Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A53287
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Garnets ghost, addressing to the Jesuits, met in private Caball, just after the murther of Sir Edmund-Bury Godfrey written by the author of The satyr against virtue (not yet printed).
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Oldham, John, 1653-1683.
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1679
(1679)
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Wing O235; ESTC R32248
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5,652
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6
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GARNETS GHOST Addressing to the Jesuits met in private Caball just after THE MURTHER OF Sir Edmund-Bury Godfrey Written by the Author of the Satyr against Virtue not yet Printed BY hell 't was bravely done what less then this What Sacrifice of meaner worth and price Could we have offer'd up for our success So fare all they who dare provoke our hate Who by like ways presume to tempt their fate Fare each like this bold medling fool and be As well cur'd as well dispatch'd as he Would he were here yet warm that we might drain His reeking gore and drink up every vein That were a glorious Sanction much like thine Great Roman made upon a like design Like thine we scorn so mean a Sacrament To seal and consecrate our high intent We scorn base blood should our great league cement Thou didst it with a Slave but we think good To bind our Treason with a bleeding God Would it were His why should I fear to name Or you to hear 't at which we nobly aim Lives yet that hated enemy of our cause Lives he our mighty projects to oppose Can his weak innocence and heavens care Be thought security from what we dare Are ye then Iesuits are you so for nought In all the Catholique depths of Treason taught In Orthodox and solid poysoning read And each profounder Art of killing bred And can you fail or bungle in your trade Shall one poor life your cowardise upbraid Tame dastard slaves who your profession shame And fix disgrace on your great Founders name Think what late Sâ—â—tries and ignoble crew Not worthy to be rank'd in sin with you Inspir'd with lofty wickedness durst do How from his Throne they hurl'd a Monarch down And bravely eas'd him of his life and Crown They scorn'd in Covert their bold Art to hide In open face of Heaven the work they did And dar'd its vengeance and its powers defy'd This is his Son and mortal too like Him Durst you usurp the glory of the crime And dare ye not I know you 〈◊〉 to be By such as they outdone in villanyâ— Your proper province true you urgâ— thâ—n on Were Engins in the â—act but they alone Share all the Open credit and Renown But hold I wrong our Church cause which need No foreign Instance nor what Others did Think on that matchless Assassin whose name We with just pride can make our happy claim He who at killing of an Emperour To give 〈◊〉 poyson stronger force and power Mixt a Gâ—â— with 't and made it work more sure Blest meâ—ory which shall through age to come Stand sâ—â—red in the lists of Hell and Rome Let ouâ— great Clement and Ravillia'cs name Your â—â—irits to like height of sin inflame Those mighty souls who each durst bravely dye To hâ—ve a Royal Ghost their company Herâ—â—â—ck Art and worth their tortures well Wâ—â—â— worth the suffering of a double-hell Thâ—t they felt here and that below they fell Aâ—d if these cannot move you as you shou'd 〈◊〉 me and my example fire your blood â—â—ink what I durst attempt a glorious deed Which durst the fates have suffer'd to succeed â—ad Rivall'd hells most proud exploit and boast â—v'n that which would the King of fates depos'd Curst be that day and nere in time enrold And curst the star whose spightfull influence rul'd The luckless minute which my project spoild What mean't that power which of it self afraid My glory with my brave design betray'd Was 't that he fear'd lest I who strook so high In guilt should next blow up his Realm and sky Or if that fail'd at least I would have durst And missing had got off with Fame at worst Had you but half my daringness in sin Your work had never thus unfinish'd been Had I been Man and the great Act to do I 'ad dy'd by this and been what I am Now Or what his Father is I would leap hell â—o reach his life though in the midst I fell And deeper then before Let rabble souls of narrow aim and reach Stoop their vile necks and dull Obedience preach â—et them with slavish awe disdain'd by me Adore the purple Rag of Majesty And think 't a sacred Relick of the sky Well may such fools be subject to controul â—o every scepter'd wretch that dares but rule Unlike the soul with which proud I was born Who could that sneaking thing a Monarch scorn â—purn off a Crown and set my foot in sport Upon the head that wore it trod in dirt But say what i' st that binds your hands does fear â—rom such a glorious action you deter Or i' st Religion but you sure disclaim That frivolous pretence that empty Name Meer bugbear word devis'd by us to scare The senceless rout to slavishness and fear Nere known to awe the brave and those that dare â—uch weak and feeble things may serve for checks To reign and curb base mettl'd Hereticks Dull creatures whose nice bogling consciences Startle or strain at such like crimes as these Such whom fond inbred honesty befools Or their old musty peice the Bible Gulls That hated book the Bullwark of our foes Whereby they still uphold their tott'ring cause Let no such toys mislead you from the Road Of glory nor infect your souls with good Let never bold incroaching virtue dare With her grim holy face to enter there No not in very dream have only will Like fiends and me to Act and covet Ill. Let true substantial wickedness take place Usurp and reign let it the very trace If any yet be left of good deface If ever qualms of inward cowardice The thing which some dull sots call Conscience rise Make them in streams of blood and slaughter drown Or with new weights of guilt still press them down Faith shame Religion Honour Loyalty Nature it self what ever checks there be To loose and uncontroul'd Impiety Be all extinct in you own no remorse But that you 've balk'd a sin have been no worse Or too much pity shew'd Be diligent in mischiefs trade be each Performing as a devil nor stick to reach At crimes most dangerous where bold despair And heedless blind Revenge would never dare To look March you without a blush or fear Enflam'd by all the hazards that oppose And firm as burning Martyrs to our cause Then you 're true Jesuites then you 're fit to be Disciples of great Loyola and me Worthy to undertake worthy a plot Like this and fit to scourge an Hugenot Plagues on that name may swift confusion seize And utterly blot out that cursed Race Thrice damn'd be your Apostate Monk from whom Sprung first these Enemies of Vs and Rome Whose poysonous filth dropt from ingendring brain By monstrous birth did the vile Insects spawn Which now infect each Countrey and defile With their o'respreading swarms this goodly Isle Once it was ours and subject to our yoke Till a late reigning witch the Enchantment broke It shall again 't is Hell and I decree If