The Muses Elizium lately discouered, by a new way ouer Parnassus. The passages therein, being the subiect of ten sundry nymphalls, leading three diuine poemes, Noahs floud. Moses, his birth and miracles. David and Golia. By Michael Drayton Esquire.

DAVID AND GOLIAH.

OVr sacred Muse, of Israels Singer sings, That heauenly Harper, whose harmonious 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Expeld that euill Spirit which Saul possest, And of his torments of en him releast; That Princely Prophet David, whose high Layes, Immortall God, are Trumpets of thy praise, Thou Lord of hosts be helping then to me, To sing of him who hath so sung of thee,

What time great Saul after so bloody fights, Return'd a victor of th'. Amalakites, (Two hundred and ten thousand men at armes Vnder his conduct) had 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the harmes Done to Gods chosen people, when as they Came back from Egypt, troubled on their way: Saul with their blood had now manur'd the Plaines, Leading King Agag (as a slaue) in chaines: But for that Saul this Agags blood had spar'd, And'gainst the will of the Almighty dar'd To saue that man he should haue put to sword, For disobeying the Almighties word, Their larded Fatlings keeping for a prey, Which he commanded to be made a way: For which the liuing God displeased, swore

To holy Samuel, Saul should raigne no more; Samuel Gods Prophet, by whose holy hand The Oyle was pour'd (by his diuine command) Vpon the head of comely Saul when he Was chosen ouer Israel to be: But for that place another God had pointed, Which should by Samuel likewise be anointed: And this was David his most deare delight, The sonne of Ishay the iust Bethlemite Meane while this Youth like a poore Shepheard clad, (Of whom such care the God of Israel had) His fathers flock was following day by day Vpon a Desart neare at hand that lay; Whose wealthy fleeces and fat bodies he From rauenous vermine hourely va'd to free, His onely armes, his Sling and Sheephooke were, Other then those he had not vs'd to beare, With these a Woolfe oft comming from the wood, Or subtill Fox, that forrag'd for his food, He quickly slew; or if a Beare opprest With cruell hunger, hapned to molest His feeding flocks, he with such bangs him plyde, That with the prey euen in his teeth he dyde; Or if a Lion as his faire flock graz'd, Hapt to assayle it, he no whit 〈◊〉〈◊〉 At his sterne roaring, when his clutches caught At this braue Sheepheard, but such blowes him raught Till by the beard that kingly beast he shooke, And from his iawes the trembling Wether tooke; And if it chanc'i that sometime from the ayre An Eagle stoop'd a Lambe away to beare, He with a stone that from his Sling he threw, Downe from the clouds would fetch her as she flew.

His curled Tresses on his shoulders hung, To which the dewes at Morne and Eue so clung, To the beholders that they did appeare As nature threded Pearle with euery hayre:

The Bees, and Waspes, in wildernesses wilde Haue with his beauties often bin beguild, Roses and Lillies thinking they had seene, But finding there they haue deceiued beene, Play with his eyes, which them that comfort bring. That those two Sunnes would shortly get a spring; His Lippes in their pure Corrall liueries mock A row of Pales cut from a Christall Rock, Which stood within them, all of equall height. From top to toe each limbe so cleane and straight, By euery ioynt of his that one might try, Or giue true lawes to perfect Symmetry; The vermine (oft) his Sheepe that would surprize Became so charm'd with th' splendor of his eyes, That they forgot their rauine, and haue layne Downe by his flocks, as they would glad and faine Keepe them from others, that on them would prey, Or tend vpon them, that they should not stray. Whether in Cotes he had his flock in hould, Or for the Fallowes kept them in the fould, He was not idle, though not taking paines, Celestiall Lyricks singing to the Swaines, And often sitting in the silent shade, When his faire flock to rest themselues were layde, On his Lyretuned such harmonious Layes, That the Birds pearcht vpon the tender sprayes, Mad at his musick, straine themselues so much To imitate th'vnimitable tuch, Breaking their hearis, that they haue dropt to ground, And dy'd for griefe in malicing the sound. Sometimes a Stag he with his Sling would slay, Or with his Sheephooke kill a Boare at bay, Or runne a Roe so long (he was so fleet) Till it lay trembling, breathlesse, at his feet, Som times againe, he practised a fight, That from the Desart, should a Dragon light Vpon his Sheepe, the Serpent to assayle,

