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O•cidat, modo imperet, let my Son kill me so he may be Emperour (saith Agrippina of Nero.) It were a happy degree of mortificatiō, would our proud flesh be content to say, Let me be crucified, so my soule may raigne with God. S. Lucy in the Legend, who pul'd out her own eyes, mistooke the Text. A darling sinne is that rigbt eye, which thou art to pull out; and some wicked beloued instrument is that right hand, which we are to cut off. If we cocker Adoniah, our owne flesh, let vs know that one day this wanton will proue a Rebell, and wee shall be scourged with a Scorpion of our owne bowels. |
O•cidat, modo imperet, let my Son kill me so he may be Emperor (Says Agrippina of Nero.) It were a happy degree of mortification, would our proud Flesh be content to say, Let me be Crucified, so my soul may Reign with God. S. Lucy in the Legend, who pulled out her own eyes, mistook the Text. A darling sin is that rigbt eye, which thou art to pull out; and Some wicked Beloved Instrument is that right hand, which we Are to Cut off. If we cocker Adoniah, our own Flesh, let us know that one day this wanton will prove a Rebel, and we shall be scourged with a Scorpion of our own bowels. |
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