Of the same Tribe was Hanan, Ithreams Friend, From that fam'd Sire, the Long Robes Glory, sprung, In Sanedrims his Countries Pillar long; Long had he fadom'd all the Depths of State; } Could with that strength, that ponderous Sense debate, } As turn'd the Scale of Nations with the weight: } Till subtley made by Spightful Honour Great, Prefer'd to Israels Chief Tribunal Seat, Made in a higher Orb his Beams dispense, To hush his Formidable Eloquence.

But Israels numerous Worthies are too long And Great a Theam for one continued Song. Yet These by bold flagitious Tongues run down, Made all Conspirers against Davids Crown.

Nay, and there was a Time, had Hell prevail'd, Nor Perjury and Subornation fail'd, When a long List of Names, for Treason doom'd, Had Israels Patriots in one Grave entomb'd: A List, with such fair Loyal Colours laid, Even to no less than Royal Hands convey'd. And the great Mover in this pious Fraud, A Dungeon Slave redeem'd by'a Midnight Bawd: Then made by Art a Swearer of Renown, Nurst and embrac'd by th'Heir of Judahs Crown: Encourag'd too by Pension for Reward, With his forg'd Scrowls for Guiltless Blood prepared. Poor Engine for a greatness so sublime: } But oh, a Cause by which their Baal must climb, } Ennobles both the Actor and the Crime. }

Yet This, and all Things else now quite blown o're, And Absolom, his Israels Fear no more: Luster and Pride shall hem his radiant Brow; All Knees shall fall, and prostrate Nations bow. By Heav'ns, he is, he will, he must, he shall Be Israels Heroe, Friend, Saint, Idol, all. What though provok'd with all the crying sins Of Murmuring Slaves, excluding Sanedrins: By profane Crowds in dirt his Prophets spurn'd, And ev'n his Gods in mock Processions burn'd: Himself from Israel into Hebron sent, And doom'd to little less than Banishment. In spight of all his Scrowls to Babylon; } And all the promis'd Wonders to be done, } When Egypts Frogs should croak on Judahs Throne. } Though of a Faith that propagates in Blood; Of Passions unforgiving, less withstood Then Seas and Tempests, and as Deaf as they. } Yet all Divine shall be his Godlike Sway, } And his calm Reign but one long Halcyon Day. } And this Great Truth he's damn'd that dares deny; } 'Gainst Absolom even Oracles would lye, } Though Sense and Reason Preach 'tis Blasphemy. } Then let out dull Mistaken Terrour cease, When even our Comets speak all Health and Peace.

FINIS.

ERRATA.

[Transcriber's Note:

The author's Errata list was printed at the bottom of the page in a single block of small type, heavily smudged and not always legible. In at least one case, the requested change appears to be what the text already says. For these reasons, changes listed have not been made. The text of each complete line is given in brackets.]

The Reader is desired to Correct these following Mistakes.

Page 1. line 12. for Hold, read Held. [Hold but their Crowns at his Almighty Will.] p. 4. l. 22. r. Ships; [Dan from her Ship, and Asher on the Shore.] ibid. l. 26. for Kindl'd r. Bank'd; [Kindl'd their embattel'd Fires for Deborah's Wars,] ibid. l. 32. r. the Mighty; [The Mighty Deborah's, God's, and Israel's Foes.] ibid. l. 37 for they r. thus; [Thus sung, they conquer'd Deborah; thus fell] p. 7. l. 18. for poor, r. weak; [Preach to poor Female half-Soul'd Proselytes.] p. 9. l. 3. & 4. for his r. a; [What Knees, what Necks to mount him to his Throne; What Gems, what Stars to sparkle in his Crown?] l. 6. for the, r. ye; [But oh the Pow'rs, by treacherous snakes beguil'd,] ibid. l. 20. r. Walls; the Billows pour; [Down crack the Chrystal Walls the Billows pow'r,] p. 12. l. 11. r. lov'd Israel; [That still in its Lord Israel takes delight,] p. 19. l. 27. for loo r. race [illegible, possibly "rate"] [To loo the Bloodhounds off to save the Plot.] p. 22. l. 10. r. Excluding. [Th'encluding Sanedrims Resolves once shake;]

[Additional errors and anomalies noted by transcriber:

(Title, after dedication) Absalom Senior catchword on previous page has "Abso-" Whilst th'universal Drones buz to his Hives. apostrophe missing If this last Masterpiece requires a Soul. "f" ("If") invisible The Uppermost, indisputably Best. text reads "indsputably" This final Resolution made, at last line printed after break, but not indented But t'Heavens Vice-gerents, Soul, Sense, Reason, all, the word "vice-gerent" occurs twice Why did not th'Oaths of his once-great Colleagues, apostrophe missing Th'Embroiderd Mantle from his Neck he threw. apostrophe missing By profane Crowds in dirt his Prophets spurn'd, apostrophe invisible ]

* * * * *

Poetical Reflections on a Late

POEM

Entituled, Absalom and Achitophel.

By a Person of Honour.

[Decoration]

LONDON: Printed for Richard Janeway. 1681.



TO THE READER.

If ever anything, call'd a Poem, deserv'd a severe Reflection, that of Absalom and Achitophel may justly contract it. For tho' Lines can never be purg'd from the dross and filth they would throw on others (there being no retraction that can expiate the conveying of persons to an unjust and publick reproach); yet the cleansing of their fames from a design'd pollution, may well become a more ingenious Pen than the Author of these few reflections will presume to challenge.

To epitomize which scandalous Phamphlet (unworthy the denomination of Poesy) no eye can inspect it without a prodigious amazement; the abuses being so gross and deliberate, that it seems rather a Capital or National Libel, than personal exposures, in order to an infamous detraction. For how does he character the King, but as a broad figure of scandalous inclinations, or contriv'd unto such irregularities, as renders him rather the property of Parasites and Vice, than suitable to the accomplishment of so excellent a Prince? Nay, he forces on King David such a Royal resemblance, that he darkens his sanctity in spite of illuminations from Holy Writ.

Next (to take as near our King as he could) he calumniates the Duke of Monmouth with that height of impudence, that his Sense is far blacker than his Ink, exposing him to all the censures that a Murderer, a Traytor, or what a Subject of most ambitious evil can possibly comprehend: and it is some wonder, that his Lines also had not hang'd him on a Tree, to make the intended Absalom more compleat.

As to my Lord Shaftsbury (in his collusive Achitophel), what does he other than exceed Malice it self? or that the more prudent deserts of that Peer were to be so impeach'd before hand by his impious Poem, as that he might be granted more emphatically condign of the Hangman's Ax; And which his Muse does in effect take upon her to hasten.

And if the season be well observ'd, when this Adulterate Poem was spread, it will be found purposely divulg'd near the time when this Lord, with his other Noble Partner, were to be brought to their Tryals. And I suppose this Poet thought himself enough assur'd of their condemnation; at least, that his Genius had not otherwise ventur'd to have trampled on persons of such eminent Abilities, and Interest in the Nation. A consideration, I confess, incited my Pen (its preceding respect being paid to the Duke of Monmouth) to vindicate their Reputations where I thought it due.

And some are not a little mistaken in their judgments of persons, if any Kingdom has at this time Two men of their Dignity, of more extraordinary Understandings: Which may (if well consider'd) be some inducement to their future preservation and esteem. As I have endeavour'd chiefly to clear their abuse, so I have pass'd divers considerable persons, under as malign inclinations of this Author's; conceiving, that what I have said for the Principals, may remove such smaller prejudices as are on the value of others on the same concern.

