The Works of Mr Abraham Cowley Consisting of Those which were formerly Printed: And Those which he Design'd for the Press, Now Published out of the Authors Original Copies ... The Text Edited by A. R. Waller |
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 | The Works of Mr Abraham Cowley |  |
149
A SATYRE. THE PURITAN AND THE PAPIST.
150
So two rude waves, by stormes together throwne,
Roare at each other, fight, and then grow one.
Religion is a Circle; men contend,
And runne the round in dispute without end.
Now in a Circle who goe contrary,
Must at the last meet of necessity.
The Roman to advance the Catholicke cause
Allowes a Lie, and calls it Pia Fraus.
The Puritan approves and does the same,
Dislikes nought in it but the Latin name.
He flowes with these devises, and dares ly
In very deed, in truth, and verity.
He whines, and sighes out Lies, with so much ruth,
As if he griev'd, 'cause he could ne're speake truth.
Lies have possest the Presse so, as their due,
'Twill scarcely, 'I feare, henceforth print Bibles true.
Lies for their next strong Fort ha'th' Pulpit chose,
There throng out at the Preachers mouth, and nose.
And how e're grosse, are certaine to beguile
The poore Booke-turners of the middle Isle.
Nay to th' Almighty's selfe they have beene bold
To ly, and their blasphemous Minister told
They might say false to God, for if they were
Beaten, he knew't not, for he was not there.
But God, who their great thankefulnesse did see,
Rewards them straight with another Victorie,
Just such another at Brainceford; and san's doubt
Will weary er't be long their gratitude out.
Not all the Legends of the Saints of old,
Not vast Baronius, nor sly Surius hold
Such plenty of apparent Lies, as are
In your one Author, Jo. Browne Cleric. Par.
Besides what your small Poets have said, or writ,
Brookes, Strode, and the Baron of the Saw-pit:
With many a Mentall Reservation,
You'le maintaine Liberty, Reserv'd [your owne.]
For th' publique good the summes rais'd you'le disburse;
Reserv'd, [The greater part for your owne purse.]
You'le root the Cavaliers out, every man;
Faith, let it be reserv'd here; [If yee can.]
You'le make our gracious Charles, a glorious King;
Reserv'd [in Heaven,] for thither ye would bring
His Royall Head; the onely secure roome
For glorious Kings, whither you'le never come.
To keepe the estates o'th' Subjects you pretend;
Reserv'd [in your owne Trunkes;] you will defend
The Church of England, 'tis your Protestation;
But that's New-England, by'a small Reservation.
Roare at each other, fight, and then grow one.
Religion is a Circle; men contend,
And runne the round in dispute without end.
Now in a Circle who goe contrary,
Must at the last meet of necessity.
The Roman to advance the Catholicke cause
Allowes a Lie, and calls it Pia Fraus.
The Puritan approves and does the same,
Dislikes nought in it but the Latin name.
He flowes with these devises, and dares ly
In very deed, in truth, and verity.
He whines, and sighes out Lies, with so much ruth,
As if he griev'd, 'cause he could ne're speake truth.
Lies have possest the Presse so, as their due,
'Twill scarcely, 'I feare, henceforth print Bibles true.
Lies for their next strong Fort ha'th' Pulpit chose,
There throng out at the Preachers mouth, and nose.
And how e're grosse, are certaine to beguile
The poore Booke-turners of the middle Isle.
Nay to th' Almighty's selfe they have beene bold
To ly, and their blasphemous Minister told
They might say false to God, for if they were
Beaten, he knew't not, for he was not there.
But God, who their great thankefulnesse did see,
Rewards them straight with another Victorie,
Just such another at Brainceford; and san's doubt
Will weary er't be long their gratitude out.
151
Not vast Baronius, nor sly Surius hold
Such plenty of apparent Lies, as are
In your one Author, Jo. Browne Cleric. Par.
Besides what your small Poets have said, or writ,
Brookes, Strode, and the Baron of the Saw-pit:
With many a Mentall Reservation,
You'le maintaine Liberty, Reserv'd [your owne.]
For th' publique good the summes rais'd you'le disburse;
Reserv'd, [The greater part for your owne purse.]
You'le root the Cavaliers out, every man;
Faith, let it be reserv'd here; [If yee can.]
