Some for Caroches cry’d, some for their Trayne
Of Vassailes to attend, but cry’d in vaine.
They shall cry to the gods whom they serued in this life, and they shall not saue them in this time of affliction. Ier. 2.
Gay gawdy women, who spent yeares of Noones
In tricking vp their Fronts with Chaperoones,
And powdred Haire: whose Taylors sheares did quarrell
With Pride, how to cut onely their apparrell,
Whose Backs wore out more Fashions then their Wit,
Phantasticknesse being short to alter it
Into so many shapes, as they did vary
The loades, being more then those when fed Mules carry
(In Sumpters) Great Lords things: whose heads were
Ith’ Aire high as a Stags, boue all the Heard; reard
And when they rode (their Foote-men running by)
They seem’d prowd Ships in all their Gallantry,
Newly-arriu’d, full-fraighted, vnder sayle,
Slight empty Cock-boates dancing at their Tayle;
These Dames, who each day in French Chariots sat
Glistring like Angels, a prowd-bounding Trot
From foure faire Steedes drawing all on them to wonder,
That the Clowdes eccho’d, and the Earth shooke vnder:
But when their Coursers tooke their full Cariere,
It look’d like that Day, when the Thunderer
Struck with his Triple-fire Heauens Rider downe;
For (from their horses nostrils) Breath was throwne
Hot-quick as lightning, and their Hoofs vp-hurld
Such Clowdes of Smoake, as when he fir’d the world.
O horrid sight! These (once so much Ador’d)
In hell were drudges, spurn’d at, and abhorr’d;
Their Painted cheekes, turn’d into Witches looks,
Bright Haire to Snakes, long Fingers into hooks,
Pearle-Chaines to roapes, their gawdy Robes to Ragges,
And delicate bodies, vglier farre then Hagges.
They that for Table-crums refus’d to buy
And (for their soules) hoord vp Eternity,
Here offred worlds of Treasure, but to get
One drop of Water: (O hels infinite Heate!)
Yet not a drop was sufferd once to fall:
To quench their thirst, Diuels held out caps of Gall.
Diues the patterne of such vncharitable wretches, cries out in that Language: O Father Abraham, haue compassion vpon me, and send down Lazarus vnto me, that he may dippe the toppe of his finger in water and coole my tongue, &c. Luke 16.
Cram’d-vp in stinking corners I beheld
Base Heapes tumbled together, who all yell’d
Like bandogs tyed in kennels: High-way-standers,
Foists, Nips, and Iylts, Prinadoes, Bawdes, Pimpes, Pan-
Olde sunck-eyde Beldames, hir’d to keepe the doors, (ders,
Till their owne Daughters were by slaues made whoores:
Catchpolles, and Varlets, who did poore men fleece
(To their vndoing) for a Twelue-peny peece.
Mongst these were mingled Periur’d common-Baile,
With Petti-foggers, that set Law to sale
With Cauterized Consciences; Theeues, Cheates,
Tradesmen that fed vpon the Broken Meates
Of Oathes and Rotten-wares; and those to sell
Car’d not for single money to buy Hell.
Ten thousand Packs (like these) were basely throwne
Into a Ware-house of Damnation,
Where Fire their foode was, Adders galls their Drinke,
And their Tobacco, a strong Brimstone stinke.
His bread (speaking of the wicked Worldling) in his belly shall be turned into the gall of Serpents, hee shall be constrained to vomit out againe the riches which he hath deuoured, God shall pull them forth of his belly, he shall be constrained to suck the gals of Cockatrices, and the tongues of Adders shall slay him, &c. Iob 10.
THE WORME OF CONSCIENCE.
THE whips that lash’d the Damn’d, were some of wire,
And some of Iron; others were roapes of Fire
Knotted with ragged stones of glowing Flint,
Which though in thousand formes they did imprint
Tortures vpon their Soules, yet there was One
To which all Torments else compar’d, were None.
A kinde of Worme there was, all speckled black,
That shot tenthousand Prickles from his back,
Sharper then quils of Porcupines, and longer,
And further flying, and more swift and stronger;
It bare a Tearing forked sting behinde,
Which in the Striking did so strangely winde,
It wounded euery way where it did Hit,
Nor could it be put by, by force or Wit:
This Worme had Teeth of needles, and lay gnawing
Both night and day, Black Soules in peeces drawing:
The more ’tis rack’d, it liues; the more it Fries
In Flames, the lesse it Burnes, and Neuer dies.
