University of Virginia Library

Here next to be arraign'd a Monster stands,
Worse than the Giant with the hundred hands
Stay you that seeke or love the peace of man,
And I'le describe his nature if I can.
This is the same that we doe call Ambition,
The principallest stirrer of sedition.
'Tis a proud humour which doth ever search
The stout-high-minded, and attempts to pearch
In men of spirit. It doth farre surmount
The force of Love and makes but small account
Of Nature or Religion. Tis not law,
Nor Conscience that can keepe this fiend in awe.

It is supposed that it hath no bound;
For never was there limit in it found.
And such are these in whom it overswaies,
No strength of reason there aspiring staies.
Till like the fire whose fuell quite is spent,
They flash and die for want of nourishment.
There's no estate contents them; peace and strife
Are both alike to them: yea death and life,
Wives, children, friends, no, none but such as may
Be unto their Ambitious plots a stay
Shall be respected, and so they may reape
What they desire they will not stick to heape
Murther on murthers: yea, and think't no sinne,
Be it of strangers or their nearest kinne:
They have such flinty-breasts they can out-beard
Danger it selfe and be no whit afeard.

Yea, (maugre all their daring) just Confusion
Of such proud spirits proves the said Conclusion.
And he that first was ruin'd by this evill,
Was he that first was guilty of't, the Devill:
Who did aspire so high that higher Powers
Wrought his just fall, and now he seeketh ours.
Ev'n he first shed this ill into our breasts,
Thereby to hinder and disturbe our rests.

This most unreasonable, strong desire,
And too exccessive longing to aspire
To honour and promotion (which indeed
Doth from a sottish, ignorance proceed)
Is both a wilde and a disordred Passion,
And a great enemy to Contentation.
For whatsoever state man hath attain'd.
'Tis e'en as if that he had nothing gain'd;
Sith he thereby hath still a farther scope,
And never reaches to the end of's hope.
That which he doth possesse he nought respecteth,
But altogether things unknowne affecteth,
And counts them best; which whatsoever they seem'd
Being once gotten too, are not esteemd.

Now, what's the reason that they doe abhor
The things possest that they have labour'd for?
What may the cause be that they doe contemne
(Or cannot use things) having gained them?
Sure hence it is; They doe not truly know
What the things are that they doe long for so,
And they obtaine them oft, ere they have might
Or knowledge how to governe them aright.

Had many of our reaching Yeomanry,
That have grown wealthy through good husbandry,
(And some of our proud Gentry that have sought
Titles and undeserved Honours bought)
But knowne before hand what disgracefull shame
And beggery would follow on the same,
In knowing not, to what they did aspire;
Those Dignities had yet beene to desire:
And so indeed they might have walkt the street,
And not have fear'd the Counters nor the Fleet;
Or might with Good-man have contented bin,
Where now there's scarce a good man of the kin.
Ambitious men will ever envious be,
Regarding neither love nor amity;
And though that they may make a goodly show,
With reason it can never stand I know
They should be faithfull or with justice deale,
Either for Prince or Friend or Common-weale.
For why? this humour makes them to attend,
Yea all their labours, and best counsell spend
In their owne plots: and so they have no losse,
They care not whose proceedings they doe crosse.

Vertuous endeavours this doth also let;
Yea, makes men many a good thing to forget.
And though I'me loth to speake it, I protest
I thinke it raignes not in the Clergie least.
For you at first great humblenesse shall see,
While their estates and fortunes meaner be.
They are industrious and take pains to teach,
And twice a week shall be the least they'l preach:
Or in their poverty they will not stick
For Catechising, visiting the sick,
With such like sacred works of piety
As do belong to that fraternity.
But if they once atchieve a Vicarage,
Or be inducted to some Parsonage,
Men must content themselves, and think it well
If once a Month they heare the Sermon-bell.
And if to any higher place they reach,
Once in a twelve-month is enough to preach.

