EUen then when Peace & Plen­ty, like a paire of true borne Twins kissed, & most louingly embraced one another, not on­lie in the middle center, but also in euery priuate angle and skirt of this stourishing Iland-Euen then at that swéetest in­stant of loue and amitie, when the thought of man could not haue comprehended a more blessed time, then, then I say (note but the suddaine alteration of Fortune) was transformed our so happy and prospe­rous estate. But alas why should I exclaime against Fortune, which is nothing else but the idle fantasie of ignorant men, when indéede the repentant returning from our intollerable sinnes, might haue continued our blisse and happines. What should I say? what should I write? but that our Summum bonum be­came our omnimoda miseria, our good, our worse, by that vnexpected change, such is the reward of sinne.

No sooner was the Lady of felicity (the diuine Eli­za) departed from this Chaos of iniquitie, as one too worthy the gouernment of so wicked a people, by rea­son of her gentle chasticements, but in the selfe same houre of her departure, did our almightie Father not [Page] leaue vs destitute, but gaue in place of our deceased Soueraigne, a royall King of an excellent and prince­like substance, moulded with a diuine spirit, ordained before for the full felicitie of this languishing Realme, to the end that our disobedience may blush at the sight of his so gratious respecting vs; such a Prince I say that one wrincle seated in his browe, should dart such terror to the heart of sinne, that not one of vs should dare to offende the sacred Deitie of the Almightie. But alas, such and so great was the root of wickednes grafted in our hardened hearts, that as before so still do the forward branches of horrible sinne spring vp in vs, wherwith we make vs arborss to shadowe our la­sciuious desires, vayling one sinne vnder another, without either respect or feare.

The King of Kings, the Almightie glorious Es­sence, noting the stubbornes of so stiffnecked a people, and séeing that notwithstanding all his threatnings, thundred into our eares, by his Prophets, the holy Ministers of his word, we would not repent, but still perseuer in our abhominable wickednesse; euen then when wee thought our selues most secure, and shado­wed euen vnder the wings of happines: Did the God of Iustice, the high Almighty one, commaund his An­gell to vnsheath his sword, which séemed euen to haue rusted in the scabberd, by meanes of his long suffe­ring, and much patience, and with that rod of his se­uere correction, to lay on heauy load vpon the burthe­ned backs of sinners: Oh how vnwillingly did hee procéede to this deadly medicine, like a carefull Phi­sitian, trying all salues for cure, before he put his pati­ent to extreamest paine: Yea he hath often tolde vs so, by the tongs of his Prophets, and like a louing Fa­ther sull many times intreated vs wicked and sinfull people, euen at our owne dores, to abstaine from the [Page] filthy desires of the flesh, but we regarded them not, neither was there any, no not one that feared the iudg­ments of the highest. Wherefore béeing ouercome w [...]th the intollerablenes of our sins, at last as it were breaking forth into such like words, Since they so slightly regard those whom I haue sent with the tongs of fathers, kindely intreating them to refraine from sinne, and they like disobedient children respect them not, neither him that sent them, he gaue this charge to the Angell of his iudgment. Let them féele in full measure the Iudgments of the highest: Therefore sinite them with the Plague and Pestilence, that they may know, that I the true and liuing God can bridle the lofty heads of the wicked. And forthwith was his power by his iust iudgment of Plague and Pestilence showen vnto vs, when after we had felt his scourge hea­uy vpon vs, we could then cry out and say, we haue sinned Lord, wee haue sinned, Oh forbeare thy rod &c.