You'le make our gracious Charles, a glorious King;
Reserv'd [in Heaven,] for thither ye would bring
His Royall Head; the onely secure roome
For glorious Kings, whither you'le never come.
To keepe the estates o'th' Subjects you pretend;
Reserv'd [in your owne Trunkes;] you will defend
The Church of England, 'tis your Protestation;
But that's New-England, by'a small Reservation.
Power of dispensing Oaths the Papists claime;
Case hath got leave o' God, to doe the same.
For you doe hate all swearing so, that when
You have sworne an Oath, ye breake it streight agen.
A Curse upon you! which hurts most these Nations,
Cavaliers swearing, or your Protestations?
Nay, though Oaths by you be so much abhorr'd,
Ye allow God damne me in the Puritan Lord.
Case hath got leave o' God, to doe the same.
For you doe hate all swearing so, that when
You have sworne an Oath, ye breake it streight agen.
A Curse upon you! which hurts most these Nations,
Cavaliers swearing, or your Protestations?
Nay, though Oaths by you be so much abhorr'd,
Ye allow God damne me in the Puritan Lord.
They keepe the Bible from Lay-men, but ye
Avoid this, for ye have no Laytie.
They in a forraigne, and unknowne tongue pray,
You in an unknowne sence your prayers say:
So that this difference 'twixt ye does ensue,
Fooles understand not them, nor Wise men you.
Avoid this, for ye have no Laytie.
They in a forraigne, and unknowne tongue pray,
You in an unknowne sence your prayers say:
So that this difference 'twixt ye does ensue,
Fooles understand not them, nor Wise men you.
They an unprofitable zeale have got,
Of invocating Saints that heare them not.
'Twere well you did so; nought may more be fear'd
In your fond prayers, then that they should be heard.
To them your Non-sence well enough might passe,
They'd ne're see that i'th' Divine Looking-glasse:
Nay, whether you'de worship Saints is not yet knowne,
For ye'have as yet of your Religion none.
Of invocating Saints that heare them not.
'Twere well you did so; nought may more be fear'd
In your fond prayers, then that they should be heard.
To them your Non-sence well enough might passe,
They'd ne're see that i'th' Divine Looking-glasse:
152
For ye'have as yet of your Religion none.
They by good-workes thinke to be justified,
You into the same errour deeper slide;
You thinke by workes too justified to be,
And those ill workes, Lies, Treason, Perjurie.
But oh your faith is mighty, that hath beene,
As true faith ought to be, of things unseene.
At Worc'ster, Brainceford, and Edge hill, we see,
Onely by faith you'have gotten victory.
Such is your faith, and some such unseene way
The publique faith at last your debts will pay.
You into the same errour deeper slide;
You thinke by workes too justified to be,
And those ill workes, Lies, Treason, Perjurie.
But oh your faith is mighty, that hath beene,
As true faith ought to be, of things unseene.
At Worc'ster, Brainceford, and Edge hill, we see,
Onely by faith you'have gotten victory.
Such is your faith, and some such unseene way
The publique faith at last your debts will pay.
They hold free-will (that nought their soules may bind)
As the great Priviledge of all mankind.
You're here more moderate, for 'tis your intent,
To make't a Priv'ledge but of Parliament.
They forbid Priests to marry; you worse doe,
Their Marriage you allow, yet punish too:
For you'de make Priests so poore, that upon all
Who marry, scorne and beggery must fall.
As the great Priviledge of all mankind.
You're here more moderate, for 'tis your intent,
To make't a Priv'ledge but of Parliament.
They forbid Priests to marry; you worse doe,
Their Marriage you allow, yet punish too:
For you'de make Priests so poore, that upon all
Who marry, scorne and beggery must fall.
They a bold power o're sacred Scriptures take,
Blot out some Clauses, and some new ones make.
Your great Lord Jesuite Brookes publiquely said,
(Brookes whom too little learning hath made mad)
That to correct the Creed ye should doe well,
And blot out Christs descending into Hell.
Repent wild man, or you'le ne're change, I feare,
The sentence of your owne descending there.
Blot out some Clauses, and some new ones make.
Your great Lord Jesuite Brookes publiquely said,
(Brookes whom too little learning hath made mad)
That to correct the Creed ye should doe well,
And blot out Christs descending into Hell.
