Divine dialogues, viz. Dive's doom, Sodom's flames and Abraham's faith containing the histories of Dives and Lazarus, the destruction of Sodom, and Abraham's sacrificing his son : to which is added Joseph reviv'd, or, The history of his life and death / by George Lesly ...

Abrahams Faith,

Hagar, Ismael, Abraham, Sarah, Midwife.

Hag.

ALas poor Boy, our comfort now is o're! I never knew what 'twas to grieve before. How often have I solac'd in the Armes Of thy dear Father? Oh! but now the charmes, Printed by Heav'n upon my Mistress face Are irresistable, alas! alas!

Ism.

Why Mother, why? was it not always so? Hag, No Child, thou'rt ignorant, thou dost not know; It is not long since Old-age and dispair Of Issue, made her self account me fair, And recommend me to my dearest Lord; Though now her piercing looks, as sharpest Sword Cut what they see. We, we are both undone, She must enjoy old Abraham alone.

Ism.

But Mother, Sarah hath no Children yet.

Hag.

I know she hath not, but the time is set For her deliv'ry; and 'twill be a Boy, To dis-inherit thee, the only joy Of me thy Mother.

Ism.

Dis-inherit me He cannot, unless Law perverted be: The Primo-geniture I'm sure is mine, Which no man shall perswade me to resign,

Hag.

I'm but the Hand-maid, Sarah is the wife; These very words may breed an endless strife I'th' Family: and Mistress without doubt, Will study means whereby to cast us out.

Sar.

My Lord can you the glories of my face Behold and not admire? Can there be place In your grave Breast, for any other flame Beside that kindled from my Eyes? then tame Your strange desires; and let your lawful Bed Bound your caresses. Know that you are Wed To Sarah now, who ceaseth to be dead And barren as before: View her from head To foot, her features and her limbs mark well, And if these please not, see her Belly swell. One Child from Heav'n may ballanc'd be with two, That come by Natures law, and mine is so.

Abr.

Dearest of Wives, this new thought on discourse, Seemeth to rise from some malitious source. What is thy will? or what dost thou desire? Would you have fewel added to the fire

That Heav'n hath kindled? Dear what do'st re∣quire?

Sar,

That you shake off your Hand-maids, and Love me, Is all I crave; I will not Rivall'd be. Kind Husbands when their Wives in my con∣dition Be, (for the most part) do with full submission Hearken to them, fearing untimely birth.

Abr.

Well Sarah, well, you are dispos'd for mirth.

Sar.

'Tis mirth to you, but I must feel the sor∣row, I think I shall be brought to Bed to morrow. Go, call the Midwife, I am very bad; I never yet such Griping torture had,

Abr.

Chear up my dearest, when thou see'st the Boy, 'Twill banish grief, and ravish thee with joy. When Males are born the trouble is forgot, And thine will be a Boy I question not.

Sar.

Pray for me Husband, this is a sharp bout.

Abr.

He who hath promis'd, he will help thee out. Midwife what news?

Mid.

You have a lovely Child, Thank Heav'n your expectation's not beguil'd.

Sar.

Take him my Lord, this Boy will make you glad.

Abr.

It is the best that e're my dearest had,

Here, take ye him, 'tis time that he were fed.

Mid.

Nay hold as yet my Lord, you've for∣feited.

Abr.

Forfeited, what?

Mid.

Good Sir, a Mid∣wives fee.

Abr.

Here take the Child, and I will give it thee. Here.

Mid.

Sir I thank you, when I women lay Of their first born, I see I'ave double pay; The next my Lady hath, my Lord will hold His hand, and will not part with so much Gold.

Abr.

I am no Niggard if that time do come, I promise thee to give a bigger sum.

Mid.

My Lord I'm but in Jest, yet may you have A num'rous issue, if you nothing gave.

Sar.

Husband you know I laughed heretofore, Have not I reason now, as many more; Then from my laughter let him have his name.

Abr.

I'ave call'd him Isaack, is not that the same?

Sar.