His most select and pecuniary Favourites, I have but barely touch'd, in respect his praise includes a concomitant reprehension, if well apprehended. Besides, I was unwilling to discourage any, that for the future may desire to be admir'd by him according to their liberality. A method, that perhaps may in time set up some Merchants of Parnassus, where the Indies of Fame seem lately discover'd, and may be purchas'd per Centum, according to modern example.

As to the Character of Amiel, I confess my Lines are something pointed, the one reason being, that it alludes much to a manner of expression of this Writer's, as may be seen by the marginal Notes; and a second will be soon allowed. The figure of Amiel has been so squeez'd into Paint, that his soul is seen in spite of the Varnish.

And none will deny, but it is as easie to send Truth backward, as it is to spur Falsities egregiously forward, and might have caus'd any Asse, as knowing as Balaam's, to have rebuk'd such a Poet as will needs prophecy against the sense of Heaven and Men. But I have enough of this Amiell, as well as of his Muse, unless that by his means it occasions a further account. And for what is mine here, It will at worst contract censure, in respect it is a brief reflection on a very large Libel. And tho' I believe it did not cost (tho' that be not offer'd for an excuse) the tenth part of the time of the other. As to my Preface, I was willing that he should find, that this smaller work has some Nose.—Tho' I am no more bound to have my Face known by it, than he is willing to obscure his by a Nameless Preamble.



[Asterisks used as side/footnote references are from the original text.]

Poetical Reflections ON A POEM,

CALLED Absolon and Achitophel.

When late Protectorship was Canon-Proof, And Cap-a-pe had seiz'd on Whitehall-Roof, And next, on Israelites durst look so big, That Tory-like, it lov'd not much the Whigg: A Poet there starts up, of wondrous Fame; Whether Scribe or Pharisee, his Race doth name, Or more t'intrigue the Metaphor of Man, Got on a Muse by Father-Publican: [Sidenote: A Committee-Man.] For 'tis not harder much, if we tax Nature, That Lines should give a Poet such a Feature; Than that his Verse a Hero should us show, [Sidenote: Sir Denzill Hollis seeks annum mirabilis.] Produc'd by such a Feat, as famous too. His Mingle such, what Man presumes to think, But he can Figures daub with Pen and Ink. A Grace our mighty Nimrod late beheld, When he within the Royal Palace dwell'd, And saw 'twas of import if Lines could bring His Greatness from Usurper, to be King: [Sidenote: See his Poem on Cromwel.] Or varnish so his Praise, that little odds Should seem 'twixt him, and such called Earthly Gods. And tho no Wit can Royal Blood infuse, No more than melt a Mother to a Muse: Yet much a certain Poet undertook, That Men and Manners deals in without-Book. And might not more to Gospel-Truth belong, Than he (if Christened) does by name of John. This Poet, who that time much squanderd thought, Of which some might bring Coyn, whilst some none brought, As Men that hold their Brains of powerful sense, Will least on Poet's Tales bestow their pence, Tho he such Dispensations to endear, Had notch'd his Sconce just level with his Ear. An Emblem in these days of much import, When Crop-ear'd Wits had such a Modish Court. Tho some from after-deeds much fear the Fate, That such a Muse may for its Lugs create. As Stars may without Pillories dispence, To slit some Ears for Forgeries of sense, Which Princes, Nobles, and the Fame of Men, Sought to bespatter by a worthless Pen. But leaving this to Circumstances fit, With what thence spreads this Renegado-wit. We'll tell you how his Court he now doth make, } And what choice Things and Persons he doth take, } That Lines for Guinnys might more liquorish speak. } To heigten which we'll to his Muse advance, Which late discover'd its Judaick Trance: Where Absalon's in English Colours di'd, That in a Duke, a Traitor might be spi'd. Or Heaven on him did Graces so bestow, As only could confer their Pageant Show; Giving his Glories no more fast Renown, Than with more Honour to be taken down: Like Victimes by some Sacrificers drest, Must fall adorn'd, which then they pity least. But fear not Monmouth, if a Libel's quill, Would dregs of Venom on thy Vertue spill; Since no desert so smoothly is convey'd, As next it's Fame, no canker'd Patch is laid; Thou didst no Honour seek, but what's thy due, And such Heaven bids thee not relinquish too. Whilst it's Impressions so oblig'd thy Task, As leave from Earth thy Soul declin'd to ask. If this thy Error were, what Influ'nce can Excuse the Duty of more wilfull Man; With such whose Figures shew that squinting Paint, Whence peeps a Mungril Babylonish Saint. Thy Soul's Religion's Prop, and Native Grace, Rome, (fears its onsets) looking on the place; What Altitude can more exalt thy Praise, Tho best Devotion should thy Trophies raise, And 'tis perhaps from thy Diviner Bliss, That some may fear their Souls are seen amiss. As what so high does Emulation mount, As Greatness when surpass'd on Heaven's Account; And if th' Ambition would in this excel, 'Twas but to be more great in doing well; And must rebate the worst that Fates intend, Whilst Heaven and England is at once thy Friend. This just Encomium, tho too brief it be To represent thy least Epitome; And but unto thy larger Figure joyn'd, As small proportions are from great design'd; Tho where a line one worth of thine can speak, It does alone, a Poem's Greatness make; Leaving this Hero to his spotless Fame, (As who besides this Wretch will it blaspheme) Or in a Libels Allegorick Way, Men falsely figur'd, to the world convey, Libels the enormous Forgery of sense, Stamp'd on the brow of human Impudence; The blackest wound of Merit, and the Dart, That secret Envy points against Desert. The lust of Hatred pander'd to the Eye T'allure the World's debauching by a Lie. Th'rancrous Favourite's masquerading Guilt, Imbitt'ring venom where he'd have it spilt. The Courts depression in a fulsom Praise; A Test it's Ignoramus worst conveys, A lump of Falshood's Malice does disperse, Or Toad when crawling on the Feet of Verse. Fame's impious Hireling and mean Reward, The Knave that in his Lines turns up his Card, Who, tho no Rabby, thought in Hebrew wit, He forc'd Allusions can closly fit. To Jews or English, much unknown before, He made a Talmud on his Muses score; Though hop'd few Criticks will its Genius carp, So purely Metaphors King David's Harp, And by a soft Encomium, near at hand, Shews Bathsheba Embrac'd throughout the Land. But this Judaick Paraphrastick Sport We'll leave unto the ridling Smile of Court. Good Heav'n! What timeful Pains can Rhymers take, When they'd for Crowds of Men much Pen-plot make? Which long-Beak'd Tales and filch'd Allusions brings, As much like Truth, as 'tis the Woodcock sings. What else could move this Poet to purloin So many Jews, to please the English Swine? Or was it that his Brains might next dispense To adapt himself a Royal Evidence? Or that he'd find for Dugdale's Wash some Spell, In stead of once more dipp'd in Winifred's Well; And ope his Budget, like Pandora's Box, Whence Overt-acts more Protestants should Pox, Which might the Joyner's Ghost provoke to rise, And fright such Tales with other Popish Lies? But Starr's or Ignoramus's may not give