University of Virginia Library

Long had the fam'd Impostor found Success,
Long seen his damn'd Fraterniti's increase,
In Wealth, and Power, Mischief, and Guile improv'd.
By Popes, and Pope-rid Kings upheld, and lov'd:
Laden with Years, and Sins, and num'rous Scars,
Got some i'th' Field, but most in other Wars,
Now finding Life decay, and Fate draw near,
Grown ripe for Hell, and Roman Calendar,
He thinks it worth his Holy Thoughts, and Care,
Some hidden Rules, and Secrets to Impart,
The Proofs of long Experience and deep Art,
Which to his Successors may useful be
In conduct of their future Villany.
Summon'd together, all th' Officious Band
The Orders of their Bedrid-Chief attend;
Doubtful, what Legacy he will bequeath,
And wait with greedy Ears his dying Breath:
With such quick Duty Vassal Fiends below
To meet commands of their Dread Monarch go.

On Pillow rais'd, he do's their entrance greet,
And joys to see the wish'd Assembly meet:
They in glad Murmurs tell their Joy aloud,
Then a deep silence stills th' expecting Croud,
Like Delphick Hag of old, by Fiend possest,
He swells, wild Frenzy, heaves his panting Brest,
His bristling Hairs stick up, his Eye-Balls glow,
And from his Mouth long strakes of Drivel flow:
Thrice with due Rev'rence he himself doth cross,
Then thus his Hellish Oracles disclose.

Ye firm Associates of my great Design,
Whom the same Vows, and Oaths, and Order joyn,
The faithful Band, whom I, and Rome have chose,
The last Support of our declining Cause:
Whose Conqu'ring Troops I with Success have led
'Gainst all Opposers of our Church, and Head;
Who e're to the mad German owe their Rise,
Geneva's Rebels, or the hot-brain'd Swiss;
Revolted Hereticks, who late have broke
And durst throw off the long-worn Sacred Yoke:
You, by whose happy Influence Rome can boast
A greater Empire, than by Luther lost:
By whom wide Nature's far-stretch'd Limits now,
And utmost Indies to its Crosier Bow:

Go on, ye mighty Champions of our Cause,
Maintain our Party, and subdue our Foes:
Kill Heresie, that rank, and pois'nous Weed,
Which threatens now the Church to overspread:
Fire Calvin, and his Nest of Upstarts out,
Who tread our Sacred Mitre under Foot;
Stray'd Germany reduce; let it no more
Th' Incestuous Monk of Wittemberg adore:
Make stubborn Engl. once more stoop its Crown,
And Fealty to our Priestly Sovereign own:
Regain our Church's Rights, the Island clear
From all remaining Dregs of Wickliff there.
Plot, Enterprize, contrive, endeavour: spare
No toil, nor Pains: no Death, nor Danger fear:
Restless your Aims pursue: let no defeat
Your sprightly Courage, and Attempts rebate,
But urge to fresh, and bolder, ne're to end
Till the whole World to our great Caliph bend:
Till he thro' every Nation every where
Bear Sway, and Reign as absolute, as here:
Till Rome without controul, and Contest be
The Universal Ghostly Monarchy.

Oh! that kind Heaven a longer Thread would give,
And let me to that happy Juncture live:
But 'tis decreed!—at this he paus'd, and wept,
The rest alike time with his Sorrow kept:
Then thus continued he—Since unjust Fate
Envies my Race of Glory longer date;
Yet, as a wounded General, e're he dies,
To his sad Troops, sighs out his last Advice,
(Who, tho they must his fatal Absence moan,
By those great Lessons conquer, when he's gone)
So I to you my last Instructions give,
And breath out Counsel with my parting Life:
Let each to my important words give Ear,
Worth your attention, and my dying Care.

