when my body is by famine spent And all these woes the more t' augment our Curse Are but sad Prologues to an Act that 's worse Yet though our woes be great and still increase We 're not desirous nor prepar'd for peace But so bewitched with their fawning knavery We bind our selves to an eternall slavery For if that any peacefull Treaties are Those mannage them that have begun the war And how unlikely is 't it should succeed When Malefactors judge and Traytors plead CHAP. XVII THe loyall Subjects mourn and grieve to see The Realm destroy it selfe by policie To prevent ruine and will be as far From blowing as from kindling this our war Not out of cowardise or fear to die But they desire to have a reason why This Realm is not better preserv'd by peace Then by such ruine-bringing wars as these They see no cause so great why 't was begun As now they doe why it should soon be done They love the King in earnest and believe His presence doth a perfect essence give To Parliaments which though they don't adore They duly honour and do wish for more Though not for such and they think them to be If right the Kingdomes sole felicity They think them not omnipotent but be Men Subjects prone to err as well as we They love Religion and don't hold it fit To have it alter'd by each Cockscombs wit They would not have it puppeted with showes Nor rudely stript start naked of its Cloths As if there were no better way to cure A Lethargy but with a Calenture The Surplice which so much is rail'd upon And term'd by some the Whore of Babilon Wise men will not believe 't is so or wer 't Whores smocks will serve to make a Rogue a shirt Or if whores do weare smocks we do not know Why honest people should not weare some too It is not zeale of those that rob us of it But 'cause 't was whorish therefore they do love it Oft Preaching is not counted an offence Least Treason and Sedition flow from thence For it is known they that do Faction teach May what d'ee call 't but neither pray nor preach Good Preachers are as contrary to these As is our Zenith to th' Antipodes Those like not peace that go about to draw The Gospell from agreement with the Law And would have so much difference betwixt These two as 'tween their Doctrine and their Text 'T is our desire to make them friends againe That so the Gospell may the Law maintaine They are though two one Word and should agree As their two Authors in one unitie We hate Court-lazy-Clergy and withall The new State-Levites too pragmaticall We pray for peace the Physick of our Nation Not sprung from Warr but from Accomodation CHAP. XVIII WHy then you tott'ring Bases of our Land Who at this wave-tost Kingdomes Sterne doe stand Why did you first begin why do you still With all your force strive to prolong our ill Can't all our sad Petitions can our charmes Of people groaning under the Alarmes of bloodie broiles nor slaughter'd Subjects cries Move you to end our endlesse miseries Sheath up your Swords and let your quarrells cease Or drown themselves in a desired peace The King and State are individuall And both must needs decay if one do fall They 're like the twins of old Hypocrates Both live together both together cease And what a glorious triumph 't is to see Both Prince and People kisse in Unitie Our God is all-sufficient and as far In peace he 's to be trusted as in war He can as well wisdome bestow and skill To treat as pow'r to fight and as he will Both have successe 'T is man-like to contest By disputation force is for a Beast Those that do save a State from perishing Do truly love the Kingdome and the King And as much honour will to those accrue That save a Kingdome as that gaine a new You that are call'd divine nay Gods why then Do you degenerate to worse then men And have no share of what should in you be The chief of Attributes just Clemency Is 't not as great a glory to forget An injury as take revenge for it The injur'd Subject would be glad to heare That mutuall love might triumph over feare What if we have been injur'd heretofore Must we to help us make our wrongs the more If we were wet before shall we desire No remedy but a consuming fire And can there be no temperate Region knowne Betwixt the Frigid and the Torrid-Zone War is a pleasant Theme to those that do Not what it is nor what it bringeth know But they will get as much that first began These broiles as he that ploughs the Ocean Nothing but stormy Billowes War 's a Play Which both the Stage and Actors will destroy 'T is like an Estridge hot and can digest Men that are valiant men of Iron brest VVould you 've Religion 't is no godly course To write upon mens consciences by force Faith is destroy'd and Love that cemented The Head and Members now from both is fled VVhere 's then our hope God did not hold it good That hands which had bathed themselves in blood Though in a lawfull war should ever build A Temple to his name mens braines are fill'd With