship is, in Love's uniting chains,  
Which hearts together joins, and joined maintains.  
Unworthy amongst Sons of men to live,  
Is he, for love who no return will give;  
And thus unworthy you'll yourself approve,  
If all my kindness you to none may move.  
Though here you came an ignominious slave,  
Yet as at home, all liberty you have,  
And by my means: from Potiphar you see  
Large signs of love, but larger far from me.  
On our best things to put you 'tis our strife;  
He works of honour gives, I of sweet life:  
So that no greater evil here you found,  
Except to you perchance we are too kind.  
He with affairs that takes away at night  
Your rest, employs you; I with soft delight.  
With ponderous things your care he loads, where I  
Bid you but fix on me a courteous eye.  
No day doth pass wherein I don't accost  
You in some place or other, where I'm lost  
In sighs unutterable, looking so  
As sad dejected lovers use to do.  
If than alone I found you, language sweet,  
Which but for Husbands, not for slaves is meet,  
I give. By your neglect if aught is missed,  
I calmly take it, nor on pay insist.  
Amongst our Nobles are you introduced;  
That my good will alone for you produced.  
When in Apparel any dress that's new  
Arises, that's procured forth with for you;  
Though seemingly to honour Potiphar,  
Because his Steward, and with him you are.  
But ah how far from that is the design  
To which my soul so strongly doth incline?  
How I revive, within this Court to view  
A youth of Body and of Limbs like you!  
As sprightly, lordly, and so courtly clad;  
The bore remembrance makes my fancy glad.  
Rich presents wheresoever they may be gained,  
I thenceforth plot how they may be obtained  
Best for you only, so that none may be  
Dividers with you, but the whole for thee.  
If tidings for my Lord for some to tell  
Falls out, and know I it may please him well;  
I charge you with it: mournful tidings are  
For common wretches, not for you to bear.  
Bestows my Lord upon our Family  
A new-years-gift, or what may th'like imply;  
You both at first with them alike do fare,  
And after get from me a nobler share.  
If of my Gentlewomen 'tis desired  
One may the errand bear, of you required  
'Tis first of all; for nothing's good esteemed,  
Not good or pertinent by Joseph deemed.  
But why thus heap I words? on every side  
Thus you through me surcharged with love abide:  
But where's my loan? how are you grateful seen?  
When one hand washes t'other, both's made clean.  
Can he with Reason, although scarce upright,  
Her for her love with sullen hate requited;  
Nay, and resist it too? has he the face  
To meet his Lady's suit will foul disgrace?  
Lo, Discipline, and common Brotherhood,  
Teacheth us love for love to tender, good  
For good: and should you not that love which I  
Have shown you, yield me back with usury?  
Ingrate! so be thou called, for favours sake  
So numerous which of me thou didst partake,  
Since all no one return again can move:  
How are those looks, though lovely, voided of love!  
My sweetest hopes to this disastrous day,  
As with swift winds, I see are snatched away.  
From thee nor languid sighs, lamenting moans  
Once notice move, nor yet my dying groans.  
To Court I sent thee, there some time to spend,  
By which I so thy breeding did intent:  
But that it seems with thee found favour small,  
For where it should be shown, there's none at all.  
But stay, forgetful I too far advance:  
I know this flows not from dull ignorance;  
The will's perverse. Can't Joseph if he would?  
O yes, but fancy doth his power withhold.   
JOSEPH to himself. 
A Harlot's favours, like gilt Pills appear,  
Which please the eye, but eat, the bowels tear;  
Disgust the palate, like to filthiest drink;  
Gripe the faint stomach, and departed with stink.  
This now I plainly see.  Seph. 
What's that you say?  
What is't you in those murmurs overly,  
I must not hear? How will you in a Cloud  
Abscond your reasons now? reply aloud.  
How with your mind did my last reason's speed?  
Prevailed they aught?  Jos. 
Not any thing indeed.  Seph. 
Can kindness gain from you than no return?  Jos. 
Yes, but in you, that grace I can't discern.  Seph. 
Is this my loan? than I my pains may blame.  Jos. 
Self-interest favours none will kindness name.  Seph. 
But what unkindness have I shown you? say.  Jos. 
What e'er you could to steal my heart away.  
Ah me! when men false baits to fishes hold,  
Freighted with sweetness, but which death enfold,  
Is this a kindness? flows this from good will?  
The very love pretended 'tis doth kill.  
And such your favours are, so they abuse  
The Soul with lies, and certain death produce.  
But I, of other favours too can sing,  
Than yours more real far, and great, which bring  
Upon their wings Salvation, and intent  
A love indelible, that hath no end.  
That God it is, in whom I boast this love,  
Who in these ways you run, forbids me move:  
Whose so great favours I should ill repay,  
(If that were all) if I should disobey.  
He from my Brothers Blood-thirsty-hands,  
From a deep Dungeon, fierce enslaving bands,  
Inevitable death prepared for me,  
Hath rescued, and from danger set me free.  
At length me in this happy state hath placed,  
And therein, with high honours greatly graced;  
Affording me conduct in that affair  
Committed to my charge, and to my care.  
Thus hath God done, and shall I him offend,  
And draw his wrath upon me without end?  
For such unstable flitting joys, shall I  
Choose lasting woe, and from my blessing fly?  
To Carnal loves shall I myself betake,  
And foolishly the love of God forsake?  
Than lead my future days in grief of heart,  
Where nothing earthly, comfort can impart.  
If kindnesses should hearts morosest tame,  
And to the Donor with kind love inflame;  
Sure than I aught to yield my God this mind,  
Who has to me, beyond you far, been kind.   
SEPHYRA. 
TUsh, what has God to do with me or you?  
Our good adds not to him, nor is it true  
That he fond man regards; for him be grieved,  
Whose trouble in his thoughts he ne'er received?  
'Tis madness: what of God's fierce plagues is said,  
Serves but to make the Vulgar sort afraid;  
And that th'unlearned rabble of a Land  
Might by such means be kept in straight command.  
In Heavenly Altitudes God dwells, to know  
For us too high; what should he do below  
Amongst such clods of earth, or mortals mind,  
Who in his Image his delight doth found?  
Should that great Prince, that's Father of the Light,  
That boundless power, judge man's vain works of night,  
Here on this dreary dale? should his great Soul  
Considersilly worms in dust that roll?  
He in high Paradise 'bove Angel's ken,  
Triumphant sits, and rules, whence ways of men  
He can't surveyed. As that abode is great,  
Even so contemptible's this lower state.  
My house is stored with most retired Alcoves,  
Fitted to entertain us in our loves.  
Profoundly hid, they cunningly lie closed,  
In ambages perplexing, where exposed  
No part is to the Sun: to this I ways  
Have all that hinders to remove. Delays  
Nor any may presume, but straight must go  
Than far enough. What is't love cannot do?  
Knots though most intricate we can exvolve,  
When taught by Love, and say dark resolve.  
In most ambiguous matters, ways found out  
The prize to gain, and bring our ends about.  
I, ever since Love set my mind on flame,  
Soon Mistress of these Mysteries became;  
Though chief fraud, I cozen whom I will  
My fervent passions to obey, fulfil.  
Nor without lies shall ever Lover be  
Possessor of's desired felicity.   
JOSEPH. 
THink you so closely than your Plots to hid,  
That by no piercing eye they should be spied?  
Shall none your works of darkness undisguise?  
O you're deceived, things shall go otherwise.  
He who the eye did make, should he not see,  
Who all these Being's fashioned that be?  
Should he not all things see, that made the sight,  
That framed the Sun, and first produced the Light?  
Obscure in gloom of night your filthy works,  
(And true it is, sin still in darkness lurks;)  
Within the most retired Alcoves prepare  
To take your pleasure and no eye think there:  
Yet know, that eye that slumbers not nor sleeps,  
Sees all, and of your ways strict reckoning keeps,  
Even to your inmost thoughts. No Cave can hid  
You, or your works from his bright eyes divide.  
Put on the clipping pinions of the day,  
And to Earth's bounds hast than, and wing away:  
Or where the Ocean ends, there you will found  
Him likewise present, fathoming your mind;  
Your mind, whose thoughts afar of he surveys,  
Before Conception has there hatched its ways:  
Your mind, which cannot think, or cannot do,  
Can he not know, and better know than you?  
It boots you not in lowest Vaults to lurk,  
Or by Night favoured, deeds of Night to work:  
For Night is Day to God, darkness as light,  
And all things naked to his piercing sight.  
Well, but it seems to God the heavens you'd give,  
So, as you pleased, you in the world might live.  
But me! how vain is this which you conceive!  
With God it is not as you would believe.  
O your Creator better learn to know,  
And more respect with due submission show,  
When of him you discourse. Not mortal he,  
Nor human is, as you would have him be.  
Heaven his ubiquity by sight doth know;  
And though not seen, yet is he here below;  
Both here, and every where; nor may you name  
That place where his dread Spirit never came.  
And at that instant I now know him here,  
I likewise know him present every where,  
Yet undivided, and essentially.  
Whilst we fly from him, unto him we fly.  
Had you the power by counterfeiting shows,  
The eyes of men and reason to abuse,  
'Twould not avail you; 'tis not here or there  
Will hid your deeds to God which naked are.  
As wicked boys who so their Plots contrive,  
That into them none of the youth can dive,  
What boots it yet, if he them understands,  
Who for their punishments the rod commands?  
But what speak we of Man, made of a clod  
Of despicable Earth! let's on his God  
That made him now reflect, whose powerful hand  
Nor Heaven, nor Earth, nor can the Seas withstand.  
Nay, Seas their rage forget, Winds calm remain,  
When he commands, and rocks do rend in twain.  
Heavens melt for fervent heat, oppressed with fears,  
Like man distressed, that sheds for anguish tears.  
Moves he his voice, and gives the sea its doom;  
Thus far, but farther not your Waves may come:  
The banks must check their fury, force detain,  
As fiery Steeds when kerbed by the rain.  
Forth from his mouth huge damps like night do go;  
Than following flames, which Nations overflow.  
To stone-heaps Towns he turns, and down doth fallen  
All things against his judgement that rebel.  
His Chariot-steeds are th' pinions of the wind;  
His way begirt with darkness, none may found.  
Swift flying Clouds that ' longest the Heaven glides,  
His nimble Chariot is, on which he rides.  
Th'Thunders his voice, if that breaks forth, than there  
Where Sylvanes Echo, Hinds do calve that bear,  
And cast their unripe fruit o'th' trembling way.  
Hills skip affrighted, Plains do run away;  
His Hosts are Thrones of mighty Cherubin,  
They hid his Char, attend as Guards on him.  
Of these Angelic Quarries numberless,  
That threat fierce din of War, doth he possess,  
Commixed with flames: a Night-resembling smoke  
Shoots from his nostrils when we him provoke,  
And clouds the Air, so that the whole Sylvane  
Withers its leaf, and faints for anxious pain.  
He in the Clouds his signs doth show, which threat  
Plague, Sword, or Famine, which here woes complete.  
The Suns and Moons vast Orbs his word obey:  
Commands he, they stand still, or run their way.  
From him the three-forked Lightning darts its flash;  
Which whether it doth on rocks or Turrets dash,  
Such ruinous way it makes, that th' earth her womb  
Ghastly extends, and offers man a Tomb.  
The arched Rainbow, with embroidered rays,  
Straight from the troubled skies its light displays,  
When he commands; where than it takes its place  
Right opposite where the Sun promotes his race.  
About the Sphere he thousand stars doth guide,  
Which never err, but ever surely glide:  
Their strength he knows, and numbers of them all,  
Each by his name distinctly the doth call.  
As with thick wool, with snow he doth enfold  
The naked fields. He sends his fearful cold  
That charmeth flowing streams; than a southwind,  
Which them from numbness doth again unbind.  
His dreadful Judgements over Realms he shakes;  
From calm repose the sleeping sea he wakes  
To horrible uproar, as with his hands  
Drives ships in unknown deeps, men on strange lands.  
Leviathan, the terror of the Main,  
With panic fear he troubles, till again  
He yields his borrowed Life, and until he  
Makes where he dies, an Island in the sea.  
So awful is this glorious Majesty,  
Who whilst we only name, our inwards be  
Arrested straight with dread; nor can we found  
Repose whilst this continues in our mind.  
Come, Madam, than, your young affections yield  
To Heavenly things; let them not more be filled  
With earthly trash, but thence withdraw your love,  
And henceforth fix it upon things above;  
Where no remorse for sin nor pain doth devil,  
But lasting joys, which these do far excel;  
And where these joys, in one immortal May,  
Inebriate and fill the Soul for ay.  
This blissful state let's labour than to gain;  
What though it cost us selfdenying pain?  
