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Until that act foul barberous deed befell,
Which makes me mute, almost afraid to tell:
But that from God the same at first I heard,
Described plaine in his drad Sacred word.

Caine but few nights in this bad meaning slept,
For fire in flaxe can but a while be kept:
And not long after as may well be guest,
When father, friends, and all suspected least,
Even then he takes occasion by her lock,
Singles forth Habel from his harmlesse flock,
With flattering words traines him along to walke,
The fragrant fields, holds him on still with talke,
Until at last inhumane wretch) unkind,
Base villaine curst he staid a while behind,
To find a lever that he late had laid,
Within the corn which wondrous heavy weighed,
This on his shoulder up from thence he takes,
His fatal way to his dear brother makes,
Who all this while lay in a slumber sweete,
Upon the grasse resting his weary feete,
Thinking no hurt, full of all peace and love,
His mind in heaven walking with God above;
Which when the Caitiff (varlet vile) had spied,
No longer then he could his

envy hide, But with a blow on Habels head downe right, With both his hands, and all his maine and

might, The lever laid him in that woful case, That blood and braines flew round about the

place; And lest his deede might afterwards be found, He takes his body, rakes it up i' th' ground.

84. Damn'd miscreant, unworthy that thine eyes, Should once behold the clearnesse of the skyes, What hast thou done unto thy brother deare? That thou shouldst thus about the cornefields leer, And watch a time to work that fearful fact, For which 'twere pity but thy neck were crackt. What art now the better to have seene, His crimson blood bedew the ground all greene,

His body mangled, skull to pieces beate?
How canst thou (vengence) from the Heavens

defeat ?
Dost thou not see that all begins to lowre,
The clouds to wrack, upon thy heads to pour,
Downe sulphry flames of hot consuming fires,
The sun for shame his glorious face retires;
All to grow dark, the singing birds to weepe,
To see man brought thus to his latest sleepe,
The Furies loose the Devils from Hell to roule,
Above the Earth gaping for this thy soule ?
How canst thou think to hide thy cursed deede,
When as the Fowls within the aire which breede,
The creatures all presented to thy sight,
Will murthers shew and bring the truth to light.

85. Great Nemesis the lady of the skyes, Without a maske before her nimble

eyes, On Pegasus the Horse of fame doth ride, With Justice sword close to her valliant side, Scowres through the air just at that instant time, When as the streame of Hables blood did clime, Up to the Heavens like to a smoke ascending, The clouds in sunder all betearing, rending, Casts downe her looks upon his crimson blood, Beholds the gore like to a streaming flood: No longer stays but mounteth up the throne, Of God above making a fearful moan, Tells all the cause discovereth this thy deede, Desires just judgement on thy self and seede, Imploreth all the sacred powers divine, That they would now but with herself combine, And grant her leave to take revenge on this, So foul a murther as thy fait now is. Behold a voice downe from the God of might, Revenger of the poore mans cause and right, That seldome sleepes but in the Heavens he heares, The wrongs, oppressions mournfull cries and teares, Of innocents by greatness oversway'd, By guile and treason often times betray'd, Brought to their ends by the malitious guilt, Of envious men that others blood have spilt,

Wasted their state, consum'd their lands and

life, Swallow'd their goods, contending still in strife.

86. The sacred voice out from a thunder-clap, Of dradful lightnings at that sad mishap, Thus spake to Caine hard by that fatal place, Where Habels blood lay covered in that case, With clods and moulds as even but late I told, By that vile wretch over his body rold, “Come tell me Caine the thing I shall demand, Seeke not to hunt, on no excuses stand, Halt not before me as of late thou didst, When a false heart under thy coat did hidst, What makst thou heere thus wandring all alone, Where is thy brother, whither is he gone? What is become of Habel, lov'd thee deare, That next thy Parents was to thee more neer, Than all the world, and all that therein moved, Whose faithfull mind thy presence ever loved.”