Faction so that all who lent a hand To uncreate Religion which did stand Established by Law now each is left To his own fancy how he please to hav 't Now here will be no Church each pate will be A Crosse to Christ a second Calvarie Nor can the earth bring any fruit that 's good When it is dung'd with its own Childrens blood But how melodiously the accents sound Of Peace when full-chapt plenty does rebound And answer like an Eccho Peace is the Nurse of Truth the strength of Lawes Law Truth and Peace are all Synonoma's This is the good mans darling from this springs The wealth of Subjects and the grace of Kings CHAP XIX BUt an unbias'd reason may suppose Which side by th' Sword does prove victorious Will so insult o're his inslaved foe That whatsoever does but make a show Of leaning to 't though in it selfe most good Will without Law or Reason be withstood Which side soe're doth rise by to'thers fall Will still remain too great and that too small And such a victory it selfe will be A greater war a longer miserie For should the King prevail 't is to be fear'd We justly are from Parliaments cashier'd And without those what can we look for lesse Then an untrue or else a slavish peace So while we pole away his naturall power He 's periwig'd with greater then before 'T is the best conquest when the Prince is Lord Of 's peoples hearts by love not by the Sword For what 's the King with a full pow'r to sway When there are left no Subjects to obey And if the war to th' States a conquest brings Have at Prerogatives and pow'r of Kings For
're unjust And negligent giv'n to delight and lust And what 's done there to give the more offence They still interpret in the worser sense In all they make great showes of what they 'l do They 'l hear the poor and help the needy too For in all civill Discords those that are Disturbers alwaies counterfeit the care Of Publike good pretending they will be Protectors of the Peoples Libertie The Priviledge o' th' State the good o' th' King The true Religion yet all 's but to bring Their owne designes about they 'l ruine all That they may rise though the whole Kingdome fall By these delusions us'd with dext'rous Art They drew all factious spirits to their part The childish People gazing at what 's gay Flock to these showes as to a Puppet-Play Like drunken men they this way that way reele And turne their minds as Fortune does her wheele They long for noveltie are pleas'd with showes And few truth from truth-seeming Error knowes Their love like French-mens courage does begin Like powder and goes out as soon 's 't is in The thing or person whom they dearly love Within a moment hate and disapprove They measure every Action by th' event And if they 're crost by some ill accident Whoever serves them nere shall recompence With all his vertuous deeds one slight offence So wretched is that Prince that Church that State That rests upon their love or on their hate They 'l all be Kings and Priests to teach and sway Their Brethren but they can't indure t' obey Nor rule themselves and that 's the only cause Why they 've pluck'd down Religion and the Lawes And yet will settle neither that they might Have faire pretences to make people fight For by this cunning every factious mind Hopes to find that to which he 's most inclin'd They like Miscellionists of all minds bee Yet in no one opinion can agree Their Planet-heads they in Conjunction draw As empty Skulls meet in a Golgotha Each head his severall sence though senslesse all And though their humors by the eares do fall In this they jump to disobey and hate What ere 's injoyn'd them by the Church or State And all strive to be Reformation-men Yet putting out one evill bring in ten CHAP. XV GReat men that would be little Kings did come Some led by discontent b' ambition some Others of ruin'd fortunes but a mind To pomp to sloth and luxury inclin'd Who long'd for civill warres that they might be Instal'd in wealth or we in miserie These bobtail'd Beares would faine like Lyons raign And Clownes would drive or ride in Charles his Wain These by their greatnesse were the heads of Faction The Commons must be hands and feet of Action That must by force defend if they had need Their grand design Thus on their plots succeed All humours stir'd none cur'd jarr yet conspire To be all fuell to begin the fire Some go in wantonnesse to see and some Must go because they cannot stay at home Villaines that from just death could not be free But by the Realms publique calamitie They 're like the Milt which never can increase But by the bodies ruine or disease That with our money must recruit their chests And only in our trouble have their rests Such as in luxury in lust in play Have prodigally thrown their states away Convicted persons Bankerupt Citizens That spend their own and long for other mens Servants which from their Masters hither flee And change their bondage for this libertie