HORROR. My name is call'd Confusion and Horror of the mind, And to correct impenitents of God I am assign'd, And for because thou dost despise God's mercy and his grace, And wouldst no admonition take by them that did thee warn, Neither when Conscience counselled thee, thou wouldst his words embrace, Who would have had thee unto God obedience true to learn; Nor couldst between Suggestion's craft and Conscience' truth discern: Behold, therefore, thou shalt of me another lesson hear, Which (will thou, nill thou,) with torment of Conscience thou shalt bear. And where thou hast extinguished the Holy Spirit of God, And made him weary with thy sins, which daily thou hast done, He will no longer in thy soul and spirit make abode, But with the graces, which he gave to thee, now is he gone: So that to Godward by Christ's death rejoicing thou hast none. The peace of Conscience faded is; instead whereof I bring The spirit of Satan, blasphemy, confusion and cursing. The glass likewise of vanities, which is thine only joy, I will transform into the glass of deadly desperation, By looking in the which thou shalt conceive a great annoy. Thus have I caught thee in thy pride, and brought thee to damnation; So that thou art a pattern true of God's just indignation: Whereby each man may warned be the like sins to eschew, Lest the same torments they incur, which in thee they shall view. PHILOLOGUS. O painful pain of deep disdain, O griping grief of hell! O horror huge, O soul suppress'd, and slain with desperation! O heap of sins, the sum whereof no man can number well! O death, O furious flames of hell, my just recompensation! O wretched wight, O creature curs'd, O child of condemnation! O angry God and merciless, most fearful to behold! O Christ, thou art no Lamb to me, but Lion fierce and bold! GISBERTUS. Alas, dear father! what doth move and cause you to lament? PHILOLOGUS. My sins, alas! which in this glass appear innumerable, For which I shall no pardon get; for God is fully bent In fury for to punish me with pains intolerable. Neither to call to him for grace or pardon am I able. My sin is unto death; I feel Christ's death doth me no good, Neither for my behoof did Christ shed his most precious blood. PAPHINITIUS. Alas, dear father! alas! I say, what sudden change is this? PHILOLOGUS. I am condemned into hell these torments to sustain. GISBERTUS. O, say not so, my father dear; God's mercy mighty is. PHILOLOGUS. The sentence of the righteous Judge cannot be call'd again, Who hath already judged me to everlasting pain. O that my body buried were, that it at rest might be, Though soul were put in Judas' place, or Cain's extremity. GISBERTUS. O brother! haste you to the town, and tell Theologus, What sudden plague and punishment my father hath befell. PAPHINITIUS. I run in haste, and will request him for to come with us. GISBERTUS. O father! rest yourself in God, and all thing shall be well.