Alas! we must consider that Devotion
Is but a busie thing that lets Promotion;
And if that they should give their mindes to't all,
Who should have greater places when they fall?
No, no, 'twere fitter they their ease did take,
And see what friends and Patrons they can make
For the next Bishoprick; or study how
To humour and to please the Great-ones now:
And if they can in that adventure speed,
They'l be more painfull. Yes; 'tis like indeed,
If in their climing they so high can wex,
To gain the title of a Pontifex,
'Tis very like (perhaps) that we shall heare,
They use the pulpit once or twice a yeare.
Nay, it is well if it be done so oft.
For this Ambition beares men so aloft,
They from performance of their duties slide.
But of all others this same Clergie-pride
I hold not onely to be odious
To God and men, but most pernicious
To Prince, to Church, and to the Common-good.
Witnesse the Beast of Rome, and his foule brood
Of climing Cardinals; who from base states
Are gotten to be Kings and Princes mates;
Yea, their Superiors too; and all by this,
A painted show of Humble holinesse.
Even this is it of which the divell makes
That cruell engine wherewithall he shakes
Religions soundnesse: and rends in it chinks,
Which he dawbes up againe, with what he thinks
Shall ruine all in time. And is't not hence
He had his meanes to marre the innocence
Of Romes first Bishops? godlinesse grew strong;
And flourisht while it was supprest with wrong.
But when the worthy Emperours embrac'd
The Sacred truth, and with their favours grac'd
Their good proceedings, they soone gan to leave
Their humble nature off, and closely weave
Vnto religious shewes (not a bare Miter,
It fits not the successors of Saint Peter)
A triple Diadem and such a state,
As never any earthly Potentate
Enjoi'd a greater (all with humble Preaching)
A long degree I tak't, beyond the reaching
Of temporall Ambition, Heav'n I pray,
Ere the first beast his time be done away,
There rise not up another Monster here
'Mongst our ambitious Churchmen I should feare
A second Antichrist, but that I hope
They either shall be kept within their scope;
Or the last judgement whose nigh time unknowne
Shall cut him off ere he be wholy growne.

Thus much some reason makes me bold to speake,
And there is no mans sight I thinke so weake,
But sees the same. Which though (I know full well)
Twould better others fit than me to tell;
Sith all neglect it, I have thus begun
To Satyrize and o'er their follies run.

Yet by my former words let none suppose,
That I th' opinion do maintaine of those
That doe our Bishops disallow,
Let them that can; for sure I know not how.
Nor would I have the world to understand
That I tax all the Clergey in the Land,
Or the whole Hierarchy: Thinke not so;
For why? this presently Age doth yeeld I know
Men that are truely worthy: and so many,
That I beleeve few times (since Christ) had any
More knowing or more painefull than some few.

And whatsoe'er men thinke, yet here to shew,
Though I Satyrically carpe at those
That follow Vice and are true Vertues foes;
I have not such a spitefull cankerd spirit,
As to conceale or smother Worth and Merit.
For I'l in Canturburies praise be bold
This on my owne experience to uphold,
The Sea was never governed as yet,
By any one more rev'rend or more fit.
For over and above his Country cares,
Wherein he neither time nor counsell spares;
Besides Church-businesse, whereto he applies
His minde to further it, what in him lies,
Besides all this his publike care at large,
Few Ministers have in their private charge
Tooke greater paine. That now the truth I tell,
London and Lambeth both can witnesse well.
And thou unhappy wert O London, then,
When thou didst lose this rare one amongst men:
Yet thou wert blest againe thy fate did bring
In place of such a Father, such a King;
So vigilent a watch-man in his place,
That were it not my purpose here to trace
The worlds mad humors, I from these had matter
To make a Panegyrick of a Satyr.
Yet is my Muse so constant in her frowne,
Shee shall not sooth a King for halfe his Crowne
Nor would slie thus much here have sung their praise
Had she not thought them to be what she saies.