Men of high thoughts and of a desp'rate mind Wild Gallants whose vast thoughts were not confin'd To'th' Circle of the Lawes and all whom want Or guilty Conscience made extravagant Flock'd in to make up this new Colonie Where hainous Crimes had got a Jubilee And as in this so 't is in every state Men of low fortunes envy still and hate The good extoll the bad they disapprove All ancient Lawes and novelties do love Disdaine their own estates and envy those Whose wealth above their ruin'd fortune goes These are secure from troubles for they 're poore And come what can they can't be made much more Nor was 't a small incentive to behold How the poor Skowndrells wallowed in Gold How Kingly in their diet and array And how they do their betters daunt and sway To whom they had been vassalls heretofore And been perhaps relieved from their doore This made the Peasant who did work for 's hire Or beg or steal leave ploughing and aspire To imitate the rest as well's he can First steales a horse and then 's a Gentleman A young Phisitian well may guesse th' events Of medicines made of such ingredients For how unlikely is 't things should go right When th' Devills Souldiers for Gods cause do fight 'Mongst these they stole the hearts of some that be True meaning men of zeale and piety Though ignorantly zealous still possest By their strange Doctrine that none could be blest That were not Actors who did neuters stand God would spue out Opposers out of hand Should be cut off No mercy they decreed To th' Enemy though Christ should intercede No pardon but their goods moneys and all As guerdon of their facts to them should fall Wealth pleasure honour that were wont to be The generall spurrs to all Activitie Were largely promis'd unto every one Just as they found his inclination It was esteem'd an ordinary grace For broken Citz to get a Captaines place The wealthy Citizens whose glut'nous eye Gaz'd on the publique faith that Lotterie Though they for feare or shame were loth to do it They 'd cut down Boughs and cry Hosanna to it They brought their plate and money to this Bank Hoping for Prizes but draw forth a Blank Themselves reserve the Prizes and this stands Still gaping like the bottomlesse Quicksands You might track plate like beasts to th' Lyons den How much went in but none came out agen Here was our Primum mobile of woe This was the Mother and the Nurse on 't too Thus many were drawn in But those that were Not mov'd by love were driven on by feare CHAP. VI THe adverse part perceiving their intents Prepar'd them powers for their own defence The Gentry for the basenesse they did do Were quite discountenanc'd and justly too They grew degenerate and Gentility Was but a Nick-Name or a livery Which every wealthy Clown might have and weare And be stil'd Worshipfull They took no care To keep their blood untainted from the stain Of vulgar sordidnesse and so maintain The glory of their Ancestors that be Deriv'd to them from vast eternitie But mixt the Blood that had inrich'd their veines With each ignoble Slave or Trull for gaines Learning wit vertue birth report that be Essentiall bases of Gentilitie Vail'd all to wealth and that 's the Cause we find So many rich in purse so few in mind How many Justices did wealth advance That had nothing to show but ignorance They liv'd like
when the Realm is in confusion run As it must be when ere the war is done The people being victors we shall find As various in desires as they 're in mind They 'l be controlling still and still aspire To limit Legall Pow'r not their desire And when their Votes are granted are as far From b'ing contented with 't as now they are Both King and Magistrate must look to raign No longer then they do their wills maintain And that Great Councell if they did intend Can't bring the stubborn people so to bend T' authority that any King shall sway By fixed Lawes they loyally obey No more then Pilots on the stormy seas Can guide their cap'ring vessells where they please So we like fooles while we do Scylla shun Do headlongly into Charybdis run For if we can't indure t' obey one King What shall we do if we a thousand bring CHAP. XX HOw sad our Case is now how full of woe We may lament but cannot speak or know Our God in whom our peace our plenty lay In whom we liv'd on whom we fixt our stay Who being pleas'd our foes became our friends All their designes conducing to his ends Is highly now incenc'd and will no more Own us for 's people as he did before But hath deliver'd us to th' hands of those That are our Gods our Kings our Kingdomes foes And we 're involved in so many evills That men turn Souldiers and the Souldiers devills 'T is he that all this variance did bring The King 'gainst us and we against the King A King so good so gracious so divine That if 't were possible he doth out-shine The glory of his Ancestors yet he Is bundled up in our Calamitie Better ten thousands of his