A most heauenly and plentifull treasure, or, A rich minerall full of sweetest comforts the contents the next page will shewe.

CHAPTER I.

Aleph. OVt alasse, in what estate doo I see thee, thou great and proud City? O, the pride of thy magnificent Palaces is now a∣bated. Now, all thy sumptuous and ritch shewes of thy costly buildings are come downe, and brought to rubbish. I looked on euery side of mee, to see what was become of all the braue men, which were woont to furnish thy houses, but I sawe all lye lyke a waste wildernesse.

I sought in euery place, and could finde nothing, there was no bodie to an∣swer me, and yet I called all the towne ouer. I saw nothing come out of thy Castles but iack dawes & owles. And now ô poore Citie, which sometime wert the stately dwelling place of Kings, and the Princesse of Prouinces, and the feate of the kingdome, thine honor is dead, and thou art become a most miserable widow. Sorow is now thy liuery and badge, sorrow, without end, sorrow, full of all horror, yea and sorrow, full of all despaire. For, alasse, thou sawest not only thy goods and childrē lost, but being lost, thou sawest them also put vnto most cruell paine and torment. With what eyes shall they be euer able to looke towards thee, and with what thoughts be able to remember thee, when as groaning vnder the burden of a most insuppor∣table slauery, they shall represent vnto thee, thine auncient magnificence, and their pristinate libertie? will they not all say weeping, that the Princesse of the nations is now become a most wretched slaue, and she that was won∣ted to commaund others, is become

her selfe now to be taxed? O poore and miserable Citie, thou hast now maruellously altered thine estate and condition. Weepe therefore, and sigh hardly, for, neither thy weeping, nor yet thy sighing, will these many dayes be able to match thy miseries.

Beth. She wept and wept againe, and her eyes neuer ceased. And when the Sunne arose to take his course, she began to mourne, and when he went downe, yet had she neuer made an end. All liuing creatures withdrew them selues into dolefull and darke places, and all things were silent and at rest euery where: but her plaints encreased in the darke, and the nights rest was troubled with her cryes. Her broken and trembling voyce sounded euery where, and all the whole world that heard this complayning voyce, were moued with horror and feare. Her cheekes were neuer dry, and her teares neuer ceased running. Her face was euer wet, and her eyes distil∣led continually. And alasse, how could her plaints end, when as there was no end of her miserie? She had not one onely to comfort her, no not so much

as one to wipe away her teares. All her friends forsooke her, and the neerest neighbours she had, quite and cleane left her. They that sometimes honored her good hap, do now vtterly contemne her, and they that once reuerenced her prosperitie, do now scorne and mocke her: for, some of them fled from her when she fell into miserie, and they that tarried behinde, did nothing else but dishonor her.

Gimel. Thus was poore Ierusalem and the poore Hebrewes entreated and handled in their captiuitie. And af∣ter losse, followed shame, and after domage rep••och. They went this way and that way, thinking to find some that would comfort them, but all the world pursued them. And what, the very dens of the wilde beasts were their safetie, when any went about to set vppon them, and the poore people could neyther finde caue, nor any place of repaire, safely to go into. The nature of miserie is to haue compassion on others, but the miserie of this people, encreased the hatred that was borne them. In so much as that nature it selfe is here

altered, to the end to augment the torment of these poore people.

Alasse, what a fatall ruyne is this, that can not be auoyded? For, thus they might haue sayd: If so be ye will haue our goods, ye shall haue them: if so be it be for our lands & houses that ye afflict vs, why, take them to you, and if yee persecute vs for hatred that yee beare vnto the name of our Countrey, why, wee will banish our selues thence. What would our mi∣serie haue more of vs? Why perse∣cuteth it vs when as wee are readie to flye? Doth it afflict vs that are poore wretches? and pursue vs who are banished? Wee are scattered a∣broade through out all the nations of the world, and stray and fleete about like wracks and vagabonds, we haue all the miseries that any can possibly beare, and yet haue not so much as one of the least of their comforts. And they that see vs, are voyde of com∣miseration, neyther do they looke on∣ly vncompassionately vppon vs, but scornefully also. And this was not our entertaynemēt in one place alone, but euery where: and the onely benefit

which we haue, is this, that all things are alike vnto vs in our miserie. For, persecution passeth as lightly away as we, and is present euery where with vs. For, if we thinke to escape by any vnknowne and secret place, we shall finde some thing to bewray vs, and de∣liuer vs vnto our enemies. Ha, what a thing is this? must we who are chased into all the corners of the earth, thinke to returne and hide our selues vnder the ruynes of our houses, there to re∣liue continually our griefes, in behol∣ding the hideous desolation of our Citie?

