 | The Fanatick Indulgence |  |
TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNES JAMES Duke of ALBANIE.
Great Sir, this Poem still conceal'd have I,Till time hath Christn'd it a Prophesy.
Indulgence now unmasked, strives to tryst
With John of Leyden against Antichrist.
This is the Trojan Horse, wherein there lies
Catsbie and Vaulx, with new conspiracies.
This the Shaftburian Crockodil his blind
To lure Scotes Rogues to English commons mind;
Nor is this twattling fame, but sure as death,
Witness where Welsh resign'd his latest breath.
This Meteor impregnated the air
With some to usurp the throne, and sacred chair
With a new faith, but not without its works:
Yet such as more be seemeth Jews and Turks.
But now wee'r fallen in that dismall time,
Wherein to utter truth's an hainous crime.
When squinteyed slander, and hypocrisy,
In triumph bear away the verdant bay.
Protect me then, the galled Brother-hood
Smart censures will reject, thô wise and good;
Being swell'd with that same furie, which before:
Noll is reviv'd, his Ghost drinks our ill health,
And we must once more try a common wealth,
No more Succession, rather be't our fate
To truckle under illegitimate.
And then in our career, each friend, or foe,
Just as we please, wee'l call, or make him so.
And like an hurrying flood wee'l still increass,
And swell our channel, as we mend our pace.
Wee'l scorn Hobs Leviathan, whill we play
Our selves i'th Ocean of Stern Tyrranny.
Begon Religion, and be buried Law,
Brittain must once more turn Aceldama.
But oft omnipotency lurkes, untill
The Creaturs Pollicy, and prowess fail;
And GOD will Joseph press, and gall, and wring,
E're he advance him second to the King.
And hath decreed this lot for every man,
To pass the red Sea e're he taste Canaan.
We see the Soveraign, and imperial State
Is not exempted from the common fate,
Nay Heavens impartial, and resistless brow
Frowns oftner on the Scepter then the plough:
When he securely whistles to his teem,
The other fears a tottring diadem.
All my desire, Great Sir, is that I may
Live like an Atome in the radiant Ray
Of your life-giving heat, and glorious light,
Whose crisping spires may make me warm and bright.
Princes ar Prophets Guardians, ye know,
Jacobus Rex was, Aris excubo.
Was King of Poets, and the Poëts King.
And this emblazons most a Prince renown,
When he with Muses Laurel Crowns his Crown.
Poets and Prophets both inspir'd of GOD,
Were Kings Companions, till our late Bownd rode:
Where Reason and Religion did invade
A Frantick passion, and prevailing made
That giddie furie, that awaits the power
Of thy more sacred charming Hellebore.
And be't thy fate, for to suppress this flamm,
And be true Majestie thy Anagram;
Which for thy Anagram may justly passe,
As wanting the dull omen of the A.S.
And spite of envy may thy glory be
Confin'd to nothing but eternity.
1
THE FANATICK INDULGENCE.
To the KING.
I.
Indulgence! thunder-clap! Medusa's head:Which makes us all like stones, dumb, stupified.
And with amazement confidently vow,
The British isle it is grown Africk now.
Its Crete, its Crete, this Island, and at length
Indulgence tells us what's the Labyrinth;
Not in one Town, but all the Nation o're
Ten thousand sold to feed the Minotaure.
And which would make an heart of flint to bleed,
No hope appears of Ariadne's threed.
Wee are in Monsters sertil; after this
Impossible? incredible what is?
2
Transcends his hopes, or can his wish defeat?
When wee thy Loyal Subjects looked for
Some Halcyonian dayes, the Tempests Roar:
And to our eyes on every rising wave,
Death sits in Triumph, and presents a grave,
And in the mid'st of our dispaires, and fears,
Tears drowns our sighs, and sighs dries up our tears.
Wee are like Job's these ninteen years perplext,
Betwixt distractions, and destructions vext.
And that (dread Sir) thô not so strange, as true,
By Scabbs, and Devils now Indulg'd by you.
2.
Indulgence! Mercy Lord! from whence? to whom?From CHARLES; Nay: to ripp his mothers womb
As Nero did, I'le nee'r belive't; like this
Ovid hath no such Metamorphosis.
CHARLES both merciful and wise, to Act
The much deplored Athamas mistake,
To murder his own Children, and to spare
The loathsome vermin the whole body tare.
To set three Kingdoms all again in flamm,
And throw poor Meleager in the same,
To please some mad Altheas: Acts like those,
May frett thy friends, not satisfie thy foes.
