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Chear up, ny darling, and thy joys renew,
Let others weep that ha(illegible text) more cauſe than you.
SON.
Had ever ſinner greater cauſe than I,
Alas! there does a weighty burden lie
Upon my wounded tender conſcience here:
Undone I am if God ſhould be ſevere.
TEMPTER.
What a ſtrange feud and paſſion thou art in,
There's many thouſands worſe than thou haſt been
For wickedneſs, I'll make it well appear,
Who ne'er ſo much as ſhed a ſingle tear.
You never dipt your hands in infant's blood!
You ne'er laid cities in a wrecking flood!
Theſe are the ſins that do for vengeance call,
But as for thine they're few or none at all.
Perhaps ſome times at cards or dice you play,
And now and then upon the Sabbath day
You take a glaſs or bottle with your friends!
What if you do, theſe are but ſlender ſins!
SON.
How can you theſe deceitful words expreſs?
What is the dreadful ſin of drunkenneſs,
And the profaning of the ſabbath-day
Of ſuch a ſmall account with you, I pray?
TEMPTER.
I charge you in the bleſſed name
Of our great God to go from whence ye came.
