Hudibras Redivivus or, a Burlesque poem on the times. The Second Edition. To which is added, An Apology, and some other Improvements throughout the Whole [by Edward Ward] |
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| 11. | Part the Eleventh. |
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 | Hudibras Redivivus |  |
1
11. Part the Eleventh.
3
Fear
, Malice, Av'rice, Zeal, and Pride,
Kindling the War on e'ery Side,
No Part o' th' Nation now was free
From warm Disputes for Victory:
Confusion e'ery where arose,
And Brothers were to Brothers Foes;
Fathers against their Children fought;
And Sons their Parents Ruin sought.
The noisy Gun, and glitt'ring Sword,
The drowthy Soil with Blood manur'd;
The nobler Plants, in Fields and Plains,
Suck'd up what flow'd from loyal Veins,
That the kind sanguinary Juice
Might live for ever, and produce
Something still worthy of our Use:
Whilst bleeding Rebels, with their Gore,
Did trampl'd Weeds to Life restore,
And fill'd those Places, where 'twas spilt,
With prickly Emblems of their Guilt.
Kindling the War on e'ery Side,
No Part o' th' Nation now was free
From warm Disputes for Victory:
Confusion e'ery where arose,
And Brothers were to Brothers Foes;
Fathers against their Children fought;
And Sons their Parents Ruin sought.
The noisy Gun, and glitt'ring Sword,
The drowthy Soil with Blood manur'd;
The nobler Plants, in Fields and Plains,
Suck'd up what flow'd from loyal Veins,
4
Might live for ever, and produce
Something still worthy of our Use:
Whilst bleeding Rebels, with their Gore,
Did trampl'd Weeds to Life restore,
And fill'd those Places, where 'twas spilt,
With prickly Emblems of their Guilt.
Battels now fought, 'twixt Host and Host,
Alternately were won and lost;
So that when one Side gain'd Success,
Some shrew'd Mishap soon made it less,
To shew that what depends on Fortune,
Is still precarious, and uncertain.
Therefore, the giddy Fool that's bent
To judge of Things by the Event,
Mistakes what's fickle Chance, to be
The Consequence of Heav'n's Decree,
And thinks that Cause or Quarrel, must
Not only be more safe, but just,
That with the most Success is blest,
And does in Battel prosper best.
When the good Fortune, that befriends us,
Or the ill Luck, that so attends us,
Do oft appear, by Circumstance,
To be alone the Works of Chance,
And all the boasted great Event,
To be no more than Accident.
But proud rebellious Saints, to gloss,
With holy Cheats, their wicked Cause,
When Chance the Victory has given,
Ascribe it to the Hand of Heaven;
By which fanatick Piece of Cunning,
Whilst headlong to Old Nick they're running
Th' insinuate, that the Lord engages
In all their villanous Outrages;
And that he does, thro' Justice, bless
Their sinful Works with good Success.
Therefore, when Whims Enthusiastick,
Make 'em thus wickedly fantastick,
Well may they fancy Wrong is Right,
And that their blackest Deeds are white;
Rebellion just, their Treasons holy,
Because they prosper in their Folly.
Thus, whensoe'er they chanc'd to smite
Their En'mies Hip and Thigh in Fight,
Aloud their canting Teachers cry'd,
The Lord we see is on our Side,
And helps us to confound their Pride.
O, Israel, to your Tents again,
Your great Success has made it plain,
The Lord of Host, in whom we trust,
Has bless'd our Cause, because 'tis just:
Therefore with joyful Hearts go on,
And pull the Dagon Idol down;
Then shall the Saints, with awful Hand,
Possess and rule the promis'd Land.
Alternately were won and lost;
So that when one Side gain'd Success,
Some shrew'd Mishap soon made it less,
To shew that what depends on Fortune,
Is still precarious, and uncertain.
Therefore, the giddy Fool that's bent
To judge of Things by the Event,
Mistakes what's fickle Chance, to be
The Consequence of Heav'n's Decree,
And thinks that Cause or Quarrel, must
Not only be more safe, but just,
5
And does in Battel prosper best.
When the good Fortune, that befriends us,
Or the ill Luck, that so attends us,
Do oft appear, by Circumstance,
To be alone the Works of Chance,
And all the boasted great Event,
To be no more than Accident.
But proud rebellious Saints, to gloss,
With holy Cheats, their wicked Cause,
When Chance the Victory has given,
Ascribe it to the Hand of Heaven;
By which fanatick Piece of Cunning,
Whilst headlong to Old Nick they're running
Th' insinuate, that the Lord engages
In all their villanous Outrages;
And that he does, thro' Justice, bless
Their sinful Works with good Success.
