Chapter II: Part 2

Of Low-born Tools we bawling _Shimei_ saw, _Jerusalems_ late loud-tongu'd MOUTH of Law. By Blessings from Almighty Bounty given, _Shimei_ no common Favorite of Heaven. Whom, lest Posterity should loose the Breed, In five short Moons indulgent Heav'n rais'd Seed; Made happy in an Early teeming Bride, And laid a lovely Heiress by her side. Whilst the glad Father's so divinely blest, } That like the Stag proud of his Brow so drest, } He brandishes his lofty City-Crest. } 'Twas in _Jerusalem_ was _Shimei_ nurst, _Jerusalem_ by _Baals_ Prophets ever curst, The greatest Block that stops 'em in their way, For which she once in Dust and Ashes lay. Here to the Bar this whiffling Lurcher came, And barkt to rowze the nobler Hunters Game. But _Shimei's_ Lungs might well be stretcht so far; For steering by a Court-Ascendant Star, For daily Oracles he does address, To the _Egyptian_ Beauteous Sorceress. For _Pharoah_ when he wisely did essay To bear the long-sought Golden Prize away, That fair Enchantress sent, whose Magick Skill Should keep great _Israels_ sleeping Dragon still. Thus by her powerful inspirations fed, } To bite their Heels this City-Snake was bred, } Till _Absalon_ got strength to bruise their Head. } Of all the Heroes since the world began, To _Shimei Joshuah_ was the bravest Man. To Him his Tutelar Saint he prays, and oh, That great _Jerusalem_ were like _Jericoh_! Then bellowing lowd for _Joshuahs_ Spirit calls, Because his Rams-horn blew down City-Walls.

In the same Roll have we grave _Corah_ seen, _Corah_, the late chief Scarlet _Abbethdin_. _Corah_, who luckily i'th' Bench was got, To loo the Bloodhounds off to save the Plot. _Corah_, who once against _Baals_ Impious Cause, Stood strong for _Israels_ Faith and _Davids_ Laws. He poys'd his Scales, and shook his ponderous Sword, Lowd as his Fathers _Basan_-Bulls he roar'd; Till by a Dose of Forreign _Ophir_ drencht, The Feavour of his Burning Zeal was Quencht. _Ophir_, that rescu'd the Court-Drugsters Fate, Sent in the Nick to gild his Pills of State. Whilst the kind Skill of our Law-Emperick, Sublim'd his Mercury to save his Neck. In Law, they say, he had but a slender Mite, And Sense he had less: for as Historians write, The _Arabian_ Legate laid a Snare so gay, As Spirited his little Wits away. Of the Records of Law he fancied none Like the Commandment Tables graved in Stone. And wish'd the _Talmude_ such, that Soveraign sway When once displeased might th'angry _Moses_ play. Onely his Law was Brittle i'th' wrong place: For had our _Corah_ been in _Moses_ Case, The Fury of his Zeal had been employ'd To build that Calf which th'others Rage destroy'd. Thus _Corah, Baals_ true Fayry Changeling made, He Bleated onely as the _Pharisees_ pray'd, All to advance that future Tyrant pow'r, Should Widows Houses gorge, and Orphans Tears devour.

Nor are these all their Instruments; to prop Their Mighty Cause, and _Israels_ Murmurs stop; They find a sort of Academick Tools; Who by the Politick Doctrine of their Schools, Betwixt Reward, Pride, Avarice, Hope and Fear, Prizing their Heav'n too cheap, the World too dear, Stand bold and strong for _Absolons_ Defence: Interest the Thing, but Conscience the Pretence. These to ensure him for their _Sions_ King, A Right Divine quite down from _Adam_ bring, That old Levitick Engine of Renown, That makes no Taint of Souls a bar t'a Crown. 'Tis true, Religions constant Champion vow'd, Each open-mouth'd, with Pulpit-Thunder lowd, Against false Gods, and Idol Temples bawls; Yet lays the very Stones that raise their Walls. They preach up Hell to those that _Baal_ adore, Yet make't Damnation to oppose his pow'r. So far this Paradox of Conscience run, Till _Israels_ Faith pulls _Israels_ Altars down. Grant Heav'n they don't to _Baal_ so far make way, Those fatal _Wands_ before their Sheepfolds lay. Such Motley Principles amongst them thrown, Shall nurse that Py-ball'd Flock that's half his own. Nor may they say, when _Molocks_ Hands draw nigher, We built the Pile, whilst _Baal_ but gives it fire.

If Monarchy in _Adam_ first begun, When the Worlds Monarch dug, and his Queen spun, His Fig-leaves his first Coronation-Robe, His Spade his Scepter, and her Wheel his Globe; And Royal Birthright, as their Schools assert, Not Kings themselves with Conscience can divert; How came the World possest by _Adams_ Sons, Such various Principalities, Powres, Thrones? When each went out and chose what Lands he pleas'd, Whilst a new Family new Kingdoms rais'd? His Sons assuming what he could not give, } Their Soveraign Sires right Heir they did deprive; } And from Rebellion all their pow'r derive: } For were there an original Majesty } Upheld by Right Divine, the World should be } Onely one Universal Monarchy. } O cruel Right Divine, more full of Fate, Then th' Angels flaming Sword at _Edens_ Gate, Such early Treason through Mankind convey'd, And at the door of Infant-Nature layd. For Right Divine in _Esau's_ just defence, Why don't they quarrel with Omnipotence, The first-born _Esau's_ Right to _Jacob_ giv'n, And Gods gift too, Injustice charge on Heav'n. Nay, let Heav'n answer this one Fact alone, Mounting a Bastard _Jephtha_ on a Throne. If Kings and Sanedrims those Laws could make, Which from offending Heirs their Heads can take; And a First-born can forfeit Life and Throne, And all by Law: why not a Crown alone? Strange-bounded Law-makers! whose pow'r can throw The deadlier Bolt, can't give the weaker Blow. A Treasonous Act; nay, but a Treasonous Breath Against offended Majesty is Death. But, oh! the wondrous Church-distinction given Between the Majesty of Kings and Heav'n! The venial sinner here, he that intreagues With _Egypt, Babylon_; Cabals, Plots, Leagues With _Israels_ Foes her Altars to destroy, A Hair untouch'd, shall Health, Peace, Crowns enjoy.

