Job Expounded, Commentary on Job · Chapter 3
A PREFACE VPONUPON THE THIRD CHAPTER.
HItherto we hauehave heard how Iob did so deceiue all the fierie dartes of Satan, that as yet it seemed he could not be wounded: not that he was without sense or feeling, but he receiued them, as the Apostle warneth vsus, on the shield of faith and of a good conscience, wherevnto was added an especiall feare of God. But nowe let vsus heare howe he striueth, not any more with those outward enemies, of whome he was assailed, but with him selfe, and that in such manner, that he was very neere fainting vnderunder the burthen of his temptation. Neither ought we to marveile at that, since euen in the most holy men there remaineth a strife betwixt the flesh and the Spirite, which is left of God, euen in the Elect (as the Apostle teacheth by his owne example) to the end, not that we should perish, but partly that we may not triumph before the victorie, then which nothing is more wished for of Satan: partly that hauing a continuall feeling of our owne weakenesse, we may learne to relye not vponupon our owne selues, but vponupon God: lastly that by how much the more hard & dangerous the fight hath bene, the victory of godly men may be so much the more glorious. Like as therefore when men fight together with earthly weapons, we doe iudge the one side to be conquerours, not by those things which fall out in the heate of the battaile, the chaunce thereof as yet hanging in doubtfull balance, but by the successe and issue it selfe: neither is he accounted faint hearted or a coward, which hath bene most grieuously wounded, yea and sometimes also hath retired, like one overcome, so that afterward he recouer his strength and his courage againe: so in this spirituall conflict, when as we heare howe Jobs flesh gaue a most furious onset vponupon the spirite, we are not therefore to thinke that the spirite, though sometimes it had receiued most perillous woundes, did yet giuegive ouer the victorie to the flesh: neither are we to condemne Job of suffring impatiency to get the vpper hand, much lesse of blasphemy. For there is great oddes betweene these: neither is he to be deemed properlie vnpatient whosoeuer he be, that being vexed with very great torments of bodie and minde, such as Job did sustaine in a wonderfull great measure, doth not forthwith resolutely resist them, keeping continuallie one and the same course of constancie, but he also is to be termed stout and valiant, in whome the spirit at length getteth the mastery. Therefore most wiselie and fitlie doeth Iames warne vsus in his 5. Chap. & 11. verse, that in thinking vponupon this combate of Iob, we do not regard that which was done while the combat lasted, but the end of the fight it selfe: wherein God inwardlie strengthened his faithfull seruant, and though he was hardlie layed at, yet did he neuer suffer him to be tempted altogether aboue his strengeh, which he at conuenient times gaue vntounto him. And which of the Saints (I pray you) hath not had the experience of this, if we will seuerallie consider what thinges hauehave bene said and done by them? Be it therfore that in Job the flesh did sinne: for he was a man: notwithstanding (God him selfe being iudge) he was neuer ouercome of the flesh, but, though not without wounds which it receiued in the fight, the spirite in him gate the vpper hand. So Christ, Ioh. 21.18. speaking of Peter him selfe, whose faith did neuer vtterly faile, When (saith he) thou shalt be olde, thou shalt stretch out thine hands, and another shall gird thee, and lead thee whither thou wouldest not: signifying by what death he shoulde glorifie God. For surely in these wordes is declared howe Peter did so vndergoe for Christ the paine of martirdome most willingly and constantlie, that neuerthelesse in abiding those paines wherein his spirite reioyced, there was not wanting the flesh for it to striue withall, which was most vnwilling to suffer death. And thus much let it suffice to hauehave spoken once for all: not for this place alone, but for very many others, which we shal meete with hereafter. Now let vsus hearken what the flesh here speaketh. Iob is grieued, he fretteth, he gnasheth his teeth, he howleth: howe farre would he hauehave gone, had not the spirit held him backe? surely he would hauehave runne headlong into blasphemie & desperation, as Satan hoped it would hauehave come to passe. And here againe we are prudently to make a difference in this flesh it selfe▪ for in that Iob sinneth not, that he being throughly galled with the feeling of so great torments in mind and body, cryeth out (which is naturall for a man to do) but herein he sinneth, in that giuing the raines wholly