THE ROYALL MISSIVE TO THE PRINCE OF VVALES, BEING THE LETTER OF K. CHARLES I.
IN PART METRICALLY PARAPHRASED, FOR ESSAY VNTO THE REST.
BY RI. VVATSON.
Printed AT CAEN, By CLAVDE LE BLANC. M.DC.LX.
To the Prince of VVales.
SON,
If my
Papers at your hand arrive,
Wherein by
Conscience Counsell I contrive;
Rallie my private thoughts, and in array
My forces ready for your march display,
Proof-armed, & by sound
Experience taught
How to keep ground, retreate, how to assau't;
Advance
yours by
my Iudgement to the field,
Where
Piety must be your
sword and
shield;
Guide you in
fight, and
parlie, to redresse
What now
doe's, or hereafter
may, you presse.
I wing the heavie
Houres, and cleare the skie
From the cloud of
restraint and
injurie;
Through my immantled
soul see brighter day
Then's usherd by the messenger of
May,
In these light streaming lines, which o're the hill
Shew me your future
triumph by my
skill,
When neither
Son, nor
Subject, sure, will guesse
The measure of the
Caeuse by my
successe,
Convinc'd by yours; nor in opinion state
My Iudgement, as my
Warre, unfortunate.
So, yet more thought so for your sake, & theirs,
With my selfe
Rivalls, you my
Love's coheires;
The weights of whose afflictions presse me downe
Deeper in sense, and sadnesse, then mine owne,
From a
false title to my
suffering,
Because I am your
father, and their
King.
But from most
Princes have you
Wisdome's prise
Won, by encountring early miseries;
And with deare-bought
Experience crown'd those yeeres
Spent in beguiling pleasures by your
Peeres;
Practis'd your
armes, and
patience exercis'd;
So that by no
Chance can you be
surpris'd,
For want of
Iudgement's guard, in your
escape
Secure, taught future cautele by my
rape.
In this black scile, & season, doe you plant
Politike Vertues, manure
Morall, dant
Slow
Expectation; turne
Ioy into
Rage
At full grow'n
Piety in
pupillage.
So shoot up
winter-scians, more streight, & cleane,
Then in warme
Sun-shine set, or times
serene.
In dayes of
peace and
plenty Princes courts
No
Paradises are, but
Scenes of
sports,
Where
Vertue take's no root, &
Pleasure weave's
But
Honour's counterfeit in silken leaves;
Frame's language to put off, with disrepute,
Empty
formalities for reall
fruit,
That sterve the
Publike, to which
Kings sonnes Knowe
Their yeares, by
birth, and
Providence, they owe.
That
Royall couple, by the sacred pen
Recorded, neither
Kings alike, nor
men,
Give's us a prospect of th' inchanting power,
Which
blowe's the
Grādsire's, blast's y
e
Nephew's flower.
The Paraphrast here take's the liberty of some enlargement out of sacred Historie.
The son of
Iesse that step't first with his
slingToward the
Court and
tite of a
King,
Met, though the
Giant fell by the small stone,
Troups of
Miss-fortunes for that happy one;
Steep mountaines climb'd for a concealing clowd,
And in darke caves did
Innocency shrowd,
Vntill, fledg'd in
afflictions, and high-flow'n
He fetch't from
Heav'n the
laurell with his
Crown,
Maintaind by
sword and
Vertue, but entail'd
To one who, fraught with
Wisdome, by
Will sail'd;
Become heire of vast
wealth, & war-got
leisure,
Traffiq't for new-found
fancies, unknow'n
pleasure;
Chang'd th'
iron Chariot for an
ivory Throne;
On
silver trod instead of
sand and
stone;
Walk't under bending
Cedars clasp't with gold,
While globes of
Incense through his
Palace roll'd;
As many
wives and
women had, as
wishes;
More
tables furnish't, then his father
dishes.
His
ships, witharmes, and horses, plough'd y
e
Maine,
Brought
Apes too, and y
e bird with
starry traine.
