THE HISTORY OF IOSEPH. A POEM

Written by DANIEL CUDMORE, Gent.

Say not, my hand this work to end hath brought,
Nor this my vertue hath attained to:
Say rather thus, this God by me hath wrought;
God's th' Authour of the little good I do.
Du Bart. in Quadrians of Pabr.

LONDON, Printed by T. Warren for the use of the Author, 1652.

To his much respected Vncle Mr. ZACHARY CUDMORE all health and happiness.

SIR,

PRomises are due debt; you were pleased not long since, so far to encourage my en­devours as to claim this Poem; which I (having nothing which I might truly ar­rogate to my self, but you might justly challenge yours, as purchas'd by your fa­vours) thankfully promised; and now at length, like Pharaohs Butler, on the consideration of your manifold Curtesies, being check'd to a remembrance of my promise, humbly tender, and with it (like the poor Spa­niard, who when a Father of the Inquisition desired but the Fruit, presented him the Tree) present my self; ac­cept this with the like candour of mind, as I devote it with it really, and I shall esteem my hopes anchor'd in a happy Bay. If any upbraid me, being a Poet, with the fatall name of a begger, I answer with the sweet Singer of Isra­el Adhuc & vilior fiam, so I may but herein do God the least service, and so render my self gracious to your ac­ceptance; nor doubt I but time may so midwife it, that here­after I may tender some thing which may (if not redeem some of my engagements) yet induce your courtesie to forbear the debts wherein stands obliged

Your observant Nephew, DAN. CUD.

To the Reader.

Courteous Reader,

I Here present thee with the History of Joseph, which as I could seldome pass over without tears, so I could not but digest them into matter through the Lymbeck of my Quill, though into such a form as my mose easie Genius lead me; 'tis a subject, I confess, which seems to claim both a more elaborate Brain, and a more accu­rate Pen than mine, yet shall I neither esteem my labour lost, nor my time ill-bestow'd, if I may herein prove but the Foyl of those who have writ more gravely on the same matter, that in my weakness may the more clearly appear their worth. If thou object, that in the p [...]ssage between Joseph and his wanton Mistris, I have rendred my self. Pathick than Pathetick, I may answer first, that I have described her Passion in as grave a Wantonnest as the tenour of her broad expressions would permit; Secondly, for the frequency of it, the Text tells me that it was her daily practice; Thirdly, I have an example from Solomon him­self, who, (doubtless guided by Gods Spirit) sets forth a Harlot thus in her courteous vanities; In the last place, I hope His modest answers which struck, for the present, the impatient opponent dumb, will take off a judicious censure from reply. What I here present thee, is mine own, what thou hast here is no Crambes bis cocta, no Page, furtivis ornata colori­bus, nor can my fancy upbraid my Pen, as 'tis to be fear'd, God will one day our new compounded fashions, Hoc non est opus meum, imago mea.

Farewell.

The history of Joseph,

The Proem.
I Sing of Joseph's fate, our Saviour's type,
Then heaven bee auspicious to my pipe;
What though my fancie's dull, my stile's unfil'd,
My Pia-mater be an infant-child,
This be a task for Angells, each whose page
(If fully peraphras'd,) would crave an age?
Each Angel is my muse, Sion the hill
Whose sacred raptures shall intrance my quill;
And if divine Apollo tune my harp,
Let Zoilus censure, and let Momus carp.
Then, where the Dove-like Spirit daignes us matter,
Let Owles forbear to screech, and Pies to chatter.
Here is a story, each whose circumstance
Is to b'ascrib'd to providence not chance,
Compar'd to this all humane eloquence
Doth scarce deserve the bounteous name of sense.
Here is a story, whose sublime invention
So farr transcends mans reach, and weak dimension,
A story here, whose fancie's towring hight
Doth soar so high beyond our dull conceit
All wits should here their conquer'd lawrels bring,
Their Helicons are puddles to this spring.
Then sacred Three in One, who in this story
Didst from mans wickedness procure thee glory,
O let my weaknesse tun'd in slender layes
Advance thy honour, and promote thy praise;
Then I'll invoke no Heliconian dame,
If thou but rarifie the smoakie flame
That actuates my fancy, and but drain
From 'its polluted dreggs my youthfull brain.
My pen thus dipt in the true Thespian stream,
Thus do I prosecute my sacred theam.
THE heav'nly register of sacred truth
Records old Jacobs age, blest with a youth
Joseph by name; whose vertue from the rest
Had won the chiefest room in Jacobs brest.
Th' equall proportion of both face, and limb
(Requir'd in outward beauty) was in him,
So here, was that more noble Symnetry
A heav'nly heart, the rarer harmony:
For though no Architect will ever choose
The stately marble but to noble use,
And in a palace what a stately, guest
Is entertain'd, may by the pomp be ghest,
Beautie's oft Bawd to vice, a heav'nly fiend,
Sin oft abounds where beauty doth transcend;
Whose Angells image, as it oft appears,
The superscription of the Devill bears.
Our Joseph's lovely visage some that viewd
Thought Adams native beauty here renewd;
His spotlesse innocence by others was
Compar'd to Adam in his state of grace;
For he must most be void of all offence
Who was the perfect'st type of innocence.
God who in mercy did to Abraham swear
That he should vie a child with ev'ry star,
Here of his promise as the Interest
Fixt Joseph as a star to guide the rest.
Fixt star? nay rather planet, since his fate
Was to be exil'd by his Brethrens hate.
Time now had writ old age on Jacobs skull,
And long since chang'd his down to rougher wooll,
When faint disease did on his members creep
Hee to his sons resign'd his charge of sheep;
Joseph was always at his fathers beck,
Each frown, a wound did seem, a death each check,
And who but wondring saw that he should bring
So full an harvest in his youthfull spring?
Which much in Jacobs thoughts did him promote,
Who clad him in a parti-colour'd coat;
His Brethren see'ng their Father so inclin'd
At his indulgence proudly thus repin'd.
He's Jacobs seed elixard, we the dreggs,
Base chicken we, born of unhappy eggs,
Quoth one, we to no other end are born
But t'wear out wooll or to consume the corn,
Joseph the white hens chick, he, Fortunes minion;
His childish face hath purchas'd this opinion,
Yet is no more like to my lad (God knows)
Than is you cowslip to a verdant rose,
A Kid t'a Lamb, my Ewe to yonder Goat,
Yet he's invested in a gawdy coat.
Now since disease, which still attends on age,
Confin'd had Jacob to an Hermitage,
And he whose discipline was wont to awe
His sons, and give unto their deeds a law,
The Sunshine of whose presence would disperse
Such vapours, vice could here have no commerce,
Declining was, no wonder there appears
If pitchie vapours now did blot the sphears,
Which Joseph knew, when he in humble sort
Vnto his father brought their ill report,
Yet not in base revenge, and ranc'rous spleen,
As is in some maligning Brethren seen,
Who strive to raise the Trophies of their name,
And Triumph, on the Tombes of others shame,
Or some, as if their envie were so nice
To wound the Person, and to spare the Vice:
But Joseph's heart with Zealous sorrow bleeds
While to his father he rehea [...]st their deeds.
Nay, further thus, he did exasperate
His Brethrens spleen, and mov'd their sweiling hate;
Quoth he Dear Brethren, not a foggy stream
From a distemper'd liver, no vain theam,
Ingrost my fancie, when thus (by your leaves)
I dreampt, you and my self were binding sheaves,
My sheaf (me thought) rose up; all your's, in signe
Of duty, did obeysance unto mine.
His Brethren start and check him, how so plain?
And must thou thus become our King, and raign?
True; in your robes your Majestie's impall'd,
Oh how we long to see your grace install'd?
A scepter for him, no, thou sawcy swain,
A Rod to whip thee to thy wits again.
Nay further, harmlesse Joseph did incur
Their hate, which needed not a second spur;
Brethren quoth he, No aim to disinherit
You of your Birth-right; 'tis no private Spirit;
My head like th' highest region of the air
From all such Meteors is pure and fair,
I dream'd the Sun and Mo [...] did with a troop
Of'leven starrs, unto mee humbly stoop.
No sooner spoke, but all his Brethren rouz,
One stamps and fumes, another frownes and vowes,
Must Father, Mother, and we all eleven
Submit to thee! how long since cam'st from heaven?
When is your Majestie's inauguration,
King of your country, Father of your nation?
These Temples are too stately to be bound
With rosie Chaplets, no, they must be crown'd;
These armes of late too massie grown to weigh
The worthlesse sheephook, must a scepter sway.
Joseph takes all with an unfurrow'd brow,
And mildly crowcheth with a lowly bow,
Anon unto his Father tells again
The heav'nly dreams of his inspired brain;
Who though his son was yet in years but green,
It fills him more with wonder than with spleen;
Quoth he Thine and thy Brothers purity
Spark like a constellation in my skie;
In whom Vice ne'r could get a patronage,
Free from the sins that do ingross this age,
But that I with the rest shall prostitute
Submissively to thee I yet dispute;
This in the Brethren had ill blood begotten,
Which by hot rage was soon to rancour rotten,
And yet no opportunity had been,
That they might vomit their impostum'd spleen.
Time was when youthfull Joseph's Brethren fed
Their fleecy charge on Shechems flow'ry bed,
Anon-their wanton Lambkins further rov'd,
And they with them to Dothan next remov'd,
When Jacob calling Joseph to his tent
With such like words him to his Brethren sent;
Run, and make hast again, my darling son,
On whose lifes thread, that, of my life is spun;
I through whose Organs breath my life, and whose
Eys if long absent, mine would quickly close;
These apples in thy cheek, my pretty page,
Are th' onely food that do sustain my age;
Thou knowst in Shechem now thy Brethren are,
Run, and bring how they and their flocks do fare.
Obedience, wing'd with loyalty now posts
With nimble speed to Shechems past'rall coasts,
And finding not his Brethren there, he wanders
In crooked by-paths, mazes and Meanders,
Thus roved he perplex'd, till found by one,
Who told him they to Dothan late were gone;
Thither he bends, and might anon behold
His Brethren, and their flocks, as late was told.
One of his Brethren seeing him, in hast
Cryes yonder commeth our Enthusiast,
All with consent giv'd way to headstrong fury,
Sans the convention of the sacred Jury
Of reason love and faith, Joseph must die,
Grim death shall cast him in a Lethargy.
Then when he wakes let him with dreams out-brave
Our thoughts, thus slain let's cast him in some Cave.
This said thus starts up Reuben, Heav'n forbid
We should be guilty all of fratricide,
Forbear, the milder Citizens of th' wood
Upon each tree will carve this theam of blood,
Forbear, the Fish will lose their being mute,
Each Bird 'gainst murther quaintly will dispute;
Forbear, our Lambs with bleating Oratory
When they come home will tell of Josephs story,
Our Heards miscarry, and each pregnant Ew
Enix abortive Lamb-kins at the view;
Forbear, the raging winds will burst their lungs
And in articulate tones pronounce his wrongs.
O be not taught by self-experience,
Consider Cains just curse for this offence;
And since God is the same, can we expect
But like proceedings should have like effect?
Yet if your charity cannot forgive,
Then let humanity grant that he live;
Into the pit let's cast the silly Swain,
So spoke, that he might set him free again.
This said, our nimble youth with active pace
Where they consulted had attaind the place;
All rush on him God save our Soveraign sheaf,
Nay prethee speak not, resolution's deaf;
Do'st blush? wee'l empty all these veins of blood
As clean as is thy soul from grace and good;
This is the coat, this that Majestick sute,
To which we all must humbly prostitute,
A coat of Sack-cloth for to expiate
Thy sin, and to appease deserved hate,
Far better would become thee, thou shalt die,
Pale death shall cloath thee in her livery;
What, not a word unless you wear a Crown?
Pray knit your brows, wee'l tremble at your frown;
I prethee weep; I prethee sigh, my Boy,
That we may dance, that we may sing for joy;
Let's place him on yon-hillock, for a throne,
Then to his Majestie wee'll all fall proue;
Come, come, strip off this coat, and next prepare
For to uncloath thy soul; why dost thou stare?
Rapt in some strange Enthusiasm we know;
Death, quoth another, shall intrance him now.
At this our youth grew pale, his blood retreats,
And to his heart a fierce alarum beats,
Knees bended, hands expans'd, erected eye,
All silent Rhet'rick of humility,
Got nought but this, We will without remorse,
Of soul and body make a quick divorce,
Like poor Absyrtus by his Sister slain,
Or wretched Itis so he beg'd in vain;
Quoth he, I doe not use this bootless strife,
For to obtain that worthless name of life,
I fear not death; yet Brethren, pittie take
If not for mine, yet for my Fathers sake;
Since ther's a God, to Heaven I appeal,
If I you hate, may not the stones conceal
But give me strait the lie, my soul is white,
Black guilt on her ne'r could such trespass write;
If that it could then I would never grudge,
Nay should my self-condemn were I my Judge;
Had I deserv'd death I'd yeeld to dye,
Justice should swill untill my veins were dry.
Oh how his pittie-pleading eyes would view
Now sadly one, then to another sue!
Then to their unrelenting Brests would fly,
Clasping their necks, Sweet Brethren pitty me.
The true imagination of his pains
Doth make my blood carcer within my veins;
When I think on't my passion is so wild,
I start, and cry as present, Save the child.
My fingers fayl and in perplex'd demurs
Instead of words my pen indenteth blurs;
My heart doth quake my joints are all benum'd,
My trembling tongue unto my jaws is gum'd:
Yet not for him alone, but for my Saviour
Of whom he was the type, with worse behaviour
They used him of old, let every age
At once present their Scenes upon one Stage,
And all the miseries in History
Coucht in most tragick prodigality,
And in most gorgeous rhetorick exprest,
Yet his but in their naked colours drest
Would shew most gaudy, such as would inforce
Ev'n Pagans unto mourning and remorse.
Anon our Brethren did deliberate,
Not to extenuate but defer their hate,
Till all the horrour of their wittiest rage
Might wait on death in horrid equipage.
Mean while of Reubens counsell they admit,
And (void of mercy) cast him in the pit;
Where if they meant him meat for Wolves or Bears,
Or in the empty pit to drown in tears,
Or left him there a prey to greedy famine,
The text is silent, nor may I examine.
Mild Reuben joyfull that by this perswasion
He stopt their fury, thought by this evasion
When the dark night might, with his care conspire,
To free young Joseph from his Brethrensire,
Wherefore he cri'd I'm void from this offence.
Bear witnesse heaven of my Innocence,
Now when they had left Joseph, and were dining,
And in a bloody synod were combining,
They lifted up their eies, and might discern
A company, which they anon might learn
Were Midianites, whose trade was merchandice,
As Gilead Balm, gum, mirrh, and fragrant spice,
For Egypt on their bunch-back'd Camels bound,
Which seen, thus Judah riseth from the ground;
Brethren, quoth he, the blood in Josephs veines
The self same tincture with our own retaines,
And from the self-same chanell it derives
As we do that which actuates our lives,
He is our flesh, let not his blood be spilt
(Since murther cann't be hid) lest that the guilt
On us and our posterity intail
A curse, from death let forefight be his bayl;
Come then, let's sell him to yon merchant-crew,
And then see what will of his dreams ensue;
The Brethren all assent to this advice,
And one is sent to barter for the price.
Quoth he, Good sirs we have in yonder cave
A smooth-fac'd lad, whom you may buy your slave,
Whom we would sell at reasonable price
Of gold, or silver, mirth, sweet balm, or spice:
Mean while our youth (blessing their cruelty
That yet where God sate thron'd he saw the skie)
Thus prayd, Great God of Angels, and of Man,
Who metest out yon heavens with the span,
Who stretch'st them like a curtain, and canst roll
Them up together like a Parchment scroll,
I've not deserv'd this at my Brethrens hands,
Yet greater, by transgressing thy commands,
And since thou by the hate, dost me reprove,
Of those, of whom I most did hope for love,
'Tis just, 'gainst thee I oft commit offence,
Who most of me expectedst reverence:
Yet if I by my Brethren yeeld my breath,
O pardon me, and pardon them my death.
No sooner had he voyc'd this prayer, when
His furious Brethren had approacht the den,
Whence having took him up by tackled cords,
Who look'd for nought but death, they use these words,
Look you, quoth one, look yonder are thy masters,
Wee'll give thee time to weep at thy disasters;
Forsake thy native for a forreign land,
Where this fair skin shall be Sun-parch'd and tand;
Prepare these dainty limbs t'endure the gripes
Of hardest labour, and these sides for stripes;
Prepare this dainty palate to be parch'd
With thirst, this stomach to be hunger-search'd.
Quoth Joseph, if you will not pitty take
For mine, nor Jacobs, then for heavens sake
Here let me starve, here let me dig my grave
Within this pit, O sell me not a slave.
I'd weep such characters, my tears should trace
Such Water-works upon my blubberd face,
Whose intricate Meanders should out-vie
Trajans or Bushells in Hydrography.
