Anti-Achitophel (1682) Part 10

Great ones he scorn'd to court, nor fools would please, But thought it better for to trust the Seas.

He thought himself far safer in a Storm, And should receive from raging Seas less harm, Than from those dangerous men, who could create A Storm at Land, with Envie and with Hate.

And now got free from all their Trains and Wiles, } He at their hateful Plots and Malice smiles, } Plowing the Ocean for new Honour toils. } These were the chief; a good and faithful Band } Of Princes, who against those men durst stand } Whose Counsel sought to ruine all the Land. } With grief they saw the cursed _Baalites_ bent To batter down the _Jewish_ Government; To pull their Rights and true Religion down, By setting up a _Baalite_ on the Throne.

These wisely did with the _Sanhedrim_ joyn; Which Council by the _Jews_ was thought divine.

The next Successour would remove, 'tis true, Onely because he was a _Baalite_ Jew.

Ills they foresaw, and the great danger found, } Which to the King (as by their Dutie bound) } They shew'd, and open laid the bleeding Wound. } But such who had possest his Royal Ear, Had made the King his Loyal Subjects fear; Did their good Prince with causeless terrour fright, As if these meant to rob him of his Right.

Said, They with other Rebels did combine, And had against his Crown some ill designe: That the wise _Hushai_ laid a wicked Train, And _Azaria_ sought in's stead to reign: That the old Plot to ruine Church and State, Was born from _Hushai_'s and the _Levite_'s Pate: That _Pharisees_ were bold and numerous grown, And sought to place their Elders in his Throne.

No wonder then if _Amazia_ thought These Loyal Worthies did not as they ought; That they did Duty and Obedience want, And no Concessions from the Throne would grant.

They who in _Amazia_'s favour grew, Themselves obnoxious to the People knew.

Some were accused by the _Sanhedrim_, Most Friends and Allies to _Eliakim_: For his Succession eagerly they strove, And him, the rising Sun, adore and love.

When _Doeg_, who with _Egypt_ did combine, And to enslave _Judea_ did designe, Accus'd of Treason by the _Sanhedrim_, Kept in the Tower of _Jerusalem_; The Object prov'd of fickle Fortunes sport, And lost the Honours he possest at Court.

_Elam_ in favour grew, out stript by none, And seem'd a Prop to _Amazia_'s Throne.

He had in foreign parts been sent to School, And did in _Doeg_'s place the Kings thin Treasure rule.

He to _Eliakim_ was neer alli'd; What greater parts could he possess beside?

For the wise _Jews_ believ'd the King did run Some hazard, if he prov'd his Father's Son.

But now, alas! th' Exchequer was grown poor, The Coffers empty, which did once run o're.

The bounteous King had been so very kind, That little Treasure he had left behind.

_Elam_ had gotten with the empty Purse, For his dead Father's sake the Peoples Curse: For they believ'd that no great good could spring From one false to his Country and his King.

_Jotham_ the fickle Shuttle-c.o.c.k of Wit, Was bandied several ways to be made fit: Unconstant, he always for Honour tri'd, At last laid hold upon the rising side.

If Wit he had, 'twas thought, by not a few, He a better thing did want, and Wisdom too.

Then _Amiel_ would scarce give place to him, Who once the chief was of the _Sanhedrim_.

He then appeared for the Crowns defence; But spoke his own, and not the Nations sense.

And tho he praised was by _s.h.i.+mei_'s Muse, The _Jews_ of many Crimes did him accuse.

_Harim_, a man like a bow'd Ninepence bent, Had tried all the ways of Government: Was once a Rebel, and knew how to cant; Then turn'd a very Devil of a Saint: Peevish, morose, and some say, prov'd a fool, When o're the _Edomites_ he went to rule.

When to his bent the King he could not bring, He fairly then went over to the King.

Old _Amalack_, a man of cunning head, Once in the cursed School of Rebels bred; From thence his Maximes and his Knowledge drew, Of old known Arts how to enslave the _Jew_.

For pardon'd Treason, thus sought to atone, Had wrong'd the Father, would misguide the Son.

Once in Religion a strict _Pharisee_, To _Baal_'s then turn'd, or else of none was he.

He long before seem'd to approve their Rites, Marrying his issue to the _Baalites_.

A constant hunter after sordid Pelf; Was never just to any but himself: A very _Proteus_ in all shapes had been, And constant onely, and grown old in sin.

To speak the best of _Amalack_ we can, A cunning Devil in the shape of Man.

