17 And I poor soul, wandering through thickest of this desert, having no rest day nor night, I dwell all alone, hatching my griefs at a ⟨image 45⟩venture under covert of such small retreat as I may light upon. Alack, I hurt no body, yea I render good for evil:2 yet in stead that my desolation should cleave the heart of the most hardened, and move the fellest of them, if not to relieve me, at least not to persecute me further. I see nothing but enemies round about me, and what manner enemies: First, that great devouring Lyon, which hath spoiled, torn, and swallowed so many of my poor children from the beginning of the world: Then those Enchanters which by their coloured words and reasons, in very deed unreasonable, set together by their bible able, have suborned very many of my children, yea, some of the best wits of my company. Those snares of conscience, wolves ⟨image 45⟩masking like pastors, paunches belching out sacrileges, devouring, O God, thy people as bread, swallowing up the poor widows and orphans under shadow of prayer. What shall I say, Lord, of them that are yet worse, to wit, these cursed ones, which gnaw me within my bowels, these heretics, murderers, rending in pieces the members from the body, whereof thou art head? Very soul quellers, conjured enemies against thy trueth, turners upside down of thy right ways, mouths for the father of lies, folk without shame or conscience, razers under the name of builders: to be short, the most pernicious enemies that I have. Alas, this is not all, there is no crime which they lay not to my charge,3 no rage which exerciseth ⟨image 46⟩not it self against me: I am the daughter of peace, and yet charge they me as mother and nurse of all hurliburlies that toss and tumble the world. Patience is my mark, and yet I am accused as a stirrer of all sedition: I keep a school of all trueth, yet am I condemned as a liar, and the fountain of leasings: I pray for my very enemies, yet will they needs make me vengeable and irreconcilable. O my blessed children, whose souls by the cruelty of my desperate enemies have been thrust into heaven through all sorts of torments, and of whom the world was not worthy, join your testimonies before the eternal God, unto the complaints of your poor widow mother languishing yet in earth. O earth drunken with the blood of mine innocent children:
17 And I poore soule, wandring through thickest of this desert, hauing no rest day nor night, I dwell all alone, hatching my griefes at a ⟨image 45⟩venture vnder couert of such small retraict as I may light vpon. Alack, I hurt no body, yea I render good for euill:2 yet in steade that my desolation shoulde cleaue the heart of the most hardened, and mooue the fellest of them, if not to relieue me, at least not to persecute me further. I see nothing but enemies rounde about mee, and what maner enemies: First, that great deuouring Lyon, which hath spoyled, torne, and swallowed so many of my poore children from the beginning of the worlde: Then those Inchanters which by their coloured wordes and reasons, in very deede vnreasonable, set together by their bibble habble, haue suborned very many of my childrē, yea, some of the best wittes of my companie. Those snares of cōscience, wolues ⟨image 45⟩masking like pastours, paunches belching out sacriledges, deuouring, O God, thy people as bread, smallowing vp the poore widowes and orphanes vnder shadowe of prayer. What shall I say, Lord, of them that are yet worse, to witte, these cursed ones, which gnawe mee within my bowels, these heretiques, murderers, rending in pieces the members from the bodie, whereof thou art head? Very soule quellers, coniured enemies against thy trueth, turners vpside downe of thy right wayes, mouthes for the father of lyes, folke without shame or cōscience, rasers vnder the name of buylders: to bee short, the most pernitious enemies that I haue. Alas, this is not all, there is no crime which they laye not to my charge,3 no rage which exerciseth ⟨image 46⟩not it selfe against mee: I am the daughter of peace, and yet charge they me as mother and nource of al hurliburlies that tosse and tomble the world. Patience is my marke, and yet I am accused as a stirrer of all sedition: I keepe a schoole of all trueth, yet am I condemned as a lyar, and the fountaine of leasings: I praye for my very enemies, yet will they needes make me vengeable and irreconcilable. O my blessed children, whose soules by the crueltie of my desperate enemies haue bene thrust into heauē through all sortes of torments, and of whom the worlde was not worthie, ioyne your testimonies before the eternal God, vnto the complaintes of your poore widowe mother languishing yet in earth. O earth drunken with the blood of mine innocent childrē:
- 17 I watch and am as a sparrow alone upon the house top.7 I watch and am as a sparowe alone vpon the house top.
- 28 Mine enemies
- 3revile me daily,reuile me dayly,