Our Sauiour speaking of the paines of the Damned, saith; that their Worme dieth not. Mar. 9. 44.
To call but this Worme to minde (amongst the other Torments of that Infernall Lake) marke in what passions one powreth forth his feares: Gehennam timeo, quippe interminatam, exhorreo Tartarum vt cui nimium insitCaloris, paueo Tenebras quoniam nihil admittunt Lucis, Formido pectiferum VERMEM, quoniam est perennis, &c.
I feare Gehenna, because it hath no end, Hell to me is horrible, because it hath too much Fire, the Darkenesse I tre¯ble at, because it hath no Light, the Deadly WORME affrights me, because it is Euer-lasting.
Holy Bernard beeing pierced to the Soule with the same Agony of Feare, thus confesseth it: Paueo Gehennam,Contremisco a Dentibus Bestiae infernalis, Horreo VERMEM rodentem, et ignem torrentem, Fumum, et Vaporem, et Sulphur, et Spiritum Procellarum, &c.
I am (saies hee) afraid of Hell, I tremble at the teeth of the Infernall Dragon, the Gnawing WORME is a Horror to me, and the Roasting Fire, and the Smoake, and the Brimstone, and the Spirit of Stormes, &c.
One Soule, me thought, boyling in Sulphurous flame,
Curs’d God, and on his Rigor did exclame,
Rail’d at him for Iniustice, and thus Cri’d:
If for my Sin thy Sonne was Crucified,
Why am I hell’d in Execution
In this Damn’d Iayle, euer to be Vndone?
If Hee layd downe his life to set me Cleere
From all my Debts, why am I Dungeon’d Here?
Why for a life no longer then a Span,
Am I an Euerlasting damned Man?
He whom the First bad woman did intice,
Was but once driuen out of Paradice,
Yet hee (euen then) was Sole Monarchall Lord
O’re the whole Globe, Seas did to him Accord
In sweete Obedience: all the Beasts on Earth,
As vnder his Dominion they tooke birth,
So from him had they Names, they all did Bow
Their knees to him, and did obserue his Brow.
He lost a Garden, but an Orchard found,
Wall’d in with Seas, with Sun-beames compast round,
Where Birds (whose Notes were neuer since so cleare)
Seru’d as Musitians All, to tune his Eare:
A Serpent cozened Him by sorcerous Charmes,
But (in his stead) a woman fild his Armes:
A woman! in whose Face more Beauties shone
Then all the Beauties after made in One:
He was Mans Maister-thiefe, Robd him of All,
Droue him from Eden, and (so) forc’d him Fall
Out of the Sphaere of Innocence: and yet
Those Crownes of Blessings God on him did set.
Why then for Sin but of a minutes date,
Must I for Euer be a Rebrobate?
Gods holy hunger though it oft did kill me,
&nb
sp; Gods holy Banquet yet did neuer fill me;
The Silke worme ne’re for me wrought in her Loome,
I neuer slept in a Rich Lordly Roome,
Neuer eate Pies of Nightingales Tongues, or sate
Like Diues at my table seru’d in Plate.
My Beldame Nurse (the Earth) when she gaue Suck
To me, her left Breast still she forth did pluck,
Being Iuicelesse; or from thence if Drops did fall,
How could I quench my thirsty Iawes with Gall?
I neuer lackeyed by proud Fortunes wheele:
For all the taste of Pleasures I did feele,
Was in the warme Embracements of my Whore:
If that were Sin, why then did Nature store
My Veines with hot bloud, blowing lust full fire?
’Twas her Corruption, and not my Desire.
I likewise (now and then) was wash’d within
All-o’re with Wines, but why should that be Sin,
When God the Vineyard planted, and in’s word
Bid Man drinke wine? Thou art a Rigorous Lord,
(Mee thought) the Hell-hound howl’d, for trifling Crimes
To Damne me in a World out-lengthning Times.
Say, that full sixty yeares my Glasse did run,
More then that halfe I slept, there was won
Little to Hell in sleepe: but my lifes thread
Reach’d but to thirty, so that I lay dead
Fifteene of those, and of those fifteene, fiue
At least were childish: O must I aliue
Be held for Euer in Damnations Iayle
For poore ten yeares! when I perhaps did saile
Some part of them towards Heauen? What cursed waue
Threw’st Thou to drowne me in th’ Infernall Graue?
