Chapter XIV: Introduction: To Henry King (5)

Indeed we cannot less from such expect,
Who for this work of ruin are elect:
This scum drawn from the worst, who never knew
The fruits which from ingenuous breeding grew;
But take such low commanders on their lists,
As did revolted Jeroboam priests: 210
That 'tis our fate, I fear, to be undone,
Like Egypt once with vermin overrun.
If in the rabble some be more refin'd,
By fair extractions of their birth or mind,
Ev'n these corrupted are by such allays,
That no impression of their virtue stays.
As gold, embased by some mingled dross,
Both in its worth and nature suffers loss.

Else, had that sense of honour still surviv'd
Which Fairfax from his ancestors deriv'd, 220
He ne'er had show'd himself, for hate or fear,
So much degen'rous from renowned Vere
(The title and alliance of whose son
His acts of valour had in Holland won),
As to give up, by his rash dooming breath,
This precious pair of lives to timeless death;
Whom no brave enemy but would esteem,
And, though with hazard of his own, redeem.
For 'tis not vainly by the world surmis'd,
This blood to private spleens was sacrific'd. 230
Half of the guilt stands charg'd on Whalley's score
By Lisle affronted on his guards before;
For which his spite by other hands was shown,
Who never durst dispute it with his own.
Twice guilty coward! first by vote, then eye,
Spectator of the shameful tragedy.
But Lucas elder cause of quarrel knew,
From whence his critical misfortune grew;
Since he from Berkeley Castle with such scorn
Bold Ransborough's first summons did return, 240
Telling him loudly at the parley's beat,
With rogues and rebels he disdain'd to treat.

Some from this hot contest the world persuade
His sleeping vengeance on that ground was laid:
If so, for ever blurr'd with Envy's brand,
His honour gain'd by sea, was lost at land:
Nor could he an impending judgement shun,
Who did to this with so much fervour run,
When late himself, to quit that bloody stain,
Was, 'midst his armed guards, from Pomfret slain. 250
But all in vain we here expostulate
What took them hence, private or public hate:
Knowledge of acted woes small comforts add,
When no repair proportion'd can be had:
And such are ours, which to the kingdom's eyes
Sadly present ensuing miseries,
Foretelling in These Two some greater ill
From those who now a patent have to kill.
Two, whose dear loss leaves us no recompense,
Nor them atonement, which in weight or sense 260
With These shall never into balance come,
Though all the army fell their hecatomb.
Here leave them then; and be 't our last relief
To give their merit value in our grief.
Whose blood however yet neglected must
Without revenge or rites mingle with dust;
Not any falling drop shall ever dry,
Till to a weeping spring it multiply,
Bath'd in whose tears their blasted laurel shall
Grow green, and with fresh garlands crown their fall. 270

From this black region then of Death and Night,
Great Spirits, take your everlasting flight:
And as your valour's mounting fires combine,
May they a brighter constellation shine
Than Gemini, or than the brother-stars,
Castor and Pollux, fortunate to wars;
That all fair soldiers, by your sparkling light,
May find the way to conquer, when they fight,
And by those patterns which from you they take,
Direct their course through Honour's Zodiac: 280
But upon traitors frown with dire aspect,
Which may their perjuries and guilt reflect;
Unto the curse of whose nativity,
Prodigious as the Caput Algol be,
Whose pale and ghastly tresses still portend
Their own despair or hangman for their end.
And that succeeding ages may keep safe
Your lov'd remembrance in some Epitaph,
Upon the ruins of your glorious youth,
Inscribed be this monumental truth: 290
Here lie the valiant Lucas and brave Lisle,
With Amasa betray'd in Joab's smile:
In whom, revenge of Honour taking place,
His great corival 's stabb'd in the embrace.
And as it was the Hebrew Captain's stain,
That he two greater than himself had slain,
_Shedding the blood of War in time of Peace_,
When love pretended was, and arms did cease,
May the foul murderers expect a fate
Like Joab's, blood with blood to expiate; 300
Which, quick as lightning, and as thunder sure,
Preventions wisest arts nor shun, nor cure.
O may it fall on their perfidious head!
That when, with Joab to the Altar fled,
Themselves the sword and reach of vengeance flee,
No Temple may their sanctuary be.

Last, that nor frailty nor devouring time
May ever lose impressions of the crime,
Let loyal Colchester (who too late tried
To check, when highest wrought, the Rebels' pride, 310
Holding them long and doubtful at the bay,
Whilst we, by looking on, gave all away),
Be only nam'd: which, like a Column built,
Shall both enhearse this blood unnobly spilt,
And live, till all her towers in rubbish lie,
The monuments of their base cruelty.

[_Elegy on Sir Charles Lucas, &c._] This, King's
longest poem (except the _King Charles_), shows, like
the preceding, a vigour which might have made him a very
formidable political satirist. If he has not Cleveland's wit
he is free from Cleveland's abuse of it. The subject is again
a well-known one. No impartial authority denies that the
execution of Lucas and Lisle was one of the worst blots on
that side of the record of the Rebellion, and perhaps the only
unforgivable act of Fairfax. Whether he was actuated, as the
Royalists generally believed, by a mean personal spite, or
allowed himself to be the tool of Ireton, matters uncommonly
little; and his own 'Vindication' contains statements
demonstrably false. However, as usual in revolutions, the
curse came home, and the Colchester 'Septemberings' (as
they would actually have been had the New Style prevailed in
England) were undoubtedly as much instrumental as anything,
next to the execution of the King himself, in turning the
national sentiment against the perpetrators. The _bracketed_
notes that follow are, as usual, original.]

[Line: 31 [Sir George Lisle at Newbury charged in his shirt,
and routed them.] This was the _second_ battle of Newbury,
October 27, 1644: he was knighted at Oxford, December 21,
1645.]

[Line: 49 friend] [Patroclus.]]

[Line: 60 Mercy] Fairfax in his own 'Vindication' admits the
'snare'. 'Delivering upon Mercy is to be understood that
some are to suffer, the rest to go free.' In other words, the
garrison might take 'mercy' to mean 'quarter', but Fairfax
took it to mean 'discretion'.]

[Line: 64 Orig. 'President', as often printed, though of
course no scholar like King would deliberately write it.]

