The Chief Promises of God unto Man (God's Promises) · chunk 4 of 17
Bale, John · published 1547 · first performed or written 1538 (Annals) biblical play unassigned nearest T5 Christian faith, sin and salvation · 516 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T5: god, christ, david, sin, holy, israel, lord, mercy, sins, faith.
I have been moved, to strike man diversly, Sens I left Adam, in this same earthly mansion. For whye he hath done, to me displeasures many, And will not amend, his life in any condition. No respect hath he, to my word nor monition. But doth what him lust, without discrete advisement, And will in no wise, take mine advertisement. Cain hath slain Abel, his brother an innocent, Whose blood from the earth, doth call to me for vengeance My children with men's, so carnally consent, That their vain working, is unto me much grievance. Mankind is but flesh, in his whole dalliance. All vice increaseth, in him continually, Nothing he regardeth, to walk unto my glory. My heart abhorreth, his wilful misery, His cankered malice, his cursed covetousness, His 〈◊〉 lecherous, his vengeable tyranny, merciful mourther, and other ungodliness. ●yll destroy him, for his outragyousnesse. and not him only, but all that on earth do steer, for it repenteth me, that ever I made them here. Most gentle maker, with his frailness somewhat bear Man is thy creature, thyself can not say nay. Though thou punish him, to put him somewhat in fear, His fault to knowledge, yet seek not his decay. Thu mayest reclaim him, though he goeth now astray, And bring him again, of thy abundant grace, To the fold of faith, he acknowledging his trespass. Thu knowest I have given, to him convenient space. With lawful warnings, yet he amendeth in no place. The natural law, which I wrote in his heart, He hath outraced, all goodness putting a part, Of health the covenant, which I to Adam made, He regardeth not, but walketh a damnable trade, All this is true lord, I can not thy words reprove, let his weakness yet, thy merciful goodness move. No weakness is it, but wilful working all, That reigneth in man, through mind diabolical. He shall have therefore, like as he hath deserved. Lose him not yet lord, though he hath deeply swerved, I know thy mercy, is far above his rudeness, Being infinite, as all other things are in the. His folly therefore, now pardon of thy goodness, And measure it not, beyond thy godly pity. Esteem not his fault, farther than help may be, But grant him thy grace, as he offendeth so deeply, The to remember, and abhorrre his misery. Of all goodness lord, remember thy great mercy, To Adam and Eve, breaking thy first commandment. Them thou relevedest, with thy sweet promise heavenly, sinful though they were, and their lives negligent. I know that mercy, with the is permanent, And will be ever, so long as the world endure, Than close not thy hand, from man which is thy creature. Being thy subject, he is underneath thy cure, Correct him thou mayest, and so bring him to grace. All lieth in thy hands, to leave or to allure, Bitter death to give, or grant most suffren solace. Utterly from man, avert not then thy face, But let him saver, thy sweet benevolence, somewhat though he feel, thy hand for his offence.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I haue bene moued, to stryke man dyuerselye, Sens I lefte Adam, in thys same earthly mansyon. For whyc he hath done, to me dyspleasures manye, And wyll not amende, hys lyfe in anye condycyon. No respect hath he, to my worde nor monycyon. But doth what hym lust, without dyscrete aduysement, And wyll in no wyse, take myne aduertysement. Cain hath slayne Abel, hys brother an innocent, Whose bloude from the earthe, doth call to me for vengeaūce My children with mennis, so carnallye consent, That their vayne workynge, is vnto me moche greuaunce. Mankynde is but fleshe, in hys whole dallyaunce. All vyce encreaseth, in hym contynuallye, Nothynge he regardeth, to walke vnto my glorye. My hart abhorreth, hys wylfull myserye, Hys cankred malyce, hys cursed couetousenesse, Hys lecherouse, hys vengeable tyrannye, rcyfull mourther, and other vngodlynesse. yll destroye hym, for hys outragyousnesse. nd not hym onlye, but all that on earthe do stere, or it repenteth me, that euer I made them here. Most gentyll maker, with hys fraylenesse sumwhat beare Man is thy creature, thy selfe can not saye naye. Though thu ponnysh hym, to put hym sumwhat in feare, Hys faulte to knowledge, yet seke not hys decaye. Thu mayest reclayme hym, though he goeth now astraye, And brynge hym agayne, of thy abundaunt grace, To the folde of faythe, he acknowlegynge hys trespace. Thu knowest I haue geuen, to hym conuenyent space. With laufull warnynges, yet he amendeth in no place. The naturall lawe, whych I wrote in hys harte, He hath outraced, all goodnesse puttynge a parte, Of helthe the couenaunt, whych I to Adam made, He regardeth not, but walketh a damnable trade, All thys is true lorde, I can not thy wordes reproue, Lete hys weakenesse yet, thy mercyfull goodnesse moue. No weakenesse is it, but wylfull workynge all, That reigneth in man, through mynde dyabolycall. He shall haue therfor, lyke as he hath deserued. Lose hym not yet lorde, though he hath depelye swerued, I knowe thy mercye, is farre aboue hys rudenesse, Beynge infynyte, as all other thynges are in the. Hys folye therfor, now pardone of thy goodnesse, And measure it not, beyonde thy godlye pytie. Esteme not hys faulte, farder than helpe maye be, But graunt hym thy grace, as he offendeth so depelye, The to remembre, and abhorrre hys myserye. Of all goodnesse lorde, remembre thy great mercye, To Adam and Eue, breakynge thy first commaundement. Them thu releuedest, with thy swete promyse heauenlye, Synnefull though they were, and their lyues neglygent. I knowe that mercye, with the is permanent, And wyll be euer, so longe as the worlde endure, Than close not thy hande, from man whych is thy creature. Beynge thy subiect, he is vndreneth thy cure, Correct hym thu mayest, and so brynge hym to grace. All lyeth in thy handes, to leaue or to allure, Bytter deathe to geue, or graunte most suffren solace. Vtterlye from man, auerte not then thy face, But lete hym sauer, thy swete benyuolence, Sumwhat though he fele, thy hande for hys offence.