Those Swearers longer swinge by Oaths to live. A Providence much English Good protects, And sends Testees to Trade for new Effects; Which none of the Long-Robe, 'tis hop'd, can aid, So well by Oaths the Devil's already paid; And most suppose, if e're both Plots can die, Or eat up one anothers Perjury, 'Twou'd Pluto strangely pose to find a Third, Sould he in his a Popish Legion Lard. A Policy some Poems much embrace, As is discern'd in Shaftsbury's Great Case; Where Verse so vile an Obloquy betray, As for a Statist-Jew they'd him convey. Tho hard it is to understand what Spell Can conjure up in him Achitophel, Or tax this Peer with an Abused Sense Of his so deep and apt Intelligence: A Promptitude by which the Nation's shown To be in Thought concurrent with his own. Shaftsbury! A Soul that Nature did impart To raise her Wonder in a Brain and Heart; Or that in him produc'd, the World might know, She others did with drooping Thought bestow. As in Mans most perspicuous Soul, we find The nearest Draught of her Internal Mind, Tho it appears her highest Act of State, When Human Conducts she does most compleat, And place them so, for Mankinds good, that they Are fit to Guide, where others miss their Way; It being in Worldly Politiques less Great To be a Law-maker, than Preserve a State. In Publick Dangers Laws are unsecure, As strongest Anchors can't all Winds endure; Though 'tis in Exigents the wisest Ease To know who best can ply when Storms encrease; Whilst other Prospects, by mistaking Fate, Through wrong Preventions, more its Bad dilate. Whence some their Counter-Politicks extend, To ruine such can Evils best amend. A Thwarting Genius, which our Nation more Than all its head-strong Evils does deplore; And shews what violent Movements such inform, That where a Calm should be, they force a Storm; As if their Safety chiefly they must prize In being rid of Men esteem'd more Wise. To this Great, Little Man, we'll T'other joyn, Held Sufferers by one Tripartite Design. As from a Cubick Power, or Three-fold Might, Roots much expand, as Authors prove aright; But of such Managements we'll little say, Or shamm'd Intrigues, for Fame left to convey; Which may by peeping through a Gown-mans Sleeve, Tell such grave Tales, Men cannot well believe: With what for Plots and Trials has been done, As Whores depos'd, before away they run; All which was well discern'd by numerous Sense, Before the Doctors py'd Intelligence, Who, with some Motley Lawyers, took much care To gain the Caput of this Knowing Peer; When after so much Noise, and nothing prov'd, Heaven thank'd, to Freedom he's at last remov'd, Leaving a Low-Bridge Cerberus to try In what Clerks Pate his monstrous Fee does lie; Or by the help of Tory-Roger tell How Sacred Gain-Prerogativ'd should spell. But these are Thoughts may fit some Pensive Skulls, Or Men concern'd to bait their several Bulls; Whilst on this Peer we must some Lines bestow, Tho more he merits than best Verse can show: Great in his Name, but greater in his Parts, Judgment sublim'd, with all its strong Deserts; A Sense above Occasions quick surprize, That he no Study needs to make him Wise, Or labour'd Thoughts, that trains of Sinews knit, His Judgment always twin'd unto his Wit; That from his clear Discussions Men may know He does to wonder other Brains out-do. Whilst they for Notions search they can't compact, His Genius fitly stands prepar'd to act. Admir'd of Man, that in thy Sense alone So ready dost exalt high Reason's Throne; That Men abate Resentments to expect Thou mayst rise Greater, having past Neglect. A Sacred Method Kings receive from Heaven, That still does Cherish, when it has Forgiven; Which from our Princes Soul so largely flows, That Mercy's Channel with his Greatness goes. No Arbitrary Whispers him can guide To swell his Rule beyond its genuine Tide: Whilst other Kings their rugged Scepters see Eclips'd in his more soft Felicity; Whose Goodness can all Stress of State remove, So fitly own'd the Subjects Fear and Love. My Verse might here discharge its hasty Flight, } As Pencils that attempt Immortal Heighth } Droop in the Colours should convey its Light, } Did not this Poet's Lines upon me call For some Reflexions on a Lower Fall; Where he by Rhyming, a Judaick Sham, Obtrudes for Israelites some Seeds of Cham. And this Inspexion needs no further go Than where his Pen does most Indulgent show: And 'tis no wonder if his Types of Sense Should stroke such Figures as give down their Pence; A Crime for which some Poets Lines so stretch, As on themselves they Metaphor Jack Ketch. Tho small the Varnish is to Humane Name, Where Cogging Measures rob the truth of Fame. And more to do his skew'd Encomiums right, Some Persons speak by him their motly Sight: Or much like Hudibras, on Wits pretence, Some Lines for Rhyme, and some to gingle Sense. Who else would Adriel, Jotham, Hushai, fit, With loathed Amiell, for a Court of Wit? For, as Men Squares of Circles hardly find, Some think these Measures are as odly joyn'd. What else could Adriell's sharpness more abuse, Than headlong dubb'd, to own himself a Muse, Unless to spread Poetick Honours so As should a Muse give each St. George's Show? A Mode of Glory might Parnassus fit, Tho our Sage Prince knows few he'd Knight for Wit. And thus this Freak is left upon the File, Or as 'tis written in this Poet's Stile. Next, as in Course, to Jotham we'll descend, Thoughtful it seems which Side he'll next befriend, As thinking Brains can caper to and fro, Before they jump into the Box they'd go. And 'tis a moody Age, as many guess, When some with busie Fears still forward press; As 'tis Ambitions oft-deluding Cheat To tempt Mens aims, secureless of defeat. Hushai the Compass of th'Exchequer guides, Propense enough unto the North besides: As what can steady Stations more allure, Than such, a Princely Bed does first secure? Whose Part none are so ignorant to ask, And does no less employ his Ends and Task. But quitting these, we must for Prospect pass To gaping Amiell, as reflects our Glass. The Him indeed of his own *Western Dome, [Sidenote: See his, p. 27.] So near his praiseful Poet Sense may come: For *Amiell, Amiell, who cannot endite [Sidenote: See his, p. 28.] Of his Thin Value won't disdain to write? The very Him with Gown and Mace did rule The Sanedrim, when guided by a Fool. The Him that did both Sense and Reason shift, That he to gainful Place himself might lift. The very Him that did adjust the Seed Of such as did their Votes for Money breed. The Mighty Him that frothy Notions vents, In hope to turn them into Presidents. The Him of Hims, although in Judgment small, That fain would be the biggest at Whitehall. The He that does for Justice Coin postpone, As on Account may be hereafter shown. If this plain English be, 'tis far from Trick, Though some Lines gall, where others fawning lick; Which fits thy Poet, Amiell, for thy Smiles, If once more paid to blaze thy hated Toils. Of Things and Persons might be added more, Without Intelligence from Forreign Shore, Or what Designs Ambassadors contrive, Or how the Faithless French their Compass guide: But Lines the busie World too much supply, Besides th'Effects of evil Poetry, Which much to Tory-Writers some ascribe, Though hop'd no Furies of the Whiggish Tribe Will on their Backs such Lines or Shapes convey, To burn with Pope, on Great November's Day.

