| |
| MEANWHILE the new-baptized, who yet remained | |
| At Jordan with the Baptist, and had seen | |
| Him whom they heard so late expressly called | |
| Jesus Messiah, Son of God, declared, | |
| And on that high authority had believed, | 5 |
| And with him talked, and with him lodgedI mean | |
| Andrew and Simon, famous after known, | |
| With others, though in Holy Writ not named | |
| Now missing him, their joy so lately found, | |
| So lately found and so abruptly gone, | 10 |
| Began to doubt, and doubted many days, | |
| And, as the days increased, increased their doubt. | |
| Sometimes they thought he might be only shewn, | |
| And for a time caught up to God, as once | |
| Moses was in the Mount and missing long, | 15 |
| And the great Thisbite, who on fiery wheels | |
| Rode up to Heaven, yet once again to come. | |
| Therefore, as those young prophets then with care | |
| Sought lost Eliah, so in each place these | |
| Nigh to Bethabarain Jericho | 20 |
| The city of Palms, Ænon, and Salem old, | |
| Machærus, and each town or city walled | |
| On this side the broad lake Genezaret, | |
| Or in Peræabut returned in vain. | |
| Then on the bank of Jordan, by a creek, | 25 |
| Where winds with reeds and osiers whispering play, | |
| Plain fishermen (no greater men them call), | |
| Close in a cottage low together got, | |
| Their unexpected loss and plaints outbreathed: | |
| Alas, from what high hope to what relapse | 30 |
| Unlooked for are we fallen! Our eyes beheld | |
| Messiah certainly now come, so long | |
| Expected of our fathers; we have heard | |
| His words, his wisdom full of grace and truth. | |
| Now, now, for sure, deliverance is at hand; | 35 |
| The kingdom shall to Israel be restored: | |
| Thus we rejoiced, but soon our joy is turned | |
| Into perplexity and new amaze. | |
| For whither is he gone? what accident | |
| Hath rapt him from us? will he now retire | 40 |
| After appearance, and again prolong | |
| Our expectation? God of Israel, | |
| Send thy Messiah forth; the time is come. | |
| Behold the kings of the earth, how they oppress | |
| Thy Chosen, to what highth their power unjust | 45 |
| They have exalted, and behind them cast | |
| All fear of Thee; arise, and vindicate | |
| Thy glory; free thy people from their yoke! | |
| But let us wait; thus far He hath performed | |
| Sent his Anointed, and to us revealed him | 50 |
| By his great Prophet pointed at and shown | |
| In public, and with him we have conversed. | |
| Let us be glad of this, and all our fears | |
| Lay on his providence; He will not fail, | |
| Nor will withdraw him now, nor will recall | 55 |
| Mock us with his blest sight, then snatch him hence: | |
| Soon we shall see our hope, our joy, return. | |
| Thus they out of their plaints new hope resume | |
| To find whom at the first they found unsought. | |
| But to his mother Mary, when she saw | 60 |
| Others returned from baptism, not her Son, | |
| Nor left at Jordan tidings of him none, | |
| Within her breast though calm, her breast though pure, | |
| Motherly cares and fears got head, and raised | |
| Some troubled thoughts, which she in sight thus clad: | 65 |
| Oh, what avails me now that honour high, | |
| To have conceived of God, or that salute, | |
| Hail, highly favoured, among women blest! | |
| While I to sorrows am no less advanced, | |
| And fears as eminent above the lot | 70 |
| Of other women, by the birth I bore: | |
| In such a season born, when scarce a shed | |
| Could be obtained to shelter him or me | |
| From the bleak air? A stable was our warmth, | |
| A manger his; yet soon enforced to fly | 75 |
| Thence into Egypt, till the murderous king | |
| Were dead, who sought his life, and, missing, filled | |
| With infant blood the streets of Bethlehem. | |
| From Egypt home returned, in Nazareth | |
| Hath been our dwelling many years; his life | 80 |
| Private, unactive, calm, contemplative, | |
