Selected quad for the lemma: scripture_n
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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