FINIS.

[Erratum:

And such Heaven bids thee not relinquish too. text reads "relinqnish" ]

* * * * *

AZARIA AND HUSHAI,

A POEM.

Quod cuique visum est sentiant.

LONDON, Printed for Charles Lee, An. Dom. 1682.



TO THE READER.

I shall not go about, either to excuse, or justifie the Publishing of this Poem; for that would be much more an harder Task than the Writing of it: But however, I shall say, in the words of the Author of the incomparable Absalom and Achitophel, That I am sure the Design is honest. If Wit and Fool be the Consequence of Whig and Tory, no doubt, but Knave and Ass may be Epithets plentifully bestowed upon me by the one party, whilst the other may grant me more favourable ones, than perhaps I do deserve. But as very few are Judges of Wit, so I think, much fewer of honesty; since Interest and Faction on either side, prejudices and blinds the Judgment; and the violence of Passion makes neither discernible in an Adversary. I know not whether my Poem has a Genius to force its way against prejudice: Opinion sways much in the World, and he that has once gained it writes securely. I speak not this any ways to lessen the merits of an Author, whose Wit has deservedly gained the Bays; but in this I have the advantage, since, as I desire not Glory or vain applause, I can securely wrap my self in my own Cloud, and remain unknown, whilest he is exposed through his great Lustre. I shall never envy what I desire not, nor am I altogether so doting, as to believe the Issues of my own Brain to exceed all others, and to be so very fond of them, (as most Authors, especially Poets, are) as to think them without fault, or be so blinded as not to see their blemishes, and that they are excelled by others; yet since Poems are like Children, it may be allowed me to be naturally inclined to have some good Opinion of my own, and not to believe this Poem altogether despicable or ridiculous. The Ancients say, that every thing hath two handles, I have laid hold of that opposite to the Author of Absalom: As to Truth, who has the better hold, let the World judge; and it is no new thing, for the same Persons, to be ill or well represented, by several parties. I hope then, I may be excused as well as another, since I have told my Dreams with the same Liberty, for the fancies of Poets are no more than waking Dreams, and never imposed as dogmatical precepts, which are more agreeable to truth or falshood, or according to the Poets Language, which proceed from the Horny or Ivory Port, will be sentenced according to the Humour and Interest of several Parties who in spite of our Teeth will be our judges. Where I have been satyrical, 'tis without Malice or Revenge; and though I brag not of my Talent therein, I could have said much worse, of some Enemies to our Jewish Heroe. He that will lash others, ought not to be angry if the like be returned to himself: Lex talionis is a general and natural Law. I call not this an Answer to Absalom, I have nothing to do with him, he was a Rebel to his Father; my Azaria a good Son, influenced by a worthy and Loyal Counsellor, and Achitophel and Hushai were men of contrary Opinions, and different Principles: And if Poets (as it is often brought for their excuse, when they vary from known History) ought to represent Persons as they ought to be, I have not transcurred the Precepts of Poetry, and Absalom is not so good a Poem, because his Character is not so agreeable to the virtue of an Heroe, as this of Azaria is: But certainly when Poetry and Truth are joyned together, and that the persons are truly what they are represented, and liv'd their Character, the glory is double, both to the Heroe and the Poet: And I could wish, that the same Hand, that drew the Rebellious Son, with so much Ingenuity and Skill, would out do mine, in shewing the virtues of an obedient Son and loyal Counsellor, since he may have as much Truth for a Foundation to build upon, the Artful Structure of the Heroes Glory, with his own Fame and Immortality.



AZARIA AND HUSHAI,

A POEM.

In Impious Times, when Priest-craft was at height, And all the Deadly Sins esteemed light; When that Religion only was a Stale, And some bow'd down to God, and some to Baal; When Perjury was scarce esteem'd a Sin, And Vice, like flowing Tides, came rowling in; When Luxury, Debauch, and Concubine, The sad Effects of Women and of Wine, Rag'd in Judea and Jerusalem, Good Amazia of great David's Stem, God-like and great in Peace did rule that Land, And all the Jews stoop'd to his just Command. Long now in Sion had he Peace enjoy'd, After that Civil Broils the Land destroy'd: Plenty and Peace attended on his Reign, And Solomon's Golden days return'd again; When the Old Canaanites, who there did lurk, Began to find both God and King new Work: For Amazia, tho' he God did love, Had not cast out Baal's Priests, and cut down every Grove. Too oft Religion's made pretence for Sin, About it in all Ages Strife has been; But Int'rest, which at bottom doth remain, Which still converts all Godliness to Gain, What e'er Pretence is made, is the true Cause, That moves the Priest, and like the Load-stone draws. The Canaanites of Old that Land possess'd, And long therein Idolatry profess'd; Till Sins of Priests, and of the Common Rout, Caus'd God and his good Kings to cast them out. Their Idols were pull'd down, their Groves destroy'd, Strict Laws against them, and their Worship made. The Heathen Priests were banish'd from the Land Of Baal, no Temple suffer'd was to stand; And all Succeeding Kings made it their Care, They should no more rear up their Altars there. If some mild Kings did wink at their Abode, They to the Jews still prov'd a Pricking-goad: Growing more bold, they penal Laws defy'd, And like tormenting Thorns, stuck in their Side. The busy Priests had lost their gainful Trade, Revenge and Malice do then Hearts invade; And since by Force they can't themselves restore, Nor gain the Sway they in Judea bore, With Hell they Joyn their secret Plots to bring Destruction to Judea and its King.

The Chemerarims, the learnedst Priests, of all The numerous Swarms which did belong to Baal, Bred up in subtil Arts, to Jews well known, And fear'd for Bloody Morals of their own; Who in the Cause of Baal no one would spare, But for his sake on all Mankind make War, Counting it lawful Sacred Kings to smite, Who favor'd not their God, or was no Baalite, These were the Idol's known, and great Support, Who in Disguise creep into every Court, Where they soon Faction raise, and by their Arts, Insinuate into the Princes Hearts: Wriggle themselves into Intreagues of State, Sweet Peace destroy, and Bloody Wars create. Unwearied still, they deep Designs pursue; What can't a Chemarim, and Belzeebub do? For cunning Plot, Trepan, for Oaths and Sham, The Devil must give place to Chemarim. These subtil Priests, in Habit black and grave; Each man a Saint in shew, in Heart a Knave, Did in Judea swarm, grew great withall, And like th' Egyptian Frogs to Court they crawl: Where, like them too, they never are at rest; But Bed and Board of Kings, with Filth infest. To every Shape they could themselves transform, Angels could seem, but still their Aim was Harm. They all the Sects among the Jews could ape, And went about disguiss'd in every Shape. One imitates the Zealous Pharisee, The Essens this, the dammee Sadduce he; And such their ready, and their subtil Wit, For every Trade, and every Science fit: They Credit got, and stole into the Heart, And from their God, did many Souls pervert, Who seeming Jews, or what they were before, In Secret did the Idol Baal adore; Whole false Religion was but loose, and few Could bear the Righteous Strictness of the true.