You know (most kinde respected Readers) that the first stroke of visitation lighted on the very heart of this Realme, London the mother of Cities, and the Nurce of Countries, euen in the prime, and on the neck of Englands new borne happines, when the swéets of Flora began to diaper the deasie spangled pauement of the earth, vpon the high pinacles of which admired City, the messenger of God (as I may say) sitting rea­dy to strike at the commandement of the Lord, those, and in such places as his masters should giue him in chardge. At length (but yet alas too soone) fell the re­ward of sinne gently on the Skirts which we terme the Subburbs of the City. The reason why it plea­sed God to strike the exteriour members, before the interiour parts: I meane the Subburbs before the body of the City, may demonstrate vnto vs, that [Page] the Lord would yet looke downe in mercy on the body, if that the perishing of some loose members may cause repentance. For as in a faire and costly garment, af­ter it is framed by the labor of the workeman, and through his negligence, or mistaking, it chance to bee made somewhat vnfit, or with some other fault, and therefore dooth displease the owner, yet if it may bee mended by altering the skirts, or extremest parts, with­out taking asunder of the whole, he will be drawn to a better liking of it: So the Lord, that euer taketh de­light in sparing and shewing pitty, and doth seeke to recall manie into the way, by the punishment of sewe, in the first breaking forth of his wrath, began to pu­nish the skirts and subburbs of the City, that the City it selfe séeing the rod so neere, should feare betimes. And indéed the action of God so distributing and dis­piercing his iudgments, may seeme besides this, to haue had another cause, namely, the excessiue abho­mination of filthines practised in those places, more then the rest of the City. That as in a body, all the su­perfluity of extremities, are by the power of a vege­tatiue heate, wronght to the extremetie of the body: So this filthy froth of sensuall beastlinesse, beeing by the force of good gouerment, (such is the benefit of good lawes put in vse) expelled from the inner part, and as I may say, the hart of the City, did residence in the vtmost skirts and appendent members thereunto, and became a fit matter for the first burning of Gods reuengefull wrath. Afterwards, partly by the vici­nitie of place, and partly by the vnrespectiuenes of the infected, and the want of care of the sound, but especi­ally the conformity of vnrepented sinnes, kindled the like flame in the inmost places of the City it selfe. And so ere long after it so came to passe, that not only the skirts, but also the whole body of the City was in such [Page] sort infected, that the very choice, and speciall mem­bers of the body deuided themselues. I make no que­stion (iudiciall readers) but you conceaue me rightly; for this I endeuour to let you know, that I goe not a­bout to diminish the power and might of God, but this only I infer, that the visitation of the body of the Ci­ty, came likewise by the poisure of the hand of God, ra­ther then by the disorder of any one infected member, for God is almightie, al powerful, and can sooner vi­sit those that are free from affliction, then the visited themselues are able to infect: therefore the only salue to cure affliction, is to make vse of the Ancient saying of the wise Phisitian the Euangelist, Luke in his 13. Chapter and 3. verse. Except you amend your liues you shall all likewise perish. So that if we arme our selues with heartie repentance, we may be sure that no infection can haue power to harme vs. So like­wise saith Dauid in his Lxxxi. Psalme. 7. 10. and 11, verses, A thousand shall fall beside thee, and tenne thousand at thy right hand, but it shall not come nigh thee. There shal no euil happen vnto thee, neither shal any plague come nigh thy dwelling, for he shal giue his Angels charge ouer thee to keepe thee in all thy waies.

But to procéede to the miserable estate of the City, which God for his mercy cease, and inuest a new the royalll estate thereof. Long had not the hand of the Al­mighty scourged the deserued sinners of the City, to the great terror of the residue not afflicted, but Lon­don, that deare fostering mother of many thousand soules, grew into such a general contempt, that shee waxed lothsome and vglie, not onlie in the sight of her owne, borne of her owne wombe, but of Aliens and strangers well may you say, no maruell if strangers hate her whom her owne flesh and blood loued not.

