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B05841
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St. Ignatius's ghost, appearing to the Jesuits; upon the King's signing the act against the growth of popery. A satyr.
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1700
(1700)
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Wing S320; ESTC R183184
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5,354
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18
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St. Ignatius's Ghost Appearing to the JESUITS Upon The KING'S Signing the ACT Against The GROWTH OF POPERY A SATYR London Printed for A. Baldwin 1700. St. Ignatius's Ghost Appearing to the JESUITS Upon The KING'S Signing the ACT c. SAD News the Court of Belzebub Alarms And make the Guards of Hell stand to their Arms For Agents which into these Regions fly The Course of Humane Actions to espy Inform the King of Fates he 'll be in Thrall The main Supporters of his Throne do Fall Since new Enacted Laws make you to fly The chiefest place which Harbours Heresy Therefore Ambassador I 'm to you sent The Downfal of my Master to prevent We who I thought could baffle Death and Hell And durst like them against a GOD Rebel From rocky Dangers into Coverts fly It is a Shame to my Society What Planet Envies us We lose o'r Fame And shall be Branded with Eternal Shame You Jesuits and dare not prop o'r Cause For fear of Suffering by English Laws No Blood of Roman Courage fills those Veins Which dare not rush though Prisons Halters Chains The Race of Hereticks to Extirpate And think it Glory if you meet your Fate O! what a Glorious Sight was it to see Poor Massianello frighten Majesty And John of Leyden be a King declar'd Shall we by such mean Fellows be out-dar'd The very Offals Rubbish of Mankind By-casts of Fortune it disturbs my Mind If you will have your Names look Great and swell Big in the Rolls of Fame and Lists of Hell You must be Daring Resolute and Bold By Blood the Sea-Apostolick uphold When you the Sword have altogether Sway'd You 've Careless been a sorry Harvest made Witness when Mary roll'd her Orb in Flames Which strove for Luster with the Sun 's bright Beams But too too little was the waving Blaze To dimn the brightness of his Golden Rays Her Courage for her Highness was too Mean The Off'ring was too much beneath a Queen She flag'd in Fear and buckled to Delay Her Martyr'd Sum for Faggots did not Pay The Twelve-score Number tantaliz'd my Thirst To greater Draughts of Blood I then did Trust A Massacre It Merits not the Name The tim'rous Act 's to Me and Rome a Shame Had I rul'd Hereticks but half her Years Their Bones for want of room had reacht the Spheres The Flames in Smithfield like the Eternal Fire The Persians used never should Expire Till some great Change upon the State had came As Signal to put out the sacred Flame If She a Name Immortal strove to Gain Her Robes She should have Dy'd in deeper Grain A Scarlet much exceeding Pilate's Deed Who made his GOD to please the Rabble Bleed If you true Jesuits intend to be You must in Mischiefs strive to equal Me Under my Banner Revel in such Crimes Which being Chronicled to after times Posterity Unborn may think them feign'd And then the Fame you 've loft will be regain'd Loath Scraps of Sin in Sinning never lag But through unpity'ng Rage your Fury drag Gird Thoughts with Feuds and shew your hot Desire Doth Salamander like reside in Fire The Powder-Plot that greatest Strain of Wit Which English Calendars will ne'er forget A brave Design it was I ca'nt but own Because the aim was at a Lollard's Crown But may the spightsul Star which rul'd that Night And brought a Plot so finely wrought to Light Ne'er shine again be banished the Sky And in Oblivion for ever lye Ah! Heaven I suppose did dread the Blow For fear the next had been their Overthrow Nay had Sucâ—ess but crown'd that high Intent Garnet and I had Storm'd their Element If Jesuits Launch out in Tyranny Do Deeds becoming that great Soul and Me To all the Vices of the World be given And scorn a Friendship to Contract with Heaven Base Murders Falshood Treasons Perjury Deceit Injustice and Hypocrisie The Clymax are by which you must ascend To Grand'ur with these Weapons Hell defend Those Civil Wars which Right did overcome And brought a King to suffer Martyrdome I must acknowledge they were by you made By dressing up y'ur Plots in Masquerade O! had you when those Tumults tore the State Attempted to have met the threatning Fate Perhaps they might have snatcht from both the Realm And brought the Pope once more to sit at Helm In Blood have drowned that infecting Breed Which from apostate Monks did first proceed But Fear or squemish Conscience did deprive Them of that Rage by which great Actions thrive Which Scare-Crows should be chased from the Mind Because repugnant to great Sins design'd Had Alexander boggl'd at his Trade Or in the least a tim'rous