Youth's Tragedy, A POEM: Drawn up by way of Dialogue between Youth. The Devil. Wisdom. The Nuntius. Time. Death. The Soul. For the Caution, and Direction, of the Younger Sort. Ex Martiali. Frange toros, pete vina, rosas cape, tingere nardo, Ipse jubet mortis te meminisse Deus. Ex Homero. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 By T. S. Licenced and Entered according to Order. LONDON, Printed for Joh. Starkey at the Mitre in Fleetstreet, near Temple-Barr, and Francis Smith at the Castle and Elephant without Temple-Barr, 1671. The Speakers. YOuth. The Devil. Wisdom. The Nuntius. Time. Death. The Soul. Youth's Tragedy, A POEM Drawn up By way of Dialogue, for the Caution, and Direction of the younger sort. The Prologue. If thou art serious, then attend, and see, If not, yet stay, that thou may'st serious be. YOUTH. HOw pleasant is it, when the Sun displays, From Aries' Golden Fleece, his Golden Rays, How do the Creatures triumph for to see, Imprisoned NATURE, set at liberty. How doth the EARTH rejoice, that she is seen Clothed in a rich imbroid'red VEST of Green. FLORA now smiles, to see herself so fair, And comes abroad for to perfume the Air. The Heavens are pleasant, darksome Clouds do fly, And give a Prospect of an Azur'd Sky; The pretty winged Choir, from their sweet Throats, Fill every place, with their Melodious Notes. And what is YOUTH? but like another Spring, And therefore Young man, now rejoice, and sing, Discharge sad Thoughts, follow thy Recreation, Whilst that thy Blood hath a free circulation. Let Old BARZILLAIES now refuse the Court, Thy nimble parts, adapted are for sport, Let thy heart cheer thee, and now choose delight, According as thine Eye shall thee invite. The DEVIL and YOUTH. Devil. Bravely resolved, give up thy strength, and time, To please thyself, and all things shall be thine. Go view from SOUTHERN to the ARCTIC Pole, The glory over which the Heavens do role, And make thy choice, when done, put forth thy hand, And please thyself, it's all at thy command. RICHES shall at thy Feet full Bags fling down, And give a Golden Chain, and Scarlet Gown, HONOUR will quickly court thee, and shall set Upon thy Head, a Golden Corroner, PLEASURE shall strew thy paths with Fragrant Flowers, And Solace thee within her Shady Bowers; Only this word of Counsel, must thee guide, Trouble thy Head with nothing else beside, Youth. I'll take thy Counsel, CONSCIENCE now adieu, I see I shall have little need of you, I am resolved to suffer no control, But to pursue these things with all my SOUL. WISDOM and YOUTH. Wisdom. Pursue with all thy SOUL, nay fond YOUTH stand, And view the Lie, that's lodged in thy right hand, He that these great things to thee doth propose, Is free to promise what he can't dispose, Neither canst thou acquire, with all thy haste, Far lesser things, if GOD endeavours blast. But grant thou hadst what's promised, yet thy mind Instead of JOY, would but VEXATION find, Enlarged desires will keep thee from CONTENT, And what can't satisfy, will but TORMENT. But could the WORLD complete JOY to thee bring, Yet at the best, it's but a transient thing, These WORLDLY things which thou enjoyest to day, To morrow may make Wings, and fly away. Thy Soul's Immortal, look what doth agree Unto its NATURE, that must Satiate thee, There's naught but the great FOUNTAIN GOOD that will Suit with thy SOUL, and thy vast SPIRIT fill. Come then, and tread those Paths that will thee bring Unto the everlasting flowing SPRING Of pure, unmixed, intellectual JOYS, Why shouldst thou cheat thyself with empty TOYS. Youth. The way is Long, and Thorny, that doth lead Unto these JOYS, and those that do it tread, Water their Steps with Tears, and break their Rest With those sad Sighs and Groans which fill their Breast. WORMWOOD, and GALL, on each side of it grow, CROSSES, and JEERS, this dolorous way do strew, And all along this Path you may espy, Here scattered a right Hand, there a right Eye, Here a dear Lust, there a dead Comfort lies, By SELF-DENIAL, made a Sacrifice; And on the Hills do fired Beacons