Therefore, when Whims Enthusiastick,
Make 'em thus wickedly fantastick,
6
And that their blackest Deeds are white;
Rebellion just, their Treasons holy,
Because they prosper in their Folly.
Thus, whensoe'er they chanc'd to smite
Their En'mies Hip and Thigh in Fight,
Aloud their canting Teachers cry'd,
The Lord we see is on our Side,
And helps us to confound their Pride.
O, Israel, to your Tents again,
Your great Success has made it plain,
The Lord of Host, in whom we trust,
Has bless'd our Cause, because 'tis just:
Therefore with joyful Hearts go on,
And pull the Dagon Idol down;
Then shall the Saints, with awful Hand,
Possess and rule the promis'd Land.
So may the Ruffian, that succeeds
In bloody, base, ignoble Deeds,
Hold up his Hands, and turn his Eyes,
Like prosp'rous Rebels, tow'rds the Skies,
And thank the Lord, that he has blest
Those Ills, his Goodness does detest,
And never long escape, we see,
The Vengeance of Eternity.
In bloody, base, ignoble Deeds,
7
Like prosp'rous Rebels, tow'rds the Skies,
And thank the Lord, that he has blest
Those Ills, his Goodness does detest,
And never long escape, we see,
The Vengeance of Eternity.
Thus sacred Villains oft express
Their Thanks to Heav'n, for their Success,
Tho' th' Cause of their Prosperity
Is wicked to the last Degree:
As if the hypocritick Cant,
And pious Glav'rings of a Saint,
Could sanctify the Guilt of Blood,
And make his sinful Actions good;
Or consecrate their vile Rebellion,
By putting a Religious Veil on.
'Tis true, it sometimes may disguise
Their Villainy from human Eyes,
And gloss it over, to delude
The base misjudging Multitude:
But Heav'n in Wrath beholds the Cheat,
And, when his Justice thinks it meet,
Pours Vengeance down, to let 'em see
He hates their vile Hypocrisy;
And that each boasted prosp'rous Evil,
Is not from God, but from the Devil.
Their Thanks to Heav'n, for their Success,
Tho' th' Cause of their Prosperity
Is wicked to the last Degree:
As if the hypocritick Cant,
And pious Glav'rings of a Saint,
Could sanctify the Guilt of Blood,
And make his sinful Actions good;
Or consecrate their vile Rebellion,
By putting a Religious Veil on.
'Tis true, it sometimes may disguise
Their Villainy from human Eyes,
And gloss it over, to delude
The base misjudging Multitude:
8
And, when his Justice thinks it meet,
Pours Vengeance down, to let 'em see
He hates their vile Hypocrisy;
And that each boasted prosp'rous Evil,
Is not from God, but from the Devil.
When both Sides had in Heat and Choler
Made equal Trial of their Valour,
And labour'd hard, in Blood and Sweat,
Who should the final Vict'ry get;
Yet neither scarce, for Years, could tell
On whom the most Success had fell;
Fortune to both alike inclin'd,
Would not to either long be kind,
But toss'd her Flatt'ries to and fro,
As Men their Balls at Tennis throw;
Using her Smiles, as Jilts are wont
To do 'twixt Husband and Gallant:
So mutually conferr'd her Favour
On both Sides, but was true to neither.
Made equal Trial of their Valour,
And labour'd hard, in Blood and Sweat,
Who should the final Vict'ry get;
Yet neither scarce, for Years, could tell
On whom the most Success had fell;
Fortune to both alike inclin'd,
Would not to either long be kind,
But toss'd her Flatt'ries to and fro,
As Men their Balls at Tennis throw;
Using her Smiles, as Jilts are wont
To do 'twixt Husband and Gallant:
So mutually conferr'd her Favour
On both Sides, but was true to neither.
9
At last, the faithless scabby Brood,
Who never yet did England good,
Join'd with their Brother Rebels here
Against the Royal Sufferer;
That pious Saints, to their Renown,
Might, with reforming Hands, pull down
That Popish Enemy, a Crown.
No Wonder, that their Zeal and Spite
Should make 'em readily unite,
Since puritannick Sons of Grace,
Altho' they different Lands possess;
Yet if Rebellion once be started
By any of the Righteous-hearted,
The distant Brethren always join
To carry on the good Design;
And, by a sympathizing Spirit,
Deem Plots and Treasons, Works of Merit:
Nay, canting Guides must stretch their Jaws,
In straining Heaven's holy Laws,
To propagate the good old Cause.