Repent wild man, or you'le ne're change, I feare,
The sentence of your owne descending there.
Yet modestly they use the Creed, for they
Would take the Lords prayer Root and Branch away.
And wisely said a Levit of our nation,
The Lords Prayer was a Popish Innovation.
Take heed, you'le grant ere long it should be said,
An't be but to desire your daily Bread.
Would take the Lords prayer Root and Branch away.
And wisely said a Levit of our nation,
The Lords Prayer was a Popish Innovation.
Take heed, you'le grant ere long it should be said,
An't be but to desire your daily Bread.
They keepe the people ignorant, and you
Keepe both the People, and yourselves so too.
They blind obedience and blind duty teach;
You blind Rebellion and blind faction preach.
Nor can I blame you much, that yee advance
That which can onely save yee, Ignorance;
Though Heaven be praysed, t'has oft beene proved well
Your Ignorance is not Invincible.
Nay such bold lies to God him selfe yee vaunt,
As if you'd faine keepe him too ignorant.
Keepe both the People, and yourselves so too.
They blind obedience and blind duty teach;
You blind Rebellion and blind faction preach.
Nor can I blame you much, that yee advance
That which can onely save yee, Ignorance;
153
Your Ignorance is not Invincible.
Nay such bold lies to God him selfe yee vaunt,
As if you'd faine keepe him too ignorant.
Limbus and Purgatory they beleive
For lesser sinners, that is, I conceive,
Malignants onely; you this Tricke does please,
For the same Cause ye'have made new Limbuses,
Where we may ly imprison'd long ere we
A day of Judgement in your Courts shall see.
But Pym can, like the Pope with this dispence;
And for a Bribe deliver Soules from thence.
For lesser sinners, that is, I conceive,
Malignants onely; you this Tricke does please,
For the same Cause ye'have made new Limbuses,
Where we may ly imprison'd long ere we
A day of Judgement in your Courts shall see.
But Pym can, like the Pope with this dispence;
And for a Bribe deliver Soules from thence.
Their Councels claime Infallibility,
Such must your Conventicle-synod be;
And Teachers from all Parts of th' Earth yee call,
To mak't a Councell Oecumenicall.
Such must your Conventicle-synod be;
And Teachers from all Parts of th' Earth yee call,
To mak't a Councell Oecumenicall.
They sev'rall times appoint from meats t'abstaine;
You now for th' Irish warres a Fast ordaine;
And that that Kingdome might be sure to fast
Yee take a Course to sterve them all at last.
Nay though yee keepe no Eves, Fridayes, nor Lent,
Not to dresse meate on Sundayes you're Content;
Then you repeat, repeat, and pray, and pray;
Your Teeth keepe Sabboth, and Tongues working day.
You now for th' Irish warres a Fast ordaine;
And that that Kingdome might be sure to fast
Yee take a Course to sterve them all at last.
Nay though yee keepe no Eves, Fridayes, nor Lent,
Not to dresse meate on Sundayes you're Content;
Then you repeat, repeat, and pray, and pray;
Your Teeth keepe Sabboth, and Tongues working day.
They preserve Reliques; you have few or none,
Unlesse the Clout sent to John Pym be one.
And Hollises rich Widow, Shee who carryed
A Relique in her wombe before she married.
Unlesse the Clout sent to John Pym be one.
And Hollises rich Widow, Shee who carryed
A Relique in her wombe before she married.
They in succeeding Peter take a Pride;
So doe you; for your Master ye'have denyed.
But cheifely Peters Priviledge yee choose,
At your own wills to bind and to unloose.
He was a Fisherman; you may be so too,
When nothing but your ships are left to you.
He went to Rome, to Rome you Backward ride,
(Though both your goings are by some denyed.)
Nor i'st a Contradiction, if we say,
You goe to Rome the quite Contrary way;
He dy'd o'the Crosse; that death's unusuall now;
The Gallowes is most like't, and that's for you.
So doe you; for your Master ye'have denyed.
But cheifely Peters Priviledge yee choose,
At your own wills to bind and to unloose.
He was a Fisherman; you may be so too,
When nothing but your ships are left to you.
He went to Rome, to Rome you Backward ride,
(Though both your goings are by some denyed.)
Nor i'st a Contradiction, if we say,
You goe to Rome the quite Contrary way;
He dy'd o'the Crosse; that death's unusuall now;
The Gallowes is most like't, and that's for you.