How by cleere skill through courage to prevaile. Then with a small stone throwne out of his Sling To hit a swallow on her height of wing, And home at night when they their Sheepe should driue, The sluggish Sheepheards lastly to reuiue, He tooke his Harpe so excellently strung, In a broad Bauldrick at his back that hung, And on the same stroke such mellodious straines, That from the Couerts as the neighboring Plaines, The Ecchoes wakt with sweetnesse of his notes, Which each to other diligently rotes; And thus his time the Lords beloued past, Till God to Samuel calling at the last;

Samuel saith he, to Bethlem take thy way, To Ishays house, and to that old man say, Out of his loynes that I will chuse a King, And when his Sonnes before thee he shall bring, Chuse out that man that I shall thee appoint, With sacred Oyle and see thou him anoint, For of them all, he's knowne to me right well The fitst to guide my people Israel.

Samuel replyes my God, it Saul shall know Vpon what businesse I to Bethlem goe, Except my blood him nothing will susfice. Take thou a Heyfer, God againe replies, And giue it out thou purposely dost goe To sacrifice; as God doth counsell, so The holy Prophet acts, and comming thither, The noblest of people get together, Doubring the Lord had angry with them bin, And had sent Samuel to reproue their sinne; But peace to all the holy Prophet cries, And then preparing to the sacrifice. The Rites perform'd, he bids old Ishay bring His Sonnes before him whilst the offering Smoak'd on the Altars (and the Elders there Stood round about with reuerence and feare)

For in his houshold he a King must chuse. Ishay who might not Gods command refuse, Cals Eliab out for Samuel to see, Who at the first thought surely this was he, Till God to Samuel said, doe not deceiue Thy selfe (weake man) but thy election leaue, Thou canst not see the scule of man, as I Who search the heart, and euery thought can try. His second sonne Abniadab then came, But this not he that Samuel must name; Then cals he Shamna his third sonne, but yet This was not he th'Almighties turne must fit, He cals for more till he had counted seauen, To none of these yet must the Oyle be giuen: Before the Prophet brother stood by brother, A tweluemonths growth one iust before another; Like seauen braue blossom'd Plants, that in the spring Nature prepar'd forth goodly fruit to bring: So comely all, that none in them could read Which one of them should any one exceed, If he exceld for louelinesse of face, Another for his person and his grace Match'd him at full, as nature meant to show Her equall bounties how she could bestow. There he beholds one brother tall and straight, Another that was wanting of his height, For his complection and his curious shape, Well neare out went him, nature let not scape Ought she could doe, in them each limbe to fit To grace the other that was next to it. When Samuel askes if these were all he had, Ishay replyes, onely his yongest Lad That in the Desart on his flocks doth tend, Samuel commands away for him to send, For till he came he vow'd he would not sit, Out 〈◊〉〈◊〉 place nor would he stirre a whit.

Before graue Samuel David soone is brought,

Vpon the Prophet which most strongly wrought When he beheld him beautifull and tall, Of goodly presence, and well shap'd withall, His cheeke a mixture of such red and white, As well with wonder might attract the sight, A sprightfull aspect, and so cleere an eye, As shot a lightning at the standers by, His euery gesture seene it in to bring The maiesty that might befit a King; All those rare parts that in his brothers were Epitomiz'd, at large in him appeare; And (in his eare) God doth the Prophet tell, This David shall be King of Israel. Whom with the sacred Oyle (instead of Saul) Samuel anointed there before them all: Which hauing done, to Rama takes his way, Lest Saul for him the country should forelay:

When Kingly David of his owne accord, Though he were then th'anointed of the Lord, And though his Sheephooke might his Scepter be, This holy Youth so humble is, that he Will back toth' fields his fathers flock to keepe, And make his subiects, (for a while) his Sheepe.

The powerfull spirit of God, redoubled grew Dayly in David, and his same now flew O'r all the Region, how he was belou'd Of Gods high Prophet, and by him approu'd; Field, Towne, and City, with his name doering, The tender Virginsto their Timbrels sing Dirtys of him, and in their rurall playes, The homely Sheepheards in their Roundelayes Record his acts, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 build him shady Bowers, The Maydens make him Anadems of flowers, And to what sport himselfe he doth apply, Let's follow David, all the people cry.