Since here we must the lust of flesh oppose,  
Or that felicity for ever lose;  
Let us that lust with angry zeal control,  
Unweariedly, which would deprive the Soul  
Thus of its rest. As wax before the fire,  
So spurious Lust would dye in our desire,  
If we would force our backward thoughts to be  
Conversing with these matters frequently.  
When in us things of God we overly,  
Our minds it strengthens, and drives sin away.   
SEPHYRA. 
BUt hold, fond Boy, God's judgements let them heed,  
Whose steps are drawing near the grave, who speed  
Now downhill to their end; let them reflect  
On such dull Phantasms, and these joys reject.  
But why should we, that have not reached our Noon,  
Think on the period of our days so soon;  
Disturb, by thoughts of other worlds, our rest  
And flee those joys of which we are possessed?  
Age blithe like Youth, like hoary age Youth grave!  
Things more discording not on earth we have.  
Dalliance becomes best Youth, as hand in hand  
With joy Youth couples, knits in amorous band.  
Both their designs is Mirth and soft delight,  
As doth their Names, their humour's so unite;  
And both one soul (so they agreed) possess;  
What the one covets, t'other craves no lesle.  
Hymen in stricter union never joined  
Two pleasant pairs of more agreeing mind.  
Youth in his bloom, and now when South inspires  
Life in the Spring, and gathers into quires  
The scattered Nightingales, and decks the Hills  
With cheerful green, and Banks of gliding Rills:  
When Gardens reassume their Summer's pride,  
Where Art and Nature both in triumph ride,  
Whose various Flowers deceive the rasher eye,  
In taking them for curious Tapestry:  
Than three chief pleasures he to him assumes,  
With which the hasty minutes he consumes.  
Jocundity the first, composed of air,  
That knows no sadness, nor doth laughter spare;  
Who not on Earth, but as on Air doth tread;  
Each step he makes with ever tossing head.  
Next, Play, whose fingers strike the warbling string,  
Which moves the Soul, and into tune doth bring;  
Whose music regulates dividing feet,  
That move in dance, and makes both fitly meet.  
And lastly, Chase, to fallow-Deer inclined,  
But which in Cities, not in Woods we found;  
Hotly pursuing, till within his toils  
He has obtained some of those beauteous spoils.  
Than sweet-liped Joy attractively arrayed,  
With soft Habiliments, whereon portrayed   depiction of people dancing 
Are Loves inventions, though her brighter air  
Plunge hearts far deeper into amorous care.  
The Onyx and the Jaspers various die,  
And Diamonds darken at her brighter eye:  
The Saphyr's blue, by her more azure veins,  
Seem to confess they serve but there for stains;  
And blushing Rubies seem to lose their die,  
When her more Ruby lips are moving by.  
The curious Apples of her swelling breasts,  
In which a Paradise of pleasure rests,  
Surpass the whitest Syndon which she wears,  
And gazing eyes to ravishment ensnares.  
Thus clad and qualified, likewise she  
For her diversion has made choice of three.  
Song first, with quavering throat, who in soft lays  
Of moving Verse Loves mysteries displays:  
Or of Salmacis streams a Song indites,  
Which turns her listeners to Hermaphrodites.  
Lose Riot next to revelling inclined,  
So to supply the concaves of her mind,  
Which must by merry Bouts a vent obtain  
Of that light Spirit, active in her brain.  
And lastly, Snap the belly-friend, whose taste  
In well-fed flesh than fruit finds more repast;  
Whose blood like Kids upon a motley plain,  
Doth skip and dance Levaltoes in each vein.  
Lo, what a jolly company is here!  
Methinks my youthful Soul with newborn cheer  
At their remembrance overspread I feel,  
Which in each faculty doth gently steal.  
We both yet young, now flourish in our prime:  
You twenty seven scarce reckon of your time,  
I not so much; if now it may not be  
A time to love, that time we ne'er shall see.  
Ah, why should youth his sweet desires control,  
And with too pensive thoughts torment his Soul,  
Just when the fragrant bloom of Youth would sprout?  
But 'tis in vain, for youthful lust will out;  
It will have all its due: let th'aged grief,  
Who now of love have took eternal leave;  
Let them with sighs converse, and groan to know  
High things, who with a third leg added go.  
As to like years, we to like mood incline;  
Of Sex both fit in acts of love to join.  
So kindly Nature hath our tempers wrought,  
That whilst we're too, we're made thus one in thought.  
Well than, cheer up, dull Soul, nor longer now  
To spend thy days in grief thyself allow:  
O do but see how all these joys do move,  
To serve thee in the practices of love!  
When aged furrows once thy face shall plough,  
Not more than these delights will Love allow:  
Of things uncomely, we the chiefest found,  
When age like youth to dalliance is inclined.  
Come than, to Nature, Mother of each thing,  
Let's for an Offering our youth's verdure bring:  
Her Priests we are, her Temple my rooms name;  
My bed her Altar, and her fire our flame.  
Our days worst part is, when declining age  
Suddenly takes us with a death's presage.  
Pluck therefore flowers, my youth,  spring be past;  
Let's love that most, which doth but shortly last.  
Dost thou yet muse? Or is it timorous fear  
Withholds thy hand? Behold, thy blooming year  
With speedy feet to falling Autumn hies;  
And he who gets this fall, not more doth rise.   
JOSEPH. 
NOr reason, nor Religion 'tis, that I  
Should waste my youth in carnal luxury.  
Too soon, you judge it, that with prudent care  
I for my hasting end should now prepare:  
But is there any one, or can you tell  
When death shall ring us our departing knell?  
None can the measure of his days divine,  
Or when his Sun shall in its grave decline.  
Even now we by that Pursuivant may be  
Hurried from hence to that Eternity,  
Where no repentance is allowed more  
To us, nor mercy which we scorned before.  
And yet you think the shortness of our days  
To so much more industry in the ways  
Of lust should us excite. O much beguiled!  
Nor unto poorest reason reconciled.  
Should he who shortly must accounted produce  
Of his led life, be therefore more profuse  
Of his most precious minutes, and excite  
His youthful vigour to obscene delight?  
'Tis as unreasonable, as 'tis sure,  
By many sins, we many plagues procure.  
O think how often we crimson cheeks do view  
Suddenly change into deaths bloodless hue!  
How often vermilion-lips have been surprised  
With hue more pale than box, and sacrificed  
By deaths inevitable stroke, to devil  
With Spirits just, or evermore in Hell!  
Nay, though as young as you, yet have we seen  
Brisk morning looks, at evening who have been  
Wrapped in a winding-sheet; and often at night,  
Eyes shut to sleep, that more ne'er viewed this light  
We daily see, (nor is it more a wonder)  
Man's Sun at noon declining, going under.  
And that which we on others acted see,  
Forewarns may hap either you or me.  
Gay youths as smoke, that quickly fades away;  
We as our last should therefore think each day,  
And strive, as that persuasion did require,  
By settling things before it should expire.  
To God the fattest of the fold we yield,  
And so the first-fruits of the tilled field;  
How should we dare than with our own refuse  
Of feeble age, his Majesty abuse?  
If to the flesh our youth we give, and bring  
To God a crazy stump for offering,  
Members  by age with pains and aches,  
Whose palsy joints for deaths approaches shakes;  
What will he say? or how can we conceive  
He our performances should than receive?  
Moore wisely therefore let's our time redeem,  
Whilst youth remains, which God doth most esteem:  
The young that seek him never fail to found,  
Nor he to give them graces in their mind:  
But he in time who this neglects, anon  
When he shall knock, shall found his season gone.   
SEPHYRA. 
THis yet agrees not with our years: men say,  
Deep thoughts on death make hairs untimely grey.  
Farewell good days to him who hereon pores;  
To these dull humours therefore shut thy doors.  
Sorrow comes soon enough; why with such kind  
Of pond'ring should we than afflict our mind?  
He who on evils will beforehand muse,  
When come, in him will but more grief infuse.  
Yet let them mope that please; how ill it suits  
With thee, fair boy, however! strong disputes  
'Twixt Chastity and such fair looks as thine  
Are never wanting, till that grace incline  
To yield to the allurements which are laid  
In ambush for her, whereby she's betrayed.  
Behold, from lips the Coral which transcend,  
Soft moving words do flow, that love intent,  
And sue for a compliance; nor can breasts  
Moore hard than Rocks deny their kind requests:  
And Pleasures thereto joined, on every side,  
Of every kind still Virtue doth bestride,  
And conquer: Although never so austere,  
Even Virtue must the Charms of Love revere.  
But woe is me, to whom do I address  
All this discourse? 'tis my unhappiness  
To spend my sighs unto a flint, a stone;  
Yet stones have tears to weep, but thou hast none.  
Though nature made thee thus surprising fair,  
(And sure where beauty is, Loves seat is there)  
Yet can my words, though from a troubled mind,  
In thee no pity, no compassion found.  
How can it be that in those looks should devil  
Such cruel nature? O that fierceness quell!  
Be not so bloody-minded; imitate  
Thy lovely air; be kindly passionate.  
Those slaves who in the fiercest battles bear  
The brunt, and in worst dangers must appear;  
Or those who are transfixed unto the Oar,  
Or who the plough do follow, can't be more.  
Them possibly it might become to be  
As rough as their rough skins, but never thee,  
Whose looks so sweet, so lovely do appear  
As if they said it, Gentleness is here.  
Thy education, and thy yet few days,  
Soft dalliance more becomes, and Bacchus' ways.  
Sweet Malmsey with a Song, and on the knee  
A sprightly Damsel, wondrously agreed  
And suit with thy smooth Chin; nor can thy age  
Itself from these soft pleasures disengage.  
Alas! to what, I pray, is beauty good?  
It bears no fruit, nor eat we it as food;  
Nor likewise was it for the plough designed,  
It must be therefore but a shade or wind.  
If greater good may not be drawn from thence,  
Which who doth not deduce, is voided of sense.  
It's fruit is purely joy, no good besides  
Within the borders of its view resides.  
The blushing Rose, though from the stalk ne'er wrested,  
Or in gay wreaths by Virgin-hands invested,  
Or by a Lover to his female friend  
Never bestowed, yet should its beauty end  
To soon, behold how that its thirsty leaves  
Extends for due each morning, and receives;  
Which when they once no more obtian, they fade,  
Nor leave o'th' stalk more than the withered blade.  
Why shouldst thou spare that youth which wastes away  
So of itself? time only a decay  
Works on it, and impairs its comely guise:  
This season therefore slip not, art thou wise.  
Do I love thee? I therewith thee accuse;  
Thy beauty 'tis that doth this love infuse:  
Whoever such surprising looks beheld,  
And was not more than to esteem compelled?  
None thirsty view the Font's aspiring source,  
Yet from a taste can their parched throats enforce;  
Nor any fanged with hunger, well-dressed meat  
Before them see, yet can refrain to eat.  
Wine filled in glasses of a Crystal white,  
Is drank with more refreshment and delight.  
Thou knowst though meats be ne'er so toothsome made,  
They're loathed, if not in cleanly dishes laid.  
'Tis strange, yet true; by silence beauty gains  
Rough hearts to yield, nor once by words complains  
Although with eyes, yet melteth frozen breasts,  
And the obdurate, by those dumb requests.  
Nothing that from the lips of beauty streams,  
But like a dew, of birth celestial seems,  
And overtakes with ravishment the heart,  
Whether in jest addressed, or earnest part.   
JOSEPH. 
HOw! shall than Beauty, human nature's praise,  
Be made a glass where lustful eyes may gaze?  
When comely objects are beheld, than must  
The flesh, think you, arise in flames of lust?  
Was this the end when Nature's hand did grace  
With those Divine perfections human race?  
O not, the gifts of our great God invite  
By no means man unto sin-born delight:  
Nor was this given itself by lust to please,  
But by chaste Wedlock mankind to increase;  
His Masculine perfections her delight,  
Her female graces him to love excite.  
He loving her alone, she him, there are  
No thirds that in their bliss can claim a share.  
He gives, she draws his gifts by her fair eye;  
Nor can she crave the thing he can deny.  
And her desires agreeing so with his,  
They both contribute to complete their bliss.  
This is the end of beauty, to allure  
Thus chaste affections that may long endure:  
And they, if chaste indeed, when beauty's gone,  
That beauty will outlive, that led them on.  
The words of beauty, you allege, prevail,  
Even though they should hearts made of rocks assail:  
And I am fair, say you, O but admit  
I might now say what mostly might befit  
Your so obdurate heart, and that might be  
Dissolved by the words that flow from me.  
Yet there is more, I for your Interest  
Humbly advice and press you; my request  
Seeks but your safety, whereas yours to me  
Moves towards that which will my ruin be.  