flame, Which round about, invading FOES proclaim: To whom I either must become a Prey, Or through their Hostile Troops must fight my way. Pardon me then, if that I do refuse, Such DOLEFUL WAYS of Trouble, for to choose. Wisdom. Though at the first, this WAY may seem to be A Thorny, Rough, Unpleasant Path to thee, Yet do but try it, what at first seems hard, Will easy prove unto thee afterward. For when thy heart, shall be enlarged with love, Unto those glorious things which are above; Then wilt thou run these Ways with great delight, For in them, there is strength to the upright. Let not those Tears affright thee, that are spent The future FLOODS of sorrow to prevent, No Wine so precious, as what doth arise, From the sweet springs, of penitential eyes, No frame like this, where comfort doth so thrive, For GOD the contrite spirit doth revive. Nor let it daunt thee, that thou must deny Thy YOUTHFUL LUSTS, and dear self MORTIFY, The blessed end is, that thou may'st DESTROY Those SUCCOURS, that would hinder thy true JOY, And whilst Thou Conflicts thus, and giv'st the FOIL Thou'lt sing with those that do divide the SPOIL. Let not the CROSS dismay thee; God will fit It to thy Back, or thy Back unto it. And what Affliction, he doth to thee measure, It's for thy profit, and not for his pleasure, That with more even steps thy SOUL may press, Forward unto its final happiness. Fear not to Fight, the Conquest shall be sure, To him that doth unto the End endure, For by a Hand of Strength, he shall be led Ipon the Necks, of all his FOES to tread. And on a THRONE of GLORY shall fit down With songs of PRAISE, and a triumphant CROWN. Call not these Paths then DOLESOM, YOUNGMAN cease, All WISDOMS WAYS, are PLEASANTNESS & PEACE. Whilst a good CONSCIENCE lodgeth in thy Breast, Thou needest not doubt of a continual Feast. Ask those that follow WISDOM, and they'll say, They feed on hidden MANNA in their way, By arts of FAITH, and LOVE, they now possess, That inward Sweetness, which they can't express. Strong CONSOLATIONS here do fill their CUP, Whilst with eternal LOVE their Souls do Sup. Youth. I understand not how these JOYS commence, YOUTH must have something that may please the sense; Therefore forbear until thou offerest that, Which may be suited to my present State. Wisdom. Fond YOUTH, thou knowst not what is true delight, It's not to please the sensual APPETIT, This will debase thy NATURE, and the FRVIT, Will be to lay thee level with the BRVITE. That which ennobles, and doth truly raise, Are VISIONS, of those BEAMS which GOD displays, From his sweet reconciled FACE, which make The SOLDIER of his blessed NATURE to partake. Youth. These are but darksome RIDDLES, canting STRAINS, Fitted to suit with MELANCHOLY Veins; What canst thou offer now unto my EYE, That will the GLORY of this WORLD outvie. Wisdom. Whilst thou a darksome RIDDLE this dost call, Thou showest thy woeful Darkness since the fall, For though an instinct still remains to BLISS, Yet wantest Light to guide thee where it is. But will the good things of this world content? Then view what WISDOM doth of this present: HONOUR and RICHES her left hand enfolds, And in her right hand length of days she holds; Which she gives forth to them that do her love, So far as they may real blessings prove: If what thou hast be mixed with a curse, It will prove to thee VANITY, nay, worse. That hand of Mercy that gives forth the Treasure, To make it Mercy, must give forth the Measure; That hand must guide thee how it must be used, MERCIES prove JUDGEMENTS when they are abused. Take all thy good things then from WISDOMS hand, And use those good things as she doth command. Youth. Lady, excuse me till another day, There's time enough hereafter for this way; Let me my youthful days please in their choice, And then I'll pomise to obey thy VOICE; When AGE hath quenched within, this lustful fire, And shall in private weary limbs retire; This will a season be to bend my mind, Unto those ways where I may WISDOM find. Wisd. Vain YOUTH, vain YOUTH, hereafter is not thine, He