Thus these Disciples of the hellish Brood, Disguis'd, among the Jews, themselves intrude, And with the purer Wheat, their Tares they sow, Saw their bad Crop near to an Harvest grow, And hop'd that they again should rule the State: For e'er the days of good Jehosaphat, Through all the Land Baal's Worship was allow'd, And King and People to gross Idols bow'd. The Priests, like Bloody Tyrants did command; They and their Gods, did wholly rule the Land; And every one who would not bow to Baal, Fled thence, or else by Fire, or Sword did fall: But that good King a Reformation made, Their Idols, and their Groves he quite destroy'd; In every place their Altars overthrew, And Chemarims he banished or slew. Since when (except in Athaliah's Reign, Who for a space, set Idols up again, Tormenting those to Death who would not turn, And did the Jewish Rabbins slay or burn) These crafty Priests, by Plots did never cease, To spoil the Beauty of Judea's Peace. Whilst Joash reign'd, by sly and subtil Arts, They first estrang'd from him his Peoples Hearts. Saw Faction's Sparks, and unseen blew the Fire, Till Rebells 'gainst that good King did conspire: Then Cursed Zabed of proud Ammon's Line, And Moabitish Jehozabad joyn, And to their Side some Pharisees they drew, (Joash did to their Sect no Favor shew) And th' Essens, who then daily numerous grew, Rebell, and their good King, like Murtherers, slew. Then Amazia over Jordan fled, Till God had struck the Tyrant Zabed dead; When all his Subjects, who his Fate did moan, With joyful Hearts, restor'd him to his Throne; Who then his Father's Murtherers destroy'd, And a long, happy, peaceful Reign enjoy'd. Belov'd of all, for merciful was He, Like God, in the Superlative Degree. The Jewish Sects he did not seek to quell, Yet Laws he made they might no more rebell: Wisely about them made of Laws a Fence, Yet kind, would not oppress their Conscience. The Pharisee, a very numerous Sect, Above the rest were in their Worship strict: In their own Synagogues he let them pray, And worship God after their stricter way. In Peace all liv'd, and former strife forgot, The Chemarims and Hell had hatch'd a Plot: A Plot form'd in the deep Abyss below, Law and Religion both to overthrow. The King was by their Bloody Swords to fall, That all Judea might submit to Baal. Great were their Hopes, and deep was their Design. The Train already laid to spring their Mine; Not dreaming Heav'n could their Plots betray, They only waited an auspicious day. Nor fail'd their Plot for want of Common Sence, As some endeavor'd to persuade the Prince: For with much Art, great Industry and Care, They all things for their black Design prepare. Not hatch'd by Common Brains, or men of Earth, Nor was't the Issue of a suddain Birth; But long designing, and well laid it seems, By Baal's Arch-priests, and subtil Chemarins. The Canaanites dispersed through the Land, O'er whom Baal's Priests had absolute Command, Were bound with Oaths, the Priests Religious Charms, To Secresie, and furnished with Arms. Heads they had got, as well as Hands to fight, Some zealous Princes of the Canaanites, Who ready were to guide the Common Rout, So soon as their Conspiracy broke out. AEgypt of Warlike Jews was still afraid, } Lest as of Old, they should that Land invade, } To further this Design had promis'd Aid. } Thus on a firm Foundation they had wrought Their great Design, well built to Humane thought: Tho' nothing that weak Mortals e'er design'd, But Folly seems to the Eternal Mind, Who blasting man's vain Projects, lets him know, He sits above, sees and rules all below. This wicked Plot, the Nations Bain and Curse, So bad no man can represent it worse: Want only Amazia to destroy, But that they might the Rites of Baal enjoy: For the good Amazia being gone, They had design'd a Baalite for the Throne. Of all their Hopes and Plots, here lay the Store: For what Encouragement could they have more, When they beheld the King's own Brother fall, From his Religion, and to worship Baal? The Priest well knew what Pow'r, and what Controul He had usurp'd o're ev'ry Baalite's Soul, That such a Prince must their God's Cause pursue, And do whatever they would have him do; Else from his Throne he should be curs'd and damn'd: For Baal's High-Priest, a Right t' all Crowns had claim'd. An Article 'tis of a Baalite's Faith, That o're Crown'd Heads a Sovereignty he hath.

Thus on a sure Foundation, as they thought, They had their Structure to Perfection wrought When God, who shews regard to Sacred Kings, } The Plot and Plotters to Confusion brings, } And in a moment down their Babel flings. } A Levite, who had Baalite turn'd, and bin One of the Order of the Chemarim, Who in the Plot had deeply been concern'd, And all their horrid Practices had learn'd; Smote in his Conscience with a true Remorse, From King and Land diverts the threat'ning Curse. Libni, I think they call'd the Levite's Name, Which in Judea still will be of Fame; Since following Heaven's Impulse and high Command, He prov'd a Glorious Saviour of the Land. By him the deep Conspiracy's o'rethrown, The Treason, and the Traytors all made known: For which from Baalites he had Curses store; But by the Jews loaded with Blessings more. The Hellish Plotters were then seiz'd upon, And into Goals and Iron Fetters thrown; From whence to Lawful Tryals they were born, Condemn'd for Traytors, and hang'd up with Scorn: Yet Chemarims with matchless Impudence, With dying Breath avow'd their Innocence: So careful of their Order they still were, Lest Treason in them Scandal should appear, That Treason they with Perjury pursue, Having their Arch-priest's Licence so to do. They fear'd not to go perjur'd to the Grave, Believing their Arch-priest their Souls could save: For all God's Power they do on him bestow, And call him their Almighty God below. To whom they say three powerful Keys are given, Of Hell, of Purgatory, and of Heav'n. No wonder then if Baalites this believe, They should, with their false Oaths try to deceive, And gull the People with their Dying Breath, Denying all their Treason at their Death. This made Impression on some easie Minds, Whom or good Nature, or false Pity blinds; Mov'd their Compassion, and stirr'd up their Grief, And of their dying Oaths caus'd a Belief. This did effect what the curs'd Traytors sought, The Plots Belief into Discredit brought, Of it at first, some Doubts they only rais'd, And with their Impudence the World amaz'd: Tho' Azyad's Murder did the Jews convince, Who was a man most Loyal to his Prince, And by the Bloody Chemarims did fall, Because he seiz'd the Trayt'rous Priests of Baal: Tho' Gedaliah's Letters made all plain, Who was their Scribe, and of a ready Brain: A Levite's Son, but turn'd a Baalite, Who for the King's own Brother then did write, And Correspondence kept i'th' Egyptian Court, To whom the Traytors for Advice resort; Who like a zealous, trayt'rous Baalite dy'd, And at the Fatal Tree the Plot deny'd. Tho' Amazia did at first believe, And to the Hellish Plot did Credit give; Tho' the Great Council of the Sanhedrim, Among the Jews always of great Esteem, Declar'd to all the World this Plot to be, An Hellish, and a curs'd Conspiracy, To kill the King, Religion to o'rethrow, And cause the Jews their Righteous Laws forgoe; To make the People to dumb Idols fall, And in the place of God, to set up Baal: Tho' all the People saw it, and believ'd; Tho' Courts of Justice, hard to be deceiv'd, Had added to the rest their Evidence, Yet with a strange unheard of Impudence, The Baalites all so stoutly had deny'd } Their Hellish Plot, with Vows and Oaths beside, } And with such Diligence themselves apply'd. } They at the last, their sought for point had got, And artfully in doubt had brought their Plot. A thousand cunning Shams and Tricks they us'd, Whereby the simple Vulgar were abus'd; And some o'th' Edomitish Evidence, Who Mammon worship'd, were brought off with pence. Libni, for whom, before their Harps they strung, } Who was the Subject of each Hebrew's Song, } Was villify'd by every Rascall's Tongue. } In Secret, and inglorious did remain, And the Plot thought the Project of his Brain.

The Baalites thus encourag'd by Success, Increase their Hopes, and their black Projects bless: Like the bold Titans, Plot on Plot they lay, And Heav'n it self with impious Arms essay. A new Invention wrought in Hell below, The Jews, and their Religion to o'erthrow; They bring to light, with this their Hopes they raise, And for dire Plots, think they deserve the Bays. This Engine stronger than th' old Roman Ram For Battery, by a new name call'd Sham, With well learn'd, and successful Arts they use To overthrow the Syn'gogues of the Jews, Their Worship and Religion to confound. And lay their Glorious Temple on the Ground. With this new Engine, they a Breach had made, By which they hop'd the Loyal Jews t' invade. With Troops of Treasons, and Rebellious Plots, Led on by Villains, perjur'd Rogues and Sots; And with such Arms, in Hells black Work-house form'd, The peaceful Jews they violently storm'd; Who 'gainst the Ba'lites Plots had no defence, But God, their Laws, and their own Innocence.