to his griefe, and as it were setting aside for a time all thinking of God, in which notwithstanding he ought to hauehave abode, he is caried away without the boundes euen of humane reason. For who would count him in his wits, & not rather frantike, that should bitterly raile vponupon his birthday, whether it be that which is past, wherein he was borne, or that which commeth once a yere? & yet we see that the same or worse happened to Ieremy, cap. 21. v. 14. and many of Dauids complaintes in the Psalmes are not farre behinde. See then how farre the violent & outragious affections of our mind will soone carie vsus, which the philosophers would hauehave vsus to rule by reason, this remedy truely of theirs being not altogether vnprofitable, but yet not of fufficient force, euen in the least temptations: which the spirit of God alone lightning our vnderstanding, doeth minister to vsus in our distresse. There is no man therefore without sinne: but they sinne one way in whom wickednesse doth absolutely raigne, or who wholly and wilfully giuegive ouer them selues to commit sinne: and they another, who do so sinne, that the spirit yet cryeth in them, howe that they do according to the flesh, that whith they would not do according to the spirit: whereof Iob affordeth vsus a notable exāple in this place & hereafter. For who can choose but wonder, that he in so great vnquietnes of his mind, did not so much as cast out one word, either against his wife, or against his friēds, that delt so vnwisely with him, or against any other as mē do, being out of patiēce or rather mad? And that (as appeareth by the 20. vers.) so sone as God came into his mind, the flesh was thereby, though not altogether, yet so farre daūted that it kept it selfe with in the compasse of weeping & wailing. For whereas the Hebrue interpreters thinke very hardly of Iob, some of them counting him a calculator of his natiuitie, as though he attributed these his calamities not to Gods prouidence, but to some aspect of malignant starres, & therefore cursed his birthday, other some in plaine termes calling him wicked & blasphemous, I shall not need to spend many words in refuting them, since herafter they are disproued by the sentēce of God himself, as it were iudging & determining the whole matter, who findeth fault with Iobs speeches for being vnaduised, yea & sometimes ranging beyond the precinct of godlines, yet so that acquiting him from all grosse sinne and wickednes, he crowneth him with the garland of a famous victorie.
There remaine many thinges for vsus to examine in this Chapter, and first of all this question may not vnfitly be mooued in this place, whether we ought so to repose our selues whollie in Gods wil, in bearing patiently what thinges soeuer, that we can not without sinne wish, that those things which are done alreadie, were either vndone, or done otherwise. J answer, that such wishes simply are so farre from being sinnes, that contrariwise we do sometimes heinously sinne, if we wish not with our harts that very many things done by vsus or by others, had neuer bene done, though now they can not be vndone againe. For hereunto belongeth the true repentance of thē, who condemne their life that is passed: & therfore God him selfe bewailing, after the māner of men, the stubbornes of vnthankfull Israel, after they had bene punished, crieth out. Psal. 81.14. O that my people had harkened vntounto me, that Israel had walked in my waies. Nowe by these words, which are attributed to God him selfe, we may easilie cōceiue in what respect, we hauing before our eyes the wisdome of God him selfe in gouerning this vniuersall worlde, may without offence wish that some thing had fallen out otherwise, and that is this, in regarde that those things displease vsus, whereby he is prouoked to execute his iust & seuere iudgement; so notwithstanding, that we willingly hold our selues content with that, which wee see pleaseth him, euen then, when not onelyonly wee doe not see the reason of his doeings, and of the euents which folow thereupon, but also when the Lord seemeth to our brainsick wisdom to do somthing which they that as it were cite him to appeare before the iudgemēt seat of their own reason, would iudge to be cleane contrarie to his nature. They, therfore principally offend in such like wishes, who vntounto the consideration of Gods gouernment in ordering the world both generally, & especially in this or that successe of matters, bring preiudicate opinions, fetched frō the storehouse of humane arrogancie: vponupon occasiō wherof they rashly prye into gods iudgements, & not finding that which satisfieth them from such prophane boldnes they run headlong into open impiety. Examples