An euill spirit then sent by God possest Enraged Saul. so greeuously opprest.

With melancholly, that it craz'd his wits, And falling then into outragious fits, With cramps, with stitches and convulsions rackt, That in his pangs he oft was like to act His rage vpon himselfe, so rauing mad, And soone againe disconsolate and sad; Then with the throbs of his impatient heart, His eyes were like out of his head to start, Fomes at the mouth, and often in his paine O'r all his Court is heard to roare againe; As the strong spirit doth punish or doth spare, Euen so his fits or great, or lesser are, That Israel now doth generally lament Vpon their King Gods greeuous punishment. When some which saw this spirit possessing Saul, Amongst themselues a counsell quickly call, To search if there might remedy be found For this possession, each man doth propound His thought of curing, as by Physick some, Each man speakes what into his minde doth come, But some whose soules were rauished more hie, Whose composition was all harmony, Of th'Angels nature and did more partake, By which as Seers prophetickly they spake; (Wish holy Magick for some spirits inspir'd Which by a cleere Diuinity are fier'd, And sharpned so, each depth and hight to try, That from their reach and visibility Nature no secrets shuts, and heauen reueales Those things which else from reason it conceales) Those men conclude the spirit that thus had harm'd Their soueraigne Saul, with Musick must be charm'd.

And hauing heard of Israels deare delight, Beloued David the braue Bethlemite, What wondrous things by Musick he had done, How he fierce Tigars to his hand had wonne, Had layd the Lion, and the Beare to sleepe,

And put such spirit into his silly sheepe By his high straines, as that they durst oppose The Woolfe and Fox, their most 〈◊〉〈◊〉 foes: Of this Musitian they informe the King, And all assure him, there was no such thing For him as Musick, and this man was he That his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in this kinde must be.

When Saul dispaicht his messengers away To aged I shay, that without delay, His yong'st sonne David should to Court be sent: The speedy Post relating the intent To the old man: which in his heart was glad, For at the first he great suspition had, That angry Saul might else haue bin acquainted, By Samuels hand his sonne had bin anointed, And therefore caused David to be sought, As of his death he direly had forethought.

The good old man o'r ioy'd with this good newes, Cals home his darling from his teeming Ewes, And to the care of Israels God commends His loued boy, and kindly by him sends Of Bread and Wine a present to the King. They him no sooner to Sauls presence bring, But Davids beauty so extreamly tooke The doting King, thatin each glance or looke, He thought he saw high valour mixt with truth, And neare his person takes the louely Youth, And who but David then with mighty Saul His only fauorite is, his all in all?

Not long it is e'r Saul the spirit doth seele To stirre within him, and begins to reele, And suddainly into a Trance he fals, And with his hands lyes grasping at the wals, When David takes his well-run'd Harpe in hand. By which the spirit he meaneth to command; His quauering fingers he doth now aduance Aboue the trembling strings, which gin to dance

At his most cleere tuch, and the winged sound About the spacious Roome began to bound, The Aers flew high, and euery dainty straine Betters the former, which doth so detaine, The eares of those stood by, that they heare not Sauls sad complaints, and suddainly forgot To list or stirre him, and the standers by, Were so intransed with the melody, That to a holy madnesse some it brought, Others againe to Prophecy it wrought. The Wyery cords now shake so wondrous cleere, As one might thinke an Angels voyce to heare From euery quauer, or some spirit had pent It selfe of purpose in the Instrument; The harmony of the vntuned'st string Torments the spirit which so torments the King, Who as he faintly, or he strongly groanes, This braue Musitian altreth so his tones, With sounds so soft, as like themselues to smother, Then like lowd Ecchoes answering one the other: Then makes the spirit to shift from place to place, Still following him with a full Diapase: Thus day by day as th'euill spirit opprest Diseased Saul, David himselfe addrest, Tawayte the houres, before the King to play, Vntill he made th'vnruly fiend obay The force of Musick, more then that to feare But the least sound of Davids Harpe to heare.

