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These with the rest, of every size and sort, Strove to be thought Friends to the King and Court, With lyes and railing, would the Crown support. | } |
Then in a Pageant shew a Plot was made,
And Law it self made War in Masquerade.
But fools they were, not warn’d by former ill,
By their own selves were circumvented still.
They thought by Bloud to give the Kingdom ease;
Physick’d the Jews when they had no Disease.
Contingent mischiefs these did not foresee,
Against their Conscience fought, and God’s Decree.
What shall we think, when such, pretending good,
Would build the Nations Peace on Innocent Blood?
These would expose the People to the Sword
Of each unbounded Arbitrary Lord.
105 But their good Laws, by which they Right enjoy,
The King nor could, nor ever would destroy.
And tho he Judge be of what’s fit and just,
He own’d from Heaven, and from Man a Trust.
Tho Laws to Kingly Power be a Band,
They are not Slaves to those whom they command.
The Power that God at first to Adam gave,
Was different far from what all Kings now have:
He had no Law but Will; but all Kings now
Are bound by Laws, as all Examples show.
By Laws Kings first were made, and with intent
Men to defend, by Heav’n’s and Man’s consent.
God to the Crown the Regal Power did bring,
And by Consent at first, Men chose their King.
If Kings usurp’d a Power, by force did sway,
The People by no Law were bound t’obey.
This does not in the People place a Right
To dissolve Soveraign sway by force or might.
To Kings, by long succession, there is giv’n
A native Right unto the Throne, by Heav’n:
Who may not be run down by common Cry,
For Vice, Oppression, and for Tyranny.
But if that Kings the tyes of Laws do break,
The People, without fault, have leave to speak;
To shew their Grievances, and seek redress
By lawful means, when Kings and Lords oppress.
Tho they can’t give and take, whene’r they please,
And Kings allow’d to be God’s Images.
The Government you Tyranny must call,
Where Subjects have no Right, and Kings have all.
But if reciprocal a Right there be,
Derived down unto Posteritie,
That side’s in fault, who th’other doth invade,
By which soe’r at first the breach is made:
For Innovation is a dangerous thing,
Whether it comes from People or from King.
To change Foundations which long Ages stood,
Which have prov’d firm, unshaken, sound, and good,
To pull all down, and cast the Frame anew,
Is work for Rebels, and for Tyrants too.
106 Now what relief could Amazia bring,
Fatal indeed to be too good a King?
Friends he had many, but them did not know,
Or else made to believe they were not so:
For all that did ill Ministers oppose,
Were represented to him as his Foes.
Yet there were many thousands in those days,
Who Amazia did both love and praise;
Who for him daily pray’d, and wish’d his good,
And for him would have spent both Coin and Bloud.
Yet these, tho the more numerous, and the best,
Were call’d but murmuring Traytors by the rest:
By such who strain’d till they had crackt the string
Of Government; lov’d Pow’r, and not the King
These daily hightned Amazia’s fears,
And thus they whisper’d to his Royal Ears:
Sir, it is time you now take up the Sword,
And let your Subjects know you are their Lord.
Goodness by Rebels won’t be understood,
And you are much too wonderful and good.
The Jews, a moody, murmuring, stubborn Race,
Grow worse by Favours, and rebel with Grace.
Pamper’d they are, grown rich and fat with ease,
Whom no good Monarch long could ever please.
Freedom and Liberty pretend to want;
That’s still the cry, where they’re on Mischief bent.
Freedom is their Disease; and had they less,
They would not be so ready to transgress.
Give them but Liberty, let them alone,
They shall not onely you, but God dethrone.
Remember, Sir, how your good Father fell;
It was his goodness made them first rebel.
And now the very self-same tract they tread,
To reach your Crown, and then take off your head.
A senseless Plot they stumbl’d on, or made,
To make you of th’old Canaanites afraid.
Still when they mean the Nation to enthral,
With heavie Clamour they cry out on Baal.
107 But these hot Zealots who Baal’s Idols curse,
Bow to their own more ugly far and worse.
Baal would but rob some Jewels from your Crown,
But these would Monarchy itself pull down:
Both Church and State they’l not reform by Halves,
Pull down the Temple, and set up their Calves.
You, and your Priests, they would turn out to Graze,
Nor would they let you smell a Sacrifize,
Those pious Offerings which Priests lasie made,
To Rebels, should, instead of God be paid.
How to the Prey these factious Jews do run!
From you by art they have debauch’d your Son;
That little subtle Instrument of Hell,
Worse than to David was Achitophel,
The young Man tutors, sends him through the Land,
That he the peoples minds may understand;
That he, with winning Charms, might court the Jew,
And draw your fickle Subjects hearts from you.