hereof are rise in all sorts of writings of worldly wise men, of whome Paul truly writeth, that they became vaine in their imaginations? And from no other head for the most part hauehave risen, & daily do rise wil-worships & heresies, wherby the Church ceaseth not to be exercised, then from this, that men, not onelyonly beeing openly curious & ambitious, but also deceiuing them selues with a counterfeit shew of a deuout conscience, do measure al things by their owne braine, & shew their outragious boldnes no lesse in establishing their owne dreames, thē in impugning whatsoeuer they mislike, not sparing god himselfe. But they are not to be reckoned amōg these, who not vponupon a prophane curiosity, neither bringing with thē selues preiudicate opinions, if they light vponupon any thing in the daily workes of God which belongeth to their vocation for them to knowe, the causes whereof they knowe not, so that this their ignorance holdeth their mindes in suspence, being mooued with a deuout affection, in these thoughtes of theirs, first to aske counsell at the word of God, whereby they may hauehave a generall direction in discerning such matters: then, that by the true knowledge of those generall heades out of Gods worde, they may rightly in the feare of God determine such particular cases as they meete withall, and vnderstand what they are to doe herein, if it be about them selues, they search their owne consciences: but if the question be about other men, they doe carefullie and without respect of persons search out the causes from whence that proceeded, about which the doubt is mooued. But if they can not yet find that which will satisfie them, yet this ground they alwayes holde, that the Almightie God is vnblameable & irreprooueable, whose will, whether it be manifested to vsus or hid from vsus, we are to honour without exception. Besides in present miseries, whether they be our owne or other mens, either publike or priuate, we hauehave libertie also to bewaile our estate, to lament, and, to make short, to powre out our griefes into his bosome, and to beseech God that he would rid vsus from them: but these exceptions being obserued, that our complaints arise, neither from the dastardlinesse of our courage, nor from any prophane affection, nor as though we would striue with God: but that we alwayes bring with vsus a minde, readie to beare patiently whatsoeuer shalbe laid vponupon vsus. And because it would require a large treatise to set foorth this doctrine by many examples, let it suffice vsus for this time to lay this matter open to our view in this one example of Iob. IOB the most righteous man liuing, becommeth on the sudden of all other the most miserable: and yet not onelyonly humane reason but also the very nature of the most righteous God seemeth necessarily to require, that good things should be giuen to good men, euill things to euil men. This foundation then being laid, whosoeuer they be that looke vponupon Iob in this most miserable estate, they conclude that it must needes be (or else God should not deale iustly) that there was at that time no man liuing more wicked then Iob, who notwithstanding went alwayes for a most holy and iust man. Hereupon it commeth to passe, that he is reprooued of all that are about him, whereof some, of whome Iob eueryevery where complaineth, doe reuile him, as being a most damnable man: others being more indifferent, as his wife and those thre friendes of his, are out of hope of his life, but not of his saluation: and when they see him making no mention of his sinnes, do nothing else then make protestation of his vpright conscience, they labour earnestly in this, that bringing him from this opinion of his owne innocencie, they may draw him to condemne his former life, and with the detestation of his notable hypocrisie to aske God merciemercy, which was the onelyonly way that was left him to procure his deliuerance. But Iob making answere, though he acknowledge himselfe to be a man, and so a sinner, yet hauing the testimonie of a good conscience that there was no cause on his part, why God should deale so hardly with him aboue other men, ceaseth not in the beginning howsoeuer the foolish reason of man gainsayeth it, mildely & quietly to praise God, as being iust. Yet at the length his tormēts being wonderfully increased, and being grieued to the heart at the seuen dayes silence of his friendes, as though he were from thence foorth to looke for no helpe at Gods hands; moreouer euen then tossing in his minde how it might be that God should so punish him aboue other men: and yet for all that no not then conceiuing any sinister opinion of God, he breaketh out into these terrible cursings.