My Lovely Babe, come let me suckle thee. There is no Mortal can more joyful be.

Chorus.

Heav'ns mind's fulfill'd, And Sarah still••d. O how she long'd, And said I'm wrong'd. No Wife like me, Who Abra'ms be: All have their Joys, Their Babies-toys. I'm only she, Who barren be. New, now her Breasts Are made two Nests, For harbouring The lov'd Off-spring, Of her dear Lord, At Heavens word. And more she may Have that same way. Gods promises To us are bliss. No Art avails, When Heaven fails. His blessings he Bestow'd, then she Got blowen Saills.

If any after Children want, they may For remedy, with her to Heaven pray.

Abraham, Sarah, Isaack, Angel.

Ab.

Dear heart methinks this Boy hath suck'd too long.

Sar.

What? and hath neither Feet nor Tongue E're he be wean'd he must a Foot-man be, To run and prattle up and down with thee. Now do your pleasure.

Ab.

Call our friends to∣gether, He must not be a burthen to his Mother.

Isa.

Mam if I lose my pap the Child will cry.

Sar.

Yes prety thing thou must, or Mam will dye: O! how it snugs and sleeps upon my Breast; Poor rogue, I'm sure of all he loves me best. Here, thou shalt have thy bubby one month longer, E're that be o're my Chicken may be stronger: And if that will not do, He give'm another, No Love is like to that of a dear Mother. Come dry Nurse, take the Child and use him well, Thy care of him, shall make thee ever dwell With me in plenty. Abram see the scorn Of Hagar's Brat, that in my house was born; If you deceive not Heav'n which counts you just, You must him and his Mother both, out thrust; Because the Rog••e in years hath got the start, He strives with Isaack for an equal part In thy estate, but it must not be so; If me and mine you Love, pray let them go.

Ab.

What change of humours all you Women have! It is not long since you the handmaid gave, And said, of her you shall raise seed to me; I thought this was enough to make her free I'th' house, but now I see 'tis otherways, Favours of this kind, have sudden decays. However your desire I will fulfill; Hagar be gone, it is thy Mistress will.

Ang.

Well said my friend, for I desire the same, Thy Family must from Isaack have its name, And blessing too. Ab. Thy will I shall obey; Come Sirs, get up and make no more delay: The Lord commands, whose laws are all to me Just, though contrary they to nature be. This Bread and Water take, and so go hence, You have abus'd your Mistress patience; Though I know nothing, I must not controul, This peevish humour grieves my very Soul.

Chorus.

Each day hath its succeeding night, Clouds sometimes darken the Suns light. The Flowers that florid are to day, Tomorrow Frost nips quite away. Youth like a shaddow flies, and age Sayth, 'tis my turn to tread the Stage. Life must give place to grim-fac'd Death, There's nothing fixed made of Earth.

But all dance round and Circle make, While one anothers place doth take. The passions likewise have their turns, One Breast with Love and Hatred burns. One's sad, and merry, Melancholly, And all sometimes, are counted folly. Honours and pleasures are so brittle, That most wise men esteem them little. In fine there's nought but thoughts of Heaven, That bringeth Wages home at Even.

Angel, Abraham, Devil, Faith, Flesh, Despair.

Ang.

Abra'm my faithful Servant, do'st thou hear? I must give thee a visit once a year; I••ave found thee perfect always hitherto, And now I am come, to try if thou wilt do What I command thee, without stay or grudge; Remember, once thou call'd me righteous Judge.

Ab.

I'm here, speak Lord, thy Servant hears and will Count all thy precepts Just, and them fulfill.

Ang.

What could'st thou freely part withal for me?

Ab.

What could I not? since I have all from thee.

Ang.

Then thou must take thy Son, thine only Son, And sacrifice him; so my will is done.

The Mount Moriah's fittest for thy turn, There thou shalt lead young Isaack, and him burn; This action, Abraham, will please me well.

Ab.

My Lord if you command, I'le go to Hell.

Devil.