Truths Temple thus the Exhalations bred From her own Bowels, to obscure her Head. And _Absolom_ already had subdu'd Whole Crowds of the unthinking Multitude. But through these Wiles too weak to catch the Wise, Thin as their Ephod-Lawn, a Cobweb Net for Flyes, The searching Sanedrim saw; and to dispel Th'ingendring Mists that threatned _Israel_, They still resolv'd their Plotting Foes defeat, By barring _Absolon_ th'Imperial Seat.

But here's his greatest Tug; could he but make Th'encluding Sanedrims Resolves once shake; Nay, make the smallest Breach, or clashing Jar, In their great Councel, push but home so far, And the great Point's secur'd.----And, lo! among The Princely Heads of that Illustrious Throng, He saw rich Veins with Noble Blood new fill'd; Others who Honour from Dependance held. Some with exhausted Fortunes, to support Their Greatness, propt with Crutches from a Court. These for their Countries Right their Votes still pass, Mov'd like the Water in a Weather-glass, Higher or lower, as the powerful Charm O'th' Soveraign Hand is either cool or warm. Here must th'Attacque be made: for well we know, Reason and Titles from one Fountain flow: Whilst Favour Men no less than Fortunes builds, And Honour ever Moulds as well as Guilds. Honour that still does even new Souls inspire; Honour more powerful than the Heav'n-stoln Fire. These must be wrought to _Absolons_ Defence. For though to baffle the whole Sanedrims Sence, T'attempt Impossibles would be in vain, Yet 'tis enough but to _Divide_ and _Raign_.

Here though small Force such easie Converts draws, Yet 'tis thought fit in glory to their Cause, Some learned Champion of prodigious Sense, With Mighty and long studyed Eloquence, Should with a kind of Inspiration rise, And the unguarded Sanedrim surprize, And such resistless conquering Reasons press, } To charm their vanquisht Souls, that the Success } Might look like Conscience, though 'tis nothing less. }

For this Design no Head nor Tongue so well, As that of the profound _Achitophel_. How, great _Achitophel_! his Hand, his Tongue! _Babylons_ Mortal Foe; he who so long With haughty Sullenness, and scornful Lowr, Had loath'd false Gods, and Arbitrary pow'r. 'Gainst _Baal_ no Combatant more fierce than he; For _Israels_ asserted Liberty, No Man more bold; with generous Rage enflam'd, Against the old ensnaring Test declaim'd. Beside, he bore a most peculiar Hate To sleeping Pilots, all Earth-clods of State. None more abhorr'd the Sycophant Buffoon, And Parasite, th'excrescence of a Throne; Creatures who their creating Sun disgrace, A Brood more abject than _Niles_ Slime-born Race. Such was the Brave _Achitophel_; a Mind, (If but the Heart and Face were of a kind) So far from being by one base Thought deprav'd, That sure half ten such Souls had _Sodom_ sav'd. Here _Baals_ Cabal _Achitophel_ survey'd, And dasht with wonder, half despairing said, Is this the Hand that _Absolon_ must Crown, The Founder of his Temples, Palace, Throne? This, This the mighty Convert we must make? Gods, h'has a Soul not all our Arts can shake.

At this a nicer graver Head stept out, And with this Language chid their groundless Doubt: For shame, no more; what is't that frights you thus? Is it his Hatred of our God, and us, Makes him so formidable in your Eye? Or is't his Wit, Sense, Honour, Bravery? Give him a thousand Virtues more, and plant Them round him like a Wall of Adamant, Strong as the Gates of Heaven; we'll reach his Heart: Cheer, cheer, my Friends, I've found one Mortal part. For he has _Pride_, a vast insatiate _Pride_, Kind Stark, he's vulnerable on that side. Pride that made Angels fall, and pride that hurl'd Entayl'd Destruction through a ruin'd World. _Adam_ from Pride to Disobedience ran: To be like Gods, made a lost wretched Man. There, there, my Sons, let our pour'd strength all fly: For some bold Tempter now to rap him high, From Pinnacles to Mountain Top, and show The gaudy Glories of the World below.

At which the Consult came to this Design, To work him by a kind of Touch Divine. To raise some holy Spright to do the Feat. Nothing like Dreams and Visions to the Great. Did not a little Witch of _Endor_ bring A Visionary Seer t'a cheated King? And shall their greater Magick want Success, Their more Illustrious Sorceries do less!