My Parents blest me Mornings, Noones and Nights,
Were all those spent in Vayne? I tooke delights
Inplucking Apples from t’Hesperian Trees,
Which Eating, I grew Learn’d: adde to All these
My Priuate Readings, which more School’d my Soule,
Then Tutors, when they sternliest did Controll
With Frownes or Rods: some Dayes in This were Spent:
So that if All my Faire-writ leaues were Rent
Out of Gods Memory, alack! it were
A Thin Booke of the Foule: yet must I (here)
For sowing some Few Acres vn-awares
Of Bad Corne, reape an Endlesse Field of Tares?
At this, ten thousand Soules (rauing mad) Roard
That on their Heads the selfe-same shot was scoard:
But then, a Voice (tun’d to an Angels Sound)
With repercussiue Ecchoes did rebound
Through all the Court of Barathrum, thus Thundering
Terrors that shooke Hells Center: Ceasse thy wondring
(Thou Bawling Reprobate,) a recompence
Is giuen thee to the Weight of thine Offence.
For had thy yeares out-reach’d Methuslem’s Age,
Thy Black lifes Torrent (with impetuous rage)
Had Boundlesse, Bottomlesse, Restlesse bin;
So that as Thy Eternity did Sin
Tortured thou art in Gods Eternity:
Thy faults to him, his rods for thee doe buy:
Nor can he in his Iustice pittie those,
Who pitty not themselues, but do expose
Their Soules to Foule Acts, scorning threatned Paine,
Like Whoores, who buy Damnation for small Gaine.
Thou on the bread thy Sins did earne doest feede,
Not paying by the Day, but by the Deede.
What was thy whole life but a Mutinous Warre
‘Gainst thy Creator? Euery Sense did Iarre
From his Obedience: like to Mad-mens swords
Thy works were wounds, and blowes flew from thy words:
Thy Lips, Eares, Eyes, haue still bin Gates set wide
To let in Blasphemy, Lust, Auarice, Pride,
And Legions of such Diuels. Thou didst Dwell
First in a House of Flesh, but now in Hell:
That was thy Partner, and (as Partners doe)
Hath thee Vndone for Euer: Thou shalt Rue
His Ryots, WHORINGS, Swearings, his Disorders
Are thy Damnations: euery Sense now furders
Thy Torments; the loose Glances of the Eyes,
The Liquorishnesse of Taste, the Melodies
To the Lasciuious Eare; All-all these turne
To thy Perdition, thou for these shalt burne.
To no hand holden-vp can helpe be giuen,
The Left is Hels, the Right beat back from Heauen:
In Flames go it Wher, and grow Green againe;
Paine kill thee, yet thou still shalt liue in paine.
On was he going but to drowne this Voice,
All Hell broke loose, and then were heard no Noyse
But Vlulations, Shrikings, Horred Soundings
Of Ratling-Chaynes, and thousand strange Confoundings
Of Indisting guishable dire-mix’d Terrors: (rors.
At which (I Trembling) WAKDE; and though the Er-
Of my Sleepe-wandring-Soule, were now left Cleare,
And that my cold hands had tane leaue of feare,
Yet my Heart panted, and my Haire turn’d white,
More through the Ghastly Obiects of this Night,
Then with the Snow of Age: And yet euen then,
Collecting vp my selfe, I read of Men
The Volumes ouer, and the world, so well
That I found Here worse Diuels then are in Hell
FINIS.
A ROD FOR RUN-AWAYES
TO THE NOBLE GENTLEMAN, MR. THOMAS GILHAM, CHIRVRGIAN.
SIR,
IN this Vniuersall sicknesse, giue mee leaue (in a few Leaues) to salute your Health, and I am glad I can do so. To whom, in an Epidemiall confusion of Wounds, should a man flye, but to Physicke and Chirurgery? In both which you haue skill. In the last, the World crownes your Fame (as beeing a great Master.) Many of your excellent Pieces haue beene (and are to bee) seene in this City. No Painter can shew the like, no Limner come neere such curious Workemanship. What you set out, is truely to the life; theirs but counterfeit. I honour your Name, your Art, your Practice, your profound Experience: And, to testifie I doe so, let this poore Monument of my loue bee looked vpon, and you shall finde it. The Sender beeing sorry, it is not worth your acceptation: But if you thinke otherwise, he shall be glad,
And euer rest, at your seruice, THO. Dekker.