This is the Time, my loving Friends,
In which the living Lord intends
To shew his Mercy unto all,
That never bow'd their Knees to Baal,
And to deliver you his People
From that tall Idol, call'd a Steeple:
Therefore I do not only teach ye,
But humbly pray ye, and beseech ye,
That your Assistance be not wanting
To forward what the Lord is granting.
Who never yet did England good,
Join'd with their Brother Rebels here
Against the Royal Sufferer;
That pious Saints, to their Renown,
Might, with reforming Hands, pull down
That Popish Enemy, a Crown.
No Wonder, that their Zeal and Spite
Should make 'em readily unite,
Since puritannick Sons of Grace,
Altho' they different Lands possess;
Yet if Rebellion once be started
By any of the Righteous-hearted,
The distant Brethren always join
To carry on the good Design;
And, by a sympathizing Spirit,
Deem Plots and Treasons, Works of Merit:
Nay, canting Guides must stretch their Jaws,
In straining Heaven's holy Laws,
To propagate the good old Cause.
10
In which the living Lord intends
To shew his Mercy unto all,
That never bow'd their Knees to Baal,
And to deliver you his People
From that tall Idol, call'd a Steeple:
Therefore I do not only teach ye,
But humbly pray ye, and beseech ye,
That your Assistance be not wanting
To forward what the Lord is granting.
Such pious Frauds, and holy Cants,
Delude at once the list'ning Saints,
To think they're bound, by Heaven's Laws,
To venture all to serve the Cause:
For if their Teachers do but head 'em,
And tell them, that the Lord does need 'em;
No Matter if the Devil drives,
They'll hazard both Estates and Lives.
Thus dear Rebellion and Confusion,
Like the sad Cry of Persecution,
Always inspire each holy Brother
To closely stick by one another;
By which united Strength and Craft,
They foil the Wicked very oft,
And work most wond'rous Revolutions,
Which always end in such Confusions,
That after-Ages have been bound
To curse their Ashes under Ground.
Delude at once the list'ning Saints,
To think they're bound, by Heaven's Laws,
To venture all to serve the Cause:
For if their Teachers do but head 'em,
And tell them, that the Lord does need 'em;
No Matter if the Devil drives,
They'll hazard both Estates and Lives.
Thus dear Rebellion and Confusion,
Like the sad Cry of Persecution,
11
To closely stick by one another;
By which united Strength and Craft,
They foil the Wicked very oft,
And work most wond'rous Revolutions,
Which always end in such Confusions,
That after-Ages have been bound
To curse their Ashes under Ground.
When thus the mangy Loons had join'd
The English Rebels to their Mind,
They were not much unlike the Rabble,
That Heav'n confounded once at Babel:
For tho' this sanguinary Crew
Had not so many Tongues, 'tis true;
Yet may I boldly testify,
Without that Saint-like Grace, a Lie,
They'd more Religions in their Host,
Than Babel Languages could boast:
From whence, to all the World's Surprize,
As great Confusions did arise,
As e'er could hinder and turmoil:
The Builders of the lofty Pile.
The English Rebels to their Mind,
They were not much unlike the Rabble,
That Heav'n confounded once at Babel:
For tho' this sanguinary Crew
Had not so many Tongues, 'tis true;
Yet may I boldly testify,
Without that Saint-like Grace, a Lie,
They'd more Religions in their Host,
Than Babel Languages could boast:
From whence, to all the World's Surprize,
As great Confusions did arise,
12
The Builders of the lofty Pile.
The Presbyterians led the Van,
And made the wicked Path more plain;
Crying out, Popery and Slavery,
To cast a Mist before their Knavery.
And made the wicked Path more plain;
Crying out, Popery and Slavery,
To cast a Mist before their Knavery.
The Independants follow'd next,
Each chewing some mysterious Text,
That might defend, upon Occasion,
Their godly Work of Decolation.
Each chewing some mysterious Text,
That might defend, upon Occasion,
Their godly Work of Decolation.
The Baptist Churl, with meagre Jaws,
Came on to help the good old Cause;
Crying aloud, with grizly Beard on,
Lord cleanse us in thy River Jordan,
And make us worthy to become
The Follow'rs of thy Kettle-Drum.