His mones no more appease their raging minds
Than can a Sea-mans whistle still the winds;
But him for twenty silver pieces sell,
And with a scornfull look they bid farewell.
As Arethusa through the mazes led
Of the dark earth, through her inclosed bed,
At length makes passage, so my sorrow swels,
O'r flows my Brain, and drowns my brinie cels;
Their names, and natures seem to suit each other,
Judas sold Christ and Judah sold his Brother,
And when I sin how can't be understood
But that I'm guilty of my Saviours blood!
I sold him, and he bought me, yet in vain,
For I each day doe barter him again;
Sins are too pregnant, that they should appear
So far remov'd, only in Plato's year:
Their Brother by the Patriarks of old,
After our Saviour was by Iudas sold,
Men are liv'd o'r again; O could our times
Non guilty plead from such unnat'rall crimes!
For spurious vices are hereditary,
Though th' ages vanish, and the seasons vary.
Now nights dark mantle had the world behung,
Nights Quirister her ev'ning notes had sung,
And carefull Reuben thinking all secure,
Darkness at hand that might his care mature,
Unto his Brother hies, and comming near
He cries aloud dear Brother Ioseph hear;
No answer made, unto a higher strain
He tunes his voice aloud to rouze the Swain,
None but an echo answers, with his fist
Then thumps his Breast, lest death and sleep had kist,
Then carefull fear makes nearer scrutiny,
Believing not his ear, he trusts his ey,
And finding him not there sadly returns
Unto his Brethren, rents his cloaths, and mourns.
The child is not, then I, I will not home,
But like savage Satvr hence will come,
Like a wood-Cit'zen, on the same accounts
With Bears and Wolves I'd dine and sup by ounce.
You never suckt the Breasts of Wolves or Bears,
That you should be obdurate to his tears;
Since he is slain, where have you him inhears'd?
Which of you hath his guiltlesse bosome piec'd?
Fear you not Rachel will appear anon.
And to our Father mone her murtherd son,
And with strong dreams at night intrance his spirit?
You for a blessing may a curse inherit.
Had rage no other countermine in store
Against contempt but death? what could it more?
At this they all stood mute, none was so bold
For to reply that Josoph's bought and sold,
Untill that one more boldly for the rest
To mourning Reuben all the truth confest.
That done, the coat which they from Joseph stript
I'th' blood of a young tender Goat they dipt.
Christs cloaths were parted, Josephs dipt in blood,
May ne'r by them our Church be understood,
May ne'r our Church lie tinctur'd in her gore,
Not rent by Shismaticks, I heav'n implore,
Nor heresies, may not that lovely Spouse
Be forc'd, nor Goats upon that Vineyard brouze;
May ne'r the Boars on it commit their rapes,
Nor in their mud lie drunken with her grapes.
Now Dan's instructed with a feigned prize
Of Josephs coat to pierce his Fathers eyes.
Quoth he, Sir walking partly for to muse,
Partly to gather hurdles for our Ewes,
I saw my Curr strangely to breath the wind,
Anon this bloody garment for to find,
I doubt 'tis Josephs, and I could not rest
Till you resolv'd what yet my fears suggest;
Then Jacob rent his cloathes, puts sackcloth on,
Doubtlesse, quoth he, some beast hath torn my son,
Come grief unsluce the floodgates of my brain,
Break ope the springs, let forth the silver rain:
Hath age or passion drain'd my humours drie?
What means within my brain this strangury?
My brain's a barren cloud, though it have felt
The heat of grief 'twill not dissolve nor melt;
Me thinks now should my dropsi'd skin deplore
My Iosephs death with tears through ev'ry pore,
I've heard great sorrow's dumb and wanteth words,
But now griefs barren, and no tears affords;
My brain and fancy both alike are drie,
I can nor weep, nor speak my miserie;
Would from the North I stormy sighs could borrow,
Tears from the fleeting South to weep my sorrow,
My heavy heart as moated round with led,
Doth lie within my bosome buried?
I've heard some have been nourished by Beasts,
Some children have been fostred at their Breasts,
Then, then, could not my Joseph's inn'cent ey
E'n charm all Beasts from their Antipathy?
Dans words did grate the grisles of my ears,
Crackt not my eye-strings when I saw through tears
The Coat? O would it had been a disguise,
But tears were not false glasses to mine eyes;
I'd weep the dreggs of tears, these seem the froth
Of triviall grief, since tears cause childrens growth.
Come Benjamin, Now thou mayst justly borrow
Thy Mothers name Benoni, son of sorrow;
Th'art not so young in years, but canst conceive
Of this our losse, how canst thou choose but grieve?
Father, quoth he (then were his eyes afloat
When as as he viewd the parti-coloured coat)
Do not all sorrow to your self ingrosse,
You weep a Sons, and I, as Brothers loss;
O would my tears were of that pretious rate
That they slain Joseph could redeem from fate;
Joseph's not lost, I've heard you oft rehearse
That Enoch had with God so neer commerce
That God did take him, might not providence
Have like respect to Joseph's innocence?
If so, I've likewise often heard you name
How that my faithfull Grandsire Abraham
Would in obedience unto Gods command
His only Son, with an impartiall hand,
Offer to God, you've many, he no more,
Grudge not to spare God one of all your store.
Quoth Jacob, Oh these hopes are counterfeit,
I'd gladly cheat my grief with such deceit,
My fear's too reall, then his tears he showr'd,
Doubtless, quoth he, some beast hath him devour'd.
Come, come, my children, weep with me awhile,
While that I lie like to a floating Ile
Soaking in tears, come, and in Sympathie
Of Josephs fortunes lend a bleeding eie.
Talk not of cloaths, this is griefs ornament,
Sorrow my food, and Machpalah my tent.
Would I had never seen these dismall years,
Then ne'r had I thus dy'd imbalm'd in tears.
Grief be my Sexton, Sorrow toll my Bell.
Death my Vespillo bee, Fates ring my knell,
My Nun-like soul is weary of her cloyster,
So sorrow sucks my marrow, dries my moysture.
In pitty of his tears, what tyrant keeps
His eyes from raining when an old man weeps?
With the Venetian sorrow hath a Sea
Espoused to my brain, tears are griefs plea,
Whose headstrong torrent who can but affront?
What Xerxes can but guive my Holiespont?
The Midianties as doubting a reprieve
Of their lov'd purchase strait to Memphis drive,
Whose burnish'd turrets as they did approach,
Shewd like some Saphyrs dropt from Phoebus Coach;
Whose lofty Pinacles transparent light
Did seem to mock the twinckling starrs by night:
The Merchants willing to obtain regard
Of Putiphar Captain of Pharoahs guard,
And good opinion of their trading truth,
With humble Court'sie thus present our youth.
Great Sir, quoth they, as we pasto'r the plains,
It was our chance to meet with Hebrew swains;
At whose much importunity we bought
This youth, whom we have to your Lordship brought;
Assuring thus our selves, that if the grace
Of mind be answerable to his face,
So sweet a face, so blest a Genius,
Is fitter for your Lordship, than for us.
Quoth Putiphar it argues not your thrift,
To tender gratis such a worthy gift,
Let not your courtesie thus seem so nice,
Nor circumstantiall, but tell the price.
Quoth one, the Hebrews askt Spice Balm, or gum,
But twenty silver pieces was the sum;
At this the Captain starteth How so cheap?
So rare a purchase for so small a heap?
Were I a King, and such a son had lost,
I would redeem him at my kingdom's cost,
Nay though twice Egypt, and though Nile did stream
In golden Cataracts, surpast a dream,
Though each sand were a Saphyr on his banks;
Take gold for silver, for your love take thanks;
These homely weeds do not beseem my lad,
Thou shalt in scarlet, and in silks be clad,
Nor by extorting trialls will I prove,
How thou hereafter wilt deserve my love,
Though I am not like those that doe rejoyce
When that they buy, in nature, more than choice;
This said, the multitude about him crowds,
Hee like a star bemantled round with cloudes,
Or like a Diamond if richly set
In the circumference of a ring of jet.
You in his face might read whom he ador'd,
And in their visage, whom they oft implor'd.
Now to his home the Captain brought his page,
Drest with the rest in scarlet equipage,
Whose blushing cheeks natures fresh livery,
Did shame the scarlet with a nobler die;
Jove ne'r was serv'd by such a Ganymede,
No false Ixion to his masters bed;
What e'r he did some Angel did attend,
And brought his actions to a prosperous end,
And for his sake, his Masters care and pain
Was ever recompence'd with double gain.
This seen, there's granted to his providence
The office of a steward to dispense:
Where God's the supervisor who will fear?
T'a faithfull steward God's a treasurer;
Successe the midwife was, and gain the heir
And happy issue still of each affair.
Envy at this repines, and madly shakes
About her horrid head her ratling snakes;
Her looks more meager grew, her limbs more thin,
And with her rusty teeth begins to grin
At Josephs Fortunes, he must drink a sup
Of hers, as well as Fortunes pleasant cup;
Among the rest that homage did of duty,
And vow'd adorates were to Josephs beauty,
His mistris (fair Iempsar) tore the veil
Of modesty, no counsell could be bail
For captive reason J seph gave the wound,
And who to cure't but Joseph may be found?
First reason to her fancy read this lecture,
Should this be known what would the Court conjecture?
Reason exiled judgment thus deprav'd,
Thou to thy servile vassall thus inslav'd.
I grant sweet Joseph hath a peerless beauty,
But can his loyally dispense with duty,
He owes his master Potiphar her Lord?
And fear'st thou not his lust-revenging sword?
But what quoth she? let fore-sight wait one age,
Youth ne'r to counsell sues for Patronage;
Let fab'lous fears present their bug bear faces,
And marshall all their horrours yet the basis
On which my resolution grounds my love
What terrour can but shake what fear remove?
Now this res [...]lv'd upon what flight evasion
Hath critick reason, and what vain perswasion?
Wer't not for gifts this face perswades alone
Since he hath eyes and ears, he may be won.
Pregnant with hopes impariently she tends
Till time might provent Pander for her ends,
And long had sweating lost conspir'd with fraud,
Untill fa [...]e Opportunity the Baud
To s [...]ch designs, appointed time and place,
When she uninterrupted pleads her case.
Dear J [...]seph, long with hopes my brest hath teem'd,
Time long unfleg'd and [...]llow wing'd hath seem'd,
Til they deliver'd by the Midwifry
B [...] of this happy Opportunity,
Which since it smiles on us, I hope my love
Shall not by coy neglect abortive prove.
Why starts thou at love nam'd? why dost thou scorn?
'Tis to and for love that we all were born.
Frown not but speak yet speak not while you frown,
I will not hear, nay pray, you shall not down.
What is it that thou fearest? no spie waits
To fright our dalliance to distracted straits.
Pray leave these niceties, and give a kisse
As happy Prologue to ensuing bliss.
Come youth, I'll set thee in a showr of gold.
And rain down Pearls upon thee; nay be bold:
Pray smooth this brow, these clowdy looks inform
That some dislike is raising of a storm.
Madam, quoth he, excuse if I explode
This your request, 'tis sin against my God.
How can I then do this? this massie roof
That thus contains us is not thunder proof:
How can my loyalty break down the verge
Of reason, love, and duty? since the charge
Of all to me is granted, you except
What hath my Lord from me detain'd or kept?
Which would much aggravate this gross abuse,
So farre beyond remission, as excuse.
Now here was beauty, if he had been fond
Beauty with beauty here might correspond.
Here were large promises, that might inchant
A stern refusall to a silent grant.
Since heaven was his love, it is no wonder
If less he fear'd her frown than heavens thunder.
Not willing to desist at this repulse,
Our Amorist with second thoughts consults;
First fearing lest her faces nice perusall
Might in the lad occasion this refusall,
Her glasse she curses, grief her heart doth gnaw;
I thought quoth she, these beaming eyes could thaw
E'n frost-congealed veins, and might suffice
To melt a heart though moated round with yee;
But I'm deceiv'd, by Chemosh and you light
My nayles could damn you to eternall night,
And on this face could act a Martyrdome,
Bite off this fruitless tongue, and hence live dumb.
Alas poor ornaments, despised tresses,
Contemned promises, deceiving dresses,
Love took me pris'ner, yet I could take arms,
And now what wit, what counsell-countercharms
Can exercise my love? love's spirit lies
Beyond the reach of all our sorceries.
What patience can conceal't, What reason smother?
False expectation is a curst Stepmother.
With what an Usury doth she extort
An ages longing for a minutes sport?
But joy with grief, Fate on one Bottome spins,
And pain and pleasure often-times are twins.
Though Pain's the elder, yet to the forlorn
Anon Joy th'younger Sister will be born;
On this our Lover Deifies Perswasion,
And with a Godhead she invests Occasion;
Shee'll try once more, though shame do countermand,
Though life with death in equall ballance stand.
Despair and Hope long in her Brest contested,
Untill her mem'ry time and place suggested;
And now how slowly Phoebus snailes his course,
And draws his fiery Coach with founderd horse;
The wings of flagging Time are clipt, he feels
The keyes of sleep and death weigh'd at his heels.
Occasion serving her you may conceive
Our wanton Amorist thus playes the Eve.
Dear Joseph, Fate and Fortune have conspir'd
For to mature the sute I late desir'd,
Then let's no longer this our bliss prorogue,
But now close up our loving Epilogue;
Why looks disdain asquint? this forehead furld
In angry folds? Survey this little world,
What beautie's in the world (my type) surmiz'd
That's not in me more gloriously compriz'd?
My Eyes dim Phoebus light, my Cheeks the sphears,
And what deformed clouds on them appears?
Each beauty here's a star, only from hence
My J [...]eph doth disdain their influence;
The Sun's all eye, the walls can do no wrong,
By palate, throat, two lips, four teeth and tongue.
Then fear no spies, these frowns shall never daunt,
They'r but an Introduction to a grant.
What, fear'st the light? the windows shall be seeld;
Since love is blind, Come do not frown, but yeeld.
Quoth hee, What means this chat, this bootless flattr'y?
Remove your Siege, my Fort disdains the Batt'ry;
O let your face and deeds be Relatists,
Where heaven, grace, and beauty in one twists,
'Tis a rare mixture, else for what's this face?
Your world doth want his Sun if void of Grace.
Is lustfull Sodoms fiery doom forgot?
Or was't not heard? me thinks the room's too hot.
This Curtain's woven in too thin a loom
To bear out forked lightning and this room
Not built of such unmalleable stuff,
But the same God can thunderbolt it through.
What Mimick figures doth this Face assume
To set forth Passion? use this fruitless rheum
Distilling from your Eyes to purge your guilt,
For to this purpose all in vain are spilt.
On this Iemsar madly ruminates,
Fortune's a Strumpet, who, but Bawds the Fates?
Occasion is a Traitress, 'tis no slander
If Venus be call'd Where, Cupid a Pander.
Anon she frets and fumes, vext with the pride
That she should be neglected, and deni'd.
Then rails on Nature 'cause her beauties vigour
Could not prevail, then threats her with this rigour.
Poor face, quoth she, my nails could quote in scarrs,
And trace thy shame in bloudy characters.
These Eyes, these Eyes, are Basilisks, else sure
Where they are thus avoided, might allure;
Then since that nought avails this idle breath,
I'll to my glass, and look my self to death.
Weak Hair! How often have I thought in vain
That you in amorous guives could Hero's chain?
Are you thus slighted? can a servile groom
Break through your tresses like a Spiders loom?
I'd gladly Reason re-admit my tutor,
And friendly counsell, as her Coadjutor;
But where some beauties cloy the appetite,
His sets a sharper edge upon delight.
Let reason chat, so with attentive grisle
Rough Boreas hearkens to the Sea-mens whistle;
For what! who but a leaden-spirited clown
Will fearfully stand bent at ev'ry frown?
True Resolution hath my temper steel'd,
Which back will spring, till broke will never yeeld.
Long Summers crown the long expected primes,
And who will gain his ends must wait on times,
Where pleasure's principall, pain paies the use.
Of Fate and Fortune now she begs excuse;
And Love with whom she madly late contested
Is in his Deity now re-invested;
Who'll not endure Love's pecking Doves shall smart
For his impatience with his angry dart;
To those that yeeld Love is a gracious Queen,
A tyrant to a refractory spleen;
Somtimes she fears suspition might discover
To Putiphar, she was her Vassals lover,
And then what slight, or what insinuation
Can free her from his just repudiation?
But Fear's a Pigmie drest in Gorgons cloaths;
To gain her ends shee'll break all nuptiall oaths:
On Lovers perjuries they say Joves smiles,
And Love is still auspicious to such Wiles.
As did Semiramis once woo her Nine,
So likewise our Egyptian Messaline.
Occasion serving her, you may surmize,
Thus makes her third assault upon her prize.