How many thousand Citizens, or rather euill [Page] sonnes, as I may rightly tearme them, fled from their mother London, which might better both haue un­ployed their care in propulsing the infection from the vntainted parts, by establishing a good order, and also their money in reléeiuing y^e distressed state of those whō God singled out, to beare publique misery: then thus to haue renounced both these their duties: for though a worthy Phisitian prescribeth this as a soueraigne medecine against this contagion. Cito fugere, longe a­besse, tarde redire. Yet feare to forsake their station, and to fly from the performance of their charitable du­ties, shewes a distrustfull flying from God, flying from God do I say? Oh whither could they flie? in­to what countrey? what towne? what Citie? to liue secure, and to hide themselues from him that is all al­mighty. Flyest thou to the vtmost bownds of Europe, nay to any priuate angle of the world, why there Ie­houah is: Dost thou delue into the center of the earth? why there is God also. And as the Prophet Dauid saith in his Cxxxix Psalme. Whither shall I fly from thy spirit, or whether shall I go from thy presence, If I clime vp into heauen, thou art there; If I goe down into hell, thou art there also. If I take the winges of the morning, and remaine in the vttermost parts of the sea, euen there also shall thy hand leade mee, and thy right hand shall hold mee. Is the Lord of this might? of such power? and such wonderfull omnipo­tencie: and doest thou thinke thou art frée from his an­ger and punishment, by flying twentie miles from the place of his visitation: no surely, nay, thou knowest it thy selfe for truth: Hath he not strucken thée? or in sparing thy selfe, hath hee not visited thy wife or chil­dren? I knowe it is true, yea, to thy griefe thou hast found it true. Héereupon runnes the terrible mouthie rumour through the Country, that this vniuersall [Page] Plague comes by the meanes of thée, by thy meanes distressed Londoner, for those of the Country not iud­ging a right of the cause of this contagious disease, which is indéede the sinfulnes of all sorts, and degrées of this land: and onely looking on the outward meanes of encreasing, and propagating the same, can philoso­phize about this infection, and say, it was not so much meruaile that London (in which an infinite nomber of people are compact in so narrowe a roome) be tainted therewith. But the Country being spacious, and the aire cleare, and the houses seated in a well distant vici­nitie, might be kept vntouched, without the carelesnes of some amongst them that trading with Londoners; some rather to respect their priuate gaine, then the safe­tie of many, and also the vaine tymiditie of the Citi­zens, who dispersing themselues in the Country, and with themselues, that deadly and pestifferous poyson, drew many into the lamentable participation of their miseries. Therefore woe worth thée Londoner, saith the Country, hadst not thou béene, we had béene frée. I answere no: for assure thy selfe thou Country-man, or Townes man, whosoeuer thou be, that if thou be visited, it is thy sinne that causeth visitation, for else thou shouldest accuse God of iniustice, and improui­dence. Of improuidence, by thinking that this thy affliction commeth not to thée, by the determinate pur­pose of God, but onely by such accidentalll and out­ward casualties. Of iniustice, by not obseruing, how thy sinnes haue deserued this scourge, and that it is the iust hand of God striking. But thou looking no further then the externall occasion, frettest against thy afflicted brothers, callest into question the iustice of God, and so doest hazard loosing of that benefit, might else redownd vnto thée, by this thy visitation. But that the iustice of God, in punishing thée also with this [Page] sore affliction, may better appeare, doe but thus rea­son with thy selfe: If I commit an offence, or if ano­ther offend, is an innocent and guiltlesse man called in question? or doth the Iudge condemne thée for my of­fence? no. And shall the righteous Iudge of the world shew lesse iustice, be it farre from our thought. Cer­tainly as the Husbandman doth not set his sickle to the corne, but where it is ripe: so God doth not inflict so gréeuous a iudgement, but when our mellow sinnes doe call downe the same. Wilt thou auoide this Pe­stilence? scare thy sinne more then the Citie; if thou remoue thy sinne from the face of the Lord, the Cities contagion shal not hurt thée: but if thy sinnes remaine vnrepented, the Countries wholesomnes cannot help thée. Although I say not, that all those which escape are without sinne, or all those which perish, are most defiled there-with. Yet this, I say, that thou which dwellest in the Country, shouldst not in this thy vi­sitation, blame onely the distressed of the Citie, which being as willing to saue their liues as thou art, desire to draw the vntainted aire of the Country: and so for­get the true cause, which is sinne: but thou saist this it is hath so tainted the Country.

Truly I cannot denie, but that this meanes hath béene subordained to the will of God, in bringing to passe this iudgement; but how many thousand others hath God preserued to the ioy and comfort of their friends. And I cannot tell whether the inhumanitie of such as thou art, be not a cause of the wrath of God towards thée. But is this the onely cause? nay, is it the chiefe cause? I know the contrary, for of my know­ledge many haue themselues fetched the fire, by which their owne, and others houses haue béene inflamed: To be short, I cannot excuse many of the Londoners vnconscionable flight; yet also I cannot but accuse [Page] thine vncharitable discurtesie.