| Little suspicious to any king. But now, | |
| Full grown to man, acknowledged, as I hear, | |
| By John the Baptist, and in public shewn, | |
| Son owned from Heaven by his Fathers voice, | 85 |
| I looked for some great change, To honour? no; | |
| But trouble, as old Simeon plain foretold, | |
| That to the fall and rising he should be | |
| Of many in Israel, and to a sign | |
| Spoken againstthat through my very soul | 90 |
| A sword shall pierce. This is my favoured lot, | |
| My exaltation to afflictions high! | |
| Afflicted I may be, it seems, and blest! | |
| I will not argue that, nor will repine. | |
| But where delays he now? Some great intent | 95 |
| Conceals him. When twelve years he scarce had seen, | |
| I lost him, but so found as well I saw | |
| He could not lose himself, but went about | |
| His Fathers business. What he meant I mused | |
| Since understand; much more his absence now | 100 |
| Thus long to some great purpose he obscures. | |
| But I to wait with patience am inured; | |
| My heart hath been a storehouse long of things | |
| And sayings laid up, portending strange events. | |
| Thus, Mary, pondering oft, and oft to mind | 105 |
| Recalling what remarkably had passed | |
| Since first her Salutation heard, with thoughts | |
| Meekly composed awaited the fulfilling: | |
| The while her Son, tracing the desert wild, | |
| Sole, but with holiest meditations fed, | 110 |
| Into himself descended, and at once | |
| All his great work to come before him set | |
| How to begin, how to accomplish best | |
| His end of being on Earth, and mission high. | |
| For Satan, with sly preface to return, | 115 |
| Had left him vacant, and with speed was gone | |
| Up to the middle region of thick air, | |
| Where all his Potentates in council sate. | |
| There, without sign of boast, or sign of joy, | |
| Solicitous and blank, he thus began: | 120 |
| Princes, Heavens ancient Sons, Æthereal Thrones | |
| Dæmonian Spirits now, from the element | |
| Each of reign allotted, rightlier called | |
| Powers of Fire, Air, Water, and Earth beneath | |
| (So may we hold our place and these mild seats | 125 |
| Without new trouble!)such an enemy | |
| Is risen to invade us, who no less | |
| Threatens than our expulsion down to Hell. | |
| I, as I undertook, and with the vote | |
| Consenting in full frequence was impowered, | 130 |
| Have found him, viewed him, tasted him; but find | |
| Far other labour to be undergone | |
| Than when I dealt with Adam, first of men, | |
| Though Adam by his wifes allurement fell, | |
| However to this Man inferior far | 135 |
| If he be Man by mothers side, at least | |
| With more than human gifts from Heaven adorned, | |
| Perfections absolute, graces divine, | |
| And amplitude of mind to greatest deeds. | |
| Therefore I am returned, lest confidence | 140 |
| Of my success with Eve in Paradise | |
| Deceive ye to persuasion over-sure | |
| Of like succeeding here. I summon all | |
| Rather to be in readiness with hand | |
| Or counsel to assist, lest I, who erst | 145 |
| Thought none my equal, now be overmatched. | |
| So spoke the old Serpent, doubting, and from all | |
| With clamour was assured their utmost aid | |
| At his command; when from amidst them rose | |
| Belial, the dissolutest Spirit that fell, | 150 |
| The sensualest, and, after Asmodai, | |
| The fleshliest Incubus, and thus advise. | |
| Set women in his eye and in his walk, | |
| Among daughters of men the fairest found. | |
| Many are in each region passing fair | 155 |
| As the noon sky, more like to goddesses | |
| Than mortal creatures, graceful and discreet, | |
| Expert in amorous arts, enchanting tongues | |
| Persuasive, virgin majesty with mild | |
| And sweet allayed, yet terrible to approach, | 160 |
| Skilled to retire, and in retiring draw | |
| Hearts after them tangled in amorous nets. | |
| Such object hath the power to soften and tame | |
| Severest temper, smooth the ruggedst brow, | |