First, and the chiefest thing by me enjoyn'd.
The Solemn'st tie, that must your Order bind,
Let each without demur, or scruple pay
A strict Obedience to the Roman Sway:
To the unerring Chair all Homage Swear,
Altho a Punk, a Witch, a Fiend sit there:
Who e're is to the Sacred Mitre rear'd,
Believe all Vertues with the place conferr'd:
Think him establish'd there by Heav'n, tho he
Has Altars rob'd for bribes the choice to buy,
Or pawn'd his Soul to Hell for Simony:
Tho he be Atheist, Heathen, Turk, or Jew,
Blasphemer, Sacrilegious, Perjur'd too:
Tho Pander, Bawd, Pimp, Pathick, Buggerer,
What e're old Sodom's Nest of Lechers were:
Tho Tyrant, Traitor, Pois'oner, Parricide,
Magician, Monster, all, that's bad beside:
Fouler than Infamy; the very Lees,
The Sink, the Jakes, the Common-shore of Vice:
Strait count him Holy, Vertuous, Good, Devout,
Chast, Gentle, Meek, a Saint, a God, who not?

Make Fate hang on his Lips, nor Heaven have
Pow'r to Predestinate without his leave:
None be admitted there, but who he please,
Who buys from him the Patent for the Place.
Hold those amongst the highest rank of Saints,
Whom e're he to that Honour shall advance,
Tho here the Refuse of the Jail, and Stews,
Which Hell it self would scarce for lumber chuse:
But count all Reprobate, and Damn'd, and worse,
Whom he, when Gout, or Tissick Rage, shall curse:
Whom he in Anger Excommunicates,
For Friday Meals, and abrogating Sprats:
Or in just Indignation spurns to Hell
For jearing Holy Toe, and Pantofle.

What e're he says, esteem for Holy Writ,
And text Apocryphal, if he think fit:
Let arrant Legends, worst of Tales, and Lies,
Falser than Capgraves, and Voragines,
Than Quixot, Rablais, Amadis de Gaul;
Is sign'd with Sacred Lead, and Fisher's Seal
Be thought Authentick and Canonical.
Again, if he Ordain't in his Decrees,
Let very Gospel for meer Fable pass:
Let Right be wrong, Black White, and Vertue Vice,
No Sun, no Moon, nor no Antipodes:
Forswear your Reason, Conscience, & your Creed,
Your very Sense, and Euclid, if he bid.

Let it be held less heinous, less amiss,
To break all Gods Commands, than one of his:
When his great Missions call, without delay,
Without Reluctance readily Obey,
Nor let your Inmost Wishes dare gainsay:
Should he to Bantam, or Japan command,
Or farthest Bounds of Southern unknown Land,
Farther than Avarice its Vassals drives,
Thro' Rocks, and Dangers, loss of Blood, and Lives;
Like great Xavier's be your Obedience shown,
Outstrip his Courage, Glory, and Renown;
Whom neither yawning Gulphs of deep Despair,
Nor scorching Heats of burning Line could scare:
Whom Seas, nor Storms, nor Wracks could make refrain
From propagating Holy Faith, and Gain.

If he but nod Commissions out to kill,
But becken Lives of Hereticks to spill;
Let th' Inquisition rage, fresh Cruelties
Make the dire Engines groan with tortur'd Cries:
Let Campo Flori every day be strow'd
With the warm Ashes of the Luth'ran Brood:
Repeat again Bohemian Slaughters ore,
And Piedmont Vallies drown with floating Gore:
Swifter than Murdering Angels, when they fly
On Errands of avenging Destiny.
Fiercer than Storms let loose, with eager haste
Lay Cities, Countries, Realms, whole Nature waste.
Sack, Ravish, burn, destroy, slay, massacre,
Till the same Grave their Lives, and Names interr:

These are the Rights to our great Musty due,
The sworn Allegiance of your Sacred Vow:
What else we in our Votaries require,
What other Gift, next follows to enquire.