Be than advised (and sure 'tis highly best)  
Let not henceforth your eyes upon me rest  
Lust to excite, but when you Joseph view,  
Think than a servant he's no more to you.  
'Tis not enough if we refrain the deed;  
Lusts in the thoughts from guilty breasts proceed.  
And they who are inflamed in that kind,  
Bear before God a sin-polluted mind.  
Yet if the while my object in your breast  
Your lust should heighten, and destroy your rest,  
Great would my sorrow be: Nay, I before  
This should succeed, my face in purple gore  
Would certainly convert; my kill eyes  
I would reward with equal cruelties:  
Within these cheeks my nails I would indent,  
And in that manner them so often torment,  
Until no marks of beauty there should be  
Moore left, but horror, whence all eyes should flee.  
But you that beauty seek, convert your eyes  
Unto that glorious Helion; a surprise  
Will seize your soul, from the first sight you gain,  
Which fixed there, in wonder will detain,  
And ardent love, and that will quite extrude,  
Which in your breast you now so close include.  
How vain, alas, is that we beauty call,  
In looks deciphered which we so extol!  
Take thence the veil, and that which meets our sight  
Is sores which very nature doth affright.  
Not sooner from our body is expressed  
That suspiration wherein life doth rest;  
Not sooner are our nostrils stopped, but straight  
Our beauty's gone, our glory finds a date.  
The Corpse than so forsook, extended are,  
Which with sad obsequies men mourning bear  
Unto their sable graves, where than they must  
Measure their cold proportions in the dust.  
There now behold your lovely beauty lie,  
Nor long expect, and you may feeding spy  
Self-quickning worms upon that flesh, whose sight  
Can once your Souls entirest thoughts delight.  
Well, therefore pray from thence revert your eyes;  
Nor longer with the world such beauty prize,  
But raise them up unto those things above,  
Which will both kindle and protect your love:  
For there is nothing in this lower sphere  
Which shall not into nothing disappear.  
But now, alas, your words too plainly show,  
Not beauty 'tis, but horror you pursue.  
The ugliness of sin who can express?  
And yet 'tis this at which your Soul doth press.  
If pencils could by deep and heighting art  
This Monster unto human eyes impart,  
And half its ugliness delineate, we  
As from infernal plagues thence struck should flee.  
Produce us what you can that genders fright,  
Or huge amazement, or afflicts the sight;  
All the deformities which you can show,  
Though ne'er so dismal, yet so black a view  
Have not as this you seek. But here I stay  
Too long; I to my charge must haste away:  
With leave I therefore go: it is not fit  
Dames with men-slaves long privacies admit.   
SEPHYRA. 
NOT, thou shalt stay: nor think to shrink so hence;  
Thy oppositions but the more incense  
My raging flames: a suffocated fire,  
When once broke forth, flames with the greater ire.  
But let me know, I earnestly request,  
Whence is it thus thy Soul is prepossessed  
With these so ponderous things? where was't thou brought  
Or trained up? none here have so been taught.  
Our Men, thou see'st, are waggishly inclined,  
Nor wanton lesle do I our women found:  
Who knows how things would go, if their desire  
Had all the liberty it would require?  
Thou only art exempted; thou alone  
Art more relentless than obedurate stone.  
In these affairs than thee none so unmoved,  
Who love deniest, though much thou art beloved.  
Bless me! what is it thus withholds thy mind,  
And breeds distaste in thee to womenkind,  
Nay to all joy? what want sustainest thou here,  
That against pleasure makes thee so severe?  
Behold, my Palace seated for delight,  
Within a Grove, where a smooth brook more bright  
Than shining-Chrystal glides a thousand ways,  
And in amusing tracts itself displays,  
Frequently washing the beloved sides  
Of her delightful banks with loving Tides;  
Where waves call waves, and glide along in ranks,  
And prattle to the water-edging banks:  
Unto whose murmuring, yet gentle falls,  
Melodious birds sing solemn Madrigals;  
And where white Swans do clap their silver wing,  
And on the breast of its Meanders swim.  
Nor in my gates doth any grief reside:  
Mirth only, Halcyon pleasures here abide  
In all variety, which recommend  
Enjoyment, and for eminence contend.  
Here on the Lesbian Lute by skilful hand  
Soft strains are struck, which all the Soul command;  
Or the Chitarh, or Thracian Harp, which break  
Hearts made of Rocks, and them their captives make▪  
Though of these Symphonies none can expel  
Those rough desires which in thy bosom devil;  
In melancholy notions whose delight  
Is rather placed, which human souls affright.  
My Tables daily groan, as though each feast  
Would as a flood devour all Fowl and Beast;  
So Princely are they served: There Bacchus flows  
In burnished Gold, and frolic Cups bestows.  
Nay, of things wild here I have likewise store;  
Of Fowl, of Venison, and the savage Boar:  
Only in these I ever am beguiled  
Of my due share, since Joseph is not wild.  
And yet by Feasts, where Tables glutted are,  
Loves practices we found most active there:  
The toxed with wine, and dainties overfed,  
With heightened lust go evermore to bed  
Ease genders teeming flesh, nor he soft days  
Who doth enjoy, can choose but run her ways.  
A belly filled with meats of various kind,  
Seeks where an exit the excess may found.  
Methinks that youth, whilst him fair Dames caress,  
Their love who yet endeavours to suppress,  
Or who in midst of mirth sits sably sad,  
Doth either dream, or else is plainly mad.  
Indeed thou art a dreamer, and from thee  
What doth proceed, th'effect of fancies be.  
They robbed thee first (if Fame doth not beguile)  
Of brethren's love, and wrought thee this exile:  
Nor, if thy dreams thou leav'st not, wilt thou be  
Lesle hated in this Palace, both by me  
And by my Lord; by him, through my devise:  
O therefore dream not more, if thou art wise.  
In one hour that, which tenscore years thrice told,  
From shameful view old Noah did withhold,  
Wine showed to transient eyes; and shall its spirit  
Raise in thy youthful members no delight?  
Why should not ease as others, work on thee?  
Canst thou lesle feeling than all mortals be,  
When tender Love doth her soft charms inject?  
Wherein hast thou than others more defect?  
Alas, what is't thus I am forced to see  
Two contrarieties made up in thee?  
My Chamber with all lovely pomp is decked,  
Which eyes with wonder and with love affect:  
Egyptian needles there have shown what skill,  
And patience, and industry can fulfil;  
So lively, that there seems a doubtful strife  
Betwixt the senseless shadows and the life.  
My bed than with this Arras over-laid,  
Thereon Egyptian Amours are displayed  
With skill so tempting, that they charm delight  
In the most cold, and with command invite  
To those so pleasing pleasures, whilst they speak,  
And in fair stories their intentions break.  
All smell of Sovereign balms compounded so,  
That in their mixture they Conceit outgo;  
Moore precious than the fragrant breath which moves  
The whispering leaves in the Panchain Groves.  
The Arabian wind, whose breathing gently blows  
Purple to th'Violet, blushes to the Rose,  
Did never yield an odour like to these,  
So greatly which that smelling sense doth please:  
Not Myrrh, no Cassia, nor more choice perfumes  
Of untouched Nard, or Aromatic fumes  
Of hot Arabia doth enrich the air  
With more delicious sweetness, or more rare.  
O come than, let us in the downy plume  
Tumble with boldness, and in clasps consume  
The hours in feats of love, pledging each other  
In mutual flames, and dastard ponderings smother.  
Nor need we fear an absent Husband now,  
Whom we involved in Court-concerns do know,  
So deeply too, that he not thought behind  
Hath left at home of his so cumbered mind.  
Well, for a close than, get thee without fear  
To th'door of my withdrawing chamber, where  
Thrice softly knock, and than as often be still;  
Than knock again, the door shall do thy william.  
Be this thy warning, and forthwith advance  
With undisturbed mind. In dalliance  
We so some hours will spend. Most happy boy,  
Who without sighs so freely mayst enjoy  
That bliss for which so many sighed in vain,  
Nor any fruit could of their suit obtain.   
JOSEPH. 
BUt whilst your Chambers glory thus you raise,  
With far-fetched words, the subtle Merchant's ways  
I found you use, who doth the best expose  
Of his bad wares, nor will their faults disclose.  
You golden pleasures offer unto me,  
But of a wounded mind can silent be:  
Of momentany joys you glibly tell,  
But leave untouched the future woes of Hell.  
Though therefore thus you Chambering dalliance praise,  
Within my breast yet this no lust can raise:  
For sweet though these delights are to your mind,  
Yet I therein much bitterness do found;  
On which when I reflect, from trembling than  
No stay I have: as with an iron pen  
I found it in my fear-possessed mind  
Deeply engraven. He who is inclined  
To acts adulterous with his neighbour's wife,  
Sports with his body, Soul, and future life.  
Behold, the evil Conscience, that great Book  
Wherein vile deeds as black as Hell do look;  
That memorable record, where is writ  
All ill men do, all goodness they omit:  
If such mine be, a tempest in my mind,  
An ever-barking dog I there shall found:  
Nor shall my fears, my sorrows, my affrightings,  
My late-wished had I wists, remorseful bitings,  
From thence proceeding, ever have an end,  
But with those plagues for evermore contend.  
Gild makes us shake when ruffling leaves we hear;  
When a light breath but moves the grass, we fear:  
Before the naked walls, our looks grow pale;  
Nor whilst the cause abides, can help avail.  
The Husbands fear both needs must overtake,  
Who vengeance claims for his robbed honour's sake;  
He will no bribe accept, no gold will blind  
Or lay the rage of his incensed mind:  
Pale jealousy, with everwaking eyes,  
Will seek, when once alarmed, to surprise  
Both in the filthy act, which when it shall,  
One fate they both shall have, and sink one fall.  
Now think if Potiphar should once obtain  
Light of our practices, my God what pain,  
What whips, or wracks, or cruel deaths should be  
Cruel enough for such a wretch as me?  
Not more than words, but deeds would speak his mind;  
Me on the slaughtering bank to flay he'd bind;  
And there begin, where in a fatal time  
Began my so injurious mortal crime:  
He'd spit my Carcase than; that roasted, he  
Would throw to dogs, for them to feed on me.  
Nay, whatsoever plagues might be devised,  
Together should on me be exercised.  
Nor yet should this at all his rage atone,  
But unto more revenge, he'd seek each bone,  
And them, now bore, together fitly knit,  
As like a chair, where you forlorn shall sit;  
A chair so framed, where days with panting breath  
You in the Ribs shall devil as chained in death,  
And where of life though I am dispossessed,  
Your guilty Limbs yet in my lap shall rest.  
Shall rest, said I? O no! What thing can give  
Repose to you, who but to grief shall live?  
Shall live! nor can that be; what life is there,  
Where death is found, or ever-dying fear?  
This tender skin which doth my face impale,  
Shall than for yours become a Harlot's veil.  
Nay, startle not; for this is but the way  
Whereby your lips you to your Loves may lay.  
This skull shall be your Cup, whence you shall drink,  
Which shall assist you on your joys to think.  
These locks by you so comely deemed to me,  
Shall your bald Crown invest, and border be.  
My skin all day shall hung to intercept  
Your Limbs where you shall prisoner be kept:  
And on the roof men so the same shall hasp,  
As if it would you in its arms inclasp.  
But when the pensive night her wings shall spread,  
And drowziness in eyes of mortals shed;  
When nothing's heard but now and than the howl  
Of some vile Cur, or whooping of the Owl;  
And when the horned Moon by her pale light  
The more shall raise the horror of the night:  
Than this same skin your limbs shall overspread,  
As burying you alive among the dead.  
And why all this is done when you inquire,  
Remember but the things you now desire;  
Not farther searching you shall need to make,  
But for sufficient answer that may take.   depiction of people dining 
O my good God but what should I than do,  
Heaped with plagues more dismal far than you?  
Within whose mind a sorer load should devil,  
By how much more my guilt should yours excel.  
Imagine I were taken in the fact,  
And forthwith so to death's dominions packed,  
Hurried away by a superior hand;  
Think how my case than in God's sight should stand.  
So as the losty Tree doth fall, it lies;  
And so doth earthborn man, when once he dies:  
So as his dying flesh he puts of here,  
So he before God's judgement must appear;  
And as he doth unto his grave go down,  
So he shall rise to shame or high renown.  
The day doth come when all the world shall lie  
Frying in flames, and Time itself shall dye;  
When seas with skies, and skies with seas shall join,  
And stars with stars confounded, lose their shine:  
When the whole hinge of these inferior things  
Shall all be broke, and run into their springs;  
When the dread Trump shall thunder through the deep,  
And wake dead Mortals from their longest sleep;  
And when the dreadful Judge, in middle air,  
Shall summon Souls before him to appear.  