Among the Princes of the Jewish Race, For Wisdom, Hushai had the Chiefest Place, Prudent in Speech, and in his Actions close, Admir'd by all, and feared by his Foes; Well skill'd, and knowing in the Jewish Laws, Able to plead, and to defend a Cause, Of piercing Judgment, and of pregnant Wit, Did once Chief Judge of all Judea sit; Was then esteem'd the Honor of the Gown, } And with his Vertues sought to serve the Crown, } Till Foes procur'd him Amazia's Frown. } Then he descended from the hight of Place, Without a Blemish, and without Disgrace; Yet inly griev'd; for he could well divine The Issue of the Baalites curs'd Design, To see Religion, and God's Righteous Cause, The Ancient Government, the Nation's Laws, Unpropping, and all ready strait to fall, And the whole Race of Jews made Slaves to Baal: With Zeal inspired, boldly up he 'rose, To wrestle with the King's, and Nation's Foes; And tho' he was with Wealth and Honor blest, He scorn'd to give his Age its needful Rest: He learn'd, that man was not born for himself, To get great Titles, Names, or sordid Pelf, To wear a lazy Life, himself to please, With Idleness, and with luxurious Ease: When he beheld his Country in distress, And none the Danger able to redress, He did resolve, tho' not affecting Fame, Or to obtain a Patriot's Glorious Name, His Rest, his Life, his Fortune to expose, Rather than see his Countrey's dangerous Foes Run on uncheck'd, till they had brought the Land, To their, and to a Baalite King's Command. He could not therefore so himself forget, To see the Barques of Government o'erset; But with his Skill he help'd the Boat to trim, And boldly did oppose Eliakim. Eliakim was Brother to the King, From the same Loins, and Royal Seed did spring; Of Courage bold, and of a daring mind, } To whom the King, ev'n to Excess was kind; } And tho' he had a Son, for him the Crown design'd. } Sweet Azaria, like the beauteous Morn, Whence all Sweets flow, did once that Court adorn, A budding Rose, whose Beauty's newly blown, Or like a Cedar on Mount Lebanon: He in his Father's Grace, and Favor grew, And towards him the People's Eyes he drew. He was by most belov'd, admir'd by all, For's Zeal to God, and's Hatred unto Baal: But ah! this mov'd the cursed Baalite's Hate, Disturb'd his Peace, and Troubles did create. What can't Design and Hellish Malice do? With Lyes they close this Noble Prince pursue. They think his Father too indulgent grown, Whose Love had many Blessings on him thrown, But what exceeded all the rest beside, He chose the sweet Jerusha for his Bride: A Blessing he esteemed far above The Crown, and all things but his Father's Love: For that he still above his Life did prize, Dear as his Fame, and dearer than his Eyes. Below his Feet, for that he all things trod, Adoreing nothing more except his God. Young as he was, he had acquired Fame, His Breast infired with a Warlike Flame, In Foreign Wars, his Courage he had shown, Had Lawrels won, and brought home fair Renown: Happy, most happy, till with wondrous Art, His Foes had wrought him from his Father's Heart; And so much Power on Amazia won, He by Degrees, grew jealous of his Son. And who for this can Amazia blame, If that the King the Father overcame? For Crowns by Kings esteemed are more near, Than Children, or than Sons, belov'd more dear. His Foes, Baal's Friends, had laid their artful Snairs, Hight'ned his Father's Jealousies and Fears, And made each innocent Action of the Prince, To give his Jealous Father an Offence. If with wise Hushai they the Prince did see, They call'd their Meeting a Conspiracy, And cry, that he was going to rebell: Him Absalom they name, Hushai Achitophel. With Slander thus the Prince they did pursue, Aiming at's Life, and the wise Hushai's too. When they much pleased, and triumphing saw, The King his Royal Favors to withdraw, Which like a Spring on him before did flow, And from him, all on others to bestow: Defenceless left, naked, almost forlorn, Subject to every trifling Rhimers Scorn, And beyond Jordan by their malice drove, No Succor left him but the People's Love; (For he was still their Darling and Delight, Because they saw he was no Baalite,) Their Hopes now almost at their Height did seem, To place the Crown upon Eliakim.

The Jews, God's People and peculiar Care, For their true Worship still most zealous were; That Jewel seem'd most pretious in their Eyes, And it above all Humane things they prize. No Torments could make them their Faith deny, They willingly for their Religion die: Their Liberties were also dear to them, Sprung from a free, and not a slavish Stem, Th' Egyptian Bondage for their Souls unfit, They never in Judea would permit; Their own known Laws, they willingly obey, Hate Tyranny and Arbitrary Sway: Nor did they many Priviledges want, Kept from the Time they first the Land did plant; For which to Death they lawfully would strive, If injur'd by their King's Prerogative: For some of them have try'd to break the Bound, And did like Ethnick Kings, their People's Freedom wound, So Rehoboam caus'd them to rebell, And lost at once ten Tribes of Israel. No people were more ready to obey Their Kings, who rul'd them by a gentle Sway, Who never sought their Consciences to curb, Their Freedom or Religion to disturb. To such they always open-hearted were, For them, they neither Coin, nor Blood would spare. Such Kings might their Prerogatives improve, And rule the Jews, ev'n as they pleas'd with Love; But stiff indeed they were, and moody grew, } When Tyrants did with cruel Stripes pursue } Them sore oppress'd, and sometimes murmur'd too. } Kings they had try'd of ev'ry sort and size. Best govern'd by the Warlike and the wise. Tho' Kings they lov'd, and for them Reverence had, They never would adore them as a God. God's Worship, and their Laws they did prefer, They knew, them men might by bad Councils Err. Tho' Loyal, yet oppress'd, they did not fear To make their heavy Grievances appear. This was indeed the Humor of the Jew, The People by Complaints their Griefs would shew; And never would, in truth, contented seem, Untill redress'd by their wise Sanhedrim. Thus now the Jews, tho' free from ill Design, In their Religious Cause together joyn: They cast their Eyes on Amazia's Son, Who, without Arts the People's Love had won: Full of tormenting Jealousies and Fears, Eliakim a dangerous man appears: The sober part of the whole Sanhedrim, Desire to keep Judea's Crown from him: For they foresaw if he should wear the Crown, Baal's Worship he'd set up, and God's cast down: That all the Nations must be Slaves to Baal, Suffer in Flames, fly, or 'fore Idolls fall. Great were their Fears, but yet they did abhor The very Thought of a dishonest War: For they had seen the Kingdom's many Scarrs, Th' unseemly Marks of former Civil Wars. They Amazia lov'd and wish'd him well, Resolve to suffer rather than rebell; Yet openly declare free from all Stain, How much they hate a Baalite should Reign; And for this Cause, and for this Cause alone, Eliakim they'd put by from the Throne.