The
Infant heire, in beds of softest downe,
Slept out the boding sorrowes of a
Crowne;
Chapletts of
roses bound his youthfull brow,
While
wine and
joyes his bowles did overflow;
Intrancing
musike dayly charm'd his eare;
In streames of
oyle and
whispers did he heare
All
sycophantike language, not once told,
The
yong Prince, as
yong Peasant, must grow
old.
In these rich
softs &
sweets Rehoboam bred
His
honour, peace, and
Crowne, halfe forfeited
To his
green Sages rashnes, and those
flies
That stick to glorious
Princes with press'd
thighes
And cripled knees, much like such
summer creatures
As in ripe fruit destroy the fairest features,
Till
Autumne's chasing blasts do 'em disseise,
As a
miss-fortune spied give's wings to these.
I had rather (which my
Heart speake's by my
Hand)
That you should
Charles le Bon be, then
le Grand;
Yet I, hope, destin'd to my
Royall seat,
God will both
Charles the good make, and
y
e Great,
Call'd in the
dawning of your
Age, to try
With
Nature's Champions
Grace's chivalry;
And by
Heav'n's influence subdue the mists
That to delude your sense possesse the lists;
The guerdon to which conquest of your mind,
Will be, to have it steadily inclin'd
To the imployment of those
sacred powers
Descended on you with the
blooming Howers,
By their full strength and luster to maintaine
Your peoples
wellfare, & their
love to gaine.
With
God begin and end, whose
Vassalls are,
All
Kings, each
scepter subject to some
starre,
Wherein its
Fortune wind's or
low, or
high,
By an
eccentrike regularitie,
Till, at accomplish'd
numbers, it the same
With silent
thunder strikes, or unseen
flame,
Which a lowd
summon is, and blazing
light,
For him to reach a
Crowne, that ha's no
right,
Whom the
Disposer Soveraigne may too
Give a
short turne, and then
eternize you;
For all the
Kings and
Kingdomes of the World
Are by him
calmed, or in
tempests hurld;
And
crownes in
lines descend not, nor are given,
But by
Fate wrap't up in the fold of
Heaven.
The highest
Monarchie you can attaine
Is, to account y
e
World's, your
Soveraigne;
That you may copie right the
Royall Are
By the sway of his
scepter in your
heart,
That
scepter which by
word proclaime's his
will,
By
spirit incline's gently to fullfill.
Princes true glory is God's to advance
In holy worship, and
Church maintenance;
By ciuile power to oblige or release,
With
justice, honour, dues to publike
Peace.
Auspicious
Votes payd at the
Altar may
Vnveile your
Morning for a glorious
Day;
At least keep up the
cloud before her eyes
From
breaking stormes, dethroning Miseries;
Though with the
VVretched shall I not enroll
Him that, y
e
field &
Crowne lost, save's his soul.
Vnto which center of true
Happinesse,
I trust, the
All-directour doe's addresse
These black lines of
Affliction, from each arch
Of
Miserie's circumference that march
Through my
soul's circlet, & me
captive lead
To
Conquest, where, turn'd
rayes, they'll deck my head.
You have allready
Kis't the
Cup, but I
Have
congies quaff't of
King-calamitie,
Which though it in the hollow of each veine
A tempest beate, and sympathetike paine
Raise in my
Spirits Palace, yet I call
Heav'n's
Panace or safe
Antimoniall.
Before all, if not, as
Hope suggest's, done,
Ground a firme
Quadrate for
Religion,
On which no
slight Shaft or
Pillaster set,
With the late-fancied
foliage, or
fret;
But such as
English Architects have told
Supported the
Church Aedifice of old,
When
Rome on no
Grotisque, or
Antike, stood,
But on
Heav'n's Atlas, a
Christ on the Crosse, and the holy Martyrs that supported the Primitive Church by their sufferings.