[Line: 66 [Famagosta, defended most valiantly by Signior
Bragadino in the time of Selimus II, was upon honourable
terms surrendered to Mustapha the Bashaw, who, observing no
conditions, at his tent murdered the principal commanders,
invited thither under show of love, and flayed Bragadine
alive.] This siege of Famagosta in 1571, which came just
before, and may be said to have been revenged by, Lepanto,
greatly affected the mind of Christendom, and is duly
chronicled in Knolles, the chief English historical writer of
King's day. It is therefore hardly necessary to suppose,
with Hannah, that the note was abridged from George Sandys'
_Travels_, though King and Sandys were certainly friends.]

[Lines: 82, 85 I would have left the capitals for the 'Yous'
in these lines, as I have already done in other places,
because they not improperly further emphasize that emphatic
use of the pronoun in different parts of the line which Dryden
afterwards perfected. But unfortunately they are not uniformly
used, or even in the majority of cases--which shows how
utterly haphazard and irrational this capitalization was.]

[Line: 105 [The Swedes hired anno 1644, to invade the King of
Denmark, provided to assist his nephew, the King of England.]]

[Line: 115 Hopkins] Hannah only knew for a certainty that the
scoundrel Matthew was 'swum' for a wizard, and had to put
a 'probably' as to his being executed. There seems to be
no doubt (see _D.N.B._) that the great and glorious 'Herb
Pantagruelion' had its own, and that Hopkins was hanged in
1647, before the date of this poem. But in that distracted
time King, like his editor, may easily have been unaware of
it.]

[Line: 117 An early literary use of 'cad' for assistant or
understrapper.]

[Line: 142 Instead of 'for' Hannah, who very seldom meddled
with his text, suggested 'from'. The temptation is obvious,
but I think 'for' is possible, and therefore preferable as
_lectio difficilior_.]

[Line: 160 Military Justice] [See the letter sent to Edward
Earl of Manchester, Speaker of the House of Peers, _pro
tempore_, from T. Fairfax, dated August 29, 1648, at Hieth.]
According to Royalist accounts there were, even in Parliament,
speakers bold enough and impartial enough to object to this
letter, and to give voice to the common belief that the
execution was either an act of private vengeance, or a
deliberate affront to the King, or a device to make the
pending negotiations with him impossible. It must be
remembered that it was three months before the 'Purge' had
deprived the Commons of the last remnant of independence or
representative quality.]

[Line: 170 petty tyrannies] [Wat Tyler and his complices'
design was to take away the King and chief men, and to erect
petty tyrannies to themselves in every shire. And already one
Littistar, a dyer, had taken upon him in Norfolk the name of
King of Commons, and Robert Westborn in Suffolk, Richard
II, anno 1381. _Speed._] This note from Speed is not exactly
quoted and Hannah corrected it, but the variations are of no
importance.]

[Line: 176 There is no doubt about the selling of prisoners as
convict-slaves to the West Indies (if not, as Rigby proposed,
to Algiers) by the Roundheads after the second Civil War.
Unluckily James II--born in this and other cases to be the
curse of English Royalism--took the reproach away from the
other side by authorizing the practice after Sedgmoor.]

[Line: 179 The particular bearer of this name of evil repute
in Parliamentary history was Alexander Rigby (1594-1650). He
had a brother, Joseph, whose politics were as bad as his own,
but who survived the Restoration, and seems to have had a
touch of the 'crank' in him. I have not yet come across his
_Drunkard's Prospective_ (1656), but it should be agreeable.]

[Line: 183 The savagery of the two-to-one victors at
Naseby--especially towards the hapless so-called 'Irishwomen'
camp followers--is beyond question, but it does not seem
proved that there was much selling of prisoners then. As for
St. Fagan's in the second Civil War the case is different, and
justifies the following note in the original: 'At St. Fagan's
in Glamorganshire, near Cardiff, the Welsh unarmed were taken
in very great numbers, and sold for twelve pence apiece
to certain merchants, who bought them for slaves to their
plantations.']

[Line: 188 aspers] A Turkish coin of the smallest value: the
120th part of a piastre or dollar.]

[Line: 201 murd'rous crew] [Grimes, now a Captain, formerly
a tinker at St. Albans, with his own hand killed four of the
prisoners, being not able for faintness to go on with the
rest, of which number Lieutenant Woodward was one. Likewise
at Thame, and at Whateley ( = Wheatley), some others were
killed.] This story is backed up by not a few similar ones
in different accounts of the time. And indeed, as King very
cogently goes on to argue, your tinker-captain is capable of
anything.]

[Line: 222 It was Sir Horace Vere (1565-1635), afterwards Lord
Vere of Tilbury, under whom Fairfax served, and whose daughter
Anne he married.]

[Line: 231 Whalley (spelt, as often with the name, Whaley in
printed original) is cleared by others, though he is said
by them as by King to have been present and to have had
some private grudge against Lisle. Lucas had not only thrown
Fairfax's troops into disorder at Marston Moor but is said
by some to have actually wounded him in the face. He had also
held Berkeley Castle against Rans- or Ra_in_sborough till
the outworks were taken, and the guns turned from them on
the Castle itself. Rainsborough, with Whalley and Ireton,
was actually present at the execution--which as a duty could
hardly be incumbent on all three, and with which they were
often reproached; and as a matter of course Rainsborough's
death shortly afterwards was counted as a 'judgement'. His
father had been an officer in the Navy, and the son commanded
both by sea and land.]

[Line: 284 Algol] A star of great but varying brightness, the
name of which--'The _ghoul_'--and its position in the head of
Medusa in the constellation Perseus, explains the text.]

[Line: 311 long and doubtful] Fairfax, to enhance his exploit,
called it 'four months close siege'. It was actually not
quite eleven weeks, but the place yielded to nothing but
starvation.]