It is not long since one of the simple held argu ment against me touching that point. That had not London béene infected, the Country had béene frée, I am sure you will all hold with me, that instéede of pro­uing this assertion, he proues him selfe ignorant, and he that amongst you thinks otherwise, I pronounce him one of the same sect and fraternitie. For approba­tion whereof, note this reason gathered from your selues, doe any of you that are carefull Farmers, or tyllers of ground (after you haue sowen your graine, and that it appeareth faire aboue the ground) suffer a­nie cockle or wéede to ouer-peare it, for hindering the growth of your séede? No more wil the eternall care­full and louing Husband-man, suffer any vnsauorie wéede, I meane any sinne to ouer-pere, or ouer-sway his good séede, which are his graces, offered by the meanes of saluation he hath vouchsafed, insomuch that when he beholds sinne in his pride, and growne euen to his head of ripenes, he will suffer him no longer, but suddainly cut him off, without any further respect. And thinkest thou, that by dwelling in the healthfull aire of the Country, thou art shrouded from the pu­nishments of God. Doth hee onely hate sinne in the Citie, and not in the Country? or will he punish it in the Citie, and not in the Country? No. Where it is, there God will punish it, & all meanes are his: Thou maist (as thou hast practised) kéepe out Londoners, but not the iudgment of God. Séeing therefore thine iniquities be ripe, the time of Gods for bearing is like­wise out, that whether London had béene visited or no, thy sinne surely had caused thy destruction. Therefore let not the Country thinke, that Londons sinnes are the cause of the Countries punishment, but that their owne wickednes is their owne affliction.

[Page] But London, now do I speake to thine, I meane thy Inhabitants, thy children, how disobedient and vnnaturall they haue béen towards thee: Shall a mo­ther bring vp her children with much care, great re­spect, and greater loue, till they be of sufficient ability to helpe and maintaine themselues, and in her distresse shall they flie from her, oh vnnaturall children. Why did you so disobedient and vnkinde Londoners; you, when you saw your mother in miserie, and many of her little ones, your younger brethren in distresse, you tooke you to your héeles, and plaide the runnawayes, when you should haue succoured them, and lent them comfort in their necessitie. Hast thou any thing thou hadst not from her, or by her meanes? Hast thou not suckt life from her teate, and wealth from her stocke, and in her extremitie didst thou leaue her? if thou hadst lent her but a little reliefe now in her want, thou hadst then shewed thy gratitude in that extremitie, and she would haue repaid thée trebble for it héereafter. Nay (which is more) thy prouident care might haue contai­ned the rage of the infection, and the God of loue sée­ing thy mercifulnes to the afflicted, might haue béene moued to mercy: but before thou wouldst lend her or hers any comfort, thou wouldst spend prodigally on the Country. But I prethie examine thy selfe, and tell mee truly, what kindnes didst thou finde of the Country, hadst thou entertainment? Hardly: Hadst thou lodging? if any, thou payedst well for a bad one, and yet wert forced to dissemble thy dwelling, before thou couldest obtaine it: for indéede wert thou known to be a Londoner, thy patrimonie could not procure thée a bed, and yet thou wouldest flie from her that gaue thée both lodging, and meate for nothing.

Nay further, let vs come more néerer to the vncha­ritable country, hadst thou a brother dwelling in the [Page] Countrie, whose habilitie by his large reuenewes, might aide thée in that thy extremitie, and didst thou find a brotherlike intertainment at his hands? It may be hee had more kind nature in him, then thy mother had at thy hands, but my opinion will not beare it. For experience in mine owne trauell hath shown the contrary. I know where a man of thy stature, pro­portion, & comelie personage, whose exteriour demea­nour hath béene admired for courtlike complement, whose tongue hath pleaded more like a learned law­yer, then an vnskilfull Citizen, to a man more simple then himselfe, yea to his owne brother, and yet hath found no remorce, no comfort, hardly any meate vp­on extreame request, and for lodging a wad of straw, or a réeke of haie, which he hath béene as iocand with, as a bed of downe, when hee hath had all mortall fe­licitie to attend him.