Scruple made Of spoiling Crowns on which his Conquests leapt For scarcity of Worlds he had not Wept The Romish Ethicks teach you better things It 's lawful to Depose or Murder Kings The Doctrine's Orthodox and Catholick Therefore in Haesities you need not stick The Tenets Topicks all those sacred Rules You learn at Doway and St. Omer's Schools Do teach you to be Brave in what you act And raise y'ur Glory by a crimson Fact By Crimes which may infernal Hosts affright And startle Heaven at your Sanguine Sight By Fury Brimstone and the Porph'ry Chair That Act which seem'd to Fire all the Air Might be compared to a Deed of mine Tho' ineffect'al to the main Design But yet it made the King of Hell to Smile To see Augusta made a Fun'ral-Pile O Sacred Blaze Had it's surprizing Light But lit o'r Foes to Everlasting Night The Deed o'r Church had made a Sacrament Yet do I consecrate the brave Intent Again I own in that same Monarch's time Whose vast Profuseness deem'd it not a Crime With helpless Orphans Money to maintain Nell Gwin and others Scandals to his Reign Some nobly Acted but a Curse on Oats Or else base Souls had broke through bleeding Throats To Guard a King whose Royal Ghost had been The first great Off'ring for his Country's Sin Whole Hecatombs of Martyrs then had fell A Sacrifice to Popery and Hell But now I 'm trac'd to such a Path of time That I must needs upbraid you with a Crime It was your fault that Fortune cross did run When She was pleas'd the Scale of Fate to turn How faintly you did go about the Cause In taking off the Tests and Penal Laws And shewing something of dispensing Power By sending Stiff-neck Bishops to the Tower All this for Pope nor Devil nothing won Nor Polton's Arguing with Tenison The greatest Wits of Rome must not pretend By Scripture Law or Reason to defend A Church that Grounds her Faith upon a Lie She must maintained be by Cruelty So long as you 'd the great Apostle's Sword You ought not to have scuffled with the Word The Bibles Pillars to their Paper Creed You should have Burn'd made their Admirers Bleed Those Books the Vatican should be expell'd For they too long have Heresy upheld Unking-like Mercy marr'd the hallow's time And Peter's
Bungling added to the Crime He Privy-Councellor and did no more Curst Memory let Cowards it adore Had I been here when Charles had chang'd his State From that blest Min'te fresh Glory I would date I 'd seal'd the sacred Cause with Blood and Wounds Alarum'd Rome with dying Martyrs Sounds My Noble Rage had made her to believe Her greatness from their Ashes I 'd retrieve I 'd deckt the House of Death with bloody Scenes As strangling ravish'd Maids not in the Teens So great had been my Spleen I should deflour Virgins which Lifeless lay besmear'd with Gore Laugh'd at young Infants springing from the Womb To meet their Mothers in a flaming Tomb Vomited Flame upon the reaking Stage Without respect to Greatness Sex or Age Upon their Altars quencht the Heat of Lust And laid their Churches even with the Dust To see my Rage would pity'ng Heaven Weep Yet in the Road of Malice I shall keep I 'd bravely sanctify'd Saint George's Day The Cross by that time should have borne the Sway Since from his Throne a King was tumbled down James should have swam thro' Blood to catch his Crown You Janizaries of the Sulph'rous Lake And let y'r Order's Honour lye at stake You Firebrands and Ingineers of Hell No from the high Preferment you have fell Y'ur Cowardice makes you Degenerate From me y'ur Founder who Quells Hell and Fate Heed not the Sorbonists Theology It's Politicks must buoy Popery O'r League with Blood Cement in Fury rake 'Tween Good and Bad no Criticismes make They 're but the dull Conceits of idle Brains A true-bred Villain God and Man Disdains If in a Plot you are Unfortunate And must y'ur Exit at a Gallows Date Nothing out of inglorious Fear confess That 's prejudicial to his Holiness Seal up y'ur dying Speeches with a Lie Yet God and Angels call to Testify Y'ur Innocence to hide the Villany A Baulk in Plots must urge you to engage The next pitch'd Battle with a greater Rage You who are taught to Spurn at Sovereignty And those profounder Rules of Villany If one Plot 's crusht from Plotting must not cease Like frightful Hydra's Heads they must increase If you with Crimson would Great Brittain Stain With Crimes as black as Hell tempt Fate again Tempt her so often with some Hell-bred Deed That from y'ur Boldness begging to be freed She yields to let y'ur fell Designs succeed Through Furies Devils Blood and Slaughter ride To raise y'ur Mother to her former Pride Great Souls for mean Imployments were not born Therefore th' Impiety of Fortune scorn And if in y'ur Intrigues you can't succeed Hell yet will take the good Will for the Deed. To Jesuits the King of Spirits bows Wherefore y'ur Souls to Villany espouse To begging Fryars Prelates nor Pope Joan Who left an Issue for the Papal Throne Find no Respect we only they adore Because it 's