Alas! already they of you Complain.
And are grown sick of your too peaceful Reign,
Their Lusts grown high, they are debauch’d with Grace,
And like unfrozen Snakes fly in your Face.
These men who now pretend to give you Law,
Stood of the Tyrant Zabed’s power in awe;
He made them crouch who scorn’d a Prince’s sway,
And forc’d them, like dull slaves, his power obey.
Of Israel, and of Juda’s Tribe you spring,
A Lion is the Ensign of a King,
Rouse up your self, in mildness sleep no more,
And make them tremble at your princely roar:
Appear like Jove with Thunder in your hand,
And let the Slaves your power understand;
Strike but the sinning Princes Down to Hell,
The rest will worship you, and ne’r rebel.
Thus these rash Men with their bad Counsels strove,
To turn to hate good Amazia’s Love.
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A Prince to Mercy naturally inclin’d, Not apt to fear, nor of a Jealous Mind, Thought no Man e’r against his Life design’d, | } |
108 But these with Art did dangers represent,
And Plots they fram’d the People never meant.
Each Mole hill they a Mountain did create,
And sought to fright him with his Fathers Fate.
Hushai at last was to a Prison sent,
As a false Traitor to the Government.
Loud murmurs then possest the troubled Jews,
Who were surprised at the fatal News;
His Wisdom they believed their chief support,
Against the evil Instruments at Court;
Nor, by his Actions, did they ever find,
He bore a Trait’rous, or a factious Mind:
And now they thought themselves expos’d to all
The Arts, and Plots of the hid friends to Baal.
Troubled, and discontented, at the last,
Their Eyes upon the noble Prince they cast.
Who fearing lest their discontent and rage,
Should them, to some rebellious Crime ingage,
Both for his Fathers, and his Countries sake,
The murmuring People sought more calm to make.
With a sweet Air, and with a graceful look,
He did command their silence, e’er he spoke.
Then thus he said, and though his words were few,
They fell like Manna, or the Hony Dew;
My Country-men, Let not your discontent
Draw you to actions you will soon repent,
What e’er your fears and jealousies may be,
Let them not break the bonds of Loyalty.
I dare, and you may too, my Father trust,
For he’s so merciful, so good, so just,
That he of no mans Life will make a Prey,
Or take it in an Arbitrary way,
To Heav’n, and to the King submit your cause,
Who never will infringe your ancient Laws;
But if he should an evil Action do,
To run to Arms, ’tis no pretence for you.
The King is Judge of what is just and fit,
And if he judge amiss you must submit,
Tho griev’d you must your constant duty pay,
And your Redress seek in a lawful way.
109 Hushai tho he of Treason be accus’d,
Such loyal precepts in my soul infus’d,
That I the hazard of my life will run,
Rather than prove my self a Rebel Son.
Our Foes, have sought to’ infect my Father’s mind,
To think, you to Rebellion are inclin’d:
To stir you to Rebellion is their aim,
And they are mad, to see you justly tame.
Upon your Heads, they fain would lay their sin,
’Tis War they seek, but would have you begin:
Pretence they want, who for the King do seem,
To bring in, and set up Eliakim.
I am afraid the Baalites cursed Plot,
By many laught at, and by most forgot,
Is carried on still, in their hidden Mine,
I fear, but dare not, the event, divine.
May Heav’n defend my Father’s Life, and late,
Full ripe with Age, in peace, may he’yield to Fate.
I know, my Friends, for Him’s your chiefest Care,
For him, as much as for your selves, you fear,
Upon his Life our happiness depends,
With it the peace of all Judea ends,
Be vigilant, your foes Designs prevent,
Let not loud murmures shew your discontent:
Your Loyal Duty to your Soveraign pay,
Your Griefs present him in a Lawful way:
Be not too anxious for our common Friend,
God, and his Innocence will him defend:
Sit down in quiet, murmure not, but pray,
Submit to Heaven, your King, and Laws obey.
Youth, Beauty, and the Grace wherewith he spoke,
The Eyes, Ears, Hearts, of all the people took,
Their murmures then to joyful shouts were turn’d,
And they rejoyc’d, who lately murmuring mourn’d:
With Loyalty he did their Breasts inflame,
And they with shouts blest Azaria’s name.
The joyful Cry th’row all the City flew,
God save the King, and Azaria too.
To him the Princes, his best Friends resort,
Resolv’d as Suppliants, to repair to Court;
110 In humble wise, to shew the King their Grief,
And on their bended Knees to seek Relief.
