A10192:169
A tragedy of Abraham's sacrifice, written in frenchA tragedie of Abrahams sacrifice, written in french
A tragedy of Abraham's sacrifice, written in french by Theodore Beza, and translated into English, by A.G. Finished at Powles Belchamp in Essex, the xj. of August. 1575A tragedie of Abrahams sacrifice, written in french by Theodore Beza, and translated into Inglish, by A.G. Finished at Povvles Belchamp in Essex, the xj. of August. 1575
London: printed by Thomas Vautroullier, 1577
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.
Isaac. It is good reason that I should so do. And therewithal I will each thing address, That first this wood may be in readiness. This billet first shall gin the order here: Then this, then that shall close together near. Thus all these things are ready now and prest. My father shall provide for all the rest. And now O God I will aside retire, To pray to thee, as reason doth require.
Isaac. It is good reason that I should so doe. And therewithall I will ech thing addresse, That first this wood may be in redinesse. This billet first shall gin the order heere: Then this, then that shall cloze togither neere. Thus all these thinges are redie now and prest. My father shall prouide for all the rest. And now O God I will aside retyre, To pray to thee, as reason doth requyre.
Sarah. The more we live, the more we see, alas, What life it is that in this world we pass. Was never woman borne upon the mould, That for her husband or her issue could Herself with me in happiness compare. But yet I have endured such grief and care These last three days since they went hence, yt well I am not able for my life to tell, Which of the twain hath greater to me been, The former joy, or present pain I mean Which I have felt these last 3. days, since they Have bin away: for neither night nor day Have I taken rest, because my mind doth run On nothing but my husband and my son. And of a truth I was to blame as tho, In that I suffered them away to go, ⟨p. 31⟩And went not with them. Of the six days three, Alas but three my God, yet passed be, And yet three more my patience still must prove. Alas my God which seest me from above, Both outwardly and inwardly alway, Vouchsafe to shorten these three years I say, For were they much more shorter than they be, They be not days, but months & years to me My God, thy promise putts me out of doubt: But if thou long delay the falling out, I fear I shall have need of greater strength, To bear the pain in holding out at length. Wherefore my God, now grant thou unto me I may with joy right soon my husband see, And eke mine Isaac in mine arms embrace Returned in health and safety to this place.