O how wilt thou approach, vile flesh, that eye  
Of God, who like the swine didst live and dye,  
When he shall on his great Tribunal sit,  
And judge the Trespasses thou didst commit  
In thy past days of flesh? when thy own breast  
Shall testify against thee, and infested  
Thy soul with horrid fear, whilst thou dost stand  
A foul Contemner of God's great Command?  
When all thy works shall be disclosed to thee,  
How vast, how manifold, how black they be?  
And when thou shalt behold that all is known  
Whatever thou hast evil thought and done?  
Wilt thou be than as now, so bold? no, fear  
Will make thy courage quickly disappear:  
Cold sweat, joints knocking, and stiff bristling hair  
Do plainly show no courage to be there.  
Fear is the palsy of the mind and soul,  
A Tempest which no cunning can control;  
No bribes, or blandishments, or Charms, its rage,  
By guilt iugendered, ever can assuage:  
But after Trial, than the Sentence flies  
Like thunder, at which voice the sinner dies  
(Not mortally) so horrible the tone,  
Departed thou cursed: whereupon a groan  
(Far dolefuller than those in pangs of death)  
Are fetched by guilty hearts as in a breath.  
When we departed from life, to death we come;  
And God once gone, than Devils take his room.  
Shut out from Heaven, we must go to Hell,  
There with our sins and their effects to devil.  
Aye me! who can describe that place of woe?  
But those that feel it, by their feeling do.  
They surely err, who dream there Hydra stands,  
Or Scylla, Briareus with his hundred hands,  
Or flamed Chimeras, Harpies, full of rape,  
Or snaky Gorgon's, Gerion's triple shape,  
Or those three Furies, daughters to old Night,  
Implacable, and hating all delight,  
Who whilst before the slaming gates they sit,  
With wrathful Combs their snaky curls unknit;  
Or This with his fierce Daemons, or the Host  
Of fleshly Ghosts in sensual flames that roast;  
Or other fictions more: but I am sure  
There sorrows devil which evermore endure:  
And an immortal God shall than lay on  
Plagues which both cannot, and yet must be born.  
He'll plague than like a God, whilst wretched we  
Must bear them (though we can't) eternally.  
O thou Eternity, what great amaze  
Does thy reflection in my inwards raise!  
Thy endless thought creates another Hell  
In midst of it, if not its woes excel.  
But these things in your thoughts are fond, you show,  
And I in your conceit for simple go.  
Well, though I do, yet the divine Behests  
Of God in simple uprightness consists.  
Than as a dreamer you 'gainst me exclaim,  
Although than this I have no greater name:  
Nay, whosoever for this cause may frown,  
Yet on my head I'll bear it as my Crown,  
And for it praise my God; hereby I see,  
That in my ways his Spirit is with me.  
When sovereign sleep descendeth from on high,  
And on their Couch these members stretched do lie,  
My sprightly Soul, that part of Heavenly fire,  
Nor sleeps nor slumbers, but remains entire  
In action. By strange visions of the night,  
I in my soul perceive the God of light,  
Whose Spirit than, whilst others slumbers bind,  
Graciously communes with my ravished mind,  
Plainly foreshowing to myself what shall,  
And mighty Realms, in future days befall.  
Though from my soil for dreams Hate banished me,  
Again by dreams yet I shall raised be;  
And those this evil who have wrought me, shall  
With suppliant knee unto my mercy fall;  
That seek with contrite tears, deep groans, and see  
Their hate than past shall be forgot by me.  
Nor shall I seek revenge, but they shall found  
To them I'll bear a loving brother's mind.  
But grant I had power, and should with crafty wile,  
The watchful eyes of Jealousy beguile;  
Alas, what help yet for me in that hour,  
When guilty thoughts should all my peace devour?  
Who knows not, though with care by th'vicious sought,  
Yet their own mind to peace cannot be bought;  
That loudly vengeance crying, each vile heart  
So Condemnation must to't self impart.  
You may obscure your deeds in graves below,  
Or in thick darkness them abscond: but know,  
Although the Conscience you may charm asleep,  
That yet you never shall long silent keep.  
O not, your injured God, while drowsy night  
Your eyelids close, your thoughts with shapes shall fright,  
Resembling just your guilt; and unto day  
Your works produce, which in oblivion lay.  
That there's a God, nor need you seek to found;  
Turn but within, and see him in your mind:  
Examine there, and you will quickly know  
That he's above, and in your thoughts below.  
When heat of lust doth in the lustful cease,  
Straight deep remorse becomes their mind's disease.  
Pleasures once overblown, and youth decayed,  
Regret and Trembling doth the Soul invade.  
Who's pleased when he compares his short joys spent,  
With lasting woes, their purchase, which torment  
The Mind and Body with far greater pain,  
Than all those joys before did pleasure gain?  
For seeds of pleasure, we but ever found,  
Are cowardice and horror in the mind.  
Do, go, enjoy your swing, choose carnal things;  
These are those soft delights with deadly stings,  
The death of Souls, confusion of all grace,  
The worm that gnaws for never-ending space.  
Well than, (O much deceived) if true delight  
You yet desire, than bravely show despite  
To lust; deny your eyes, superbly spurn  
At Love, which doth in lust forbidden burn.  
Alas! and what's these joys? youth swiftly flies  
To hoary age, and with it Pleasure dies;  
Our day-sun set, and sable night come on,  
Our woes so come, and so our joys are gone.  
Still to do good, and overcome the heart,  
Doth evermore unto the Soul impart  
All comfort, and thence grief compels to fly:  
'Tis the best pleasure, Pleasure to deny.  
O thou transcendent joy, celestial rest,  
How happy are those Souls by thee possessed!  
No joy or pleasure like to that we found,  
Whose fixed abode is in a righteous mind.   
SEPHYRA. 
WEll than, I see that kindness is too weak  
Thy savage temper to subdue or break;  
Which since it cannot my great cause defend,  
That than on other motives I must bend.  
I know that slothful jades refuse to stir,  
Till in their sides they feel the galling spur.  
If thou art such, (and such thou seem'st to be)  
Expect the fruits than of my hate on thee.  
Once when a woman prostrates her good Na●●m  
Her Honour, Virtue, Chastity, her Fame,  
To him she loves, if her designs she miss,  
As one besides herself stark mad she is;  
Big with revenge, therein impatient grows,  
And frantically all hindrance overthrows  
Crossing her end; no charms may her assuage;  
Even friends she sacrifices to her rage.  
The sweeter wine at first is found to be,  
The tarter, when corrupted, proves, we see.  
Of once denied courtesies we found  
The strongest malice ever left behind.  
And these all meance thee, if to that joy  
I kindly woo thee to, thou wilt be coy:  
Where know, thou shalt not sooner this deny,  
But in extremest Tortures thou shalt dye.  
Our passions to extremities dilate,  
Flying the mean, we overlove or hate.  
Thou than who art resolved no love to show,  
Know, from this hour my hate on thee doth grow  
Fierce and implacable. War I declare,  
And what I can device, I shall prepare  
To work thy woe; all mischief than on thee  
That falls, be confident it comes from me.  
In deeds of black revenge we ever see,  
The woman's faculties more pregnant be  
Than those of man; for in profound deceit  
And wise conduct she is the most complete.  
Well, what invented or performed can be  
Of fiercest plagues, shall all be fling on thee.  
Each act of thine, or word thou shalt have said,  
Shall kill thee, such constructions shall be made.  
Nor yet enough, things worse I'll do than these:  
This crime of mine (such are our practices)  
I'll turn on thee, and stiffly this to be  
A truth affirm, Thou wouldst have ravished me.  
This to effect, my thoughts now in me fry:  
Not holding helps, all my inventions fly  
Where anger leads: for me there is no cure;  
Thou must my love obey, or rage endure,  
Like a brave Soul, who when in prison penned,  
Than more than ever in desire is bend  
T'enjoy lost liberty. 'Tis scarce believed  
What by extremities have been achieved.  
This dire affair I must and will conclude,  
Though Earth, Sea, Fire, and Air should be renewed  
In their first Chaos: And although thou art  
Ne'er so resolved against my raging smart,  
Yet I'll proceed, and imitate the snake,  
Whose head if catcht, a tail-defence doth make.  
So if I found there is no other way,  
Thou thy denial with thy blood shalt pay;  
Hereto I am arrived with steadfast mind,  
As links in Chains, so sinful deeds are joined.  
Who ill contrives, he must proceed therein,  
And for his cloak with nimble skill begin  
His false complaint: they who first audience gain,  
Though criminal, the just man's right obtain.  
He who a villainy hath undertaken,  
Upon no lies with tender thoughts must look:  
A face of brass must his defence become,  
Jest ignominious shame should prove his doom.  
When potent might is joined with mortal hate,  
What evil cannot these two powers created?  
Like Thunderbolts, all let's they overthrew;  
And fearest thou not what all my power can do?  
Think on thy case; my Husband will believe  
My words, and thee of all thy state bereave:  
Commit thee to a Goal as dark as night,  
Where neither Sun nor horned moon give light:  
There than a cruel hangman shall torment  
Thy flesh, and for thy mind fierce plagues invent:  
A hand shall than (that never knew respect)  
Dis-robe thy body, nakedness detect;  
And on the painful Wrack thy members bind,  
Them by his art unsufferably wind,  
And sever joint from joint, from foot to hand,  
As men before the fire the wax expand:  
By a fierce wretch thy flesh than shall be pricked  
With pointed gads; he shall thy mind afflict,  
That from wished rest deprive, and the long night  
Extract so all thy strength and youthful sprite.  
Yet more! than water one shall pour in thee,  
Which shall by stamps again expressed be.  
So that all tortures which can be devised,  
Together shall on thee be exercised.  
In that mean while if one should sadly ask,  
Why thus thou must perform this baleful task,  
Say than the truth: Because a beauty used  
Kindness, love offered, which yet I refused.  
Unheard-of folly! who will not deride  
This frenzy? for thereto will be applied  
Thy hateful deeds: O, most of all unwise,  
Will all exclaim, who pleasure didst despise!  
Justly doth sorrow now thy life devour,  
Who bliss refusedst when within thy power.  
thou'rt dudley plagued, whom pleasure did invite  
To ease, yet who indreams took'st more delight.  
Thy patience thus shall standers by employ,  
Though the sweet sin thou never didst enjoy.  
All shall thy innocency than accuse,  
And because guiltless, with all scorn abuse.  
One that's tormented for deserved crimes,  
Thinks for his sins this is of former times,  
And therefore bears his plagues with quiet heart:  
But guiltless to be plagued, 's a bearless smart.  
Some ease it is in midst of all his grief,  
To recollect past joys; 'tis some relief  
Pleasures to bring to mind enjoyed of late;  
But plagues unmerited are plagues too great.  
When than long pains shall through thy vitals press,  
Than shalt thou yet at last all true confess  
Which shall be laid against thee, though ne'er done;  
And than is thy good name and glory gone.  
What signifies a good report, if we  
As criminals shall executed be?  
If with transgressors 'tis our lot to fall?  
For th'end if bad, there's nothing good at all.  
Be not beguiled, the flesh is falsely frail;  
Pain shall with thee (though just) to lie prevail.  
How many Innocents' when come to dye,  
Hath torments pained, hath pain constrained to lie?  
But go soft-headed, for a beauty choose  
Fantastic dreams, which do thy mind abuse;  
For peaceful ease, swollen grief; for pleasure, pain;  
Hate, for soft love; repining loss, for gain;  
Uneasy Prison, flesh-oppressing bands,  
For soft embracements in loves clustering hands;  
The wracks fierce torments, for my easy bed,  
And with all plagues for pleasures to be fed.  
Thus weeping choose, instead of to rejoice.  
But ah! betwixt them there's too great a choice:  
Far wiser 'tis thy Sephyra to love;  
Thy youth to cherish is a wit above  
The quenching of its heat; why shouldst thou tame  
That in thy breast, which is but natures slain?  
So many men throughout their lives there be,  
Who on pitched planks do plough the pathless sea,  
Hazarding Life and Soul for but small gain,  
Whilst thou through love may'st mighty wealth obtain.  
Since I my bed present, well may'st thou guests  
Thee I design besides all happiness.  
Thy whole desire, that but by signs expressed,  
Shall straight be done unto thy heart's request:  
Preserve this lesson; he who can contrive  
How in our sheets he may to hunt arrive,  
His work is done; thenceforth the gentle prey  
Clings to her Hunter, and doth him obey.  
When once a wife doth strangers beds frequent,  
The spare box-gets a crack, the purse a rent:  
Whose golden bowels than become possessed  
By him, who hath most value in her breast.  