Fond fool give o're, Religion makes thee mad, Heav'ns Minions never yet rejoycing had Without a damp; their sweet is mix'd with soure, It is not possible for humane power, To act what he commands, being as strict As those, who bid men without straw make brick.

Faith.

Give o're thou murd'ring Sp'rit, do not delude, The friend of God, all whose commands are good, If he should fear or fret at his desire, Thou canst not keep him from a fiercer fire Than he is bid to kindle for his Son, That's Brimston, and will last when this is done; And yet will be no pleasing Sacrifice To God nor him, do Abraham and be wise.

Flesh.

What Father ever yet so cruel was, To Murther his own Child without a cause? View but these Limbs and features of his face, His sparkling Eyes, then there will be no space Left in thy harden'd heart, for cruelty; A faithful man will never Butcher be Of humane Bodies—

Faith.

Faint flesh, those Eyes and Features are but toys, That fade with time and age, there's greater Joys Laid up for Isaack, immortality; What needs thou care then if he burned be? Besides, hast thou not heard how Phaenix rare, Burned to ashes, doth her self repair Out of the same, being first a little Worm? If thou believe, thou need'st not fear this storm.

Despair.

Thou canst not be belov'd of God, since he Bids thee perform such monstrous cruelty: They say he's merciful, if it be so, Thou may'st lye still and never think to go To Mount Moriah, whom he loves, he loves; But this command, rather his hatred proves.

Faith.

This is an old tone, and bespeaks thee fool; Know, that he hath given ev'ry man his Soul, Which, if he back again from him requires, By Famine, Sword, or Pestilence, or Fires; 'Tis never to destroy that he doth this, But for removall to Eternal bliss.

Ab.

Give o're, give o're, now it is almost day, I will no more dispute. Believe and pray I will, for success on my loved host, I spend but time, my God is at the cost; He gave me Isaack, and desires that he In fire and flames should from the Altar be, Sent whence he came—

Sarah, Abraham, Servants.

Sar.

My Lord I fear you have a troubled head, For I could scarcely hold you in your Bed: Tell me your Dream, it fearful is I'm sure, For I have Dreamed too, and can't endure Now when awake, no not to think of it: I saw a Bow from Heav'n, bent and hit My darling.

Ab.

Sarah then our Dreams are one, God bids me go and burn my little Son.

Sar.

Burn him? alas! I see I laugh'd too soon, Then must my hopes and comforts all be gone.

Ab.

Peace Sarah, it is God requires the Lad, And he shall have him, if I twenty had. Can I bestow them better, than to give My Maker all? in whom I move and live.

Sar.

My Lord 'tis but a Dream, as yet forbear, Such things require a double Messenger.

Ab.

Dearest thou know'st my Dreams are al∣ways true, Though such a Dream as this I never knew. However, honey, let us with submission Part with the Lad, obeying Heav'ns commission; His pow'er is great, so is his mercy too, Thou know'st not what he is about to do: For I may safely with the Boy return; And if I do not, there's no cause to mourn, We are but as were, and he another May give, whom thou may'st call Isaack's Brother.

The promiser is all-sufficient, We can have no just cause then to repent Our Piety, which always promise hath, Of grace and freedom from Eternal Death.

Sar.

My Lord he is your own, and God your Friend, Obey him, mean while I will Prayers send For him to Heav'n, as soon as you are gone, And beg he may not give me cause to moan, Who laugh'd before.—

Ab.

Go Sadle me my Ass, and two of you Must go with me, where yet I do not know. Call my Boy softly, tell him he must rise, To see his Father offer Sacrifice. Go to the Log-pile, and choose out some wood, Cleave none for use, but that's exceeding good.

Ser.

Sir all is ready.

Ab.

Sarah fare thee well, Still hope in God, the Lad may live and dwell Again with thee his Mother, till he come To mans 'state: or another in his room.

Sar.

My doubts are over, may the Lord direct You in your Journey, for if he protect, Or kill the Boy, I shall leave to complain; Perhaps he doth intend a greater gain, Than either you or I as yet expect; Kiss me dear Child, and thou my God effect The present work, my Husband is but clay, And may stretch out his hand another way Than is thy will; again kiss me my Son, Then go with courage, Heav'ns will be done.