Look dear, how Time hath granted what I claim'd,
And Chance presents the scope to which I aim'd,
Let's not delay, of my request accept,
And in my graunt let Nature have her debt;
Thou to a Father wert a Child, I gather
That to a Child thou mightst become a Father;
Pray do not thus discourteously impeach
Me as before, hear, till I end my Speech;
Yet in my suing looks if I were mute,
Thou mightst most plainly read my loving sute;
Regard these Tears, Pearls of so rare esteem
Which Pharoh, if a Captive, might redeem.
What's here, shouldst thou of envie take advice?
What's here deformed that thou shouldst be nice?
Here's symmetry no ill-proportion'd frame,
Nature and Art herein deserve no blame;
My sinewes active are my spirits quick
Are as thine own, they'r neither gr [...]ss nor thick;
Which granted, speak, who (but a sensless stone)
To such requests as these would not be prone?
Madam, quoth he my resolution's fixt,
Nor with ambiguous doubts at all is mixt;
Were you an Angell come from heav'n, and mov'd
Me to this sute, I never would have lov'd;
Which yer I grant, conceive that Heav'n and Hell,
Things inconsistent, incompatible
Shall in harmonious unity combine,
Yer I one thought to your request incline;
Though nature you with choysest parts endows,
My ey shall never countermand my vows.
I hate not love, but that intemp'rate flame
Of burning lust that thus usurps his name;
Love at a heav'nly beam doth light his torch,
While hellish flames the lust-allured scorch.
Much more than this, for sacred love I'd speak;
The text is old, the oratory weak.
Pray speak no more, my ears do burn for shame
To hear your talk, my cheeks are all aflame.
Thus daily did our pathick Amorist,
The fair Iempsar, in her sute persist;
And Joseph's truth, as bold was as her lust
Denies to violate his faith and trust.
Oft did his ears pump her invention dry,
And then her sighes her meaning would supply;
And as some doe observe, the visage keeps
The self-same figures when it laughs and weeps,
So various were her passions, none could read
In hers where that she smil'd, or wept indeed.
Had but the Syrens to Ulysses sung
So sweetly, as here woo'd Iemsars tongue,
'Tis thought Ulysses had, though ne'r so chast,
Broke through the yeelding Cable, burst the Mast,
His mens unsealed ears charm'd by her notes,
Had left their empty ship to Neptunes floats.
Now would she strike her Brests, then otherwhiles
Weep tears would cheat even the Crocodiles.
Ne'r was a Roe more weary of her chase,
Ne'r timerous Hare to shun the Hunters trace,
Doubled more folds, or made more neer escapes,
Than to avoid her, he did vary shapes;
And when he ever would himself unmew,
Shee like disdained Echo still would sue;
Or like his shadow, only had not fled,
Had he returned to her lustfull Bed.
Iempsar at young Josephs chast regrets,
Is madly malecontent, and thus she frets.
Shall expectation longer dull my sense?
Or I turn' [...] o'r to racking patience?
Stoop I so low, and in my sute so serious?
And is this Lad so sullen and imperious?
Shall I, shall I, who was so nobly born
Thus prove a [...]rop [...] to my vassals scorn?
Shall I, whose words can either save or doom,
Thus [...]ive, as sentenc'd by my servile groom?
Shall I, whose powrfull face was wont to bow
The stoutest Monarchs to an amorous vow,
Be thus despis'd contemn'd condemn'd, rejected,
My promise slighted and my faith suspected?
I'll make him know by dear experience,
What 'tis a womans fury to incense.
Women are Angels, grant to what they mov'd,
Deni'd are Furies, hate what e'r they lov'd.
But yet there are some hopes; perhaps this Boy
Is out of inexperience thus so coy:
A bold assault, perchance, may win the crown,
Then will I thunder if he dare to frown;
The sweetest Wine hath still the sharpest lees;
And water heat, once coold will hardest freeze:
Seeing thus my resolution hath decreed,
Let Ven [...] or Alecto be my speed.
Ne'r could our haunted youth have the enjoyment
Of ease or quiet, labour or employment,
But him she haunts, at length he unaware,
Thus boldly she anticipates his ear.
Look dear, my care thy utmost hath outvi'd;
Why fly'st me so? sweet give me leave to chide;
Was it not grief enough thou should'st deny mee?
But thus likewise discourteously to fly mee?
Denyalls wound but where love cannot plead
His sute through absence, sorrow strikes him dead:
Dear, Why art thou and I grown day and night,
When I am most then thou art least in sight:
Look Time o'rshades us with a prosp'rous wing,
And but thy love could I wish any thing?
Frown not, since Fortune smiles, make use of season,
Here is no blab to prate, then fear no treason.
Art thou religious? What is zeal but love?
And such proficients must such means improve;
Leave, leave this coyness, let not love be banish'd,
Make use of love, before this Youth be vanish'd.
This said, our hasty lover is grown mute,
As was invention prompting a recruit.
Quoth Joseph, Madam, leave these Syrens songs,
This pair of ears can dry a thousand tongues,
They ne'r shall force a passage to my heart;
My resolution goes beyond your art.
Then be resolv'd, I wish you understood
Lust stains the tincture of your noble blood.
Love is all valour, damned lust a craven;
Love's Embleme is a Dove, but Lust's a Raven.
More I could speak.—and more he would have spoke
Had she not lustfully caught at his Cloak,
Who, of his Cloak, not chastity, bereft,
Fled, and his garment with his Mistris left.
He gon, her blood through choler grew adust
Within her veins, black, as her burning lust;
Where Lust's the Mother, Hate is still the Child,
Thus Love and Lust are never reconcil'd.
Iempsar raves, no other pains she felt
Than did some Witch her waxen statue melt,
Her heart knockt at her ribs e'n such a pain
Did Meleager (Poets say) sustain,
When that his Mother with her angry hand
Into the flames had cast the fatall brand;
Officious envy soon a lie suggested,
And she as by some horrid ghest infested
Exclaim'd aloud, her servants at the noyse
Approach'd, whom strait she greeteth with this voice.
Quoth she, The slave on which He so consides,
Forsooth the Steward who our business guides,
Would ravish me; but by my outcrie chac't,
Fled, and his garment with me left through hast,
Glad she had drest her lie in such a shape,
That he on her attempted had a rape,
She knew the Youth should from her Husband win
No expiation for so foul a sin,
On which triumphing our incensed Dame
Layes up the Garment till her Husband came.
He come, her mind our Lady thus discust,
As Phaedra once accus'd her son of lust.
With mournfull looks, moyst eies, and hands expans'd,
Quoth she, The Youth whom you have so advanc'd,
Had ravish'd me, had not my shreeking tongue
More powerfull been, than my defence was strong.
And as a witness of what he design'd
For hast he left with me his Cloak behind.
This said, the blood boyld in the Captains veins,
Rough Jealousie strait gave his rage the reins;
Quoth He to Joseph, is this lovely look
So fair an Index to so false a Book?
Nay sure old Nature doted, when she shrind
Within so fair a Case so foul a Mind.
Hence, I'll ne'r trust to beauty, since I know
Worst thoughts lurk mask'd under the fairest show.
How I'm deceived who would ever fear
A Devill mov'd within this splendid sphear?
I know the reason now, and will assent
Why fairest flowers have still the foulest sent.
Is thy Religion but a feign'd disguise?
Is lust the zeal that thus thy temper fries?
Wert thou for this prefer'd, so highly fed,
That thou shouldst thus attempt to stain my Bed?
Could none, could none, ambitious lust, suffice
But such a purchase of so rare a prize?
Hardship shall check this temper day and night,
Hunger shall quell this lustfull Appetite;
Yet though thou herein wer't so malapert,
And this offence might cancell all desert,
My rage shall not glut on thy flesh for food,
Nor shall my furyes revell on thy blood;
Yet leave these robes that I may be reveng'd,
These golden Chains for Guives must be exchang'd,
These Rings for Manacles, for Tapestry
Darkness shall serve thee for a Canopy;
To prison hence, whence hope for no reprivall:
Think'st thou my thoughts can brook my slave, my rivall?
Oft Joseph thus began, yet when he spoke
The Captain on the Jaylour would invoke.
My grief the rigour of your doom exceeds,
That Fate hath interwoven so my deeds
With secrecy that what my Mistris saith
Beyond my truth, of all should purchase faith:
Yet innocence is bold and I avouch
If e'r I so attempted her to touch,
May heav'n and earth against me both conspire,
And may I stand the object of their ire,
If I were false, then as my just desert,
May this right hand prove traytour to my heart.
To God who is as innocent, so just
I do appeal, I never ment this lust;
To him, that will both quit me for this blame,
And in the end make envy blush for shame.
These notwithstanding Josephs vows and tears,
So Jealousie stood in the Captains ears
As Centinell, that no complaint or mone
Could force a passage unto reasons throne;
And thus no further brought unto the test
The Jaylour entertains his wofull guest.
Although a Pearl through glass more dully shines,
'Tis not the prison Wall but guilt confines;
Where conscience in the bosome runs atilt
Against the heart, the Jaylour there is guilt.
And if the body, not the mind be free,
What is that but a captiv'd liberty?
The greater world to such, no less doth seem,
Than is the lesser in the souls esteem.
But innocence though in a narrow gyre
Is free as ever fancy can desire;
Angels spread not more free their aery wings;
The charter'd Libertine of the Woods, not sings
More free; the ship cuts not the silver fome,
Nor Fish more freely in the Ocean come;
Nay Winds are limited, and Sea's restrain'd,
But Innocence is free, though bound and chain'd.
Oft our impris'ned Youth his God implor'd,
And with these mournfull sighes the heavens board,
Thou that art cloath'd with light; as with a cloak,
Before whom heaven vanisheth like smoak,
Dispell, O Lord, that wilfull ignorance
That would miscall this Providence, a Chance;
Lord, I have sinned, and this heavy scourge
Thou plagu'st me with, was formed in my forge;
'Tis sin, my conscience, Lord, doth so attest,
Betraies my freedome unto this arrest;
So that I cannot satisfie my mind
Which of the two more straightly is confin'd,
Either my Soul within this flesh immur'd,
Or else my Body that is thus secur'd;
Thou, that for former sins dost thine correct
(Although then innocent) with false suspect;
Thou who mak'st greatest men, like stoutest trees
At thy rebuke to bow their knotty knees;
Since sin upon my Soul writes not this guilt;
Let mercy bayl, let not my life be spilt:
This of thee, Lord, I humbly do importune,
Who art far much above Men, Fate, or Fortune.
Our Youth in Prison had not long been kept,
But that his winning manners softly crept
Into the Jaylours brest, and won such grace,
The Jaylour captive to his Pris'ner was;
So ever did this holy Witch inchaunt him,
So ever Joseph's good conceit did haunt him;
That he anon commiserates the youth,
And makes strange descants on Iemsars truth;
Anon his care by constancy matur'd,
Had so the Jaylour of the truth assur'd,
That to his providence, he grants at large
His keyes, his care, his custody and charge;
Anon great Pharaoh highly was incens'd,
For thus suspition had her plaint commenc'd
His Butler and his Baker had compli'd
On him to act a poys'nous Regicide;
The King defer'd not, but on his attaint
Both were confined to a close restraint;
Both to the self-same prison were conveigh'd
To which sweet Joseph lately was betray'd,
Whom so the Captain of the guard inlarg'd
That with the new-come Pris'ners he was charg'd,
Who for a time were both in prison kept,
Till in a night when sleep payd Natures debt;
Their brains had etertained such conceits,
Whose resolution drove them to such straits;
What should these dreams import, whose ridling fancy
They fear'd surpast the rack of Necromancy;
With strange imaginations thus perplext
They sate revolving on the fancies text:
Till Ioseph came, who strait in humble sort
Thus asks what these demeanours did import,
Quoth he, what means this eye, late, quick, and full
So suddenly grow hollow, sunk and dull.
These fixed looks, what do these sighs imply?
This visage drest in sorrows livery?
Grief vented much is eas'd, then tell the cause
On what you thus demur, and sadly pause;
This night, quoth they, our troubled Genii
Have fixt so strangely on our memory
Strange Dreams, beyond our powers to untwist,
And (worse) we fear, of Charm or Chemosh Priest,
This sayd, quoth Joseph heaven oft in Dreams
Presents imagination with Theams
Of high import, inspired fantasie
Oft speaks more true then weak Astrology;
And as 'tis Gods t'inspire, I dare be bold
To say 'tis likewise his for to unfold;
Weak sorcery may feed you with delusion,
Ne'r satisfie you with a true conclusion;
Then here unload your thoughts to me, and I
I'th'end may prove your faithfull Mercury.
At this the Butler speaks then hear, Ipray
Me thought one Vine three branches did display,
Which first, me thought, did bud, then bloom'd abroad,
Then bore ripe clusters of a pleasant load;
I having Pharaohs Cup, before him stood,
And in it to him crusht their sparkling blood;
Quoth Joseph then, three branches are three days,
Which time expired, Pharaoh shall thee raise
From up this Dungeon, unto former grace,
And shalt officiate in thy wonted place.
But then, quoth he, as this shall thus prove true,
So to the King for my releasment sue,
That I no longer thus, may ly inplung'd,
My spotless name by infamy expung'd;
For I long since was ravished by theft,
Both of my Country, and my friends bereft;
Then when you are to dignity restor'd,
Pray think on what I humbly here implor'd;
Remember Joseph, quit me from this blame,
Lest I prove, shortly, nothing but the name.
From that sin of Lust, heav'n knows I'm cleer,
As is you light that Chariots in his Sphear.
The Baker seeing the Butlers Dreams import,
Was of his re-advancement in the Court,
Quoth he, I likwise strangely dream'd, me thought
As to the Court I three white Baskets brought
With bak'd-meats, and with other plenty stor'd,
Wherewith I might replerish Pharaohs board,
The Birds allured by the dainties fled,
And pickd them as I bore them on my head.
Quoth Joseph these three Baskets do presage,
When thrice the Sun hath past the azurd stage.
The King shall from this Prison thee conveigh,
And hang thee on a tree for Birds a prey;
The third day Memphis with triumphall mirth
Held in remembrance of their Pharohs birth,
When that the Butlers innocent desert
Was re-advanc'd the Baker to the Cart
From Prison was conveigh'd, and in this season
Was hang'd in expiation of his treason;
Whose trunk allured many an aery guest,
Who seem'd in honour of the time to feast;
The Butler notwithstanding this, forgot
Sad Joseph that foretold his future lot,
As fattest fields yeeld weeds of foulest savours,
Ingratitude repayes the greatest favours;
Since Pride, is Fortunes daughters 'tis less strange
To see how soon us can Preferment change:
For they whose Fortunes flie another sphear
Unto their Mates, stern Planets oft appear;
At least despise them, or their Vows forget;
So Bells at first speak thick, but rais'd are set.
So small Brooks roar, but gaining depth of land,
Their swelling streams are at a sullen stand.
Twice swelling Nile his barren banks had drown'd,
And with his fertile slime inricht the ground,
Twice twelve times had the Mistris of the night,
Lookt black, through absence of her lovers sight,
When that great Pharaoh on his couch lay stretcht,
And leaden Morpheus on his senses watcht,
His roving Genius was entertain'd
By such conceits, which, though his fancy feign'd,
Yet under them, he fear'd, was coucht a sense
Of high Import, and mighty Consequence;
When, straight, he tryes the Charmers and their Spells,
Who all implor'd their wonted Oracles;
One woo'd the Stars, another pli'd the Tomb,
A third his Spirit charm'd, but all were dumb;
As when some did the Delphian Shrine implore,
When th'Oracle grew dumb, and spake no more.
On which the Butler being seen awoke
By racking memory, thus humbly spoke,
Great Sir, I cannot give my thoughts a truce,
Till I my self thus to your Grace accuse,
I with the Baker were accus'd long since
To have conspir'd the death of thee, our Prince,
On which, as Traitours to the solemn Oath
Of our Aleageance, you confin'd us both;
When in one night, our fancies had imprest
Such Dreams on memory, which to the test
Of Reason brought, drove us t'amazed straights
Who might unfold their intricate conceits;
When to a fellow-pris'ners much requests
The Captains servant, We unlockt our Breasts,
Who, the results both of my innocence
Foretold, and of the Bakers just events.
Pharaoh not asking why he was attach'd,
A hasty Message to the Guard dispatch'd
To set their Pris'ner free; who we may ghesse,
Was brought to Pharaoh in a seemly dresse;
Who, now rejecting all the Magick sect,
Thus speaks to Joseph with a mild aspect;
Strange Dreams, this night, my Spirits have ingrost,
Remembrance haunts me like an angry Ghost,
And I have heard thy Spirit is accute,
And canst unravell Dreams beyond dispute;
Now, couldst thou lead me through this Maze, and Mist
Of doubts, could'st thou my ridling Dreams untwist?
Quoth Joseph, Then let Pharaoh hear me speak,
Yet 'tis not I, but God, for I am weak;
Let fears all vanish, let debarement cease;
My God shall to great Pharaoh answer peace.