To lay the tittle, Faith's Defender, down,
The richest Jewel of thy radiant Crown.
Strike Loyalty, Law, and Religion dumb,
To please a fullsome, nastie, hairbraind scum,
A furious spawn of fiends, by whom alone
The devil doth blush to see himself outdone.
3
Hes no more brains, then sillie butter-flies;
And yet can act such bloody monstrous crimes,
Not writ in Registers of former times.
Rebellion, murder, sacriledg, a fault
Complext, not to be purg'd with fire, nor salt!
These to indulge, is Scepter to resign,
And let the bramble King it o'r the vine.
O boundless mercy! Heaven and Hell here lyes,
In strange (how?) reconcil'd antipathies.
Base unrelenting fate could thou not spare
Good Major Weir till now to have got a share.
Unhappy Mitchel had thou liv'd so long,
Thou had escaped in this damned throng,
And had been sentenc'd at the Council Table,
The innocentest traitour of the Rabble.
III.
Indulgence in the Hebrew Hamal is,Yet Hamilton swears this is none of his
Projecting, or procuring, or desire;
His grace would never kindle such a fire.
The other great, and mighty Duke, he vowes
It came from Hell for any thing he knowes.
The Legat, men suspected most, he sayes,
He acted but as stickes in puppet playes;
He acted being acted, this was all
His influence on its original.
Avant then snake unto these dismall deeps,
Where every thing but damned sorrow sleeps.
4
IIII.
Indulgence is Cains mark, or such another;No man may kill him that hath kill'd his Brother.
And herein Cain was Scot: the Duke like God,
Who sent the Traitour to the Land of Nod;
And yet confind him home to this his Nation;
A Land of fugitives and trepidation,
A Land wherein disgrace, and loud toung'd shame,
Hath split the Trumpet of our former Fame,
Either for Armes or Artes. Your Huskoes yield,
Ye Sons of Mars its cowards gains the field,
These only now the Acts of grace commands,
Because no Widow curst their swords, nor hands.
An Apple cleft in two is not more twin,
Then their Religion and their fights have been;
Whose chiefest properties lyes in their voice,
Like shearing of a sow, no wool but noise:
For when with Covenants they brag the starrs,
Unto their heels they do commend ther warrs.
Just as the forced air below, doth fall
In noise and loathsom stink, and there is all.
They are no witches, tho their exercise
Are parallels, murders and Tragedies.
They'r alwayes grumbling, cruel, furious,
Ill looking, spiteful, and malitious,
Blood-thristy Tigers, never pleas'd but when
They swill like Leeches in the blood of men.
Their Baptism they renounce, or do as much;
They need no Devils each of them is such:
For being baptized to the Trinitie,
They dare sit mute to the doxologie.
They dare not sing, what they dare say, like those
5
They to their souls in consciencious care
Preferr their babling to our Saviours prayer.
And take their grounds of fighting from the word,
Because our Saviour said put up thy sword.
Just like that wylie Jesuits mistake.
That of Saint Peter did salt Peter make.
They say a Bishops office is for a Turk,
Because Saint Paul did call it a good work.
It brings damnation for to resist,
Saint Paul did say, they say its the cause of Christ.
Strange Estredg consciences that quick devours
Great Camel-truths, fir'd with gnat-Metaphors.
Be subject all for conscience sake; these Heroes
Can swallow that, and fight at curse ye Meroz.
But as of faith, and manhood, they are ousted,
Their learning too it mightily is doubted;
Their Logick's out of date, for they do know
No Syllogisme, but in Ferio.
And when their courage with their powder's spent,
Indulgence closeth all in Celarent.
They'r puddle-rithmers too, they dare we see
Discharge their bumbast at our Poësie.
And its reported that they largely share
In glistring Guinies, for their Paltrie ware.
The famine in Samaria we see
Makes slimie sordid doves dung sell so hie,
They gave (in ghuest accompt) when wanting bread,
Near ten pound Sterling for an Asses head.
(Had all our whiggs been there, from rear to van,
They had happ't headless every mortal man)
6
Is onely given to the thick brained crew.
Empiricks let alone, your market fall's,
The Revenues of Close-stools and Urinals.
We need no potions to our paunch, nor purse;
Traitours indulg'd, will gratis murder us.
Close up the Muses Courts, the Colleges,
A living vatican, each Fanatick is.
Baronius and Bellarmin ingrost,
Their first two syllables in his brains have lost.
Our Musickes all in discords: acts of grace
Hath highest trebl's joyn'd with lowest base.