This final Resolution made, at last Some Mystick words, and invocations past, They call'd the Spirit of a late Court-Scribe; Once a true Servant of the Plotting Tribe: When both with Forreign and Domestick Cost, He plaid the feasted Sanedrims kind Host. H'had scribbled much, and like a Patriot bold, Bid high for _Israels_ Peace with _Egypts_ Gold. But since a Martyr. (Why! as Writers think, His Masters Hand had over-gall'd his Ink.) And by protesting _Absoloms_ wise care, Popt into Brimstone ere he was aware. Him from the Grave they rais'd, in ample kind, His sever'd Head to his seer Quarters joyn'd; Then cas'd his Chin in a false Beard so well, As made him pass for Father _Samuel_. Him thus equipt in a Religious Cloak, They thus his new-made Reverence bespoke.

Go, awful Spright, hast to _Achitophel_, Rouze his great Soul, use every Art, Charm, Spell: For _Absolom_ thy utmost Rhetorick try, Preach him Succession, roar'd Succession cry, Succession drest in all her glorious pride, Succession Worshipt, Sainted, Deify'd. Conjure him by Divine and Humane Pow'rs, Convince, Convert, Confound, make him but ours, That _Absolon_ may mount on _Judahs_ Throne, Whilst all the World before us is our own.

The forward Spright but few Instructions lackt, Strait by the Moons pale light away he packt, And in a trice, his Curtains open'd wide, He sate him by _Achitophels_ Bed-side. And in this style his artful Accents ran.

Hear _Israels_ Hope, thou more than happy Man, Beloved on high, witness this Honour done By Father _Samuel_, and believe me, Son, 'Tis by no common Mandate of a God, A Soul beatifyed, the blest Abode Thus low deserting, quits Immortal Thrones, And from his Grave resumes his sleeping Bones. But Heavn's the Guide, and wondrous is the way, Divine the Embassie: hear, and obey. How long, _Achitophel_, and how profound A Mist of Hell has thy lost Reason drown'd? Can the Apostacy from _Israels_ Faith, In _Israels_ Heir, deserve a murmuring Breath? Or to preserve Religion, Liberty, Peace, Nations, Souls, is that a Cause so high, As the Right Heir from Empire to debar? Forbid it Heav'n, and guard him every Star. Alas, what if an Heir of Royal Race, Gods Glory and his Temples will deface, And make a prey of your Estates, Lives, Laws; Nay, give your Sons to _Molocks_ burning paws; Shall you exclude him? hold that Impious Hand. As _Abraham_ gave his Son at Gods Command, Think still he does by _Divine Right_ succeed: God bids Him Reign, and you should bid Them Bleed. 'Tis true, as Heav'ns Elected Flock, you may For his Conversion, and your Safety _pray_ But Pray'rs are all. To Disinherit him, The very Thought, nay, Word it self's a Crime. For that's the MEANS of Safety: but forbear, For Means are Impious in the Sons of Pray'r. To Miracles alone your Safety owe; And _Abrahams_ Angel wait to stop the Blow. Yes, what if his polluted Throne be strowd With Sacriledge, Idolatry, and Blood; And 'tis you mount him there; you're innocent still: For he's a King, and Kings can do no ill. Oh Royal Birthright, 'tis a Sacred Name: Rowze then _Achitophel_, rowze up for shame: Let not this Lethargy thy Soul benum; But wake, and save the Godlike _Absolom_. And to reward thee for a Deed so great Glut thy Desires, thy full-crown'd wishes meet, Be with accumulated Honours blest, And grasp a STAR t'adorn thy shining Crest.

_Achitophel_ before his Eyes could ope, Dreamt of an Ephod, Mitre, and a Cope. Those visionary Robes t'his Eyes appear'd: For Priestly all was the great Sense he heard. But Priest or Prophet, Right Divine, or all Together; 'twas not at their feebler call, 'Twas at the _Star_ he wak'd; the _Star_ but nam'd, Flasht in his Eyes, and his rowz'd Soul enflam'd. A _Star_, whose Influence had more powerful Light, Then that Miraculous Wanderer of the Night, Decreed to guide the Eastern Sages way: Their's to adore a God, his to betray.

Here the new Convert more than half inspir'd, Strait to his Closet and his Books retir'd. There for all needful Arts in this extreme, For knotty Sophistry t'a limber Theme, Long brooding ere the Mass to Shape was brought, And after many a tugging heaving Thought, Together a well-orderd Speech he draws, With ponderous Sounds for his much-labour'd Cause. Then the astonisht Sanedrim he storm'd, And with such doughty strength the Tug perform'd: Fate did the Work with so much Conquest bless, Wondrous the Champion, Glorious the Success. So powerful Eloquence, so strong was Wit; And with such Force the easie Wind-falls hit.