When now the King by Davids cunning cur'd, Old Ishais Sonne who thought he had indur'd Restraint too long, gets leaue of Saul to goe To Bethlem back (Gods holy will was so) He rather chose to view his well-shorne Sheepe, His yeaning Ewes, and late-falne Lambes to keepe, Then on a Bed of silke himselfe repose, And the delights of the fresh fields to lose.

When now Philistia horribly enragd. With Gods owne people had it selfe engag'd, With a reuengefull deadly hand to smile The still-preseru'd oft-troubled Israelite, Who had in Battaile many times before Vpon the earth spilt her vnhallowed gore. Grim-visag'd warre, more sternely doth awake, Then it was wont, and furiously doth shake Her lightning sword, intruding with the force Of men of warre both skilfull foot and horse. Two mighty nations are now vp in armes, And to both sides the Souldiers come in swarmes: The fields with Ensignes, ast'were flowers are deckt Which their refulgence euery way reflect Vpon the Mountaines and the vallies nie And with their splendor seeme to court the skie. Two mighty Armyes on the playne appeare, These Isralites, and those Philistines were; Their great Commanders, proued men of warre: Their long experience, who had fetcht from sarre, To order fights as they occasion found T'offend the foe, by fitting with the ground, Which chosen Israels infantry doth call In this defensiue warre to follow Saul And aged Isha faithfully to show The loue to Saul, and Israel he doth owe, His eldest three into the Army sent, That to the field, as well appointed went, As on their brauery they that bare them most, Nor was there, in the Israelitish hoste Three goodlier men, especially when they Were in their Armes, the most vnclouded day That euer shone, tooke not with such delight The glad beholders, as the wondring sight Of these braue Youths, still as they marched by.

Now in the fields the mighty Armieslye On the wide champaine, each in others sight;

But as the Trumpets showte them out to fight, From the Philistians hoste a Gyant came, Whose splendrous Armes shone like a mighty flame Against the sunne; Goliah nam'd of Gath; The onely Champion that Philistia hath: This huge Colossus, then sixe Cubits height More by a handfull: and his ponderous weight. Wheresoe're he made but any little stay, Shew'd that his bredth, it answered euery way: Neuer such might in mortall man there was, From head to foot at all poynts arm'd with brasse, Fiue thousand sheckles his prou'd Curats way'd, Vpon whose temper, wondrous cost was layd: His Shield and Harnesse well might load a Teame, His Lance as big as any Weauers beame; Whose very Pyle vpon the poyse contain'd A hundred sheckles, he a lesse disdain'd: His Browes like two steepe Penthouses hung downe Ouer his eye-lids, and his angry frowne Was like a cloud, when it like Pitch appeares, And some sterne tempest in its bosome beares: His voyce was hoarse, and hollow, yet so strong, As when you heare the murmuring of a throng In some vaste arched Hall, or like as when A Lordly Lyon angred in his den, Grumbles within the earth, such his resembled, That when he spake, th' affrighted hearers trembled: His Squire before him marching to the field, Who for this Champion bare a second shield.

Vpon two easie hils the Armies laye A valley 'twixt them in the middle way: Into the midst of which, goliah came, And thus doth to the Israelites proclaime, If there be found in all your host quoth he A man so valiant, that dare fight with me, If I shall fall vnder his mighty sword, Israel shall then be the Philistinas Lord: But if I by my puissance shall preuaile

Ouer your Champion (that shall me assaile) Then as our slaues, of you we will dispose; And vse at pleasure, as our conquered foes, For he that's God of the Philistians, boasts Himselfe more powerfull then your Lord of hosts. Which challenge thus, not onely troubled Saul, But bred amazement through the host in all. For forty dayes thus vs'd he forth to goe, Offring by combate to decide it so.

Old Ishay now desiring much to heare, Of his three Sonnes (in what estate they were) Doubting lest they some needfull things might want, As in the Army, victuals might grow scant; Wherefore he cals yong Dauid from his sheepe, And to another giues his charge to keepe. My Boy quoth he, haste to the Campe and see In what estate my Sonnes your Brothers be: Beare them parcht corne, and cakes, though homely food, Yet simple cates may doe poore Souldiers good: And to the Generall, ten fine Cheeses beare, Such in the Campe are not found euery where. And if for need t' haue pawn'd ought of esteeme, Take money with you, and their Pledge redeeme. Dauid, make haste, for I desive to know 'Twixt the two puissant hosts, how businesse goe.