What shall I add? she who hath given away  
The key of all her honour, she the way  
Hath to her treasure open laid, besides  
Sharer in bed, in goods the same abides.  
Hast thou not heard, that Richeses to obtain  
Through smooth Adultery is so sweet a gain,  
So pleasant a contrivance, lightsome task,  
That youth could never for a choicer ask?  
Well, I have done; only this more would say,  
As but a means from thee my rage to stay:  
If yet thou wouldst but ease my inward pains,  
For Iron-shackles thou with golden chains  
Shouldst honoured be, nor evermore molested  
With slavery henceforth; but now invested  
With freedom: nay, forthwith for thee I'd have  
A place at Court, which I would either crave  
Of Potiphar, or of the Prince: all know  
How far with both of them my word can go.  
But if thou seekest wealth, freedom or renown,  
Grant my request, and they are all thy own.   
JOSEPH. 
HOw! think you love may be by force upheld?  
O you're deceived, no love will be compelled,  
It moves of's own accord, ill must they far,  
Whose minds forced wedlock doth together pair.  
To  shifts though fear a man may move,  
Yet no coaction can be laid on love;  
That free inclined, submits to no command,  
Nor doth of fear itself lest moved stand.  
If good, your cause you should with grounds uphold  
Moore strong; but now remember what of old  
Is said: the maid though coy, may yet be won;  
But if the man refuse, the love's undone.  
And sure I am, few ever found success,  
Who love from any sought by force to press.  
Small recreation in their chase they found,  
Unwilling Hounds who force by stripes unkind.  
By various plagues you threaten I shall dye,  
If I your passions to assuage deny.  
With lies you say you'll overspread my name,  
And to my Lord detract my spotless fame.  
Yet I'm unmoved. Aye me! should I respect  
The precepts of proud dust, and so neglect  
The Oracles of God my giddy head  
And heart from reason than would be misled;  
Should I a mortal fear? a wife before  
My God with lowly bended knee adore?  
A woman so unconstant, whose frail time  
Hath often a period in its youthful prime?  
Not, God forbidden this folly; let me not  
Myself lay on my name a worse blot,  
By foolishly assenting to your crime,  
Than you can do but for a space of time.  
Let come what will; let sowr-eyed scoffers mock;  
Let scandalising tongues disgorge their stock  
Of venomous report; let cruel man  
My mind and body torture all he can.  
With obloquy, although I should be fling,  
With malice torn, with fiery tongues be stung;  
Though shame her excrements, and hate her gall  
Should cast, I'd value none of them at all.  
Who marks of truth hath in his Soul descried,  
Doth with the Moon the snarls of dogs deride.  
A blameless mind is fearless, and outvies  
The highest rage of hate, or brass-browed lies.  
This makes us fear no pain, which death will ease,  
When rage has done its worst, and us release:  
Nor may the worst of tortures be compared  
Unto the future joys for us prepared.  
Yea, let your bloody Instruments with strict  
And cruel plagues my tender flesh afflict  
Beyond its strength, this shall be my relief,  
My breast shall cheer me in the midst of grief.  
Though on soft fires I should be laid to burn,  
Or with read Tongues should be asunder torn,  
Or dropped with scalding pitch whilst I am frying,  
Or broken on the painful wheel, or dying  
Through extreme tortures long endured, yet I  
To God with comfort would advance mine eye.  
He will, I know, the force of these assuage,  
Or strengthen me in their extremest rage:  
That whilst my hangmen in their malice toil,  
I in their looks in spite of them shall smile.  
If than 'tis asked, why suffers thus this youth?  
While I can speak I'll answer, Of a truth,  
Because he rather chose this dismal end,  
Than in foul pleasures all his days to spend.  
But when my honest deed shall come to light,  
(Nor can truth long lie hid in envious night)  
Than so much earth I would but only crave,  
Where rest at last my mangled bones might have;  
Next, that this Epitaph might likewise be  
On that black Marble rend, which shadows me.  

Hereunder lies a slave in dismal grief who fell,  
Because he loved his Mistress and his Lord too well.   
A little beast there is, of snow-white skin,  
Which placed down upon the ground, within  
A ring of muck, from whence it cannot flee,  
Unless its Fur shall all-defiled be,  
There shall it stand, nay death much rather choose,  
Than the jest filth its pureness should abuse.  
O if my Marble likewise this expressed  
In life-like action, 'twere my third request:  
Thus than at lest I shall this rest obtain,  
Where such as you not more shall grieve again  
My persecuted Soul, and this same thing  
Among my bones shall make my spirit sing;  

Adieu, vain world, alas, how vain to me!  
That wouldst not yield me one days rest from woe.  
My days, though but spanlong, yet in them be  
A world of griefs which me did overflow.  
Now they are done, and with them done my fears  
Of restless evils, with my restless tears.   

When in the world I lived with worldly men,  
Their wicked Souls deep stained in sinful spot,  
Would either slain me too, or grieve me than,  
Nor might I'scape their scourge, if so their blot.  
But now I'm there where wicked numbers cease  
From troubling more, and where I rest in peace.   

Because affliction sat upon my brow,  
And was my mate, how men did chase my life!  
Nor Goal nor Prison could suffice; for how  
Men most might plague me was their manly strife.  
But now their rage is done, not more I hear  
The fierce Oppressor's voice far of or near.   

How have I groaned beneath the toilsome yoke  
Of sin, and woes, which sinful deeds enfold!  
How have I wept my sins which God provoke,  
So wearied out till all my days were told.  
Now my tired bones this grave which doth receive,  
From all these toils gives me a safe reprieve.   
And while I thus rejoice, here yet will be  
Those that will bless my happy memory;  
In Sacred Hymns composed for this sake,  
When in their hearts chaste melody they make.  
Thus I shall ever live, though dead, when you  
In insamy shall live for ever too.  
Whose memory will but exalt my name,  
And infamy increase my greater fame.  
From which of your persuasions than should I  
Fear all your deaths, since I can never dye?  
Not, since my death will be a gain to me,  
And by your rage, from trouble set me free?  
Well, I'm resolved, death than I'll rather choose,  
Than my chaste body with vile lust abuse.  
Think not I shall relent, I'm fixed herein,  
As much as you are to commit the sin.  
Alas! you're still deceived, not pleasures past,  
Shall the tormented than with ease repast,  
If the effects of sin; 'tis guiltlesness  
Shall comfort such in their extreme distress.  
'Tis known, they who are plagued for sin do devil  
That while, as in the dismal woes of Hell.  
On God 'tis I depend: he'll make me taste  
Of his sweet life in death. Methinks I hast  
Towards him with all joy, (though through the fire  
You threaten) with insatiate desire.  
O therefore think not I for fear of you  
Shall God offend, and lust with you pursue.   
SEPHYRA. 
NOw must I say, (though sorry for thy sake)  
Thou than to bend dost rather choose to break.  
As clear as day I found it now most true,  
What fancy will in sturdy humours do.  
But what's this Spirit, thus that all things weighs,  
That against every pleasure so inveighs?  
Surely a sickness in the crazy mind,  
When that to melancholy is inclined.  
The lunatic of Castles in the air  
So dream, and labour with ludibrious care,  
Something, they know not what, to bring to pass.  
So thou but dreamest of things that never was.  
'Tis fumes of brain which in a foggy state  
Of weather cloud it, and do dissipate;  
When east-winds purge the air, and skies do smile.  
This to regard I think not worth the while.  
Shall I add more?—   
JOSEPH. 
N—No, 'tis enough, forbear;  
Nor may you say, nor may I longer hear  
Such Blasphemies. O thou long-suffering grace,  
That such reproaches sufferest to thy face!  
You speak but by him, yet that tongue employ  
To utter words that would himself destroy!  
This Spirit is no dizziness of brain,  
But what in flesh and blood no faith can gain.  
I do not marvel you cannot conceive  
What in your thoughts you never did receive:  
The Spider's cobweb can enfold no winds,  
Nor can the Spirit rest in carnal minds.  
Night-Owls and twilight-Bats abhor the light,  
And Sol's bright rays but cheer the blessed with sight.  
The Spirit in our Souls from God above  
Is given, as an earnest of his love.  
This is our comforter, our guide, our light,  
Our Sanctuary in this gloomy night  
Of grief, of error, darkness, and distress:  
By this our wants in prayers we express;  
Without it we're unsafe, nor can we say  
What 'tis we want, much lesle for blessings pray.  
Hereby our heart's celestially sublime,  
And raised, become above the Moon to climb,  
Above the stars, even to the sacred breast  
Of God, the Summum bonum of our rest.  
His hereby we are known; this is his Seal,  
Which us his own, and him doth ours reveal.  
It clears the clouds of ignorance away;  
Us to ourselves doth needfully display;  
Begets all graces in us, kindles love  
Within our breasts, which towards God doth move,  
Destroyeth than all worldly love from thence,  
And shields us from its hurtful influence.  
The flowing honey-combs delicious taste  
Is not comparable to the repast  
This gives the Soul, in which its beams when shot,  
It changes earthly pleasures into naught.   
SEPHYRA. 
NO way, I see, there's for me to prevail,  
This Spirit or I must with might assail;  
For all what I produce, and on thee gain,  
This wind repels, and renders quite in vain.  
I'm bend against this Spirit with fierce hate.  
But come, I'll know more thoroughly its state.  
First, what's the Flesh? Jos. Our nature since the Fall.  Seph. 
The Spirit?  Jo. 
That, which frees us from that thrall.  Seph. 
Is Flesh our nature, which yet you resist?  
Enough, hereon I purpose to insist.  
For once, I'll of our nature take the part.  Jos. 
That you have long since done, with snaky art.  
What ever you have said, I took the same,  
As from the flesh substantially it came.  
Hence if the flesh its state you would detect,  
On your own language than you must reflect.  Seph. 
Now, be thou than the Spirit, that defend;  
With thee this case to weigh I condescend.  
What clause makes this, thou sayest, that each with hate  
Should always with his flesh and blood debate?  
Peace is commended by all men, we see;  
But where there's war, how can there quiet be?  
Where hate vindictive dwells, disposed to fight,  
How can there grow the fruit of love's delight?  
We are enjoined to love, which grace must flow  
Continually from us; but do we show  
Any thing of it, when with deadly rage,  
Our flesh and blood to tortures we engage?  
What contradiction and what madness too,  
Does thy Soul utter and persuade us to!  
We must seek peace, and yet must broils maintain;  
Both love ourselves, and put ourselves to pain;  
Our happiness design, yet that destroy:  
Such Medlies does thy little Soul employ.  
But in thy judgement none will join with thee,  
I think, that are not mad, or changelings be.  
All men commend the tractable, but none  
The sour, morose, they're hated by each one.  
He prospers in the world who to the times  
Does suit himself, and yields to lesser crimes.  
A creditable name hereby he gains,  
And every where access and love obtains.  
But the precise, how odious are they!  
Such humours best fanatics does display.   
JOSEPH. 
OF pious peace indeed, much might be said,  
But shall conspiracy with sin be made  
The peace enjoined? Can darkness devil with light?  
Or peacefully the Heat with Cold unite?  
The living will not with the dead intwine;  
Nor love the sound with the diseased to join.  
The spriteful stripling will not be content  
The flower of his affections should be spent  
Upon a loathsome Carcase, void of Soul,  
Whence crawling vermin in thick knots do roll.  
And yet who with his vices is at peace,  
Worse enormities commits than these.  
Who will endure him in his house alive,  
That of her honour would his wife deprive?  
None sure will suffer in his tender breast  
Venomous serpents peacefully to rest.  
With him, you know, the Law is not content  
To be at peace, whose mind's to Morder bend.  
 women should at every season be  
In feuds with Lust, and its temptations flee.  
Peace is preserved, not broke thereby, whose end  
To lasting rest within the mind doth tend.  
The world the pliant love, say you, but hate  
Those whom you call morose, and does debate  
With them by adverse Fortune evermore,  
Till they by tears their misery deplore.  
But who are here these tractable you mean?  
And who than those morose? the world's esteem  
Here will not stand, which must once judged be  
By him, who than her Enemies will free  
From their imputed guilt, condemn than those  
Who yielded to the Laws she did impose.  
Persuasions dressed in moving eloquence  
For sinful ends, do therefore often incense  
 minds from hearing, and so them engage  
To fly from that which doth their death presage.  
For this give not reproachful names to these;  
'Twill but the more discover your disease,  
Moore odious far than those vile terms you vent  
Against them, who to you are innocent.  
Indeed in this respect we should give way,  
When good persuasions move us to obey:  
Here the untractable do merit shame;  
And justice for their punishment does claim.  
If to God's word you order your requests,  
We are agreed; farewel than our contests:  
But if injustice you require, our peace  
In that would but our misery increase.  