But peradventure some will now condemne
This my particular commending them.
As if my setting of their vertues forth,
Would be detraction from anothers worth.
Which cannot be. For as this addes no more
Vnto that reall worth these had before:
So neither can I lessen, blot nor smother
The good that is apparant in another.
Nor doe I wish it should for might I here
Stand to make bead-rols of who worthy were,
I could adde divers that may claime this day
As much to be extold by me, as they.

Here I could name some other of their place
That cannot basely fawne to winne them grace:
Nor pick a Thank by seeking to condemne
Those that are not in place to answer them.
I know there's some who seeke the Churches good,
And never at their Princes elbow stood
With their lowd whisperings to stop his eare,
Lest he should what did more concerne him here.
I know there's such, and they will praised be,
Though never knowne, not mentioned by m.

But let this passe; whilst I so busie am
About the Clergie, some are much to blame.
The Court is factious growne through the desire
Tha every one hath gotten to aspire.
None doe esteeme their owne, but by compare:
All would be somewhat more than others are.
Yet he that's greatst, 'mong those that greatest seeme
Is only great in other mens esteeme.
And therefore sure hee's vaine who for such winde
Can feed a restlesse humour in his minde,
That's so unprofitable as at best
It makes him onely in appearance blest.
But when I weigh it, then I wonder much;
Mans love unto this Passion should be such,
As without understanding to let lie
A reall good for an uncertainty.

Those I have seene that have had riches store,
Great Offices, and favours no men more;
Honour and credit, yea and wisdome too:
But (loe what an ambitious head will doe)
Climing too hie, they got so low a fall,
They forfeited their honours lives and all.
Me thinks ere they in such an act should stur,
'Twere not amisse to thinke on Æsops Cur,
Who catching but to get a shaddow more,
Did lose the substance which he had before.

I might a while upon examples stand
Of former times; but that within this Land,
The present Age which I will onely view,
Can yeeld enough to prove my sayings true
And here, of many in this Kingdome showne,
I at this present will remember one;
And that shall be the late Ambitious plot,
The like whereof the world sure yeeldeth not;
I meane the Powder-treason, an Invention,
Brought (had not God assisted) past prevention.
And yet, ere they could clime to their desire,
Ev'n when they were to mount but one step higher.
(Let God be honour'd for't) downe tumbled all,
And gave these Monsters a deserved fall.

Which blest deliverance, if no happier song
Tune in our too-forgetfull eares ere long
(If heaven assist my purpose and the Times
Be but auspicious to my homely Rimes)
I meane to sing thereof, that after daies,
Seeing Gods love to us, may tell his praise;
And in such colours paint that hellish plot,
It shall not for some Ages be forgot:
But unto men unborne a Treason show
More vile than ever any Age did know.
And let them see that Ruine and Perdition
Are the last periods to conclude Ambition,
But to that purpose I may labour spend,
And peradventure all to little end:
Men will not thinke thereon, but still we see
So lofty minded in their actions be,
And with such thirst of titles have they sought them,
As at deere rates they many times have bought them.

Some have ambitious heads, but cannot rise,
Because the want of meanes and friends denies
What they aspire unto: whereat they vex,
And their unquiet soules oft times perplex
Beyond all reason. Oh strange humor'd men!
Leave off this folly and grow wise agen.
Be with your states content: for who doth know
If his desire be for his good or no?
Yea sure, one thinks; if I could but attaine
Such offices; or so much wealth to gaine
As this or that man hath, my wish were ended
And such or such a fault should be amended.
With that thou hast not yet how dost thou know
Whether thou canst be well content or no?
I tell thee this, though thou maist thinke it strange,
With the estate tht minde doth also change:
And when in one thing thou hast thy desire,
Thou wilt not stay there but mount som what higher
And higher still, untill thou dost attaine
Vnto the top, or tumble downe againe.

Be wary then you that ambitious are,
And to restraine this madnesse have a care:
Else at the last 'twill certainely deceive you:
But you must have your wils, to which I leave you.