that hath now no heart, may have no time. That Captain which to day doth terms afford, May storm to morrow, and put all to''th' Sword; And he that this day will not spread his sail, To morrow, if he would, may find no gale: Or he that gives Grace to the penitent, May not REPENTANCE give toth' negligent. But wilt thou in old AGE these ways embrace? Are weary limbs fit for to run a race? And when the day is ready to shut in, Is that a time this Great work to begin? Shall SATAN be presented with the prime, And WISDOM only have the Dregs of Time? In depth of Winter, when the Heavens are spread With a black Veil, and all lights darkened; When Clouds do thick return after the rain, And their repeated showers pour down amain; When that Tempestuous STORMS beat round about, Is this the only Season to set out? Surely, if serious, this thou wilt not say, Why is it then, vain YOUTH, thou wouldst delay? Oh that there were within thee once a heart, From all the ways of FOLLY to departed. Those gaudy things with which she takes thine eye, Thou wilt be sure to find but VANITY. Youth. The WISE MAN, though he said so, yet would try Before he did believe it; so will I. Wisd. But having tried it, he hath fixed a Buoy, That others might not here themselves destroy. His own EXPERIENCE he hangs out for light, That thou may'st see to steer thy way aright; He sets a mark upon this dangerous shoal, That upon it thou mightst not wrack thy Soul. By Cautions, Warnings, Tears, and sad Remorse, He shows the Hazard of this woeful course. If after all this, when that thou hast seen Those tops of MASTS where sad shipwreck hath been, Yet thou wilt venture foolishly to stray, Though he was spared, thou may'st be cast away. But shouldst thou spared be, it hard would prove, Fast rooted habits ever to remove: For like the Leopard's spots, and NEGRO'S skin, So Custom proveth in a way of sin. Youth. Well, trouble me no more, I must fulfil Those strong propensions that are in my Will. Wisdom. And wilt thou rush, vain YOUTH, without all fear, Like to the Horse, upon the charged Spear? Is Life a Trifle? Is a Future state Not worth the caring for? and wilt thou hate Thy precious, SOUL? wilt thou inhuman be Unto thyself? oh, wretched CRUELTY! Wilt thou the way of FOLLY now pursue, And turn thy back on WISDOM? then adieu. But let me tell thee, that another day Her path thou'lt find, like the Strange WOMAN'S way, Who cometh forth with Smiles, in rich attire, And with her kisses YOUTHFUL LUST doth fire, In her curled Tresses LETHAL NETS do lie, And from her Eyelids killing Darts do fly, Between her breasts surprising SNARES abide, Under her Beauty Deadly VIPERS hid. With honey strains her subtle lips doth court The SIMPLE one, to her destructive sport; With speeches smother than the finest OIL, She doth betray into her fatal TOYL. By wanton, amorous glances, she allures, And with embracing arms her prey secures. Thus by her flattering ways the Captive's led, Without all fear, to her perfumed bed; Not thinking that her woeful Guests do dwell Within DEATH'S chambers, and the vaults of HELL. But when a stranger's filled with his wealth, And when he hath consumed all his health, When that his HONOUR, and his LABOUR lies Within her House, a slaughtered SACRIFICE, When ROTTENNESS enters into his bones, And fills his flesh with pain, his breast with groans; How doth he deeply now reflect upon Those years, he gave unto the cruel one! How doth he find that burning COALS he placed Within his bosom, whilst he her embraced! How doth he now from his EXPERIENCE cry, He like a Bird, unto the SNARE did fly! And whilst unto her way his steps he bend, He, like an OX unto the slaughter went; And that same pleasure which he did so like, Now, as a dart, doth through his Liver strike. This is the way of FOLLY, this the end, Her Feet to DEATH, her steps to HELL do tend. Like to those streams which through green Meadows glide, Till in the Dead Sea they at last do slide; So runs her Course, through PLEASURE though it take, It ends in JUDGEMENT, and a fiery LAKE. YOUNG