We croak like Ravens, and we screech like Rats,
And for one Sharp we have ten thousand flats.
Our notes so dissonant will nee'r agree
In Church, nor State, to make an Harmonie.
Our Kirk's a new Benjotral, which we call
Nor Presbiterian, nor Episcopal.
All tend to the old chaos, our very Laws
Are all ingulphed in the good old cause.
No wonder, Traitours make monopoly
Of the embalmed Name of honesty;
And will admit no honest man but him,
Dare call a Bishop Antichristian limm:
No honest man if not of their opinion,
Altho he were almighties dearest minion.
Saint Paul himself they scorn to call him Saint,
Because he never took their Covenant.
Yea from fool-hatred of the Organs they
Made poor bagpypes sing dumb, and out of play.
7
V.
Indulgences ar Popish things, then whyShould they be fancied by such Saints as they?
Since their foundation fails them; for its known
That neither Saints, nor merits they can own.
And too, for which I verily am sorie,
They are not yet come to their Purgatorie.
Besides Indulgences they have no place,
If men be not into the state of grace,
And they the very name of grace think vile,
Because it somtimes is a Bishops stile.
But now the case is stated amongst all,
Treason indulg'd makes all sins venial.
May not the Papist say what need of Rome
For Pardons now, since Charles is Pope at home.
Had Luthers minde run parallel with his,
No strife had been about Indulgences.
Martin had still been Monk, nor had he yet
In genial sheet protested with his Kate.
But yet to Pardon those, by Pardons worse,
Is Heavens dite vengeance, and Earths heavy curse.
Saw ye an Ape, that a purgation took,
Before these news so did our Whigmares look.
Now like a Passenger that scapt a grave
In the sweld womb of an impostum'd wave;
They knock the Starrs with their advanced head,
As Phaeton when he the reins did guid.
With that same success too, the world they'l fire,
By guiding ill, what they did ill desire.
For they repent not what they late have done,
Vowing the second part of that same tune.
8
A well payed spring ought to be played again.
If ancient Sages saws with you have credite,
To spare a vice, it is the way to spread it.
Tame mercie is the breast that suckls vice,
Till hydra like her heads she multiplies.
In sparing thieves and murderers, all see,
A privat favour's publicque injurie.
Should pitie spare, and let the gangren spread,
Until the bodies wholly putrified?
What Surgeon would do this, but he that's mad?
He's cruel to the good who spares the bad.
Cause feed them fatt, and give them flesh and wine,
Bring in a water pipe to wash the Swine.
Cause light the Western lamp, which when it died,
Was ay with fire and sacrifice supplied
Give them a power rebellions trump to blow,
In that same breath forbid them to do so.
Give them all Kirkes, reward them for their flight,
Encourage them to such another fight.
When all is done, let the whole world view,
They only hold Kirk Government of you.
O Power (il'e not blaspheme) beyond divine,
To make meer contradictions so combine;
Things so discordant meekly to agree,
The Presbiterians and Monarchie.
The Covenant, and the alledgeance oath,
Bear-chass and butter, makes a choaking broath.
No longer then, this Prophesie is hid,
The Leopard must lie down with the kid.
Then wheel about, and as at first ye were,
9
Auspicious peace clapps her triumphant wings,
Betwixt the Presbiterians Cause and Kings.
That valiant heel runs from it self at last,
That lately ran from Bothwel-bridge so fast.
Yet who should challenge those the King will cocker
Stay, stay, & then take up that ewe and yoak her.
A companie of bloody mutineers,
Who alwayes set both Church and State by th'ears.
The Planets, if we trust the Astrologer,
At their wretcht birth were all irregular;
A tribe that would that learned Greek compel
To bring Metempsychosis too from hell.
Changing like weather Cocks, still at the flight
Like Metra daughter to the hungrie wight.
Still skittish finding fault with that, with this,
Making the Bible Metamorphosis.
The Hieroglyphicks of all ill; no less
Then the perfection of all wickedness.
For if uncleanness, lyes, and murders be
The Devils markes, they're Devils more then he.
Sleep Pluto, sleep, thou has no more to do,
Wher's one of those ther's hell and Legion too.
All coxcomb, motly clowns, yet could invent
A way to Heaven called Kirk Government.
Where Major Wier, who galls their memories,
Is now call'd Maximus, and bears the keyes.
They'r Dan and Bethels Calfs, yet whom before
Ladyes not on their face prostrate adore.