_An Elegy upon the most Incomparable King Charles the First._

Call for amazed thoughts, a wounded sense
And bleeding hearts at our intelligence.
Call for that Trump of Death, the Mandrake's groan
Which kills the hearers: this befits alone
Our story which through times vast Calendar,
Must stand without example or repair.
What spouts of melting clouds, what endless springs
Pour'd in the Ocean's lap for offerings,
Shall feed the hungry torrent of our grief,
Too mighty for expression or belief? 10
Though all those moistures which the brain attracts
Ran from our eyes like gushing cataracts,
Or our sad accents could out-tongue the cries
Which did from mournful Hadadrimmon rise,
Since that remembrance of Josiah slain
In our King's murder is reviv'd again.
O pardon me that but from Holy Writ
Our loss allows no parallel to it:
Nor call it bold presumption that I dare
Charles with the best of Judah's Kings compare: 20
The virtues of whose life did I prefer
The text acquits me for no flatterer.
For he like David perfect in his trust,
Was never stain'd like him, with blood or lust.
One who with Solomon in judgement tried,
Was quick to comprehend, wise to decide
(That even his Judges stood amaz'd to hear
A more transcendent mover in their sphere),
Though more religious: for when doting love
Awhile made Solomon apostate prove, 30
Charles ne'er endur'd the Truth which he profest,
To be unfix'd by bosom-interest.
Bold as Jehosaphat, yet forc'd to fight,
And for his own, no unconcerned right.
Should I recount his constant time of pray'r,
Each rising morn and ev'ning regular,
You'd say his practice preach'd, 'They ought not eat
Who by devotion first not earn'd their meat:'
Thus Hezekiah he exceeds in zeal,
Though not (like him) so facile to reveal 40
The treasures of God's House, or His own heart,
To be supplanted by some foreign art.
And that he might in fame with Joash share
When he the ruin'd Temple did repair,
His cost on Paul's late ragged fabric spent
Must (if no other) be His monument.
From this survey the kingdom may conclude
His merits, and her losses' magnitude:
Nor think he flatters or blasphemes, who tells
That Charles exceeds Judea's parallels, 50

[Sidenote:--_Sparguntur in omnes,
In te mista fluunt_--Claudian.]

In whom all virtues we concentred see
Which 'mongst the best of them divided be.
O weak-built glories! which those tempests feel!
To force you from your firmest bases reel,
What from the strokes of Chance shall you secure,
When rocks of Innocence are so unsure?
When the World's only mirror slaughter'd lies,
Envy's and Treason's bleeding sacrifice;
As if His stock of goodness could become
No kalendar, but that of martyrdom. 60
See now, ye cursed mountebanks of State,
Who have eight years for reformations sate;

[Sidenote: _Call'd the Council of Troubles._]

You who dire Alva's counsels did transfer,
To act his scenes on England's theatre;
You who did pawn yourselves in public faith
To slave the Kingdom by your pride and wrath;
Call the whole World to witness now, how just,
How well you are responsive to your trust,
How to your King the promise you perform,
With fasts, and sermons, and long prayers sworn, 70
That you intended Peace and Truth to bring
To make your Charles _Europe's most glorious King_.

[Sidenote: _The form of taking the Covenant_, June 1643.]

Did you for this _Lift up your hands on high_,
To kill the King, and pluck down Monarchy?
These are the fruits by your wild faction sown,
Which not imputed are, but born your own:
For though you wisely seem to wash your hands,
The guilt on every vote and order stands;
So that convinc'd, from all you did before,
Justice must lay the murder at your door. 80
Mark if the body does not bleed anew,
In any circumstance approach'd by You,
From whose each motion we might plain descry
The black ostents of this late tragedy.
For when the King, through storms in Scotland bred,
To his Great Council for his shelter fled,
When in that meeting every error gain'd
Redresses sooner granted than complain'd:
Not all those frank concessions or amends
Did suit the then too powerful faction's ends: 90
No acts of Grace at present would content,
Nor promise of Triennial Parl'ament,
Till by a formal law the King had past
This Session should at Your pleasure last.

So having got the bit, and that 'twas known
No power could dissolve You but Your own,
Your graceless Junto make such use of this,

[Sidenote: _Diodorus Siculus_, lib. 2.]

As once was practis'd by Semiramis;
Who striving by a subtile suit to prove
The largeness of her husband'[s] trust and love, 100
Did from the much abused King obtain
That for three days she might sole empress reign;
Before which time expir'd, the bloody wife
Depriv'd her lord both of his crown and life.
There needs no comment when your deeds apply
The demonstration of her treachery.
Which to effect, by Absolon's foul wile
You of the people's heart your prince beguile;
Urging what eases they might reap by it
Did you their legislative Judges sit. 110
How did you fawn upon, and court the rout,
Whose clamour carried your whole plot about?
How did you thank seditious men that came
To bring petitions which yourselves did frame?
And lest they wanted hands to set them on,
You led the way by throwing the first stone.
For in that libel after midnight born,
Wherewith your faction labour'd till the morn,

[Sidenote: _Remonstrance of the State of the Kingdom_,
Dec. 15, 1641.]

That famous lie, you a Remonstrance name;
Were not reproaches your malicious aim? 120
Was not the King's dishonour your intent,
By slanders to traduce his Government?
All which your spiteful cunning did contrive;
Men must receive through your false perspective,
In which the smallest spots improved were,
And every mote a mountain did appear.
Thus Caesar by th' ungrateful Senate found
His life assaulted through his honour's wound.
And now to make Him hopeless to resist,

[Sidenote: _Ord._ Feb. 29, _Voted_ March 15.]

You guide his sword by vote, which as you list 130
Must strike or spare (for so you did enforce
His hand against His reason to divorce

[Sidenote: _The Navy seiz'd_ Mar. 28, 1642.]

Brave Strafford's life), then wring it quite away
By your usurping each Militia:

[Sidenote: _The London Tumults_, Jan. 10, 1641.]

Then seize His magazines, of which possest
You turn the weapons 'gainst their master's breast.
This done, th' unkennell'd crew of lawless men
Led down by Watkins, Pennington, and Venn,
Did with confused noise the Court invade;
Then all Dissenters in both houses bay'd. 140
At which the King amaz'd is forc'd to fly,
The whilst your mouth's laid on maintain the cry.
The Royal game dislodg'd and under chase,
Your hot pursuit dogs Him from place to place:
Not Saul with greater fury or disdain
Did flying David from Jeshimon's plain
Unto the barren wilderness pursue,
Than cours'd and hunted is the King by you.
The mountain partridge or the chased roe
Might now for emblems of His fortune go, 150
And since all other May-games of the town
(Save those yourselves should make) were voted down,
The clam'rous pulpit hollaes in resort,
Inviting men to your King-catching sport.
Where as the foil grows cold you mend the scent
By crying Privilege of Parliament,
Whose fair pretensions the first sparkles are,
Which by your breath blown up enflame the war,
And Ireland (bleeding by design) the stale
Wherewith for men and money you prevail. 160
Yet doubting that imposture could not last,
When all the Kingdom's mines of treasure waste,
You now tear down Religion's sacred hedge
To carry on the work by sacrilege;
Reputing it Rebellion's fittest pay
To take both God's and Caesar's dues away.
The tenor of which execrable vote
Your over-active zealots so promote,
That neither tomb, nor temple could escape,
Nor dead nor living, your licentious rape. 170
Statues and grave-stones o'er men buried

[Sidenote: * _At Basing-Chapel, sold_ Dec. 29, 1643.]