Quoth Pharaoh, as I slept, this was my Dream.
Me thought I stood close by a pleasant stream,
I look'd, and from the banks I saw there climb'd
Seven Kine, fat-flesh'd, and well proportion limb'd,
Which in a Medow neer the River plac'd,
Fed pleasantly, and made a full repast:
Next, from the stream ascending, I observ'd,
Seven Kine, small limb'd, sunk-ey'd, and hunger-starv'd,
Who straight devour'd the rest that came before,
Yet still remain'd ill-favoured, lean, and poor,
Then I awoke, and while I sadly mus'd,
Where this were naturall, or else infus'd,
I know not yet, what vapours did condense
Within my brain, sleep once more lockt my sense,
When lo, I dream'd again, One stalk sustaind
Sev'n eares of Corn, rank, good, and heavy-graind;
Next them, sev'n eares thin, blasted, and deflowr'd
Arose, which strait, the former crop devour'd:
I told the Charmers this yet ne'r could learn
Of them, what these my dreamings did concern.
Great Sir, quoth Joseph thus, these sev'n full ears,
And sev'n good kine, are seven plenteous years,
In which the earth shall in increasfull crops.
Rejoyce the Husbandmen beyond their hopes;
The sev'n thin eares, and seven ill-favoured kine,
Are seven years of Famine, I divine,
Which shall ensue the first, the Springs recruit
Be void, the Earth fail of her wonted fruit;
The Vine shall not her wonted Vintage bleed,
And Nile in nothing fruitfull but in weed.
The Dream was twice presented, for to shew
That this establish'd is, and shall ensue
Through Gods decree, now (by your Graces leave)
If I might counsell what I fit conceive,
Though I am shallow, and my thoughts I still
Confesse, flag much below your Counsels skill.
Yet I might say, that oft (your Grace doth know)
To lowest means we greatest matters owe.
And though that no one can anticipate
The Heavens decree, and cross the doom of Fate,
Your Grace may know there's by this warning meant,
That you this judgement may through care prevent;
Let Pharaoh make one of his wisest Peers
Chief Master of the Corn the plenteous years.
Who may disperse his servants through each County.
To gather up Ceres superfluous bounty
To a fifth part, while plenty so shall last,
Through riot that there be no spoil nor wast,
Who where there are no Barns may give a charge;
To build where they are small for to inlarge;
For great shall be the plenty and extream
Shall be the famine, as your Grace did Dream;
So shall you wisely deal, like carefull Ants,
Whom Natures teacheth to prevent their wants;
Famine's Death's younger Sister, 'tis an Elf
More terrible than War or Death it self.
This liking Pharaoh well he answers thus;
Where can we find so fit a Genius?
So dext'rous as thy self so full of merit,
In whom there is inshrin'd so rare a Spirit?
So worthy of our confidence, so prompt?
Of my affairs here take the full accompt,
Who dares against my choice for to repine?
Or turn a Rebell to thy Discipline?
My Genius, my triple ey I swear
Thou than my other two art far more dear;
How joy refines my temper! oh 'tis strange,
They erre that think Complexions cannot change.
Embraces distant are O would that Fate
Would grant we might more neer incorporate.
My wit wants words to set my Passion forth,
Or Hieroglyphycks to describe thy worth;
Who dares with thee confest? there's greater none
Than thee but I that sit upon the Throne.
So [...]e late under an Imperious guard,
Was now advanced unto high reward;
Pharaoh sate at the Helm, but Joseph steer'd,
And in the second Chariot was preferr'd
And some, according to the Kings Decree
Would run before him, crying, Bow the knee.
So he, who seem'd in miserie forlorn'd
His neck hath with a golden Chain adorn'd;
His finger decked with a precious Ring
Which Pharaoh wore as Embleme of a King.
Who in despised rags did lie of late.
Now in rich Robes walk'd in Majestick state:
The Bias of all Egypt he, that drew
Their Inquisition t'an admiring view:
The Court was but the Ring, and he the Gem,
As to a branch of Egypts Royall Stem.
All did submit themselves, and to the Court
As to a late descended God resort.
First, one would call him Father, and salute
Him with a present of his early fruit;
In things of weight, one by his Genius swore,
A third in pain would Josephs God implore,
The old (late weary of their lives) desir'd
To bless their Eyes with him yet they expir'd;
The middle ag'd would bless him, and the young
Unto him issue, in a num'rous throng;
Rich, poor, strong weak, the humble, and the haughty,
All ran to see the Author of their safety;
So he, on whom the heavens seem'd to frown,
Is now advanced unto high renown.
So he, who late in Prison did obey,
Now o'r all Egypt bears a mighty sway;
Our Saviours truest Type; so Christ arose
To save those whom God of his mercy chose;
As Pharaohs love to Joseph was inclin'd,
Hath God the Father to his Son resign'd
All Power, hath Him from bonds of flesh releas'd,
So is the Father in the Son well pleas'd;
Hath at his right hand plac'd him, wills that wee
At Jesus name should bow an humble knee.
Thrice ten times Joseph had seen I aniveer
With double face to usher in the year,
When thus he stood before great Pharaohs face,
And gain'd this measure of his Princely grace,
Which age, now for a bosome help matur'd,
Such was kind Pharoahs love, that he procur'd
Potipherah, the princely Priest of Un,
To take his Countries Father for his Son,
His first-born was Manasseth, for I have
Quoth he, forgot how I was sold a slave.
My present happiness where e'r I come,
Makes me forget my Friends and native home;
His second Ephraim, for I, a stranger,
Quoth he, am fruitfull in a Land of danger;
About which age our blessed Sacrifice
Having redeem'd us not with common price,
But with his blood, ascended hence from this,
[...] a far more glorious world of bliss;
And for his sweet belov'd, though he the groom
Prorogue the Mariage till the day of doom;
He ne'r is absent from the Church, his Spouse,
Both by the Spirit dart their mutuall vowes.
Now 'gan the plenteous years, Nile at no time
Did ever leave such fruitfull beds of slime;
The Husbands pain though great, though fat the soyl,
Yet still the fruit surpast their hopes and toyl;
As if God through a gracious remorse
Of mans great toyl, had here repeal'd that curse
Of tedious barrenness, for here their ground
Did like a fertile Paradise abound;
Fields that this Marshes weep, that Fens did mourn,
With fruit now laught, and sung with cheerfull corn;
The weather seasonable, no fierce rain
Egg'd on by Tempests, wash'd away their grain;
The heat was temperate, Sols gawdy torch
Did smile to ripen, never kiss to scorch.
And now did Joseph, like a carefull Father,
Against the time of Dearth begin to gather,
Conceiv'd how many sands are on the shore,
So vast, so numberless was Joseph's store;
Who, from the Kings Exchequer stor'd with Coin,
Fill'd up both Field and City, then would join
Barn unto barn, which large repositories
Stood long as Monuments of Joseph's glories.
Now to prevent all riots he began,
Which still destroyes more than a Famine can,
Corrupting plenty often is the Nurse
Of foul disease, no blessing but curse,
Time oft can witness, when abuse begat
Upon so fair a piece so foul a Brat.
Sev'n times had Sol cheer'd the Cymmerian coast,
Twelve times so oft exchang'd his monthly Host,
Since Nature like an ill-drawn Picture grew,
When it is pencill'd with a partiall view;
Or an unconstant Parent, whose love's blind,
And so imparts his store by Gavell kind,
Since she thus Egypt with such plenty blest,
But prov'd almost a Stepdame to the rest.
Anon (all things being hurried on the hinge
Of change, and subject to the fatall swinge
Of misery) here Famine rays'd her stage,
And 'gan, as Joseph did foretell, to rage.
Nile that was wont to drench their parched earth,
Now only flow'd in tears to weep their dearth;
As if some pore, or dry-exhausting vein
Had drain'd that slime that should refresh their grain;
The Husband-man lamented, that his seed
Di'd not to live again, the noysome weed
Did revell in his labour whose excess
Did riot in a fruitfull barrenness;
Thus pin'd he, 'cause he liv'd a bootless slave:
Now might he with his Plough share dig his grave;
His Prune-hook useless was, unless the Fate
Of Dearth therewith he would anticipate.
Now Famine had presented her first scene,
Which made the frighted Country-man to glean
His late neglected fields, and that is priz'd
As a rich Harvest which was late despis'd;
Another greedily would scrape the dough
That lay neglected in her kneading trough;
That face, which had Natures fresh liv'ry worn,
And shew'd as verdant as the rosie morn,
Now full-fac'd plenty had the Land forsook
Famine display'd pale colours in each look,
All walking like to naked Skeletons
Unto their Fellows made their heavy mones;
Some in the street did reel, how could they tread
A steady pace, that lack'd the staff of bread?
Now all neer famish'd, and their gleanings done,
With trembling steps they all to Pharaoh run,
As to their Father, making their complaint,
While some through weakness in his presence faint.
Great Sir quoth one, look how our beautie's blasted,
Our strength is spent, our spirits are exhausted,
Our young ones starve, our abler stomacks feed,
(Unless thou food supply,) on grass and weed;
Observe how Dearth mocks Death, our nether jawes
Hang down through weakness, while we plead our cause;
Look, look, how some would speak, but their faint lungs
Stop the intendments of their clammy tongues;
Grant, and dismiss us, for we here resort
Not for to make a Charnell-house thy Court.
The King prick'd with remorse of Egypts want,
Thus mildly condescends his Princely grant,
Quoth he, go, and what Joseph shall injoyn
Obey, doubt not, his spirit is divine.
That said, they croucht their thanks, have you observ'd
How that a Falcon through neglect neer starv'd,
Soon as her Keeper comes within her sight,
Both makes an eager, though a slug-like flight,
Unto her prey, and though her limbs be weak,
Shee fiercely tugs it with her ragged beak;
So the Egyptians in a numerous press
To Joseph's Palace, make their full address,
Some dumbly passionating begg'd, some kist
His feet, who op'ning all his store dismist
Them all without a rigorous dispute,
With a glad burthen of their purchas'd sute.
Now Egypt in this fatall time of dearth
Remain'd the onely Store-house of the Earth,
The worlds chief Granary, of grain the sole
Exchequer of each Land from Pole to Pole;
Ev'n Canaan on whose rich abounding store
Once lived thirtie Kings, must now implore
Her neighbours help, glad if she might in peace
Be made partaker of her blest increase;
Among whom (so did Providence design)
Old Jacob and his Sons began to pine
Through dearth; the palat late so liquorish,
Would gladly banquet on a common-dish;
Oft Jacob ruminates and weighs the cause
Why were all Kingdomes offer'd to the jawes
Of Famine, then concludes they'r justly curst,
Since they such monstrous sinners long had nurst;
Then would he doubt lest that his Childrens sin
Had brought this Curse on fertile Palestine.
Then seeks with Sacrifice for to appease
The heavens wrath, so might their fields increase;
Distrust he would not, for he did believe
God would redeem him with a safe reprieve,
Who promis'd that his seed (though death did rage)
Should have their Country for their Heritage;
While thus imagination had ingrost
His sense, and fancy thus divinely glost;
He calls his sons, to whom, you may suppose,
His smother'd thoughts old Jacob did disclose.
My Sons, quoth he you know our Corn is spent,
And little's left either in Field or Tent,
Our plenty-pregnant sins have now at last
Brought forth a Dearth, the mighty Protoplast
Mov'd by our monstrous sins hath strongly seel'd
The heav'ns with brass, and th'earth beneath hath steel'd:
And Death and Famine two remorsless Mates,
Triumphing ride, and knock at all our gates;
Those dainties fail that fed our glutt'nous lust,
Our chalkie teeth have lost their unctuous rust,
Why do you whisper thus, why do you gaze
One on another? let your Lambkins graze.
There's Corn in Egypt, goe and buy, my sons,
That we may live, we and our little ones.
You know our fruitfull fields forbear to teem,
We starve, unless your speedy care redeem;
Go, and make haste my sons, your Brothers pain
Shall be redoubled till you come again;
Your Sheep shall feed upon their pleasant grounds,
No Goat shall rove beyond his wonted bounds,
No Dog shall fright, no rav'nous Beast pursue
With fearfull flight a Kid or tender Ewe.
No dull delay could their intents adjourn,
But when stout Chaunticleer had wak'd the morn,
The carefull Brethren with a rustick port
Knockt to fair Memphis, then to Josephs Court;
For he it was who did dispense the Corn
To those whom meager Death had made forelorn.
Anon to Joseph they themselves addrest
With great submission, and with lowly crest
The prostrate Ten unto his Lordship croucht,
In every look humility was coucht,
Whom Joseph knew, yet he his passion checkt,
And strangely views them with a stern aspect;
And thus began What are you, and from whence?
Under what clime have you your residence?
Quoth they Great Master, Canan is our home,
Hither to buy food are thy servants come.
Their lowliness remembring him the truth
Of his presaging Dreams while yet a Youth.
Now might pale rancour swell, revenge insult,
And malice might demand no common mulct,
And envy by that seeming Justice backt
Of like for like, might proudly now exact
Great recompence, a Dungeon well might sit
Their cruelty that doom'd him to the Pit;
The law of Nature now might seem to crave
As they had him, so he should them inslave;
And in remembrance of their slouts, in scorn
Dismiss them hopeless, and deny them Corn.
Where envy is the memories Recorder,
Expect proceedings in remo [...]slless order;
But he ne'r entertain'd Her as a guest,
Much less a Tenant, in his peacefull Brest;
Their sight his pitty, not revenge begate,
His blood did daunce for joy, not boyl with hate;
Yet though his bowels did through passion yern,
As were his looks, thus his reproofs were stern.
Quoth he, what made you hither to repair
To leave your own, to breath a forreign air?
How careless is our guard? how have they watch'd?
That such suspitious Spies pass unattach'd?
Y'are Spies, our tortures shall the truth extort,
Why you thus saucily approach our Court;
You come to spie our weakness, you shall feel
What strength our Country hath, perhaps our Steel.
Our sins makes God seem strange, as clouds we see
Shrowd th'ey of heav'en, so sin Gods heav'nly ey;
Or if but seen his cheeks with an anger glow,
Wrath's on his ey thron'd, ruin on his brow,
And while they sin, as Traitors he attaints
Unto his Covenant, his dearest Saints.
The Brethren started at these thundring words,
The active blood within each body curds,
Quoth they, let not your Lordship this Impute,
Nor mis-interpret our unfeigned sute,
We all the tincture have of one mans blood,
Who hither hath us sent to buy some food,
And so let heaven with thy servants deal,
As we intend unto your Common-weal.
Wee'll have the truth of this upon the racks,
Quoth he, your sute, your Asses and your Sacks
Are meer pretences, you are all but Spies,
These specious colours cannot blind our eyes.
We're twelve, quoth they, and by one man begot,
The youngest is at home, and one is not,
We are no such, that to such ends do rome,
Hither to buy food are thy servants come;
Let not your Lordship trample miserie;
Pitty a strangers privilege should be;
O do not censure, w'are so innocent
We scarce conceive what by your words is meant;
If want be treason, and to come to buy
Food be invasion, then we come to spy.
Y'are Spies, quoth he, vain words no longer urge,
They are too empty this your guilt to purge,
Since you no other voucher can produce
To prove your truth, but only this excuse,
My Sentence, like my words, none may revoke,
Send for that youngest Son of whom you spoke;
Unless that Brother prove your evidence,
By Pharaohs life yee shall not part from hence,
Send one, mean while ye shall be all restraind
To prove if that your words be true or feign'd,
But if th'event convince you of a lie,
Why then by Pharaohs life ye come to spie.
Now were the Brethren all imprisoned.
Till thrice the Sun had left Aurora's bed;
When thus his Lordship spake. Sirs if y'are true,
Doe this, I fear a God as well as you,
If your cause spring from an unfeigned source,
No false injustice shall divert its course;
If true, you blunt, if false, you whet the edge
Of our proceedings, leave one as a Pledge
Of our return, yet see you doe not fail,
None but that Brother proves your pledges bayl.
Now conscience like a wound by time o'r-skin'd,
(Launc'd by the memory of what they'd sinn'd)
Grew to an Ulcer, which seem'd sound before,
And guilt, like Titius Vultur gripes the sore;
Crosses the Midwives to the conscience be,
From the gross womb of dull security;
As Sols fierce heat dissolves the ycic plain,
That drowns the murmur of the roaring main;
So crosses soon the frozen heart-strings thaw,
As if a flaming Hell were in the Maw,
Heart-gnawing Vultures gripes are not so fierce
As those, that do a frighted conscience pierce;
Like a fierce lightning which doth frie at once
The marrow, and incinerates the bones.