MAN, farewell, oh, mind thy future state, Take Counsel now, before it be too late. Oh now remember those invited GUESTS, That being called slighted the Marriage Feast: But for so great contempt did dearly pay, Where MERCY could not gain, there WRATH did slay. YOUTH. What strange Impressions do my Spirits feel? How do my former Resolutions reel? What strange CONWLSIONS seize upon my Mind? What inward quick DISTORTIONS do I find, How do my Thoughts press forth on every side, And in two great BATTALIAS do divide; Assaulting each the other with great Force, Sometimes LUST gaining Ground, sometimes REMORSE: With armed troops, the SENSUAL APPETITE Doth beat down all before it in the Fight, Till CONSCIENCE, with fresh succours doth oppose, And, by strong hand, her Forces overthrows. AFFECTIONS see it, and do haste to bring Relief and Succour to the broken WING: And so with furious rage, they down do fell All that their fierce Impressions would repel; The WILL well backed with the chiefest flower Or Veteran Soldiers, with a mighty power Doth on the Gross of the Battalia fall, And questions not but for to carry all. And now the JUDGEMENT with its utmost might Makes strong resistance, and prevents a flight; And with brave Courage, and repeated blows, Represseth the great fury of her Foes. And whilst they thus engage with Warlike hands, VICTORIA now between them doubtful stands. This is the War that gives my Mind no rest, My JUDGEMENT tells me WISDOM'S ways are best: My CONSCIENCE checks me, that I don't obey, And shows the danger, if I do delay. My WILL, and my AFFECTIONS do oppose, And would with Sensual Pleasure have me close: Thus in sad Fears and Cares my thoughts do roll, Whilst that I have these workings in my Soul. What I shall do, I know not, this I find, That strong CONVICTIONS do assault my Mind. The DEVIL, YOUTH, and the NUNCIUS. Devil. YOUTH, What's the matter, wilt thou quit the field, And to a Melancholy Fancy yield? Wilt thou expose thyself to taunting JEERS, Whilst thus thou loadest thy breast with needless fears? Go fill thy hand, and head with those affairs, That this WORLD calls for, and so choke these cares: Or take thy Pastime at some pleasant Play, And with those strains of Wit drive FEAR away: With Scenes and Objects go and feast thine EYES, And feed thy LUSTS with great Varieties. Or, to thy old Companions strait resort, And so divert thyself with YOUTHFUL SPORT. Go pierce the choicest Liquors, and drink down Full draughts thereof, till thou these TROUBLES drown: Or join thyself unto the Jovial Blades, Who hunt forth Pleasure, in their Maskarades. Let those Cross-workings that thy Soul doth meet, Be prostrate laid at some fair LADY'S feet. Why should thy Day be stained with a Cloud, And all thy Comforts under Darkness shroud? Nunc. The YOUNG MAN yields, this Counsel he obeys And in the paths of FOLLY now he strays, And whilst in PLEASURE he his SOUL doth drench, All his CONVICTIONS he at last doth quench: And so his Heart grows hard, his CONSCIENCE seared, And now he mocks at that which once he feared; From frequent ACTS, he comes for to Devise That against which, at first, his heart did rise. (He that will venture on a way of sin, Many a dreadful step may take therein,) His Time it is but short, for you may see In the next Scene his sad CATASTROPHE. YOUTH. Youth. How do I now in Pleasure's bosom rest, Whilst Checks and Fears are banished from my breast! Those MENACES that on my THOUGHTS did throng, I have repulsed, the threatened man lives long; Is not this better than to whine away, With pensive, puling MOPES, my pleasant day? How joyful is it now unto my sight, To see myself adrift in all delight? And as this is a day of mirth to me, So shall to morrow more abundant be. NUNCIUS. Nun. Like to the Post that swiftly passeth by, Or like the SLAVE that doth from bondage fly, Or like a nimble Ship, that with full sail Doth run her course before a prosperous gale: Or as the Eagle that her Prey espies, Like Lightning, with swift wings unto it flies; So TIME now speeds, to let the YOUNG MAN