They ’approach’d the Throne, to it their homage paid,
Then to the King, the Loyal Nashon said.
Great Sir, whom all good Subjects truly Love,
Tho all things that you do they can’t approve,
We, whom the Throne has with high Honours blest,
Present you here the prayers of the rest;
Our bended Knees, as low as Earth we bow,
And humbly prostrate supplicate you now:
The blessing of your Love to us restore,
And raise us to your Favour, Sir, once more.
Where is the Joy, the Peace, and Quiet flown,
All had, when first you did ascend the Throne;
Now murmuring discontents assault our Ears,
And loud Complaints of jealousies, and fears:
Bad instruments help to blow up this Fire,
And with ill minds, their own worse Arts admire,
Whilst, by their means, you think your Friends your Foes,
For your best friends, your Enemies suppose;
Suspect your Loyal Subjects, and believe
The Sanhedrim would you of Rights bereive.
Your people, who do love your gentle Sway,
And willingly their God, and you obey,
Who for Religion ever zealous were,
For that, for you, and for themselves do fear.
Clear as the Sun, by sad effects they find,
A Baalite to succeed you is design’d:
Sir, they would not dispute with you, his right,
But they can n’re indure a Baalite:
Tho whilst you live, they are secure and blest,
Yet are they with a thousand fears opprest,
Think your Life still in danger of the Plot,
Which now is laugh’d at, and almost forgot.
They see the Baalites Hellish Plot run down,
And on the Pharisees a false one thrown;
Your zealous faithful Jews all Rebels made,
Their ruine hatch’d, you, and themselves betray’d.
Oh! Sir, before things to extreams do run,
Remember, at the least, you have a Son,
111 Let the Sanhedrim with your wisdom joyn,
To keep unbroken still the Royal line;
And to secure our fears, that after you,
None shall succeed but a believing Jew.
Sir, this is all your Loyal Subjects Crave,
On you, as on a God, they cry to save.
Kings are like Gods on Earth, when they redress,
Their peoples Griefs, and save them in distress.
With loads of careful thoughts, the King opprest,
And long revolving in his Royal Breast,
Th’ event of Things——at last he silence broke,
And, with an awful Majesty, he spoke.
I’ve long in Peace Judeas Scepter swaid,
None can Complain, I Justice have delay’d:
My Clemency, and Mercy has been shown,
Blood, and Revenge did ne’r pollute my Throne;
I and my People happy, kindly strove,
Which should exceed, my Mercy or their Love:
Who, till of late, more ready were to give
Supplies to me, than I was to receive.
Oh! happy days, and oh! unhappy change;
That makes my Sanhedrims, and my people strange,
And now, when I am in the Throne grown old,
With grief I see my Subjects Love prove cold.
They fear not my known Mercy to offend,
And with my awful Justice dare contend;
But yet their Crimes my mercy shan’t asswage,
I’m ready to forgive th’ offending Age,
And though they should my Kingly power slight,
I’le still keep for them my forgiving right.
I feel a tenderness within me spring,
I am my Peoples Father, and their King,
And tho I think, they may have done me wrong.
I can’t remember their offences long.
Nature is mov’d, and sues for a Reprieve,
They are my Children, and I must forgive.
My many jealous fears I shan’t repeat,
My Heart with a strong pulse of Love doth beat;
Nature I feel has made a sudden start,
And a fresh source springs from the Father’s heart.
112 A stubborn Bow, drawn by the force of men,
The force remov’d, flies swifty back agen.
’Tis hard a Fathers nature to o’ercome,
How easily does she her force assume!
Sh’ has o’er my Soul an easie Conquest won,
And I remember now I have a Son,
Whose Youth had long been my paternal Care,
Rais’d to the height his noble frame could bear,
And Heav’n has seem’d to give his Soul a turn,
As if ordain’d by Fate for Empire born.
By our known Laws I have the Scepter sway’d,
By them I govern’d, them my Rule I made.
To them I sought to frame my soveraign Will,
By them my Subjects I will govern still:
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They, not the People, shall proclaim my Heir, Yet I will hearken to my Subjects Prayer, And of a Baalite will remove their fear. | } |
From hence I’le banish every Priest of Baal,
And the wise Sanhedrim together call:
That Body with the Kingly Head shall join,
Their Counsel and their Wisdom mix with mine,
All former strife betwixt us be forgot,
And in Oblivion buried every Plot.
We’l try to live in Love and Peace again,
As when I first began my happy Reign.
Before our Trait’rous Foes with secret toil
Did fair Judea’s blessed Peace embroil.
May all my latter days excel my first,
And he who then disturbs our Peace be curst.