But the entirest Hearts his Cause could steal, Were the Levitick Chiefs of _Israel_. None with more Rage the Impious Thought run down Of barring _Absolon_, Pow'r, Wishes, Crown. With so much vehemence, such fiery Zeal! Oh, poor unhappy Church of _Israel!_ Thou feelst the Fate of the Arch-angels Wars, The Dragons Tayl sweeps down thy Falling Stars. Nay, the black Vote 'gainst _Absolon_ appear'd So monstrous, that they damn'd it ere 'twas heard. For Prelates ne'r in Sanedrims debate, They argue in the Church, but not i'th' State; And when their Thoughts aslant towards Heav'n they turn, They weigh each Grain of Incense that they burn, But t'Heavens Vice-gerents, Soul, Sense, Reason, all, Or right or wrong, like Hecatombs must fall. And when State-business calls their Thoughts below, Then like their own Church-Organ-Pipes they go. Not _Davids_ Lyre could more his Touch obey: For as their Princes breathe and strike, they play. 'Gainst Royal Will they never can dispute, } But by a strange _Tarantula_ strook mute, } Dance to no other Tune but _Absolute_. } All Acts of Supreme Power they still admire: 'Tis Sacred, though to set the World on Fire, Though Church-Infallibility they explode, As making Humane knowledge equal God; Infallible in a new name goes down, Not in the Mitre lodged, but in the Crown. 'Tis true, blest _Deborahs_ Laws they could forget: (But want of Memory commends their Wit.) Where 'twas enacted Treason, not to own Hers and her Sanedrins right to place the Crown. But her weak Heads oth' Church, mistaken fools, Wanted the Light of their sublimer Schools: For Divine Right could no such Forces bring. } But Wisdom now expands her wider Wing, } And Streams are ever deeper than the Spring. } Besides, they've sense of Honour; and who knows How far the Gratitude of Priest-craft goes? And what if now like old _Elisha_ fed, To praise the Sooty Bird that brought 'em Bread, In pure acknowledgment, though in despight Of their own sense, they paint the Raven White.

_Achitophel_ charm'd with kind Fortunes Smiles, Flusht with Success, now glows for bolder Toyls. Great Wits perverted greatest Mischiefs hold, As poysonous Vapors spring from Mines of Gold. And proud to see himself with Triumph blest, Thus to great _Absolom_ himself addrest.

Illustrious Terrour of the World, all hayle: For ever like your Conquering Self prevaile. In spight of Malice in full Luster shine; Be your each Action, Word, and Look Divine, Nay, though our Altars you've so long forborne; To your derided Foes Defeat, and Scorne, For your Renown we have those Trumpets found, Shall ev'n this Deed your highest Glory sound. That spight of the ill-judging Worlds mistake, Your Soul still owns those Temples you forsake: Onely by all-commanding Honour driven, This self-denial you have made with Heav'n: Quitting our Altars, cause the Insolence Of prophane Sanedrims has driven you thence. A Prince his Faith to such low Slaves reveal! 'Twas Treason though to God to bid You kneel. And what though senseless barking Murmurers scold, } And with a Rage too blasphemously bold, } Say _Israels_ Crown's for _Esau_'s Pottage sold. } Let 'em rayl on; and to strike Envy dumb; May the Slaves live till that great Day shall come, When their husht Rage shall your keen Vengeance fly, And silenc'd with your Royal Thunder dye. Nay, to outsoar your weak Fore-fathers Wings, And to be all that Nature first meant Kings; Damn'd be the Law that Majesty confines, But doubly damn'd accursed Sanedrins, Invented onely to eclipse a Crown. Oh throw that dull Mosaick Land-mark down. The making Sanedrims a part of Pow'r, Nurst but those Vipers which its Sire devour. Lodg'd in the Pallace tow'rds the Throne they press, For Pow'rs Enjoyment does its Lust increase. Allegiance onely is in Chains held fast; Make Men ne're thirst, is ne're to let 'em tast. Then, Royal Sir, be Sanedrims no more, Lop off that rank Luxurious Branch of pow'r: Those hungry _Scions_ from the _Cedar_ root, That its Imperial Head towards Heav'n may shoot. When Lordly Sanedrims with Kings give Law, And thus in yokes like Mules together draw; From _Judahs_ Arms the Royal Lyon raze, And _Issachars_ dull Ass supply the place. If Kings o're common Mankind have this odds, Are Gods Vicegerents; let 'em act like Gods. As Man is Heav'ns own clay, which it may mould For Honour or Dishonour, uncontrould, And Monarchy is mov'd by Heav'nly Springs; Why is not Humane Fate i'th' Breath of Kings? Then, Sir, from Heav'n your great Example take, And be th'unbounded Lord a King should make: Resume what bold Invading Slaves engrost, And onely Pow'rs Effeminacy lost.

To this kind _Absolom_ but little spoke; Onely return'd a Nod, and gracious Look. For though recorded Fame with pride has told, Of his great Actings, Wonders manifold; And his great Thinkings most Diviners guess; Yet his great Speakings no Records express.

All things thus safe; and now for one last blow, To give his Foes a total Overthrow; A Blow not in Hells Legends match'd before, The remov'd Plot's laid at the Enemies door. The old Plot forg'd against the Saints of _Baal_, Cheat, Perjury, and Subornation all, Whilst with a more damn'd Treason of their own, Like working Moles they're digging round the Throne; _Baal_, _Baal_, the cry, and _Absolom_ the Name, But _Davids_ glory, Life and Crown the Aim. Nay, if but a Petition peep abroad, Though for the Glory both of Church and God, And to preserve even their yet unborn Heirs; There's Blood and Treason in their very Prayers. This unexampled Impudence upheld; The Governments best Friends, the Crowns best Sheild, The Great and Brave with equal Treason brands. Faith, Honour, and Allegiance strongest Bands All broken like the Cords of _Sampson_ fall, Whilst th'universal Leprosie taints all. These poysonous shafts with greater spleen they draw, Than the Outragious Wife of _Potypha_. So the chast _Joseph_ unseduc'd to her Adult'ries, was pronounc'd a Ravisher.

This hellish Ethnick Plot the Court alarms; The Traytors seventy thousand strong in Arms, Near _Endor_ Town lay ready at a Call, And garrison'd in Airy Castles all. These Warriours on a sort of Coursers rid, Ne'r log'd in Stables, or by Man bestrid. What though the steele with which the Rebels fought, No Forge e're felt, or Anvile ever wrought? Yet this Magnetick Plot, for black Designs, Can raise cold Iron from the very Mines. To this were twenty Under-plots, contriv'd By Malice, and by Ignorance believ'd, Till Shamms met Shamms, and Plots with Plots so crost, That the True Plot amongst the False was lost.