No maruaile Dauid in his heart were glad, That he such cause to view the Armies had: From his braue thoughts, and to himselfe he told, The wondrous things that he should there behold. The rare Deuices by great Captaines worne, The fiue-fald Plumes their Helmets that adorne. Armours with stones, and curious studs enricht, And in what state they their Pauilions pitcht, There should he see their marshalling a warre, The iron-bound Chariot, and the armed Carre: As where consisted either armies force, Which had aduantage by their foot or horse:

The seuerall weapons either nation beare, The long Sword, Bow, the Polax and the Speare: There the Philistian gallantry, and then His Israels brauery answering them agen: And heare them tell th' aduentures had bin done, As what braue man had greatest honour wonne.

Dauid bestirres him presently, and packes Vp his prouision, puts it into sackes, And by his Seruant on his Mule doth laye, Then towards Sauls Army takes the ready way. And his no tediousiourney so contriues, That in short time he at the Campe ariues: And at his comming; instantly bestowes His needfull prouant, to the charge of those That tend the Carriage, and of them doth learne (As neere as he could make them to discerne By his description) Ishas Sonnes, who led, And in the Army where they quartered: By whose direction he his Brothers sought, And told them what prouision he had brought: And to all three, their Fathers pleasure show'd, And how the Cheeses he would haue bestow'd. As they were talking, suddainly a noyse Ran through the Army, and the generall voyce, Was the Philistian, the Philistian see, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 comes, ordain'd our scourge to be. Who as his vsed manner was, defies The host of Israel, and thus loudly cryes, Bring downe your Champion, that with me dares fight, And this our warre shall be decided streight: But Israels God, for feare drawes backe his hand, Nor is there one against me that dare stand.

Which Dauid hearing, his yong bloud doth rise, And fire was seene to sparkle from his eyes: His spirits begin to startle, and his rage Admits no reason that may it asswage: No nerue of his, but to it selfe doth take

A double strength, as though his arme could shake The Iron Lance that great Goliah beares: And beate his brazen Shield about his eares. His strugling thoughts now being set a worke, Awake that flame, which lately seem'd to lurke In his meeke breast, which into passion breakes, And to himselfe thus Princely Dauid speakes.

Despised nation, Israel quoth he, Where be those valiant men that liu'd in thee, What are our soules in lesser moulds now cast, Then at the first, with time or doe they waste? What slaued people, but we can stand by, And heare this base Philistian Dogge defie God and his people, must he stand to boast His strength and valour, and in all the hoast No man dare vndertake him; might I proue My Manhood on him, I should so one remoue The worlds opinion, and both hosts should know Hee's but a Dogge, on vs that raileth so: And to one standing neere him, thus he spake, Of this huge Beast, what wonder doe ye make: What shall be done to that one man that shall Fight with this Gyant, and before ye all, His pride and horrid blasphemies shall quell, And take this shame away from Israel? When one that heard him, quickly thus replyes, He by whose hand this huge Goliah dyes, For Wise to him, Sauls Daughter shall be giuen, One of the goodliest Creatures vnder heauen; And yet this surther, his reward shall be His Fathers house in Israel shall goe free.

With this yet Dauid closeth not his eare, But of some other likewise doth enquire For his reward, the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that should slay, The formers words, which like a lesson say, None of them thinking, this yet 〈◊〉〈◊〉 man, Should strike to death the proud 〈◊〉〈◊〉

His Brother Eliab, now which ouer-heard, Young Dauids questions, and was much afeard His ouer-daring spirit might draw him on, To worke their shame, and his consusion: Thinkes with himselfe, it greatly him behooues, To checke his boldnesse, and him thus reprooues. Fond Boy, quoth he, why stand'st thou to enquire After these things, thy businesse lyes not here: I would not (sure) but you the Campe should view, A Sheepe-Coate Sir, would better sute with you: Who haue you left, after your Flocke to looke, Your Scrip (no question) or your shepheards Crooke. Sirra, my Father sent you not to vs, About the Army to lye loytering thus: I thinke'tis time to get you on your way, Our Father thinkes that we inforce your stay.