TO THE READER.
READER, how farre soeuer thou art, thou maist here see (as through a Perspectiue-Glasse) the miserable estate of London, in this heauy time of contagion. It is a picture not drawne to the life, but to the death of aboue twelue thousand, in lesse then six weekes. If thou art in the Countrey, cast thine eye towards vs here at home, and behold what wee indure. If (as thou canst not choose) thou art glad thou art out of this Tempest, haue a care to man thy Ship well, and doe not ouer-lade it with bad merchandize (foule Sins) when thou art bound for this place: for all the danger will be at thy putting in. The Rockes of insection lye hid in our deepe Seas, and therefore it behoues thy soule to take heed what sayles she hoyses, and thy body, what Pylote it carries aboord. Wee doe not thinke, but numbers of you wish your selues here againe: for your entertainement a far off cannot be courteous, when euen not two miles from vs, there is nothing but churlishnesse. But it is to be feared, some of you will get such falls in the Corne-Fields of the Country, that you will hardly bee able (without halting) to walke vp and downe London. But take good hearts, and keepe good legges vnder you, and be sure, you haue hung strong Pad-lo•…es vpo•… your doores; for in many Streetes, there are none to guard your goods, but the Houses themselues. If one Shop be open, sixteene in a row stand shut vp together, and those that are open, were as good to be shut; for they take no Money.
None thriue but Apothecaries, Butchers, Cookes, and Coffin-makers. Coach-me
n ride a cock-horse, and are so full of Iadish trickes, that you cannot be iolted sixe miles from London, vnder thirty or forty shillings. Neuer was Hackney-flesh so deare. Few woollen Drapers sel any Cloth, but euery Church-yard is euery day full of linnen Drapers: and the Earth is the great Warehouse, which is piled vp with winding-sheetes. To see a Rapier or Feather worne in London now, is as strange, as to meet a Low-countrey Souldier with Money in his Purse: The walkes in Pauls are empty: the walkes in London too wide, (here’s no lustling;) but the best is, Cheape-side is a com fortable Garden, where all Phisicke-Herbes grow. Wee wish that you (the Run-awayes) would suffer the Market-Folkes to come to vs, (or that they had hearts to come) for the Statute of fore-stalling is sued vpon you. Wee haue lost your companies, and not content with that, you robbe vs of our victuals: but when you come backe, keepe open house (to let in ayre) and set good cheere on your Tables, that we may bid you welcome.
Yours, T. D.
GODS TOKENS, OF HIS FEAREFULL IUDGEMENTS.
WEE are now in a set Battaile; the Field is Great Britaine, the Vantguard (which first stands the brunt of the Fight) is London: the Shires, Counties and Countries round about, are in danger to be prest, & to come vp in the Reare: the King of Heauen and Earth is the Generall of the Army; reuenging Angels, his Officers; his Indignation, the Trumpet summoning and sounding the Alarum; our innumerable sinnes, his enemies; and our Nation, the Legions which he threatens to smite with Correction.
Sinne then being the quarrell and ground of this warre, there is no standing against so inuincible a Monarch (as God is) no defending a matter so foule, as our sinnes are.
Would you know how many Nations (for sinne) haue beene rooted vp, and swept from the face of the earth, that no memory of them is left but their name, no glories of their Kings or great Cities remaining but only this, Here they liued, Here they stood? Reade the Scriptures, and euery Booke is full of such Histories, euery Prophet sings songs of such lamentable desolations.
For, Iehouah, when he is angry, holds three Whips in his hand, and neuer drawes bloud with them, but when our Faults are heauy, our Crimes hainous: and those three Whips are, the Sword, Pestilence and Famine.
What Country for sinne hath not smarted vnder these? Ierusalem felt them all. Let vs not trauell so farre as Ierusalem, but come home, looke vpon Christendome, and behold Hungaria made desolate by sword and fire, Poland beaten downe by battailes, Russia by bloudy inuasions: the Turke and Tartar haue here their insolent triumphs.
Complete Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker Page 258