Came on to help the good old Cause;
Crying aloud, with grizly Beard on,
Lord cleanse us in thy River Jordan,
And make us worthy to become
The Follow'rs of thy Kettle-Drum.
The Fifth-Monarchical Fanaticks,
The maddest of the four Pragmaticks,
March'd next with melancholly Mein,
Almost devour'd 'twixt Zeal and Spleen;
Cry'ng, down with all those wicked Things,
Those Idols of the Earth, call'd Kings:
Give us thy Holy One to please us;
For we'll obey no King, but ------
The maddest of the four Pragmaticks,
March'd next with melancholly Mein,
Almost devour'd 'twixt Zeal and Spleen;
13
Those Idols of the Earth, call'd Kings:
Give us thy Holy One to please us;
For we'll obey no King, but ------
Next came those pale Fanatick Troops
Of ill-look'd pious Ninconpoops,
Muggleton's Saints, and Seventh-Day Men,
Who knew no other Priests, but Lay-men;
Nay, chose their greatest Fools to teach 'em,
Because they should not over-reach 'em:
A rare Receipt to keep their Sides
From being gall'd by canting Guides;
Who, if they find they can bestride ye,
Will prove by Scripture they may ride ye.
Of ill-look'd pious Ninconpoops,
Muggleton's Saints, and Seventh-Day Men,
Who knew no other Priests, but Lay-men;
Nay, chose their greatest Fools to teach 'em,
Because they should not over-reach 'em:
A rare Receipt to keep their Sides
From being gall'd by canting Guides;
Who, if they find they can bestride ye,
Will prove by Scripture they may ride ye.
Papists, disguis'd amongst the rest
In puritannick Querpo drest,
Join'd with the Rebels to pull down
Those Hereticks, the Church and Crown:
Nay, all the Jesuits in the Nation
Obtain'd a Holy Dispensation
From Grandsire Greybeard, that they might,
Like gifted Brethren, preach or fight,
T' assist the Luciferian Party
In carrying on their Olygarchy;
Hoping that when they'd brought the Nation,
By still pretending Reformation,
Into a mis'rable Condition
Of Malice, Bloodshed, Irreligion,
That then the Bald-pates might once more,
By Plots and Stratagems, restore
The ancient Babylonian Whore.
For Atheism, which Fanatick Scrubs
Advance by yawning in their Tubs,
And which their puritannick Hearers
Call Reformation from Church-Errors,
Has always been approv'd to be
A leading Card to Popery.
For when the People have been long
Misled, and humour'd in the Wrong,
'Till thro' ill Custom they have lost,
All Sense of what is right or just,
'Tis then most easy to enslave 'em,
And make 'em what you'd please to have 'em.
So he that works in Wax or Metals,
That makes fine Images or Kettles,
When he designs such Alteration
Of either, as to change their Fashion,
He melts down what such Pains had cost,
By which its ancient Form is lost;
And when it's thus reduc'd by Fire,
New moulds it to his own Desire.
In puritannick Querpo drest,
Join'd with the Rebels to pull down
Those Hereticks, the Church and Crown:
Nay, all the Jesuits in the Nation
Obtain'd a Holy Dispensation
14
Like gifted Brethren, preach or fight,
T' assist the Luciferian Party
In carrying on their Olygarchy;
Hoping that when they'd brought the Nation,
By still pretending Reformation,
Into a mis'rable Condition
Of Malice, Bloodshed, Irreligion,
That then the Bald-pates might once more,
By Plots and Stratagems, restore
The ancient Babylonian Whore.
For Atheism, which Fanatick Scrubs
Advance by yawning in their Tubs,
And which their puritannick Hearers
Call Reformation from Church-Errors,
Has always been approv'd to be
A leading Card to Popery.
For when the People have been long
Misled, and humour'd in the Wrong,
15
All Sense of what is right or just,
'Tis then most easy to enslave 'em,
And make 'em what you'd please to have 'em.
So he that works in Wax or Metals,
That makes fine Images or Kettles,
When he designs such Alteration
Of either, as to change their Fashion,
He melts down what such Pains had cost,
By which its ancient Form is lost;
And when it's thus reduc'd by Fire,
New moulds it to his own Desire.
When bonny Scots, by Rump invited,
Had with these mingled Troops united,
And made the vile rebellious Rabble
Against the King, more formidable,
They now began to think, that all
Must soon into their Clutches fall;
And that the pious Work, wherein
The stubborn Sons of Grace had been
So busy with such little Fortune,
Would now go rarely on, for certain.