| Enerve, and with voluptuous hope dissolve, | 165 |
| Draw out with credulous desire, and lead | |
| At will the manliest, resolutest breast, | |
| As the magnetic hardest iron draws. | |
| Women, when nothing else, beguiled the heart | |
| Of wisest Solomon, and made him build, | 170 |
| And made him bow, to the gods of his wives. | |
| To whom quick answer Satan thus returned: | |
| Belial, in much uneven scale thou weighst | |
| All others by thyself. Because of old | |
| Thou thyself doatst on womankind, admiring | 175 |
| Their shape, their colour, and attractive grace, | |
| None are, thou thinkst, but taken with such toys. | |
| Before the Flood, thou, with thy lusty crew, | |
| False titled Sons of God, roaming the Earth, | |
| Cast wanton eyes on the daughters of men, | 180 |
| And coupled with them, and begot a race. | |
| Have we not seen, or by relation heard, | |
| In courts and regal chambers how thou lurkst, | |
| In wood or grove, by mossy fountain-side, | |
| In valley or green meadow, to waylay | 185 |
| Some beauty rare, Calisto, Clymene, | |
| Daphne, or Semele, Antiopa, | |
| Or Amymone, Syrinx, many more | |
| Too longthen layst thy scapes on names adored, | |
| Apollo, Neptune, Jupiter, or Pan, | 190 |
| Satyr, or Faun, or Silvan? But these haunts | |
| Delight not all. Among the sons of men | |
| How many have with a smile made small account | |
| Of beauty and her lures, easily scorned | |
| All her assaults, on worthier things intent! | 195 |
| Remember that Pellean conqueror, | |
| A youth, how all the beauties of the East | |
| He slightly viewed, and slightly overpassed; | |
| How he surnamed of Africa dismissed, | |
| In his prime youth, the fair Iberian maid. | 200 |
| For Solomon, he lived at ease, and, full | |
| Of honour, wealth, high fare, aimed not beyond | |
| Higher design than to enjoy his state; | |
| Thence to the bait of women lay exposed. | |
| But he whom we attempt is wiser far | 205 |
| Than Solomon, of more exalted mind, | |
| Made and set wholly on the accomplishment | |
| Of greatest things. What woman will you find, | |
| Though of this age the wonder and the fame, | |
| On whom his leisure will voutsafed an eye | 210 |
| Of fond desire? Or should she, confident, | |
| As sitting queen adored on Beautys throne, | |
| Descend with all her winning charms begirt | |
| To enamour, as the zone of Venus once | |
| Wrought that effect on Jove (so fables tell), | 215 |
| How would one look from his majestic brow, | |
| Seated as on the top of Virtues hill, | |
| Discountenance her despised, and put to rout | |
| All her array, her female pride deject, | |
| Or turn to reverent awe! For Beauty stands | 220 |
| In the admiration only of weak minds | |
| Led captive; cease to admire, and all her plumes | |
| Fall flat, and shrink into a trivial toy, | |
| At every sudden slighting quite abashed. | |
| Therefore, with manlier objects we must try | 225 |
| His constancywith such as have more shew | |
| Of worth, of honour, glory, and popular praise | |
| (Rocks whereon greatest men have oftest wrecked); | |
| Or that which only seems to satisfy | |
| Lawful desires of nature, not beyond. | 230 |
| And now I know he hungers, where no food | |
| Is to be found, in the wide Wilderness: | |
| The rest commit to me; I shall let pass | |
| No advantage, and his strength as oft assay. | |
| He ceased, and heard their grant in loud acclaim; | 235 |
| The forthwith to him takes a chosen band | |
| Of Spirits likest to himself in guile, | |
| To be at hand and at his beck appear, | |
| If cause were to unfold some active scene | |
| Of various persons, each to know his part; | 240 |
| Then to the desert takes with these his flight, | |
| Where still, from shade to shade, the Son of God, | |
| After forty days fasting, had remained, | |
| Now hungering first, and to himself thus said: | |
| Where will this end? Four times ten days I have passed | 245 |