And first it will our great Advice befit.
What Soldiers to your Lists yon ought admit,
To Natives of the Church, and Faith, like you,
The foremost rank of Choice is justly due:
'Mongst whom the chiefest place assign to those,
Whose Zeal has mostly Signaliz'd the Cause.
But let not Entrance be to them deny'd,
Who ever shall desert the adverse Side:
Omit no Promises of Wealth, or Power,
That may inveigled Hereticks allure:
Those, whom great learning, parts, or wit renowns,
Cajole with hopes of Honours, Scarlet Gowns,
Provincial ships, and Palls, and Triple Crowns.
This must a Rector, that a Provost be,
A third succed to the next Abbacy:
Some Princes Tutors, others Confessors
To Dukes, and Kings, and Queens, and Emperors:
These are strong Arguments, which seldom fail,
Which more than all your weak disputes prevail.

Exclude not those of less desert, decree
To all Revolters your Foundation free:
To all, whom Gaming, Drunkenness, or Lust,
To Need, and Popery shall have reduc'd:
To all, whom slighted Love, Ambition crost,
Hopes often bilk't, and Sought Preferment lost,
Whom Pride, or Discontent, Revenge, or Spite,
Fear, Frenzy, or Despair shall Proselyte:
Those Pow'rful Motives, which the most bring in,
Most Converts to our Church, and Order win.
Reject not those, whom Guilt, and Crimes at home
Have made to us for Sanctuary come:
Let Sinners of each Hue, and Size, and Kind,
Here quick admittance, and safe Refuge find:
Be they from Justice of their Country fled,
With Blood of Murders, Rapes, and Treasons died:
No Varlet, Rogue, or Miscreant refuse,
From Gallies, Jails, or Hell it self broke loose.
By this you shall in Strength, and Numbers grow
And shoals each day to your throng'd Cloisters flow:
So Rome's and Mecca's first great Founders did,
By such wise Methods made their Churches spread.

When shaven Crown, and hallow'd Girdle's Power
Has dub'd him Saint, that Villain was before;
Enter'd, let it his first Endeavour be
To shake off all remains of Modesty,
Dull sneaking Modesty, not more unfit
For needy flatt'ring Poets, when they write,
Or trading Punks, than for a Jesuit:
If any Novice feel at first a blush,
Let Wine, and frequent converse with the Stews
Reform the Fop, and shame it out of Use,
Unteach the puling Folly by degrees,
And train him to a well-bred Shamelesness.
Get that great Gift, and Talent, Impudence,
Accomplish't Mankind's highest Excellence:
'Tis that alone prefers, alone makes great,
Confers alone Wealth, Titles, and Estate:
Gains Place at Court, can make a Fool a Peer,
An Ass a Bishop, can vil'st Blockheads rear
To wear Red Hats, and sit in Porph'ry Chair.
'Tis Learning, Parts, and Skill, and Wit, and Sense,
Worth, Merit, Honour, Vertue, Innocence.

Next for Religion, learn what's fit to take,
How small a Dram do's the just Compond make.
As much as is by the Crafty States-men worn
For Fashion only, or to serve a turn:
To bigot Fools its idle Practice leave,
Think it enough the empty Form to have:
The outward Show is seemly, cheap, and light,
The Substance Cumbersome, of Cost, and Weight:
The Rabble judge by what appears to th' Eye,
None, or but few the Thoughts within Descry.
Make't you an Engine to ambitious Pow'r
To stalk behind, and hit your Mark more sure:
A Cloak to cover well-hid Knavery,
Like it, when us'd, to be with ease thrown by:
A shifting Card, by which your Course to steer,
And taught with every changing Wind to veer.
Let no Nice, Holy, Conscientious Ass
Amongst your better Company find place,
Me, and your Foundation to disgrace:
Let Truth be banisht, ragged Vertue fly,
And poor unprofitable Honesty;
Weak Idols, who their wretched Slaves betray;
To every Rook, and every Knave a Prey:
These lie remote, and wide from Interest,
Farther than Heaven from Hell, or East from West,
Far, as they e're were distant from the breast.