we maintain the Scarlet-Whore To serve Her from no Mischiess have we shrunk With Blood of Holy Saints we 've made her Drunk From our Rise to busy Godfrey's Death With Gore we 've almost stopt the Harlots Breath The Inquisition Butchers we out-brave In murd'ring Hugonets we feed the Grave Ah! if we could but kill their Souls as well As Bodies we should quickly People Hell O! to o'r Glory be it all the Gore With which we have made Far the Gallick Shore The Belgick Coasts in barb'rous Alva's time And when Rage reign'd in the Hybernian Clime Had it but to one solid Mount congeal'd It had been high enough for us t o've scal'd The Lofts of Heav'n the universal Flood Rain'd not more Water than we 've Rained Blood Were but your tim'rous Hearts like mine I dare Attempt to set upon the Prince of Air In deeper Plots than what the Conclave hatch The great Divan of Hell I can out-match Therefore when Time 's no more by Plotting-art His Government I 'll study to subvert And if we fail by force of Arms I 'll try To ruin or usurp his Monarchy Thus Loyola durst Venture If Miss'onary Crews who rove the Earth To give some great Design a Noble Birth The Sophy great Mogul and Prester John Could but Convert the look'd for Work is done With aid from them these Kingdoms of the North I 'd Crush to pieces lead their Monarchs forth As Tâ—â—â—erlain his Captive in a Cage I 'd make them feel the Plagues of Romish rage The worst of all Outrages You as a Tribe which do in Sin excell Stand now for ever Registred in Hell There 's Honour for you will you lose this Fame Ye dastard Wretches for a Coward 's Name No surely through Seditions Treasons wade Make Factions Massacres your common Trade O let a Jesuitick Rage inspire To torture Protestants with Sword and Fire Track Crowns through jelly'd Gore lead Majesty In Chains and hang their Realms with Auarchy Knives Faggots Shackles O those tort'ring Names Set my aetherial Substance all in Flames To use them O I wish me Man again What baleful Streams of Blood my Hands should drain For one day ripping Royal Hearts I dare The Pains of all the fallen Angels bear Undaunted Mutineers of Treachery Spit in the Face of Crowned Majesty Although a Roman if he will not yield To have what you desire be repeal'd Think what you are then for the sake of me Translate the Sov'raign from Mortality With thund'ring Bulls keep Crowned Heads in awe And make what you think fit to be a Law Subjects for murdering their Kings absolve Plagues yet unknown on Hereticks involve Geneva Storm the Drunken Danes Invade Stab Swedes and let the Dutch o'r Slaves be made Do this and then right Jesuits you be Maugre the Shams of Heaven follow me My peerless Courage for a Sample take And then the World you may to pieces shake But hold brave Desperadoes I 'm too rash In one thing my command is somewhat harsh In bidding you to Venture for o'r Cause To Kingdoms which torment with guelding Laws That 's worse than Death to rob you of those Tools With which you aâ—t as Onan in your Schools The Nunneries Seraglio's you make Say Mass by P … edâ— for a Harlot's sake Which I command you â—or and when you burn For want of N … let others serve your turn Ah! I when Humane felt the am'rous Flame All Females kiss'd which to Confession came To Chastity you Swear that 's but a tye From Wedlock not from Whoring privately The Church allows you Strumpets but a Wife Shun as a Bug-bear to a happy Life So for the present Hectors let alone The State of Sweden and the Danish Throne And push Plots forwards in those Countries where You are but only stifled in the Air If unsuccessful that is better than To go where they do Jesuits unman Endeavour to bring England to o'r force Then other Realms will come to us by course Through winged quickness Plotting some times hits So nimbly screw the Engines of your Wits And deepest Thoughts up to the very height Of Envy Malice Fury Rage and Spight To curb this Isle which now hath made such Laws Which may prove dang'rous to the Romish Cause Although the threefold SENATE do agree To stop the Noble Growth of POPERY On such Foundations aim to lay the Land That Reformation shall triumphant stand Yet at their Acts you must not be dismay'd Fear humane Laws and not of GOD afraid It is a Paradox to Hell and Me By slighting both unfold the Mystery So now 's the Time or Never that you must No longer let this Island run in Trust Her Peter-Pence she does forget to pay And Triple Crown she 's bent to disobey O! rescue England from those wicked Hands That Monast'ries dissolve and Abby Lands The Laws as yet do hurt but in Estate Or Life this will not Pop'ry extirpate So quickly rent the Realm in twain for fear The Damn'd Castrating Law should come up here Which if it should the fatal Work is done To save y'ur Stones you 'll all from England run But praying no such Bills may ever pass And that y'ur Plots will here establish Mass I bid you all Farewell I must return To Hell where Ghosts on Rocks of Fire burn FINIS