| Wandering this woody maze, and human food | |
| Nor tasted, nor had appetite. That fast | |
| To virtue I impute not, or count part | |
| Of what I suffer here. If nature need not, | |
| Or God support nature without repast, | 250 |
| Though needing, what praise is it to endure? | |
| But now I feel I hunger; which declares | |
| Nature hath need of what she asks. Yet God | |
| Can satisfy that need some other way, | |
| Though hunger still remain. So it remain | 255 |
| Without this bodys wasting, I content me, | |
| And from the sting of famine fear no harm; | |
| Nor mind it, fed with better thoughts, that feed | |
| Me hungering more to do my Fathers will. | |
| It was the hour of night, when thus the Son | 260 |
| Communed in silent walk, then laid him down | |
| Under the hospitable covert nigh | |
| Of trees thick interwoven. There he slept, | |
| And dreamed, as appetite is wont to dream, | |
| Of meats and drinks, natures refreshment sweet. | 265 |
| Him thought he by the brook of Cherith stood, | |
| And saw the ravens with their horny beaks | |
| Food to Elijah bringing even and morn | |
| Though ravenous, taught to abstain from what they brought; | |
| He saw the Prophet also, how he fled | 270 |
| Into the desert, and how there he slept | |
| Under a juniperthen how, awaked, | |
| He found his supper on the coals prepared, | |
| And by the Angel was bid rise and eat, | |
| And eat the second time after repose, | 275 |
| The strength whereof sufficed him forty days: | |
| Sometimes that with Elijah he partook, | |
| Or as a guest with Daniel at his pulse. | |
| Thus wore out night; and now the herald Lark | |
| Left his ground-nest, high towering to descry | 280 |
| The Morns approach, and greet her with his song. | |
| As lightly from his grassy couch up rose | |
| Our Saviour, and found all was but a dream; | |
| Fasting he went to sleep, and fasting waked. | |
| Up to a hill anon his steps he reared, | 285 |
| From whose high top to ken the prospect round, | |
| If cottage were in view, sheep-cote, or herd; | |
| But cottage, herd, or sheep-cote, none he saw | |
| Only in a bottom saw a pleasant grove, | |
| With chaunt of tuneful birds resounding loud. | 290 |
| Thither he bent his way, determined there | |
| To rest at noon, and entered soon the shade | |
| High-roofed, and walks beneath, and alleys brown, | |
| That opened in the midst a woody scene; | |
| Natures own work it seemed (Nature taught Art), | 295 |
| And, to a superstitious eye, the haunt | |
| Of wood-gods and wood-nymphs. He viewed it round; | |
| When suddenly a man before him stood, | |
| Not rustic as before, but seemlier clad, | |
| As one in city or court or palace bred, | 300 |
| And with fair speech these words to him addressed: | |
| With granted leave officious I return, | |
| But much more wonder that the Son of God | |
| In this wild solitude so long should bide, | |
| Of all things destitute, and, well I know, | 305 |
| Not without hunger. Others of some note, | |
| As story tells, have trod this wilderness: | |
| The fugitive Bond-woman, with her son, | |
| Outcast Nebaioth, yet found here relief | |
| By a providing Angel; all the race | 310 |
| Of Israel here had famished, had not God | |
| Rained from heaven manna; and that Prophet bold, | |
| Native of Thebez, wandering here, was fed | |
| Twice by a voice inviting him to eat. | |
| Of thee these forty days none hath regard, | 315 |
| Forty and more deserted here indeed. | |
| To whom thus Jesus:What concludst thou hence? | |
| They all had need; I, as thou seest, have none. | |
| How hast thou hunger then? Satan replied. | |
| Tell me, if food were now before thee set, | 320 |
| Wouldst thou not eat? Thereafter as I like | |
| The giver, answered Jesus. Why should that | |
| Cause thy refusal? said the subtle Fiend. | |
| Hast thou not right to all created things? | |
| Owe not all creatures, by just right, to thee | 325 |