For when they'd thus increas'd their Force
With mangy Foot and scrubbed Horse,
They doubted not but Heav'n would bless
The strongest Army with Success;
Tho' long before, they preach'd and cry'd,
The Lord of Host was on their Side;
Yet failing in that righteous Work,
They hop'd to finish with a Jerk,
They begg'd the Scots to make 'em stronger,
Which shew'd they'd trust the Lord no longer;
For bad they thought their Quarrel just,
In God they still had put their Trust;
Not in a People so p---s,
So b---ly tr---s, tho' religious.
Had with these mingled Troops united,
And made the vile rebellious Rabble
Against the King, more formidable,
They now began to think, that all
Must soon into their Clutches fall;
And that the pious Work, wherein
The stubborn Sons of Grace had been
16
Would now go rarely on, for certain.
For when they'd thus increas'd their Force
With mangy Foot and scrubbed Horse,
They doubted not but Heav'n would bless
The strongest Army with Success;
Tho' long before, they preach'd and cry'd,
The Lord of Host was on their Side;
Yet failing in that righteous Work,
They hop'd to finish with a Jerk,
They begg'd the Scots to make 'em stronger,
Which shew'd they'd trust the Lord no longer;
For bad they thought their Quarrel just,
In God they still had put their Trust;
Not in a People so p---s,
So b---ly tr---s, tho' religious.
The King, by Hamilton's Persuasion,
Not fearing any Scotch Invasion,
Was falsly flatter'd all along
To credit what at last prov'd wrong;
And to believe the Scots his Friends,
Whose fawning Kindness always tends
To nothing, but their own by-Ends.
But when th' injur'd King had heard
The only fatal News he fear'd;
And that the freckly Loons, at best,
Were but false Rebels, like the rest,
And once more prov'd themselves to be
True Scotch-men, by their Treachery.
The King was now disturb'd, to find
Both Kingdoms of one wicked Mind;
And, that the Presbyterian Kirk
Of Scotland, so approv'd the Work
Of base dissenting Rebels here,
As to assist that Holy War;
Which gave the Godly such Occasion
Of shewing their vile Inclination
To Murder, Treason, and Oppression,
Those three Inducements, that inspire
The warlike Saints with martial Fire,
And in a wrong Cause make 'em fight
More desp'rately, than if 'twas right.
So the keen Sportsman, who so brags
Of running Horses, Guns, and Dogs,
Is apt to take much more Delight
In stealing a fat Buck by Night,
Than in a Brace, that he obtains
By any just and lawful Means,
Because the Pleasure, most Men do agree,
Lies not i' th' Ven'son, but the Roguery.
Not fearing any Scotch Invasion,
Was falsly flatter'd all along
To credit what at last prov'd wrong;
17
Whose fawning Kindness always tends
To nothing, but their own by-Ends.
But when th' injur'd King had heard
The only fatal News he fear'd;
And that the freckly Loons, at best,
Were but false Rebels, like the rest,
And once more prov'd themselves to be
True Scotch-men, by their Treachery.
The King was now disturb'd, to find
Both Kingdoms of one wicked Mind;
And, that the Presbyterian Kirk
Of Scotland, so approv'd the Work
Of base dissenting Rebels here,
As to assist that Holy War;
Which gave the Godly such Occasion
Of shewing their vile Inclination
To Murder, Treason, and Oppression,
Those three Inducements, that inspire
The warlike Saints with martial Fire,
18
More desp'rately, than if 'twas right.
So the keen Sportsman, who so brags
Of running Horses, Guns, and Dogs,
Is apt to take much more Delight
In stealing a fat Buck by Night,
Than in a Brace, that he obtains
By any just and lawful Means,
Because the Pleasure, most Men do agree,
Lies not i' th' Ven'son, but the Roguery.
When thus the Rump, to serve their Ends,
Had join'd their Northern scabby Friends,
Who, to promote the pious Work,
March'd their united Force to York,
In order to besiege that Town,
Which was as yet i' th' Hands o' th' Crown.
The King surpriz'd at this Alarm,
And growing resolutely warm,
Gave to his Gen'rals strict Command
To march, and fight 'em out of Hand,
And speed'ly to relieve the Town,
'Fore which the Rebels were sat down.
Had join'd their Northern scabby Friends,
Who, to promote the pious Work,
March'd their united Force to York,
In order to besiege that Town,
Which was as yet i' th' Hands o' th' Crown.
The King surpriz'd at this Alarm,
And growing resolutely warm,
Gave to his Gen'rals strict Command
To march, and fight 'em out of Hand,
19
'Fore which the Rebels were sat down.