These she-Fanaticks worst of Papists be
10
Yet since Sharp's slain, Justice may fall asleep,
And her revengful sword in scabbard keep,
And it may be Astrea's gainful trade,
To use her ballance now, more then her blade.
Or since correction makes the rabble worse,
Its gallantrie to let them take their course.
So Lybian Lyons in ther high wrought rage
With Bulls and Panthers only will engage.
While the dull snail, and painted butterflie
Glides through the Air, or craw'ls securely by.
We fear not then the Caledonian Boar,
As the Tangier his wanscot faced Moor.
For such Indulgence, were he nee'r so wild,
Would make a Tyger, or a Panther mild.
How many have severe proceedings ended?
Whom such indulgence might perhaps amended.
If Jove dart thunder still when men revolt
He quickly would not leave himself a bolt.
VI.
Indulgence, if an Act of Pollicie,Its deep as hell, or as the heavens it's hie.
To gather altogither in a train,
And Jehu and Baals Priests to Act again.
Or else it's like to Jesus who did call
From Heaven, and pardoned a slaughtering Saul.
Amen, good Lord; but let us never see,
Our King accurst for letting Syria free.
Me thinks, I saw our trembling Kirk for life,
Panting like Isaack underneath the knife:
11
Let not these ramms caught in the thickets go.
But since its done, Heavens pardon all offence
In pities, or in Policies pretence;
Yet we thought Policy should taught you rather,
To Indulge them as they indulg'd your Father:
Or, as he did, we fear, too late yee'l see,
There are extreams of gracious Clemencie.
Since none may say what doest thou, I take leave,
Indulgeo seldom hes the accusative.
Mollis illa educatio quam indulgentiam vocamus, nervos omnes, & mentis, &corporis frangit. Quintilianus.
Nimia principum clementiorum lenitas, innumer a mala, Cædes, Latrocinia, in ipsorum ditionibus gignit, adeo principum Indulgentia, quàm inclementia publicè nocentior est.
Machiavellus de Principe, cap. 17.
O Cruel, and wicked Indulgence, that is now found guilty of the death, not only of the Priests & People, but of Religion! Unjust mercy can never end in less then blood; and it were well, if only the body should have cause to complain of that kind cruelty.
Halls-works first vol. lib. II. pag. 967.
In Mr. Ninian Paterson his Book of Epigrams, Lib. 3. Epi. 4. The Ghost of King Charles the First, is brought in,
12
Englished thus,
Nor crimes, nor success of the rebell crue,
Nor yet Heaven vengeance, nor earths curse me slew,
Valor nor wiles, Hells craft, nor rage annoy'd,
Me my Indulgence, and my faith destroy'd.
Art thou a pious Prince, learn this of me,
Kindness to rebels is impietie.
Nor yet Heaven vengeance, nor earths curse me slew,
Valor nor wiles, Hells craft, nor rage annoy'd,
Me my Indulgence, and my faith destroy'd.
Art thou a pious Prince, learn this of me,
Kindness to rebels is impietie.
A welcome to his Royal Highness JAMES Duke of Albanie, to the Kingdom of Scotland.
Novr. 24. 1679.
Now, now, I know what made the Eolian slave
Stern Northern Boreas lately so outbrave
Our hosts of mists and clouds, and sweep the sky
With his swell'd cheeks; to brush a canopy
For Justice Princely Stuard; that none may know
Tempests above, or murmurs here below.
Stern Northern Boreas lately so outbrave
Our hosts of mists and clouds, and sweep the sky
With his swell'd cheeks; to brush a canopy
For Justice Princely Stuard; that none may know
Tempests above, or murmurs here below.
Welcome Great Sir, welcome as was the light
To Chaos after an eternal night:
For in this distance from our Charles his wayn,
Only lights elder Brother here did raign.
We were so dark, and in so great a thrall,
Egypt might well boast our Original.
And Lesly make less-ly, who sayes we came
From Scota Pharohs Daughter; whence our name.
And make Buchanans Ghost for to recall
Both our Jus Regni, and Original.
To Chaos after an eternal night:
For in this distance from our Charles his wayn,
Only lights elder Brother here did raign.
We were so dark, and in so great a thrall,
Egypt might well boast our Original.
And Lesly make less-ly, who sayes we came
From Scota Pharohs Daughter; whence our name.
And make Buchanans Ghost for to recall
Both our Jus Regni, and Original.
Shine then upon our poor Cimmerian clime,
Make this our first of moneths, of years, of time;
All annals eternize this happy day,
Let it be Rubrick and an Epochee
To all succeeding generations: Since
The Blest Arrival of that Noble Prince.