No Tyrants cruelty, nor are the phangs
Of rav'nous Beasts more horrid than those pangs,
Which now the Brethren knew, when that they felt
Their wounded hearts even in their Brests to melt;
Brethren, quoth one would we could that forget
Which doth our conscience-seared heart-strings fret,
When we (O horrid piacle inroll'd
In heavens notaries) our Brother sold,
Tyrants had wept, but we would not condole
The bitter anguish of his troubled soul;
This Curse our Brother did to us bequeath,
Whom we undoubtedly betrayd to death;
The fact was haynous, and the sin most gross,
So here is rage for rage, and cross for cross;
Me thinks, as yet, his mones do pierce my ears,
My heart drops blood, fast as his ey wept tears;
Our scourging conscience more doth tyrannize,
Than did our rage upon so weak a prize.
This said, quoth Reuben, Brethren, spake, not I
(Soon as I heard your Plot your Tragedy)
Although I fortun'd not to intervene,
When you were acting of that rigid Scene.
O spare the Child, but you prov'd to my plea
As deaf and unrelenting as the Sea;
Bondage is Bawd to death, I fear whose knise
Made quick abridgement of his tender life;
We justly bondage fear, and which is worse,
His blood may challenge blood, a greater curse,
Little the Brethren thought that their remorse
Of Conscience, their language and discourse
His Lordship understood, whose meanings were
Deliver'd them by an Interpreter;
Who now no longer could his passion smother,
But as in Tydes one wave pursues another,
Oft ceasing not, till in their rolling ranks
They drown all Barriers and fencing Banks;
So at each circumstance his passion higher
And higher swell'd, then did so high aspire,
That he retiring could not tears refrain,
But through his eyes discharg'd his troubled brain;
Who though the rain was past, would yet allow
Some frowning clouds to triumph on his Brow.
Anon quoth he returning to the room,
Your reason's woven in too thin a Loom,
To take our faith, my will by oath is seal'd,
By vow my sentence not to be repeal'd;
Since you no other evidence a lege
To prove your truth, thus will I choose my pledge;
Before them all then Simeon was bound;
Ev'n thus, quoth he, the truth I'll justly sound
Of your intents, you gain no further grace,
Unless that younger Brother see my face;
That youngest Brother only shall redeem
This Brother bound then traffick with esteem.
Why do you whisper thus? speak, if your cause
Be just demur not thus, Truth needs no pause.
Now had he charg'd the Steward of his Treasure
To fill their Sacks with Corn in bounteous measure,
To store them for the journey, and to pack
Their Money in the mouth of each mans Sack.
Their Asses loaden, now you may conceive
With humble promises they take their leave,
And lest old Jacob might through their delay
Do not lest they might prove an untimely prey
Unto some danger, lest his hopes might bleed
T'a lingring death they make the greater speed.
Now at his Inne as each his Asse did bait,
Opening their Sacks, their Money in full weight
Was in their Sacks mouth, much they did resent
With sad amazement that strange accident;
One doubted Egypts spells, another fear'd
Th'abused Medium, which another clear'd;
A third non-payment, and a fourth pursute,
But all concluded in confus'd dispute;
But all grant 'twas an act that God had wrought,
Which should b'unravel'd far beyond their thought.
Conceive them now at home, where, you may ghess,
They tell their Father of their sad success;
Dear Sir, quoth one, the Master of the Land
Dealt roughly with us, and began to brand
Us with the name of Spies, as some that aim'd
To search their weakness, which we all disclaim'd,
We humbly all our sute for Corn inferr'd
As witness of our truth, and more averr'd,
We're twelve, quoth we, and by one man begot,
The youngest is at home, and one is not;
Excuse, nor plea, could not maintain our cause,
But He th'advantage taking of that clause,
The youngest is at home, thus aim'd to prove.
Where we were such that to such ends did rove;
Quoth he, where either you speak truth, or feign,
I'll doe no more than Justice shall maintain;
Take for to nurse your houses and be gon,
And come not here without that youngest Son.
If y'have at home a Brother, as you spoke,
That labours with you under the same yoke
Of filiall duty, if you here approach
Sans him, as Spies, no doubt, you now encroach;
And that you may conceive, how far your wit
Shall fail of our suspect you to acquit,
Let one of you, here, as your Pledge reside
Till your return, so shall your truth be tri'd.
You me, quoth mourning Jacob, have beguil'd
Of Simeon now, and Joseph whilst a Child;
And think you with this slight me to supplant?
To take his Brother? This I cannot grant.
At this, quoth R [...]uben, let my Sons be slain,
If I return thy son not safe again;
Both mine I'll sacrifice unto thy rigour,
If that he come not home, in perfect vigour.
My Son, quoth Jacob, shall not hence go down
To be a prey to those of Memphis town,
The journey's dangerous, and at each pace
Death may arrest him with his Ebon Mace;
Oh be advis'd, my sons, when Joseph di'd,
My Soul neer sayl'd forth with his purple tide;
And should his Brother fail, the self same dart
Would cut the Cables of my an'chring heart,
Or weigh it from my bosomes anchorage;
Deliberate, take pitty on my age.
Now Jacobs Corn was spent, and yet this year
Small shew of future harvest did appear,
Who calling for his Children, thus began;
My Sons, quoth he, life, which some tearm a span
Dearth will t'an inch reduce, and we shall wax
(Being Famine-suck'd) as empty as our Sacks.
Again go buy some food, there's yet small hope
That th'heavens will their wonted fatness drop;
Your Brother shall take care, that while you want,
No rav'nous Beast neer to your folds shall haunt.
At this, quoth Judah, Egypts Master swore
He neither would our Brother bound restore,
Nor yet supply our wants, untill thy Son
Appeard before his face as we have done;
If he be sent we'll go; since here are graves,
Why should we hence to dy Egyptian slaves?
Quoth Iacob, why spoke you of Benjamin?
Now ill betide such an unnat'rall sin,
You might the matter with more judgement wave,
Unless you meant to hiss me to my grave.
Dear Sir, quoth they, with us He subtly dealt,
And roughly asked of us where we dwelt,
Then of our Kindred, and our Fathers life,
Then of the youngest son began the strife,
Who thought such strife would from these words arise,
The youngest is at home, through his devise?
Dear Sir quoth Iudah, if we thus divide,
We shall be guilty all of suicide,
Since, though w'are brought unto those exigents,
God to prevent our Dearth the means presents;
Of me require him, may my hopes be rackt
On all extremities, thy rage compact
With danger to o'rthrow me, may my name
Be henceforth branded with eternall shame
T'have slain my Fathers joyes, if that the Swain
Be not safe to thy Bosome brought again:
If thou hadst sent him, which thou wouldst not grant.
We now had laught with store, who weep through wan [...]
Our Sacks that now exhausted are, and empty,
Replenish'd with our care had swell'd with plenty.
Well then, quoth Jacob, since it must be so,
And that I must thus needs embrace my woe,
Goe take a Present for the man, the savour
Oft of a little brings the greatest favour.
He may your Brother from his Bonds release,
Send you replenish'd home, my Son in peace;
Take Nuts and Almonds, Myrrhe, sweet Balm, and Ho [...]
And lest there were mistakes, take double Money.
Dear Image of thy sweet deceased Mother,
Sweet relique of thy too too soon slain Brother,
By Natures secret and unknown instinct,
Thine to my cords of life, are strongly linckt
In a firm Union, soon again return,
Lest soon thy absence hiss me to my urn.
Ev'n as a friend who till his cy-strings fail.
Stands viewing of his Friend late under sayl,
As if his feet unto the shore did grow,
First points him out as small as is a crow,
The mast to th' diminution of a hair,
Till all dissolv'd are quite from that to air.
So Iacob though his Suns began to set,
And that through age almost his ey-lids met,
Long correspondence with their motion kept,
Then out of sight he turn'd his head and wept.
Omit their weary journeys tedium,
Cold fear already did their sense benumn,
For now they saw (so may your fancy prompt)
Fair Memphis, Arts chief pride, and Natures pomp▪
Who now with Country gates, and rustick greets
To the nice Citizens, knockt through their streets:
Then did they all to Joseph's Palace plod,
Each one approaching with a submissive nod;
Soon Joseph at first-sight his Brother knew,
Soon joy and fear their tears began to brew;
Then charg'd the Steward of the house to hast,
For they at night with him should take repast;
Long had they not attended, till a Groom
Conducted them into an inner room;
When Conscience to its former rigour grew,
And Fear of danger pierc'd the wound anew,
Fear made strange descants, and few could conclude
Why they, in manners rough, in habit rude,
Were used kindly thus, unless to cloak
Their close intents to seiz them, and to yoak
Them as their slaves, or how God had dispos'd
About the Money in their Sacks inclos'd.
Whereof they fearing now a rough inquest,
Themselves to Joseph's Steward thus addrest;
Sir, long it is not, since with full-stufft Sacks
We left the noise of Nilus Cataracts,
Since we t'your Master ow'd, we are not brought
(Being Dearth exhausted) to our former nought,
But fears have mixt sweet joy with sow'r conceit,
We in our Sacks our Coin found in full weight;
Of this event we often have revolv'd,
Which yet stands undetermind, unresolv'd;
Pitty with casuall errors oft dispenseth,
While cruelty mistakes, as fauls commenceth;
Unless we much mistook, our money weigh'd
In equall ballances we truly pay'd,
Yet that we payd it, we will not aver,
For memory is frail, and we may erre,
But faults are lost i'th' name of Innocence,
Since what e'r hap'ned'twas not meant offence;
Deceit could not advantage, since we knew
We shortly must our former sute renew,
Great Sir 'twas no imposture, for, What stranger
Is so fool-hardy as to play with danger?
Then here accept your due, and grant our sute
On like Conditions for a new recruit.
Sirs, quoth the Steward, to remove your terrour,
There was no false deceit, nor casuall errour,
I had your coin, nor will deserve the curse
To take th'advantage on a strangers purse;
I had good weight, as you had bounteous measure,
Then traffique with esteem, and trade at pleasure;
Your God, your Fathers God, whom you adore
Did each mans Money in his Sack restore;
None shall your persons hurt, your state impair,
Our actions, like your faces, shall be fair;
And you (his Lordship seldome grants this boon)
Must at my Masters table dine at noon;
Half all mens hearts are His, mil'd courtesie,
That wins each heart, sits smiling in his eye.
As token that his Lordship thus was pleas'd,
Their Brother Simeon was straight releas'd,
Who, unattended with a ridgid Mace,
Was now saluted with a glad embrace;
Now were a little of their fears suspended,
And they to Joseph's House were all attended;
One brought in water with a courteous greet,
To wash their journey-dirt-bedaubed feet,
One drest their Asses, in officious duty,
Another shew'd the Palace and its beauty;
All which, thus shew'd so far beyond their merits
They rather thought dreams of their troubled spirits
Than reall objects, now they 'gan to shape
Them in their best attire, anew to ape
The seemliest postures, how they might present
The Token with a grace their Father sent,
Then all of Table courtesie combine,
Because they heard they with the Lord should dine.
Gladly did Joseph his affairs prorogue,
Now were deferr'd the needy Catalogue,
Imagine him returned to his house,
Where they with humble thanks, with hearty vowes,
In great submission prostrate on their face,
Tender their Fathers Present to his Grace.
Sirs, quoth his Lordship, if I erre not much
You are the same, or very like to such
Whom I as Spies suspected, if y'are ttue,
Present that youngest Brother to my view;
Oft-times hath Phoebus wheel'd about his teem,
Yet you ne'r came to gain your lost esteem,
And yet, I fear, the day is yet to dawn.
Wherein you will redeem again your Pawn.
Sir (quoth they, crouching) we at length have won
Our wary Father for to send his Son,
Our former callow hopes again are fledge.
That you to freedome will restore our pledge.
As yet quoth Joseph, doth that old man breath?
Hath Fate not yet betray'd him unto death?
Is death yet retrograde? hath yet your God
Unto your Famine set a period?
Great Sir, quoth they, our Father yet doth breath
Through heav'n and you, but no triumphant wreath
Of full-ear'd Harvest crowns the Husbands brows,
Nor one smali Sheaf doth answer all our vowes;
Our Father lives, though not with wonted heat
His heart with healthy vigour yet doth beat;
As yet he lives, unless his life be spun
To th'utmost thread, through absence of his Son;
By us he beggs you, Sir, (though we are rude,
And though of language indigest and crude)
This present as the Interest t'accept
Of a more vast, and far immense a debt;
Is this, quoth Joseph, he of whom I sware,
That being owes, and life to the same care,
Of the same Sire with you? they, on their knee
Falling submissively, say this is he.
Let God, quoth Joseph from his bounteous treasure
Showr on thee blessings in a gracious measure;
I now my Censure willingly revoke,
Gladly release your brother from this yoak,
Untill your miserie be retrograde,
You shall b'admitted here in peace to trade.
Y'are proof enough, y'are of an honest tribe,
What doth this Present mean? I ruth needs no bribe.
Scarce could he Passion check, which would eruct
What he would have concealed, scarce obstruct
His tears, which now like billowes rais'd by wind,
Disdain'd within their cells to be confind;
Which lest too soon they might excell his power
He stept aside, and wept a plenteous shower;
Thrice had he wash'd his face, but tears did rise
Too great a chanell for his conduit-eyes,
And he must stay their weeping, the extent
Of his large cells had too too small a vent:
Thrice, had he lockt his door, but all in vain;
For through the flood-gates broke the silver rain;
Thrice, he in Passion, as he past the stair,
Did for his Brother hug the empty air:
Then must return, for tears again did trace
Their rivulets upon his blubber'd face:
Scarce could he with his Passion take a truce,
Scarce could he stop his tear-betraying sluce;
His reeking cheeks, like Roses rain-bedasht,
Imagin from their stains at length were washt;
When Passions close recluse at length came down,
With looks importing, nor a smile nor frown,
None there despaired, through a stern reflect,
None by his pleasant looks might him suspect;
At his command the Table strait was spread;
The Dainties usher'd by a grim death head;
Where Joseph by himself was serv'd in state;
His honour had no rivall, knew no mate:
And Egypt 'mongst all of the Universe,
With th' Hebrews might not eat, and scarce commerse.
Now as each Brothers age excell'd in date
Of years, each one above another sate;
The eldest was not Lord, nor th' young'st his Page,
But each took place according to his age;
To whom his Lordship sent to each a dish,
And so surpast at once, desert and wish;
And as, though clouds shrowd Titans golden ray,
Through them, unseen, he doth dispense the day;
So Joseph, though thus strange, yet did dispense
Kind welcome through his favours influence;
As oft the Sun doth through those vapours pierce
That shrowd his beauty from the Universe
So through his austere strangeness, oft there shin'd
Beams of unwonted favour, while they din'd,
On Benjamin, though few the cause could ghesse,
Why he was served with a five fold messe.
And though his Lordship by no means could brook
Excess his Butler, Luxurie his Cook,
No Kickshawe wanting was, nor Courtly cate,
Which they enjoy'd in peace and jolly chat.
Now heav'n through grief of losing Phoebus light
In mourning darkness entertain'd the night;
And stars like to obsequious Tapors shin'd,
As if lamenting that their Lord declin'd;
When Joseph charg'd the Steward of his Corn
With early care t'anticipate the morn;
Yer sleep the Howlets watchfull sense benum'd.
Birds chirp their morning peals, or Beetle hum'd;
In plenteous sort to fill each Brothers Sack,
Till ev'n they did with swelling plenty crack;
To give them for their journey and restore
In each ones Sack his Money as before;
And in the youngest Brothers Sack to knit
His silver Cup, Love's waited on by wit.
Soon as Aurora wept her dewy drops,
And jocund day peer'd on the mountain tops,
The carefull Brethren kindly were dismist,
And when departing Sol the morn had kist,
His Lordship sent his Steward on pursute
Of the late strangers to their charge t'impute
T'have stoln his Lordships Cup, and thus to gloss
With harsh expressions on a fault so gross;
That if his Lordships late unwonted care
Wrought no impression, yet how they did dare
T'abuse him thus, whose power like the Kings
Could reach far off like wide-stretcht Dragons wings?
That not deliberation could of time
Nor close evasions excuse this crime;
That 'twas the Cup by which his Lord divin'd,
No weak conjecture of a doubtfull mind.
This spoke, that by this means he might reduce
Them, on pretence to answer this abuse,
The carefull Steward this command discharg'd,
And wisely on the premises enlarg'd;
Soon like a biting frost this fierce arrest,
Nipt all the hopes that budded on their crest;
Great Sir, quoth they why speaks my Lord these words?
They of our hearts dissect the tender cords;
God, who Heaven rules, and Hells infernall vault,
Knows we are innocent, free from this fault,
Fearing mistakes, we brought again our Coin,
Why should we Gold or Silver then purloin?
Wee'll this offence not with pretences gild,
Truth needs no colour, let his blood be swill'd
By the severest Justice at a sup,
With whomsoe'r is found his Lordships Cup.
Well, quoth the Steward, as you say, I'll deal,
Your words are just, and I to them appeal,
With whomsoe'r his Lordships Cup is found.