These Royal Orders they pursu'd,
Fearing (as gallant Heroes shou'd)
The Loss of Vict'ry, more than Blood:
But when the loyal Army came
To York, that Town of ancient Fame,
The Rebels were retir'd before,
Some Miles from thence, to Marston-Moor,
That fatal Field, wherein was fought
The Battel, where the Rebels got
That bloody Day, that turn'd the Tide,
And swell'd the democratick Side
With joyful Insolence and Pride.
O strange! that Stars, (if they could steer,
Or Influence Human Actions here)
In spite of Justice, should determine
The Vict'ry for such wicked Vermin!
Sure, when the first rebellious War
Was rais'd in Heav'n by Lucifer,
And all his winged Troops were thrown,
By the Almighty's Vengeance, down,
That some were hang'd i' th' middle Way,
To warn us how we disobey.
From thence were model'd, since their Fall,
To Stars, which now we Planets call;
So still continue, and dispense
Their old rebellious Influence;
To shew, tho' conquer'd, they abhor
(Fanatick like) all sov'reign Pow'r;
And since they once were Heaven's Foes,
Will still remain inclin'd to those
Who love, on Earth, to be at Varience
With the same God, and his Vice-gerents:
Or, sure, if they could Favour show
To distant Mortals here below,
They'd ne'er befriend the Rebels Side,
And all their kinder Aspects hide
From injur'd Princes, when distress'd,
And by rebellious Brutes oppress'd.
But Stars, like those that read their Faces,
And measure their unweary'd Paces,
Are so ambiguous, and uncertain,
That neither can predict our Fortune,
Or shew us what's behind the Curtain.
Fearing (as gallant Heroes shou'd)
The Loss of Vict'ry, more than Blood:
But when the loyal Army came
To York, that Town of ancient Fame,
The Rebels were retir'd before,
Some Miles from thence, to Marston-Moor,
That fatal Field, wherein was fought
The Battel, where the Rebels got
That bloody Day, that turn'd the Tide,
And swell'd the democratick Side
With joyful Insolence and Pride.
O strange! that Stars, (if they could steer,
Or Influence Human Actions here)
In spite of Justice, should determine
The Vict'ry for such wicked Vermin!
Sure, when the first rebellious War
Was rais'd in Heav'n by Lucifer,
20
By the Almighty's Vengeance, down,
That some were hang'd i' th' middle Way,
To warn us how we disobey.
From thence were model'd, since their Fall,
To Stars, which now we Planets call;
So still continue, and dispense
Their old rebellious Influence;
To shew, tho' conquer'd, they abhor
(Fanatick like) all sov'reign Pow'r;
And since they once were Heaven's Foes,
Will still remain inclin'd to those
Who love, on Earth, to be at Varience
With the same God, and his Vice-gerents:
Or, sure, if they could Favour show
To distant Mortals here below,
They'd ne'er befriend the Rebels Side,
And all their kinder Aspects hide
From injur'd Princes, when distress'd,
And by rebellious Brutes oppress'd.
21
And measure their unweary'd Paces,
Are so ambiguous, and uncertain,
That neither can predict our Fortune,
Or shew us what's behind the Curtain.
When thus the Royalists had lost
That Battel, which futurely cost
The King his Int'rest in the North,
And all those Towns that were of Worth;
Such preaching, praising, and such canting,
Such writing, boasting, and such vaunting,
Were us'd amongst the yawning Saints,
To all their list'ning Sycophants,
As if their stupid Zeal was fir'd
With Hopes of all that they desir'd.
Thanksgivings in each Barn and Stable,
Were made by Guides, to please the Rabble;
And in each Tub the joyful Story
Was so enlarg'd, to God's great Glory,
As if the old fanatick Spirit
Had told 'em, 'twas a Saint-like Merit
T' improve the Truth into a Lie
Before th' eternal Majesty.
But the same Talent's still in Use
With Guides, who do their Flocks amuse,
Not with Divinity, but News;
As if their Doctrine had been most
Collected from the Flying-Post;
And that Advice from Spain or Flanders,
Sent over by our Great Commanders,
Was far more welcome to their Flocks,
Than Apostolick Orthodox.