| Duty and service, nor to stay till bid, | |
| But tender all their power? Nor mention I | |
| Meats by the law unclean, or offered first | |
| To idolsthose young Daniel could refuse; | |
| Nor proffered by an enemythough who | 330 |
| Would scruple that, with want oppressed? Behold, | |
| Nature ashamed, or, better to express, | |
| Troubled, that thou shouldst hunger, hath purveyed | |
| From all the elements her choicest store, | |
| To treat thee as beseems, and as her Lord | 335 |
| With honour. Only deign to sit and eat. | |
| He spake no dream: for, as his words had end, | |
| Our Saviour, lifting up his eyes, beheld, | |
| In ample space under the broadest shade, | |
| A table richly spread in regal mode, | 340 |
| With dishes piled and meats of noblest sort | |
| And savour-beasts of chase, or fowl of game, | |
| In pastry built, or from the spit, or boiled, | |
| Grisamber-steamed; all fish, from sea or shore, | |
| Freshet or purling brook, of shell or fin, | 345 |
| And exquisitest name, for which was drained | |
| Pontus, and Lucrine bay, and Afric coast | |
| Alas! how simple, to these cates compared, | |
| Was that crude Apple that diverted Eve! | |
| And at a stately sideboard, by the wine, | 350 |
| That fragrant smell diffused, in order stood | |
| Tall stripling youths rich-clad, of fairer hue | |
| Than Ganymed or Hylas; distant more, | |
| Under the trees now tripped, now solemn stood, | |
| Nymphs of Dianas train, and Naiades | 355 |
| With fruits and flowers from Amaltheas horn, | |
| And ladies of the Hesperides, that seemed | |
| Fairer than feigned of old, or fabled since | |
| Of faery damsels met in forest wide | |
| By knights of Logres, or of Lyones, | 360 |
| Lancelot, or Pelleas, or Pellenore. | |
| And all the while harmonious airs were heard | |
| Of chiming strings or charming pipes; and winds | |
| Of gentlest gale Arabian odours fanned | |
| From their soft wings, and Floras earliest smells. | 365 |
| Such was the splendour; and the Tempter now | |
| His invitation earnestly renewed: | |
| What doubts the Son of God to sit and eat? | |
| These are not fruits forbidden; no interdict | |
| Defends the touching of these viands pure; | 370 |
| Their taste no knowledge works, at least of evil, | |
| But life preserves, destroys lifes enemy, | |
| Hunger, with sweet restorative delight. | |
| All these are Spirits of air, and woods, and springs, | |
| Thy gentle ministers, who come to pay | 375 |
| Thee homage, and acknowledge thee their Lord. | |
| What doubtst thou, Son of God? Sit down and eat. | |
| To whom thus Jesus temperately replied: | |
| Saidst thou not that to all things I had right? | |
| And who withholds my power that right to use? | 380 |
| Shall I receive by gift what of my own, | |
| When and where likes me best, I can command? | |
| I can at will, doubt not, as soon as thou, | |
| Command a table in this wilderness, | |
| And call swift flights of Angels ministrant, | 385 |
| Arrayed in glory, on my cup to attend: | |
| Why shouldst thou, then, obtrude this diligence | |
| In vain, where no acceptance it can find? | |
| And with my hunger what hast thou to do? | |
| Thy pompous delicacies I contemn, | 390 |
| And count thy specious gifts no gifts, but guiles. | |
| To whom thus answered Satan, malecontent: | |
| That I have also power to give thou seest; | |
| If of that power I bring thee voluntary | |
| What I might have bestowed on whom I pleased, | 395 |
| And rather opportunely in this place | |
| Chose to impart to thy apparent need, | |
| Why shouldst thou not accept it? But I see | |
| What I can do or offer is suspect. | |
| Of these things others quickly will dispose, | 400 |
| Whose pains have earned the far-fet spoil. With that | |
| Both table and provision vanished quite, | |
| With sound of harpies wings and talons heard; | |
| Only the importune Tempter still remained, | |
| And with these words his temptation pursued: | 405 |