Think not your selves t'Austerities confin'd,
Or those strict Rules, which other Orders bind,
To Capuchins, Carthusians, Cordeliers
Leave Penance, meager abstinence, and Prayers:
In lousie Rags let Begging Fryars lye,
Content on Straw, or Boards to mortifie:
Let them with Sackcloath discipline their Skins,
And scourge them for their madness, and their Sins:
Let pining Anchorets in Grotto's starve,
Who from the Liberties of Nature swerve:
Who make't their chief Religion not to eat,
And place't in nastiness, and want of Meat:
Live you in Luxury, and pamper'd Ease,
As if whole Nature were your Cateress.
Soft be your Beds, as those, which Monarch's Whores
Lye on, or Gouts of Bed-rid Emperors:
Your Wardrobes stor'd with choice of Suits, more dear
Than Cardinals on high Processions wear:
With Dainties load your Boards, whose every Dish
May tempt cloy'd Gluttons, or Vitellius Wish.
Each fit a longing Queen: let richest Wines
With Mirth your Heads inflame, with Lust your Veins:
Such as the Friends of dying Popes would give
For Cordials to prolong their gasping Life.

Ne're let the Nazarene, whose Badg, and Name
You wear, upbraid you with a Conscious Shame:
Leave him his slighted Homilies, and Rules,
To stuff the Squabbles of the wrangling Schools;
Disdain, that he, and the poor angling Tribe,
Should Laws, and Government to you prescribe:
Let none of those good Fools your Patterns make;
Instead of them, the mighty Judas take.
Renown'd Iscariot, fit alone to be
Th' Example of our great Society:
Whose daring Guilt despis'd the common Road,
And scorn'd to stoop at Sin beneath a God.

And now 'tis time I should Instructions give,
What Wiles, and Cheats the Rabble best deceive:
Each Age, and Sex, their diff'rent Passions wear,
To suit with which requires a prudent Care:
Youth is Capricious, Headstrong, Fickle, Vain,
Given to Lawless Pleasure, Age to gain:
Old Wives, in Superstition over-grown,
With Chimny Tales, and Stories best are won:
'Tis no mean Talent rightly to descry,
What several Baits to each you ought apply.
The Credulous, and easie of Belief,
With Miracles, and well-fram'd Lies deceive.
Empty whole Surius, and the Talmud: drain
Saint Francis, and Saint Mahomet's Alcoran:
Sooner shall Popes, and Cardinals want Pride,
Than you a Stock of Lies, and Legends need.

Tell how blest Virgin to come down was seen.
Like Play-House Punk descending in Machine:
How she writ Billets Doux, and Love-Discourse,
Made Assignations, Visits, and Amours:
How Hosts distrest, her Smock for Banner bore,
Which vanquish'd Foes, and murder'd at twelve Score.
Relate how Fish in Conventicles met,
And Mackrel were with Bait of Doctine caught:
How Cattel have Judicious Hearers been,
And Stones pathetically cry'd Amen:
How consecrated Hives with Bells was hung,
And Bees kept Mass, and Holy Anthems Sung:
How Pigs to th' Ros'ry kneel'd, and sheep were taught
To bleat Te Deum, and Magnificat:
How Fly-Flap of Church-Censure Houses rid
Of Insects, which at Curse of Fryer dy'd:
How travelling Saints, well mounted on a Switch,
Ride Journeys thro' the Air, like Lapland Witch:
And ferrying Cowls Religious Pilgrims bore
O're waves with the help of Sail, or Oar.
Nor let Xavier's great Wonders pass conceal'd,
How Storms were by th' Almighty Wafer quell'd;
How zealous Crab the sacred Image bore,
And swam a Cath'lick to the distant Shore
With Shams, like these, the giddy Rout mislead,
Their Folly, and their Superstition feed.