Robb'd of their brass, the * coffins of their lead;
Not the seventh Henry's gilt and curious screen,
Nor those which 'mongst our rarities were seen,

[Sidenote: * _At Winchester._]

The * chests wherein the Saxon monarchs lay,
But must be basely sold or thrown away.
May in succeeding times forgotten be
Those bold examples of impiety,
Which were the Ages' wonder and discourse,
You have their greatest ills improv'd by worse. 180

[Sidenote: _Lactant._ l. 2, c. 4.]

No more be mention'd Dionysius' theft,
Who of their gold the heathen shrines bereft;
For who with Yours his robberies confer,
Must him repute a petty pilferer.

[Sidenote: _Julian, Praefectus Aegypti. Theodoret_. l. 3, c. 11.]

Nor Julian's scoff, who when he view'd the state
Of Antioch's Church, the ornaments and plate,
Cried, Meaner vessels would serve turn, or none
Might well become the birth of Mary's Son:

[Sidenote: ibid.]

Nor how that spiteful Atheist did in scorn
Piss on God's Table, which so oft had borne 190
The Hallow'd Elements, his death present:

[Sidenote: _Ganguin_. l. 6.]

Nor he that foul'd it with his excrement,
Then turn'd the cloth unto that act of shame,
Which without trembling Christians should not name.

Nor John of Leyden, who the pillag'd quires
Employ'd in Munster for his own attires;
His pranks by Hazlerig exceeded be,
A wretch more wicked and as mad as he,

[Sidenote: _The Carpet belonging to the Communion Table of
Winchester Cathedral_, Dec. 18, 1642. _Adrian Emp._]

Who once in triumph led his sumpter moil
Proudly bedecked with the Altar's spoil. 200
Nor at Bizantium's sack how Mahomet
In St. Sophia's Church his horses set.
Nor how Belshazzar at his drunken feasts
Carous'd in holy vessels to his guests:
Nor he that did the books and anthems tear,
Which in the daily Stations used were.
These were poor essays of imperfect crimes,
Fit for beginners in unlearned times,
Siz'd only for that dull meridian
Which knew no Jesuit nor Puritan 210
(Before whose fatal birth were no such things
As doctrines to depose and murder kings).
But since your prudent care enacted well,
That there should be no King in Israel,
England must write such annals of your reign
Which all records of elder mischiefs stain.
Churches unbuilt by order, others burn'd;
Whilst Paul's and Lincoln are to stables turn'd;
And at God's Table you might horses see
By (those more beasts) their riders manger'd be, 220

[Sidenote: _At Winchcomb in Gloucestershire._]

Some kitchens and some slaughter-houses made,
Communion-boards and cloths for dressers laid:
Some turn'd to loathsome goals, so by you brought
Unto the curse of Baal's house, a draught.
The Common Prayers with the Bibles torn,
The copes in antic Moorish dances worn,
And sometimes, for the wearer's greater mock,
The surplice is converted to a frock,
Some, bringing dogs, the Sacrament revile,
Some, with Copronymus, the Font defile. 230
O God! canst Thou these profanations like?
If not, why is Thy thunder slow to strike
The cursed authors? who dare think that Thou
Dost, when not punish them, their acts allow.
All which outrageous crimes, though your pretence
Would fasten on the soldiers' insolence,
We must believe, that what by them was done
Came licens'd forth by your probation.
For, as yourselves with Athaliah's brood
In strong contention for precedence stood, 240

[Sidenote: _Whitehall, Windsor_, Feb. 3, 1643.]

You robb'd two Royal Chapels of their plate,
Which Kings and Queens to God did dedicate;
Then by a vote more sordid than the stealth,
Melt down and coin it for the Commonwealth,
That is, giv't up to the devouring jaws
Of your great Idol Bel, new styl'd The Cause.
And though this monster you did well devise
To feed by plunder, taxes, loans, excise;
(All which provisions You the people tell
Scarce serve to diet Your Pantagruel). 250
We no strew'd ashes need to trace the cheat,
Who plainly see what mouths the messes eat.
Brave Reformation! and a through one too,
Which to enrich yourselves must all undo.
Pray tell us (those that can), What fruits have grown
From all Your seeds in blood and treasure sown?
What would you mend? when Your projected State
Doth from the best in form degenerate?
Or why should You (of all) attempt the cure,
Whose facts nor Gospel's test nor Law's endure? 260
But like unwholesome exhalations met
From Your conjunction only plagues beget,
And in Your circle, as imposthumes fill
Which by their venom the whole body kill;
For never had You pow'r but to destroy,
Nor will, but where You conquer'd to enjoy.
This was Your master-prize, who did intend
To make both Church and Kingdom's prey Your end.
'Gainst which the King (plac'd in the gap) did strive
By His (till then unquestion'd) negative, 270
Which finding You lack'd reason to persuade,
Your arguments are into weapons made;
So to compel him by main force to yield,

[Sidenote: _E. of Essex Army_, Aug. 1 1642.]

You had a formed army in the field
Before his reared standard could invite
Ten men upon his Righteous Cause to fight:
Yet ere those raised forces did advance,

[Sidenote: _The Standard at Nottingham_, Aug. 25, 1642.]

Your malice struck him dead by Ordinance,
When your Commissions the whole Kingdom swept
With blood and slaughter, _Not the King except_. 280
Now hard'ned in revolt, You next proceed
By pacts to strengthen each rebellious deed,

[Sidenote: June 27, 1643.]

New oaths and vows, and Covenants advance,
All contradicting your allegiance,
Whose sacred knot you plainly did untie,

[Sidenote: _Declaration and Resolution of Parl._, Aug. 15, 1642.]