Eliakim at Court had many Friends, By whom in Secret he could work his Ends; So that no Accusation could remove Him, deeply rooted in his Brother's Love. But since the Jews to him shew'd open Hate, Lest that his presence should embroil the State; And that the Jews might have no cause to sin, He's sent to rule the Tribe of Benjamin. Thus two great Factions in Judea rose, } So hotly each the other did oppose, } 'Twas fear'd they'd fall at last from Words to Blows. } Each side most zealous for the King appears, Each full of Jealousies and disturbing Fears, Each pleads for Amazia and the Laws, God and Religion both do make their Cause: Both Loyalty profess, both opposite, } Both would persuade that each was in the right, } Tho' both contrary shew as day and night. } Sweet Azaria with these Troubles mov'd, On that side hated, and by this belov'd; Fearing th' inveterate Malice of his Foes, Which he sought to avoid, not to oppose, And lest they should their sought Occasion find, } To tax him of an ill ambitious mind, } By seeing all the Jews to him so kind; } Lest he should grow i'th' King's Opinion worse, He seeks for Council how to steer his Course, That he might to the Court give no Offence, But live wrapt up in his own fair Innocence, The wise and thoughtful Hushai he doth find, And thus to him he breaks his troubled Mind, Great Councellor, and Favorite of Heav'n, To whom the Blessing of true Wisdom's giv'n, Which by no Mortal can possessed be, Whose Thoughts are not inform'd by Loyalty. I know Reproaches upon you are thrown; But judge your Innocency by my own. I am accused Sir, as well as you, And the same Foe doth both our Lives pursue. He fears your Wisdom, may his Hindrance prove, And me, because I have the People's Love: His Creatures therefore throw on you and me, The Scandal of a curs'd Conspiracy, Against our King and Father to rebell: Me Absalom, and you Achitophel They name; bad Councellor, and worser Son, Who Traytors, durst into Rebellion run. My Father governs with so equal Sway, That all both love him, and his Laws obey: He seems Heav'n's Care, who set him in the Throne, Preserved by his wondrous Power alone. Oh may on him no Blemish fall or stain, But all live happy in his peaceful Reign: May he be happy still as he is good, Like God in Mercy, not inclin'd to Blood. This is the Prayer that I daily make; } For Piety shall never me forsake, } Tho' I his Royal Favor ne'er partake. } And tho' my Foes have with their subtil Art Banish'd me from my Royal Father's Heart, Which is the Source of all my Grief and Woe, My just Obedience I will ne'er forgoe. Nor has Disgrace, nor my hot Passions wrought, Within my Breast one bad disloyal Thought. I ne'er believ'd my Father would betray His People, or sought Arbitrary Sway: Or tho' his People did his Wrath provoke, He meant to curb them with an Iron Yoak. Yet do I think, nay more than think, the Cause (But here his passion made some little pause, Till sighing, at the last he thus went on) Why my Great Father does disown his Son; They say I am but of a spurious Brood, My Mother being of Ignoble Blood: For Jocoliah was but mean by Birth, Tho' with the King she mix'd her baser Earth. I was begotten in my Father's Flight, E'er to the Crown he had obtain'd his Right: And since I from his Favor did decline, He has declar'd her but his Concubine. This has the Hopes rais'd of Eliakim, And Amaziah's Crown design'd for him; My Hopes are lost, and I do think it fit, I should to God, Right, and the King submit; But yet, wise Hushai know, I still do find, My Birth has not so much debas'd my mind, To make me stoop to low or mean desires; I feel my Father's Royal Blood inspires My depress'd Soul, wipes off th' ignoble Stain, Renders me apt, or not unfit to reign. Of David's Royal Blood, my self I own, And with it never can disgrace the Throne. Tho' my bold Spirits, mounting thus, do fly Towards the Noble hight of Sovereignty, And that I feel my Father's Blood to rowl Through every Vein and animate my Soul; Yet so much Loyalty is sown within My Breast, I would not Empire gain with Sin: For when my ambitious Thoughts begin to roam, Their Forces, I with that soon overcome. Tho' to God's Laws, and to the King's I yield, To my known Foes I would not leave the Field. I'd not be trampl'd on by sordid Feet, Nor take Affronts from ev'ry one I meet: I'd give no Cause they should my Courage doubt, Nor to Rebellion push the vulgar Rout, I to my Father would give no Offence, Nor while he lives, lay to the Crown Pretence; But since Life's sweet, by Wisdom I'd keep mine, From Baalites Hate, and Eliakim's Design: This my wise Friend, is my chief Business now, To take some Sage and good Advice from you.

Hushai in Silence heard the Prince, and weigh'd Each word he spake, then to him thus reply'd; Great Prince, th' Almighty has to you been kind, } Stamp'd Graces on your Body and your mind, } As if he for your Head a Crown design'd. } We shall not search into Fates Secret Womb, God alone knows the things that are to come; But should you never sit on David's Throne, 'Tis better to deserve than wear a Crown. Of Royal Blood, and of great Birth you are, Born under some benign auspicious Star, Lov'd by the best, and prais'd by every Tongue, The glorious Subject of each worthy Song: The young man's Wish, Joy of each Warlike Wight, The People's Darling, and the World's Delight. A Crowd of Vertues fill your Princely Breast, } And what appears more glorious than the rest, } You are of Truth and Loyalty possest. } That I would cherish in you, that would raise To an admired height, that I would chiefly praise. Let Fools and subtil Politicians scorn Fair Vertue, which doth best a Prince adorn: Whilst you her bright and shining Robes put on, You will appear more great than Solomon. Let not Great Prince, the Fumes of Vulgar Praise, Your bolder Spirits to Ambition raise. We cannot see into the Mist of Fate, Till time brings forth, you must expecting wait; But Fortune, rather Providence, not Chance, The constant, stout, and wise doth still advance. Let your quick Eye be to her Motions ty'd; But still let Noble Vertue be your Guide: For when that God and Vertue points the way, There can be then no danger to obey. But here in Wisdom's School we ought to learn, How we 'twixt Good and Evil may discern, For, noble Prince, you must true difference make, Lest for the one the other you mistake. You must not think you may your self advance, By laying hold on every proffer'd chance. Tho Fortune seems to smile, and egg you on, Let Vertue be your Rule and Guide alone. Thus David for his Guide his Vertue took; Nor was by Fortune's proffer'd Kindness shook. His Vertue and his Loyalty did save King Saul, when Fortune brought him to his Cave, And if that I may to you Counsel give, You should without a Crown for ever live, Rather than get it by the Peoples Lust, Or purchase it by ways that are unjust. David your Ancestor, from whom you spring, Would never by Rebellion be made King; But long in Gath a Warring Exile stay'd, Till for him God a lawful way had made. In Hebron, full of Glory and Renown, He gain'd, at last, and not usurpt the Crown. By full Consent he did the same obtain, And Heav'n's anointing Oyl was not in vain. I once did seem to Amazia dear, Who me above m'ambitious hopes did rear; I serv'd him then according to my skill, And bow'd my Mind unto my Soveraign's Will. Too neer the Soveraign Image then I stood, To think that every Line and Stroke was good. Some Daubers I endeavour'd to remove, And to amend their artless Errours strove. My Skill in secret these with slander wound; With every Line I drew still faults were found; Till wearied, I at last my Work gave o're. } And Amazia (I shall say no more) } Did me to my lov'd Privacy restore. } For this they think I must my Vertue change, For Envy, Malice, and for sweet Revenge. Me by themselves they judge, who would do so, And cause the King suspect me for his Foe. But by th'advice I give, you best will find Th'Integrity and Plainness of my Mind; And that I harbour not that vile intent Their Poets and their Malice do invent. Far be't from me, to be like Cursed Cham; A good Son strives to hide his Father's shame. A King, the Father of his Country is; His shame is every Act he doth amiss. Good and just Kings God's Image bear; but when Their Frailties let us see they are but Men, We cannot every Action so applaud, As if it came from an unerring God. Kings have their Passions, and deceiv'd may be, When b'others Ears and Eyes they hear and see: For Sycophants, of Courts the Bane and Curse, Make all things better than they are, or worse. To Evil prone, to Mischief ever bent, } Th'all Objects with false colours represent; } The Guilty clear, condemn the Innocent. } Thus, noble Prince, they you and me accuse With all the Venome Malice can infuse. Baal's Priests, Hell, and our Foes, new Arts have got, The filthy Reliques of their former Plot; Whereby they would our Lives in danger bring, And make us cursed Traytors to the King. What mayn't these cunning men hope to atchieve, When by their Arts few men their Plot believe? When b'horrid ways, not known to Jews before, Their Plot's transform'd, and laid now at our door? But fear not, Sir, we have a sure Defence, The Peoples Love, God, Law, and Innocence. Keep fast your Vertue, and you shall be blest, And let alone to God and Time the rest. The Noble Youth, with Vertues Robes arrai'd, Consider'd well what the wise Hushai said. Desire of Power, though of Celestial Birth, Below, is ever intermixt with Earth: And all who do to hight of Place aspire, Have earthly Smoak mixt with their mounting Fire. Praise may debauch, and strong Ambition blind, Where heav'nly Vertue does not guard the Mind. But Azaria so well understood, He left the Evil, and embrac'd the Good: Tho in his breast aspiring thoughts he found, Yet Loyalty still kept them within bound. And tho he might have Empire in his Eye, When to it by his bloud allay'd so nigh, Yet in his Soul such Virtue did remain, He by Rebellion would not Empire gain. Through every Vein his Loyal Bloud did run, Yet Royal too, as Amazia's Son. About his noble Heart he felt it spring; Which let him know his Father was a King. If that to Azaria were a Blot, His Father made it when he him begot: But Heav'n such Virtue moulded with his Soul, That his aspiring Lust it did controul. Thus to wise Hushai he repli'd: I finde Your Counsel is agreeing with my Minde. And tho my Foes me an ill man do make, My Loyalty I never will forsake: Yet, prudent Hushai, do not Nature blame, } If I cannot, unmov'd, appear so tame } As not to shew Resentment at my Shame. } Oh, would to Heav'n I ne'er had been begot! Or never had been born a Royal Blot! My Father's Bloud runs thorow every Vein; } He form'd those Spirits which desire to reign, } Mount t'wards a Throne, and sordid Earth disdain. } In Glory, Fame, Crowns, Empire, they delight, And to all these they would assert my Right. And my great Thoughts do whisper there is none Can be more neer a Father, than his Son. This prompts me to oppose Eliakim, And never yield my Father's Crown to him. But then one groveling thought strait pulls me down, And throws me at a distance from The Crown. Oh, would to God———And here he stopt and sigh'd, Whilst Hushai thus to the griev'd Prince repli'd.