'Twas found a good, and gainful Art of Old
(And much it did our Church's Pow'r uphold)
To feign Hobgoblins, Elves, and walking Sprites,
And Fairies dancing Salenger a Nights:
White-Sheets for Ghosts, and Will-a-wisps have past
For Souls in Purgatory unreleast.
And Crabs in Church-Yard crawl'd in Masquerade,
To cheat the Parish, and have Masses said.
By this our Ancestors in happier Days,
Did store of Credit, and Advantage raise:
But now the Trade is fall'n, decay'd, and dead,
E're since Contagious Knowledg has o're-spread:
With Scorn the grinning Rabble now hear tell
Of Hecla, Patrick's hole, and Mongibel;
Believ'd no more, than Tales of Troy, unless
In Countries drown'd in Ignorance, like this.
Henceforth be wary how such things you feign,
Except it be beyond the Cape, or Line:
Except at Mexico, Brazile, Pegu,
At the Molucco's, Goa, or Pegu,
Or any distant, and Remoter Place,
Where they may currant, and unquestion'd pass:
Where never poching Hereticks resort,
To spring the Lye, and make't their Game, and Sport.

But I forget (what should be mention'd most)
Confession, our chief Priviledg, and Boast:
That Staple ware, which ne're returns in vain,
Ne're balks the Trader of expected Gain.
'Tis this, that spies through Court-intrigues, and brings
Admission to the Cabinets of Kings:
By this we keep proud Monarchs at our Becks,
And make our Foot-stools of their Thrones & Necks:
Give 'em Commands, and if they Disobey;
Betray them to th' Ambitious Heir a Prey:
Hound the Officious Curs on Hereticks,
The Vermin, which the Church infest, and vex:
And when our turn is serv'd, and Business done,
Dispatch 'em for reward, as useless grown:

Nor are these half the Benefits, and Gains,
Which by wise Manag'ry accrue from thence:
By this w'unlock the Miser's hoarded Chests,
And Treasure, though kept close, as States-mens Breasts:
This does rich Widows to our Nets decoy,
Let us their Jointures, and themselves enjoy:
To us the Merchant does his Customs bring,
And pays our Duty, tho he cheats his King:
To us Court-Ministers refund, made great
By Robbery, and Bankrupt of the State:
Ours is the Soldier's Plunder, Padder's Prize,
Gabels on Letch'ry, and the Stew's Excise:
By this our Colledges in Riches shine,
And vy with Becket's, and Loretto's Shrine.

And here I must not grudge a word or two
(My younger Vot'ries) of Advice to you:
To you, whom Beautie's Charms, and gen'rous Fire
Of boiling Youth to sports of Love inspire:
This is your Harvest, here secure, and cheap
You may the Fruits of unbought Pleasure reap:
Riot in free, and uncontroll'd delight,
Where no dull Marriage clogs the Appetite:
Tast every dish of Lust's variety,
Which Popes, and Scarlet Lechers dearly buy,
With Bribes, and Bishopricks, and Simony.
But this I ever to your care commend,
Be wary how you openly offend:
Lest scoffing lewd Buffoons descry our Shame,
And fix disgrace on the great Order's fame.

When the unguarded Maid alone repairs
To ease the burthens of her Sins, and Cares;
When youth in each, and privacy conspire
To kindle wishes, and befriend desire;
If she has practis'd in the Trade before:
(Few else of Proselytes to us brought o're)
Little of Force, or Artifice will need:
To make you in the Victory succeed:
But if some untaught Innocence she be,
Rude, and unknowing in the mystery;
She'll cost more labour to be made comply.
Make her by Pumping understand the sport,
And undermine with secret trains the Fort,
Sometimes as if you'd blame her gaudy dress,
Her Naked Pride, her Jewels, Point, and Lace;
Find opportunity her Breasts to press:
Oft feel her hand, and whisper in her ear,
You find the secret marks of lewdness there:
Sometimes with naughty sence her blushes raise,
And make 'em guilt, she never knew, confess;
‘Thus (may you say) with such a leering smile,
‘So Languishing a look your hearts beguile:
‘Thus with your foot, hand, eye, you tokens speak,
‘These Signs deny, these Assignations make:
‘Thus 'tis you clip, with such a fierce embrace
‘You clasp your Lover to your Breast, and Face:
‘Thus are your hungry lips with Kisses cloy'd,
‘Thus is your hand, & thus your tongue employ'd.

