A Pindarique Ode, Upon the late Horrid and Damnable Whiggish Plot.
I.
DIssenting Bigots, boast no more
Of Glorious Mischiefs heretofore;
Not all the Troops your Godly Factions led,
Bradshaw and Cromwell in their Head,
Can vie with single Shaftsbury,
For secure Arts of close-laid Villany;
They but the empty Types, the weighty substance He.
'Tis true, these two great Leaders carry'd on
Their bold Designs till Life was done;
But when the Vip'rous pair was crush'd, the Wound
They living made, clos'd and again was Sound:
Whilst he, like Serpents of more Pois'nous kind,
Where e're he once his fork'd Tongue applies,
Though in the Fatal Act he dies,
Still leaves his Venom and his Sting behind.
II.
Monmouth and Essex both were Stung,
And many more by this Envenom'd Tongue;
And strait they all began to Swell,
From Sense and Reason strait they Fell;
And Melancholly Fumes possess'd their Brain,
And they wou'd all be Kings, and all wou'd Raign.
Hence their disorder'd passion Springs,
And spitting Venom on the best of Kings;
Hence their attempts upon his Life and Throne;
Hence all the secret Mysteries
Of undermining Treacheries,
And hidden Veins of Treasons yet unknown.
But thou, Great Charles, despise their vain Designs;
The Ʋnicorn, Supporter of thy Arms,
'Gainst all their Poison bears sufficient Charms;
And a much greater Pow'r blows up their deepest Mines.
III.
Methinks the dark Cabal of Six I see,
Double Triumvirate of Villany;
Exceeding that which went before
In Number much, in mischief more:
Caesar's Adopted Son does first appear;
Art thou, my Brutus, there?
Thou that wert once so Great and Good;
From the high place wherein you justly stood
How art thou fall'n, O Lucifer?
He once, like you, was Fair and Bright,
Chief Leader of the Glorious Hosts of Light;
But long (alas!) he cou'd not bear
To see above him plac'd th' Eternal Kings Immediate Heir.
He scorn'd Subjection, for a Kingdom fell;
But gain'd Eternal Slavery and Hell:
Thus while from Good to Ill they headlong tend,
The brightest Angel makes the blackest Fiend.
IV.
Next Essex, once deservedly Great,
Though since the Scorn and Mockery of Fate:
Essex, whose late Successful sway
Made Ireland Peaceably obey;
And follow'd well Great Ormonds Track, who led him all the way.
His Fathers Bright Example long prevail'd,
And that most Precious Legacy
He left to him of Loyalty;
(So the declining Sun, when chas'd by coming Night,
Still guilds the World a while with the remains of Light:)
But when that Hell and Shaftsbury assail'd,
His Noble Resolutions quickly fail'd,
And all his former Virtues nought avail'd.
Addresses and Petitions first.
(For who can fall at once from Good to Worst?)
Began the Game; and aiming to Betray,
Like Judas, All Hail Master, led the way.
Unhappy man! who carry'd on
Too sadly the Comparison!
Tortur'd like him by his Despair,
Like him he was his own sad Executioner.
V.
Russel and Esckrick next in order were;
Nor did I much admire to see them there:
Happy the latter of the two, who since
Has wash'd away his Faults in Humble Penitence;
And by a true Confession
Of others Treason and his own,
With his most Gracious Prince may for the last Atone.
I wave the former, since he Justly di'd,
And by his Death has satisfi'd:
But he has to himself bin more unkind;
And his own Libel left behind.
Next Sydney comes; a Name
In brave Sir Philip known to Fame
For Perfect Wit and Loyalty;
Though now by Algernoon mark'd with so Black a Dye,
As does almost Eclipse the Fame of his Great Ancestry.
Hampden the last; the worthy Son
Of him well known in Fourty One:
Grand Patron of the Canting Tribe,
How shall I thee Describe?
None can draw thee according to thy due,
But he that has the knack to Hang and Quarter too.
VI.