When you with Essex _swore to live and die_.
These were your calves in Bethel and in Dan,
Which Jeroboam's treason stablish can,
Who by strange pacts and altars did seduce
The people to their laws' and King's abuse; 290
All which but serve like Shibboleth to try
Those who pronounc'd not your conspiracy;
That when your other trains defective are,
Forc'd oaths might bring refusers to the snare.
And lest those men your counsels did pervert,
Might when your fraud was seen the Cause desert,
A fierce decree is through the Kingdom sent,
Which made it death for any to repent.
What strange dilemmas doth Rebellion make?
'Tis mortal to deny, or to partake: 300
Some hang who would not aid your traitorous act,

[Sidenote: _History of English and Scottish Presbytery_, p. 320.]

Others engag'd are hang'd if they retract.
So witches who their contracts have unsworn,
By their own Devils are in pieces torn.
Thus still the raging tempest higher grows,
Which in extremes the King's resolvings throws.
The face of Ruin everywhere appears,
And acts of outrage multiply our fears;
Whilst blind Ambition by successes fed
Hath You beyond the bound of subjects led, 310
Who tasting once the sweet of regal sway,
Resolving now no longer to obey.
For Presbyterian pride contests as high
As doth the Popedom for supremacy.
Needs must you with unskilful Phaeton
Aspire to guide the chariot of the Sun,
Though your ill-govern'd height with lightning be
Thrown headlong from his burning axle-tree.

[Sidenote: _The 19 Propos._]

You will no more petition or debate,
But your desire in Propositions state, 330
Which by such rules and ties the King confine,
They in effect are summons to resign.
Therefore your war is manag'd with such sleight,
'Twas seen you more prevail'd by purse than might;
And those you could not purchase to your will,
You brib'd with sums of money to sit still.
The King by this time hopeless here of peace,
Or to procure His wasted People's ease,
Which He in frequent messages had tried,
By you as oft as shamelessly denied; 330
Wearied by faithless friends and restless foes,
To certain hazard doth His life expose:

[Sidenote: April 27, 1646. May 5, 1646.]

When through your quarters in a mean disguise
He to His countrymen for succour flies,
Who met a brave occasion then to save
Their native King from His untimely grave:
Had he from them such fair reception gain'd,
Wherewith ev'n Achish David entertain'd:
But faith to Him or hospitable laws
In your Confederate Union were no clause, 340
Which back to you their rend'red Master sends
To tell how He was us'd among his friends.
Far be it from my thoughts by this black line
To measure all within that warlike clime;
The still admir'd Montrose some numbers led
In his brave steps of loyalty to tread.
I only tax a furious party there,
Who with our native pests enleagued were.
Then 'twas you follow'd Him with hue and cry,
Made midnight searches in each liberty, 350

[Sidenote: _This Order publish'd by beat of Drum_, May 4, 1646.]

Voting it Death to all without reprieve,
Who should their Master harbour or relieve.
Ev'n in pure pity of both Nations' fame,
I wish that act in story had no name.
When all your mutual stipulations are
Converted at Newcastle to a fair,
Where (like His Lord) the King the mart is made,
Bought with Your money, and by them betrayed;
For both are guilty, they that did contract,
And You that did the fatal bargain act. 360
Which who by equal reason shall peruse,
Must yet conclude, they had the best excuse:
For doubtless they (good men) had never sold,
But that you tempted them with English gold;
And 'tis no wonder if with such a sum
Our brethren's frailty might be overcome.
What though hereafter it may prove their lot
To be compared with Iscariot?
Yet will the World perceive which was most wise,
And who the nobler traitor by the price; 370
For though 'tis true both did themselves undo,
They made the better bargain of the two,
Which all may reckon who can difference
Two hundred thousand pounds from thirty-pence.
However something is in justice due,
Which may be spoken in defence of You;
For in your Master's purchase you gave more,
Than all your Jewish kindred paid before.
And had you wisely us'd what then you bought,
Your act might be a loyal ransom thought, 380
To free from bonds your captive sovereign,
Restoring Him to his lost Crown again.
But You had other plots, your busy hate
Plied all advantage on His fallen state,
And show'd You did not come to bring Him bail,
But to remove Him to a stricter gaol,
To Holmby first, whence taken from His bed,
He by an army was in triumph led;
Till on pretence of safety Cromwell's wile
Had juggl'd Him into the Fatal Isle, 390
Where Hammond for his jailor is decreed,
And murderous Rolf as lieger-hangman fee'd,
Who in one fatal knot two counsels tie,
He must by poison or by pistol die.
Here now denied all comforts due to life,
His friends, His children, and his peerless wife;
From Carisbrook He oft but vainly sends,
And though first wrong'd, seeks to make you amends;
For this He sues, and by His restless pen
Importunes Your deaf ears to treat again. 400
Whilst the proud faction scorning to go less,

[Sidenote: Jan. 3, 1647. Jan. 9, 1647.]

Return those trait'rous votes of Non Address,
Which follow'd were by th' Armies thund[e]ring
To act without and quite against the King.
Yet when that cloud remov'd, and the clear light
Drawn from His weighty reasons, gave You sight
Of Your own dangers, had not their intents

[Sidenote: _Colchester Siege._]

Retarded been by some cross accidents;
Which for a while with fortunate suspense
Check'd or diverted their swoll'n insolence: 410
When the whole Kingdom for a Treaty cried,
Which gave such credit to Your falling side,

[Sidenote: June 30, 1648. _Treaty Voted_, July 28, 1648.]

