THE DELIQUIUM: OR, The Grievances of the Nation DISCOVERED IN A DREAM.

FRom Evenings Coffee, lac'd with long Argument
Of the Kings Power and Rights of Parliament,
And hot-brain'd Company, who make it their Vocation,
Waving their own, to mind th' Affairs o'th' Nation;
Whose Noddles for these many Months have been
Hatchers of Grievances unfelt, unseen;
Ill-manner'd Fools, whose Ignorance is Hate,
They understand not, therefore blame the State.
Their real Grievance is their want of sence,
Beasts in all things but in Obedience.
Cloy'd with their noisie Cant (in equal plight
Of laughter, scorn, and grief) I bid good night:
Troubl'd to think of England's Grand Disease,
Groaning with th' Burthen of such Sots as these,
To bed I went, where restless long I lay,
Despair'd of Sleep, and waited for the day:
Lord! (said I) must our Monarch ne're have rest?
The more indulgent, th' more he is opprest
With Fools that know not, think not what they want;
Their Desire granted, they'l soon cure the Grant:
Yet the King's still in fault! methinks I see
Tears flowing down the Cheeks of Majesty.
If I am troubled, how much more is He,
Who bears the burthen of their Calumny?
Thus lay I long, my Soul quite spent with Sighs,
When Sleep insensibly stole o're my Eyes.
From lump of Flesh unchain'd, methought my Soul
Through Dark Unwholsome Foggy Mists did rowl,
Horrour increasing still, methought I came
To the dire Mansions of Eternal Flame,
The Gates of Brass transparent were, and thence
Flew Azure Flames with Smoak of nauseous stench,
With a confused noise of Howls and Groans,
Such as would melt (if any thing can) Stones.
The horrour quell'd my Spirit, that I stood
'Maz'd and insensitive as Stone or Wood,
Till by a Friend reviv'd; Chear thee, quoth he,
This place as yet is not design'd for thee.
He led me through the Gates, where lo, a place,
Larger then all this lower Worlds vast space,
The Torments gave some light (else dark as night)
A pale bituminous discolour'd Light,
Myriads of wretched Souls my Fancy view'd,
Weltring in Flames, with Pitch and Brimstone strew'd.
Just at the Gate th' Infernal Senate sate;
For know, that Hell's no Kingdom, but a State;
A Democratick State; for it affords
(As I was told) no King nor House of Lords:
Tho' Lucifer's a kind of Prince, he sate
But Chairman, or rather Speaker to the State;
A Troop of Ghastly Fiends surround his Chair,
All which of a Select Committee were,
Who (having plaid their Devils part so well)
Had been Elected Burgesses of Hell:
Two who were lately to Eutopia sent,
Stood now for Members of the Parliament.
O Yes was strait proclaim'd; Appear, appear,
You that are Candidates; mighty Lucifer
Assures his Vote for him who merits best
For his Eutopia Service; All the rest
To Lucifer with formal Bows submit;
They would consent to what His Grace thought fit.
Python appear'd; Great Sir, said he, since I
Went with this Honourable House's Embassy,
T' Eutopia, I ha' brought that Realm to be
An't please Your Grace, in all Conformity
To Your desires; But first I must confess
Letters of Credence from his Holiness
(Your Grace's Correspondent) I procur'd
To some Lords there; whom I before insur'd
By my Ignatian Friends; O! they're a Crew
Of the most hearty, diligent and true,
Zealous unwearied Boys, to propagate
What may conduce to th' Good of this Our State:
Had they but Cunning equal to their Will,
This Place with Humane Souls they'd quickly fill;
You'd need no other Fiends: These did my work,
And privily about the Realm did lurk:
Some ign'rant Bigots they engag'd, and some
Only with th' pleasing pride of Martyrdom;
Some by Ambition's Bait were finely caught,
All things at once boldly to venture at:
But I confess, though all my Art I try'd
To bring the Great Almanzor to Our side,
I fail'd; But then I got it buz'd that He
Would soon make one in the Conspiracy:
This tickl'd and engag'd them in that PLOT
Which by th' Eutopians ne'r will be forgot
In short, This Honourable House knows well
How I've deserv'd a Burgess-ship in Hell;
If not, we've some Jesuits here can tell.
Then through the House a murmuring Applause
Shew'd that they all inclin'd to Python's Cause.
When Syphax, th'other Candidate appear'd,
Great Sir, said he, I hope my Cause (when heard)
Will gain your suffrage; Mighty Sir, You know
M'Opponent's method was a while ago
Us'd by Cantarogax, Your Agent then
To th' same Realms, though but in vain; since when
Others with like Effects have us'd it; I
Us'd the experienc'd Rule, Presbytery:
This was the method, Mighty Lucifer!
