Adam. If you be so hasty, hang yourself an hour, while I come to you, for surely I will eat up my meat.
Sec. Search. Come, let's draw him away perforce.
Adam. You say there is five days yet to fast; these are your words?
Sec. Search. Ay, sir.
Adam. I am for you: come, let's away, and yet let me be put in the Chronicles. [Exeunt.
SCENE V.—The Palace of Rasni.
Enter Jonas, Rasni, Alvida, the King of Cilicia, and other Kings, royally attended.
Jonas. Come, careful king, cast off thy mournful weeds,
Exchange thy cloudy looks to smoothèd smiles;
Thy tears have pierc'd the piteous throne of grace,
Thy sighs, like incense pleasing to the Lord,
Have been peace-offerings for thy former pride:
Rejoice, and praise his name that gave thee peace.
And you, fair nymphs, ye lovely Ninevites,
Since you have wept and fasted 'fore the Lord,
He graciously hath temper'd his revenge:
Beware henceforth to tempt him any more:
Let not the niceness of your beauteous looks
Engraft in you a high-presuming mind;
For those that climb he casteth to the ground,
And they that humble be he lifts aloft.
Rasni. Lowly I bend with awful bent of eye,
Before the dread Jehovah, God of hosts,
Despising all profane device of man.
Those lustful lures, that whilom led awry
My wanton eyes, shall wound my heart no more;
And she, whose youth in dalliance I abus'd,
Shall now at last become my wedlock-mate.—
Fair Alvida, look not so wo-begone;
If for thy sin thy sorrow do exceed,
Blessèd be thou; come, with a holy band
Let's knit a knot to salve our former shame.
Alvi. With blushing looks, betokening my remorse,
I lowly yield, my king, to thy behest,
So as this man of God shall think it good.
Jonas. Woman, amends may never come too late;
A will to practise good is virtuous:
The God of heaven, when sinners do repent,
Doth more rejoice than in ten thousand just.
Rasni. Then witness, holy prophet, our accord.
Alvi. Plight in the presence of the Lord thy God.
Jonas. Blest may you be, like to the flowering sheaves
That play with gentle winds in summer-tide;
Like olive-branches let your children spread,
And as the pines in lofty Lebanon,
Or as the kids that feed on Sepher[130] plains,
So be the seed and offspring of your loins!
Enter the Usurer, Thrasybulus, and Alcon.
Usurer. Come forth, my friends, whom wittingly I wrong'd:
Before this man of God receive your due;
Before our king I mean to make my peace.—
Jonas, behold, in sign of my remorse,
I here restore into these poor men's hands
Their goods which I unjustly have detain'd;
And may the heavens so pardon my misdeeds
As I am penitent for my offence!
Thras. And what through want from others I purloin'd,
Behold, O king, I proffer 'fore thy throne,
To be restor'd to such as owe[131] the same.
Jonas. A virtuous deed, pleasing to God and man.
Would God, all cities drownèd in like shame
Would take example of these Ninevites.
Rasni. Such be the fruits of Nineveh's repent;
And such for ever may our dealings be,
That he that call'd us home in height of sin
May smile to see our hearty penitence.—
Viceroys, proclaim a fast unto the Lord;
Let Israel's God be honour'd in our land;
Let all occasion of corruption die,
For who shall fault therein shall suffer death
Bear witness, God, of my unfeignèd zeal.—
Come, holy man, as thou shalt counsel me,
My court and city shall reformèd be.
Jonas. Wend on in peace, and prosecute this course.
[Exeunt all except Jonas.
You islanders, on whom the milder air
Doth sweetly breathe the balm of kind increase,
Whose lands are fatten'd with the dew of heaven,
And made more fruitful than Actæan plains;
You whom delicious pleasures dandle soft,
Whose eyes are blinded with security,
Unmask yourselves, cast error clean aside.
O London, maiden of the mistress-isle,
Wrapt in the folds and swathing-clouts of shame,
In thee more sins than Nineveh contains!
Contempt of God, despite of reverend age,
Neglect of law, desire to wrong the poor,
Corruption, whoredom, drunkenness, and pride.
Swoll'n are thy brows with impudence and shame,
O proud adulterous glory of the west!
Thy neighbours burn, yet dost thou fear no fire;
Thy preachers cry, yet dost thou stop thine ears;
The 'larum rings, yet sleepest thou secure.
London, awake, for fear the Lord do frown:
I set a looking-glass before thine eyes.
O, turn, O, turn, with weeping to the Lord,
And think the prayers and virtues of thy queen
Defer the plague which otherwise would fall!
Repent, O London! lest for thine offence,
Thy shepherd fail, whom mighty God preserve,
That she may bide the pillar of his church
Against the storms of Romish Anti-Christ!
The hand of mercy overshade her head,
And let all faithful subjects say, Amen!
[Exit.