Selected quad for the lemma: mercy_n
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A11139
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A terrible battell betweene the two consumers of the whole world: time, and death. By Samuell Rowlands
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Rowlands, Samuel, 1570?-1630?
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1606
(1606)
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STC 21407; ESTC S112121
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12,846
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45
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be got A Doctor with al expedition wife My legges wil make me weary of my life Time This misers answere I haue noted frend In sicknes men on Doctors most relie Vnto Apothicaries shops they send Till phisicke giues them ouer they must die And when they see there is no way but one Fetch a Diuine God shal be thought vpon Death T' is true indeede but wee le giue pilland potion To such as whole on outward meanes depend And come to god for want more then deuotion As forc'd vnto it at their helples end For ere the doctor could a drinke prouide I stab'd my dart thus deepe into his side Death From him thou know'st we to a lawyer went Time T is right we found him arguing of cases This is quoth he the very lawes intent With that the golden fees came in by braces Wher 's your instructions and his declaration I cannot answere thee till next vacation Come thou in Tearme thy matter shal be heard Sir I remember'd you the other day The bill you wot off I haue now preferd With that stept I and said frend Lawyer stay An execution gainst your life I haue You must vnto my Iaile is cald the Graue Leauing him to the Sexton and the bels We came vnto a Marchant in this towne That mighty bags of money ouer-tels Wrapt very orderly in his night gowne Sirra quoth he is not the poste come yet Make speed and summe me vp this bill of debt There can no ships come yet I le raise my price Oh that the winde would hold but thus a while There comes into my head an odde deuice The very thought thereof doth make me smile Some shal be sure to pay if this geare hold The plot is pretious and must yeeld me gold Thus he sat plotting till I spoild his braine With Oh I feele my selfe exceeding sicke I gaue his hart a gripe it grond againe By this on price of wares he would not sticke But lay a gasping while the bell did towle And there his body lies without a soule Next doore to him we found a London dame Vpon her bed with finger aking laide And there most bitterly she did exclaime Against the misdemeanors of her maide Base queane quoth she how dost thou make me fret To see my ruffe of that ilfauord set Your manners huswife you haue quite forgot As sure as death I le make your ioynts to bow You whore the poking yron is too hot Durst thou presume to vex thy mistris now If I were well thou queane I would not misse To had my fists about thine eares ere this Let me not rise for if I doe no more Few wordes are best I thinke you will repent it I le make you feele your sides this fortnight sore Except Death crosse my purpose and preuent it With that I stept betweene to part the Fray The Mayd scapt blowes and Mistris brake her day A Muskie-Gentle we did visit then A Silken Gallant very curyous fine That kept a swaggring crew of Seruingmen Whose rapyer-hylts embrued with gold did shine And for he would from all contention cease He wisely bound his weapons to the Peace One that would send his challenge to his Foe And braue him out with paper in disgrace But to the fielde he alwaies scornd to goe For he kept men that would supply the place He would preserue his life yet send his Gloue His person must attend on Ladies loue Well this same signeur with the tender skin That dedicateth all his daies and houres To dauncing drunkennesse and Venus sinne Neuer respecting Time and Deaths sterne powers Was met by me thinking his life secure I killed the knaue to keepe my hand in vre Where went we then doest thou remember Time Time Yes very well we visited a Poet That tyrd inuention day and night with rime And still on Venus seruice did bestow it Death T is true indeed a Poet was the next With foolish idle loue extreamely vext Time All that he did endeuour to deuise Was onely Venus praise and Cupids power Within his head he had a mint of lyes On truth he neuer spent in 's life an houre His fictions were to feed those in their pride Who take delight to heare themselues belide For slaunder women to haue vertues many Admird their beauties when they lack good faces Say they haue wit at will not seeing any Tell them their empty minds are full of graces Why then they thinke you loue them past compare And euery toy they weare becoms them rare This Poet thus a sonneting we found Riming himselfe euen almost out of breath Cupid quoth he thy cruell Dart doth wound Oh graunt me loue or else come gentle Death Death I heard him say come gentle death in Iest And in good earnest graunted his request Time Leaue him a rotting then we march'd along Vnto a Godly reuerent graue deuine Whose faith on Christ was grounded firme and strong And all his hope to heauen did he incline At prayer deuout we found him on his knees And with these words he spake his hart agrees The wounds that IESVS suffred for my sinne Are mouthes that cry O loue him with thy hart The thornes that pierced thorow his flesh and skin Are tongues pronouncing Loue is his desart The torturing whips that did to anguish moue him Are Ecchoes sounding Wretched Sinner loue him With Peters sinnes in greatnesse mine abound Who by his oathes and cursses Christ denied And with the woman in Adultry found The filthinesse of sinne in me doth bide With Magdalens in multitudes they be Her seauen Deuils haue infected me The shame of sinne vpon my soule doth fall That on the wretched Publican did light The cruelty of sinne I haue with Paul To prosecute the holy and vpright And with the Theefe that all his life did ill Vnto my graue my sinnes attend me still Oh come sweet Iesus for thy seruant coms I doe beleeue Lord helpe my vnbeliefe My debt of sinnes amount to mighty sums Of Mercies treasure onely thou art chiefe Though sinnes be red as scarlet yet I know Thy precious blood can wash them white as snow To be dissolued greatly I desire This world doth passe the things thereof are vaine To be with Christ I onely do require And see the Citty where his Saints do raigne He is my life Death is a gaine to me With that his soule ascends where Angels be Death A happy soule one that had learn'd to die And rightly vnderstood his earthly state Whose constant faith enfor'cd the Deuill fly That still assaulteth men with deadly hate For thou know'st Time how that same hel-hound striues About the hower that men yeeld vp their liues For in mans sicknes Sathan doth conceiue It may be mortall that disease may end-him And therefore no temptation he will leaue That to eternall torment he may send-him T is time saith he to do my most endeuor If now I loose his sowle t is lost for euer First then
