BEhold here, in This Piece, the Plague, the Fate
Of a Seditious Schiſm in the Church, and State :
Its Riſe, and Progreſs; with the dire Event
Of a Blind Zeal, and a Pack'd Parliament.
It was This Medley that Confounded All ;
This damn'd Concert of Folly and Cabal,
That Ruin'd us: For ye muſt know, that Fools
Are but State-Engines; Politicians Tools
Ground to an Edg, [sic] to Hack, and Hew it out ;
Till by dull Sots Knaves Ends are brought about.
Think on't, my Maſters; and if e're ye ſee
This Game play'd o're again, then Think of Me.
You'l [sic] ſay This Print's a Satyr, Againſt Whom ?
Thoſe that Crown'd Holy Charles with Martyrdom.
By the ſame rule the Scripture you'l [sic] Traduce,
For ſaying Chriſt was Crucifi'd by th' Jews :
Nay, and their Treaſons too agreed in This ;
By Phariſees Betray'd, and with a Kiſs :
Conſcience, the Cry ; Emmanuel was the Word ;
The Cauſe, the Goſpel; but the Plea, the Sword.
[A] Now lay your Ear cloſe to That Neſt of Heads.
Look, don't ye ſee a Streaming Ray, that ſheds
A Light from the Cabal down to the Table ;
To inſpire, and Puſh on an Enthuſiaſt Rabble ?
In That Box fits a Junto in Debate.
Upon their Soveraigns, and Three Kingdoms Fate :
They're Hot, and Loud enough. Attend 'um pray'e,
From point to point ; and tell us what they ſay.
Is it Reſolved then that the King muſt Down ?
Not for a World ; we'l only take his Crown :
He ſhall have Caps, and Knees ſtill ; and the Fame
Of a fair Title, and Imperial Name :
But for the Sword , the Power fo War, and Peace ;
Life, and Death; and ſuch Fooleries as Theſe;
We'l beg Theſe Boons our ſelves : And Then, in Courſe,
What cannot be Obtein'd by Prayer, we'l Force.
It Reſts, now, only; by what Arts, and Friends,
Methods, and Inſtruments, to gain Theſe Ends.
Firſt, make the People Sure; and That muſt be
By Pleas for Conſcience, Common Liberty :
By which Means, we ſecure a Popu'lar Voyce
For Knights, and Burgeſſes, in the Next Choyce.
If we can get an Act, Then, to Sit on
Till we Diſſolve our Selves, the work's Half-done.
In the mean while, the Pulpits, and the Preſſes
Muſt ring of Popery, Grievances, Addreſſes,
Plots of all Sorts, Invaſions, Maſſacres,
Troops under Ground, Plague Plaiſters, Cavaliers :
Till, Mad with Spite, and Jealouſie, the Nation
Cry out, as One Man, for a Reformation.
Having thus gain'd the Rabble ; it muſt be our
Next Part, the Common-Council to Secure :
And Then, let King, Law, Church, and Court-Cabal,
Unite, and do their Worſt ; we'l Stand 'um All.
Our Deſign's This ; to Change the Government ;
Ste up our Selves ; and do't by'a Parliament.
And This t'effect, needs only Reſolution ;
We'l leave the Tumults to do Execution.
The Popish Lords muſt Out, Biſhops muſt Down ;
Strafford muſt Dye ; and Then, have at the Crown.
We will not leave the King, One Miniſter
The Houſe, One Member ; but what We Prefer :
No nor the Church, One Levite ; Down they go :
We, and the'Prentices will have it ſo.
[B] This was ſcarce ſooner Said, then the thing (Done : [above line]
For upſtarts Little Iſaac, in the Room
Of Loyal Gourney, with a Sword in's hand ;
The Enſign of his New-uſurpt Command :
Out of his Mouth, a Label, to be True
To the deſign of the Caballing Crew :
[C] His Holineſs at's Elbow ; Heart'ning on,
A Molly Schiſm ; Half-Pope, Half-Puritan ;
Who, while they talk of Union, Bawl at Rome ;
Revolt, an ſet up Popery at Home.
[D] Now, bring your Eye down to the Board; and (ſee [above line]
Th' Agreement of that Bleſt Fraternity :
Cov'nanters All; and by That Holy Band
Sworn En'mies to th'Eſtabliſt Law o'th'Land.
Theſe are the Men that Plague all Parliaments,
For the Impoſſible Expedients
Of making Proteſtant Diſſenters, One,
By Acts of Grace, or Comprehenſion :
When, by their very Principles, each other
Thinks Himſelf Bound to Perſecute his Brother.
They never Did, they never Can Unite
In any one Poynt, but t'o'erthrow the Right :
Nor is't at all th' Intent of Their Debate
To fix Religion, but t' embroyl the State ;
Ill Accidents, and Humours to improve,
Under the fair Pretexts of Peace, and Love ;
To ſerve the Turn of an Uſurping Power.
