Chapter 16 28 That it might be known, that we must prevent the sun to give thee thanks, and at the dayspring pray unto thee.29 For the hope of the unthankful shall melt away as the winter's hoar frost, and shall run away as unprofitable water.
Chapter 17 1 For great are thy judgments, and cannot be expressed: therefore unnurtured souls have erred.2 For when unrighteous men thought to oppress the holy nation; they being shut up in their houses, the prisoners of darkness, and fettered with the bonds of a long night, lay [there] exiled from the eternal providence.3 For while they supposed to lie hid in their secret sins, they were scattered under a dark veil of forgetfulness, being horribly astonished, and troubled with [strange] apparitions.4 For neither might the corner that held them keep them from fear: but noises [as of waters] falling down sounded about them, and sad visions appeared unto them with heavy countenances.5 No power of the fire might give them light: neither could the bright flames of the stars endure to lighten that horrible night.6 Only there appeared unto them a fire kindled of itself, very dreadful: for being much terrified, they thought the things which they saw to be worse than the sight they saw not.7 As for the illusions of art magick, they were put down, and their vaunting in wisdom was reproved with disgrace.8 For they, that promised to drive away terrors and troubles from a sick soul, were sick themselves of fear, worthy to be laughed at.9 For though no terrible thing did fear them; yet being scared with beasts that passed by, and hissing of serpents,10 They died for fear, denying that they saw the air, which could of no side be avoided.11 For wickedness, condemned by her own witness, is very timorous, and being pressed with conscience, always forecasteth grievous things.12 For fear is nothing else but a betraying of the succours which reason offereth.13 And the expectation from within, being less, counteth the ignorance more than the cause which bringeth the torment.14 But they sleeping the same sleep that night, which was indeed intolerable, and which came upon them out of the bottoms of inevitable hell,15 Were partly vexed with monstrous apparitions, and partly fainted, their heart failing them: for a sudden fear, and not looked for, came upon them.16 So then whosoever there fell down was straitly kept, shut up in a prison without iron bars,17 For whether he were husbandman, or shepherd, or a labourer in the field, he was overtaken, and endured that necessity, which could not be avoided: for they were all bound with one chain of darkness.18 Whether it were a whistling wind, or a melodious noise of birds among the spreading branches, or a pleasing fall of water running violently,19 Or a terrible sound of stones cast down, or a running that could not be seen of skipping beasts, or a roaring voice of most savage wild beasts, or a rebounding echo from the hollow mountains; these things made them to swoon for fear.20 For the whole world shined with clear light, and none were hindered in their labour:21 Over them only was spread an heavy night, an image of that darkness which should afterward receive them: but yet were they unto themselves more grievous than the darkness.
Chapter 18 1 Nevertheless thy saints had a very great light, whose voice they hearing, and not seeing their shape, because they also had not suffered the same things, they counted them happy.2 But for that they did not hurt them now, of whom they had been wronged before, they thanked them, and besought them pardon for that they had been enemies.