Of all the much-wrong'd Worthies of the Land Whom this Contagious Infamy profan'd, In the first Rank the youthful _Ithream_ stood, His Princely Veins fill'd with great _Davids_ Blood. With so much Manly Beauty in his Face, Scarce his High Birth could lend a Nobler Grace. And for a Mind fit for this shrine of Gold Heaven cast his Soul in the same Beauteous Mould; With all the sweets of Prideless Greatness blest, As Affable as _Abrahams_ Angel-Guest. But when in Wars his glittering Steel he drew, No Chief more Bold with fiercer Lightning flew: Witness his tryal of an Arm Divine, Passing the Ordeal of a _Burning Mine_: Such forward Courage did his Bosome fill, Starting from nothing, but from doing ill. Still with such Heat in Honours Race he run, } Such Wonders by his early Valour done, } Enough to charm a second _Joshua's_ Sun. } But he has Foes; his fatal Enemies } To a strange Monster his Fair Truth disguise; } And shew the Gorgon even to Royal Eyes. } To their false perspectives his Fate he owes, The spots i'th' Glass, not in the Star it shows. Yet when by the Imperial Sentence doom'd, The Royal Hand the Princely Youth unplum'd, He his hard Fate without a Murmur took, And stood with that Calm, Duteous, Humble look. Of all his shining Honours unarray'd, Like _Isaac's_ Head on _Abrahams_ Altar lay'd. Yes, _Absolom_, thou hast him in the Toyl, Rifled, and lost; now Triumph in the Spoyl. His Zeal too high for _Israels_ Temples soar'd, His God-like Youth by prostrate Hearts ador'd, Till thy Revenge from Spight and Fear began, And too near Heaven took Care to make him Man. Though _Israels_ King, God, Laws, share all his Soul, Adorn'd with all that Heroes can enrol, Yet Vow'd Successions cruel Sacrifice, Great _Judah_'s Son like _Jeptha_'s Daughter dies. Yes, like a Monument of Wrath he stands; Such Ruine _Absolons_ Revenge demands; His Curiosity his Doom assign'd: For 'twas a Crime of as destructive Kind, To pry how _Babylons_ Burning Zeal aspires, As to look back on Sodoms blazing Fires. But spoyl'd, and rob'd, his drossier Glories gone, His Virtue and his Truth are still his own. No rifling Hands can that bright Treasure take, Nor all his Foes that Royal Charter shake.

The dreadful'st Foe their Engines must subdue, The strongest Rock through which their Arts must hew, Was great _Barzillai_: could they reach his Head, Their Fears all husht, they had strook Danger dead. That second _Moses_-Guide resolv'd to free Our _Israel_ from her threatning Slavery, Idolatry and Chains; both from the Rods Of _Pharoh_-Masters, and _Egyptian_ Gods: And from that Wilderness of Errour freed, Where Dogstars scorch, and killing Serpents breed: That _Israels_ Liberty and Truth may grow, The _Canaan_ whence our Milk and Honey flow. Such our _Barzillai_; but _Barzillai_ too, With _Moses_ Fate does _Moses_ Zeal pursue: Leads to that Bliss which his own Silver Hairs Shall never reach, Rich onely to his Heirs. Kind Patriot, who to plant us Banks of Flow'rs, With purling Streams, cool Shades, and Summer Bow'rs, His Ages needful Rest away does fling, Exhausts his Autumn to adorn our Spring: Whilst his last hours in Toyls and Storms are hurl'd, And onely to enrich th'inheriting World. Thus prodigally throws his Lifes short span, To play his Countries generous Pelican. But oh, that all-be-devill'd Paper, fram'd No doubt, in Hell; that Mass of Treason damn'd; By _Esau_'s Hands, and _Jacobs_ Voice disclos'd; And timely to th' Abhorring World expos'd. Nay, what's more wondrous, this wast-paper Tool, A nameless, unsubscrib'd, and useless scrowl, Was, by a Politician great in Fame, (His Chains foreseen a Month before they came) Preserv'd on purpose, by his prudent care, To brand his Soul, and ev'n his Life ensnare. But then the Geshuritish Troop, well-Oath'd, And for the sprucer Face, well-fed, and Cloath'd. These to the Bar Obedient Swearers go, With all the Wind their manag'd Lungs can blow. So have I seen from Bellows brazen Snout, The Breath drawn in, and by th'same Hand squeez'd out. But helping Oaths may innocently fly, When in a Faith where dying Vows can lye. Were Treason and Democracie his Ends, Why was't not prov'd by his Revolting Friends? Why did not th'Oaths of his once-great Colleagues, _Achitophel_ and the rest prove his Intreagues? Why at the Bar appear'd such sordid scum, And all those Nobler Tongues of Honour dumb? Could he his Plots t'his great Allies conceal, He durst to leaky Starving Wretches tell; Such Ignorant Princes, and such knowing Slaves; His _Babel_ building Tools from such poor Knaves. Were he that Monster his new Foes would make Th'unreasoning World beleive, his Soul so black, That they in Conscience did his Side forego, Knowing him guilty they could prove him so. Then 'twas not Conscience made 'em change their side. Or if they knew, yet did his Treasons hide; In not exposing his detested Crime, They're greater Monsters than they dare think Him. Are these the Proselites renown'd so high, Converts to Duty, Honour, Loyalty? Poorly they change, who in their change stand mute: Converts to Truth ought Falsehood to confute. To conquering Truth, they but small glory give, Who turn to God, yet let the Dagon live.

