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’Gainst Royal Will they never can dispute, But by a strange Tarantula strook mute, Dance to no other Tune but Absolute. | } |
All Acts of Supreme Power they still admire:
’Tis Sacred, though to set the World on Fire,
Though Church-Infallibility they explode,
As making Humane knowledge equal God;
Infallible in a new name goes down,
Not in the Mitre lodged, but in the Crown.
’Tis true, blest Deborahs Laws they could forget:
(But want of Memory commends their Wit.)
Where ’twas enacted Treason, not to own
Hers and her Sanedrins right to place the Crown.
But her weak Heads oth’ Church, mistaken fools,
Wanted the Light of their sublimer Schools:
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For Divine Right could no such Forces bring. But Wisdom now expands her wider Wing, And Streams are ever deeper than the Spring. | } |
Besides, they’ve sense of Honour; and who knows
How far the Gratitude of Priest-craft goes?
42 And what if now like old Elisha fed,
To praise the Sooty Bird that brought ’em Bread,
In pure acknowledgment, though in despight
Of their own sense, they paint the Raven White.
Achitophel charm’d with kind Fortunes Smiles,
Flusht with Success, now glows for bolder Toyls.
Great Wits perverted greatest Mischiefs hold,
As poysonous Vapors spring from Mines of Gold.
And proud to see himself with Triumph blest,
Thus to great Absolom himself addrest.
Illustrious Terrour of the World, all hayle:
For ever like your Conquering Self prevaile.
In spight of Malice in full Luster shine;
Be your each Action, Word, and Look Divine,
Nay, though our Altars you’ve so long forborne;
To your derided Foes Defeat, and Scorne,
For your Renown we have those Trumpets found,
Shall ev’n this Deed your highest Glory sound.
That spight of the ill-judging Worlds mistake,
Your Soul still owns those Temples you forsake:
Onely by all-commanding Honour driven,
This self-denial you have made with Heav’n:
Quitting our Altars, cause the Insolence
Of prophane Sanedrims has driven you thence.
A Prince his Faith to such low Slaves reveal!
’Twas Treason though to God to bid You kneel.
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And what though senseless barking Murmurers scold, And with a Rage too blasphemously bold, Say Israels Crown’s for Esau’s Pottage sold. | } |
Let ’em rayl on; and to strike Envy dumb;
May the Slaves live till that great Day shall come,
When their husht Rage shall your keen Vengeance fly,
And silenc’d with your Royal Thunder dye.
Nay, to outsoar your weak Fore-fathers Wings,
And to be all that Nature first meant Kings;
Damn’d be the Law that Majesty confines,
But doubly damn’d accursed Sanedrins,
Invented onely to eclipse a Crown.
Oh throw that dull Mosaick Land-mark down.
43 The making Sanedrims a part of Pow’r,
Nurst but those Vipers which its Sire devour.
Lodg’d in the Pallace tow’rds the Throne they press,
For Pow’rs Enjoyment does its Lust increase.
Allegiance onely is in Chains held fast;
Make Men ne’re thirst, is ne’re to let ’em tast.
Then, Royal Sir, be Sanedrims no more,
Lop off that rank Luxurious Branch of pow’r:
Those hungry Scions from the Cedar root,
That its Imperial Head towards Heav’n may shoot.
When Lordly Sanedrims with Kings give Law,
And thus in yokes like Mules together draw;
From Judahs Arms the Royal Lyon raze,
And Issachars dull Ass supply the place.
If Kings o’re common Mankind have this odds,
Are Gods Vicegerents; let ’em act like Gods.
As Man is Heav’ns own clay, which it may mould
For Honour or Dishonour, uncontrould,
And Monarchy is mov’d by Heav’nly Springs;
Why is not Humane Fate i’th’ Breath of Kings?
Then, Sir, from Heav’n your great Example take,
And be th’unbounded Lord a King should make:
Resume what bold Invading Slaves engrost,
And onely Pow’rs Effeminacy lost.
To this kind Absolom but little spoke;
Onely return’d a Nod, and gracious Look.
For though recorded Fame with pride has told,
Of his great Actings, Wonders manifold;
And his great Thinkings most Diviners guess;
Yet his great Speakings no Records express.
All things thus safe; and now for one last blow,
To give his Foes a total Overthrow;
A Blow not in Hells Legends match’d before,
The remov’d Plot’s laid at the Enemies door.
The old Plot forg’d against the Saints of Baal,
Cheat, Perjury, and Subornation all,
Whilst with a more damn’d Treason of their own,
Like working Moles they’re digging round the Throne;
Baal, Baal, the cry, and Absolom the Name,
But Davids glory, Life and Crown the Aim.
44 Nay, if but a Petition peep abroad,
Though for the Glory both of Church and God,
And to preserve even their yet unborn Heirs;
There’s Blood and Treason in their very Prayers.
This unexampled Impudence upheld;
The Governments best Friends, the Crowns best Sheild,
The Great and Brave with equal Treason brands.
Faith, Honour, and Allegiance strongest Bands
All broken like the Cords of Sampson fall,
Whilst th’universal Leprosie taints all.
These poysonous shafts with greater spleen they draw,
Than the Outragious Wife of Potypha.
So the chast Joseph unseduc’d to her
Adult’ries, was pronounc’d a Ravisher.