Ev'n as you spoke, he shall my slave be bound;
But yee shall all be free through innocence,
Since each must answer for his own offence;
At this each willingly his Sack unknit,
While each one sought himself for to acquit,
The Cup was found knit in the young'st his Sack,
At which ev'n all their ey-strings seem'd to crack,
So stars as sham'd of day I've seen to wink,
So have I seen the Snail being hit, to shrink
Within his shelly penthouse, and now fail'd
Their eyes, as sudden grief their ey-balls veil'd.
What should they say? for to deny the deed
Did seem a shift weak as a Nilus reed
Which would both fail and hurt them, should they lie,
What should they do? who like a late-spawn'd frie
In the wild Sea, were subject to the prey
Of every greater fish, ev'n so seem'd they.
Sad Beniamin spar'd neither vowes nor oaths
To back his innocence, each rent his cloathes
And back in grief returned to the City
Submissively to crave his Lordships pitie.
Guess them return'd, to them the Lord begun,
What deed is this, quoth he, that you have done?
I gave you Wine, for which my Cup you stole,
Thought you I had not a divining Soul?
The fact is evident, then cease to quilt
A web of specious lies upon your guilt,
This aggravates what I of late suspected;
Heav'n will not you should thus passe undetected.
Great Sir, quoth they, you justly may upbraid
Us with your love, we justly are betrayd,
The fact is clear, what shall we then allege
To clear our selves? and who shall be our pledge?
Wee scarce have blood in all our veins, great Lord,
Enough to stain your Vice-revenging sword;
Creat Sir, we beg if bondage expiates,
Our Crime, then mercy rules among the Fates?
Nay, quoth the Lord, my heart's not Adamant,
No rocky Isle where such like Furies haunt,
Nor hath my Soul so liquorish a gust
That nought but blood can satiate her lust,
Mercy, and Justice, here, are neer a kin,
Our mercy here's still greater than the sin;
Think, I have pitty on your Fathers age,
Nor will enslave you all in vassalage,
I'll onely recompence upon that Youth
That had my Cup, bonds, for his breach of truth.
No sore-tormenting Probe unto the quick
More deeply searcht a wound, nor of the sick
No launcet hit more sure the master-vein,
Than did his Lordships words pierce through each swain,
Who ever thus, in tearms accutely coucht
Rub'd on the matter they would have untoucht;
Some beg'd, some wept, and some confus'dly mutter'd,
Some indigested resolutions utter'd,
At last, quoth Judah, humbly on his knee,
Great Sir, yet what you spake your vow decree,
Let not your anger flame, that I, so rude
In language, and in habit, thus intrude;
You ask'd when first wee hither did repair,
Doth yet your Father breath the common air?
Have you alive a Brother more at home?
Our speech in devious falshoods did not come,
But kept truths rode, quoth we, Our Father's old,
Half wearied Fate doth yet her distaff hold,
We have a Brother more, a youthfull page,
Whom He esteems the comfort of his age,
His Fathers joy, since his deceased Brother,
The onely Son of his expired mother;
And since our Father's old, and lame, and dim,
He only walks, and breaths, and sees in him;
Then saidst thou, as a witness of your truth,
Bring down your Brother, let me see the youth;
Great Sir, quoth we, our Brother stands between
Death and our Fathers lamp as th'only screen;
And He remov'd our Sires declining snuff
Would soon b'extinguisht by some envious puff;
Yet saidst thou to thy servants, bring the Child,
If that you will we shall be reconcil'd;
All this we to our Father did rehearse,
With the proceedings of our last commerce;
Our Corn exhausted there was long dispute
'T wixt Want and Nature, we renew'd our sute
To him to send our brother, and at large
Importunately urg'd your Lordships charge;
So, quoth our father, were I most forlorn;
By Rachaell I had two children born,
Whereof one parting hence, became a feast
(Ay me!) I fear unto some rav'nou, Beast,
With whom fled half my life, then leave his Brother,
'Twere Paricide to take away the other;
O think, my sons, should you remove the prop
That stayes my age, I in my grave should drop;
Were there a Chrystall window in each Brest,
We know no more than what we have confest;
Now should we home, and leave his son behind,
As with Prophetick doubts his fear divin'd,
Both hope and life would fail him, should I know
That I my self were the unhappy Bow,
Through whom false death aim'd her remorsless dart
To the true mansion of my Fathers heart,
What should I do? that shall both guilty seem,
Both of my Brothers loss, and death of him;
I to my Sire was surety for the youth,
Have pitty on his age, and on my truth.
When death, quoth I, my lamp of life shall quench,
May my good name dy in a noysome stench;
And with like vows I heaven did implore,
If I his son not safely did restore;
Then if my Lord please to reverse his doom,
I'd gladly serve bound in my Brothers room;
Great Sir, be pleas'd t'admit me in exchange,
I'd weary cruelty, and mock revenge,
I'd count deaths sentence but an idle breath,
Yer I'd seem guilty of my Fathers death.
Good Sir, have pitty, I would dare to meet
A Thunderbolt wrapt in a lightning sheet,
Yet I'd provoke a Fathers angry gall,
Since Parents curses are Propheticall.
As a new tun'd Cask of unpurged Wine;
Wind pris'ned in the earth, or like a Mine,
The one, if clos'd, will make a furious vent;
The other break forth in a thundring rent;
Such were his Lordships tears, such was his joy,
Which Passion though it long seem'd strange and coy,
And fickle in the wooing, th'end did prove
In it was coucht a Brothers tender love,
Which he no more was able to resist,
Than the quick pulse that thumpt within his wrist;
And joy, like wind impris'ned in the earth,
Will shake th'hearts center but 'twill have a birth.
Now since he could no longer thus contest,
H'intended secretly t'unlock his breast,
Shame, that's sins daughter, wer't not for this care
Might here have prov'd the mother of despair;
Open reproofs, like an impetuous rain,
Do wash away, but not refresh the grain.
Now would he think to speak, and then retreat,
Then on the prize his heart a charge would beat,
And though the cause, as yet, obscurely slept,
Yet Pharaohs servants heard him while he wept;
At last he thus began, I Joseph am;
Is th' Oyl yet spent that fed my Fathers flame?
This on the porches of their ears he beat,
But all in vain, that sense had left her seat.
And with the eyes, by horrour scattered,
Had to the brain as an Asylum fled;
Yet being the kingly hearts chief centinells,
He by degrees dismist them from their cells:
For sense-bereaving horrors are like lees,
Which being once stirr'd, will sinke, but by degrees.
Now, when they something had expell'd their fears,
Hee with these speeches board anew their ears,
I am your brother Joseph whom you sold;
Is yet my Father 'mongst th'alive inroll'd?
Come neer, and see, I have no false reserves,
Come, on this visage spend your visive nerves,
I am the same as when you took my coat,
Though chang'd in hiew, and of a rougher throat,
Though heav'n have chang'd my Fortune, years my stature,
Nor time hath chang'd my love, nor clime my nature.
Fear not, the fact though gross, shall not be blaz'd,
'Tis from the book of my remembrance rac'd,
Then judge your selves not rashly, bless the deed,
For I was promis'd to preserve your seed,
Two years are past, wherein remorsless dearth,
Hath knit the bowels of the teeming earth,
And yet these five years Nile in vain shall flowe,
The Husband-man in vain shall plough and sow;
Like a true Alchimist hath providence,
Drawn Honey from the Poyson of offence;
You sold, God sent me hither, heav'n be blest,
That turn'd your very sin unto the best;
Hast then, with winged swiftness, and infuse
Fresh spirits in our Father with this news,
Say thus, saith Joseph, whom thou thoughtst to be
Seal'd in the bosome of eternity;
Thus saith thy Son, who, by the common vogue,
Was thought one of grim deaths large catalogue;
Thus saith our Brother, here I am ador'd
As Pharaohs Father, and all Egypts Lord,
Come down, thou with thy house, thy heards, and flocks,
Time limps away, methinks, with leaden socks
Untill thou come, accept of my advice,
Thine shall be Goshen Egypts Paradise;
Let no delay this thy descent prorogue,
Lest Famine in a fatall Epilogue
End thee, and thine; come, that with my Protection
I in some sort may answer thy affection.
The Sun five times shall pass through all his Inns,
Till dearth shall fully expiate our sins;
Mean while descend, and of my store partake;
Since heav'n by me prepar'd it for thy sake.
Hast for your own sakes, that I may refresh.
And cloath your naked bones with tender flesh;
My words and actions have not divers centers,
Both end in one, but if upon the tenters
This stretch your faith, beside the foretold signs
Observe this visage and its wonted lines;
Sweet Benjamin, blest were th' Astrologers,
If as I know these eyes, they knew the Starrs;
If so, though all events be closely seal'd,
No doubt the future should be all reveal'd.
His Lordships speeches were no sooner ended,
But he and Benjamin together blended
Themselves in close embraces, both did lie
Entwined like the Zodiacks Gemini;
As if they meant, lest we again should part,
Come, by the strings let's knit each others heart;
Their eyes now pay'd their long-retained debt,
Each on anothers neck entwined wept;
That done, the rest with sweet inviting phrases
He even wearied in his close embraces;
Then kist them all, and Chorus-like enquir'd
Again, is not my Father yet expir'd?
God will be su'd to, who no other task
Imposeth on our wants, but this, to ask;
And though he seem long in majestick pause,
Not onely not to hear, but slight our cause,
'Tis but to edge devotion, to inhance
His Grace upon our Souls before he grants;
All distance then is chang'd to an imbrace,
Wrath falleth as a Vizzard from his face,
He not defers, nor his affection smothers,
Nor doth disdain at all to call us Brothers;
As one that dreams he's falling from a steep
And tow'ring precipice into the deep,
Awaking finds himself free from such harms,
And taking safe repose in friendly arms:
Such were the Brethrens fears, and sad extremes,
Which now did seem but fancies and vain dreams,
When Joseph in their Passions Extasie
Reviv'd their senses from their Lethargie;
With sundry Passions were at once their minds
Like a Ship tost 'twixt two opposing winds;
Now would they joy, then grief, by shame being backt,
Their new resolved greetings would distract;
The tears from divers springs seem'd to proceed,
Which they not so much seem'd to weep, as bleed;
Within their brain two floods at once arose,
Of joy, and grief, as when two Seas oppose;
Some wept, some weeping smil'd, like Aprils weather,
Which rains, then shines, then rains and shines together.
Now were they all resolved to regreet
Their Brothers courtesie, but as a fleet
Which comming neer the harbour, back is thrust
Into the Ocean by some angry gust,
Shame would retard intention, some would smother
In silent whispering the name of Brother;
Glad Reuben though he gave to God the glory,
Yet blest perswasion, and his oratory,
And Judah though he sold him, yet was bold
To say he joy'd, though griev'd he thus was sold.
Now they confest his Dreams no vain Phantasms,
But heav'nly, and inspir'd Enthusiasms,
Their Sheaves and Stars had bow'd, the sawcy Boy
Was now their Lord, and Egypts chief Vice-roy;
Glad Benjamin admiring the results
Of their immanity, thus now exults,
A Brother lost, and found, is worth like mirth,
As if you joyed at a Brothers birth;
Come then let's triumph, for who could expect
From this so bad a cause so good effect?
To hear the Lord speak; how he was re-sold,
How often fashion'd in afflictions mold,
His Chastity, which with a full mouth'd blast
Shall fill Fames trump as long as time shall last,
How he ran Chance as blind as ever painted,
Yet he by adoration thus was Sainted
In mens opinions, would make a dint,
And deep impression in hearts of flint;
For joy some swounded, and each circumstance
Of each relation struck them in a trance,
Each passage made each minutes time the mother
Of some new joy so one joy crown'd another;
Had th'whole world seen each act, heard each rehearsall,
No doubt the joy had here been Universall.
T'express the triumph fully would extort
Descriptions treasury, undoe report.
Now tell-tale Fame hath with a nimble wing
Proclam'd these tidings to the Court, and King,
Who thus to Joseph, placed next his Throne,
We to thy Fathers care, thy Mothers grone,
All owe our lives, nay more, for to him seeng
Thou being ow'st, we owe him all well being;
Now since he liveth, and the fatall Star
That blasts our Kingdomes plenty, spreads so far
Her fatall influence as Canaans clime,
Send for thy Father, on our Souls this crime
Shall not write guilt, that He amidst our store
Should faint, whom for thee, all are bound t'adore;
To Him alone for thee all Egypts bound
So deep, more than conceit hath line to sound;
Thy duty shall joyn issue with my will,
Since his one life exceeds the num'rous Bill
So far, that daily doth attend our gates,
As doth one Phoenix life whole clouds of Gnats;
Thus by thy Brethren say, wee, youth, and dotage,
Both lofty Palace, and the lowly cotage,
Owe thee, the Father of a Son so blest,
More than by Hieroglyhick can b'exprest;
Thus saith the King, let not thy thoughts be gravell'd
In doubts, thy Joseph who my Dreams unravell'd,
Which all our Sophies did in vain examine,
Shall nourish, and protect thee in this famine.
Which though it have set limits to my wish,
And scarcity doth season every dish,
Delay not thy descent: for thou deservests
The greatest measure of our sev'n years Harvests.
This to thy Brethren say, go take the best
That Egypt yeelds, and lead each man his beast,
Since that remorslesse dearth to death proscribes
Your aged Father and his hopefull tribes,
Think Egypts King for Joseph's sake deplores
Your empty Wine-presses and threshing-floores;
Go, bring your Father down, if Egypts Map.
Have land whose poares breath a more vigo'rous sap
Than this, that is more fertile and more pleasant,
Come down, none shall resist thee, Peer nor Peasant;
This say, and for thy Fathers ease take Waggons,
And for thy Brethren, spare no sprightly Flaggons
To ratifie their welcome, since with them
Thou art a Branch sprung from the self same stem.
Glad Joseph was that Pharaoh's thus inclin'd
To what before he had himself design'd;
Envy could not upbraid his want of love,
So much he did the means, and time improve,
Scarce Morpheus could at all betray his sense,
But care would counter-charm His influence,
When bright Hyperion mounted Phlegons back,
He gave command to fill each Brothers Sack,
To all he gave provision, lest the length
Of the large journey, should exceed their strength;
To each (remitting their unnat'rall quarrell)
He bounteousty gave changes of apparell;
To Benjamin, besides five change of rayment,
Three hundred silverlings in courteous payment;
To Jacob thus, a choice Viaticum,
And to reward his Mirrhe, Spice, Balm, and Gumm,
Ten Asses load of those best things, in which
Egypt is held most happy, and most rich,
And ten she Asses load of Corn; close thrist
Seems base, where princely duty walls a gift.
Their Asses ready, and their justling Waggons,
Lest that our Joseph's (should like Cadmus Dragons
Fierce teeth-sprung Brethren) when they fail'd in words,
Dispute the matter with their angry swords,
While each one to acquit himself attempted,
Who from that former rage was most exempted,
At least, they might expect to be surpriz'd,
The lot of quarr'ling strangers not advis'd,
As a small Fleet, who, in a forreign Sea,
While each ship would maintain a private plea,
And rudely mutiny amongst themselves,
Is sunk, surpriz'd, or dasht against some shelves;
For fear of which events you may conjecture,
Ioseph thus to his brethren reads this lecture;
You may remember, but I wish that it
You could so soon forget, as I remit,
When you conspired my destruction,
As if your hearts were gravell'd into stone,
Or rib'd with steel, congeal'd t'an Iron mass,
Yet though your Bowells thus were cramt with Brass,
Mine now are soft with pitty, may you find.
As here of body, alway peace of mind;
Confession cancells all, and I accept
Acknowledgement, as if you pai'd the debt;
Your pardon is with many favours seal'd,
Which time shall ne'r see cancel'd, age repeal'd;
For which grant this one favour, 'tis but one,
That you forget the wrong that you have done,
I, in oblivion have lai'd it deep,
Then dig't not up again, but let it sleep;
Both for your Fathers, mine, your safeties sake,
Drink, to it all a draught of Laethes Lake;
Take my example, 'twas I had the wrong,
'Tis I that for your reconcilement long;
Since I forgive it, in dissentious sort
Do not one on another it retort?
Dissent not in the way, lest that you teach
Strangers to take advantage on the breach;
Advise with Policie, if not with Love;
Nay, with the Serpent, if not with the Dove;
Serpents will not sting Serpents, nor will crush
The Cockatrices egg, then Brethren blush,
That Reason's law to that of sense subscribes,
Should Brethren quarr'll with Brethren, Tribes with Tribes?
With such advice as This, you may suppose
Our carefull Ioseph did his farewell close.
Ev'n thus our Saviour yer his last he breath'd,
Peace, his last Legacy, to his bequeath'd;
Who, if he now should come, would look to find
Us, as he left us, of a peacefull mind;
And if both Poles did now to ruine reel,
Did th'world its pangs of dissolution feel,
Would he not find, adherents did increase
More to the Prince of discord than of peace?