Subjects fall Then he whose life 's th' Enchiridion of all Our Councell's thwarting and our Clergy heady Gentry divided Commonalty unsteady That alwaies to the rising party run Like shadowes Ecchoes to the shining Sun Religion rent with Shismes a broken State Our government confus'd and those that hate The Realm still undermining those that brought A civill war which all our ill hath wrought The King in danger and the Kingdome roul'd Into inevitable ruine sold Unto her foes Commerce and trade the sinews of a State The bane of poverty growes out of date Learning 's neglected and the Heptarchy Of liberall Arts all unregarded lie Our wealth decaies yet Souldiers still increase The more we fight the farther off from peace United Kingdomes jarring and our foes Laugh at and labour to increase our woes A generall jealousie intestine hate 'Twixt severall Membess of one wretched State Both pretend Peace and Truth yet both oppose Which till both do agree on 't no man knowes Truth is the Child of peace the golden mean 'Twixt two extremes which both sides part from clean The poor that beg'd relief from door to door Are like to pine each rich man to be poor And many Christians are expos'd we see Unto the more then barb'rous Crueltie Of the remorselesse Souldiers who run on Like torrents uncontrolled and are grown Quite prodigall o' th' guiltlesse blood they draw Emboldned by the silence of the Law Streets ring with swearing one oath brings another As if one were the Eccho unto t'other Nor age nor sex nor quality they spare They 're not allur'd by love nor aw'd by feare The Carolists and the Rotunditie Both must be blended in one miserie They rack hang torture men on either side To make them tell where they their gold do hide And lovely Ladies cries do fill the aire While they are drag'd about the house by th' haire Some ravish't others rob'd of their attire Whose naked beauty ' flames their baâ—e desire And when they have deflour'd those spotlesse soules They butcher them Whole Townes calcin'd to coles Children that from their mothers first came hither Are with their mothers by them nail'd together From wounded hearts a bloudy ocean springs The King bleeds in our wounds we in the Kings Slain bodies naked lie and scarce can have A Christian Buriall Kings scarce a grave Nor have we Zoars to fly to from ill But must stay in this Sodome come what will Where we in floating blood surrounded lie Like Islands in a sea of miserie Nor have we either Bulwarkes Forts or Armes To stand betwixt our sences and our harmes But our bare skulls no Trumpets but our cries And those can't help though ease our miseries Complaint 's an easement to a burden'd soule That vents by retaile what we feel in whole So on th' Hydraula's of our dropsi'd eyes We Swan-like sing at our own Obsequies We powre out tears and having spent our store We weep againe 'cause we can weep no more Yet all in vain our griefs do still extend And know no measure nor our sorrowes end Nay which is more those that should help all this Labour to make 't more wofull then it is Peace we may labour for but nere shall see Till men from pride and avarice be free Which since we so desire and cannot find Let 's make a ladder of our peace of mind By which wee 'l skale that Throne where peace doth dwell Roab'd with such joys which none can think nor tell Which neither vice can break nor time decay Nor Schisme nor Treason ever take away O det Deus his quoque finem Postscript To his judicious Friend Mr. J. H. FRIEND I Have anvil'd out this Iron Age Which I commit not to your patronage But skill and Art for till ' â— be fyl'd by you 'T will seem ill-shap't in a judicious view But having past your test it shall not feare The bolt of Criticks â—or their venom'd speare Nay if you think iâ— so I shall be bold To say 't is not an Age of Ir'n but Gold A. C. Eidem HIc Liber est mundus homines sunt Hoskine Versus Invenies paucos hîc ut in orbe bonos Owen Ep. To my Lord Lievtenant of Ireland HOw much you may oblige how much delight The wise and noble would you die to night Would you like some grave sullen Nictor die Just when the Triumphs for the Victorie Are setting out would you die now t' eschew Our Wreaths for what your wisdome did subdue And though they 're bravely fitted for your head Bravely disdain to weare them till you are dead Such Cynick glory would out-shine the light Of Grecian greatnesse or of Roman height Not that the wise and noble can desire To lose the object they so much admire But Heroes and Saints must shift away Their flesh ere they can get a Holy-day Then like to Time or Books feign'd Registers Victors or Saints renown'd in Calenders You must depart to make your value knowne You may be lik't but not ador'd till gone So curst a Fate hath humane excellence That absence still must raise it to our sence Great vertue may be dang'rous whilst 't is here It wins to love but it subdues to feare