But before we heare Iob powring out his grievous complaints & making his most pitifull lamentation, the place it selfe seemeth to require, that first we speake somewhat of that question, namely, howe farre and in what respectes a man may lawfullie wish rather to die then to liue. For hereby we shall perceiue how farre Iob was faultie in this point, and wherein he transgressed. The vse and fruition of this life is doubtlesse the great gift and blessing of God, which to neglect or make no account of, it were madnesse. Contrariwise death, as it commeth from sinne, so is it also an enemie to nature, and seemeth not without good cause to be feared, forasmuch as diuerse godly men, and among others Dauid and Ezechias hauehave earnestly prayed against it, and Christ him selfe being free from the least blemish of sinne, was thereof marueilously afraid. Notwithstanding if this should simply and without exception take place, it would follow that nothing were so long as we liue, more to be desired of vsus then this life, nothing more to be feared then death. But this can in no wise be. The whole true Church which is as it were a meere straunger in this worlde, and which thirsteth after that better life, yea and so liueth heere vponupon earth, as if alreadie its conversation were in heauen, plainely sheweth the contrarie. And againe if it were so, it woulde take away the atchieving of many excellent thinges, which can not be enterprised without a resolute minde, not caring for death. That therefore which we hauehave sayde is true, if it be referred to the originall of life and death, But besides their originall condition, two thinges hauehave since as an overplus bene added, which are here to be obserued. For through sinne it is come to passe, that this life is of all thinges become most wretched and miserable, which the first death shortly after succeeding, graunteth as it were a certaine truce vntounto the bodie for a time, namelie, a freedome from griefe, whereof notwithstanding the bodie it selfe hath no feeling; but the soule it by and by sendeth to horrible paines and tormentes vntill such time as the seconde death adiudge both the one and the other to eternall condemnation. This is the state of all men in generall, except onelyonly those, vponupon whome God hath decreed to shewe merciemercy through his infinite goodnesse in Christ our Sauiour. And yet these also are subiect to the calamities of this present life, and taste them as well as others: but it is for their good and profite, whether by this meanes it please God to chastize them with his fatherly rodde, or else to exercise and trayne them vp, partly that they bee weaned from the thinges of this worlde, and partely that his vertue and power may be seene in their infirmitie, who in the ende crowneth his victorious champions with eternall happinesse. Moreouer they abide vnderunder the same necessitie of the first death, which shall befall them, when and in what manner it shall seeme good to Gods heauenly wisedome. Neither yet proceedeth this from GOD, as beeing any way angrie or displeased, but rather beeing verie tenderlie and louingly affected towardes them: for their soule is foorthwith taken into the participation of euerlasting blessednesse. The bodie, although it lye in the earth dead and rotten, yet it is not deliuered to death to bee destroyed of it, but rather (which is vtterly against the nature of death) to be safely kept till the latter day, and then death it selfe shall be wholly swallowed vp of most blessed immortalitie. These thinges standing thus, which are confirmed by most certen and expresse groundes out of Gods worde, and also by the testimonie of this our IOB, it must needes followe that the state of the wicked is both in life and in death most miserable, and yet of both, death is rather to be wished then life. For by howe much the longer time they liue, and in greater aboundance enioye the goods and pleasures of this worlde, by so much the more grievous shall their punishment be, either in this life or in the life to come, or in both: and surely this benefite at the least they reape by the first death, that for a time their bodyes are free from all sence and feeling of griefe. Moreouer Christ him selfe witnesseth that it had bene better for them, neuer to hauehave bene borne: howe so euer some reason more subtillie then soundly, that it is better to be miserable, then not to bee at all. Nowe whereas we see that it falleth out farre otherwise, that the wicked account this life to be most happie and pretious, we ought to ascribe it to their owne madnesse, in that beeing bewitched with the pleasures of this life, they thinke not at all what shall become of them hereafter, and therefore we may beholde howe some of them both liue and dye like beastes: others, when any grievous calamitie befalleth them, breake foorth into pitifull lamentations