Ab.

Behold my Servants, do not you espy, Above the rest, a hill stands very high? I and my little man must yonder go, Mean while abide ye here.

Ser.

My Lord why so? May we not bear our Master company?

Ab.

No, If ye did perhaps ye'd hinder me, From acting th'highest piece of Piety, That ever yet was heard, or seen with Eye.

Ser.

Have we not seen the Sacrifice before?

Ab.

'Tis true, and yet in this will be much more Faith, Resolution, needful, than when I For smaller matters Sacrifice or pray.

Ser.

Good my Lord, let us go to see the sight.

Ab.

No, no, I cannot, it will you affright.

Ser.

We must contented be and you obey, Hoping you will not from us make long stay.

Ab.

I will return assoon as I have done, 'Twill be no pleasure to stay there alone.

Ser.

Alone you cannot be, this little Boy Can make a Wilderness a place of joy.

Ab.

But I must leave him there my God com∣mands.

Ser.

First dearest Master tye your Servants hands; For we will sooner far resolve to dye, Than see you actor of such cruelty. This is in jest.

Ab.

No, I must Sacrifice The Boy, Heav'n bids me, who I'm sure is wife; If I do freely act what he commands, He either will approve, or hold my hands.

Tnink you that I can any other thing Value above my All-sufficient King? No no, it is his mind and't shall be mine, In spight of all who 'gainst it do combine. I think his Mother hath the greatest cause, Who willingly submits to Heav'ns Lawes; Bidding me act what my good God hath said, For proof thereof, she him incouraged, To suffer valiantly—

Ser.

Sir, We are not to quest'on your intent, Being our Master; but a good event We will implore.

Ab.

Come, come my pretty boy, This cloudy day may end in Sun-shine Joy. Take up the Wood my Son, I'ave knife and fire, We must fulfillers be of Heav'ns desire.

Chorus.

Eternal Wisdom, when he made Sun, Moon and Stars, to each he said, Take you your turnes; you must the day Govern, and you your Scepter sway I'th' night, when men are gone to rest, And think to sleep with quiet Breast. This is Heav'ns Lawes, and yet we see, That men then most unquiet be. Abram from Heaven hears a voice, Which quickly marr'd his new made joys.

It bids him go and burn his Son, Which is no sooner said than done, And Sarah who in all mens thought, Would have Abraham counted nought, For harbouring such cruelty In's Breast, as he should Butcher be To his own Child; contents and says, Husband we may have happy days When Isaack's gone, then why should we, Strive Abrams hinderers to be? Go on Sir, let your high desire, Be hallowed with Heav'ns fire.

Isaack, Abraham, Angel, Epilogue.

Isa.

O Father, Father, one thing yet we lack, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Lamb for offering you'ave forgot to take. ••hall I run back and make a quick return?

Ab.

No, no, you need not, that which I must burn God will provide; come let us go together, ••e find a Lamb, my Boy, when I come thither.

Isa.

Doth any clean Beast pasture on that hill?

Ab.

That work which God begins he will fufill. ••ut hark my Child, dost thou not fear my God;

Isa.

Why doubt you that?

Ab.

Then this thy load of Wood Must thee consume.—

Isa.

But Father, doth your God such Sacrifice equire?

Ab.

It seems so now.

Isa.

Father be wise,

The Dev'l can change into a Saint of light, May be 'twas he that call'd you in the night.

Ab.

No Child, God's promise goeth far with me, Who faith, that none shall ever tempted be Above what they are able; I do not fear, Nor needest thou to shed a guiltless tear.

Isa.

My tender limbs will ne're endure the heat.

Ab.

He'll send his Angels to wipe off the sweat.

Isa.

My dearest Father, is your heart so hard? Can nothing this your enterprize retard?

Ab.

Nothing my Child, though I be full of love, And grieve to kill thee, yet since my Jehove Commands; My faith doth overcome my sense, And makes me with humanity dispence. Boy thou must dye.