That you recall'd those votes, and God once more
Your power to save the Kingdom did restore;
Remember how Your peevish Treators sate,
Not to make peace, but to prolong debate;
How You that precious time at first delay'd,
And what ill use of Your advantage made,
As if from Your foul hands God had decreed
Nothing but war and mischief should succeed. 420
For when by easy grants the King's assent
Did your desires in greater things prevent,
When He did yield faster than You entreat,
And more than modesty dares well repeat;
Yet not content with this, without all sense
Or of His honour or His conscience,
Still you press'd on, till you too late descried,
Twas now less safe to stay than be denied:
For like a flood broke loose the armed rout,
Then shut Him closer up, and shut You out, 430
Who by just vengeance are since worried
By those hand-wolves You for his ruin bred.
Thus like two smoking firebrands, You and They
Have in this smother chok'd the Kingdom's day:
And as you rais'd them first, must share the guilt,
With all the blood in those distractions spilt.
For though with Sampson's foxes backward turn'd
(When he Philistia's fruitful harvest burn'd),
The face of your opinions stands averse,
All your conclusions but one fire disperse; 440
And every line which carries your designs,
In the same centre of confusion joins.
Though then the Independents end the work,
'Tis known they took their platform from the Kirk;
Though Pilate Bradshaw with his pack of Jews,
God's High Vice-gerent at the bar accuse;
They but reviv'd the evidence and charge,
Your pois'nous Declarations laid at large;
Though they condemn'd or made his life their spoil,
You were the setters forc'd him to the toil: 450
For you whose fatal hand the warrant writ,
The prisoner did for execution fit;
And if their axe invade the Regal throat,
Remember you first murder'd Him by vote.
Thus they receive your tennis at the bound,
Take off that head which you had first un-crown'd;
Which shows the texture of our mischiefs clew,
If ravell'd to the top, begins in You,
Who have for ever stain'd the brave intents
And credit of our English Parliaments: 460
And in this one caus'd greater ills, and more,
Than all of theirs did good that went before.
Yet have You kept your word against Your will,
Your King is great indeed and glorious still,
And you have made Him so. We must impute
That lustre which His sufferings contribute
To your preposterous wisdoms, who have done
All your good deeds by contradiction:
For as to work His peace you rais'd this strife,
And often shot at Him to save His life; 470
As you took from Him to increase His wealth,
And kept Him pris'ner to secure His health;
So in revenge of your dissembled spite,
In this last wrong you did Him greatest right,
And (cross to all You meant) by plucking down
Lifted Him up to His Eternal Crown.
With this encircled in that radiant sphere,
Where thy black murderers must ne'er appear;
Thou from th' enthroned Martyrs' blood-stain'd line,
Dost in thy virtues bright example shine. 480
And when thy darted beam from the moist sky
Nightly salutes thy grieving people's eye,
Thou like some warning light rais'd by our fears,
Shalt both provoke and still supply our tears,
Till the Great Prophet wak'd from his long sleep,
Again bids Sion for Josiah weep:
That all successions by a firm decree
May teach their children to lament for Thee.
Beyond these mournful rites there is no art
Or cost can Thee preserve. Thy better part 490
Lives in despite of Death, and will endure
Kept safe in thy unpattern'd Portraiture:
Which though in paper drawn by thine own hand,
Shall longer than Corinthian-marble stand,
Or iron sculptures: There thy matchless pen
Speaks Thee the Best of Kings as Best of Men:
Be this Thy Epitaph; for This alone
Deserves to carry Thy Inscription.
And 'tis but modest Truth (so may I thrive
As not to please the best of thine alive, 500
Or flatter my Dead Master, here would I
Pay my last duty in a glorious lie):
In that admired piece the World may read
Thy virtues and misfortunes storied;
Which bear such curious mixture, men must doubt
Whether Thou wiser wert or more devout.
There live, Blest Relic of a saint-like mind,
With honours endless, as Thy peace, enshrin'd;
Whilst we, divided by that bloody cloud,
Whose purple mists Thy murder'd body shroud, 510
Here stay behind at gaze: apt for Thy sake
Unruly murmurs now 'gainst Heav'n to make,
Which binds us to live well, yet gives no fence
To guard her dearest sons from violence.
But he whose trump proclaims, _Revenge is mine_,
Bids us our sorrow by our hope confine,
And reconcile our Reason to our Faith,
Which in thy Ruin such conclusions hath;
It dares conclude, God does not keep His Word
If _Zimri dies in peace that slew his Lord_. 520

From my sad Retirement
March 11, 1648.

CAROLUS STUART REX ANGLIÆ SECURE CAESUS[1]
VITA CESSIT TRICESSIMO IANUARII.

[_An Elegy upon King Charles the First._] I have
thought it desirable to give this Elegy though Hannah did
not, and though I scarcely myself think it to be King's,
first because it is very little known (it was strange even to
Professor Firth when I asked him about it); secondly, because
the 1664 issue or reissue seems worth completing; but thirdly,
and principally, because it is well worth giving. It seems to
me, in fact, rather too good in a certain way to be King's.
He could write, as we have seen, fairly vigorous couplets of
a kind rather later than this date; but I do not know where he
keeps up such continuous and effective 'slogging' as here. The
Colchester piece, which is the natural parallel, is distinctly
inferior in that respect. There are, moreover, in the piece
some things which I suspect King would not, as well as could
not, have written, and which perhaps influenced Hannah in not
giving it. The close and effective Biblical parallels are not
quite in the Bishop's way in verse, and the clear vigorous
summary of the whole rebellion--dates and facts in margin--is
like nothing else of his that I know. But--his or not his--it
is found with his undoubted work; it is good; and so it shall
be given.

But the reader must not suppose that it has never appeared
except in the 1664 King or before that. While reading for the
present edition I had noticed an entry of a very similar title
in Hazlitt, and on looking the book up in the British Museum
I found it, as I expected, to be identical in all important
respects, putting aside some minor variants and a shorter
title, with 1664. The original (in black border at least
an inch deep) adds: 'Persecuted by two implacable factions,
Imprisoned by the one and murthered by the other, January
30th, 1648.' The final prose clause is the same, and I noticed
no various readings, except merest 'literals'--an occasional
capital for lower case, '-or' for '-our', and the like--which
it did not seem necessary to collate or report exactly.]

[_Title_] As usual, 'Charls' in original.]

[Line: 14 Zechariah xii. 11 compared with 2 Kings xxiii. 29
and 2 Chronicles xxxv. 22-4.]

[Line: 27 This line is slightly ambiguous. At first one takes
'Judges' as referring to the regicide tribunal--and of course
not merely the dignity but the unanswerable logic of Charles's
attitude is admitted. But our elegist would hardly admit that
the King moved in the sphere of his rebellious subjects, so
that it may be a reference to the legally constituted bench of
earlier years--'_his_ Judges' in another sense.]

[Line: 40 See 2 Kings xx, 2 Chronicles xxxii, and Isaiah
xxxix.]