_Muppim_, a man of an huge working Pate, Not how to heal, but to embroil the State; Knew how to take the wrong, and leave the right; Was once himself a Rebel _Benjamite_.

To that stiff Tribe he did a while give Law, And with his iron Yokes kept them in aw.

The Tyrant _Zabed_ less did them provoke, And laid upon their necks a gentler Yoke.

Amongst that Tribe he left an hated Name, And to _Jerusalem_ from thence he came, Where he tyrannick Arts sought to intrude, } To learn which, _Amazia_ was too good, } And better the _Jews_ temper understood. } Refus'd, the Serpent did with Woman joyn, And Counsels gave th'_Egyptian_ Concubine.

_Adam_, first Monarch, fell between these two; What can't the Serpent and a Woman do?

These with some more of the like size and sort, In _Sion_ made up _Amazia_'s Court: Whilst his best friends became these Rulers scorn, Saw how they drove, and did in silence mourn.

_Sion_ did then no Sacrifice afford; _Gibbar_ had taught the frugal King to board.

Void were its Cellars, Kitchins never hot, And all the Feasts of _Solomon_ forgot.

Others there were, whose Names I shan't repeat; _Eliakim_ had friends both small and great: And many, who then for his Favour strove, With their hot heads, like furious _Jehu_, drove.

Some Wits, some Witless, Warriors, Rich and Poor, Some who rich Clothes and empty t.i.tles wore; Some who knew how to rail, some to accuse, And some who haunted Taverns and the Stews.

Some roaring Bullies, who ran th'row the Town Crying, G.o.d d.a.m.n 'um, they'd support the Crown: Whose wicked Oaths, and whose blasphemous Rant, Had quite put down the holy zealous Cant.

Some were for War, and some on Mischief bent; And some who could, for gain, new Plots invent.

Some Priests and Levites too among the rest, Such as knew how to blow the Trumpet best: Who with loud noise and cackling, cri'd like Geese, For Rites, for Temple, and for dearer Fleece.

'Twixt G.o.d and _Baal_, these Priests divided were; } Which did prevail, these greatly did not care; } But headlong drove, without or wit or fear. } The _Pharasees_ they curse, as Sons of _Cham,_ And all dissenting _Jews_ to h.e.l.l they d.a.m.n.

_s.h.i.+mei_ the Poet Laureate of that Age, The falling Glory of the _Jewish_ Stage, Who scourg'd the Priest, and ridicul'd the Plot, Like common men must not be quite forgot.

Sweet was the Muse that did his wit inspire, Had he not let his hackney Muse to hire: But variously his knowing Muse could sing, Could _Doeg_ praise, and could blaspheme the King: The bad make good, good bad, and bad make worse, Bless in Heroicks, and in Satyrs curse.

_s.h.i.+mei_ to _Zabed_'s praise could tune his Muse, And Princely _Azaria_ could abuse.

_Zimri_ we know he had no cause to praise, Because he dub'd him with the name of _Bays_.

Revenge on him did bitter Venome shed, Because he tore the Lawrel from his head; Because he durst with his proud Wit engage, And brought his Follies on the publick Stage.

Tell me, _Apollo_, for I can't divine, Why Wives he curs'd, and prais'd the Concubine; Unless it were that he had led his life With a teeming Matron ere _she_ was a Wife: Or that it best with his dear Muse did sute, Who was for hire a very Prost.i.tute.

The rising Sun this Poets G.o.d did seem, Which made him tune's old Harp to praise _Eliakim_.

_Bibbai_, whose name won't in Oblivion rot, For his great pains to hide the _Baalites_ Plot, Must be remembred here: A Scribe was he, Who daily d.a.m.n'd in Prose the _Pharisee_.

With the Sectarian _Jews_ he kept great stir; Did almost all, but his dear self, abhor.

What his Religion was, no one could tell; And it was thought he knew himself not well: Yet Conscience did pretend, and did abuse, Under the notion of Sectarian _Jews_, All that he thought, or all that did but seem Foes to _Baal_'s Rites, _Eliakim_, and him.

He was a man of a pernicious Wit For railing, biting, and for mischief fit: He never slept, yet ever in a Dream; Religion, Law, and State, was all his Theam.

On these he wrote in _Earnest_ and in _Jeast_, Till he grew mad, and turn'd into a Beast, _Zattue_ his Zanie was, Buffoon, and Fool, Who turn'd Religion into Ridicule: Jeer'd at the Plot, did _Sanhedrims_ abuse, Mock'd Magistrates, d.a.m.n'd all Sects of the _Jews_.