That brought Ten thousand Rebel Souls a year
For twenty years together to this place,
For Python's part, an't please Your Grace,
He hatch't a Plot I must confess; but what
Effects did this his so much talkt of Plot
Produce? Why faith he e'en sent here no more
Than those who were Your Grace's own before.
For my own part, I to the House will give
Of all my Actions a short Narrative.
In grave and comly Hypocritick Dress,
Bearing the outward form of Godliness,
I cloath'd my self, and to Eutopia went,
Haunted the City, Court and Parliament;
And in short time pick'd up a numerous Crew
Of all Religions; every Sect a few:
I made all those my own who took great pains
To make their seeming Godliness their gains:
All those who use Religion for a fashion,
Or seen to thrive by th' ruine of the Nation;
All who'd at Court their expectations crost,
Or by ill manners had Preferments left:
All those who were engag'd in the late Broils,
In the King's Death and the three Nations Spoils,
And had this King's late Act of Grace abus'd
By their unnatural Ingratitude:
All who had lost their Games, and now would fain,
For their own turn, have the Cards dealt again.
I found one fit at last to steer these right,
A Favourite of theirs, a much fam'd Wight,
Capricio call'd, and thereby hangs a Tale,
Meager his Visage is, his Face as pale
As his Deeds black; Dame Nature sure design'd
That by his out-side men might know his mind:
Hell [...]s in his Body, and his shrivl'd Skin
Seems dropping from his rotten Bones within:
His Corrupt Tortur'd Body does convey
Fresh Spleen and Rancour to his Heart each day,
Which lest it shou'd o'reflow, or by mishap
Be over-charg'd from Sun or Fleece, a Tap
Is in his Body fix'd, with curious Art,
Which from his double Envy-canker'd heart,
By pumping, does exhaust th' exundant Juice,
Reserving still enough for's daily use.
With this half Fiend I many Consults had,
And we at last this Resolution made:
Almanzor's due Succession to oppose,
Among his many unprovoked Foes:
We chose young Marcion, not for any love,
But to undo the Youth, as time will prove:
Poor easie Prince he little thinks that we
Prostituteth is his weak Credulity
To our own use, to Anarchize the State,
And hasten his too soon intended Fate:
Disgusted Lords we got some two or three,
To put their helping hands to Anarchy.
Amongst the rest one Libertino nam'd:
Of him I must confess I was asham'd,
His vitious Life did much disgrace the Cause;
But, 'twas enough, his hate to King, Church, Laws,
And Government in general, drew the rude
Unthinking, Jealous, Headlong Multitude
To esteem him so that he this Title bears,
One of the Protestant Eutopian Peers.
With these in close Cabals sometime I pass'd,
And forg'd a feasible Design at last:
'Twas thought without some provocation 'twere
Not fit our Cause in publick should appear:
I pitch'd upon a Rogue, the truth to tell,
Has not his Fellow even here in Hell,
Upon our Crew we forg'd a Plot, which he
First brought to light; A Re-discovery
He made as soon, Swore to, and was believ'd,
Then our good Party sound themselves aggriev'd,
And cry'd aloud, THESE TORY'S, Bretheren, see;
Behold, we say, the Lords Delivery.
This was some Bishop sure, or Masquerader.
Soon after this a Son accus'd his Father;
Forwards and backwards Swears, at last he Vows, Sir,
He was subborn'd by that same Papist Towzer.
Things went on well, and now they thought 'twas time
The Ladder of Rebellion they should climbe:
The Senate sate; High for the Good Old Cause,
Magna Charta, and Fundamental Laws,
No Arbitrary Power, but We must give
Necessary Limits to Prerogative,
Though the King mayn't, yet We may break the Laws,
Punish at pleasure, though without a Cause;
Then must Almanzor be excluded, He
Has too much Spirit, too much bravery;
They must and will have presently Redress,
Of a long Bead-roll of Grievances.
And these are such as the K. won't, nor can't,
Nature and Conscience will not let him grant:
If not, no Money, Sirs, what e're come on't;
A Fig for Foreign Foes, so the K▪ want.
Councellors must be tax'd, and most of all
Hali, whom they had nought to charge with all,
But only 'cause he could discern the Weather,
And judge when Elements would clash together;
They do not think it safe that any Lord
That has but sence, should sit at Council-Board;
Those that sit there should in their Foreheads have
Their Beast-ships Mark of either Fool or Knave;
Who lov'd the K. was Voted straight to be
Betrayer of the Subjects Liberty;
And their old long-lov'd Darling Property.
Capricio tells them next, they want a Prince
Fit to be trusted with the Rule; and since
The present King's not such, they think 'twere fit
That they be trusted both with Him and It.
In short, I've brought that Kingdom, now of late,
In all Conformity so near our State,
That whosoever sees both, will surely Swear
'Tis an exact true Pattern of This here.
Then such loud shouts from all the Senate came,
That I awak'd, and found it but a Dream.
FINIS.

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