But who can _Amiels_ charming Wit withstand, The great State-pillar of the Muses Land. For lawless and ungovern'd, had the Age The Nine wild Sisters seen run mad with Rage, Debaucht to Savages, till his keen Pen Brought their long banisht Reason back again, Driven by his Satyres into Natures Fence, And lasht the idle Rovers into Sense. Nay, his sly Muse, in Style Prophetick, wrot The whole Intrigue of _Israels_ Ethnick Plot; Form'd strange Battalions, in stupendious-wise, Whole Camps in Masquerade, and Armies in disguise. _Amiel_, whose generous Gallantry, whilst Fame Shall have a Tongue, shall never want a Name. Who, whilst his Pomp his lavish Gold consumes, Moulted his Wings to lend a Throne his Plumes, Whilst an Ungrateful Court he did attend, Too poor to pay, what it had pride to spend.

But, _Amiel_ has, alas, the fate to hear, An angry Poet play his Chronicler; A Poet rais'd above Oblivions Shade, By his Recorded Verse Immortal made. But, Sir, his livelier Figure to engrave, With Branches added to the _Bays_ you gave: No Muse could more Heroick Feats rehearse, Had with an equal all-applauding Verse, Great _Davids_ Scepter, and _Sauls_ Javelin prais'd: A Pyramide to his Saint, _Interest_, rais'd. For which Religiously no Change he mist, } From Common-wealths-man up to Royalist: } Nay, would have been his own loath'd thing call'd _Priest_. } Priest, whom with so much Gall he does describe, 'Cause once unworthy thought of _Levies_ Tribe. Near those bright Tow'rs where Art has Wonders done, } Where _Davids_ sight glads the blest Summers Sun; } And at his feet proud _Jordans_ Waters run; } A Cell there stands by Pious Founders rais'd, Both for its Wealth and Learned _Rabbins_ prais'd: To this did an Ambitious Bard aspire, To be no less than Lord of that blest Quire: Till Wisdom deem'd so Sacred a Command, A Prize too great for his unhallow'd Hand. Besides, lewd Fame had told his plighted Vow, To _Laura's_ cooing Love percht on a dropping Bough _Laura_ in faithful Constancy confin'd To _Ethiops_ Envoy, and to all Mankind. _Laura_ though Rotten, yet of Mold Divine; He had all her Cl--ps, and She had all his Coine. Her Wit so far his Purse and Sense could drain, Till every P--x was sweetn'd to a Strain. And if at last his Nature can reform, A weary grown of Loves tumultuous storm, 'Tis Ages Fault, not His; of pow'r bereft, He left not Whoring, but of that was left.

But wandring Muse bear up thy flagging Wing: To thy more glorious Theme return, and sing Brave _Jothams_ Worth, Impartial, Great, and Just, Of unbrib'd Faith, and of unshaken Trust: Once _Geshurs_ Lord, their Throne so nobly fill'd, As if to th'borrow'd Scepter that he held, Th'inspiring _David_ yet more generous grew, And lent him his Imperial _Genius_ too. Nor has he worn the Royal Image more In _Israels_ Viceroy, than Embassador: Witness his Gallantry that resolute hour, When to uphold the Sacred Pride of Pow'r, His stubborn Flags from the _Sydonian_ shore, The angry storms of Thundring Castles bore. But these are Virtues Fame must less admire, Because deriv'd from that Heroick Sire, Who on a Block a dauntless Martyr dy'd, With all the Sweetness of a Smiling Bride; Charm'd with the Thought of Honours Starry Pole, With Joy laid down a Head to mount a Soul.

Of all the Champions rich in Honours Scarrs, Whose Loyalty through _Davids_ ancient Wars, (In spight of the triumphant Tyrants pride,) Was to his lowest Ebb of Fortune ty'd; No Link more strong in all that Chain of Gold, Then _Amasai_, the Constant, and the Bold. That Warlike General whose avenging Sword, Through all the Battles of his Royal Lord, Pour'd all the Fires that Loyal Zeal could light, No brighter Star in the lost _Davids_ night.

No less with Laurels _Ashurs_ Brows adorn, That mangled Brave who with _Tyres_ Thunder torn, Brought a dismember'd Load of Honour home, And lives to make both th'Earth and Seas his Tomb.

With Reverence the Religious _Helon_ treat, Refin'd from all the looseness of the Great. _Helon_ who sees his Line of Virtues run } Beyond the Center of his Grave, his own } Unfinisht Luster sparkling in his Son. } A Son so high in Sanedrims renown'd, In _Israels_ Intrest strong, in Sense profound. Under one Roof here Truth a Goddess dwells, } The Pious Father builds her Shrines and Cells, } And in the Son she speaks her Oracles. }

In the same list young _Adriels_ praise record, _Adriel_ the Academick Neighbour Lord; _Adriel_ ennobled by a Grandfather, And Unkle, both those Glorious Sons of War: Both Generals, and both Exiles with their Lord; Till with the Royal Wanderer restored, They lived to see his Coronation Pride; Then surfeiting on too much Transport dy'd. O're _Adriels_ Head these Heroes Spirits shine, His Soul with so much Loyal Blood fenc'd in; Such Native Virtues his great Mind adorn, Whilst under their congenial Influence born.