Let old men blesse their fates, that made them last
Till now, and young men, that they made such haste:
For all dayes untill this, had lost their Names
In golden number, since our late King James.
Heavens grant our Scotland once more the renown,
To bring him surth shall wear the British Crown.
And since it's thought good fortune Lacqueys names,
Let him be Rex Pacificus, A James.
That so this Isle the worlds Epitomee
(Neptuns inclosure) once more Gods may be.
Make this our first of moneths, of years, of time;
All annals eternize this happy day,
13
To all succeeding generations: Since
The Blest Arrival of that Noble Prince.
Let old men blesse their fates, that made them last
Till now, and young men, that they made such haste:
For all dayes untill this, had lost their Names
In golden number, since our late King James.
Heavens grant our Scotland once more the renown,
To bring him surth shall wear the British Crown.
And since it's thought good fortune Lacqueys names,
Let him be Rex Pacificus, A James.
That so this Isle the worlds Epitomee
(Neptuns inclosure) once more Gods may be.
Yee'r welcome then Great Sir, to put a date
To the tempestuous tumults of our state,
Whose boiling billows to that hight did rise,
Like Gyants, to wage warr against the skies.
Ambitious is that raging foaming main
Once more to exalt it self o're Charles his wain.
But all in vain, Heavens will all storms defeat,
Where Charles is Pilot, & Great James his mate,
Be our physician, all our fears appease,
Calm Church distractions, and cure states disease,
And crush them (Sir) for they are your worst friends,
Who turns their publick power to private ends.
Ambitious Phaetons may they have place,
Will gladly sacrifice their Countries peace.
To the tempestuous tumults of our state,
Whose boiling billows to that hight did rise,
Like Gyants, to wage warr against the skies.
Ambitious is that raging foaming main
Once more to exalt it self o're Charles his wain.
But all in vain, Heavens will all storms defeat,
Where Charles is Pilot, & Great James his mate,
Be our physician, all our fears appease,
Calm Church distractions, and cure states disease,
And crush them (Sir) for they are your worst friends,
Who turns their publick power to private ends.
Ambitious Phaetons may they have place,
Will gladly sacrifice their Countries peace.
Ye will see Royal sparkes amongst our smoak,
Wee'l be your Ivi, if yee'l be our oak;
And faithfully we promise for our parts,
Tho we cannot give Crowns, we will give hearts.
Let English be more fortunate throughout,
Bate us that ace, we Scots are still as stout.
Nor power, nor honour is confin'd to place,
The Trojans ruins rais'd the Roman race.
Nay we have some who fame and honour breath,
Dare gaze undaunton'd on the face of death;
Who to the whispers of a palefac't fear,
Or dreadfull danger, never lent an ear:
Whose purchases altho not great, yet good,
Were bought with sweat, and sealed with their blood.
All which in camp, or court, by night, or day,
If you command, are ready to obey.
May't only please your Highness quash these fears,
We have conceiv'd from dalted Whiggimares.
And yet what e're these villains did presume,
Their flamm at last did only prove a fume.
So may health, honour, saftie still attend
Your Royal Highness to an happy end.
And still like Cæsars may intrancing blisse.
Crown your desires, or else prevent your wish
And be it registrate in after storie,
Your presence, was our happiness, and glory.
Wee'l be your Ivi, if yee'l be our oak;
And faithfully we promise for our parts,
Tho we cannot give Crowns, we will give hearts.
14
Bate us that ace, we Scots are still as stout.
Nor power, nor honour is confin'd to place,
The Trojans ruins rais'd the Roman race.
Nay we have some who fame and honour breath,
Dare gaze undaunton'd on the face of death;
Who to the whispers of a palefac't fear,
Or dreadfull danger, never lent an ear:
Whose purchases altho not great, yet good,
Were bought with sweat, and sealed with their blood.
All which in camp, or court, by night, or day,
If you command, are ready to obey.
May't only please your Highness quash these fears,
We have conceiv'd from dalted Whiggimares.
And yet what e're these villains did presume,
Their flamm at last did only prove a fume.
So may health, honour, saftie still attend
Your Royal Highness to an happy end.
And still like Cæsars may intrancing blisse.
Crown your desires, or else prevent your wish
And be it registrate in after storie,
Your presence, was our happiness, and glory.
Ad Illustrissimum Principem JACOBUM ALBANI Æ & Eboraci Ducem.
DUX duce ubique Deo, per te tua Scotia sumitFracta animos mores barbara, pauper opes.
FINIS.
| The Fanatick Indulgence | |