While that old Iacob fervently did burn
In expectation of his Son's return,
Ghesse them come home, who to their Father thus,
The Sum of their proceedings did discuss;
Dear Sir, you causelesly accus'd Fates knife
To have bereft thy Ioseph of his life;
Unless that she again have knit his cord,
For hee yet liveth and's great Egypts Lord.
My Sons, quoth he, my Meditation chewes,
And dubiously doth ruminate your newes,
O be advised, when my Ioseph di'd
My tears stow'd high, ev'n at their highest tide
But if you mock my grief, I drown in tears,
My heart of Ioseph an impression bears
Too deep to be forgot, inhaunce not grief,
Lest you incur a Curse, not win belief.
Dear Sir, quoth they, what's by these Waggons meant
There's twenty Asses load that he hath sent
As dutious Pledges? those our change of cloaths,
But if these fail, believe us on our oaths.
So now, quoth he, these evidences draw
My Faith as strong, as Vouchers do in Law;
Speak thick till th'vapours of your breath condense
Ev'n to the smoth'ring of my hearing sense;
I've surfeited with sorrow, but this joy
Is so transcendent, it can never cloy,
My soul would hence, and leave her truth behind,
How she disdaineth thus to be confind!
My senses seem too weak to hinder her,
But she would hence my winged harbinger;
O for some Eagles pinions, or some Dragons
With wide-stretcht wings to waft along our Waggons;
Their motions are too dull, O would their wheeles
Were swift as Titans, or the slippery Keeles
Which with a Sphear-tike swiftness cut their way
Through the wide Bosome of the yesty Sea;
I'll down and see my Son, and yeeld my breath
In Jos [...]ph's bosome, and then welcome death.
Conceive him on his journey, with his train,
When in the Visions of the night, his brain
Receiv'd the Ordinance of Pharaoh's love
Confirmed to an act from heav'n above;
And seal'd with promises that God would bless
This his removall with a good success;
And with assurance that he had decreed
The safe returning of his num'rous seed,
Guesse Judah likewise sent for to direct
His Fathers face to Goshen, then reflect
Your thoughts on Joseph, who you now may gather
In gallant equipage did meet his Father,
Imagine with what triumph at the last
Earth-rending sound, and tomb-dividing blast,
The widdow'd Soul will welcome the return
Of her dear Body from the sleepy urn;
With such like joy, your fancy may admit,
Were Joseph and his Father sweetly knit
In twin'd embraces, as if they each other
Would cramp in chained arms, or meant to smother
Each other in their kisses; hast thou ever,
Beheld a Gardner while he did discover
Two sprigs asunder, then to joyn by craft
Two divers parts in one entired graft;
Ev'n thus was Jacob twined with his Son,
As if they meant to grow again in one;
Iacob could onely with glad tears dispute;
For as great sorrow's dumb, great joy is mute;
Ev'n so did Joseph, at his Brethrens sight
His eyes but drizled, now they rain'd down-right;
For tears are badges both of joy and sorrow,
Both Passions do alike the visage furrow;
Dear God, quoth I acob, then in num'rous chace
Tears pursue tears upon his reeking face
Blest heav'n that alwayes thus dost me restore,
Unless 'twere heav'n I could wish no more;
Sweet Son, I know these eyes, this rosie cheek,
That thus in dutious tears doth sweetly reek,
Since yet thou liv'st, Fate finish out my glome,
And let my Soul on wings of joy fly home,
But yet, my darling Son, great heav'n forgive,
If I for thee do yet desire to live;
My tears shall tell the rest, my lungs are weak,
If not, I know not what I more shall speak.
Sir, quoth his Son (then tears in a full stream
Choakt the proceedings of his dutious theam)
Dear Sir, my swelling Brest will burst a sunder,
Like wind-swoll'n Clouds rent by the heavens thunder,
My mouth a vessell of a narrow bore,
That must by slow degrees vent forth its store,
Though pay I cannot what your love deserves,
Yet to requite I'll stretch my utmost nerves,
Since Seas repay, through crannies of the earth,
Streams to the Springs from whence they had their birth,
Then why should Chilkren if advanc'd by Fate,
Neglect their Parens in a meaner state?
But yet I boast not, that my power is such,
But joy, I'ave means t'express my love so much;
Though heav'n have freed me from the slavish yoak
Of heavy bondage, that he hath not broke
Of filiall duty, this that thus doth deck
With gawdy Ornament my gorgeous neck,
I count less honour, than that dutious bond
In which I serve thee; do not then despond;
I Father am to Pharaoh, but will be
A true, observant, dutious Son to thee;
No bleer-ey'd sorc'rers, nor Egyptian Weirds
Shall hurt your persons, wrong your Flocks or Herds,
Thy crown of silver hairs I'll ever hold
In greater honour, than his Crown of gold;
Honours null not relation, th'Oceans flood
Alters not Nilus, nor can honour, blood,
It tickles oft the temper with conceits,
But as for me, honour on duty waits;
I' [...]l goe before, and as your true Attorney
Possess the King of your intents and journey;
My Father, and his houshold, flocks and droves,
Have late left Palestinu's Sun-parcht groves,
And down are come, whose cognizance of old,
Both was, and is, a sheephook and a fold,
Which should his Grace demand, speak, I beseech,
According to the tenour of my speech,
And since th' Egyptians ever entertain
A Shepheard, both with fury and disdain,
You may in Goshen safely live, and trade,
Where for your Flocks are Pastures, Wells and Shade.
And thus you may, if thus you wisely deal,
Instate your selves in Egypts Common-weal.
When Love with Policy had thus conspir'd,
Imagine Ioseph to his charge retir'd,
Where he without a dilatory pause,
Thus to his Sovereign, pleads his Fathers Cause;
Dread Sir, what am I? a dead dogg, or flea?
That thou shouldst grant my sute, or hear my plea?
Who first thy favours didst to me impart,
And then lookst on me worthy of desert,
To all which wouldst thou adde this one request,
I'd count it greater far than all the rest;
My Father, and my Brethren late are come,
And have left Canaan their native home,
Their stomachs bark for food, their bodies lean,
Their looks are meager, and their teeth are clean,
And Dearth more fierce than either Wolf or Fox,
Hath from the Pastures scarr'd their Heards and Flocks,
Which with them they have brought, and all to prove
The promis'd bounty of his princely love,
That while Dearth falls unto her lowesteb,
Their threads of life may to a peacefull web
Of safety here be spun, whose hearts do pant
In expectation of thy Princely grant.
This ended, quoth the King, My darling Prince,
I rather will inlarge, than basely mince
My promise to evasions, I applaud
Thy filiall love, nor power shall, nor fraud,
Oppose, or circumvent you, no, my gem,
I love the Branch, nor will neglect the stem;
Since I sent for him, he and his affairs
Held room in equall with my choicest ears.
Joseph triumphing at these blest events,
Five of his Brethren to his Grace presents,
To whom, quoth Pharaoh, by what labours sweat
Have you your sustenance, are cloath'd, and eat?
Do you the Sullow hold, or tug the Oars?
What trade expells your vigour through your poars?
Dread Sir, quoth they, we are but simple worms,
Or such like creatures of despised forms;
Yet not to grate thy ears with vain digression,
Ours, and our Fathers trade, is by succession
To feed our Flocks, and so by carefull thrift
Our providence enlargeth heavens gift;
We feed them, they feed us, and lest we freeze
In Winter time, they cloath us with their fleece;
When Phoebus first displayes his golden locks,
We send abroad our Heards, dismiss our flocks,
And while he chears the world, with carefull hook
We them protect, defend, and overlook;
And when the Sun again withdrawes his gold
From th'Western hills, we pin them in our fold;
We are by famine from our homes divorc'd
No idle vagrants, but are sadly forc'd;
We [...] in vain for Springs, our Wells are sunk
Down to the Center, and our Earth is shrunk
And bak'd to stony clods, whose chaps in vain
Gape for the showers of refreshing rain;
Now we intreat thee in this time of Dearth,
That art the onely Father of the earth,
Let us in Goshen live, where both are Rocks
Fi [...] for our Goats, and Pasture for our flocks;
We'll in the Land not plant our selves, nor build,
But sojourn in our Tents as strangers should,
We'll all b [...] [...]uled by thy Country lawes,
And with our labours feed our hungry maws;
At [...]his, quoth Pharoah, Sirs, do not despond,
To such it were no weakness to be fond;
Your Brother makes you nigh as if each vein
Swell'd with [...]igh blood, and of a nobler grain;
Nature none equalls unto me in blood,
Who shall partake more freely of our food,
Then shall your Father, and your selves, I grant
You may in Egypt freely build and plant;
This said, thus unto Joseph he insists,
Dear Joseph, I, my Peers, and princely Priests,
Thy Fathers comming do congratulate,
And likewise with thee, all condole his Fate,
Yet though the Sun shoot forth his scorching beams,
The air distill gross dewes, and rotten streams,
Our Fields forbear to spring, our Trees to bud,
And Nile desist to yeeld his fruitfull mud;
As if the Skies, had with the earth combind,
To act the ruine of all humane kind;
My Genius tell me, and I more than hope
Thy Fathers, and each Brother Horoscope,
With kinder aspect, happier things foretold,
And that 'tis in Fates Notaries inroll'd,
That Egypt is design'd (without dispute)
Their safe Asyle, from Famines fierce pursute:
All Egypt is before thee, if our Land
Have any part untouch'd by Famines band
Of scourging plagues, as Goshen most is known,
Let them possess that Country as their own,
They shall not be as Meteors for a time
Exhal'd, but as fix'd Stars in Egypts clime:
And if thou knowst one fit to feed my Herd,
Let him unto that Office be prefer'd.
This said, old Jacob by his carefull Sonne
Was brought, and placed neer to Pharaohs Throne;
Where, having breathed on the King, and Peers,
A blessing both of Peace, and many years,
Grave, Sir, quoth Pharoah, we our thanks retort,
And welcome thy descent unto our Court;
Thy dutious Son was for his Father zealous,
I and my Peers, were of thy safety jealous,
Lest Famine having draind our Fields, and Cells,
Should leave you, like so many barks and shells,
Sans coar, or kernell, cease thou to request,
Live boldly on thy Joseph's Interest.
Who sees the Sun, but reason wills for shame
To praise the Author of that glorious flame?
And who survives his neighbour in those dayes
Who for the Son will not the Father praise?
Thou hast a Son whom all the world must prize,
Less worth hath been ador'd with Sacrifice;
An Angell sent from heav'n, could not have done
More than preserv'd us all, so hath thy Son;
'T was he, that when all Charmers were nonplust,
Inchanters all were dumb, my Dreams discust,
All Sorcery as husht, now with their Spells
Let them recruit their Garners, and their Cells;
Astrologie's undone, now let them dine
On joynts of Taurus, or some empty signe;
I'll make no nice enquiries, I have had
A full rehearsall of thy life and trade.
Thus thou wouldst speak, but I anticipate
Thy sad complainings, which would thus debate;
That as Deucalions flood drown'd all the Earth,
Some fear lest it dispeopled be by dearth;
That your Earths chaps yawn like so many graves
To swallow you, unless that plenty saves,
That Famine's grown a Monster of huge stature,
Which not with few content, exacts on Nature;
Since plenty, as if Bankrupt of her store,
Keeps private house in Egypt, you implore
Thy Joseph being her Steward, she would daign
T'accept thee, and thy sons, amongst her train;
I'll not impose upon thy lungs a task
Of large, long-winded answers, but this ask
Since Nature in thee fails, thy eyes decline,
And in thy two-leav'd Spheres withdrawes their shine;
And each decaying part doth seem to crave
With bended ham of ev'ry land a grave;
How long was't since thy Souls inspired flame
Possession took of this declining frame?
Dread Sir, quoth Jacob, rudeness, are, and age
Unfit to act upon a Kingly stage,
A hundred, and full thirty years I've seen,
Both few, and evill, all my dayes have been;
Nor have I yet attained to the age
Of my fore-Fathers in their Pilgrimage;
Though I am antient, I may truly say
Sorrow, as well as age, hath made me gray,
'Tis grief postdates my time, which 'twere but vain
To think that joy can antidate again:
An ounce of grief emacerates the flesh
More than a pound of joy can it refresh,
Sol sooner may regrade his morning track,
Than joy can change this gray to youthfull black;
If I've a Son, whom all, of all degrees,
From those that fry, ev'n unto those that freeze,
Under their Zones, are bound to praise, and love,
Impute it not as his, but Gods above;
Let not the Husbandman give to the clod
That glory, which is onely due to God;
Yet if his merit be so much, and more
Than he can be made Bankrupt of, w'implore
That you would lay it, (if our charge surmount
Your expectation) on my Sons account.
This said, again on them he blessings breath'd,
And them, departing, to his God bequeath'd;
And glad he brought his wishes to this close
Resigns himself as Joseph should dispose.
Ghess him in Goshen next, where he immerds
The fruitfull Pastures, with his Flocks and Heards;
I'th' Land of Ramisses he liv'd, a soyl
Which Famine could not of its vigour spoyl;
And though it laught not, now, with kinds of grains,
It smil'd with Pastures to delight our Swains.
To him by Joseph all respect was shown;
No Manumissive Corbon yet was known
To Supersedeas a Son, for he
Still gave, yet ne'r esteem'd himself as free;
No, though he cherish'd had his age, as long
As He by him was nourish'd being young;
For filiall dutie's Gods command, no Bull
Can it repeal, no Vote can change, or null,
No wit, or art reverse it, no mans joint
Carv'd it, 'twas sculptur'd by his fingers point
That publish'd it by thunder, and His bolt
Or worse, shall vengeance take on their revolt
That dare oppose it, for they who explode
Duty to Parents, next will theirs to God.
Old Jacobs Cells were stor'd with Wine, and Corn,
As full and free, as was that plenteous Horn
Jove gave his Nurse, ev'n such was Joseph's love
Unto his Father, great as that of Iove;
Nor time, nor charge could dull it, even so
Wells if you draw them, will the freer flow.
Nor was our Joseph's duty onely such,
But to his Brethren was his love as much;
Though for their former rage he once seem'd strange,
Yet now they found in him a bounteous change,
As pardon is the daughter of Contrition,
So love's the common issue of remission;
He, who was like the Sun, that could dispense
Upon the mean'st his bounteous influence,
Could not neglect the Starres, could not deny
Unto his Brethrens want his gracious eye;
Not like to some, whose proud advanced height,
Looks on all other men as out of sight,
As fixt in higher Sphears, out of the view,
And the Horizon of the common crew,
As if conceit of honour with th'affection,
Had likewise chang'd the temper and complexion;
But Joseph thought it honour to descend
His Brethrens Father, and his Fathers friend.
Now more and more the Dearth began to rage,
Advancing on in horrid equipage;
New maladies outbrav'd the Physicks skill,
And desp'rate murther acted now its will,
Faintness had some confined to their Beds,
As if Dearth meant to ravell out their threds,
Or if she scorn'd the common way, by knife,
And meant t'untwind their fatall glomes of life;
The Barns were empty, where was nought, unless
The mournfull Owle, to wail their emptiness;
The gawdy gallants spirit now grew dull,
And wish'd a Garner for his Wardrobe full;
His Robes no better than the Beggers raggs,
The poor mans Scrip good as the rich mans baggs;
Though Gold be cordiall, it but to the sight,
But a sad meale to hungry appetite;
The clown that thought that metall was divine,
Had rather find a Garner than a Mine;
Were Nole a Tagus, and each fand i'th' stream,
Such stones whereof Philosophie doth dream;
Yet Midas now, would gladly change his wish
For roots, or Acorns, or so mean dish;
The Harvests pass, the Clown no longer reaps,
But now his Husbandry lay all in heaps;
O'r-grown with Burrs, rough Thistles, Docks, and Sedges,
The Culter rusted, and the fruitfull Hedges
Now with disorder'd boughes grew perewigg'd,
None plow'd, prun'd, planted, sow'd, manur'd, or digg'd;
Dearth so purvei'd for Death, now were the rodes
Wherein they justled with their plenteous loads,
So much o'r-grown, through scarcitie of men,
Each fearfull Beast there boldly made his den;
Each house as empty stood, the owner's dead,
As were their Bodies, now their Souls were fled;
Each look so meager, none could know, almost.