At Eliabs speeches, Dauid somewhat mon'd To heare himselfe thus scornefully reprou'd: Brother quoth he, few words might haue suffic'd, Had you but knowne how lightly they are priz'd Of me, these speeches you would haue forborne, Vpon some other and haue spent your scorne. I come to view the Campe, you say, 'tis so, And I will view it better ere I goe. Why may not I, as well as other men, I'le goe when I shall please, and not till then? When time may me more liberty alow, I may beare Armes perhaps as you doe now: Looke to your warfare, and what is your owne, Good Brother Eliab, and let me alone: For of my selfe I know how to dispose, And thus away resolued Dauid goes. And as he went, still as he heares the cry After Goliah, still more hie and hie, His spirit is mounted, and his oft demand, What his reward should be, whose valiant hand Should kill Goliah, through the Army went,

And was the common talke in euery Tent, (But in the most bred sundry doubts and feares. When as they way'd his tendernesse of yeares) Vntill his Fame, by going, getting strength In Sauls Pauilion is cry'd vp at length: Who with much speed, sent out to haue him sought, And to his presence caus'd him to be brought. Who with a constant and delightfull cheere, Comes to the King, and doth to him appeare With such a sprightfull, and maiesticke grace, As victory were written in his face: And being by Saul, demanded if 'twere he, That Israels Champion vndertooke to be; He with a meeke smile, boldly doth reply, I am the man my Soueraigne, 'tis euen I: My Leege quoth he, be not at all dismaid, Nor let Gods chosen Israel be afraid. This mighty Monster in the peoples sight, So terrible, whose shape doth so affright The multitude, I doe no more esteeme, Then if a Dwarfe, nor he to me doth seeme But such a thing, my onely enuy's this. That he is not much greater then he is. The more his strength, the more his fall will be, And Israels God more glorifi'd in me.

Quoth Saul againe, thou art of tender age, And in respect of him a very Page; Beside, the other Armes that he doth beare, Thou art not able to lift halfe his Speare: If he strike at thee, and thy body misse, Yet on his side, there this aduantage is, The winde of his huge weapon hath the force To driue the breath out of thy slender Coarse: And this vaste man, beside his wondrous might, No man as he, so skilfull is in fight; Expert in all, to Duels that belong, Train'd vp in Armes whilst yet he was but yong.

The better, answered David, if his skill Equall his strength, for what is it to kill A common man? a common thing it were, Which hapneth euery day, and euery where; But for a Giant such a one as he, Vpon the Field to be subdu'd by me, This to all Nations shall be thought a thing Worthy of Israels God, and Israels King. I haue slaine a Lion and Beare, quoth he, And what is this vncircumcis'd to me More then a Beast. That onely God of might By whose great power I conquered these in fight. In spight of humane strength and greatnesse, can Giue to my hands this proud Philistian.

When Saul thus sees that there was in his soule That courage which no danger could controule, A valour so invincible and hie, As naturally enabled him to flye Aboue all thought of perill, and to beare Him quite away beyond the bounds of feare; He caus'd an Armour for him to be brought, But first of all a garment richly wrought He puts vpon the braue youth and then bad That in those goodly Armes he should be clad Which put vpon him as to stirre he striues, He thinkes him selfe in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and Giues, Their ponderousnesse him to the earth doth presse These Armes doe make his Actiuenesse fare lesse For he before had not bin vs'd to these, Nor him at all their boistrousnesse can please, His Gorget gauld his Neck, his Ghinne beneath, And most extreamly hindred him to breath. His Curats sit too close vpon his side, He in no hand his Helmet can abide, It is so heauy, and his Temples wrings, His Pouldrons pinch him, and be cumbrous things, His Gaunlets clumsit, and doe wring his Wrists,

And be so stiffe he cannot clutch his Fists; His Guyses they so strong and stubb orne be, That for his life he cannot bend his knee; He knew not how to beare his brazen Shield, Such weapons Sheepheards were not vs'd to weeld, Their weight and their vnwildinesse was such, And they restraind his nimblenesse so much, That he prayd Saul of these he might be freed, It is not Armour that must doe the deed, Let me alone, saith he, and Ile prouide My selfe of Armes, this quarrell to decide.