| By hunger, that each other creature tames, | |
| Thou art not to be harmed, therefore not moved; | |
| Thy temperance, invincible besides, | |
| For no allurement yields to appetite; | |
| And all thy heart is set on high designs, | 410 |
| High actions. But wherewith to be achieved? | |
| Great acts require great means of enterprise; | |
| Thou art unknown, unfriended, low of birth, | |
| A carpenter thy father known, thyself | |
| Bred up in poverty and straits at home, | 415 |
| Lost in a desert here and hunger-bit. | |
| Which way, or from what hope, dost thou aspire | |
| To greatness? whence authority derivst? | |
| What followers, what retinue canst thou gain, | |
| Or at thy heels the dizzy multitude, | 420 |
| Longer than thou canst feed them on thy cost? | |
| Money brings honour, friends, conquest, and realms. | |
| What raised Antipater the Edomite, | |
| And his son Herod placed on Judas throne, | |
| Thy throne, but gold, that got him puissant friends? | 425 |
| Therefore, if at great things thou wouldst arrive, | |
| Get riches first, get wealth, and treasure heap | |
| Not difficult, if thou hearken to me. | |
| Riches are mine, fortune is in my hand; | |
| They whom I favour thrive in wealth amain, | 430 |
| While virtue, valour, wisdom, sit in want. | |
| To whom thus Jesus patiently replied: | |
| Yet wealth without these three is impotent | |
| To gain dominion, or to keep it gained | |
| Witness those ancient empires of the earth, | 435 |
| In highth of all their flowing wealth dissolved; | |
| But men endued with these have oft attained, | |
| In lowest poverty, to highest deeds | |
| Gideon, and Jephtha, and the shepherd lad | |
| Whose offspring on the throne of Juda sate | 440 |
| So many ages, and shall yet regain | |
| That seat, and reign in Israel without end. | |
| Among the Heathen (for throughout the world | |
| To me is not unknown what hath been done | |
| Worthy of memorial) canst thou not remember | 445 |
| Quintius, Fabricius, Curius, Regulus? | |
| For I esteem those names of men so poor, | |
| Who could do mighty things, and could contemn | |
| Riches, though offered from the hand of kings | |
| And what in me seems wanting but that I | 450 |
| May also in this poverty as soon | |
| Accomplish what they did, perhaps and more? | |
| Extol not riches, then, the toil of fools, | |
| The wise mans cumbrance, if not snare; more apt | |
| To slacken virtue and abate her edge | 455 |
| Than prompt her to do aught may merit praise. | |
| What if with like aversion I reject | |
| Riches and realms! Yet not for that a crown, | |
| Golden in shew, is but a wreath of thorns, | |
| Brings dangers, troubles, cares, and sleepless nights, | 460 |
| To him who wears the regal diadem, | |
| When on his shoulders each mans burden lies; | |
| For therein stands the office of a king, | |
| His honour, virtue, merit, and chief praise, | |
| That for the public all this weight he bears. | 465 |
| Yet he who reigns within himself, and rules | |
| Passions, desires, and fears, is more a king | |
| Which every wise and virtuous man attains; | |
| And who attains not, ill aspires to rule | |
| Cities of men, or headstrong multitudes, | 470 |
| Subject himself to anarchy within, | |
| Or lawless passions in him, which he serves. | |
| But to guide nations in the way of truth | |
| By saving doctrine, and from error lead | |
| To know, and, knowing, worship God aright, | 475 |
| Is yet more kingly. This attracts the soul, | |
| Governs the inner man, the nobler part; | |
| That other oer the body only reigns, | |
| And oft by forcewhich to a generous mind | |
| So reigning can be no sincere delight. | 480 |
| Besides, to give a kingdom hath been thought | |
| Greater and nobler done, and to lay down | |
| Far more magnanimous, than to assume. | |
| Riches are needless, then, both for themselves, | |
| And for thy reason why they should be sought | 485 |
| To gain a sceptre, oftest better missed. | |
| |