In this Record let _Camries_ Name appear, The Great _Barzillai_'s Fellow Sufferer; From unknown Hands, of unknown Crimes accus'd, Till th'hunted Shadow lost, his Chains unloos'd.

Now to the Sweet-tongu'd _Amrams_ praise be just, Once the _State-Advocate_, that Wealthy Trust, Till Flattery the price of dear-bought Gold, His Innocence for Pallaces unfold, To Naked Truths more shining Beauties true, Th'Embroiderd Mantle from his Neck he threw.

Next _Hothriel_ write, _Baals_ watchful Foe, and late _Jerusalems_ protecting Magistrate; Who, when false Jurors were to Frenzy Charm'd, And against Innocence even Tribunals arm'd, Saw deprav'd Justice ope her Ravenous Jaw, And timely broke her Canine Teeth of Law.

Amongst th'Asserters of his Countries Cause, Give the bold _Micah_ his deserv'd Applause, The Grateful Sanedrims repeated Choice, Of Two Great Councels the Successive Voice. Of that old hardy Tribe of _Israel_ borne, Fear their Disdain, and Flattery their Scorne, Too proud to truckle, and too Tough to bend.

Of the same Tribe was _Hanan, Ithreams_ Friend, From that fam'd Sire, the Long Robes Glory, sprung, In Sanedrims his Countries Pillar long; Long had he fadom'd all the Depths of State; } Could with that strength, that ponderous Sense debate, } As turn'd the Scale of Nations with the weight: } Till subtley made by Spightful Honour Great, Prefer'd to _Israels_ Chief Tribunal Seat, Made in a higher Orb his Beams dispense, To hush his Formidable Eloquence.

But _Israels_ numerous Worthies are too long And Great a Theam for one continued Song. Yet These by bold flagitious Tongues run down, Made all Conspirers against _Davids_ Crown.

Nay, and there was a Time, had Hell prevail'd, Nor Perjury and Subornation fail'd, When a long List of Names, for Treason doom'd, Had _Israels_ Patriots in one Grave entomb'd: A List, with such fair Loyal Colours laid, Even to no less than Royal Hands convey'd. And the great Mover in this pious Fraud, A Dungeon Slave redeem'd by'a Midnight Bawd: Then made by Art a Swearer of Renown, Nurst and embrac'd by th'Heir of _Judahs_ Crown: Encourag'd too by Pension for Reward, With his forg'd Scrowls for Guiltless Blood prepared. Poor Engine for a greatness so sublime: } But oh, a Cause by which their _Baal_ must climb, } Ennobles both the Actor and the Crime. }

Yet This, and all Things else now quite blown o're, And _Absolom_, his _Israels_ Fear no more: Luster and Pride shall hem his radiant Brow; All Knees shall fall, and prostrate Nations bow. By Heav'ns, he is, he will, he must, he shall Be _Israels_ Heroe, Friend, Saint, Idol, all. What though provok'd with all the crying sins Of Murmuring Slaves, excluding Sanedrins: By profane Crowds in dirt his Prophets spurn'd, And ev'n his Gods in mock Processions burn'd: Himself from _Israel_ into _Hebron_ sent, And doom'd to little less than Banishment. In spight of all his Scrowls to _Babylon_; } And all the promis'd Wonders to be done, } When _Egypts_ Frogs should croak on _Judahs_ Throne. } Though of a Faith that propagates in Blood; Of Passions unforgiving, less withstood Then Seas and Tempests, and as Deaf as they. } Yet all Divine shall be his Godlike Sway, } And his calm Reign but one long _Halcyon_ Day. } And this Great Truth he's damn'd that dares deny; } 'Gainst _Absolom_ even Oracles would lye, } Though Sense and Reason Preach 'tis Blasphemy. } Then let out dull Mistaken Terrour cease, When even our Comets speak all Health and Peace.

_FINIS._

ERRATA.

[Transcriber's Note:

The author's Errata list was printed at the bottom of the page in a
single block of small type, heavily smudged and not always legible.
In at least one case, the requested change appears to be what the text
already says. For these reasons, changes listed have _not_ been made.
The text of each complete line is given in brackets.]

The Reader is desired to Correct these following Mistakes.

Page 1. line 12. for _Hold_, read _Held_.
[Hold but their Crowns at his Almighty Will.]
p. 4. l. 22. r. _Ships_;
[_Dan_ from her Ship, and _Asher_ on the Shore.]
ibid. l. 26. for _Kindl'd_ r. _Bank'd_;
[Kindl'd their embattel'd Fires for _Deborah's_ Wars,]
ibid. l. 32. r. _the Mighty_;
[The Mighty _Deborah's_, God's, and _Israel's_ Foes.]
ibid. l. 37 for _they_ r. _thus_;
[Thus sung, they conquer'd _Deborah_; thus fell]
p. 7. l. 18. for _poor_, r. _weak_;
[Preach to poor Female half-Soul'd Proselytes.]
p. 9. l. 3. & 4. for _his_ r. _a_;
[What Knees, what Necks to mount him to his Throne;
What Gems, what Stars to sparkle in his Crown?]
l. 6. for _the_, r. _ye_;
[But oh the Pow'rs, by treacherous snakes beguil'd,]
ibid. l. 20. r. _Walls; the Billows pour_;
[Down crack the Chrystal Walls the Billows pow'r,]
p. 12. l. 11. r. _lov'd Israel_;
[That still in its Lord _Israel_ takes delight,]
p. 19. l. 27. for _loo_ r. _race_ [illegible, possibly "rate"]
[To loo the Bloodhounds off to save the Plot.]
p. 22. l. 10. r. _Excluding_.
[Th'encluding Sanedrims Resolves once shake;]