When forth he goes, shot for his Sling to looke, And neare the Campe he finds a perling Brooke, Whose shallow sides with Pebbles did abound, Where seeking such as massy were and round, He picks out fiue, away with him to bring, Such as he knew would fit his trusty Sling, And in his Scrip them closely doth bestow, By which he vowes Goliabs ouerthrow.

When swift report throughout the Army runnes, That youthfull David one of Ishaes sonnes, A very 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and the yong'st of eight, With the Philistian was that day to fight; That great Goliah which so oft had brau'd Deiected Israel, and the combat crau'd With any one she to the field could bring, Now for it was so pertinent a thing, As that their freedome or subiection lay On the successe of this vnequall Fray, Th'euent thereof struck euery one with fcare, But his sad brethren most perplexed were, And to themselues thus say they: O that we So long should draw our lothed breath, to see That by the pride of this accursed Boy, Despised Israel should no more enioy Her ancientglories, but be made a slaue To proud Philistia; and our fathers graue

Slandred by him; his Family and Name Branded by David with perpetuall shame. Curst be the time that he was hither sent, Curst be the time he came into our Tent. And now and then they purposed to fly, Nor would they stay to see their brother dye, But at the very point to take their way, Bethinke themselues, it better were to stay, To seeke his scattered limbes to peeces hew'd, And see them in some obscure earth 〈◊〉〈◊〉

In this sad manner whilst they murm'ring were, David is busied listning still to heare Of great Goliah: scarce can he refraine From calling for him; now in euery vaine His blood is dancing, and a sprightly fire Takes vp his bosome, which doth him inspire With more then humane courage, nor he can Conceiue a terror to proceed from man, His nerues and sinewes to that vigor grow, As that his strength assures him he can throw Through thicker Armes, then mortall yet could weeld. Vpon the suddaine, when through all the field The word was heard, Goliah now appeares, Which Davids heart in such strange manner cheeres, As that he feeles it caper in his breast. When soone that huge vncircumcised beast, As he was wont, betweene the hosts doth come, And with his harsh voyce, like an vnbrac'd Drum, Cals to the host of Israel, where's your man You cowardly Nation, where's your Champian To vndertake me, bring him to the field, Or to Philistia your subiection yeeld. It was full Summer, and the day so cleere, As not a little cloud did once appeare; In view of either Army, the free Sunne That t'wards the noonsted halfe his course had runne, On the Philistian darting his cleere rayes,

His bright resulgent Armes so sundry wayes Reflects the bcames, as that he seemes to all Like that in painting we a Glory call, And from his Helmet sharpning like a Spyre, He lookt like to a Piramid on fire.

And now before yong David should come in, The host of Israel somewhat doth begin To rouze it selfe; some climbe the nearest Tree, And some the tops of Tents, whence they might see How this vnarmed Youth himselfe would beare Against th'all-armed Giant (which they feare) Some get vp to the fronts of easie hills; That by their motion a vast murmure fills The neighbouring Valleys, that th'enemy thought Something would by the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 be wrought They had not heard of, and they long'd to see What strange or warlike stratagem't should be.

When soone they saw a goodly Youth descend Himselfe alone, none after to attend, That at his need with armes might him supply, As meerely carelesse of his enemy. His head vncouered, and his locks of hayre As he came on being play'd with by the ayre Tost to and fro, did with such pleasuremoue, As they had beene prouocatiues for loue: His sleeues stript vp aboue his elbowes were, And in his hand a stiffe short staffe did beare, Which by the leather to it, and the string, They easily might discerne to be a Sling; Suting to these he wore a Sheepheards Scrip, Which from his side hung downe vpon his Hip. Those for a Champion that did him disdaine, Cast with themseues what such a thing should meane, Some seeing him so wonderously faire, (As in their eyes he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 beyond compare) Their verdict gaue that they had sent him sure As a choice bayte their Champion to alure;

Others againe, of iudgement more precise, Said they had sent him for a sacrifice. And though he seem'd thus to be very yong, Yet was he well proportioned and strong, And with a comely and vndaunted grace, Holding a steady and most euen pace, This way, nor that way, neuer stood to gaze, But like a man that death could not amaze, Came close vp to Goliah, and so neare As he might easily reach him with his Speare.

