In the same Roll have we grave Corah seen,
Corah, the late chief Scarlet Abbethdin.
Corah, who luckily i’th’ Bench was got,
To loo the Bloodhounds off to save the Plot.
Corah, who once against Baals Impious Cause,
Stood strong for Israels Faith and Davids Laws.
He poys’d his Scales, and shook his ponderous Sword,
Lowd as his Fathers Basan-Bulls he roar’d;
Till by a Dose of Forreign Ophir drencht,
The Feavour of his Burning Zeal was Quencht.
Ophir, that rescu’d the Court-Drugsters Fate,
Sent in the Nick to gild his Pills of State.
Whilst the kind Skill of our Law-Emperick,
Sublim’d his Mercury to save his Neck.
In Law, they say, he had but a slender Mite,
And Sense he had less: for as Historians write,
The Arabian Legate laid a Snare so gay,
As Spirited his little Wits away.
34 Of the Records of Law he fancied none
Like the Commandment Tables graved in Stone.
And wish’d the Talmude such, that Soveraign sway
When once displeased might th’angry Moses play.
Onely his Law was Brittle i’th’ wrong place:
For had our Corah been in Moses Case,
The Fury of his Zeal had been employ’d
To build that Calf which th’others Rage destroy’d.
Thus Corah, Baals true Fayry Changeling made,
He Bleated onely as the Pharisees pray’d,
All to advance that future Tyrant pow’r,
Should Widows Houses gorge, and Orphans Tears devour.
Nor are these all their Instruments; to prop
Their Mighty Cause, and Israels Murmurs stop;
They find a sort of Academick Tools;
Who by the Politick Doctrine of their Schools,
Betwixt Reward, Pride, Avarice, Hope and Fear,
Prizing their Heav’n too cheap, the World too dear,
Stand bold and strong for Absolons Defence:
Interest the Thing, but Conscience the Pretence.
These to ensure him for their Sions King,
A Right Divine quite down from Adam bring,
That old Levitick Engine of Renown,
That makes no Taint of Souls a bar t’a Crown.
’Tis true, Religions constant Champion vow’d,
Each open-mouth’d, with Pulpit-Thunder lowd,
Against false Gods, and Idol Temples bawls;
Yet lays the very Stones that raise their Walls.
They preach up Hell to those that Baal adore,
Yet make’t Damnation to oppose his pow’r.
So far this Paradox of Conscience run,
Till Israels Faith pulls Israels Altars down.
Grant Heav’n they don’t to Baal so far make way,
Those fatal Wands before their Sheepfolds lay.
Such Motley Principles amongst them thrown,
Shall nurse that Py-ball’d Flock that’s half his own.
Nor may they say, when Molocks Hands draw nigher,
We built the Pile, whilst Baal but gives it fire.
If Monarchy in Adam first begun,
When the Worlds Monarch dug, and his Queen spun,
35 His Fig-leaves his first Coronation-Robe,
His Spade his Scepter, and her Wheel his Globe;
And Royal Birthright, as their Schools assert,
Not Kings themselves with Conscience can divert;
How came the World possest by Adams Sons,
Such various Principalities, Powres, Thrones?
When each went out and chose what Lands he pleas’d,
Whilst a new Family new Kingdoms rais’d?
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His Sons assuming what he could not give, Their Soveraign Sires right Heir they did deprive; And from Rebellion all their pow’r derive: | } |
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For were there an original Majesty Upheld by Right Divine, the World should be Onely one Universal Monarchy. | } |
O cruel Right Divine, more full of Fate,
Then th’ Angels flaming Sword at Edens Gate,
Such early Treason through Mankind convey’d,
And at the door of Infant-Nature layd.
For Right Divine in Esau’s just defence,
Why don’t they quarrel with Omnipotence,
The first-born Esau’s Right to Jacob giv’n,
And Gods gift too, Injustice charge on Heav’n.
Nay, let Heav’n answer this one Fact alone,
Mounting a Bastard Jephtha on a Throne.
If Kings and Sanedrims those Laws could make,
Which from offending Heirs their Heads can take;
And a First-born can forfeit Life and Throne,
And all by Law: why not a Crown alone?
Strange-bounded Law-makers! whose pow’r can throw
The deadlier Bolt, can’t give the weaker Blow.
A Treasonous Act; nay, but a Treasonous Breath
Against offended Majesty is Death.
But, oh! the wondrous Church-distinction given
Between the Majesty of Kings and Heav’n!
The venial sinner here, he that intreagues
With Egypt, Babylon; Cabals, Plots, Leagues
With Israels Foes her Altars to destroy,
A Hair untouch’d, shall Health, Peace, Crowns enjoy.
Truths Temple thus the Exhalations bred
From her own Bowels, to obscure her Head.
36 And Absolom already had subdu’d
Whole Crowds of the unthinking Multitude.
But through these Wiles too weak to catch the Wise,
Thin as their Ephod-Lawn, a Cobweb Net for Flyes,
The searching Sanedrim saw; and to dispel
Th’ingendring Mists that threatned Israel,
They still resolv’d their Plotting Foes defeat,
By barring Absolon th’Imperial Seat.
But here’s his greatest Tug; could he but make
Th’encluding Sanedrims Resolves once shake;
Nay, make the smallest Breach, or clashing Jar,
In their great Councel, push but home so far,
And the great Point’s secur’d.——And, lo! among
The Princely Heads of that Illustrious Throng,
He saw rich Veins with Noble Blood new fill’d;
Others who Honour from Dependance held.
Some with exhausted Fortunes, to support
Their Greatness, propt with Crutches from a Court.
These for their Countries Right their Votes still pass,
Mov’d like the Water in a Weather-glass,
Higher or lower, as the powerful Charm
O’th’ Soveraign Hand is either cool or warm.
Here must th’Attacque be made: for well we know,
Reason and Titles from one Fountain flow:
Whilst Favour Men no less than Fortunes builds,
And Honour ever Moulds as well as Guilds.
Honour that still does even new Souls inspire;
Honour more powerful than the Heav’n-stoln Fire.
These must be wrought to Absolons Defence.
For though to baffle the whole Sanedrims Sence,
T’attempt Impossibles would be in vain,
Yet ’tis enough but to Divide and Raign.
Here though small Force such easie Converts draws,
Yet ’tis thought fit in glory to their Cause,
Some learned Champion of prodigious Sense,
With Mighty and long studyed Eloquence,
Should with a kind of Inspiration rise,
And the unguarded Sanedrim surprize,
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And such resistless conquering Reasons press, To charm their vanquisht Souls, that the Success Might look like Conscience, though ’tis nothing less. | } |