Like the fond Ape, who with a strict embrace,  
From her beloved brat doth life express:  
Or like the fonder Mother, who a knife  
Gives to her babe, with which it ends its life.  
The Gardener prunes his spreading Vine, we know,  
Nor barren branches doth permit to grow:  
This is not strange, for which of us don't see,  
That so the bearing may more fruitful be?  
The festering wound is by the Surgeons cut,  
Unto more strong and painful dolours put;  
And yet it is notorious by this same  
Proceeding, that a ture is all his aim.  
Sharp corrosiving plasters, that are made  
For dangerous sores, pain when thereon they're laid;  
But when they are applied upon that part  
That's sound, 'tis not at all perceived they smart.  
My words, though harsh, if you cannot digest,  
yourself's the cause, you're with sore plagues possessed.  
The Spirits balm, which works in you that pain,  
Had you the will, would yield you greatest gain.   
SEPHYRA. 
HOw woeful is that state which ever toils  
In midst of fierce contentions, truel broils!  
How miserable's he who in his mind  
A mutiny against himself must found!  
Justly this Spirit doth our plaints provoke,  
So insupportable that makes our yoke;  
That presseth our assent above the sky,  
Though we are made of earth, and cannot fly.  
The mightiest Realms do certainly decay,  
If in its bowels civil discords sway.  
Cities nor Families can longer stand,  
When deadly feuds within usurp command.  
How should the heart within man's narrow breast  
Found place in such a compass to digest  
All those fierce broils, upheld with mutual hate,  
Frays, quarrels, fights, which must admit no date?  
For what is man but gliding smoke, a vapour,  
A fleeting shade, a self-consuming Taper,  
An empty air, a wind, a brittle thing,  
And what else frail we can for likeness bring.  
If with this Vessel thou'lt be thus severe,  
Needs must the bands of life asunder rear.  
As like a Mine, pressed with embowdled fire,  
giveth way, unable to contain its ire.  
Wherhfore should man so his endeavours bend  
Against himself, and with himself contend?  
Maintain within his Soul continual wars,  
So being with himself at restless jars?  
Mankind from women did, thou knowst, proceed,  
Whose Mother was obtained with that speed,  
When wooing words and fruit did her allure,  
Against that force unable to endure.  
Nor more than she can we, her issue, choose  
To fall at words, such charms do they infuse:  
What comes from Cats, is prove to flesh of Mice.  
Ourselves both love we cannot and despise,  
Or our desires. Who can his nature's frame  
Forsake, or cross the dictates of the same?  
We're of frail crudities, in lust begun,  
Curdled as Cream, as Chief together run,  
Born in the Womb, fed with the breasts white flood,  
Rocked with soft songs; in short, we're flesh and blood.  
How will this nothing his desires affail,  
Or with success against himself prevail,  
Whose cruel victory does but portend  
His miserable ruin in the end?   
JOSEPH. 
THough you disguise your lust in reasons dress,  
Against it my dislike yet I'll express;  
Though against me your utmost you engage,  
Yet I'll oppose but with a juster rage.  
Blessed he, who in this quarrel doth persist;  
With sin its cursed dictates to resist;  
Happy that mind which evermore doth fight  
With its own lusts, and contradicts their might.  
There is a blessed contest, a holy war,  
An upright enmity, a gainful jar;  
Again, there is a peace, a rest, a joy,  
Which doth our Souls of all its peace destroy.  
'Tis not our loss that lusts a war maintain  
Within our Souls, and put our flesh to pain:  
Our sins to see doth not proceed from sin.  
To feel sins evil doth from good begin.  
Though this seems strange, and wounds you to the Soul,  
Yet it is true, our lusts we must control.  
That evil which our certain death will prove,  
We by its death should surely first remove.  
Our most beloved lusts, our dearest pleasures,  
Our carnal comforts, all our earthly Treasures,  
We in our hearts must not endure to devil,  
Or else their fierce allurements there repel.  
The most occult recesses of our mind,  
That whereunto our nature is inclined,  
Our frame, our constitution, we in chains  
Must bind, as Rebels, and afflict with pains.  
For by the Fall so hapless man declined,  
That all was spoylt within his heedless mind:  
And since so totally did sin deprave  
His Offspring, that 'tis only sin they crave.  
Would it were with me as I'd wish to be,  
Both from this world, and from myself I'd flee;  
Such treacherous Companions do I found  
Remaining in my bones, and in my mind.  
Why hug we thus this world and worldly things,  
Which no content, but sour vexation brings!  
How is it that our Heavenborn Souls so prove  
Are unto Earth, and not to God alone!  
They that for Heaven intent, of Heaven must speak,  
Heaven-wards must look, and through Heavens' gates must break;  
And they by constant labour must outdo  
The restless malice of the Tempter too.  
But why thus heap I words, where words are vain?  
Briefly, Heavens road not easy is, or plain.  
A thorny way, and through a thorny gate  
It is that leads unto that blissful state.  
Our hearts, I know, are full of crooked desires,  
In our best duties much of sin suspires;  
Yet comfort we unspeakable may found,  
That are his Children, for our troubled mind.  
'Tis beyond doubt the blessed Prince of peace  
Shall come, and make our expectations cease?  
His day I saw already in my mind,  
And pressed his lips with salutation kind.  
Long since I have beheld, as from afar,  
A strange far-blazing glory, a bright star,  
Boding great light, prepared for Zeb'luns' day,  
To visit those who in deep darkness lay.  
Behold the wonder which on earth is done,  
A Maid conceives, and doth bring forth a Son;  
A Child, a wondrous Child, Heaven us doth grant,  
Emanuel called, Prince o'th' new-Covenant.  
He was a man of grief, by's own neglected,  
Despised, abused, defamed, mocked, rejected.  
Patiently he upon his own self brought  
Our shame, for sins which we had only wrought.  
His Soul God filled with plagues, his Limbs were rend  
With wounds, he by himself our punishment  
Sustained, and we are by his stripes, his pain,  
To God atoned, and wholly healed again.  
In unknown paths we wandered from our way,  
As scattered sheep without their shepherd stray,  
But by the blessing of his Spirits guide,  
Thenceforth a better way he doth provide.  
As like a Lamb he's to the slaughter brought,  
There as dumb sheep, when by the shearers caught,  
He opens not his mouth, himself prepares  
For greatest plagues, and all with patience bears.  
For our cause he to our Tribunal went,  
There sentence took, and thence to death was sent;  
Whom when they first with bitter scoffs reviled,  
They from the living to the dead exiled.  
But when his blood he shall for offering give,  
His seed shall rise, and through him ever live:  
For by his sufferings as our debt he paid;  
So shall the Father's wrath than quite be laid.  
Well, cheer up than, my Soul, nor now give way  
To thy corruptions, or their laws obey.  
Though thou by nature waste in lust conceived,  
Yet from this Fall thou art by grace up heaved.  
God gives his Spirit which with might assails  
Our lusts, and with sure victory prevails.  
Which sanctifies the feeble Soul withal,  
That else would down to each temptation fall.   
SEPHYRA. 
NOw I shall lose my wits. Preposterous fool,  
Am I not nearer, all this while, my goal!  
Still so unmoved! no Songs but of constraint!  
Come, 'tis enough, this is the old complaint.  
Base is that mind that quiet peace disturbs,  
To freedom that prefers enslaving curbs.  
Withhold, thou criest, afflict, deny, restrain,  
Force, overrule, suppress, torment with pain,  
Banish, nay kill outright. Great Nile, what's here!  
Unheard-of Prodigies by human ear!  
Ah slave, how well the ornament of chains  
Befits thee, who delight'st in slavish pains!  
But thou'dst enslave us too through sly advice;  
Fool, didst thou than believe us so unwise?  
My blood now rises into scornful spite,  
To see thee in such follies take delight.  
At once thou subject of all scorn and hate,  
Methinks I in thy looks now read thy fate.  
Fantastic fop, that tak'st delight in woe,  
Besotted friend of Tears, soft pleasures foe,  
Rebellious-minded soul, at rest in jars;  
In peace as restless, friend to cruel wars.  
Thou perfect Bugbear to refining love,  
Who ominous against thyself dost prove;  
Mankind's misfortune, in a hapless time  
Who sure wast born, and in a fatal clime.  
Thou neither must nor wilt, resolved thou are  
But unto what, thy riddle pray impart?  
Forsooth, a strange conceit within thy mind  
There is of lagging miseries behind.  
Didst ever feel them, fool? who told thee so?  
O grave Tradition, whether true or no.  
But thou shalt feel them now; thyself than tell,  
If greater this, or thy conceited Hell.  
I'll now conclude, nor think that I'll regard  
Compassion more; let death be thy reward,  
Or happy life, as thou shalt yield, or choose;  
Yield to my passions, or that love refuse.  
Fool, thou'rt too frail thy passions to defy  
To a fierce conflict, or thy flesh deny.  
Who with too rigid force his youth constrains,  
Provokes his mind to break withholding reinss.  Jos. 
Since now you have been pleased with snaky guile,  
As for the flesh to argue stiff some while,  
I pray permit me than accordingly,  
That for the Spirit I may make reply.  Seph. 
Not, Joseph, time will thus be spent in vain,  
What I have said, I now repeat again;  
To my request if thou no ear wilt give,  
Thou shalt repent that thou on earth didst live.  
Observe it well. Yet how can I believe  
That Joseph should himself of Bliss bereave?  
Sure if I'm right, more wit doth in him devil,  
And he'll be wise when he considers well.  
Thus by these things thou mayst behold my heart,  
How thou most truly there beloved art.  
Accept my caution, Joseph, have a care;  
Embrace thy fortune, and of woe beware.  
That which by th'chiefest Nobles of the Land  
Hath been pursued, now thou hast in thy hand;  
What erewhiles Potiphar with doubtful fears,  
With dangers long, with pains, with Lover's tears  
Obtained at length, and that by wondrous hap,  
That of its self now tumbles in thy lap,  
Sues for thy favour, pressed with restless fires,  
Sports with thy Net, and to be caught desires,  
Hangs on thy Neck, to thee flings up that door  
Through which our youth have sought to go before;  
That craves thy aid, towards thee lo that wings,  
Offers itself, about thee gently clings,  
Not to become thy Wife, but Love; invites  
Not unto Wedlock's yoke, but lusts delights.  
Needs must thou be a stock devoid of pleasure,  
Empty of every amiable treasure,  
Nay human sense; and sure, if so, must than  
Deserve exile from reasonable men.  
If thy own happiness thou wilt forsake,  
Nor will't of these my choice delights partake  
Needs must thou be some stone, some sapless ●eaf,  
Froward as seas, or than their banks more deaf,  
Than Tops more whimsical, than hoary Ice  
Moore nipping cold, and more than fools unwise.  
But not, it cannot be, I shall prevail,  
Nor longer thus my grief in vain bewail.  
Whom do not courteous smiles move inwardly?  
What heart can stand before a woeing eye?  
What inclination is so strangely nice,  
Whom ruby lips should not to kiss entice?  
With whom done't mirth prevail, smooth-faced delight?  
Whom tempt not dainties blessed with appetite?  
Who if to him I say, thou 'tis I choose,  
So kind a Love yet basely can refuse?  
Who can those arms, wherein he's straight clasped,  
(As like the Oak with clustering joy grasped)  
Break lose with unkind force? Who can refuse  
A beauteous Female for his Love that sues?  
Well, I have done, what's said shall now suffice,  
And sure enough is said to make thee wise.  
Lo, for a while thy sight I will suspend,  
But instantly to come again intent.  
Be not more fond; thyself that while advice  
To take good warning, to beware, be wise.  
I leave thee thy own judge, thou from thy choice  
Thyself may'st sentence with unerring voice.  Exit.  
JOSEPH alone. 
DEar Soul, awaken, thou'lt become the game;  
Against thy life is now this woman's aim,  
Swelled with revenge. By her fierce looks appear,  
And wild behaviour, what thou hast to fear.  
She now her utmost valency assays,  
To fright thee from all chaste and pious ways;  
To cool thy zeal, for which she doth produce  
What to her Cause may seeming strength infuse.  
Thee sometimes feign she would with lust possess:  
Denied, her note than doth in threaten dress.  
One while with flattery strokes, than with constraint  
Cruelly chafes: alas, who can but faint  
In such uncertain conflicts, and so strong,  
Where from ourselves proceeds our greatest wrong!  
With what a show of reason does she dress  
Her lustful Cause! nor equitable lesle  
Does she in her unjustest force appear,  
If we observe her with a carnal ear.  
Alas, how Piety is still oppressed,  
And innocency of right dispossessed!  
The way we walk most slippery is found,  
Where a small trip deprones us on the ground.  
How am I baffled with uncertain things?  