[Line: 45 A little prosaic. Old St. Paul's was being
constantly tinkered: indeed, as is well known from Evelyn's
_Diary_, there were plans for very extensive restoration just
before the Fire.]

[Line: 48 Orig. 'losses', which at the time would stand
equally well for singular and plural genitive.]

[Line: 58 Orig. 'sacrifise', to get a complete ear-rhyme.]

[Line: 61 This apostrophe to the 'cursed mountebanks of State'
is uncommonly vigorous, and much straighter 'hitting from the
shoulder' than King usually manages.]

[Line: 100 Orig. 'husband', without 's, and possibly
intended.]

[Line: 124 perspective] As commonly = 'telescope'.]

[Line: 138 Watkins I know not; Pennington we have seen in
Cleveland; Venn (1586-1650) was John Venn, wool-merchant,
M.P., active rebel, and regicide.]

[Line: 142 This (original) may read, 'Your mouths, laid
on, maintain the cry', which seems most probable; or, 'Your
mouth's [_i.e._ is] laid on "Maintain the cry".']

[Line: 146 1 Samuel xxiii 24. Jeshimon seems to have escaped
Alexander the Concordance-smith.]

[Line: 155 foil] The word in this sense had puzzled me; but
the readers of the Clarendon Press put me literally on it by
reference to _N.E.D._ It means the 'scent' or 'track' of a
hunted animal and occurs in the first sense in Turbervile,
and elsewhere, as well as (figuratively used) in as late and
well-known a place as _Tom Jones_.]

[Line: 199 'Moil'--or rather, more commonly, 'moyle'--is very
common for 'mule' in Elizabethan drama, and is said to be
still dialectic, especially in Devon and Cornwall.]

[Line: 223 'Goal' would seem here to be used as = 'jakes',
though it has been suggested that the common sense of 'jail'
will do.]

[Line: 226 Orig. 'Coaps'.]

[Line: 238 'probation' must here = '_ap_probation'.]

[Line: 246 Orig. 'Idol Bel_l_', which may puzzle for a moment.
Of course the Dragon's companion and Nebo's is meant. The poet
seems indeed rather to have mixed up the monster and the false
god.]

[Line: 250 Here again there seems to be a slight confusion
between Pantagruel and his glorious father.]

[Lines: 265-6 Another uncommonly vigorous couplet.]

[Line: 312 The writer either intended to continue the set
of participles or forgot that he had begun it. But if 'For
Presbyterian ... supremacy' be thrown into parenthesis the
anacoluthon will be mended--after a fashion.]

[Lines: 373-4 Good again; and with a fore-echo of Dryden's
'Shimei' rhythm and swashing blow.]

[Line: 392 lieger-hangman] 'Hangman resident',
house-hangman'.]

[Line: 403 Orig. 'Armies', with the usual choice between
singular and plural genitive or (here) nominative plural.]

[Line: 415 I think it well to keep the form 'Treator'.]

[Line: 430 Pointed, if slightly burlesque.]

[Line: 432 hand-wolves] A dog trained and on the leash was
said to be 'in hand'.]

[Line: 438 Philisti_a_] The letter here is slightly 'smashed'
and the word might be 'Philistins' or 'Philistia's'. It looks
more like the former, but the latter is better, and is said to
be clear in Mr. Thorn-Drury's copies.]

[Line: 444 platform] This is interesting.]

[Line: 492 Portraiture] A reference to the [Greek: Eikôn
Basilikê].]

[Footnote: 1 Orig. C_o_esus.]

Poems in Manuscript.

_A Second Elegy on the Countess of Leinster._

Sleep, precious ashes, in thy sacred urn
From Death and Grave till th' last trump sounds return;
Meanwhile embalm'd in Virtues. Joseph's Tomb
Were fitter for thee, than the Earth's dark womb.
Cease, Friends, to weep; she's but asleep, not dead,--
Chang'd from her husband's, to her mother's, bed;
Or from his bosom into Abram's rather,
Where now she rests, Blest Soul, in such a Father.
Thus Death hath done his best, and worst. His best,
In sending Virtue to her place of rest; 10
His worst, in leaving him, as dead, in life
Whose chiefest Joys were in his dearest Wife.

[_A Second Elegy on the Countess of Leinster._] Hannah found
this in the Pickering MS. 'immediately after' the printed
one _v. supra_. On what other grounds he assigned its subject
I do not know; but both, as noted above, have a most
extraordinary efflorescence of capitals.]

_Epigrams._

I.

Quid faciant leges, ubi sola pecunia regnat? &c.--PETRON.
ARBIT.

To what serve Laws, where only Money reigns?
Or where a poor man's cause no right obtains?
Even those that most austerity pretend,
Hire out their tongues, and words for profit lend.
What's Judgement then, but public merchandise?
And the Court sits, but to allow the price.

II.

Casta suo gladium cum traderet Arria Paeto, &c.--MARTIAL.

When Arria to her Paetus had bequeath'd
The sword in her chaste bosom newly sheath'd;
Trust me (quoth she) My own wound feels no smart;
'Tis thine (My Paetus) grieves and kills my heart.

III.

Qui pelago credit, magno se faenore tollit, &c.--PETRON.
ARBIT.

He whose advent'rous keel ploughs the rough seas,
Takes interest of fate for wealth's increase.
He that in battle traffics, and pitch'd fields,
Reaps with his sword rich harvests, which war yields.
Base parasites repose their drunken heads,
Laden with sleep and wine, on Tyrian beds;
And he that melts in Lust's adult'rous fire,
Gets both reward and pleasure for his hire.
But Learning only, midst this wanton heat,
Hath (save itself) nothing to wear or eat;
Faintly exclaiming on the looser Times,
That value Wit and Arts below their crimes.

IV.

Pro captu lectoris habent sua fata libelli.

The fate of books is diverse as man's sense:
Two critics ne'er shar'd one intelligence.

V.

I would not in my love too soon prevail:
An easy conquest makes the purchase stale.[1]

[_Epigrams._] This little bunch of epigrams is of
no particular value, but being so small may be given for
completeness' sake. The first three Hannah found in both
Pickering and Malone 22 MSS., together with V, which, I
suppose, shocked him so that he did not print it. The _Pro
captu lectoris_, which is the best, is in Malone only.]