But notwithstanding that the Brood
Of Rebels such Rejoycings shew'd,
And made such boasting Acclamations
Throughout the two united Nations;
Yet 'twas the King's good Luck, soon after,
T' abate their Joy with such a Slaughter,
Of stubborn Rebels, that the Saints
Were fill'd with Murmurs and Complaints,
And now again began to think,
In Spite of Fate, their Cause would sink,
And that the Rump at last must stink:
For Waller, swell'd with mighty Hopes,
March'd with his puritannick Troops
Tow'rds Worc'ster, meaning to pursue
The King with his rebellious Crew,
Believing now the same Success,
Would still attend their Wickedness;
But the King knowing his Intent,
Turn'd back on the fanatick Saint,
And made his Army feel the Weight
Of Royal Vengeance, made more great
By being so unfortunate.
This gallant Action of Renown
Was owing to the King alone;
His Princely Courage led the Way,
And prudent Conduct won the Day,
Cov'ring the Field with Rebels slain,
And seizing their Artill'ry Train,
Killing and taking, in the Fight,
All but those Traytors, who by Flight
Escap'd, befriended by the Night.
That Battel, which futurely cost
The King his Int'rest in the North,
And all those Towns that were of Worth;
Such preaching, praising, and such canting,
Such writing, boasting, and such vaunting,
Were us'd amongst the yawning Saints,
To all their list'ning Sycophants,
As if their stupid Zeal was fir'd
With Hopes of all that they desir'd.
Thanksgivings in each Barn and Stable,
Were made by Guides, to please the Rabble;
And in each Tub the joyful Story
Was so enlarg'd, to God's great Glory,
22
Had told 'em, 'twas a Saint-like Merit
T' improve the Truth into a Lie
Before th' eternal Majesty.
But the same Talent's still in Use
With Guides, who do their Flocks amuse,
Not with Divinity, but News;
As if their Doctrine had been most
Collected from the Flying-Post;
And that Advice from Spain or Flanders,
Sent over by our Great Commanders,
Was far more welcome to their Flocks,
Than Apostolick Orthodox.
But notwithstanding that the Brood
Of Rebels such Rejoycings shew'd,
And made such boasting Acclamations
Throughout the two united Nations;
Yet 'twas the King's good Luck, soon after,
T' abate their Joy with such a Slaughter,
23
Were fill'd with Murmurs and Complaints,
And now again began to think,
In Spite of Fate, their Cause would sink,
And that the Rump at last must stink:
For Waller, swell'd with mighty Hopes,
March'd with his puritannick Troops
Tow'rds Worc'ster, meaning to pursue
The King with his rebellious Crew,
Believing now the same Success,
Would still attend their Wickedness;
But the King knowing his Intent,
Turn'd back on the fanatick Saint,
And made his Army feel the Weight
Of Royal Vengeance, made more great
By being so unfortunate.
This gallant Action of Renown
Was owing to the King alone;
His Princely Courage led the Way,
And prudent Conduct won the Day,
24
And seizing their Artill'ry Train,
Killing and taking, in the Fight,
All but those Traytors, who by Flight
Escap'd, befriended by the Night.
No sooner had this Vict'ry spoil'd
That Joy, with which the Saints were fill'd,
And turn'd their Boasting and their Gladness
Into dispairing Grief and Sadness;
But the King, mov'd by this Success,
Resolv'd to give Cornutus Chase,
So march'd his loyal Troops away
To Cornwall, where the Rebels lay;
There, by his Conduct, hemm'd 'em round,
And drove 'em into such a Pound,
That Earl Cornutus, in a Fright
Was forc'd to steal away by Night,
In a small Bout, to save his Beacon,
Or else the Rebel had been taken;
A good Shift too, for many find
The Sea so merciful and kind
To save those Traytors from the Hand
Of Justice, that should swing by Land.
That Joy, with which the Saints were fill'd,
And turn'd their Boasting and their Gladness
Into dispairing Grief and Sadness;
But the King, mov'd by this Success,
Resolv'd to give Cornutus Chase,
So march'd his loyal Troops away
To Cornwall, where the Rebels lay;
There, by his Conduct, hemm'd 'em round,
And drove 'em into such a Pound,
That Earl Cornutus, in a Fright
Was forc'd to steal away by Night,
In a small Bout, to save his Beacon,
Or else the Rebel had been taken;
25
The Sea so merciful and kind
To save those Traytors from the Hand
Of Justice, that should swing by Land.
Their Gen'ral having thus deserted,
The rest were all quite broken-hearted.
An Army, when their Leader's fled,
Is like a Man without a Head,
The Limbs of either cannot do
That Office they're appointed to.