and bootelesse outcryes, and are most vnwilling to forgoe this life: others, either beeing ouercomme with greatnesse of griefe, or strooken with a terrour of conscience through the sence and loathsomnesse of their sinnes, fall into desperation, and runne headlong into the same death, which otherwise they are so much afraide of. For they falsely imagine, that by ending this life, they shall ende all their troubles and miseries. Contrariwise both this life and death also it selfe is sweete & welcome to them, whose mindes are enlightened with the true knowledge of God, and whome God so gouerneth with his holy Spirite in this life, that they are neither puffed vp with prosperitie, nor discouraged with aduersitie. And looke at what time, and by whatsoeuer meanes it pleaseth God to take them out of this worlde, he so whollie filleth their soules with a most certaine hope of blessed immortalitie, whereof they shall immediately be made partakers, that they are no lesse ioyfull at the houre of death, then the day labouring man, when he seeth the sunne go downe, knowing the time approcheth, in which he shall receiue his wages, and goe rest him at home in his owne house: or he who hauing with great trauell and daunger a long time wandered abroade, (as the Poet Homer faigned of his Vlysses not vnwisely, albeit to another purpose) doeth at the length beholde a farre off the smoke of his owne chimney, beeing from thence foorth to take his wished ease, and to rest from all his trauaile. Therefore as J hauehave saide▪ to the godlie neither life nor death is amisse: and yet death is more beneficiall to them then life, and rather to be desired, not because they are wearie of the troubles and discommodities of this life, (albeit euen in this respect it be in it selfe no sinne at all, moderately to beseech God, to take vsus out of this life if it be his good pleasure) nor yet because they directlie seeke their owne good and profit (for this were not to louelove God for him selfe, but rather for our owne sakes; which thing we will not allow of in our friendes) but partlie, that they may once for all, whollie be set free from so miserable bondage of sinne, as the Apostle teacheth vsus by his owne example, Rom. 7.24. partlie also that they may behold him as it were face to face, yea and more rightlie serue and honour him, whom all their life time they hauehave most earnestlie sought, treading in the steps of the same Apostle, Phil 1.23. These things being thus, it remaineth now, to propound & declare certaine contrary examples, and then consequentlie shew wherein and how farre this desire of death in Iob passed measure, and wherin it was to be misliked. Therefore as touching the example of David, Psal. 6.6 and 30.10. and 115.17. as also of Ezechias, Esa. 38.19. if any man will dilligentlie consider in what state they were when as they desired God not to take their liues from them, he shall finde that they praied to be deliuered, not so much from bodilie death, as from the wrath and anger of God, whome at that time they knew and also felt to to be angrie and displeased with them for their sinnes. For what J pray you can be more feareful then death, being ioyned with the anger of God? moreouer it is manifest out of the places before alleadged, that the zeale of setting forth Gods glory in his Church caused them to pray in that manner, yea they were inflamed with such an earnest desire of profiting the Church of God, in so needefull a time, according to the dueties of their calling, that in this respect, they were willing for a time to prolong the attaining and the fruition of their owne saluation. For otherwise what could they hauehave rather wished then forthwith and out of hand to be receiued into that heauenlie citie, which their whole desire was to come vntounto? Hebr. 11.16. and therefore Elias thinking that the whole Church of Jsrael was come to nought, and that he alone was left, is so farre from being vnwilling to die, that he desireth nothing more, thinking verilie, that now there was not any place & abiding for him here vpō earth. Neither yet did he thus for that he hated, and was simplie wearie of this life, but because he could not abide to liue any longer amongst the prophane contemners of God, 1. King. 19.18. Concerning Ieremie and Ionas I shall speake afterward. Now as touching that most horrible agonie of Christ, there is a speciall and peculiar reason, which is againe and againe to be considered. Doubtlesse Christ by his most earnest prayer, which he made to his father, to remooue from him that cuppe, meaning the death which he was to suffer, shewed not him selfe vnwilling to die, (for who could hauehave compelled him beeing vnwilling? and also how could it be true, that we are saued by his obedience vntounto the death, euen to the death of the crosse?) but while the Godhead in him rested and was still, as Iraeneus not vnfitlie speaketh, and while al his humane senses, howsoeuer free from sinne and corruption, were whollie occupied in the horrible iudgement of God his father, which he was euen presently to sustaine, he brake forth into that petition, Matth. 