Colosse of blood;
Greece not in
ruines, and
amazement, lay,
The
marble softned by her
teares to
clay▪
Which Ancient
Pile of Glory I best thought
By the
Britannike Modellers new - wrought,
Wherein you have beauteous proportions seen
With
others eyes, but now must judge between
Conscience and
Custome, with your
Reason try
What
Fayth can reach short of
Credulity.
So shall the choice be
yours, not, as before,
The practice, on
mine, or the
Bishops, score.
In it, thus rais'd, I charge you
persevere,
As the divinest
Oracles most neare
Approaching, for pure doctrine, & the
Prime
Church order drawing downe to moderne time,
Somewhat amended, which I often have
Express'd, and offer'd, but none hearing gave.
That you should
fixed in Religion be,
Ha's no more uncontroll'd necessitie
For your
soul's, then your
Kingdomes lasting
peace,
When your
warres, & now - forced
travailes, cease.
Since the
rebellious Devill, turne
Divine,
And in shape of
Reforming Angels shine.
Now the old gliding
Serpent goe's upright,
Pretending from darke
shades to new - sprung
light.
When Conscience
Faction and
sedition cries,
Sone with
Religion stop her mouth, and
Lies;
When Piety
Patience pleades, and
Peace, their peal
Of
Fury ring's, out nought but
Armes and
Zeale;
So that unlesse the root well - earthed bee,
The
Wind, that seeme's to
kisse, will
shake, the Tree.
Nor shall you want
Religion's tempting powers
To
Reforme, that is,
Ruine you and yours:
For when the worst in
treason would combine,
They find nought better blancheth the
designe,
Where, beside new invention, which affect's
The vulgar
changing fancies, each project's
Himselfe a share in the
Great Worke, the name
Of a
Reformer, to conceale his
shame,
Which, self-convicted turne's to
impudence
Of censure, with feign'd
zeale out-fa
[...]ing
sease.
What by your
judgement, and the
Church, is set
Religion's standard, vindicate; abet
No
Partisans of faction, nor relieve
The plaintiffe
Schismatike, th'accus'd to grieve.
Head no
disjointed Members, nor adhere
To
By
privilegiates are meant suich as claime priviledge or exē ption from thepublike establissement; and vvould have the King's countenance against him selfe.
Privilegiates, in hope, or feare;For the
complying hearts, you gaine, are such
As, when you in Religion
ben will
crouch,
While the more upright
Votaries impute,
That you their fayth
desprise, them
persecute.
With
charity, and
calmnesse, recompose
Impartially divided spirits, but those
That upon interest
Rebellion raise,
Out of
Church-ruines to repaire decaies,
Chastise by
Iustice, or with
forces scatter,
So neither
Faction need you
feare, or
flatter;
For
if their courtesie your want, my Son,
I antedate your doome,
You are undone,
If
Innocence mistake her mate, in love
Bill with the
Serpent, He'll devoure y
e
Dove.
None wil you finde lesse loyall, just, humane,
Then
Rebells that
Religion's name prophane;
All their demands, and actions, which surmount
Reaeson, or rule, they place to
Gods account;
Vnder whose Colours, and Heav'n's Canopie,
Ambition marcheth, with slie
Policie,
Secure and confident of the applause
Common
Devotion offer's to
God's Cause.
Thus may you from their
covenanted Bands
Heave
Iacob's voice, but shall feel
Esau's hāds.
England lesse no usurping
Faction fear'd,
Of late yeares, then
Presbyterie, which appear'd
Most
Saintly modest, humbly retrograde
From their forefathers boldnesse to invade;
Nor, when they most in
Consistorie sate,
Could they strike terrour in my
Church, or
State;
But since phantastike
Frowardnesse divides
My double - byass'd People into sides,
As corrupt
Humours, fond some
Fever's name
To get, meet in full furie to inflame:
So doe's each scatter'd discontented
Passion
Here rendezvous, some in
choice, some for
fashion,
While this
New Light, shot from the
Northerne starre,
Religion guide's, by
Parliament, to
Warre.