Where 'twere the man that walk'd, or else his Ghost,
Who, now with weakness, bow'd their feeble hams
Like late-earnd Lambkins, yer they suck'd their dams;
The Oxe i'th' Commons motionless did lie,
The Gum down-roping from his pale dead eye,
The Cow lob'd down her head, the raw-bon'd Ass
His mouth was foul with half-chew'd roots of grass,
Each Beast half starv'd, drooping the side, and hip,
Not moving for the Scourge, goad, spur, or whip;
Unto the Cities there was no resort
Except of Crows, who tore in knavish sport
Their dead, and still, impatient of delay,
Rookt on the house tops, waiting for their prey;
Their streets o'rgrown with rubbish, seem'd t'express
Unto the eye a civill wilderness;
So pining Dearth had shriv'led each ones skin,
With looks distorted they did strangely grin,
Which when they view'd in glasses, and in brooks,
Amazedly they startled at their looks;
In fine, a task that lames both tongue, and pen,
All nothing, but the shales, or husks of men;
This while, had Egypt for all kind of grains
Exchang'd their Coin, their Jewels, and their Chains,
All which our loyall Joseph never wrests
To his own use, but adds to Pharaohs Chests,
This store exhausted, you may ghess for bread,
Thus the Egyptians to Joseph plead;
Dread Sir, great Pharaoh's darling, Egypts Saint,
Vouchsafe a patient ear to our complaint;
We have for Corn exchang'd our coin and gold,
And yet Dearth rageth as your Grace foretold;
Our Barns are empty, not through our default,
Nor hath an en'my sow'd our Fields with Salt;
None enviously have choakt our Fields with stones;
None of these things are authors of our mones;
Great Nile's offended, and no wonted shout
Awakes the Echo, since no flood ran out
Through his fat banks, cut by our num'rous troops,
No, Nile within his shallow chanell stoops;
Our Money faileth, and who will not hold
A grain of Corn well worth an ounce of gold?
Our hopes are faild, and when the main-spring Hope
Is out of tune, the lesser wheels will stop
Of joy and pleasure; yet we'll not desist,
Since in thee bounty hath with goodness kist.
Think on thy honour, let it not be said
That we now perish, whom you first didst aid;
Redeem us from the jawes of Death, which boon
Will make thy fame shine bright as Titans noon.
Sirs, quoth the Lord, my troubled heart doth languish
In true imagination of your anguish;
Yet though I you condole, I hope each knowes
That I dispense as Pharaoh doth dispose;
Yet will he grant (such is his mild remorse)
Corn in exchange for Heards, and teams of Horse.
Glad was all Egypt, nor at all deferr'd
T'accept his love, each brings his team and heard;
On which exchange they liv'd this year, yet pind
In sad conceit of two years yet behind,
More then with food refresh'd; so ranging Deers
Fear more emacerates, than plenty cheers.
The year being ended, which as in a ring
It self within it self again doth bring,
Sad Egypt having all their cattle spent,
Which Industry had got, or Fortune lent,
Ghess them in a full press, with bended ham,
And prostrate faces, unto Ioseph came;
Great Sir, quoth they, now this is the third time
We have appeald to thee, and yet no prime.
Is Nile after so many years effluxions,
Th'earth weary grown after so oft productions?
And so expects like an exhausted soil
A rest and respite from the wonted toil;
Our Share tusts, and our tools that digg'd the earth
Hang like some Trophies dedicate to dearth;
Each body here's her Obelisk, that bears
Her triumph Grav'd in meager Characters;
Since Pharaoh, first, our Cause to thee refer'd;
There's none but hath exchang'd his Teem and Herd,
Wee not a Beast detain, there's none, great Prince,
That can thy servants of such fraud convince,
Now if our persons may, and each ones land
Ioyn'd with thy love, in equall ballance stand
With one years diet more, we have to boast,
Nor will as yet esteem our selves as lost;
So Pharaoh shall a double title have
In each one, of subject, and a slave;
View but these looks well, thou wilt not demur,
Nor will thy pity need another spur,
Thou art our nostrills breath, why should we dy,
The breath of all our nostrills being by?
And since now's the last year, by fate decreed
That Dearth shall rage, we further beg some seed
To sow the land, that it may be reduc'd,
Which in its ancient Chaos lies confus'd.
Sirs, quoth our Lord, my heart with you condoles
The bitter anguish of your troubled Souls,
Yet 'twere a sin in me beyond excuse,
Should I not all dispence to Pharaohs use,
Yet as I pittie what you have disclos'd,
So will I grant you what you have propos'd;
Ghess Ioseph now for Pharaoh wisely changes
Bread for their Fields, their Mannors and their Granges,
And with the Citizens for Pharaoh Barters,
For Corn, their Houses, Liberties, and Charters,
And that their lands and rights might all be known
By some clear evidence as Pharaohs own,
Th' Egyptians were to Cities far remov'd;
To the lands end, so Pharaohs right was prov'd,
Yet the Priests lands, and I sis Princely Flamines,
Became not Pharaohs nor the greedy Famins;
As if 'twere Sacrilegious extortion,
Ev'n in this Panic sale to buy their portion;
Nor were they famished, for Pharaohs stores
They made as bold with, as their threshing floors;
And which, those Priests who, then, serv'd I sis Cow,
Or they that serve the Lamb of heaven, now,
Are worth most honours? reader, fear, and pray,
Lest Pagans judge us at the latter day.
Ghess Egypt now, were in a full convention
By Joseph summond then to soft attention,
To whom, quoth he, Sirs there is none but knowes,
And will acknowledge still, with thankfull vowes,
That y'are preserved, not by common Power,
Since Fate, and Fortune on you all did lower,
If Pharaoh's bounty did not intervene,
Your Play were marr'd now in the latter Scene;
And you, like long-toss'd Vessells, should fall short,
And drown within the kenning of the Port;
Now so will Pharaoh as you do importune,
In true commiseration of your fortune,
Not out of Avariee for to supplant,
But out of pitty to supply your want;
Be't then in Egypts Notaries inroll'd,
That y'have your lands, and selves to Pharaoh sold,
Lo, here is seed, go, sow the land in peace,
Which with its former vigour shall increase;
Whereof a fifth part you shall grant the King,
You now being safe under his Graces wing,
You for your houshold shall the rest reserve,
To nourish them, Bread's natures chiefest nerve.
This he Enacted, and a Statute seal'd,
Which to this day's not cancell'd, nor repeal'd;
At this quoth Egypt, most renowned Prince,
Whose truest Hieroglyphick were a Lynce,
For as with him compar'd, each creature's blind,
Each spirits dark to thy inlightned mind;
Nature (the worlds great Soul) must needs confess
Thee alone her preserver, th'world must bless
Thee the sole cause, thy pitty and remorse,
That Dearth on both, now acts not a divorce;
To thee we owe, we here converse with men,
And not with Ghosts, in deaths unsavoury den;
Thee, that our Wives by her impartiall Bawd
Not ravish'd are for death; we praise, we laud,
Thee, that our children, like so many elves
Shrink not to nought, but yet look like themselves,
Admit us safe, under thy Graces wing,
Renowned Prince, so will we serve the King.
Grant now that debt that Adam did ingage
All men in, Death hath claim'd of Jacobs age;
Who swearing Joseph to transport his bones
Hath breath'd his last in blessings on his Sons;
Grant Ioseph next, by generall suffrage
Attended on in mourning equipage,
His Fathers corps (to Canaan brought) interr'd
In Machpelah, so of his oath was cleer'd.
When Iacob thus had deaths arrest obeyd,
Conscience within the Brethren 'gan t'upbraid
Their old offence anew, thus guilt would plead;
Their Brothers hate but slept, though it seem'd dead,
Occasion now might wake it, th'end might prove,
That with their Father, di'd their Brothers love;
That wounds are dang'rous when they inward bleed,
And if their Brother all this while should feed
Upon revenge, since full rage now had vent,
It's poys'nous rancour should on them be spent.
Fear by guilt raised seldome is remiss,
Till in conclusion hope and pardon kiss;
Nor were our Brethren negligent, but strove
To gain firm int'rest in their Brothers love;
Yet so conceit had of their weak demerits
Dissolv'd their courage, and outbrav'd their spirits,
That they came not, but sent, nor durst they frame
The message in theirs, but their Fathers name,
Know'ng if their sute in Iacobs name were coucht,
'T would like a Charm, not cease till it had touch'd
Their Brothers midriffs with remorse, 'twould wrest
A soft remission from his melting Brest;
Great Sir (this was the burthen of their sute,
And thus they humbly taught to prostitute)
Thus said our Father, yer in Ephrons Urn
He pawn'd his body for his Souls return,
Thus in my name you shall to Ioseph speak,
Remember not thy Brethrens sin, nor wreak
Thy just revenge upon their hate, which sin,
Than all their sinns in gross hath greater been;
Remit what God hath pardond, and in this
On their soft Souls thy pardon seal with His;
Thus did our Father bid, whose Soul above
Hovers with blessings yet to crown thy love;
Now this offence remit we thee intreat,
Whose hearts with true devotion truly beat
Of Jacobs God, t'whom from our hearts arise
Zealous affection in Sacrifice.
For Gods, for Iacobs sake, our fault remit,
Though we for neither would at all acquit
Thy innocence, and if it yet appears
Thy rage doth flame, we'll quench it with our tears.
Mild Joseph pittying their anxious fears
Could not but second grief again with tears,
Now griev'd he they suspected him, and wept
Then joy'd their conscience not securely slept.
Now, as one having foil'd a fell disease
Wherein he long hath labour'd, doth not cease
Untill that Physick shall the reliques purge,
Which after might in wonted Symptoms urge,
Ev'n so the Brethren though they now might judge
Their Brother reconcil'd, and that no grudge
Did swell his peacefull Brest, but that with tears,
He entertained had their anxious fears;
Yet Conscience never leaves her nice inquests,
Till in the Bosome shee of pardon rests.
Nor were the Ten remiss till they found out
By true experience they had nought to doubt;
Wherefore all in a personall submission
Thus beg their Pardon, and thus couch contrition;
Neither presum'd they on an equall greet,
But thus fell prostrate at their Brothers feet.
Dread Sir, in Jacobs name, and for his sake,
We come to second what our message spake;
Thus Jacob said, yer he enjoy'd on high
The blessings purchas'd by his lamed thigh;
This in my name to Ioseph speak, pray blot
Thy Brethrens sin (if it be not forgot)
From thy remembrance, since they are convinc'd,
And their Souls in repentant tears are rinc'd;
Trample not grief, guilt is a greater scourge
That can revenge inflict, or Justice urge;
'Tis true, the fault was great, and to be brief,
Such as me thinks yet startles my belief;
Yet think not on revenge, their fault forget,
And let not rage usurp mild mercies seat;
This did our Father bid, before his death;
Yer Angells suck'd his Soul out with his breath;
And now we hope, our fault did not so harden
Thy heart, but tears may melt it to my pardon.
Huge winds, they say, are still'd by little rain,
Then let not all our tears thus fall in vain,
Thou at first sight, we hope, was't reconcil'd,
For ever since thy carriage hath been mild;
And if yet mercy in thy Brest bear sway,
Our hopes are anchor'd in a happy Bay.
If not — but then their passion grew so high,
That with th' Aposiopesis of a sigh
They there must stop; to whom quoth Joseph thus,
I know already what you would discuss;
'Tis true, your fact was gross, and since y'are come,
If you want tears, I here will lend you some
For to lament it, God did you prevent,
And unto good did wrest your bad intent,
Who hath so many sav'd alive by one
Unworthy person as you see is done;
I long for no revenge, but that you sentence
Your sin to death by an unfeign'd repentance;
Tears are the blood I thirst for, since to God
Belongs revenge, I'll not usurp his rod;
Yet since you fear I will revenge your deed,
That false suggestion doth from guilt proceed;
For though there be no cause, yet busie guilt
Still holds her hand upon her Daggers hilt,
Envy doth burn like fire, and then no doubt
But once in seventeen years it would break out;
But yet, thus may your busie guilt insist,
My cords of friendship, you may doubt, were twist
Upon my Fathers heart-strings, and guilt durst
Infer, perchance, both were together burst,
Fear not my Brethren, this the end shall prove
That guilt's a traitour which misconstrues love;
Doubt no close malice, fear no poys'nous rancour,
But in this Bosome let your hopes cast anchor,
I'll nourish you, respect you little ones,
And when I die the like will charge my Sons;
With such advice as this you may suppose
Mild Ioseph did his satisfaction close;
Ev'n so as these, Gods Saints do never cease,
Till through repentance they have purchas'd peace,
I in Gods mercy ioy, that he did die
A sacrifice for me yer I was I,
Yet can I not but grieve, and grieving mourn,
That I him crucifi'd yer I was born,
Nay greater cause of grief, for, I'm the Iew,
And him each minute crucifie anew,
My sighes should wing me to some Hermites Cave,
Where with my nayles I'd hourly dig my grave,
And there would live a sorrowfull Recluse,
Tears should be Helicon, and grief my Muse,
And as an Anch'ret would my self immure,
Yet live in tears a gawdy Epicure.
When Ioseph fully pardon'd had this crime,
Admit a certain Intervall of time,
When Fortune (serving, whom she can't seduce)
As proud of his acceptance, grew profuse
T'wards Ioseph in her favours, which he took
Still with a thankfull, not ambitious look;
Vertue commandeth Fortune, and doth clip
Her wings, or holds her like an anchor'd ship;
Nor doubted he, lest that with giddy changes,
She should vacillate in her wonted ranges,
God who Alph' and Omega is, is love
Which still doth Alpha and Omega prove;
Thus Ioseph long in honour liv'd, the strength
Of whose old age extended to that length,
That his Posterity to three degrees
Descent he saw, and on his aged knees
Were Machirs children brought, Manasseh's Son;
So might he boast as Iacob once had done,
Who comming one o'r Iordan, was increast,
When he came back, a Nation at the least.
Now as the glorious Sun, who proudly oft
Hath rid in triumph through the azurd loft,
Anon meets an Eclips, which, in a brook,
If view'd, affronts him with a gloomy look,
So death (which makes a falling-Star of each,
Although he mount unto the highest reach,
And altitude of honour in his Sphere)
Began to threaten Ioseph with such fear;
Rude death esteems not honour, and Fate dooms
With equall sentence Monarchs and their Grooms;
Shuffles the Beggers scabs, and Ladies paint
Into a clod, nor Villain knowes nor Saint,
So Ioseph with the mean'st of Adams race
Must feel th'arrest of Deaths imperious Mace;
When Fates black-bed-roul of diseases 'gan
T'assault the suburbs of his inward man;
He (conscious of his weakness) 'gan to doubt
His Souls frail mansion could not long hold out;
Wherefore his Brethren he, as one convenes,
To whom, Sirs, I perceive what heaven means,
For death (Gods Bayliff) with his Ebbon Scepter
Stands ready to arrest me as his debtor;
Nought but my life acquits me, and each day
Presents my senses with some new decay;
Now Brethren, since you know my youthfull Dreams
(Th'event can witness) were no idle theams,
I'll speak a truth too now, but it propounds
Its burthen to your thoughts on surer grounds;
'Tis truth, as if 'twere by the heavens hoasts
Proclaim'd, and witness't by our Fathers Ghosts;
That God will sure, in his appoined time,
To Can'an bring you back, your Native clime,
Which Abr'ham, Jsaack, and to Jacob both,
He gave by promise, and confirm'd by oath,
Then do not my expiring spirit grieve,
Nor forfeit Can'an by your unbelief;
Believ't, as if each of you (as an heir
Unto Gods promise) now breath'd Can'ans air;
Record it on your Souls, in after years
Let these my words still echo in your ears;
And when you see th'event doth not fall short
Of expectation, swear for to transport
My bones with you to Can'an, for I lust
To be dissolved with my Fathers dust;
So Joseph yeelded to the Fates, so old,
That he an hundred and ten years had told;
Did all the Muses Springs unto my brain
Pay Tribute, as all Rivers to the Main;
I could not weep him as he was, nor fits
My creeping stile with Egypts tow'ring wits;
Yet thus conceive they mourn'd, th' Astrologers
Began to curse the base-revolting Stars;
Could one command the Sun, he'd make him burn
As an obsequious Tapor on his Urn;
The Moon a second, then unto his Hearse
The yesty Sea should pay its brackish tears;
A third the Orbs, then he would make them meet
On earth in honour for his Winding sheet;
A fourth the Air, then should some Meteors shine
Like to a Fun'rall lamp stand o'r his shrine;
A fift the Earth, then should her teeming womb
Spread a continued May about his Tomb;
A sixth command the Fire, then he would bid
A ne'r to-be-extinguish'd Pyramid
Blaze on his Hearse; A seventh would set forth
Fit Hieroglyphicks to describe his worth;
Pharaoh devested of his Kingly State
In mourning wailes Zaphnath-Paaneahs fate,
The princely Priests lament, and Isis Cow
Within her Temple did in mourning low.
Th'embalming Doctor not at all forbears,
But with his Odours doth commix his tears;
One, in commemoration of his alms
With them his name as with sweet odour balms;
Grief witty grew in some, each day his years
Some vie with sighes, and some, his months with tears;
'Twere infinite to quote their Fun'rall Odes,
Endless for to describe their mourning Modes;
Fit Mourners were they all, whom you might see,
Nature had deck'd in mourning Cap-a-pe:
But this large task had dull'd my tyred Muse,
My fingers are benum'd, my Pen's obtuse,
Leave him in Egypt, where on this Divorce
Worms sweetly fed on his embalmed Course.
FINIS.

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