Daleth. O poore Syon, wee should then be enforced to behold thee a∣gaine with far more teares & grones, we should looke vpon the great beaten hye wayes, and say vnto our selues, What is become of all those compa∣nies that were wont to couer all these hye wayes, and where are they that were wont to come by heapes, to ho∣nor our Citie? For, all the nations both whole and some, haue come running vnto our feasts, and to the solemnities of our great sacrifices: but now, we see not so much as a man once come neere

vnto this holy Citie. There is not so much as an hermitage about it. All the wayes are couered ouer with grasse, and there is a pretie forest of briers & thistles about it. Neither can one finde and pick out the footstep of any man. These beautifull and great gates so ritchly & cunningly wrought, which in the solemne dayes were be∣long with garlands and nosegayes, are now layd all wide open vpon the ground, and broken in fitters. The Centres that layd open the wayes, are now filled and stopped vp with their ruynes: Alasse, what a change is this? And the garmēts of our Priests which went in their pontificalibus, singing with great maiestie & reuerence the pray∣ses of our God, are torne and rent in pieces as well as other mens, and do nothing else but weepe and groane. They looke vp pitifully with their eyes vnto heauen, to see whether the ri∣gour of his wrath would fall vpon them yea or no. The tender Virgines who were wont with their beauty to adorne the face of our City, as the Starres do a most glorious and cleare night, are all withered and besmeared, and

nothing but horror and astonishment in their countenances. For, extreame famine hath dried vp their flesh, cold hath bereaued them their ruddy and smooth cheekes, sorrow and griefe hath wrinkeled their faces, and the flower of their chastitie by the soul∣dier insolently defaced, hath couered all their faces with shame and disho∣nor. And these are now no more, but euen so many dead, liuing. For, they liue altogether in sorrow and griefe. Neither is there any thing that en∣courageth them more to liue, then the same dolor, which killeth them with very heauinesse, and awakeneth them out of their bitternesse.

He. A dolor truly, too too bitter, and in very deede more bitter then soote, to see them-selues carried in triumph by their greatest enemies, to see them braue by our spoyles, ritch, by our great pouertie, and mightie by our ouerthrow. Thou hast, ô Lord, poured out thy heauie wrath vppon vs, and madest vs feele how heauie thy reuengefull hand is. Thou hast, I beleeue, gathered together all our faults into a bundell once for all, be∣cause

that when thou sawest them to be so infinite, and worthie the like payne and punishment, thou awake∣nedst thy selfe, and hast discharged the arrowes of thy seuere iustice a∣gainst vs. But, ô Lord, oughtest not thou to stay the course of our punish∣ment in our owne persons, and con∣sume all thy torments vpon vs? but must we also be tormented in the per∣sons of our children, and for the ma∣king of our miserie the greater, to cause vs also to see theirs? For, wee were spoyled of our goods, put out of our houses, and led away cap∣tiue. Wee thought that there was nothing, as it were, to bee feared more then death, and yet now wee feare it not, for, it is sweet to those that are in miserie. But our speedie and quicke calamitie, to our great payne and griefe, hath now ouer∣taken vs with newe miseries. For, wee haue seene goe before vs whole bands of our children fettered, and carried captiue into Babylon, there to serue our enemyes as bond∣slaues.

Vau. Euen so hath Syon lost the flower of her youth, and all the honor of her City is cleane gone: She hath bene miserably torne all to rags, and there is no whole thing left in her, but sorrow & griefe. For, the greatest and ritchest of her inhabitants were caried away by troupes, and led into strange Prouinces, as flocks of sheepe are dri∣uen by dayes iourneys from market to market, without geuing them any leaue to feed as they go. They go with their heads and their eyes looking downe to the ground, sighing most pi∣teously. And the conqueror followeth them scourging them with rods, and they which dwell by the hye wayes sides, as they passe, laugh at their af∣fliction, and most iniuriously cry out vpon them.