26.39. O my father, if it be possible let this cuppe passe from me. For he was not simplie afraid of death, beeing the most perfite and absolute patterne of all true fortitude, but in his flesh he greatlie feared to vndergoe that curse, from which he could neuer hauehave safely escaped, and much lesse hauehave deliuered vsus, if he had beene a meere man, yea though he had come in the nature of an Angell. Therefore he feared for a time that heauie and vntollerable burden, to the end we might not any longer feare death, which he hath so throughlie vanquished, that neither we seeke for life, nor yet can possiblie finde it any where else, then in that his most pretious death. Now J suppose it is time to come to Iob him selfe, whome we can not denie, in this his desire of death, diuers wayes to hauehave offended; yet in this pointe his fall was not extraordinarie, but such as is incident to humane frailtie. For those speeches which he vseth, doe not proceede from a resolute and setled iudgement, but are in a manner constrained, through the greatnes of his griefe, obscuring for a time the light of his faith and vnderstanding. For whereas he perswadeth him selfe, that he can not otherwise be deliuered out of those troubles, but by death; it argueth that he did not sufficientlie waigh the infinitenes of Gods power: whereas he wisheth that eyther he had neuer beene borne, or else had presentlie dyed as soone as he came out of his mothers wombe, he playeth the part of a very vnconsiderate man, forgetting so many benefits which he had receiued, yea forgetting him …elfe, and that excellent wise speech which he vsed in the first Chapter, Shall we receiue good at the handes of God, and shall we not receiue euill? Whereas he desireth to be deliuered from all these miseries, and yet doeth not in this behalfe powre out his prayers vntounto God, it sheweth that his minde was altogither troubled and disquieted within him: whereas in all these wishes which he maketh, he hath respect onelyonly of his owne ease and quietnesse, which he thinketh to finde in death, vnlesse, as we shall heare afterward Iobs owne words weare to the contrarie, he might seeme to be one of the number of them, who looke onelyonly vntounto this life, or not much to differ from the sect of Epicures, who imagine that nothing remaineth after death, but that the soule and bodie perish togither. Notwithstanding as I said before, all these things were onelyonly tokens of mans weakenes and infirmitie, as Iob him selfe in the end acknowledgeth. Nowe if Iob so worthie and so excellent a man fell in this sort, through the frailtie of his nature; how carefullie and earnestlie ought we, who are farre from that perfection which was in Iob, to beseech God night and day not to leade vsus into temptation, not to giuegive us ouer to our owne lusts, nor at any time vtterlie to leaue and forsake vsus? Last of all, as touching the Prophet Ieremie, albeit he vseth few wordes; yet, he may seeme to speake more vehementlie and in greater vexation of spirite then Iob here doeth, if their speeches be compared togither. But herein there is a very great difference, in that Iob dealeth onelyonly for him selfe & his own cause, wheras Ieremie could not abide that the glorie of God should in his ministerie be contemned, and in this respect he complaineth out of measure, and doeth as it were expostulate and reason the matter with God. The same also happened to Ionas, who cared not so much for his own estimation & credit, as he feared least the authoritie of Gods truth and that his Prophetical function should be called in question. As therefore both of them are greatlie to be commended for their zeale in promoting Gods glorie, so herein they are iustlie to be reprooued, that, whereas, it ought to hauehave beene sufficient for them faithfullie discharging their dueties to leaue the successe to God, they proceed so farre beyond their bounds, as if they could better tell what concerned Gods glorie, then God him selfe. Thus Peter also offended, whome Christ rebuketh in such manner, as that he seemeth not towards any to hauehave vsed a more sharp and bitter reproofe, bidding him goe from him, and terming him by the name of Satan: So hard a thing is it not onelyonly to auoid that which of its owne nature is euil, but also to beware that we doe not grieuouslie offend through a preposterous & inordinate desire of doeing well: which thing if it had beene well and iustly obserued by many in these times, otherwise very godly and learned men, neither the sinceritie of religion had beene thus miserablie corrupted, nor the face of the Church whollie deformed.