Ply her with talk with this: and, if sh' encline,
To help Devotion, give her Aretine
Instead o'th' Rosary: never despair,
She, that to such discourse will lend an Ear
Tho chaster than cold cloyster'd Nuns she were,
Will soon prove soft, and pliant to your use,
As Strumpets on the Carnaval let loose.
Credit experience; I have tri'd 'em all,
Aud never found th' unerring methods fail:
Not Ovid, tho 'twere his chief Mastery,
Had greater skill in these Intrigues, than I:
Nor Nero's learned Pimp, to whom we owe
What choice Records of Lust are extant now.
This heretofore, when youth, and sprightly Blood
Ran in my Veins, I tasted, and enjoy'd:
Ah those blest days,!—(here the old Lecher smil'd,
With sweet remembrance of past pleasures fill'd)
But they are gone! Wishes alone remain,
And Dreams of Joy, ne're to be felt again:
To abler Youth I now the Practice leave,
To whom this counsel, and advice I give.

But the dear mention of my gayer days
Has made me farther, than I would, digress:
'Tis time we should now in due Place expound,
How guilt is after shrift to be atton'd:
Enjoyn no sow'r Repentance, Tear, and Grief;
Eyes weep no cash, and you no profit give:
Sins, tho of the first rate, must punish'd be,
Not by their own, but th' Actor's Quality:
The Poor, whose Purse cannot the Penance bear,
Let whipping serve, bare feet, and shirts of hair:
The richer Fools to Compostella send,
To me Rome, Monferrat, or the Holy Land:
Pet Pardons, and the Indulgence-Office drain
Their Coffers, and enrich the Pope's with gain:
Make 'em build Churches, Monasteries found
And dear bought Masses for their crimes compound

Let Law, and Gospel, rigid precepts set,
And make the paths to Bliss rugged, and strait:
Teach you a smooth, an easier way to gain
Heav'ns joys, yet sweet, and useful sin retain:
With every frailty, every lust comply,
T'advance your Spiritual Realm, and Monarchy:
Pull up weak Vertue's fence, give scope and space
And Purliens to out-lying Consciences:
Shew that the Needle's eye may stretch, and how
The largest Camel-vices may go thro'.

Teach how the Priest Pluralities may buy,
Yet fear no odious Sin of Simony.
While Thoughts, and Ducats will directed be:
Let Whores adorn his exemplary life,
But no lewd heinous Wife a Scandal give.
Sooth up the Gaudy Atheist, who maintains
No Law, but Sense, and owns no God, but Chance.
Bid Thieves rob on, the Boisterous Ruffian tell,
He may for Hire, Revenge, or Honour kill:
Bid Strumpets persevere, absolve 'em too,
And take their dues in kind for what you do:
Exhort the painful, and industrious Bawd
To Diligence, and Labour in her Trade:
Nor think her innocent Vocation ill,
Whose incomes do's the sacred Treasure fill:
Let Griping Usurers Extortion use,
No Rapine, Falshood, Perjury refuse,
Stick at no Crime, which covetous Popes would scarce
Act to enrich themselves, and Bastard-Heirs:
A small Bequest to th' Church can all atttone,
Wipes off all scores, and Heav'n, and all's their own.
Be these your Doctrins, these the truths, you preach,
But no forbidden Bible come in reach:
Your Cheats, and Artifices to Impeach.
Lest thence Lay-Fools Pernitious knowledge get,
Throw off Obedience, and your Laws forget:
Make 'em believ't a spell, more dreadful far,
Than Bacon, Haly, or Albumazar.
Happy the time, when th' unpretending Crowd
No more, than I, its Language understood!
When the worm-eaten Book, link'd to a chain,
In dust lay mouldring in the Vatican;
Dispis'd, neglected, and forgot, to none,
But poring Rabbies, or the Sorbon known:
Then in full pow'r our Soveraign Prelate sway'd,
By Kings, and all the Rabble World Obey'd:
Here humble Monarch at his feet kneel'd down,
And beg'd the Alms, and Charity of a Crown:
There, when in Solemn State he pleas'd to ride,
Poor Scepter'd Slaves ran Henchboys by his side:
None, tho in thought, his grandeur durst Blaspheme,
Nor in their very sleep a Treason dream.