These, and a num'rous Train of many more,
Their dark Designs did secretly contrive;
Till Keeling, who did long Connive,
To sound their depth, and number all their store,
Broke forth, and shone like Gold amidst the Ore.
Against his Conscience nothing cou'd prevail;
Not Life and Int'rest in the other Scale:
All other by-concerns he laid aside;
And fix'd his mind with Noble Pride
Upon a Name so Good and Great,
As sole Preserver of the Church and State.
What Thanks for such Obligements shall we bring?
Our Fortunes and our Lives we owe
For what you did on us bestow;
What then for our Religion, and our King?
Take first our Hearts; while we can only Pray,
God and his great Vice-gerent will repay.
VII.
And now the Horrid Plot appears,
Writ in the Blackest Characters;
And ev'ry Page some Bloody Title bears,
Seditions, Treasons, Massacres.
What in a King so Good, what cou'd they see,
To Arme that numerous Conspiracy
Against so mild a Majesty;
Which like the Sun, its Beams does wear,
Not to Consume, but Warm and Cheer?
Blest Prince! and canst thou still Dispence
To this Unthankful Land thy Gracious Influence?
Still canst thou shed thy Favours upon those
That are the near Relations of thy Foes?
Brave Capel and Southampton on this Hand,
Essex and Russel on the other stand;
He turn'd from these, and fix'd his Princely view
Upon the Nobler Object of the two;
And as he look'd, on all their Friends his willing Favours threw.
Let Russel's Wife (said he) unpitty'd go;
But shall Southampton's Daughter fall so low?
Essex his Son shou'd want, 'tis true;
But what shall then Brave Capel's Grandson do?
In his Indulgent Memory,
So long great Virtues live, so soon Offences Dye.
VIII.
Yet him, thus justly fam'd for mildness of his Reign,
The Bloody Faction dooms to dye;
And to Enhance their Cruelty,
Wou'd in his Royal Brother Murder him again:
His Royal Brother, who had always bin
A Partner of the Troubles he was in;
Of all his dangers bore a share,
And still with him Joynt-Sufferer:
Ev'n him their Hellish rage Assails;
The Hercules, that when our Atlas fails,
Must with his Shoulders prop the sinking State,
And bear unmov'd the mighty weight.
With them the Loyal, all the Good and Great,
Must meet an unrelenting Fate;
For those by strong Antipathy they hate.
IX.
Nor can the Church escape this Cursed band:
What once was to the Worst a Sanctuary,
Can to its self no Refuge be;
That with the State does always fall or stand:
And may both stand till time its self has end;
And still each other mutually defend:
For whilst with open Force, or secret Hate,
The two extreams assault the State;
The English Church keeps on her steady pace,
Fix'd in the middle, Virtues place;
Nor e're Rebell'd against the Throne,
Under whose Gracious shade 'twas planted and has grown.
But as the Ivy, with whose Verdant Boughs
Her Learned Sons may justly wreath their Brows,
Does round the Elme its loving Branches twine;
And when the Axe its kind support assails,
That also feels the Stroke, and with it fails:
So while the Church and State their strict Embraces joyn;
The same rude Blow, that over-turns the Crown,
Strikes its lov'd partner too, and hews her down.
X.
Ah! wretched England! how art thou,
The Worlds late Envy, made its Laughter now?
Is't not enough, that Forreign Foes
Disturb thy quiet, and thy Peace oppose?
But must thy Children, like young Vipers, tear
The womb which did them bear?
Hast thou so few Abroad, that thou must be
Thy own most dreadful Enemy?
At length, Unhappy Land thy Errors view;
And give to Caesar, and to God their due;
Leave Factious Arts, nor let so stale a Cheat
Twice in one Age impose upon the State:
Murmure no more, when you shou'd Thanks repay;
And value Mercies, least thy fly away:
For they who spurn at God, deserve to suffer worse;
And Blessings, when abus'd, oft turn into a Curse.
London, Printed and Sold by N. Thompson at the Entrance into the Old-Spring-Garden near Charing-Cross, 1684.