hee le tempt him to impatient mind To grudge and to repine at Gods correction Whereto with paine and griefe he seemes inclin'd But finding grace preuenteth that infection He seekes to draw him to a pride of hart To thinke himselfe a man of great desart And one in whome perfection doth abound That constantly aduersities can beare For his good workes deseruing to be crownd And that of sin he need not stand in feare If this cannot his sowle for hell prepare He labors then to driue him to despaire Compares Gods iudgements and his sins together And bids his conscience looke vpon the law Where damned soules remain he must go thither No mercy such a sinner euer saw It stands not with Gods iustice for to saue-him The Deuils come and onely he must haue-him Thus plots that foe and thus he oft preuailes And doth enlarge his kingdome wondrous thus Millions of sowles go hel-ward with these gales When men from memory do banish vs To count thee precious all men haue great reason To thinke on me is neuer out of season Time Death it is true but that same monster sin That brood of hell that Deuils eldest childe Which with the fall of Adam did begin And all his off-spring odious hath defil'd That Viper of the soule doth still appeare To all those sinners entertaine it heere Sinne the despising of Gods Maiesty And the contempt of his Eternall power The death of Vertue Graces enemy Canker of true felicities faire flower The obscure darkenes of mans vnderstanding Rebell to all the lawes of Gods commanding Sinne the director vnto all mishap The fetters of th' eternall vault of hell The tempters net he vseth to intrap The price wherewith the Deuils buy and sell The seed of Sathan daily by him sowne In those hard harts which are become his owne Sinne euerlasting poison curelesse killing The imitation of the evill sprites Folly of men to vvhich the world runs willing Pleasing destruction fil'd with loath'd delights Soules pestilence from darke infections Den The cause of all Gods plagues that light on men Hath ouer man such rule and Empire got And generally on earth beares such a sway That ther 's not one doth good and sinneth not The righteous falleth seuen times a day This is the cause the Lyon roares about And heauens narrow way is hard found out Death True time Well then we went with expedition Killing about some hundred by the way Vnto the mansion of a rare phisition That with my subiects bare a mighty sway Of sicke and lame and gowty cry sort Gaue all of him a wonderfull report Within his hand he held a vrinall Which after he had view'd a little space This party quoth he very shortly shall Be perfect well and in a healthy case There is no daunger do as I haue wild Yet that same person I had newly kild To many he gaue notes what they should take Some pill some potion others must let blood And diuers compounds some with speed must make And on his life this phisicke would do good Quoth I Phisitian cure thy selfe fond man Thou diest this howre preuent it if thou can About this time much worke I had to do As wofull London did both feele and see A dreadfull plague began six hundred two Which did continue out six hundred three The bloody busines I had then in hand Became a terror vnto all the land Deadly destruction was in e'ry street A daily mourning and a daily dying Great vse of Coffin and of winding Sheet From empty houses many hundreds flying Each faculty profession and degree Tooke counsell with their legs to run from me But how they sped experience can declare How many left their liues vpon the way Poore mortals in my hands are brittle ware Like Vapor Buble Flower wither'd Hay Where can they run but I am still behind-them Where can they liue secure but I will find-them The Cittizens that out of plague time euer Are entertain'd with welcomes in all Townes To shun like Serpents each man did endeuor Amongst the rusticke rude viâ—ciuill Clownes The name of Londoner that very breath Had power to terrifie as much as death Let him be friend or kinsman what he will Maister or seruant husband or the wife You must keepe out saies Iobson with his bill The plagu's about him neighbors on my life Heere is no meat and drinke for horse or man Starue if thou wilt or get it where thou can God which detested cruelty seeing this Gaue vs commission ouer all the land That flesh and blood might know the plague was his And he had power to strike or hold his hand Then we his officers to worke did go And make the Country tast of Citties wo. How could they shun their owne infection now That held the Londoners contagious foes What vertue can their worm-wood smels allow To charme the plague for comming neare their nose Angellica is but a rotten root Hearbe-grace in scorne I trample vnder-foot Vnicorns horn's not worth a marrow-bone Though men esteeme so precious of the dust Bugell is euen as good as Beazer stone If I but say Sirrha away you must Prepare thy soule repent the guilt of sin Coffin and sheete attend to take thee in I wonder what men thinke that daily see Their friends and kindered carried to the graue How they can count themselues secure to be That not an howers time of life-time haue That find they are but tenants heere at will Yet liue as they could liue free-holders still Where 's old Methuselah that long liu'd man Whers's al the fathers saw so many daies Their liues were but the length of Dauids span A vapor that most sodainly decaies Th' are borne grow strong wax old fall sicke and die So other do and others them supply Where 's that strong man that did so many kill And admirable things by valour did That carried Asah gates to Hebron hil And rent a Lyon like a tender Kyd Looke in the graue where this great man doth lie There 's no strength left to kil a silly flie Wher 's that most rare and comely shaped prince That would haue puld his Father from his throne Whose like no age hath seene for feature since Nor any age before his age had known Not a locke left of all his goodly haire Hundreds ago his scull was bald and bare Wher 's Hector gone and Hercules become What newes with Pompey and Achilles now Where marcheth Alexander with his drum To Caesars scepter who doth yeeld or bow Where are these great and mighty conquering ones Time shew an ounce of dust of all their bones Time Death preethy stay let this discourse stand by And make me answere vnto one request Some doubt and difference is twixt thee and I Which to resolue in my conceit were best And this it is The world exclaimes on me For diuers actions that are done by thee If thou stab children in their mothers wombe Or kill a king as soone as