Zain. And as a fresh wound openeth againe the old ones, euen so were their harts throughly pierced, whereby they remembred their old sinnes, and the punishment which their fathers suffe∣red, because they had forsaken the true seruice of God, and geuen them selues ouer vnto their foolish passions. They called also to mind, how often

they were fallen into their enemies hands when as God had left them. O, thou too too ouer late remembrance, thou shouldest haue come a great deale sooner, to haue turned them from their wicked and abhominable wayes, and if they would not haue done it for Gods sake, yet they should haue done it at least for feare of his fury which they had so often felt. O late repentance, which commeth af∣ter punishment suffred. They were ve∣ry poreblind that could not foresee this great trayne of miseries which fol∣lowed their offences. But alasse, ô blind sinne, thou doest thus bleare the eyes of thy friends, and wilt not put them in mind of their repentance but when it is all past time. For, Ierusalem hath turned her back vpon God, and followed her owne concupiscences, she hath made her a God of her owne pleasure, and worshipped her owne de∣lights. She neuer once turned her eyes towards heauen, vntill such time as she sawe her magnificence cleane vnder foote, the whole world laughing at her shame, making a scorne of her Sab∣boths, and translating and altering of

her sacrifices, wherein she had so great confidence, which could in very deed serue her to no purpose, because they were done with such polluted hands.

Heth. For, to say truly, Ierusalem was nothing else but a sinke of sinne and filthinesse: for, from the highest vnto the lowest, they were all most abhomi∣nable: for, she began to forget her God that was so fauourable vnto her, and thereupon, as one that was blinde, she stumbled & fell into all maner of wic∣kednesse. And after that she had gro∣ped about here and there at all aduen∣tures, she fell into this strange calami∣tie: and then, as many as heretofore were wont to reuerence & honor her, began forthwith to disdaine and looke sourely vpō her. For, her shame lay opē vnto the eyes of al the world, & was set before euery man as a laughing stocke, some asking her, what was become of all her wealth, some, what was become of all her honor, and there was neuer an honest womās child, which had not a gird at her. In so much that she could do nothing else but weepe, and being all ashamed and comfortlesse, she was driuen to goe hide her selfe.

Thet. And whē she saw her self alone, and in what estate she stood, she found her self from the crowne of the head to the sole of the foot, to be most filthie, and her garmēts to be most beastly be∣rayed, with bloud and mire. And as the Peacock, when he hath spread abroad his tayle, in looking at his feet, let∣teth it fall downe agayne, abating thereby his pride▪ euen so hath she plucked downe, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 heart, sorrowed within her selfe, and cared no whit for death, by reason that all things misliked her, but chiefly and aboue all, her poore and miserable life. She was giuen to be altogether sad, with∣out hauing any bodie to comfort her. For, her friends had forsaken her, or if they were neere about her, it was to none other end but to afflict her. Wherefore, when as she found no help here vpon earth, she lamentably lifted vp her head vnto heauen, & with deep sighes frō the bottome of her hart, ad∣dressed herselfe vnto God, and sayd: O Lord, hast thou not compassion vp∣pon me, in this my great affliction? Seest thou not mine extreame mise∣rie? Surely, there is none can saue me

so well as thy selfe. Come therefore if thou be the God of mercy, and forsake not thine humble and old seruant: for, mine enemy setteth his foote vpon my throate, and causeth me most shame∣fully to belch. Come therefore, ô Lord: for, my continuall iniury is thy shame, and the outrage that is done vnto a seruant, redoundeth to the mayster. And therefore, come ô Lord, for, mine enemy •…•…geth me beyond all measure, and without all pitie.