know That all his way and walks are a vain show. TIME and YOUTH. Time. With winged swiftness I do hither fly, To let thee know thy fatal end draws nigh. Like to the Grass, or like the fading Flower, So withereth all thy Glory in an hour; Too late EXPERIENCE now must teach thee this, Thy life a SHADOW, and a VAPOUR is. I shall no more turn thy neglected Glass, A few sands only now remain to pass; My whetted Sith comes next for to be used, To let thee know, TIME will not be abused. Youth. My aged Father, turn thy Sith away, Cut down the ripened Ears, let green ones stay; Go where the Fields are white, whose stalks do bend, Under their burden, and there put an end Unto those pressures, but withhold thy hand From the green Blades, let immature ones stand. I am too young yet for the Sith of TIME, Come when my Locks shall be as white as thine. Time. Forbear, fond YOUTH, TIME's not at thy command, The tender bud oft feeels my cropping hand; Hast thou not often read Elegiac Verse, Composed to celebrate a VIRGIN Hearse? Hast thou not seen the Mother, with wet eyes, Sprinkle the dust wherein her Young Son lies; How oft hath DEATH white Trophies, to declare, Those he leads captive forth, they young ones are? I know where lies my Work, advice pray spare, Where I should reap, and where I should forbear, I count thy SANDS, and when the last I see Fly to its heap, thou'rt ripe enough for me: TIME will not stay, look here, thy Glass is broke, And now comes Death to give the Fatal stroke. DEATH, NUNCIUS, and YOUTH. Death. YOUTH, come away, for thou must with me go To the dark REGIONS that do lie below; Come, this same hand must seize upon thy breath, And lead thee down into the shades of DEATH. Here is no dwelling for thee, but thou must Take up thy lodging with me in the Dust; And in thick Darkness make thy dismal bed, Whilst crawling WORMS under thy head are spread; The pleasant light no more thine Eyes shall see, But with CORRUPTION thou must covered be. Those thoughts that are gone forth for to purvey To Feast thy LUSTS, in this thy yonthful day; And all those pleasing Hopes thou didst so cherish, Of long continued Bliss, must this day perish. Nun. Whilst that the YOUTH the King of TERRORS views His trembling limbs a cold sweat all bedews, His Pulse beats quick, his ghastly Face looks pale, His spirits sink, and his stout heart doth fail; As when Defendants from out works are beat, They to their main strength make a swift retreat, That, by united Force, they may oppose The fierce attempts of their approaching Foes; So to the Heart, his scattered Forces flow, That there they may keep off the fatal blow; But when this will not do, a parley's beat, And now his Enemy he gins to treat. Youth. Oh DEATH, forbear me, but a little while, Until my Vessel I provide with Oil, I am not yet prepared with a Light To comfort me in this same dismal Night. Let not my Feet on the dark MOUNTAINS fall For lack of Light to guide my steps withal. Oh, let my naked SOUL put on her VEST, Why should I far like the unwelcome Guest, In stormy weather, pull not down my Tent Before I have a better Tenement? Oh let me stay, that I may make a FRIEND, For to receive me, at my JOURNEY'S end. Oh let me truly LIVE, before I DYE, I want Provision for ETERNITY. Devil. Vain YOUTH, already thou hast had thy Day, But GRACE. was slighted, TIME was sinned away. Can nothing waken but the MIDNIGHT Cry For to provide, when 'tis too late to buy? Is it a time thy NAKED SOUL to dress, When that the KING is come to view his GVESS? Hast thou a Habitation still neglected, Until the hour thou comest to be ejected? When thou art Harbourless, and Storms begin, Hast thou a Friend to seek to take thee in? Ah, careless SOUL! how woeful is thy state, That knowst not how to want, or I to wait! Come, come away, I am not sent to treat, But for to bring thee to the JUDGEMENT SEAT. Youth. How shall I now appear be o'er that FACE That rends the ROCKS, and MOUNTAINS doth displace; That melts the HILLS, and makes the EARTH to quake; That flings down STARS, and doth the HEAVENS