❧ CHAPTER III.
VERSE 1. After these things Iob opened his mouth, and cursed his day
VERSE 2. And Job cried out, and said;
AFterward Job breaking off this silēce, and shewing forth by his loud cryes, how greatlie he was tormented, began in these words to lament, & complaine, of that miserable estate and condition vnderunder which he was borne, and looke, what soeuer words the bitternesse of his griefe brought into his minde, the same he powred forth against his birth day.
VERSE 3. O that, the day had perished wherein I was born, and the night which said, a man child is brought forth.
I would to God that day had neuer beene, wherein I first drue breath, nor the night in which it was said, a man childe is borne into the world.
VERSE 4. Let that day be darkened, let not God inquire after it from aboue, neither let the light shine vponupon it.
O that this so vnluckie day, when soeuer in the yeare it returneth, may be wholly couered with darkenesse, O that God from heauen would not reckon it in the number of other dayes, O, I say, that the sonne beames might neuer fall vponupon it, nor any manner of brightnes be seene therein.
VERSE 5. But let darkenes and the shadow of death staine it, let the cloud remaine vponupon it: let them make it terrible; euen as they (are terrified) who are bitter in the day, (that is, to whome the beholding of the light is bitter.)
Let darkenes possesse it and a shadow as black as death it selfe, that all men may know it to be an vnhappie day: let the cloudes couer it & make it as much hated & abhorred, as the light is irksome to thē, to whō their life is bitter & vnplesant.
VERSE 6. Let darkenes possesse that night, let it not reioyce among the daies, let it not come into the count of the moones: (that is, of the moneths.)
Let this night be without any clearenesse, be it neuer so small; let it not enioy the benefit which other nights doe, namely, to be ioyned with the day that followeth, and let it not stand for any of them, in which the moone monethly finisheth her course.
VERSE 7. Lo, desolate be that night, and let no reioycing be found in it.
Now, now, euen now, I say, let that night be nothing else, but dolefull solitarinesse, let not be heard in it any melodie, such as is vsed at marriages and banquets, let it be without the least token of comfort.
VERSE 8. Let them that curse the day, curse it: they which are readie to renew their mourning.
Let them detest this night aboue all other, whosoeuer hate the light, and who neuer make an end of their lamentation.
VERSE 9. Let the starres of the twilight of it be dimmed: let it looke for light, and (let there be) none, neither let it see the eyelids of the morning.
Let the very beginning of its twilight be ouershadowed with dimmenes: let the darkenes continue vponupon it, let it look in vaine for the other extreme, namely, for the dawning of the day, and for the day starre the messenger of light, which shall neuer succeede it.
VERSE 10. Because it shut not vp the dores, and hid (not) sorrow from mine eyes.
Because it shut not vp the dores of my mothers wombe and suffered me to be borne into this world, to be made partaker of so many and so grieuous miseries.
VERSE 11. Why dyed J not in the wombe? why came J not forth of the wombe, and dyed?
VERSE 12. Why did the knees preuent me, and why did I sucke the brests?
Alasse, why rather dyed I not in my mothers bellie before I had seene light? Why dyed I not in the same instant, when I was borne? 12. Why did the midwife meete me comming foorth into the worlde, and take me vponupon her knees? why were the breastes giuen me to sucke, seeing I was to dye in such extreeme miserie.