But read their Minutes, and They'l tell ye More.
[E] Take a view, next, of the Petitioners.
But why (you'll ſay) like Beaſts to th' Ark, in Pairs ?
Not to expoſe the Quaker, and the Maid,
(By Luſt to thoſe Brutalities betray'd)
As if thoſe two Sects more addicted ſtood
To Mares, and whelps, then other Fleſh and Blood :
No, But they're coupl'd Here, only to tell
The Harmony of their Reforming Zeal.
[F] Now waſh your Eyes, and ſee their Secretarius
Of Uncouth Viſage; Manners most Nefarious,
Plac'd betwixt Pot and Pipe, with Pen and Paper ;
To ſhew that he can Scribbble, Tope, and Vapour :
Beſide him, (craving Bleſſing) a Sweet Babby [sic];
(Save it!) the very Image of the Daddy!
He deals in Sonnets, Articles, takes Notes,
Frames Hiſtories, Impeachments, enters Votes,
Draws Narratives, (for Four Pound [blackface]) very well ;
But then, 'tis Forty more [blackface], to Paſs the Seal.
Beſide his Faculty, at a Dry Bob,
That brings him many a comfortable Job.
[G] Mark, Now, Thoſe Club-men; that Tumultous (Rout [above line]
Crown, Bible, Magna Charta, under Foot !
Thoſe Banners, Trophies ; and the Execrable
Rage, and Tranſports of an Incenſed Rabble !
Here, the Three States in Chains ; and There, the Head
Of a Good King, by Rebels murthered.
And all this while, the Creatures of Thoſe Knaves,
That blew the Coal, themſelves the greateſt Slaves[.]
What Devil could make Men Mad, to This Degree?
Only miſtaken Zeal, and Jealousie.
Liberty, Conſcience, Popery, the Pretence ;
Rapine, Blood, Sacrilege, the Conſequence.
[H] Let's Croſs the way, Now, to the Doctors Side.
'Tis a good, pretty Girl, that holds his Head !
What's his Diſeaſe, Sweet-Heart? Nay, That's a Queſti-(on; [above line]
His Stomach's Foul, perhaps, 'tis Ill Digeſtion ;
But 'tis a mercy, 't comes ſo finely away :
Here's Canons, Surplices, Apocrypha !
Look what a Lump there lies of Common-Prayer.
Ay, but the Croſs in Baptiſm, that lies There :
O, how he Reacht ; and ſtill, as I provok'd him,
He'd Heave for Life ; 'twas Ten to On't had Choake (him! [above line]
He'd Heave for Life ; 'twas Ten to On't had Choake
Nay verily; This Stuff, in Holder-forth,
May be as much as mans Life is worth.
How Do ye Sir? Why ſomewhat more at Eaſe,
Since I've Diſcharg'd theſe Legal Crudities.
But if your Stomach be ſo'extremely Nice ;
What Courſe do'ye take ? O, I have Good Advice :
All the Diſſenting Proteſtant-Divines ;
There's not a man in the whole Club, but Joyns.
This Pect'ral you muſt know, keeps me alive ;
Sequeſter'd Livings are Preſervative !
But For the Soveraign Remedy of all,
This Only, never-failing Cordial;
There 'tis upon That Shelf : That Compoſition
Th' Aſſembly Took, it ſelf, in my Condition.
The Tears of Widows, Orphans Hearts, and Blood
They made their daily Drink, their daily Food :
Behold our Chriſtian Cannibal's Oblation,
To auſpicate their Moloch Reformation.
[I] Well! But what means This Excremental Swarm
Of Human Inſects ? How they Fret, and Storm ;
Grin at the Vomit ; and yet for all other Pother ;
At the ſame Time, ly teizing one another.
Alas! 'Tis too, too true. you've Hit my Grief :
And there's no Help, no Help for't ; no Relief.
While They joyn'd Hands with Us, againſt the Crown,
And Church ; How ſweetly the Lords work went on !
But when we came to plant our Directory,
'Bleſs me, what Freaks they play'd! you know the Story.
Oh! of themſelves, they're e'en a Vip'rous Brood;
Begot in Diſcord, and brought up with Blood.
'Twas We that gave 'um Life, Credit, and Name:
Til the Ungrateful Brats devour'd their Dam.
What could ye look for elſe ? For 'tis Dominion,
That you do all contend for, not Opinion.
If you'l have any Government ; then ſay,
Which Party ſhall Command, and which Obey.
Power is the thing ye both Affect, and Hate.
Every one would, ye Cannot, All be Great:
This is, in ſhort, the Sum of the Conteſt ;
Still He that's Up, 's an Eye-ſore to the Reſt.
Presbytery breeds Worms: This Maggot-Fry
Is but the Spawn of Lawleſs Liberty.
Licenſe, is like a Sea-Breach to your Grounds ;
Suffer but One Flaw, the whole Country Drowns.
No comments:
Post a Comment