shake; That makes those vast EXPANSIONS for to roll, And shrink themselves together, like a scroul? How shall I stand before that dreadful THRONE, From whence bright Lightnings & great Thundrings come? Who can abide the Fierceness of his Ire, Whose Indignation's poured out like Fire? Nun. But go he must; Death pierced his tender side, And in his Heart blood his bright Dart he died. Out flies the trembling SOUL, a Guard doth hale It to that Court admitteth of no Bail. Her Mittimus is drawn, she's sent away, To lie in Prison till the JUDGEMENT Day. Let's lay our ears unto the Doleful Pit, And hearken there what doth become of it. THe SOLDIER and the DEVIL. Soul. Deceitful Devil, Wilt thou now torment That SOUL, thou lately flatt'redst with Content? Are all those Promises thou mad'st of Bliss, And future Glory; are they come to this? Devil. My Promises, vain SOUL, they were mistake, I used them but as Baits to hid my Hook; My end's accomplished, I the prey have caught, And now I'll use thee as my CAPTIVES ought; With Chains of Darkness I must bind thee fast, And in these FLAMES of WRATH I must thee cast. Soul. O wretched SOUL! how hast thou lost that place Where SAINTS and ANGELS do behold the FACE Of Everlasting GLORY, and do sing Eternal HALLELVIAHS to their KING. Upon whose Heads are Crowns of GLORY worn, And by whose hands Triumphant PALMS are borne: Who in the Bosom of dear LOVE do rest, And on the purest JOYS for ever feast; Whilst with the DAMNED SPIRITS I do make My habitation in this FIERY LAKE; The Flaming PILE whereof is kindled by The Breath of that incensed MAJESTY, Which like a stream of Brimstone, where it runs, All things before it into FIRE turns. Oh dismal place! where Volleys of Outcries, And hideous Howl like to Thunder flies: The horrid noise, and dreadful shrieks that came From the PHILISTINES, when that massy Frame, Bereft of both its Pillars, down did fall, And into Death and Ruin crushed them all; The frightful Roar, and the woeful Cries, Which SODOM sent unto the Angry Skies, Whilst on their wicked heads they forth did pour (Of Fire and Brimstone) a consuming shows; Are instances too short for to declare Those Wail that among the DAMNED are. Oh Woeful State! their TORMENTS who can tell, That with Devouring Fire for ever dwell? The Wracking Wheel, on which the Bones are broke, By a most gradual and deliberate stroke; The Fiery Pinchers, which deep Wounds do tear, That scalding SULPHUR may be poured there; The Stripes of SCORPIONS, that long Furrows make, With cutting SAWS that through the MARROW rake: The Stings of DRAGONS, and the rending Claws Of ravenous LIONS, for their hungry Jaws; The CAULDRONS that with Plumbean liquor boil, The GRIDIR'NS whereon living Flesh doth broyl; With thousands of like TORTURES, do not bear Proportion to the TORMENTS that are here: And yet this is the Portion of my Soul, Which now is like that dreadful, bitter Roul, Filled full with Lamentations, Mournings, Woes, And floods of Wrath, which from Dire Vengeance flows. Horrid reflections likewise do I find, Adding great Anguish to my Tortured Mind, Whilst I consider, that for empty Toys, I have for ever lost substantial JOYS; And whilst I think how oft I have rejected That Counsel which to Peace my steps directed; How oft I have extinguished that same light Which CONSCIENCE brought to guide my feet aright; How all my precious TIME I vainly spent, And now no TIME is left for to Repent: This like a dreadful WORM doth ever gnaw Upon my VITALS with insatiate MAW. Oh now that Death, which late my heartstrings broke, Would come and ease me by a deeper stroke! Oh, how I would as a sweet Cordial, rate That blow which should this SOUL Annihilate! If such a wish but granted I might have, I would account that hand that killed, did save. Oh, this would Mercy prove, but none remains, Not the least drop to cool me in these FLAMES. I now must Dying live, and Living die, Scorched in these FLAMES to all Eternity. The EPILOGUE. The end is Endless, he that will not take Example now, shall an Example make. FINIS.