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We dive to Hell and sound the deepest pits,
Ransacke the Graves, and use our utmost wits
To find a Devil, or some small sugred gall
To witch a friend, or poison him withall :
Or else perchance, if we do hap to faile,
As some there be, will not set all to sale :
Yet that which curbes them from this damned use,
I meane the Law, how do they it abuse,
Making the same the poore mans feet to tye,
The instrument of all their villanie ?

108. How are some men by greatnesse overswayd, Their Lives, Lands, Goods, and all they have

betrayd : The foote-ball made, tost up and downe by foes, Turmoyld and vext, plung'd in a world of woes, Never at peace, forc't all their state to sell, Unfortunate by envious men to dwell: Clapt up in prison, all their dayes to spend In wrangling, jangling, brangling, to noe end. There is the law where purses well are linde, To wrong the weake to satisfie their minde, The loving wife, the self same course must run, The Children small are utterly undone. When once mans heart infected is with gall, How doth it then to all foule vices fall ? Baines the whole house, leaving them all forlone, Much better farre if they were never borne: Than here to live (subjected) toyld with paine, But neare the dore to some fell envious Caine.

109. Yet Sacred Muse, even in this mortall life, The judgement, just of those delight in strife : Thou often seest upon their heads to fall, Some breake their neckes off from their horse

and fall, And some there be which wanting of their will, Have sought themselves their owne heart blood to

spill, With poison strong hastned their way to death, Or with a rope strangled their cruell breath: Usde all ill meanes to make away their lives. To childrens griefe and terrour of their wives,

Roving, invoaking, all the Damned fiends,
That all the world takes notice of their ends.

110.
Others there be that toucht before their death,
With some remorse lye languishing in breath:
Out of this life cannot at all depart,
Till they have crav'd forgivenesse from their heart,
To ease their soule their conscience over pang’d,
Have sent for those whom they before have

wrong’d Confest the Truth desirde them all to pray To God above for to be pleasde to lay No further torments, (Judgements) full of feare, Upon their backes than they can welnigh beare.

111. Those that run on their current with the tide, And all their life in envious courses bide: Deare Muse thou knowest their lowring day is

neere, When pale fac't death shall to their eyes appeare. Then shall the Devil take them within his powre, With ghastly lookes even at that dismall howre: Tortring their soules in everlasting woes, Heavens just reward for all damn’d envious foes.

112. Meane while the joyes that are layd up above, For those delight in quiet Peace and love, Which have bin wrongd with Patience much

enurde Earths stormy brunts have to their paine endurde, That yet do live suffring the wofull smart, Vexation, griefe, trouble of mind and hart, And to their end like Christain Martyrs bold, Holde on their race, as I before have told, How is there in the Heavens above the line, A sacred Crowne of purest gold most fine, Inlayd with Jems and orient Pearles of worth, More richer farre than all upon this Earth, Presery'd for those, and layd up safe in store, When all their foes must stand without the dore, In endlesse paines with all the devils of hell, And they with God above the clouds shall dwell,

Possessing there this conquering crown of life, Free from all care, vexation, trouble, strife.

113. To muster here upon a sacred stage, The Murders, Treasons, Plots in every age, Injurious dealings, treacherous actions, base, Sly cunning traps to grinde the poore mans face, Vexations, wrongs, fell viperous projects vile, As bad and worse than those which do defile, Their fowle blacke hands in Christain crimson

blood, Waste others state to do themselves no good: The damned rout of hell spurd Furies curst, That from Caines fact tooke all beginning first, Would tire my muse, and weary all my cares, Amaze your thoughts, and fill you full of feares: With wonder strike you as a man halfe dead, And set your haire upright upon your head, To see since first this world by God was fram’d, The envious deeds not fitting to be nam’d: But time divider of each day from night, Will all disclose and bring the Truth to light, Successively shall lay them open all, Just as occasion in my way may fall.

114. Meanewhile (dear Muse) let us retire againe, To shew the life of cursed envious Caine: And tell what course after this deed he tooke, How round about on every side his looke Was fearful gazing, least his fathers eye Might glance that way, and so the fact espye, And see Gods judgements on his branded skin, His blacke foule face for this vile murdring sin.

115. Asham’d, and shamelesse barbarous wretch

unkind, From thence he goes, leaves Habel dead behind: Steals out away, and pryes in every nooke, For fear his fact should bewraid by's looke: At length by Chance as he was lingring late, He finds his sister by his fathers gate, Takes her away, even in the Evening darke, As doth a Kite a simple harmlesse Larke,

And when (alas) she could not well descrye
His foule black colour by her Clowded eye.

116.
His speech she knew, which made her willing more,
To leave her Jewels, kindred, and her store,
And go with him than all the rest beside :
She little thought his hands with blood were dide,
All night they walkt, talking of this and that,
She lovely fayre, he like an ugly bat
That shuns the light, is neither bird nor beast,
Of both partakes, (a monster) at the least.
Or like to those that in our dayes do hie,
From us to Rome, from thence again do fly,
And little care so they may have their will

, Mens soules, their lives, their stute and all to spill, As was the case of that damnd murdring rout, Which from Hels bowells brought their treasons

out,
Until at last with wandring weary growne,
And want of sleepe together both lay downe,
Whilst he even then, layes open all his mind,
Tels her his love he mindes with her to binde,
That she shall be the object of his eye,
His darling deare from her to never flye,
By means of which adulterous flattring wilde,
Incestuously he gets her there with childe.

117.
But when Aurora, glory of the world
Heavens candle bright above the Earth had purld,
And began to shew a burnisht face
Upon these two, in that polluted place:
From slumbring sleepe his sister sodaine wakt,
Starts up and cryes, most fearfully she quakt,
So foul a sight by her was never seene,
Thinking the Devill in shape of Caine had beene:
Upright she stands, her hayre upon her head,
Rowzd in the light from her adulterous bed,
Faine would she run (wishing herself at home)
Cursing the time when she from thence did come,
And glad would be no longer here to stay,
But that from thence she knew not well the way.

118. Like to a lady in an evening darke, Walking alone within her pleasant parke, Thinking to meet her loving husband deere; Her father, brother, or some welcome Peere; Is by a villaine suddenly surprisde, In shape, speech, gesture all of them disguisde, Carryed away, traynd on a long to walke, Misdoubts no hurt in all his treacherous talke, But freely spends the sable lowring night, Her joyes, toyes, pleasures in her loves delight, Untill the morning of the day appeares, Draws wide heavens curtuin, all the skies it

cleares, And makes her see how she hath bin misled, By folly, guile, brought to an unknown bed : Weeps, mourns, laments, teareth her Amber

hayres, Raves, frets, and grieves, as one distracted stares. That once her body lovely chaste and pure, Should now be staind thus by a wretch impure; And that her corpes when Heavens bright candle

winkt, Should be but found close to a Monster linkt.

119. So may we judge was this young virgins case, Traynd (as I told you) from that lovely place Where father, friends, acquaintance all she had, To cast her fortunes on a varlet bed : Damn'd homocide, dame natures uglyest marke, To be betrayd thus trecherously i' th darke: The unblowne Rose defended by the thorns, Vermillion blush that both her cheeks adorns, Chaste, modest thoughts to give the soule content, When these shall be all ech in sunder rent, Deflowr'd, defact, by treason cropt and staind, To have i' th' end none but a Mungrell gain'd.

120. Thus in a maze astonisht all the while, Caine looketh up, and on her face doth smile, Gently entreats, perswades her not to feare, The sun burnt colour that his skin doth beare:

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