At first the pettie
Factions were the
suite
Of this great
Rabbi, crouch'd & kiss'd his feet,
Till
Time experience gave, &
Warre's successe
Leisure to search, discoverie to guesse
Each at peculiar
int'rest, that invite's
To divide
spoyles, and
sequester'd delights;
To breake
Religion's stock for a new
Trade
By
partie-profits, or
preferments, made;
This to
Church ruine, and
Republike, wrought;
And on
Presbyterie self - confusion brought;
Dash'd his first hopes, when chosen
Generall,
He mean't no
sharing stakes, but
sweoping all.
Have nothing despicable in your eye
That threaten's the
Church-peace or
Piety;
Errours, and
schismes, presented from a farre
But as
Night - cloud - foyles for Heaven's brightfac't starre,
Chace from your
Church-horizon, and dispell,
By early censure, each to its darke cell,
Lest what seeme's a
petitionarie hand
Or'ecloud you, spread into an Armed Band.
The
Temple cleansed, and y
e
Altars dress'd,
Religion preserv'd, beautified, profess'd;
To
God, his
Church, your
Soul, due justice done;
Truth, though betweē two crucified, kep't one;
Ascend your high
Tribunal, judge each cause
By your inheritance, the
Kingdome's lawes:
For as your great
Fate in that Orbe doth roll,
So your good
Ruling-starre turne's on this pole,
Whose mixed influence may wonder bring,
That set's your
Subject free, yet keepe's
you King,
If you know true
Prerogative's to have
A happy people
Servant, no poore
Slave;
Whose safety, peace, and property preserv'd,
Import's no pamper'd
Body, with
Head sterv'd.
Ingenuous
Liberty doe's not restraine
The right - hand priviledge to hold the reigne,
Fed with the fruits of a joint care, 'tis meant
You
guide they
draw, the Chariot, by consent.
Charge not your head with such a massie
Crowne,
As sinke's the body and supporters downe,
From which nor strength, nor honour, can you have,
Nor hope they 'll rise from ruine you to save.
Best may you
Royalty from rumours quit,
When you
intend not
rigour, but
remit;
For while by justice you
oppresse, not
awe,
You play the
Tyrant with a
ruling Lawe.
The censure of the raving
VVorld to me
Is no reproach, so I a
Martyr be,
And such I am, who suffer, to maintaine
Fix't
Lawes, set -
VVorship of my Soveraigne;
Naught else my
Kingdome - troublers can object
But that these from their
changes I protect;
That I preferre the
Oracles, I found
By
sun - rayes writ, to
darke dreames they propound;
And shall, till better
Reason me perswade
Then
Tumults, Armies, Prisons, which invade.
I can not yet that uncouth lesson learne,
Nor you, I hope, when at the
Kingdome's sterne,
That it is safe for us
Kings to recant
Our
Lawes for
Faction's violence, or taunt;
O
[...], for their feigned courtesie, unfold
Those
sacred sheetes, where
VVisdome hath enroll'd
The
Publike Interest, and gratifie
VVith
new Indentures raz'd
Communitie.
VVhat, to alleviate my pressing weights,
Heav'n may contrive; how to enlarge my streights;
How it will crosse unnaturall intents
Of
Hands, becoming
Heads of
Jnstruments;
How into
order such
confusion bring;
Reduce to
subject each become
halfe-King;
I can't determine, nor will take much care
How in the hands of unjust men I fare,
VVhile in the
Empire of my
soul I hold
Justice by
God and
Conscience uncontroll'd.
VVhat
Reason, Honour, Conscience, could permit
To my concession, I indulged it,
All
strain'd atlength by offers to
Reforme
Regarding onely safety in the
storme;
Or'e-nice in no reserves, but where
consent
Must needs betray all due meanes to prevent
Irreparable violences to
My
soul, the
Church, my
People, Son, &
you,
VVho in the issues of my
Grants have share,
As of my Kingdomes next
undoubted heire.