154
They musicke love i'th Church; it offends your sence,
And therefore yee have sung it out from thence,
Which shewes, if right your mind be understood,
You hate it not as Musicke, but as Good.
Your madnesse makes you sing, as much as they
Dance, who are bit with a Tarantula.
But do not to your selves (alas) appeare
The most Religious Traitors that ere were,
Because your Troopes singing of Psalmes do goe;
Ther's many a Traytor has marcht Holbourn so.
Nor was't your wit this holy project bore;
Tweed and the Tyne has seene those Trickes before.
And therefore yee have sung it out from thence,
Which shewes, if right your mind be understood,
You hate it not as Musicke, but as Good.
Your madnesse makes you sing, as much as they
Dance, who are bit with a Tarantula.
But do not to your selves (alas) appeare
The most Religious Traitors that ere were,
Because your Troopes singing of Psalmes do goe;
Ther's many a Traytor has marcht Holbourn so.
Nor was't your wit this holy project bore;
Tweed and the Tyne has seene those Trickes before.
They of strange Miracles and wonders tell,
You are your selves a kind of Miracle;
Even such a miracle as in writ divine
We read o'th Devills hurrying downe the Swine.
They have made Images to speake, 'tis said,
You a dull Image have your Speaker made;
And that your bounty in offerings might abound,
Y'have to that Idoll giv'n six thousand pound.
They drive out Devills, they say; here yee begin
To differ, I confesse; you let them in.
You are your selves a kind of Miracle;
Even such a miracle as in writ divine
We read o'th Devills hurrying downe the Swine.
They have made Images to speake, 'tis said,
You a dull Image have your Speaker made;
And that your bounty in offerings might abound,
Y'have to that Idoll giv'n six thousand pound.
They drive out Devills, they say; here yee begin
To differ, I confesse; you let them in.
They maintaine Transubstantiation;
You by a Contrary Philosophers stone,
To Transubstantiate Mettalls, have the skill;
And turne the Kingdomes Gold to I'ron and Steele.
I'th' Sacrament yee agree not, but 'tis noted,
Bread must be Flesh, Wine Bloud, if ere't be voted.
You by a Contrary Philosophers stone,
To Transubstantiate Mettalls, have the skill;
And turne the Kingdomes Gold to I'ron and Steele.
I'th' Sacrament yee agree not, but 'tis noted,
Bread must be Flesh, Wine Bloud, if ere't be voted.
They make the Pope their Head, you'exalt for him
Primate and Metropolitane, Master Pym;
Nay, White, who sits in the Infallible Chaire,
And most Infallibly speakes Non-sence there:
Nay Cromwell, Pury, Whistler, Sir John Wray,
He who does say, and say, and say, and say.
Nay Lowry, who does new Church-Gover'ment wish,
And Prophesies, like Jonas, midst the Fish.
Who can such various businesse wisely sway,
And handle Herrings, and Bishops in one day.
Nay all your Preachers, Women, Boyes, or Men,
From Master Calamy, to Mistresse Ven,
Are perfect Popes in their owne Parish growne;
For to outdoe the story of Pope Jone:
Your Women preach too, and are like to bee
The Whores of Babylon, as much as Shee.
Primate and Metropolitane, Master Pym;
Nay, White, who sits in the Infallible Chaire,
And most Infallibly speakes Non-sence there:
Nay Cromwell, Pury, Whistler, Sir John Wray,
He who does say, and say, and say, and say.
Nay Lowry, who does new Church-Gover'ment wish,
And Prophesies, like Jonas, midst the Fish.
Who can such various businesse wisely sway,
And handle Herrings, and Bishops in one day.
Nay all your Preachers, Women, Boyes, or Men,
From Master Calamy, to Mistresse Ven,
155
For to outdoe the story of Pope Jone:
Your Women preach too, and are like to bee
The Whores of Babylon, as much as Shee.
They depose Kings by force; by force you'de doe it,
But first use faire meanes to perswade them to it.
They dare kill Kings; now 'twixt ye here's the strife,
That you dare shoot at Kings, to save their life.
And what's the difference, 'pray, whether he fall
By the Popes Bull or your Oxe Generall?
Three Kingdomes thus ye strive to make your owne;
And, like the Pope, usurpe a Triple Crowne.