Moreouer, I came to another place of the Coun­trie, to a towne of an excellent scituation, vppon whose battlemēts the wholsome winds whistles melo­dious notes, as if their aire warbling did not at al feare anie infection, at whose northerne gate my horse and I made entrance, no sooner had I gotten part of the gate ouer my head, but a winter-weather-beaten clowne repaires vnto me, with an old rustie bill on his necke, stand, saith he, from whence came you? The absurd fellowes rusticke behauiour, forced me to spend a little time idelie, by answering rudelie as his de­mandes were simple: Stand, saide I? Why art thou a good fellow, that thou bidst me stand, yea, that I am, saide hee: why then thou wouldest haue my purse, wouldest thou not? your purse, quoth he? why do you think that I stand here to kéepe shéepe? why no, said I, but I thinke rather to take purses: Sir, saith he, I haue taken as good a mans purse as yours before now: [Page] by my saith not vnlike, said I: why then, saide he, ne­uer tickle me in the teeth with taking a purse, but tell mée who you are, thou séest who I am, saide I, but I pray thée tel me wherefore doost thou stand here? why, (quoth he) to kéepe out Rogues, Rascols, and Lon­doners.

No sooner had he heard the name of Londoner, but the simple clowne presentlie giues way, and standing a loofe farre from mée, waues his rustie bill to and fro with these words reitterated twice or thrice.

With that, laughing heartelie at the silly hinde, to sée into what a tunerous extacie, the verie name of Lon­doner had changed him, I set spurres to my horse, and rode quite through the towne, without farther molestation.

Within the space of twenty miles distant from the towne aforesaide, I had gotten another towne ouer my head, the scituation I néed not to stand vpon, only the nature of the people, and the inhabitants there­of. The blacke shadowe of night hauing canopeide the splendant eie of day, and twilight being past, ma­king entrance into the towne, I inquired for lodging at an Inne, an Inne it had béen, and an Iune it was, but that indéed the bush or signe was taken down, for all the people told me the Iustices of the Countrey, had caused them to be taken awaie, and withall that they should lodge no strangers, which commande­ment [Page] indéede was verie stri [...]e obserued, for I could neither get lodging, normeate for any money, being driuen to such extremitie, and séeing my horse very wearie, and that I was destitute of any kinde of pro­uender, I knew not what shift to make, till at length this refuge I found: Within halfe a mile there was a very faire meadowe cut but the day before, and the hay newly made, so that wanting all other meanes, I made repaire to one of the cockes, and slipping the snaffle out of my horses mouth, tied the end of his bri­dle to my legge, so that my horse well refreshed him, whilst my selfe betooke mee to a little slumbering re­pose. No sooner had the Harbinger of light opened the windowes of the new-borne day, but (as the neces­sitie of my busines required) I went forward on my iourney. I had not rode sixe miles further from those vncharitable people, but an honest plaine fearefull Swaine méeting me, gaue me the good time of the day, and withall, saith he, Sir, if you loue your life, ride not that way, but ride vp by yonder hedge, it is not a quarter of a mile out of your way, otherwise I assure you, you will ride in great danger: I prethie honest fellow, saide I, why doest thou wish mee to leaue the way, are there any that want money, which make their stand there: no (quoth hee) but a worse matter, for there lies a Gentleman starke dead: God-a-mercy good fellow, said [...]s but if that be the worst, I will not (God willing) leaue the way; whereupon (arming my selfe with a faithfull resolution) I made towards the body, where I saw the most lamentablest spectacle that euer mine eyes were guilty of. For in the high-way close by a hedges side, there lay a very proper Gentle­man suted all in blacke, a faire scarffe about his neck, with a siluer hatched short sword hanging in it, a dag­ger sutable; and dead he was, but how long before he [Page] died, I could not learne, nor how hee died; but those that inhebited nearest to the place, tolde me, that tra­uailers suspected it was the Plague hee died of, and I could not otherwise imagine my selfe, for the cause that shewed the likeliest probability, was this; that as the Gentleman lay dead booted and spurd, so his horse (a most lamentable sight) went grasing hard by sadled and bridled.