My heart, if crossed, sinks low; if prosperous, wings  
Above aspiring Hermon, more indeed  
That bears than can from human strength proceed.  
This lustful Eve to me her fruit commends,  
And with fair signs my observation bends  
To guests the taste, whilst I its beauty view,  
But 'tis sure death if I her end pursue:  
And yet my flesh this danger will not see,  
Though in the taste I know a death to be.  
Our Father Adam so his wife believed  
Before his God, and his dear Soul bereaved  
Of all its bliss. Ah! by his strength if he  
Though perfect could not stand, how than shall we  
The Offspring of his Fall, in wavering ways  
That are but constant, tossed in evil days?  
The world's a Sea, our strong Desires the Winds,  
The Ship our Flesh, the swelling sails our minds.  
So left, we drive; and when in straits we fall,  
Scarce do we than found Anchors help at all:  
When mighty waves advance, than fail our minds;  
And yet behold more tempests, fiercer winds.  
We whilst we rest pursue, but toil acquire;  
And what should quench our griefs, but feeds their fire.  
When my fierce thirst to cool I do intent,  
Enraged fires than lo my inwards rend.  
My carnal gust in that great sweet doth found,  
Which yet as Wormwood tastes unto my mind.  
The vulgar tale if true, my case than seems  
Like theirs on bed big with nocturnal dreams,  
Who are with Night-mares, as with charms oppressed,  
And than it seems a Rock is on their breast:  
In which sad case, their spirits a cold sweat  
Possess, who labour from this load to get;  
They cry unheard, nor stir, for fear yet shake,  
Till they again become as when awake.  
Or I am like one who through surges breaks,  
And him t'a ship in life's distress betakes,  
Where whilst for help his hands upheaved be,  
Lo, by the Current he's compelled to sea.  
Yet now methinks I'm like Rebecca more,  
When she fierce Esau and my Father bore,  
Where by two different natures of this pair,  
She was of tumults in her womb ware.  
Aye me, what strong commotions, what a fray  
Afflicts my mind! I feel the thing I say.  
But what's more strange? of one behold now two,  
Mortally bend each other to subdue:  
This is the fruit of Soul-beguiling sin.  
I fear not foreign, but strong powers within;  
My bosom breeds the jar, the field's my heart,  
Where two in battle each the other thwart.  
To hate sins ways, the Law instructs my mind,  
Yet in my members sin possessed I found.  
I in the spirit upright paths would tread,  
But by the flesh in ways perverse am led.  
I am in health, and sick, safe and forlorn;  
I live and dye, am buried and newborn;  
My zeal is hot, sometimes than frost more cold;  
Now I'm afraid, and than again as bold.  
I burn and frieze, am blithe and sad of mind;  
I stand, and down I fall; I lose and found.  
Provoked by youth, that which fond youth doth please  
I love, yet contrite tears produce my ease.  
What man yet ever of such wonders read?  
My health is by perpetual sickness bred.  
I'm chased though I pursue, scourged though I strike;  
Even my own affections I dislike.  
I'm my own slave, yet my own self I fear.  
What works my grief, eftsoons I count most dear;  
By these mixed thoughts I'm driven to and from;  
Sometimes I'm tossed on high, than plunged as low.  
Alternately thus they disturb my rest,  
Whilst one commends what t'other did detest.  
Alas, what benefits a bolted door,  
Since that's within which is my greatest sore?  
Whilst above earth sometimes I mount on wing,  
My gross desires me down amain do bring.  
Now I'm refreshed, than with my tears agreed.  
Now retrograde I fly, than on proceed.  
Now joys I feel, than grief my joys offend.  
Now towards Heaven, than towards Hell I bend.  
Now I'm a Prince, than nothing strait at all.  
Now strong I stand, than beneath thoughts I fall.  
Now am I yea, than not; a storm, than still;  
Now ebb, than flood; nor know I mine own william.  
Ah where's my help? my breast cannot contain  
These differing powers; where shall my Soul remain,  
Lust to escape? what by the Eye's espied,  
And craved by th'flesh, by Reason is denied.  
How strange a thing am I? what can express  
My composition in an Emblems dress?  
Half I am Beast, half Man; half black, half white;  
Deformed and comely; and half wrong, half right.  
What dost thou do, my Soul? with suppliant knee  
Go seek thy God, in this thy strait go flee  
To him for help, thou knowst him great and strong,  
And so for those that unto him belong.  
He is the Lord of Battle, and will be  
Thy Conquest; make thou him thy victory.  
He'll make thee strong and hardy, and will lend  
Thee safety, and thy life from hurt defend.  
Only for this thou must approach his Throne  
Of mercy, and to him address thy moan.  
No sin so pressed us yet with cruel might,  
Which prayer did not compel to shameful flight.  
Prayer is our Harness which our minds doth shield,  
That else to Satan's fiery darts would yield.  
Than I begin:  
Great God, my Strength, my Aid,  
Grant I may stand this conflict undismayed;  
Give me the Conquest, let successful speed  
Crown my weak brows, thou Saviour in our need.  
O let not lustful flames, desires unchaste,  
Whereby so often thy stamp's in us defaced,  
Prevail a jot, but, Father, help●thou me,  
A Conscience pure to offer unto thee.  
In miry Pits, behold, confounded I  
Am come, where almost overwhelmed I lie;  
Where, Lord, I found no standing for my feet,  
Thou must sand help, or I my ruin meet.  
Alas, how frail is man, whose holiest works  
Are but vile rags, where ugly evil lurks?  
His highest Sanctity's a withered leaf,  
And even vile beyond his own belief.  
His mind's whole frame through his whole course of life,  
With evil times as with the stream doth drive  
In this world's sea, with various blasts there tossed,  
And here, Lord, if thou helpest not, he is lost.  
My feet in slippery places now abide,  
With my own lusts I'm stormed on every side;  
All bands they break, they to rebellion run;  
Lord, thy restraining grace, or I'm undone.  
And thy directing Spirit give thou me,  
Ease thou my groans, support my feeble knee;  
Defend thy child that trusts in thee from shame,  
Salvation give, and glorify thy Name.  
Distil thy Doctrine like a gentle shower  
Into my narrow breast, there comforts power.  
Drench with thy living streams my thirsting mind,  
And of thy right-hand-pleasures let me found  
That measure in my Soul, that may exile  
Thence sinful joys, as savourless and vile.  
In times of old thy goodness thou hast shown  
To me, whom thou adopted'st for thine own;  
O than thine own defend, teach me to fight  
Against my passions, which in sin delight.  
These are but strangers in my soul, and she  
That takes their part, a stranger unto thee.  
On me O let them not gain any ground,  
But their attempt do thou with shame confounded.  
I beg no worldly Power, nor Wealth do crave,  
Or Regent Thrones, nor Monuments would have  
Raised to my Name; nor pray I for great state,  
Which Fame or human glory might created.  
This only thing I wish I might obtain,  
That of my heart a conquest I might gain  
At this sad hour. If I'm but safe within,  
All outward force shall never make me sin.  
Than cheer thee, Soul, God bows to thy complaint  
A willing ear; I feel his love's constraint  
Rejoicing me: In tears, methinks, my song  
I now can make; at weakest I am strong.  
O my dear Soul, the richeses of that grace  
Observe which fills thy heart: thy Saviour's face  
Go meet, behold thy God doth now begin  
To knock at thy heart's door, haste, let him in.  
What means proud lust to tempt my pure desire?  
I in my Soul possess a better fire,  
A holier Spirit, a more cogent power,  
Which liberally God in my breast doth shower.  
The new turned Must, before it vent obtains,  
Strong groans ejects, as if oppressed with pains  
In the straight Vessel, wherein bridled long,  
The bands at last it bursts, and than too strong,  
The staves asunder rends, thence with uproar,  
As with light feathers, in free air doth soar.  
Thus with man's mind it is, now prove it lies  
Disheartened, than encouraged doth rise,  
So exercised, until the field it gains,  
And by God's hand firm victory obtains,  
Until immortal powers it can withstand,  
And as its self, so all the world command.  
Well, what remains? shall this persuade my mind,  
Because my Lady is to me inclined?  
Shall her mad love inflame me with delight?  
Or not much rather from such love affright?  
For, how detestable it is when wives  
Do cell themselves to lead lascivious lives?  
When with unbridled lust the upright mind,  
Themselves they tempt to deeds of brutish kind?  
Those Monsters with their eloquence impure,  
Prompted by lust, even men themselves allure;  
Assault the chaste, and that from them request,  
Which (though desired) should never be expressed.  
Aye me, how have these things afflicted me!  
From this vile woman I could ne'er be free:  
For when my Lord still absent was from home,  
I could not go where she'd not likewise come.  
Where than in lustful Rhetoric she dresses  
Her lawless love, or that by signs expresses,  
Such as her eyes can yield, or breasts exposed,  
When to Adultery she is most disposed.  
O with what art she sounds my tender mind,  
Whether or not it be as hers inclined!  
Sometimes my hand she kisses, than she woes  
With fervent looks, nor know I what she does.  
But who can love, nay, who will not detest  
That suit first vile, and than by them expressed  
Who should be wooed, and in whose breasts should devil,  
That modest grace which doth in them excel.  
'Tis monstrous if it does not, since we see  
Of this by nature they possessors be;  
And since a want hereof doth in the vile  
Constrain their love affrighted to recoil.  
The most lascivious of their lust yet gain  
Do make, and gold and lordly gifts obtain;  
But me this woman gives no rest at all,  
Her body prostitutes, and gifts withal.  
The profligatest wretch with lustful fires  
Although he burns in his depraved desires,  
Will yet pull in his flames at such a time  
When lustful wives do court him to that crime.  
Ah in my breast shan't I than horror feel,  
With her, who her Lords bed defiles, to deal?  
To have to do with her, who would constrain  
Me to submission to her lustful pain?  
Sure modesty is women's chiefest grace,  
A lowly eye, an humble bashful face,  
Even than that blushes with a conscious read,  
When, though of Marriage, aught to her is said.  
Nor do I think is any man more vile  
Than he who doth the Nuptial bed defile.  
So he his Neighbour's Heritage deceives,  
And stones unknown upon his building heaves.  
O thou luxurious flesh, shall now thy flame  
Deprive my Soul of its most peaceful frame,  
Of all its present ease, and sacred rest?  
O not, thy valency, lo, is suppressed,  
Thy fire extinct, thy chains shook of, and broke,  
Thy embers are now ashes, flames but smoke;  
Thy itch is cooled, nor hast thou power more;  
I'm now another creature than before.  
O hater of Heaven's rest, the Souls disease,  
Friend to luxurious pleasures, to base ease,  
To gormandizing lust, to deeds of night,  
To all excess of sensual delight,  
On me why fliest thou with thy big discourse?  
I am above thy menaces or force;  
In spite of thee henceforward thou shalt stand  
Devoted unto my more strong command.  
For vain shall be thy charms, and vain thy force;  
Choose either, thou in both shalt have the worse.  
To God I have my Soul in prayer desolv'd,  
Since which I found my mind far more resolved  
In holy ways; and now a covenant  
I with myself have made, not more to grant  
The lest compliance unto leprous sin,  
However formidably she steps in.  
First with my eyes this bargain I have made,  
That my heart by them should not be betrayed,  
Nor that they should a fatal glance convey  
Upon a woman in a lustful way.  
My curious ear I have severely charged,  
Not more attentively to be enlarged  
To soul-invading words; and to my hands,  
To keep from violence I have heaped commands.  
Than in my Soul this charge I have infused,  
Never by any means to be seduced.  
To lust in my desires bounds I have set,  
Jest they should fall within this woman's net.  
My rolling tongue 've threatened to take heed,  
That from it no licentious words proceed.  
And lastly, I a watch have set to keep  
My thoughts both waking and in dreams asleep.  
Well, now my Armour's on, wherewith I know  
All opposition I shall overthrew.  
My Helm is God's Salvation, Faith my shield,  
My Sword's his Word; and thus I take the field.  
Though now my Lady come, armed i'th' defence  
Of more encroaching or smooth Eloquence  
Than the most oily tongues of Whores yet knew,  
My yielding yet should not for this ensue.  
Although she now were here, and so to try  
My mind, or cloak her crime, should raise a cry,  
I would despise as well her love, as spite,  
And stand unmoved, or take a speedy flight.  
Although her curious limbs she now should show,  
Fair as the morning, white as new-fallen snow;  
Her Ivory breasts though she should open lay,  
And all her nakedness to me display;  
Though richest presents she should offer me,  
Wherewith the covetous beguiled be;  
I'd all alike despise, and be ware  
From falling by them in her fatal snare.  
