Fireb. Madam, a more important cause demands
Your royal care; strange omens have appear'd;
Sights have been seen, and voices have been heard,
The gods are angry, and must be appeas'd;
Nor do I know to that a readier way
Than by beginning to appease their priests,
Who groan for power, and cry out after honour.
Q. C. S. The gods, indeed, have reason for their anger,
And sacrifices shall be offer'd to them;
But would you make 'em welcome, priest, be meek,
Be charitable, kind, nor dare affront
The Sun you worship, while yourselves prevent
That happiness to men you ask of him.
Enter an Officer.
Q. C. S. What means this hasty message in your looks?
Offic. Forgive me, madam, if my tongue declares
News for your sake, which most my heart abhors;
Queen Ignorance is landed in your realm,
With a vast power from Italy and France
Of singers, fidlers, tumblers, and rope-dancers.
Q. C. S. Order our army instantly to get
Themselves in readiness; our self will head 'em.
My lords, you are concerned as well as we
T'oppose this foreign force, and we expect
You join us with your utmost levies straight.
Go, priest, and drive all frightful omens hence;
To fright the vulgar they are your pretence,
But sure the gods will side with Common Sense.
[Exit cum suis.
Fireb. They know their interest better; or at least
Their priests do for 'em, and themselves. Oh! lords,
This queen of Ignorance, whom you have heard
Just now described in such a horrid form,
Is the most gentle and most pious queen;
So fearful of the gods, that she believes
Whate'er their priests affirm. And by the Sun,
Faith is no faith if it falls short of that.
I'd be infallible; and that, I know,
Will ne'er be granted me by Common Sense:
Wherefore I do disclaim her, and will join
The cause of Ignorance. And now, my lords,
Each to his post. The rostrum I ascend;
My lord of Law, you to your courts repair;
And you, my good lord Physick, to the queen;
Handle her pulse, potion and pill her well.
Phys. Oh! my good lord, had I her royal ear,
Would she but take the counsel I would give,
You'd need no foreign power to overthrow her:
Yes, by the gods! I would with one small pill
Unhinge her soul, and tear it from her body;
But to my art and me a deadly foe,
She has averr'd, ay, in the publick court,
That Water Gruel is the best physician;
For which, when she's forgiven by the college,
Or when we own the sway of Common Sense,
May we be forced to take our own prescriptions!
Fireb. My lord of Physick, I applaud thy spirit.
Yes, by the Sun, my heart laughs loud within me,
To see how easily the world's deceived;
To see this Common Sense thus tumbled down
By men whom all the cheated nations own
To be the strongest pillars of her throne.