But first use faire meanes to perswade them to it.
They dare kill Kings; now 'twixt ye here's the strife,
That you dare shoot at Kings, to save their life.
And what's the difference, 'pray, whether he fall
By the Popes Bull or your Oxe Generall?
Three Kingdomes thus ye strive to make your owne;
And, like the Pope, usurpe a Triple Crowne.
Such is your Faith, such your Religion;
Let's view your manners now, and then I ha' done.
Your Covetousnesse let gasping Ireland tell,
Where first the Irish Lands, and next ye sell
The English Bloud; and raise Rebellion here,
With that which should suppresse, and quench it there.
What mighty summes have ye squeez'd out o'th' City?
Enough to make 'em poore, and something witty.
Excise, Loanes, Contributions, Pole-moneys,
Bribes, Plunder, and such Parliament Priviledges,
Are words which you'le ne're learne in holy Writ,
'Till the Spirit and your Synod ha's mended it.
Where's all the Twentieth part now, which hath beene
Paid you by some, to forfeit the Nineteene?
Where's all the Goods distrain'd, and Plunders past?
For you're growne wretched, pilfering knaves at last;
Descend to Brasse and Pewter; till of late,
Like Midas, all ye toucht, must needs be Plate.
Let's view your manners now, and then I ha' done.
Your Covetousnesse let gasping Ireland tell,
Where first the Irish Lands, and next ye sell
The English Bloud; and raise Rebellion here,
With that which should suppresse, and quench it there.
What mighty summes have ye squeez'd out o'th' City?
Enough to make 'em poore, and something witty.
Excise, Loanes, Contributions, Pole-moneys,
Bribes, Plunder, and such Parliament Priviledges,
Are words which you'le ne're learne in holy Writ,
'Till the Spirit and your Synod ha's mended it.
Where's all the Twentieth part now, which hath beene
Paid you by some, to forfeit the Nineteene?
Where's all the Goods distrain'd, and Plunders past?
For you're growne wretched, pilfering knaves at last;
Descend to Brasse and Pewter; till of late,
Like Midas, all ye toucht, must needs be Plate.
By what vast hopes is your Ambition fed?
'Tis writ in bloud, and may be plainly read.
You must have Places, and the Kingdome sway;
The King must be a Ward to your Lord Say.
Your innocent Speaker to the Rolles must rise,
Six thousand pound hath made him proud and wise.
Kimbolton for his Fathers place doth call;
Would be like him; would he were, face and all.
Isaack would alwayes be Lord Mayor, and so
May alwayes be, as much as he is now.
For the Five Members, they so richly thrive,
They'le but continue alwayes Members Five.
Onely Pym doth his naturall right enforce,
By the Mothers side he's Master of the Horse.
Most shall have Places by these popular tricks,
The rest must be content with Bishopricks.
'Tis writ in bloud, and may be plainly read.
You must have Places, and the Kingdome sway;
The King must be a Ward to your Lord Say.
Your innocent Speaker to the Rolles must rise,
Six thousand pound hath made him proud and wise.
Kimbolton for his Fathers place doth call;
Would be like him; would he were, face and all.
Isaack would alwayes be Lord Mayor, and so
May alwayes be, as much as he is now.
156
They'le but continue alwayes Members Five.
Onely Pym doth his naturall right enforce,
By the Mothers side he's Master of the Horse.
Most shall have Places by these popular tricks,
The rest must be content with Bishopricks.
For 'tis 'gainst Superstition your intent,
First to root out that great Church Ornament,
Money and Lands; your swords, alas, are drawne,
Against the Bishop, not his Cap, or Lawne.
First to root out that great Church Ornament,
Money and Lands; your swords, alas, are drawne,
Against the Bishop, not his Cap, or Lawne.
O let not such loud Sacriledge begin,
Tempted by Henries rich successefull sinne.
Henry the Monster King of all that age;
Wilde in his Lust, and wilder in his Rage.
Expect not you his Fate, though Hotham thrives
In imitating Henries tricke for Wives,
Nor fewer Churches hopes then Wives to see
Buried, and then their Lands his owne to bee.
Tempted by Henries rich successefull sinne.
Henry the Monster King of all that age;
Wilde in his Lust, and wilder in his Rage.