[Footnote 1: From a copy most kindly made for me by Mr.
Nichol Smith. It is a harmless enough, and rather neat,
translation of Petronius, _Nolo quod cupio, &c._]

The following group of poems has been printed by Mr. Mason,
the first as authentic, the others as doubtful. He points out
that _The Complaint_ and _On his Shadow_ are autograph, and
written on the same sheet of paper as the lines _Upon the
Untimely Death of J. K._ The text here printed has been
supplied by Mr. Percy Simpson from the original MSS., and the
few textual notes are his. In view of the uncertainty of the
bulk of the matter I [G. S.] have not thought it worth while
to add any annotation of the more general kind. In addition,
Mr. Mason prints a translation of a Latin elegy on Dr.
Spenser, President of Corpus Christi College, Oxford; the
Latin text of this in Rawlinson MS. D. 912, fol. 305 verso, is
in King's autograph, but the translation is not, and moreover
it is so tinkered and changed as to suggest the efforts of a
far from facile, if very conscientious, copyist. This has not
been printed, and only the first of the following poems can
with certainty be ascribed to King.

_Upon the Untimely Death of J. K., first born of HK._

Blessed Spirit, thy infant breath,
Fitter for the quire of saints
Than for mortals here beneath,
Warbles joys, but mine complaints--
Plaints that spring from that great loss
Of thy little self, sad cross.
Yet do I still repair thee by desire
Which warms my benumbed sense, but like false fire.

But with such delusive shapes
Still my pensive thoughts are eased, 10
As birds bating at mock grapes
Are with empty error pleased.
Yet I err not, for decay
Hath but seized thy house of clay,
For lo the lively image of each part
Makes deep impression on my waxy heart.

Thus learn I to possess the thing I want;
Having great store of thee, and yet great scant.
Oh let me thus recall thee, ne'er repine,
Since what is thy fate now, must once be mine. 20

[_Upon the Untimely Death of J. K., &c._] The text
is taken from Rawlinson MS. D. 317 of the Bodleian, fol. 175;
the monogram of the title was used by King. An unsigned
copy is in Harleian MS. 6917 of the British Museum, foll. 96
Verso-97: this omits 'but', l. 8.]

_The Complaint._

Fond, hapless man, lost in thy vain desire;
Thy lost desire
May now retire.
She, like a salamander, in thy flame
Sports with Love's name,
And lives the same,
Unsinged, impenetrably cold.
Sure, careless Boy, thou slep'st; and Death, instead
Of thine, conveyed
His dart of lead. 10
This thou unluckily at her hast sent,
Who now is bent
Not to relent,
Though thou spend all thy shafts of gold.
I prithee filch another fatal dart
And pierce my heart;
To ease this smart,
Strike all my senses dull. Thy force devours
Me and my powers
In tedious hours, 20
And thy injustice I'll proclaim
Or use some art to cause her heat return,
Or whilst I burn
Make her my urn,
Where I may bury in a marble chest
All my unrest.
Thus her cold breast,
If it but lodge, will quench, my flame.

[_The Complaint._] The text is taken from Rawlinson
Poet. MS. D. 317, fol. 161, where it is written, without title
or signature, in King's autograph. There is a copy in Harleian
MS. 6917, fol. 97, entitled _The Complaint_.]

[Line: 4 thy] the _Harl. MS._]

[Line: 21 King originally wrote 'And she thy weakness will
proclaim', and then added the text as an afterthought.]

[Line: 28 will] may _Harl._]

_On his Shadow_

Come, my shadow, constant, true,
Stay, and do not fly me:
When I court thee or would sue,
Thou wilt not deny me.
Female loves I find unkind
And devoid of pity;
Therefore I have changed my mind
And to thee frame this ditty.
Child of my body and that flame
From whence our light we borrow, 10
Thou continuest still the same
In my joy or sorrow.
Though thou lov'st the sunshine best
Or enlightened places,
Yet thou dost not fly, but rest,
'Midst my black disgraces.
Thou wouldst have all happy days
When thou art approaching,
No cloud nor night to dim bright rays
By their sad encroaching. 20
Let but glimmering lights appear
To banish night's obscuring,
Thou wilt show thou harbourd'st near,
By my side enduring;
And, when thou art forced away
By the sun's declining,
Thy length is doubled, to repay
Thy absence whilst he's shining.
As I flatter not thee fair,
So thou art not fading; 30
Age nor sickness can impair
Thy hue by fierce invading.
Let the purest varnished clay
Art can show, or Nature,
View the shades they cast; and they
Grow duskish like thy feature.
'Tis thy truth I most commend--
That thou art not fleeting:
For, as I embrace my friend,
So thou giv'st him greeting. 40
If I strike, or keep the peace,
So thou seem'st to threaten,
And single blows by thy increase
Leave my foe double beaten.
As thou findst me walk or sit,
Standing or down lying,
Thou dost all my postures hit,
Most apish in thy prying.
When our actions so consent--
Expressions dumb, but local-- 50
Words are needless complement,
Else I could wish thee vocal.
Hadst thou but a soul, with sense
And reason sympathising,
Earth could match, nor heaven dispense
A mate so far enticing.
Nay, when bedded in the dust,
'Mongst shades I have my biding,
Tapers can see thy posthume trust
Within my vault residing. 60
Had heaven so pliant women made
Or thou their souls couldst marry,
I'd soon resolve to wed my shade;
This love would ne'er miscarry.
But they thy lightness only share;
If shunned, the more they follow,
And to pursuers peevish are
As Daphne to Apollo.
Yet this experience thou hast taught:
A she-friend and an honour 70
Like thee; nor that nor she is caught,
Unless I fall upon her.

[_On his Shadow._] The text is taken from King's
autograph in Rawlinson Poet D. 317, foll. 173-4: it has
neither heading nor signature. At line 25, the last on this
page of the MS., the catchword reads 'Yet when', which is
slightly more appropriate, but the text continues 'And when'.
There is a copy in Harleian MS. 6917, fol. 97 verso-98,
entitled _On his Shadow._ There are the following variants:]

[Line: 8 frame] framed.]

[Line: 11 still _om._]

[Line: 23 harbourd'st] harbour'st.]

[Line: 26 By] At.]

[Line: 49 so] thus.]

[Line: 55 could] could not (but compare l. 31).]

[Line: 64 would] could.]

_Wishes to my Son, John,_

_For this new, and all succeeding years:_

_January 1, 1630._