Iod. He hath layd his bloudy hand vpon that which I accompted most deere, and spared no whit of that, which I made reckning off to be most holy. Thou hast seene him enter into thy Sanctuary, and into that place which ought to haue receyued none but sanctified persons: no, none but pure and cleane soules, and such as are worthie to be partakers of the behol∣ding of thy diuine maiestie, hath seene receyued and touched, euen pollution and impietie it selfe, and seene his sa∣crilegious hands steale away the or∣naments of thy Temple, destroyed the habitation of thy deitie, and the abi∣ding place of thy grace, as if thy lawes,

and prohibitions forbidding them not to abide and carry in that place, no nor once to enter thereinto, had bene but as it were a very song. Where wert thou then, ô Lord, and although thou carest not for the iniuries which we haue receyued, why art thou not yet reuenged of the wrongs done vnto thy selfe?

Caph. Thou hast bene, ô Lord, very angry against poore Ierusalem, and hast sayd, that thou haddest no will to come to help it, by reason of the great and manifold offences thereof. It is now time, ô Lord, or else neuer, for all her miserable inhabitants goe shamefully a begging for their liuing, and haue geuen whatsoeuer good thing they haue, for a mouth full of bread, and bought full dearely the water which they haue dronke. Forsake not, ô Lord, this our earnest prayer, and turne a-little thine eyes of mercy vpon vs, for, if our pride hath heretofore estranged vs fom thee, our humilitie shall now reconcile vs vnto thee. There can be now nothing, ô Lord, to be seene so humble, vile, and abiect as we are, nor there is nothing that hath more need

of thee then we haue, neyther can there be any thing found to be more pitifull then thy selfe.

Lamed. Tell me, I beseech ye, you that passe by and see my ruines, and do consider the remayne of my great∣nesse, and then tell me if there be a∣ny thing in the whole world so mise∣rable as it is, and that euer sithence you haue had eyes, that euer you sawe any dolor like vnto mine? Tell me I pray you if euer ye were able to keepe your eyes from shedding of teares, whensoeuer ye beheld my de∣solation? I speake vnto you, I say, which haue heretofore seene this Ci∣tie so wonderfully furnished with welth & ritches, her greatnes & magnificēce, & do now behold her mōstrous spoile, do ye not thinke that you see a vine∣yard laid wide open, whereinto all sorts of beasts are entred, who haue not on∣ly spoiled the vintage of the grape, but haue also broken downe the hedges, & pluckt in sunder the very armes of the vines. And this ye see is the pleasure of God, he is iustly angry with me, & hath determined to visit me in his fury.

Mem. His vengeance is come downe

from heauen like lightning, it is come to thunder and lighten vpon me, and is entred into the very marrow of my bones, nothing can be seene to be done more suddainely, more earnest∣ly, or more powerfully. For, in a mo∣ment it is come, ouerthrowne all in a moment, and all in a minute shaken into fitters & pieces. For, my Temples and my Castles which reached vnto the clowdes, lye now euen with the groūd. Our Cities are like vnto plaine heathes, wheron you may driue Carts. God hath made me right well know, to my cost, his power and might. He hath made me heare an horrible lesson. We thought by our wisedomes to haue bene able to withstand the blow of his iustice, howbeit, there is neither wise∣dome nor councell against God. We haue bene entrapped on euery side. For whē we thought to come out, and to be in safetie, we were fast intangled in his nets, and the more haste we made to get out, the faster were we masshed, & in the end were cast downe headlong into that punishment which he had prepared for vs: like vnto the mariner, who thinking to escape a shelf

or flat, falleth into a gulfe which swal∣loweth him vp. For, our misery, is in deed a very gulfe, where our fight is taken away, and we brought back into an inaccessible wildernes, where there is none to comfort vs, in so much as that our eyes, neuer geuing ouer wee∣ping, are able inough to drowne vs in our owne teares.

Nun. I neuer ô Lord, looked to e∣scape it, for thou hast too too long had an eye vnto my sinnes, and hast deter∣mined of the punishment which I should suffer, it is ouer long ago since thou didst couple my sinnes together, and holdest them fast linked within the hand of thy iustice. In the end, I found my selfe all at once oppressed, and felt my sinnes as an hard and in∣supportable yoke, tye me fast to be tormented. I yelded my neck vnto the punishment, as an oxe vnto the yoke; vnder the hand of an vnmercifull ma∣ster. My misery gaue me no rest nor intermission so long as there was any strength in me. I might haue sayd that I was with my last master, and that God had put me into the hands of an enemy, of whome I could neuer haue

bene rid, but by departing out of this life.

