Heavenly pastime, or, Pleasant observations on all the most remarkable passages throughout the Holy Bible of the Old and New Testament newly allegoriz'd in several delightful dialogues, poems, similitudes, and divine fancies / by John Dunton, author of The sickmans passing-bell.

A Dialogue between Joseph and his Mistress.

The Argument.

The shameless Wife of Potiphar, whose Eyes Were full of Lawless love, no sooner spies The beauti••s of old Jacobs captive Son; But big with lust, she tr••es if he'l be won, To Act a thing that must displ••ase his God: But finding him avers, and that he stood At distance with the sin, her love at last Turns into rage, and he's in Prison cast.

Mistriss alone.

What a strange Passion do I feel how my heart beats, and how my blushes come and go? O me! I am all s••aver so fierce my Blood boyls in my Veins, this passion must be alay'd, yet how nothing but the beauteous Hebrews Love can satisfie my desire: Wherefore then do I refrain to let him see how much I doat upon him? He's my Slave and will not sure deny me such a favour; yet methinks had he intended to be kind, he might e're this have read the language of my Eyes, perceived my eager gazings on his lo∣vely face, observed m•• blushes, and the many gen∣tle grasps I've given him, these not regarded makes m•• ••ear he will not yield me Love for Love, and

then O me I am miserable! But see as I could wish he comes, and now the House is still, now, now I'll tell him all my mind, and stifle this tormenting Flame no longer. Wellcome my Hebrew to your Mistriss presence, how does my lovely Ioseph do, come wave this cringing distance an•• be free.

Joseph enters.

What means the consort of my Lord, by so much kindness to her Slave.

Mrs.

No, no, 'tis I'm the slave, come sit, sit down my Love, 'tis I'm the Captive fettered in the Chaines, the snares of your b••wi••ching Eyes.

Jo.

Ha! What is't I hear? A sovnd that makes my He••rt to tremble, and confounds my every part,

Mrs.

O be be not so Coy, nor Frighted, but sit near my Love: Why starts the Object of my Sole de∣light? Why change his Looks? And wherefore looks my Love so wildly? Know's he not who it is that humbly sues for favour.

Jo.

Too w••ll I know, and thus wi••h low prostration on my Knees beg you'd urge this talk no further.

Mrs.

O rise! and wound me not by a denyal! How, urge no further: Sure could you perceive the passion that thus melt my Soul to tend••rness, you'd not be thus averse, but pitty her whose Breast the fatal shafts of Love sent from your Eyes, burn with Incessant fury.

Jo.

Alas! my Master.

Mrs.

Your Master, what of him, he's far from home, his busin••ss at the Court detains him from prying into the secrets of our Love.

Jo.

But Gods all-seeing Eyes which pierce through the A••strusest secr••ts, and from w••ich the dark••st Coun∣cels are not hid behold us.

Mrs.

Pish, let not such vain fears keep back my Love, my much Loved Hebrew from m••••ting my ••ager Joyes, and seeing transports in my Arms.

Jo.

Consid••r well, you are my Masters Wife, be∣hold my Master knows not what is with me in the

House, having committed all unto my Hand; there is no greater in the House than I, neither hath he kept any thing back from me; but you because you are his Wife. How then shall I do this great wick∣edness and Sin against God.

Mrs.

O stand not on this niceties, wave, wave such fond Excuses in Compassion to a Kind Indear∣ing Mistriss, who Burns, who Languishes, and must Expire, unless your kind complyance save her Life. Still, still, you shall be great, nay more then ever.

Jo.

I dare not Sin against my God, wer't in your power to bribe me with the Scepter of the Vniverse: Therefore l••t me implore you'd name some other way that's lawfull to oblige you, and I'm all Obedient.

Mrs.

O 'tis not in thy power, in ought besides, to indear me to your intrest. Come, come my Joy, my Love, my Life, you shall, you shall I say.

Jo.

Horror and Mischief! I'll not stay, but winged with speed and resolution, leave the Tents of wicked∣ness.

Mrs.

O he's gone! he's gone! Stay, stay my Love, my Joy, my Life. O! Leave me not, I dye, I Languish if you take your presence from me; hard Hearted Man, and hast thou quite forsaken me? O Restless, Restless is my mind! What shall I do? Was ever Woman Slighted thus? Well Hebrew well, since I am thus rejected, and counted unworthy of your Love, I'll turn my Pa••sion into Mortal hate, and persecute thee with all the Malice i••jured Love can form in Womans angry mind; his Garment he has left▪ I'll Charge him to have att••mpted what I so intre••ted for, and loaded with Chains I'll have him in a Dung••on layed, where Meg••r Famine soon sh••ll wast his Beauty, and make him repent he was unkind to her who held him once as dear as h••r own Life.

The Conclusion.

Joseph, at Potiphars returns, accus'd Falsly, that he his Mistriss had Abus'd; Cast into Irons, yet finds favour there, From his Stern Ialor, God being every where At hand, to keep him from the Rage of Men, And soon's Exaulted to highstate again. A Father unto Pharoah he is made, And saves from Death old Jacob with his Bread: When fearfull Famine made the Nations Groan, So prosper those that fear the Lord alone.