What became of him I know not, nor how they buried him, I could not since learne, but no doubt, af­ter the ordinarie course of the Country, like a dogge; for in my trauaile I saw another dead in the like sort, but he séemed to be a Country Husbandman, with a sustian doublet, a round paire of cloath hose, and a pitchforke by him, he lay (as I was told) two or thrée dayes vnburied, vncouered I may say, for GOD knowes his buriall was simple. If the birds did sing him to the ditch his graue, why then hee had a knell, o­therwise a dogge had a more honest buriall. For the manner of his funerall was this, euen tumbled into the ditch, and couered with a little earth, this was all his buriall, and all his funerall. Oh where is Christi­anitie become? Charitie long since was key cold, but at this present, I thinke Christianitie in the Country be starke dead. Yet London, London, notwithstand­ing all thy masse of deadly sinne which thou art burthe­ned with, thou yieldest Christian buriall for thy sin­full people, yea, albeit thy receipt for dead bodies be but a spanne, in comparison of the spacious Country, yet thou hast with honest respect performed thy last obsequios and dutie to thy dead, and hast interred the liuelesse bodies, of almost fortie thousand of thy decea­sed Inhabitants, yea, and brought thy yonger children more liker to a bridall bed, then to an earthly grane, decked with odoriserous flowers and garlands, and [Page] hundreds of people with mournfull hearts attending on them. Which speciall instance of Christianitie, no doubt but the Lord will reward in mercie. There­fore thou poore remainder of that famous Citie, nowe at the last remember thy sinnes, and while thou hast time call for grace, the Lord is readie euerie minute of an houre to heare thée, he hath lent thée longer daies then thy deceased brethren, to sée if thou wilt yet turne vnto him, and leaue to sinne. But without all que­stion, if thou be stubborne, and wilt still persist in thy wickednes, as the fall of them hath beene great, thine will be greater. Wherefore while thou hast time, now in thy most miserie call to the Lord for mercie; repent thée of thy former sinnes, and perswade thy selfe, the Lord will not onely heare thée, but relieue thée, and send thée comfort in thy extremitie, for hee reioyceth more in the conuersion of one sinfull soule, then in all the glories of the greatest potentate of the world.

Experience hath euer taught vs, that if but the least member of the body be distempered, the whole body is out of quiet, much more if the head (being the principall member) be neuer so little troubled. So fares it with the body of this Land England, the ad­mired Iland of the world, whose head thou art Lon­don. distressed London, whose very eye thou art to illuminate, and lighten the darke members of the same: yea, whose Sunne thou art, which (kéeping thy diurnall course through Englands element) doest dart such comfortable influence from thy Horison, that soke vp all distilling teares of sorrowe.

But now alas, for so much as that head of ours aketh, that eye of ours winketh, and that Sunne of ours setteth, howe can that body of ours choose but pe­rish? What resteth then, but that each seuerall mem­ber according to his place, lament the heads distem­perature, [Page] endeuouring and labouring by all possible meanes, for some precious balme to cure that same deadly headake. That balme must be the mercie and compassion of the highest, which is to be obtained one­lie by prayer, with a hartie repentance of our wicked sinnes. Know wee the meanes, yet will not séeke re­dresse: Know we a salue? Yet suffer the sore to ranc­kle: no meruaile then if the Pace of death lie so hea­uie vpon vs. Why should Nature haue so little féeling in vs, that wee the inferiour members, should suffer our head to perish, when that a little, little harty sor­row, would salue a thousand wounds. Wéepe there­fore, O thou Country-man, wéepe not onely with vs, but for vs, I meane for wofull London thy head, who is nowe visited for sinne: Let not her affliction be thy securitie, let not her plagues flatter thée, and make thée thinke that thou art frée from sinne, because thy visitation is the lesse: For well maist thou perceaue, that the selfe same scourge (though not in such terri­ble manner) yet in some measure, it stealeth vpon thy Townes and Uillages. Therfore perswade thy selfe, vnlesse Londons affliction enforce thy speedie refor­mation, it is to be feared that thou wilt taste the like miserie. Wherefore with London doe thou ioyne in heartie prayers, that the Lord in mercie would looks downe vpon vs, that not onely the remainder of the Citie, but also the body of the Country may be so vni­ted together in his feare and loue, that so long as they haue any being héere in this world, his name by them may be glorified, & they glorified by him in the world to come.

But to procéed, no sooner had I mounted the vsuall walks for shepheards, the downes of Buckingham, but I might heare a Swayne tuning on his harsh pipe such notes ofsorrow, and withall singing to the [Page] same so sad an aelegie, that his pretie Ewes lest grazing, and would not séede for mourning: the effect whereof followeth.