13 For so should I nowe hauehave slept, and bene quiet, J shoulde hauehave slept, J say, and euen then should J hauehave enioyed rest.
14 With the Kings and rulers of the earth, which builde themselues desolate places. 15 And with the Princes who hauehave gold, and who fill their houses with siluer.
For then, whereas nowe I suffer intollerable griefes, my bodie should hauehave rested in the graue: and although I should hauehave liued but a very short season, yet should I in death hauehave slept sweetly, and then should I hauehave enioyed quietnesse: yea I should not hauehave bene any whit inferiour to the Monarches and mightie men of the earth, who hauehave with great labour erected strong towres, and built costly and sumptuous palaces, in places before desolate and little frequented, which might remaine for monuments of their authoritie and power: yea I should hauehave bene equal with the Princes, who had great abundance of golde and siluer, and who wanted no manner of riches.
16 Or as an abortiue being hidden, had neuer bene: like vntounto those little ones which neuer see light.
Or lying close in my mothers wombe, and not comming foorth, had neuer bene or appeared: Like to those vntimely birthes, which neuer see light, much lesse had I knowen this wretched and miserable life.
17 There the wicked cease from being terrible, and there they rest being wearie of doing violence.
O howe much is this quietnesse which death bringeth, more to be wished then life! For they that are in the graue feare nothing, but rest quietly without any disturbance of the wicked: and why? Euen they them selues, who were greatest disturbers of others in their life time, and tooke pleasure in nothing so much as in oppression and tirannie, here are quiet enough, their strength faileth them, and they holde their peace.
18 Those that are tyed togither in bonds are at rest, and heare not the voyce of the oppressour.
There the poore prisoners, who were fettered together in linkes of yron, and lay fast chayned in the prison, rest quietly without feare of their enemies, and care not a rushe for the tyrants threats, or the wronges of the oppressour.
19 There are small and great, and the seruant is free from his master.
There death maketh the great equall with the small, and the small equall with the great: there is no difference betweene the seruant and the master.
20 Wherefore is the light given to him that is in miserie? and life vntounto them that hauehave heauie heartes?
21 Who long for death, and (it commeth) not, and seeke for it in hidden places?
22 Which ioy for gladnesse, (and) reioyce, when they finde the graue?
23 To the man (I say) whose way is hidde, and God hath wouen about him, (that is, whom God hath hedged in on eueryevery side.)
20 But what mean I thus to take on, as if life were not the good blessing of God, to those that can vse it? Onlie this I say, that it is small profite and lesse pleasure for any man, to hauehave life graunted vntounto him, or the dayes thereof prolonged, when as he cannot liue without continuall tormentes, and daily vexation and anguish of spirit. 21. To whome nothing is more bitter, then not to finde an ende of his life, although he desire it as greedily, as some doe search for hidden treasures within the bowels of the earth: 22. And on the contrarie side, who is neuer so glad, as when he seeth the houre of his death: 23. Finally, whome God hath beset on eueryevery side, so that he is destitute of all hope, helpe and comfort, and can not finde any way to escape.
24 For my sighing commeth before I eate, and my roaringes are powred out like the water.
And truely, such is my wretched and wofull estate, that I cannot taste my meate, but sighes and grones preuent mee: nor take my repaste, but that sorrowes come in my way and hinder me: and of my gronings, which flowe like a riuer out of the verie bottome of my heart, there is no ende.
25 For the thing J feared, is come vponupon me, and the thing I was afrayde of, is come vntounto me.
26 J was not carelesse, neither had I rest, yet trouble is come.
25 And how can I doe otherwise? For that which in my prosperitie I feared most, and was most carefull to auoyde, namely, least through mine owne folly & negligence, I might fal into any miserie, loe, that is happened vntounto me. 26 And although in my happie & flourishing estate, I neyther liued carelesly, nor behaued my self as those, who hauing al things at will, are afrayde of nothing: yet this aduersitie, wherewith on eueryevery side I am tormented, is come vponupon me.