Which when Goliah saw, why Boy quoth he, Thou despirate Youth, thou tak'st me sure to be Some Dog (I thinke) and vnder thy command, That thus art come to beat me with a wand: The Kites and Raucns are not farre away, Nor Beasts of rauin that shall make a ptey Of a poore corpse, which they from me shall 〈◊〉〈◊〉 And their soule bowels shall be all thy 〈◊〉〈◊〉

Vncircumcised slaue quoth Dauid then, That for thy shape, the monster art of men: Thou thus in brasse com'st arm'd into the field, And thy huge Speare of brasse, of brasse thy Shield I in the name of Israels God alone, That more then mighty, that eternall one, Am come to meet thee, who bids not to feare, Nor once respect the Armes that thou dost beare. Slaue, marke the earth whereon thou now dost stand, I'le make thy length to measure so much land, As thou lyest groueling and within this houre The Birds and Beasts thy carkasse shall deuoure.

In meane time Dauid looking in his face, Betweene his temples, saw how large a space He was to hit, steps backe a yard or two, The Gyant wondring what the Youth would doe, Whose nimble hand, out of his Scrip doth bring A pebblestone, and puts it in his Sling, At which the Gyant openly doth ieere,

And as in scorne, stands leaning on his Speare, Which giues yong Dauid much content to see, And to himselfe thus secretly saith he. Stand but one minute still, stand but so fast, And haue at all Philistia at a cast. When with such slight the shot away he sent, That from his Sling as't had beene Lightning went; And him so full vpon the forehead smit, Which gaue a cracke, when his thicke scalpe it hit, As t'had bin throwne against some Rocke or Post, That the shrill clap was heard through either host. Staggering a while vpon his Speare he leant, Till on a sodaine, he began to faint; When downe he came, like an old o'regrowne Oake, His huge Roote hewne vp by the Labourers stroke, That with his very weight, he shooke the ground, His brazen armour gaue a iarring sound Like a crackt Bell, or vessell chanc't to fall From some high place, which did like death apall The proud Philistians, (hopelesse that remaine) To see their Champion great Goliah slaine: When such a shout the host of Israel gaue, As cleft the clouds, and like to men that raue, (o'rcome with comfort) crye, the Boy, the Boy, O the braue Dauid, Israels onely ioy: Gods chosen Champion, O most wondrous thing, The great Goliah slaine with a poore Sling: Themselues in compasse nor can they containe, Now are they silent, then they shoute againe. Of which no notice, Dauid seemes to take, But towards the Body of the dead doth make; With a faire comely gate, nor doth he runne, As though he gloried in what he had done. But treading on th' vncircumei'ed dead, With his foot, strikes the Helmet from his dead; Which with the sword, ta'n from the Gyantside, He from the body quickly doth diuide.

Now the Philistians at this fearefull sight, Leauing their Armes, betake themselues to flight; Quitting their Tents, nor dare a minute stay, Time wants to carry any thing away, Being strongly rowted with a generall feare; Yet in pursute, Sauls Army strikes their Reare, To Ekron walles, and slew them as they fled, That Sharams plaines lay couered with the dead: And hauing put the Philistines to foyle, Backe to the Tents retire, and take the spoyle Of what they left, and ransacking they cry, A Dauid, Dauid, and the victory,

When straight waies Saul, his Generall Abner sent For valiant Dauid, that incontinent He should repaire to Court, at whose command He comes along, and beareth in his hand The Gyants head, by th'long hayre of his crowne, Which by his actiue knee, hung dangling downe. And through the Army as he comes along, To gaze vpon him, the glad Souldiers throng: Some doe instile him Israels onely light, And other some the valiant 〈◊〉〈◊〉 With Coniayes all salute him as he past, And vpon him their gracious glances cast. He was thought base of him that did not boast, Nothing but Dauid, Dauid, through the host. The Virgins to their Timbrels frame their layes, Of him: till Saul grew iealous of his praise: But for his meed doth to his Wise receiue Sauls louely Daughter, where'tis time I leaue.

FINIS.