Isa.

I'm glad it is for God.

Ab.

None other should have made me lay this load On Isaacks tender shoulders. Now my Child We're at the place where I must Altar build. Dig up the Turf, and let us raise the Earth.

Isa.

Ah Father I'm already out of Breath. The thoughts of Death, with the Sun's melting heat O'recometh me, Oh see how I do sweat! Is't done enough?

Abra.

Not yet, it must b•• higher, That all the ashes may fall from the fire. Now 'tis enough, come Child, bring me the Woo••

Isa.

'Tis here my Father.

Ab.

It is very good

All's done so far, my Boy thou must be bound.

Is.

Your will be done: O that I may not swoun! But with undaunted courage yield my breath, To him who power hath of life and death. ••t is my Maker's will and I submit, ••oping by him to be kept from the pit ••••fernal: He will raise me up again, With Saints and Angels ever to remain. ••ehold my hands! I'le fold them for your ease.

Ab.

Son, knew I any way my God to please, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 would not touch thee.

Isa.

I am now grown strong, ••nd valiant too, I count this death no wrong.

Abr.

Thou must get up before I bind thy feet.

Isa.

Sir, that your will I should perform is meet. ••ow bind not hard, I will not struggle much, ••ut dearest Father, kill me at first touch, ••he knife is sharp enough and you are strong.

Ab.

Dear Child I tremble, and may strike thee wrong.

Isa.

Hold Father but a little, let me pray 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Heav'n, and first Lord teach me what to say. ••y God look on me with a tender Eye, ••nd pardon all my sins of Infancy; ••••en my Eyes before the knife come down, ••hat while I live, I may leap at the Crown ••epar'd for Martyrs. Lord let me inherit, ••e blessings promis'd by thy holy Spirit. ••all, call thy Angels to receive that Soul, ••ho ne're as yet did willingly controul

Thy will. Sir, now strike on, for I have done.

Ab.

No, I must pray too, e're I can go on. O All-sufficient whose purer Eye, Look'th with abhorrence on all cruelty; Accept this Sacrifice, make strong my arm, Since thou best know'st that I intend no harm To my dear Child, but that I may the name, Receive (when done) of faithful Abraham. Lord I believe, raise feeble hand and heart To give the blow— Now Child I strike. Here. O! who holds m•• Arm?

Ang.

Stay Abram, stay, and do not any harm Unto thy Son, I minded but to try, If I could in thy faith a flaw espy. Look but behind thee, there's the Sacrifice, Lay hold of it, and let young Isaack rise; I'm sure thou lov'st me 'bove each Earthly thing Since thou wast willing to make offering Of thy own flesh: Touch not the hopeful Boy, But let him to his Mother go with Joy. This Ram thou shalt instead of him up offer, I never did intend that he should suffer.

Ab.

The best of news that ever yet were hear For though I did believe, I greatly fear'd. But bless'd be God, and let him ever be, As Abraham's so also God to thee; Let no distrust for ever Lodge within Thy Breast, thou'rt Type of him who must for

Be offer'd really; is it not best To go unto the Servants?

Isa.

There's no haste. Before approaching death I pray'd, and now Restor'd again, I'le at the Altar bow. He that is freed from danger ought with speed, To bless the hand that helpt him in his need.

Ab.

Do happy Child, and I will second thee; ••oynt Prayers welcome unto Heaven be.

Isa.

Lord let me ever with all thankfulness Adore thy name, since thou did'st not oppress, With grief my Mother, but hast saved me, That I to her may greatest comfort be ••n old age, when my Fathers hoary head, ••hew's to the World that he is almost dead. ••id me thy will perform, I'le never grudge, Being perswaded thou'rt a righteous Judge.

Ab.

Lord I can say no more than I have said, Who thee implores shall ne're want timely aid. Thy Arm is strong, Eyes quick and alwayes ready, ••o ease his Burthen, who doth carry steady; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 have endeavour'd, and my weak intention, Hath met with mercy, Heav'ns condescention.

FINIS.