[Additional errors and anomalies noted by transcriber:

(Title, after dedication)
Absalom Senior
_catchword on previous page has "Abso-"_
Whilst th'universal Drones buz to his Hives.
_apostrophe missing_
If this last Masterpiece requires a Soul.
_"f" ("If") invisible_
The Uppermost, indisputably Best.
_text reads "indsputably"_
This final Resolution made, at last
_line printed after break, but not indented_
But t'Heavens Vice-gerents, Soul, Sense, Reason, all,
_the word "vice-gerent" occurs twice_
Why did not th'Oaths of his once-great Colleagues,
_apostrophe missing_
Th'Embroiderd Mantle from his Neck he threw.
_apostrophe missing_
By profane Crowds in dirt his Prophets spurn'd,
_apostrophe invisible_ ]

* * * * *

Poetical Reflections
on a Late

POEM

Entituled,
Absalom and Achitophel.

_By a Person of Honour._

[Decoration]

_LONDON:_
Printed for _Richard Janeway_. 1681.

TO THE READER.

If ever anything, call'd a _Poem_, deserv'd a severe Reflection, that of _Absalom_ and _Achitophel_ may justly contract it. For tho' Lines can never be purg'd from the dross and filth they would throw on others (there being no retraction that can expiate the conveying of persons to an unjust and publick reproach); yet the cleansing of their fames from a design'd pollution, may well become a more ingenious Pen than the Author of these few reflections will presume to challenge.

To epitomize which scandalous Phamphlet (unworthy the denomination of _Poesy_) no eye can inspect it without a prodigious amazement; the abuses being so gross and deliberate, that it seems rather a Capital or National Libel, than personal exposures, in order to an infamous detraction. For how does he character the King, but as a broad figure of scandalous inclinations, or contriv'd unto such irregularities, as renders him rather the property of Parasites and Vice, than suitable to the accomplishment of so excellent a Prince? Nay, he forces on King _David_ such a Royal resemblance, that he darkens his sanctity in spite of illuminations from Holy Writ.

Next (to take as near our King as he could) he calumniates the Duke of _Monmouth_ with that height of impudence, that his Sense is far blacker than his Ink, exposing him to all the censures that a Murderer, a Traytor, or what a Subject of most ambitious evil can possibly comprehend: and it is some wonder, that his Lines also had not hang'd him on a Tree, to make the intended _Absalom_ more compleat.

As to my Lord _Shaftsbury_ (in his collusive _Achitophel_), what does he other than exceed Malice it self? or that the more prudent deserts of that Peer were to be so impeach'd before hand by his impious Poem, as that he might be granted more emphatically condign of the Hangman's Ax; And which his Muse does in effect take upon her to hasten.

And if the season be well observ'd, when this Adulterate Poem was spread, it will be found purposely divulg'd near the time when this Lord, with his other Noble Partner, were to be brought to their Tryals. And I suppose this Poet thought himself enough assur'd of their condemnation; at least, that his _Genius_ had not otherwise ventur'd to have trampled on persons of such eminent Abilities, and Interest in the Nation. A consideration, I confess, incited my Pen (its preceding respect being paid to the Duke of _Monmouth_) to vindicate their Reputations where I thought it due.

And some are not a little mistaken in their judgments of persons, if any Kingdom has at this time Two men of their Dignity, of more extraordinary Understandings: Which may (if well consider'd) be some inducement to their future preservation and esteem. As I have endeavour'd chiefly to clear their abuse, so I have pass'd divers considerable persons, under as malign inclinations of this Author's; conceiving, that what I have said for the Principals, may remove such smaller prejudices as are on the value of others on the same concern.

His most select and pecuniary Favourites, I have but barely touch'd, in respect his praise includes a concomitant reprehension, if well apprehended. Besides, I was unwilling to discourage any, that for the future may desire to be admir'd by him according to their liberality. A method, that perhaps may in time set up some Merchants of _Parnassus_, where the _Indies_ of Fame seem lately discover'd, and may be purchas'd _per Centum_, according to modern example.

As to the Character of _Amiel_, I confess my Lines are something pointed, the one reason being, that it alludes much to a manner of expression of this Writer's, as may be seen by the marginal Notes; and a second will be soon allowed. The figure of _Amiel_ has been so squeez'd into Paint, that his soul is seen in spite of the Varnish.

And none will deny, but it is as easie to send Truth backward, as it is to spur Falsities egregiously forward, and might have caus'd any Asse, as knowing as _Balaam_'s, to have rebuk'd such a Poet as will needs prophecy against the sense of Heaven and Men. But I have enough of this _Amiell_, as well as of his Muse, unless that by his means it occasions a further account. And for what is mine here, It will at worst contract censure, in respect it is a brief reflection on a very large Libel. And tho' I believe it did not cost (tho' that be not offer'd for an excuse) the tenth part of the time of the other. As to my Preface, I was willing that he should find, that this smaller work has some Nose.--Tho' I am no more bound to have my Face known by it, than he is willing to obscure his by a Nameless Preamble.

[Asterisks used as side/footnote references are from the original
text.]

Poetical Reflections
ON A POEM,

CALLED
Absolon and Achitophel.