IDENTILIN$$ F109H05|Storm|Dobell ms.|ff. 172-73|pp. 345-47\KJH\mf\7-19-94\P:DF\o\1-20-01\C:JMK\2-6-01;JSC 3-5-01\C:EWS\1-13-15 109.H05.HE1 %XThe storme. /%XTo M%5r%6 Brooke from the Iland voyage /%Xwith the Earle of Essex. 109.H05.001 Thou w%5ch%6 art I, 'tis nothinge to be soe, 109.H05.002 thou w%5ch%6 art still thy selfe, by these shalt knowe 109.H05.003 part of our passage; and a hand or eye 109.H05.004 by Hylliard drawne, is worth a history 109.H05.005 by a worse Painter made; and (without pride) 109.H05.006 when by thy Iudgement they are dignify'de, 109.H05.007 my lines are such; 'tis the preheminence 109.H05.008 of frindship only to impute excellence. 109.H05.009 England, mother of vs, and what we haue 109.H05.010 sad, that her sonnes did seeke a forreine graue, 109.H05.011 [for fates or fortunes drifts none can sooth=say, 109.H05.012 honour and misery haue one face, one way) [172v] 109.H05.013 from out her pregnant entralls sigh't a wind, 109.H05.014 w%5ch%6 at th' ayres middle marble roome, did find 109.H05.015 Such strong resistance, that it selfe it threwe 109.H05.016 downeward againe; and soe when it did viewe 109.H05.017 howe in the Port, our fleete deare time did leese, 109.H05.018 waitinge like prisoners, w%5ch%6 ly but for fees: 109.H05.019 mildly it kissd' our sailes, and fresh and sweete 109.H05.020 as to a stomacke staru'd; whose insides meete 109.H05.021 meate comes, it came: and swell'd our sailes, when we 109.H05.022 soe ioy'd, as Sara her Swellinge ioy'd to see; 109.H05.023 but 'twas but soe kind, as our Countrey-men, 109.H05.024 w%5ch%6 bringe frendes one dayes way, and leaue them then: 109.H05.025 Then like two mighty kinges, w%5ch%6 dwellinge farre 109.H05.026 a sunder, meete against a third to warre; 109.H05.027 y%5e%6 South and west windes ioynd', and as they blewe, 109.H05.028 waues, like a rowling Trench, before them threwe. 109.H05.029 Sooner then these lines read, the boysterous gale, 109.H05.030 like shott, not feard', till felt, our sayles assayle, 109.H05.031 and what at first was calld' a gust, the same 109.H05.032 hath nowe a stormes, anon a Tempests name. 109.H05.033 Ionas I pitty thee, and curse those men 109.H05.034 who when the storme ragd' most, did wake thee then. 109.H05.035 Sleepe is paines easiest salue, and doth fullfill 109.H05.036 all Offices of Death, except to kill: 109.H05.037 But when I wakt', I sawe that I sawe not 109.H05.038 I, and the sunne w%5ch%6 taught me, had forgott 109.H05.039 East, west, day, night, %Jyet%K then I cold but say [mvar:and] 109.H05.040 Yf the world had lasted[var:listed] nowe it had byn day. 109.H05.041 Thousands our noyses were, yet we, mongst all 109.H05.042 cold none by his right name, but Thunder, call: 109.H05.043 Lightninge was all our light, and it ray'nd more 109.H05.044 then yf the Sunne had drunke the Sea before. [f.172v/p.347] 109.H05.045 Some coffind' in theire Cabbins ly, equally 109.H05.046 greiu'd, that they are not dead, >and< yet must dy: 109.H05.047 and as sinne-burdened soules from graues will creepe 109.H05.048 at the last day; some, forth theire Cabbins peepe, 109.H05.049 and, trembling, aske what newes; and doe heare soe 109.H05.050 like iealous husbands, what they would not knowe: 109.H05.051 Some sitting on the hatches, would seeme there 109.H05.052 with hideous gazing to affright pale feare; 109.H05.053 there note they the ships sicknesses, the most 109.H05.054 shakd' with an ague, and the hold and woste 109.H05.055 with a salt Dropsy clogd', and all our tacklings 109.H05.056 Snapping in two, like high-stretcht' Treble-stringes, 109.H05.057 and from our tottered sayles, rags drop downe soe, 109.H05.058 as fro%M one hangd' in chaines a yeare agoe; 109.H05.059 yea, euen our Ordinance, plac'd for our defence, 109.H05.060 striue to breake loose, and scape away fro%M thence. 109.H05.061 Pumping hath tyr'd our men, and whats the gaine? 109.H05.062 Seas, into Seas throwne, we sucke in againe: 109.H05.063 hearinge hath deaft our Saylors, and yf they 109.H05.064 knowe howee to heare, ther's none knowes what to say. 109.H05.065 Compar'd with these stormes, Death is but a qualme, 109.H05.066 Hell somewhat lightsome, and the Barmoodas calme. 109.H05.067 Darkenes, lights elder brother, his byrth-right 109.H05.068 claimes o're the world, and to Heav'n hath chasd' light. 109.H05.069 All thinges are one, and that one none can be 109.H05.070 Since all formes, vniforme deformity 109.H05.071 doth couer, So that we, except God say 109.H05.072 another Fiat, shall haue no more day, 109.H05.073 So violent, yet long, these Furies be, 109.H05.074 that though thine absence sterue m', I wish not thee. 109.H05.0SS scribal grape design 109.H05.0$$ %1Last 2 ll. ind; nonscribal "148" in RM at HE3 matches p.no. in B & C where Storm begins --JSC%2