But since the broaching that mischievous Piece,
Each Alderman a Father Lumbard is:
And every Cit dares impudently know
More than a Council, Pope, and Conclave too.
Hence the late Damned Frier, and all the crew
Of former Crawling Sects their poison drew:
Hence all the Troubles, Plagues, Rebellions breed,
We've felt, or feel, or may hereafter dread:
Wherefore enjoyn, that no Lay-coxcomb dare
About him that unlawful Weapon wear;
But charge him chiefly not to touch at all
The dang'rous Works of that old Lollard, Paul;
That arrant Wickliffist, from whom our Foes
Take all their Batt'ries to attack our Cause;
Would he in his first years had Martyr'd been,
Never Damascus, nor the Vision seen;
Then he our Party was, stout, vigorous,
And fierce in chace of Hereticks, like us:
Till he at length, by th' Enemies seduc'd,
Forsook us, and the hostile side espous'd.

Had not the mighty Julian mist his aims,
These holy Shreds had all consum'd in flames:
But since th' Immortal Lumber still endures,
In spight of all his industry, and ours;
Take care at least it may not come abroad,
To taint with catching Heresie the Crowd:
Let them be still kept low in sence, they'l pay
The more respect, more readily obey.
Pray that kind Heav'n would on their hearts dispense
A bounteous, and abundant Ignorance,
That they may never swerve, nor turn awry
From sound, and Orthodox Stupidity.

But these are obvious things, easie to know,
Common to every Monk, as well as you:
Greater Affairs, and more important wait
To be discuss'd, and call for our debate:
Matters, that depth require, and well befit
Th' Address, and Conduct of a Jesuit.
How Kingdoms are embroil'd, what shakes a Throne,
How the first seeds of Discontent are sown
To spring up in Rebellion; how are set
The secret snares, that circumvent a State:
How bubled Monarchs are at first beguil'd,
Trepann'd, and gull'd, at last depos'd, and kill'd.

When some proud Prince, a Rebel to our Head,
For disbelieving Holy Church's Creed,
And Peter-pence, is Heretick decreed;
And by a solemn, and unquestion'd Pow'r
To Death, and Hell, and You delivr'd o're:
Chuse first some dext'rous Rogue, well tri'd, and known
(Such by Confession your Familiars grown)
Let him by Art, and Nature fitted be
For any great, and gallant Villany,
Practis'd in every Sin, each kind of Vice,
Which deepest Casuists in their searches miss,
Watchful as Jealousie, wary as Fear,
Fiercer than Lust, and bolder than Despair,
But close, as plotting Feinds in Council are.
To him, in firmest Oaths of Silence bound,
The worth, and merit of the Deed propound:
Tell of whole Reams of Pardon, new come o're,
Indies of Gold, and Blessings, endless store:
Choice of Preferments, if he overcome,
And if he fail, undoubted Maryrdom:
And Bills for Sums in Heav'n, to be drawn
On Factors there, and at first sight paid down
With Arts, and Promises, like these, allure,
And make him to your great design secure.

And here to know the sundry ways to kill,
Is worth the Genius of a Machiavel:
Cull Northern Brains, in these deep Arts unbred,
Know nought but to cut Throats, or knock o'th' Head,
No slight of Murder of the subt'lest shape,
Your busie search, and observation scape:
Legerdemain of Killing, that dives in,
And Juggling steals away a Life unseen:
How gawdy Fate may be in Presents sent,
And creep insensibly by Touch, or Scent:
How Ribbands, Gloves, or Saddle-Pomel may
An unperceiv'd, but certain Death convey;
Above the reach of Antidotes, above the Pow'r
Of the fam'd Pontick Mountebank to cure.
What e're is known to quaint Italian spite,
In studied Pois'ning skill'd, and exquisite:
What e're great Borgia, or his Sire could boast,
Which the Expence of half the Conclave cost.