Now fearing all to be destroy'd,
Their Horse, the Danger to avoid,
By Night, broke thro' the Royal Quarters,
And so escap'd their dying Martyrs
For that good Cause, which e'ery Guide,
That canted on the Rebels Side,
Had so devoutly sanctify'd:
But the poor Foot, in woeful Plight,
Having no Hopes by Day or Night,
To shun the Danger, or eschew
The sad Destruction in their View,
Had no Way left 'em, but to quit
Their Arms, and humbly to submit,
Knowing his Mercy was so tender,
To whom they did their Lives surrender,
That he'd forgive their Disobedience,
Upon their Promise of Allegiance;
Which at the Royal Army's Head
They all in solemn Manner made,
And so were suffer'd to depart,
When hanging was their just Desert:
But Mercy from a King they hate,
Tho' ne'er so generously great,
Can no fanatick Saints reclaim,
For Rebels will be still the same.
So he that does, thro' Pitty, save
A Thief from Gallows, and the Grave,
Preserves a Rogue will ne'er regard him,
But cut his Weason, to reward him.
The Truth of this the gracious Prince
Soon found by sad Experience,
For in the next severe Dispute
Between the King, and Earl Cornute,
Which happen'd near to Newbury Town,
Where angry Fortune cast a Frown
Upon the King, and gave the Pride
Of Vict'ry to the Rebels Side,
Because those Traytors, who before
Made solemn Vows to never more
Bear Arms against the Sov'reign Pow'r,
Had all their sacred Oaths forgot,
And with more Heat and Fury fought,
Than all their other base Adherents,
Not bound by Mercy to Forbearance;
So that it plainly did appear,
Th' unhappy King's Misfortunes here,
Were owing to the Rogues he'd spar'd,
Who to their Vows had no Regard,
But were by Mercy made more hard.
The rest were all quite broken-hearted.
An Army, when their Leader's fled,
Is like a Man without a Head,
The Limbs of either cannot do
That Office they're appointed to.
Now fearing all to be destroy'd,
Their Horse, the Danger to avoid,
By Night, broke thro' the Royal Quarters,
And so escap'd their dying Martyrs
For that good Cause, which e'ery Guide,
That canted on the Rebels Side,
Had so devoutly sanctify'd:
But the poor Foot, in woeful Plight,
Having no Hopes by Day or Night,
26
The sad Destruction in their View,
Had no Way left 'em, but to quit
Their Arms, and humbly to submit,
Knowing his Mercy was so tender,
To whom they did their Lives surrender,
That he'd forgive their Disobedience,
Upon their Promise of Allegiance;
Which at the Royal Army's Head
They all in solemn Manner made,
And so were suffer'd to depart,
When hanging was their just Desert:
But Mercy from a King they hate,
Tho' ne'er so generously great,
Can no fanatick Saints reclaim,
For Rebels will be still the same.
So he that does, thro' Pitty, save
A Thief from Gallows, and the Grave,
Preserves a Rogue will ne'er regard him,
But cut his Weason, to reward him.
27
Soon found by sad Experience,
For in the next severe Dispute
Between the King, and Earl Cornute,
Which happen'd near to Newbury Town,
Where angry Fortune cast a Frown
Upon the King, and gave the Pride
Of Vict'ry to the Rebels Side,
Because those Traytors, who before
Made solemn Vows to never more
Bear Arms against the Sov'reign Pow'r,
Had all their sacred Oaths forgot,
And with more Heat and Fury fought,
Than all their other base Adherents,
Not bound by Mercy to Forbearance;
So that it plainly did appear,
Th' unhappy King's Misfortunes here,
Were owing to the Rogues he'd spar'd,
Who to their Vows had no Regard,
But were by Mercy made more hard.
28
Therefore, from hence the World may see
That Rebels cannot grateful be;
In Nature they're avers'd to Good,
And love to bathe in Loyal Blood;
No Favours will reclaim the Brutes,
Or stop their villanous Pursuits;
Severity's the only Way
To make 'em truckle, and obey:
For like rank Nettles, that are found
Aspiring in neglected Ground,
The more they're crush'd, the less they wound.
That Rebels cannot grateful be;
In Nature they're avers'd to Good,
And love to bathe in Loyal Blood;
No Favours will reclaim the Brutes,
Or stop their villanous Pursuits;
Severity's the only Way
To make 'em truckle, and obey:
For like rank Nettles, that are found
Aspiring in neglected Ground,
The more they're crush'd, the less they wound.
FINIS.
| Hudibras Redivivus | |