Of little Manners, and of lesser Brains; Yet to embroil the State, took wondrous pains.

In jeasting still his little Talent lay; At _Hushai_ scoft in's witless grinning way.

These with the rest, of every size and sort, } Strove to be thought Friends to the King and Court, } With lyes and railing, would the Crown support. } Then in a Pageant shew a Plot was made, And Law it self made War in Masquerade.

But fools they were, not warn'd by former ill, By their own selves were circ.u.mvented still.

They thought by Bloud to give the Kingdom ease; Physick'd the _Jews_ when they had no Disease.

Contingent mischiefs these did not foresee, Against their Conscience fought, and G.o.d's Decree.

What shall we think, when such, pretending good, Would build the Nations Peace on Innocent Blood?

These would expose the People to the Sword Of each unbounded Arbitrary Lord.

But their good Laws, by which they Right enjoy, The King nor could, nor ever would destroy.

And tho he Judge be of what's fit and just, He own'd from Heaven, and from Man a Trust.

Tho Laws to Kingly Power be a Band, They are not Slaves to those whom they command.

The Power that G.o.d at first to _Adam_ gave, Was different far from what all Kings now have: He had no Law but Will; but all Kings now Are bound by Laws, as all Examples show.

By Laws Kings first were made, and with intent Men to defend, by Heav'n's and Man's consent.

G.o.d to the Crown the Regal Power did bring, And by Consent at first, Men chose their King.

If Kings usurp'd a Power, by force did sway, The People by no Law were bound t'obey.

This does not in the People place a Right To dissolve Soveraign sway by force or might.

To Kings, by long succession, there is giv'n A native Right unto the Throne, by Heav'n: Who may not be run down by common Cry, For Vice, Oppression, and for Tyranny.

But if that Kings the tyes of Laws do break, The People, without fault, have leave to speak; To shew their Grievances, and seek redress By lawful means, when Kings and Lords oppress.

Tho they can't give and take, whene'r they please, And Kings allow'd to be G.o.d's Images.

The Government you Tyranny must call, Where Subjects have no Right, and Kings have all.

But if reciprocal a Right there be, Derived down unto Posteritie, That side's in fault, who th'other doth invade, By which soe'r at first the breach is made: For Innovation is a dangerous thing, Whether it comes from People or from King.

To change Foundations which long Ages stood, Which have prov'd firm, unshaken, sound, and good, To pull all down, and cast the Frame anew, Is work for Rebels, and for Tyrants too.

Now what relief could _Amazia_ bring, Fatal indeed to be too good a King?

Friends he had many, but them did not know, Or else made to believe they were not so: For all that did ill Ministers oppose, Were represented to him as his Foes.

Yet there were many thousands in those days, Who _Amazia_ did both love and praise; Who for him daily pray'd, and wish'd his good, And for him would have spent both Coin and Bloud.

Yet these, tho the more numerous, and the best, Were call'd but murmuring Traytors by the rest: By such who strain'd till they had crackt the string Of Government; lov'd Pow'r, and not the King These daily hightned _Amazia_'s fears, And thus they whisper'd to his Royal Ears:

Sir, it is time you now take up the Sword, And let your Subjects know you are their Lord.

Goodness by Rebels won't be understood, And you are much too wonderful and good.

The _Jews_, a moody, murmuring, stubborn Race, Grow worse by Favours, and rebel with Grace.

Pamper'd they are, grown rich and fat with ease, Whom no good Monarch long could ever please.

Freedom and Liberty pretend to want; That's still the cry, where they're on Mischief bent.

Freedom is their Disease; and had they less, They would not be so ready to transgress.

Give them but Liberty, let them alone, They shall not onely you, but G.o.d dethrone.

Remember, Sir, how your good Father fell; It was his goodness made them first rebel.

And now the very self-same tract they tread, To reach your Crown, and then take off your head.

A senseless Plot they stumbl'd on, or made, To make you of th'old _Canaanites_ afraid.

Still when they mean the Nation to enthral, With heavie Clamour they cry out on _Baal_.

But these hot Zealots who _Baal_'s Idols curse, Bow to their own more ugly far and worse.

_Baal_ would but rob some Jewels from your Crown, But these would Monarchy itself pull down: Both Church and State they'l not reform by Halves, Pull down the Temple, and set up their Calves.