Samech. What, reliefe or comfort, ô Lord, may I haue in my miseries? In what place may I lodge the rest of my hope? Thou hast vtterly extirped and rooted out the race of Iehuda, the very stalke of Kings & Prophets. And as if by laying open mine entrayles, thou mightest pluck out mine heart, euen so hast thou taken from me my braue and valiant children, by rooting out some, and sending captiue other∣some. Thou hast chosen out a very good time for thy selfe, to ruyne and sack me, and to geue me for a pray vn∣to my greatest enemies, and thou hast taken a very good order in all things for the ouerthrowing of that which I hold most deare, which I haue made chiefe choyse of, to loue, and wherein I haue setled all mine whole affection. But alasse, with what crueltie, if I may dare say so, hath Ierusalem seene all her streetes paued with the torne mem∣bers of the bodies of her poore chil∣dren. They haue bene layd vpon the rack, their bones haue bene broken in pieces, and their bloud hath run downe

the chanels like streames. There might you see the poore Virgins vtterly dis∣comforted, there is no more maydenly shamefastnesse left to coulor their fa∣ces withall, that is to say, no more of their fathers bloud to leape vp into their visages, to mixe with their teares.

Ain. Alasse, what is there left for me to do in such a strange an afflicti∣on as this, but incessantly to weepe? And therefore I will weepe, and weepe my fill. I will conuert mine eyes into fountaynes, and fill mine heart with sorrow and griefe. Ha, is it not pos∣sible, to kill my selfe with weeping? Ha, when shall I sigh so much, as that I may sigh my soule out of my body? For, seeing I haue none other consolation, and that God alone who is able to ease my misery, is farre away from me, I can hope of none other end vnto my dolor, but to suffer it con∣sume it selfe, to the end that as the flaming fire when it burneth brightest, soonest consumeth the matter which it taketh hold on, euen so the more my dolor encreaseth, the sooner it may make an end of the matter wherein it remayneth. And what other thing

should I looke to be? For, I haue lost my children, mine enemy hath gotten them into his clouches, made himself master both of me and of my goods, should I then desire to liue, to behold any longer a more continuall misery?

Phe. Poore miserable distressed Syon, hath cast open her armes, and lifted vp her hands vnto heauen, but hath not as yet found either in heauen or in earth any ayd or comfort. All the world hath runne to heare her cry, but none otherwise then as flyes do swarme about a sore, to suck and sting it. Euery one of her very neere neighbours haue encompassed her, to fleese her, and to deuide her spoyles, and all her auncient friends haue for∣saken her, and fled frō her, as mē would flye frō a loathsome diseased woman.

Sade. I feele, ô Lord, much misery, mine hart is ready to burst with very sorrow and anger, in so much as that I am enforced to cōfesse that my mise∣rie is nothing else but thy iustice, and that my sinfull hāds haue wrought me all my tormēt. I haue prouoked thine anger against me, & forced thy goodnes by mine obstinate wickednes, to take

the rods into thine own hand, to make me feele, that thou art iust, to let me vnderstand, that thou knowest my life, to make me learne, that there is no∣thing hid from thee, that thou appa∣rantly seest, what is in mine hart, and that my most secret thoughts, are vi∣sible vnto thy prouidence. I thought once to haue hidden my sinne, and therefore I must needs now confesse the punishment, and that the very strength of my sorrow, draweth out the truth from my mouth. But alasse, seeing my misery is such, and that all my comfort resteth in complayning, heare ye at the least, ô my neighbour people, my dolefull & sorrowfull voyce, and behold a little my miserie, and marke if euer ye saw any griefe com∣parable vnto mine. And seeing ye will not set to your hands to ayd me, lend me yet your eyes at the least, to haue compassion on me: and if ye be not al∣together stonie harted, weepe with me, to see my poore daughters thus led captiue into a strange countrey.

