A01981:327
The saints sacrifice
The saints sacrifice: or, a commentary on the CXVI. Psalm Which is, a gratulatory psalm, for deliverance from deadly distress. By William Gouge, D.D.The saints sacrifice: or, a commentarie on the CXVI. Psalme Which is, a gratulatory psalme, for deliverance from deadly distresse. By William Gouge, D.D.
London: printed by George Miller for Edward Brewster, 1632
Title page typeset from the transcription.
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
Demen. How ready thou art Thisbe to do mischief, Thou art the fire brand that hast kindled this Combustion in my heart, thou hast not been A help unto me▪ but a hinderance In the fruition of my love, by thee And by thy means I have lost my only joy, And yet for all this thou dost still incense me To run on in this way; most wicked wretch.
Demen. How readie thou art Thisbe to doe mischiefe, Thou art the fire brand that hast kindled this Combustion in my heart, thou hast not beene A helpe unto me▪ but a hinderance In the fruition of my love, by thee And by thy meanes I have lost my onely joy, And yet for all this thou dost still incense me To run on in this way; most wicked wretch.
This. Well I perceive your mind, she thinks to make me Support the fury of her frantic sits, But I shall overreach you sure in wit, And lay the saddle on the right horse back, aside. Why do you thus accuse your trusty servant? You know I did but what I was commanded, Nor ere did any thing without your warrant, If this thing happened not as you would have it. Ascribe it not to any fault in me, But rather, as you justly may, to fortune; If you will have me yet devise some way To remedy your present grief and sorrow, You shall perceive how ready my good will Shall be at your commands.
This. Well I perceive your mind, she thinkes to make me Support the fury of her franticke sits, But I shall overreach you sure in wit, And lay the saddle on the right horse backe, aside. Why do you thus accuse your trusty servant? You know I did but what I was commanded, Nor ere did any thing without your warrant, If this thing happen'd not as you would have it. Ascribe it not to any fault in me, But rather, as you justly may, to fortune; If you will have me yet devise some way To remedy your present griefe and sorrow, You shall perceive how ready my good will Shall be at your commands.