Thus may the business be in secret done,
Nor Authors, nor the Accessaries known,
And the slurr'd guilt with ease on others thrown.
But if ill Fortune should your Plot betray,
And leave you to the rage of Foes a prey;
Let none his Crime by weak confession own,
Nor shame the Church, while he'd himself attone.
Let varnish'd Guile, and feign'd Hypocrisies,
Pretended Holiness, and useful Lies,
Your well-dissembled Villany disguise.
A thousand wily Turns, and Doubles try,
To foil the Scent, and to divert the Cry:
Cog, sham, out face, deny, equivocate,
Into a thousand shapes your selves translate:
Remember what the crafty Spartan taught,
Children with Rattles, Men with Oaths are caught:
Forswear upon the Rack, and if you fall,
Let this great comfort make amends for all,
Those, whom they damn for Rogues, next Age shall see
Made Advocates i'th' Church's Litany.
Who ever with bold Tongue, or Pen shall dare
Against your Arts, and Practices declare;
What Fool shall e're presumptuously oppose,
Your Holy Cheats, and godly Frauds disclose;
Pronounce him Heretick, Firebrand of Hell,
Turk, Jew, Fiend, Miscreant, Pagan, Infidel;
A thousand blacker Names, worse Calumnies,
All, Wit can think, and pregnant Spite devise:
Strike home, gash deep, no Lies, nor Slanders spare;
A Wound, though cur'd, yet leaves behind a Scar.

Those, whom your Wit, and Reason can't decry,
Make scandalous with Loads of Infamy:
Make Luther Monster, by a Fiend begot,
Brought forth with Wings, and Tail, and Cloven Foot:
Make Whoredom, Incest, worst of vice, and shame,
Pollute, and foul his Manners, Life, and Name.
Tell how strange Storms usher'd his fatal end,
And Hell's black Troops did for his Soul contend.

Much more I had to say; but now grown faint,
And strength, and Spirits for the Subject want:
Be these great Mysteries, I here unfold,
Amongst your Order's Institutes enroll'd:
Preserve them sacred, close and unreveal'd;
As ancient Rome her Sybil's Books conceal'd.
Let no bold Heretick with sawcy eye
Into the hidden unseen Archives pry;
Lest the malicious flouting Rascals turn
Our Church to Laughter, Raillery, and Scorn.
Let never Rack, or Torture, Pain, or Fear,
From your firm Breasts th' important Secrets tear.
If any treach'rous Brother of your own
Shall to th' World divulge, & make them known,
Let him by worst of Deaths his Guilt attone.
Should but his Thoughts, or Dreams suspected be,
Let him for safety, and prevention die,
And learn i'th' Grave the Art of Secresie.

But one thing more, and then with joy I go,
Nor as a longer stay of Fate below:
Give me again once more your plighted Faith,
And let each seal it with his dying breath:
As the great Carthaginian heretofore
The bloody reeking Altar touch'd, and swore
Eternal Enmity to th' Roman Pow'r:
Swear you (and let the Fates confirm the same)
An endless Hatred to the Luth'ran Name:
Vow never to admit, or League, or Peace,
Or Truce, or Commerse with the cursed Race:
Now, through all Age, when Time, or Place soe're
Shall give you pow'r, wage an immortal War:
Like Theban Feuds, let yours your selves survive,
And in your very Dust, and Ashes live.
Like mine, be your last Gasp their Curse.—At this
They kneel, and all the Sacred Volumn kiss;
Vowing to send each year an Hecatomb
Of Huguenots, an Off'ring to his Tomb.

In vain he would continue;—Abrupt Death
A Period puts, and stops his impious Breath:
In broken Accents he is scarce allow'd
To faulter out his Blessing on the Crowd,
Amen is eccho'd by Infernal Howl,
And scrambling Spirits seize his parting Soul.