This passionate dittie was no sooner ended, but I drewe néere the place, whence I heard that vnexpec­ted lamentation, where on a banck of mosse I found a true loue knot of Shepheards all woe begun, euen all strooken into an extacie, of whom I demaunded the cause of sorrowe, one of them more free of spirit then the rest, willing to satisfie my demaund, to the intent I might mourne with them, brake into these termes of exclamation. Oh Spring of sorrowes, Sommer of lamentations, Autumne of woes, Winter of heaui­nes, oh times of miserie, when will your contagion haue an end, your seuerall aires haue béen infectious, whereby manie thòusands haue perished. Neuer since I knew the contented life of a slvaine, did I so long sucke on the sower dug of infelicitie, for wee were [Page] wont to smile howeuer Fortune frowned, but now alas as much subiect to passion as discontent it selfe, wherefore kind stranger (saide he) perswade thy selfe, that it is some extraordinarie affliction that forceth such distilling teares from Shepheards sunne dried eies. Oh London: and there made a colon, whereuppon all the rest of the shepheards ioyntlie with him did beare seuerall parts in this sad following Eglogue.

To discribe the particular sorrowes of euery grie­ned soule, were as impossible as to number Calice sands (as the prouerb goes) the lamentation is so ge­nerall. And that not only amongst the Swaines, but the whole Countrie, and especiallie amongst Clo­thiers, and their poore seruiceable people, for since the memorie of man, almost there hath not béene knowne she like. He that was woont to emploie manie hun­dreds in his worke, cannot now help twenty poore, [Page] insomuch that it procures such emulation and malice twixt them that are wrought, and the rest wanting worke, that it euen brings a confusion amongst them. And in this case what should the Clothier doo, some come to him on their knées, some with wringing hands, some crying with Infants in their armes, but all of them with such pittifull lamentation, that it pit­ties the amazed Clothier in such sort, that he is weary of life. At length thinking to giue them reasonable satisfaction, he pleadeth, that the want of sale for cloth at London, is the cause he hath so little imployment. But alas this woulde not satisfie the poore multitude, so great is their distresse, and such an vnanswerable argument is importunate necessitie. And thus I may tell you, neuer was cloth better cheape amongst Clo­thiers, yet seldome hath wooll béene known more déere vnto them, and of money I dare say that most of them neuer knew the like want, though they haue money foorth to great value, and the cause of this, saie they, is only Londons visitation: If then the mit­tigation of the pestilent affliction laide vppon that Ci­tie, would relieue the want of many thousand poore soules, (as it is well knowne to euery one of vs it would) why then let vs vse the meanes to take away the effect, that is, praier to lessen sinne, that God in mercie would pittie Londons miserie.

And now London, once more doe I speake to thée, thou Nurse of people, so louing and kind a mother, doost thou alwaies shew thy selfe vnto thine owne, how disobedient so euer they bée, that thy armes are howerly open to receaue with ioy thy strangling chil­dren. They like idle wanderers, haue plaide the run­nawaies from thee, yet thou with teares of comfort art readie to entertaine them. And albeit, they haue trewanted long in the country, yet thou must be their [Page] refuge, thou art their foster-mother, none will enter­taine them but thou: Why then did they flie from thée? onely because thou wert touched with calamitic; and albeit thou art not yet frée, yet they are now for­ced to séeke shelter vnder thy wings, and notwithstan­ding thy aduersitie, like poore prodigals they returne of méere necessitie. Thou diddest euer loue them, though they hated thée, so were they hated euen of them to whom they fled. They fled from London to haue harbour in the Country, but woe the time that euer London knew such extremitie. Will it not be a most lamentable record to our posteritie, to reade this Index of the vncharitable nature of the Country? It cannot choose: Therefore that Londons aduersitie may now turne to prosperitie, that the rude and inhu­mane Country, may tast the wholsome comfort of the Citie, let vs all pray for Londons health and libertie. Which the God of all mercie, power, and conso­lation graunt, for the loue of that imma­culate Lambe Christ Iesus, our onely Sauiour and Redéemer.