87. The graceful Villaine imprudently bold, As if he scorn’d of God to be controlld, Or askt a question from that heavenly lip, This answer straight out of his mouth let slip: “I cannot tell, for what have I to doe, To take account of Hable yea or no, Or in his presence to be tied or stay, Within the fields as heretofore to play, Tis like enough if that the sun had shin'd Above the clouds you might him chance to find, It may be that hee's feeding of his Sheepe, Upon the Downs or fallen fast asleepe, Or else you may go looke a little deeper, How can I tell, am I my brothers keeper?"

88. “Blasphemous Wretch, what hast thou done”

quoth God, " Art not afraid of my revenging Rod, But thus to spill thy

dearest brothers blood, Upon the ground in thy inhumane moode? Why (varlet) hast thou to my face belide, How canst thou thinke thy fact from me to hide,

When as the blood of this thy brother shed,
For vengence just upon thy murdering head?
Cried from the Earth making a fearfull moan,
With pitteous shrieks ascending up my throne,
That downe I came from Heaven above with speed,
To give the judgement for thy damned deed.

89. “Curst therefore art thou in thy chiefest worth Curst from the Heavens, and curst from all the

Earth, That kindnesse shewd her mouth hath opened wide, Within her womb thy brothers blood to hide, Hereafter now when thou the ground shalt till, It shall not yield nor yet thy barns shall fill: With that increase which heretofore it gave, To thy content that thou desirdst to have. A vagabond upon the spacious face Of all the Earth, roaming from place to place. With every rascal thou shalt now cologue, Base renegade, no better than a rogue, Thy days shall waste, thy glass shall hourly run, Until the thread of this thy life be spun, Content with peace, quiet, thou shalt have never : A scared conscience shall torment thee ever: And in the end even in thy fearefull sight Hells furies curst before thy face shall light, The damned Devils with all their hideous rout, Shall wind thee in, hemming thy soul about, Attending on thee till thine eyes be shut, And so devoure thee in their greedy gut."

90. The sturdy villaine with these last words stroke In woful feare his heart is wellnigh broke, Despairing quite of any helpe at all, To this sad speech doth (most prophanely) fall. O who shall rid me from these torments fell, Hacht in the Bowels of the deepest Hell, Nurc't in my breast, harbourde within my heart, That now I feel much to my paine and smart, The furies (damned) about my head I heare, My punishment is more than I can beare. A vagabond I am cast out this day, Both from the Earth, and from thy face to aye,

I shall be hid from all the world beside,
Wretch that I am, which know not where to bide:
My father, friends, will ever after hate
The soul distaste of


envious fate, And whosoever finds me one or other, Will murder me, as I have done my brother.

91. The voice (Divine) left him not thus alone In Desperation, making of his moane; But from the clouds, yet once again it spake, Perchance for Hable, or his fathers sake: Goe where thou wilt, for he that dares to lay Revenging hands upon thy head, for aye, Upon the earth, to murder, slay or kill, Which in his wrath shall seek thy blood to spill, That damned wretch both in his goods and fame, In life and death, and all that thou canst name; Even in his lands, his basket and his store: That man (I say) i'll punish seven times more. Because thou shalt not need that thing to feare, My badge (divine) for ever thou shalt wear, A fearful sign, which who soever shall eye But in thy face, my dradful judgements spy Shall see and know that I have markt thy hide, And branded thee from all the world beside.

92. Great (powerful God) Creator of this Ball, The heavens and earth the firmaments and all, How good art thou, in every action just ? Thou Hables blood beholdest in the dust, Com’st downe below, examinst first the deed, To judgement then thou dost at large proceed; And lest the same might chance neglected bee, Thou dost thyselfe the execution see: Searing Caines conscience, body, heart and liver, And marking him (as now I tolde) for ever Yet (holy father) let us know the pith, The badge and sign that thou didst brand him with.

93. Some men there be which think the mark of Cain, Was that foul, horrid, irksome, fearful paine, Scab'd Leprosy, or woful falling Evill, As if possessed with some spirit or Devil:

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