If at my feet she fell, I would not fear,  
But soon if I could not step over her,  
I'd trample on her body, than with flight  
Make my escape, and get me out of sight.  
Or with her arm if she to force me stand,  
Should hold my cloak, I'd leave it in her hand,  
Than if she should eject a clamorous cry,  
If needs I must, than out of doors I'd fly.   
SEPHYRA. 
LO here I come again, now I shall see  
Whether thou art of men or beasts that be  
Sprung from obdurate rocks, now know shall I  
Whether or not thou from thy bliss wilt fly.  
Come than celestial Soul, beauty's renown,  
My hearts desire, my joy, my glories crown,  
My whole repose, my comfort, only rest,  
My love and pleasure wherein I am blest.  
Wisdom's residence, where best things resort,  
Breath of my sighs, and my lifes chief support,  
My flame's original, my bosom's key,  
Long who art wooed, yet can't entreated be:  
I warn thee by the favours thou didst found,  
From me, by my strong fires, by thy great mind,  
Yet humble soul, by my tormenting smart,  
By thy soft nature, by my wounded heart,  
By thy large gifts, by a distressed's prayer,  
By my desires, by thy surprising air,  
By my affliction, thy professed truth,  
Vouchsafe compassion on my tender youth;  
Pity these cheeks from whence their blush is fled,  
On which a flowing stream of tears are shed,  
And this sad mind  with heavy cheer,  
That bears thee only love and awful fear.  
Pity, I pray thee, my blood-drinking groans,  
My low estate, my heart-consuming moans,  
And some refreshment to a Lover give,  
Without thy favour that no hour can live.  
Help my distress, I can not longer be  
Delayed; my grave extends its jaws for me,  
My feet draw near to death: at last relent,  
Set free my captive Soul with sorrow spent.  
Thou seest my woe from my quick-rising tears,  
From blubbered cheeks, from looks all pale with fears.  
And thou may'st see my wounded heart now pant;  
But canst thou see these, yet no pity grant?  
O Boy, canst thou despise the conquering charms  
Of my fair body, of my naked arms?  
Canst thou refuse to mitigate my pain?  
But woe is me, my sighs are all in vain.  
I see I cannot thy fierce temper please.  
As like a rock amidst enraged Seas,  
Unmoved thou art. O unrelenting stone,  
I'm whether mild or fierce, to thee all one.  
But if't be so, I by Osiris swear,  
By the great Cat whom we a God revere,  
Nay by the Goat, the awful Crocodile,  
And by the seven streams of sacred Nile;  
By Iris, Seraphis, and what else more  
In Egypt we as powerful Gods adore;  
I swear by my own Soul, by Egypt's Head,  
Or thou art this day mine, or with the dead.  
Upon this day depends our end of strife,  
Or of my lust, or thy beloved life:  
Howe'er with me it goes, or I must flow  
This day in pleasures, or in torturing woe.  
Observe my words, without all doubt on thee  
I'll be revenged, or fraud shall lack in me.  
But wherefore rave I? Joseph can't deny,  
Not, 'tis my pulse he only first would try.  
He till the last contains his young desire.  
Wood that's yet green, will not at first take fire;  
But when that wood doth once receive the same,  
No piece so burneth with that solid flame.  
Well, is it this, my dear, thou dost contrive?  
Mu first my passions to excess arrive?  
O dally than not more; that minute's come,  
Which will denounce, before it ends, my doom.  
Thou therefore the necessity behold,  
Which in it so much danger doth enfold.  
This is the utmost push, the last assay,  
Which must conclude this so important day.  
Although a Monster sprung from woods you were,  
Fed with the Milk of Lioness or Bear;  
Although a Snake from craggy cliffs you came,  
Yet sure my sighs would thy fierce nature tame.  
Than come, nor more my tender touch deny.  Jos. 
Hold, think it not.  Seph. 
You must.  Jos. 
I'll rather dye.  Sep. 
Now  Joseph. Jo. 
Be ashamed.  Sep. 
Ah might I!  Jo. 
Still?  Seph. 
Prithee embrace me, Boy.  Jos. 
Who I? I will—  Seph. 
And yet thou shalt not go.  Jos. 
How than, I pray?  Seph. 
Here thou shalt tarry, I have more to say.  Jos. 
No Madam, 'tis enough, and all in vain.  Seph. 
But friend, I hold thee, I'll thy flight restrain.  Jos. 
d'ye sport?  Seph. 
Come here.  Jos. 
My mantle tears, let go.  Seph. 
Come here, I say.  Jos. 
No.  Seph. 
But I'll make thee Thou shalt, and love me too, ere I have done.  Jos. 
Since it must be, than take my cloak; I'm gone know  
To make my best escape.  Seph. 
This thou shalt rue.  
Jor, Zepho, Thinna, Goseling, all, all pursue  
The wretch, 'tis highest time; my name's the aim,  
I here endure unsufferable shame.  Jos. 
Good God, what impudence! how will this end?  Seph. 
Haste, haste, your Lady from a Rape defend;  
A traitorous villain, brought from Hebron's soil,  
Upon me runs, my body to defile.  
His violence ah quickly, quickly tame;  
The slave is full of lust, and voided of shame.   
JOSEPH. 
ME, what anointed fraud! Hark, hark, I hear  
Pursuing feet through all the house that bear  
Sure death. Ah woe is me, what purlue cries.  
Now shall this woman cloak her guile with lies,  
And make a sad complaint, me to accuse  
Of that which she against myself did use.  
The Cloak I left her, when from her I broke,  
Shall for her fraud no small advantage make.  
My God, what help? what safety than have I?  
Alas! I know not which way I shall fly.  
The changes of these lower things, behold,  
They but what's smoke and empty wind enfold,  
As like a Bubble now appearing fair,  
Which in a trice dissolves in humid air.  
Earth's greatest dignities and chiefest good  
Are like the flowing and the ebbing flood.  
In splendid honour I this day did swell,  
And now from thence am hurled as low as Hell.  
Though guiltless now a shameful fall I bear,  
Uncertain what must be my future share.  
Ah me, on what, on what shall I resolve?  
How in my breast shall I my case revolve?  
Shall I with base subjection, like a slave,  
Her guilt my guilt confess, and pardon crave?  
Sure not, If I till now have lust denied,  
In that good mind I'll to the end abide.  
How than? shall I unto the Court repair,  
And there unto my Lord the truth declare?  
O not, that house with happy peace that's blest,  
May not be grieved for my desired rest.  
Well, but what than? Shall I myself betake  
Within, and there to each relation make  
Of all that's passed? Nor that, 'tis not done well,  
The crimes of Ladies to their slaves to tell.  
What than? shall I the Country fly with speed?  
As guilty, fly? that were a shameful deed.  
'Tis better patiently the worst to bear;  
For flyers ever guilty we declare.  
Besides, when slaves presume to run away,  
For that they with their backs or necks must pay.  
What than shall I conclude? high time 'tis now:  
Resolve than this, my Soul, not hence to go.  
Than be it so; I'll wait here what may be  
By God's Decree selected out for me.  
To him I prayed, through him my fight renewed;  
With him stood firm, and by him lust subdued.  
From him the rest I'll wait, and laugh at shame.  
What should he fear, that trusts upon his Name?  
Now I return to give due thanks to thee,  
Great God, that from myself hast rescued me.  
Although vain beauty did assault my eyes,  
Thou helpedst me its witchcraft to despise.  
My feet from shameful fall preserved thou hast;  
My Soul from ruin when with lust oppressed.  
Be thine the praise; I'll in thy Name delight,  
So well who hast instructed me to fight  
In thy dear cause. Towards thee I aspire  
With longing Soul, thou end of my desire.  
Henceforward my endeavours I will bend  
In thy unspotted ways my days to spend.  
Than shall my ways be in thy eyes upright,  
When thou shalt aid me by thy Spirits might.    

The Concluding DAYRY-EMBLEM, Discovering the Mystery and Nature of this Religious Self-Conflict.  
 depiction of a woman working whilst hands from a cloud churn butter  
THis Churn behold without and inwardly,  
As with thy bodies, so the Spirits eye;  
And thus whilst thou reflectest on this thing,  
Instructing matter it to thee shall bring.  
Without 'tis still, within is uproar loud,  
Like hollow drums, exciting battle proud,  
When now two Armies in a Champain large,  
Each others force prepared stand to charge.  
The tumults cause is from two differing things,  
Each other charging with enforced flings,  
Within the Vessel. The insipid stream  
Flows in the fat amongst the thicker Cream.  
Hence the fray rises, where these each would smother;  
Now one gets uppermost, and than the other.  
The Creams now under, than the tasteless Whey,  
Holding in doubt whose the victorious day  
At length shall be; till after tedious fight,  
The well-wrought Cream doth by degrees unite;  
And now of hue become like tried gold,  
As in prevailing hands the Palm doth hold.  
But though it floats above, it must abide  
The dabbling of the Whey on every side.  
Until a higher hand doth down convey  
That wherewithal it bears it thence away.  
Than in pure water throughly cleanseth it,  
Preserves with salt, and into vessels fit  
Includes, and lastly crowns. Where this regard,  
Who overcomes so shall obtain reward.  
He who this discord 'twixt the Cream and Whey,  
With profit now desires to overly,  
By an approved Limbeck let him bring  
A noble matter from this trifling thing.  
The Vessel here is Man, therein the Broil  
Presents the War 'twixt thoughts both good and vile.  
The Creams the Spirit; Whey doth Lust intent.  
With restless spite each other these offend.  
Awake, dull Saint, learn what's within thy heart:  
The Spirit's not alone, nor th'flesh apart:  
Their powers are mixed, as together grown;  
Both in thee are as interwove in one.  
Much like the glimmering Dawn, that goes before  
The ruddy day, which doth man's cares restore,  
Discovering neither Darkness, nor yet Light,  
Not Day, not Night alone, but Day and Night.  
Or like refulgent White with Negro hue,  
Nor white nor black, but grey, betwixt the two.  
Or like cold streams, which when to boiling thrown,  
Is neither hot nor cold, but lukewarm grown.  
Well, lo, the war gins, it goes to blows.  
Each his All brings his Op'nent to oppose,  
Filled with fixed hate. The Flesh embattled draws  
Incorrigible youth, lust's 'nslaving Laws,  
Sports voided of bounds, and Deeds of guilty Night,  
As Drunkenness and all obscene delight.  
Base worldly pleasures Envy, and what's worse,  
Lies, treacherous Fraud, and filthy tongue discourse.  
The Spirit calmly comes, begirt with Prayer,  
With God's pure word with words that seasoned are,  
With penitence, Humility, true Love,  
Hope, conquering Faith and th'innocence o'th' dove.  
The Combat's not, where we may safely say,  
It seems that Flesh and Spirit now display  
Th'effects of fiercest hared, as if so  
They the Souls powers would straightway overthrow.  
Until at last the struggling Spirit's found,  
Though after many dangers, many a wound,  
Far more divinely beautiful and bright,  
And more puissant than before the fight:  
Yet not without all blemish; since the mind  
That yet possesses which to lusts inclined,  
Whereby in fight, since though it keeps the field,  
'Tis often compelled to secret lust to yield.  
Until the Lord his hand doth down convey,  
And him from Earth by Death doth take away,  
Translates into a Throne purges from dross,  
And glorifies, whereby he gains by loss.  
Thrice happy he, (this firmly let's believe)  
This Good who through God's Spirit doth perceive.  
Thrice blessed is that Soul, who in this night,  
This upright war upholds, maintains this fight.  
Immortal praise; a Crown of great regard,  
Prepared is for such a Souls reward,  
Yet of pure mercy; our best works are sin;  
What we enjoy doth from his grave begin,  
For his Son's sake: the Lamb for us once slain,  
Provides, that only they that Bliss shall gain,  
In whom the work of grace is found begun,  
And to whom God atoned is through the Son.  

Eternal Power, one God in Persons Three,  
Blest who art in thyself ' above things that be;  
Whence all things flow, with strength my mind possess,  
When Devil, World and Flesh my Soul oppress:  
Against these so instruct me to contend,  
That I may reach that glory in the end,  
Which for thy Saints in Heaven thou dost keep,  
Till in dark Graves their Flesh and Griefs shall sleep.    

Certain godly Divines have epitomised the Nature of the various inclinations of Man towards Good and Evil in this following Table, which I thought good here to insert.  
The INCLINATIONS 

1. Of the Carnal man, 

Evil. I do evil, and will do it.  
Good. I do not do good, and I will not do it.    
2. Of the Regenerate man, 

Evil. The evil I would not do, that do I  
Good. The good I would do, that do I not.    
3. Of the Glorified man, 

Evil. I do not evil, and I will not do it.  
Good. I do good, and I will do it.      
FINIS.