Expect not you his Fate, though Hotham thrives
In imitating Henries tricke for Wives,
Nor fewer Churches hopes then Wives to see
Buried, and then their Lands his owne to bee.
Ye boundlesse Tyr[a]nts, how doe you outvy
Th' Athenian Thirty, Romes Decemviri?
In Rage, Injustice, Cruelty as farre
Above those men, as you in number are.
What Mysteries of Iniquity doe we see?
New Prisons made to defend Libertie;
Where without cause, some are undone, some dy,
Like men bewitcht, they know not how, nor why.
Our Goods forc'd from us for Propriety's sake;
And all the Reall Non-sence which ye make.
Ship-money was unjustly ta'ne, ye say;
Unjustlier farre you take the Ships away.
The High-Commission you calld Tyrannie,
Ye did; Good God! what is the High-Committee?
Ye said that gifts and bribes Preferments bought,
By Money and Bloud too, they now are sought.
To the Kings will the Lawes men strove to draw;
The Subjects will is now become the Law.
'Twas fear'd a New Religion would begin;
All new Religions now are entred in.
The King Delinquents to protect did strive;
What Clubs, Pikes, Halberts, Lighters, sav'd the Five?
You thinke the Parliament, like your State of Grace,
What ever sinnes men doe, they keepe their place.
Invasions then were fear'd against the State,
And Strode swore that last yeare would be 'Eighty-Eight.
You bring in Forraine aid to your designes;
First those great Forraine Forces of Divines,
With which Ships from America were fraught;
Rather may stinking Tobacco still be brought
From thence, I say; next ye the Scots invite,
Which ye terme Brotherly Assistants right;
For with them you intend England to share:
They, who, alas, but younger Brothers are,
Must have the Monies for their Portion;
The Houses and the Lands will be your owne.
We thanke ye for the wounds which we endure,
Whil'st scratches and slight pricks ye seeke to cure.
We thanke ye for true reall feares at last,
Which free us from so ma[n]y false ones past.
We thanke ye for the Bloud which fats our Coast,
(That fatall debt paid to great Straffords Ghost.)
We thanke ye for the ills receiv'd, and all
Which by your diligence in good time we shall.
We thanke ye, and our gratitude's as great
As yours, when you thank'd God for being beat.
Th' Athenian Thirty, Romes Decemviri?
In Rage, Injustice, Cruelty as farre
Above those men, as you in number are.
What Mysteries of Iniquity doe we see?
New Prisons made to defend Libertie;
Where without cause, some are undone, some dy,
Like men bewitcht, they know not how, nor why.
Our Goods forc'd from us for Propriety's sake;
And all the Reall Non-sence which ye make.
Ship-money was unjustly ta'ne, ye say;
Unjustlier farre you take the Ships away.
The High-Commission you calld Tyrannie,
Ye did; Good God! what is the High-Committee?
Ye said that gifts and bribes Preferments bought,
By Money and Bloud too, they now are sought.
To the Kings will the Lawes men strove to draw;
The Subjects will is now become the Law.
'Twas fear'd a New Religion would begin;
All new Religions now are entred in.
The King Delinquents to protect did strive;
What Clubs, Pikes, Halberts, Lighters, sav'd the Five?
157
What ever sinnes men doe, they keepe their place.
Invasions then were fear'd against the State,
And Strode swore that last yeare would be 'Eighty-Eight.
You bring in Forraine aid to your designes;
First those great Forraine Forces of Divines,
With which Ships from America were fraught;
Rather may stinking Tobacco still be brought
From thence, I say; next ye the Scots invite,
Which ye terme Brotherly Assistants right;
For with them you intend England to share:
They, who, alas, but younger Brothers are,
Must have the Monies for their Portion;
The Houses and the Lands will be your owne.
We thanke ye for the wounds which we endure,
Whil'st scratches and slight pricks ye seeke to cure.
We thanke ye for true reall feares at last,
Which free us from so ma[n]y false ones past.
We thanke ye for the Bloud which fats our Coast,
(That fatall debt paid to great Straffords Ghost.)
We thanke ye for the ills receiv'd, and all
Which by your diligence in good time we shall.
We thanke ye, and our gratitude's as great
As yours, when you thank'd God for being beat.
A. C.
FINIS.
| The Works of Mr Abraham Cowley | |