Coph. What thing is more weake, deceitfull, and vncertaine, then the force of men, and especially wh•• God

is against vs. I haue besought the ayd of all my friends, and haue looked to haue had all Egipt to come to help me, because that for to hold friendship with her, I set my selfe against the Ba∣bylonians. But alasse, I remayne alone, and am left vnto this cruell Caldean race, and therefore, all that I am now able to do, is, to detest the false faith of my false and trayterous friends, and hauing vnderstood that the succours which they promised me were to none other end but to vndoe me, and to be partakers of my spoyles, euen to con∣iure heauen and earth to be aduenged of their villanies. And yet for all this, I feele my miserie no whit lessened, neyther haue I found for all this, any whit the more succour, that my Priests and sacrificers promised me, nor seene any of those hopes wherewith they fil∣led me, nor yet any of the vayne pro∣mises, wherewith they puffed vp mine heart, it seemed to them, that they could haue ouerthrowne mine ene∣mies with bare words. They were all astonyed whē as they had felt the dan∣ger, and had in the end seene the com∣mon miserie of the whole City light

vpon their owne heads. They dyed of extreame famine, theyr Philacteries or Rochets, ne yet their long, side, and wide vestiments, were able to saue them, one might haue seene hunger bring them to their end, and with a dying voyce crauing a mouth full of bread to relieue their wretched bo∣dyes, could ••ind none to geue it them.

Rhesch. In so much, that when I had turned my selfe on euery side, and found no helpe any where, I was en∣forced my GOD, and my Lord, to runne to thee, and in bowing my knees, and lifting vp my hands, to crye out all to be blubbered with teares, saying: O Lord, if thou be a God of mercy, behold me now, for, I am so afflicted, as that my very e∣nemyes themselues haue compassion on me. I am from the crowne of the head vnto the soale of the foote full of sorrow, and there is no part of me that is not grieuously touched. Me thinketh my bowels to be pluckt in pieces within me, and am of the opi∣nion, that mine hart will riue in sun∣der. My mouth is as bitter as soote or gall, and I am eftsoones nothing else

but bitternes it selfe. For, all my words, thoughts, & deeds, are bitter, & which way so euer I turne me, I see nothing but horror and trembling: for without, the sword cutteth downe whatsoeuer stādeth before it, & the iron pardoneth nothing. My land is not knowne, it is so thicke sowne with dead bodies, and within, the estate and condition is not much more pleasant: for I see there my children afflicted with famine, and dye most pitifully, I behold them lying gastly and thinly with goggle eyes, and wide open gaping mouthes, breathing out the last gasps of death.

Sin. O what a fatall & horrible spec∣tacle is this, and yet men haue no compassion on them! They haue seene me in this estate, and yet could there not be found one that had a fellow fee∣ling of my misery, or that euer gaue me any comfortable word to mitigate my griefe. And as for mine enemies, the extremitie of my miserie made thē no more to melt, then if they had had stony hearts in their bodies, and frosen bloud in their vaines. For, all their talke was, Marke how God hath chastized, and drest her, and beaten

downe her pride. But thou knowest not ô thou tygerlike & inhumane race, how God keepeth thee. Thou thy selfe reioyc••st at my miserie, and I wil com∣fort my selfe by thine. For thou wilt shew vnto them, ô Lord God, that thou art iust all the world ouer, and that with thee, there is no acceptation of persons, that euery man hath his turne through thine hands, and that the longer thou deferrest thy vengeance, the more grieuous and terrible it is when it commeth, recompencing the forbearing thereof, with rigour and seueritie.

Tau. Enter therefore, ô Lord, into iudgemēt with mine enemies, lay open a little their doings, shew vnto them their liues, and after that thou hast caused them to know, that their con∣sciences are full of blasphemie & pol∣lution, and hast taken from them the curtain of hipocrisie which so mightely ouershadowed theyr robberies and thefts, be reuenged a little of theyr turnes, lay them vpon the rack, that they may be hard a little to cry vnder the presse of tribulations, to the end they may vnderstand, that seeing that

I haue suffered for my sinnes, that the rigour of my punishment is but as it were a summons and denunciation of theirs, and that my teares and grones, haue put out thy heauie wrath, which I kindled and lighted against my selfe, and that they haue lighted againe the same, against those which reioyced and laughed at my misery.