Indeed, great Prince, it seemeth wondrous strange To all the World, to see your Father's change; To find the happy Love he us'd to show'r, Like fruitful Rain, on you, to fall no more: To see a Son, the Father's dear Delight, His pleasing Joy, now banish'd from his sight. Nature must in the Father deeply groan, When from his Heart is rent so dear a Son. Nor can I think, tho he from you should part, A Brother e'er can lie so near his Heart. To work this Change, your Foes much Art do use, } Their venom'd Tongues your Fathers Ears abuse, } And you of an aspiring mind accuse. } Justice in Amazia bears such sway, That even Nature must to it give way; H'ad rather Nature force, and part with you, Than seem to rob another of his due. He holds it just, and as a thing divine, To keep unbroken still the Royal Line. Such an Example we can hardly find, A King to's Brother so exceeding kind; When by it he doth such great hazard run, Losing at once his People and his Son. Grieve not, great Prince, at your unhappy Fate; } Let not your Birth your Vertue to abate; } It was not you that could your self create. } I should great folly shew, should I repine At what I could not help, and was no fault of mine. Tho by your Mothers side your Birth was mean, And tho your Mother no declared Queen, If Heaven and your Father please, you may By lawful Right, Judea's Scepter sway, After that he is number'd with the Dead, And his great Soul to Abraham's Bosom fled. Possession of a Crown clears every Stain; No blot of Birth to you can then remain. What Pow'r on Earth, by Right, dares question you? Or what your Father and Sanhedrim do? Nor is your Birth to Heaven any let; God Jepthtah once did o're Judea set. He was a Conquerour of a mighty Name, And's Mother no ways did eclipse his Fame, Nor bar'd him from the Title of a King, Nor those who after from his Loins did spring. Nature may yet make your great Father kind; And who can tell but he may change his mind, When your Succession shall be understood To be the Peoples Choice, and for the Nations Good? But let us leave what is to come, to Fate; Yours Father's pleasure and God's will await. Long may it be ere the King's life doth end; On it our Peace and Happiness depend. Like Wheat full ripe, with many years bow'd down, Let him leave this for an immortal Crown. And who can tell Heav'n's will? it may be too, Eliakim may die before the King or you. Think of no Titles while your Father lives; Take not what an unjust Occasion gives. For to take Arms you can have no pretence, Tho it should be e'en in your own defence. It better were without the Crown to die, Than quit your Vertue and blest Loyaltie. You with the numerous Peoples Love are blest, Not of the Vulgars onely, but the Best. I would not have you their kind Love repel, Nor give encouragement for to rebel: For their Affection which they wildly shew, Is rendred, by your Foes, a Crime in you. Here you your Course must even steer and strait, } That you may not your Father's fears create; } Keep the Jews Love, and not increase his Hate. } Leave for a while the Citie and the Court, Go and divert your self with Country-sport; Perhaps your Foes may then abate their spight, And you may be forgot, when out of sight. By your Retirement, you will let them see You'd take away all cause of Jealousie. That you, like Absalom, will never prove, To court the head-strong Peoples factious Love. Nor will I ever prove Achitophel, To give you wicked Counsel to rebel. Continue still your Loyalty, be just; And for the Crown, God and your Vertue trust. Endeavour not to take what may be giv'n; Deserve it first, and then receive't from Heav'n.

He said, And this Advice above the rest, Suited with Azaria's Vertue best. He was not stain'd with Cruelty or Pride; A thousand Graces he possest beside. To Vertue he was naturally inclin'd, And Goodness clothed his heroick Mind. His Kingly Vertues made him fit to reign, Yet scorn'd by evil Arts the Crown to gain. And tho he Empire to desire did seem, His Loyalty was still more dear to him: Therefore he did not court the Peoples Love, Nor us'd their Pow'r his Rival to remove. From's Father he fought not their Hearts to steal, Nor head a Faction mov'd by blinding Zeal; But like a vertuous and a pious Son, Sought all occasions of Offence to shun. In private like a common man sat down, His Peace his Rule, his Loyalty his Crown.

Thus humble, vertuous, loyal, void of Pride, Most of the Jews he gained to his side. Not factious Sects, the Rabble, or the rude Erring, unthinking, vulgar Multitude: But the chief Tribes and Princes of the Land, Who durst for Moses's ancient Statutes stand. The pious, just, religious, and the good, Men of great Riches, and of greater Bloud, Did, as one man, themselves together joyn To stop the Baalites, and Hell's curst design. Not wicked, or seduc'd by impious Arts, But Loyal all, and Patriots in their Hearts. For they beheld the Baalites foul intent, Religion to o'rethrow and Government. These at the Monarch's Power did not grutch, Since bound by Laws, he could not have too much. What Laws prescribe, they thought he well might have, How could he else his Realm in danger save? But Baal's or Egypt's Yoke they would refuse, Not fitting for the Necks of free-born Jews. They all resolve the King not to oppose, Yet to defend the Nation from its Foes. And were it not for those great Worthy men, The Jews distress'd and wretched soon had been. Among the Rout perhaps there some might blend, Whose int'rest made them Publick Good pretend; Weary of Peace, new Troubles would create, And for their private Gain, embroyl the State. And some perhaps there were, who thought a King To be of Charge, and but an useless thing. Some idle Fops, who publickly debate To shew their Parts, the deep Intrigues of State; These and some others, for a Commonwealth, Among the Herd, unseen, might hide by stealth: But it would strange to common Justice seem, For some few bad, the sound Flock to condemn. Like Goats among the Sheep, well known these bleat, And are like Darnel 'mong the purest Wheat. These not as Friends, but Enemies to the Throne, Good Patriots and good Subjects did disown. And Azaria, tho they us'd his name, Disdain'd their Friendship with a loyal shame.

But he beheld appearing on his side, Princes, whose Faith and Loyalty were try'd; Such as no base or sordid ends could move, Who did his Father and their Country love. In the first rank of these did Nashon stand, None nobler or more loyal in the Land. Under the King he once did Edom sway, And taught that Land the Jews good Laws t'obey. True to his Word, and of unspotted Fame; Great both in Parts, in Vertue, and in Name. His Faith ne'r touch'd, his Loyalty well known, A Friend both to his Country and the Throne. Base ends his great and noble Soul did scorn, Of loyal, high, and noble Parents born. His Father with renown and great Applause, For Joash di'd, and suffer'd for his Cause. Of great Aminadab who would not sing, Whose glory shin'd next to the martyr'd King? From him his Son true Loyalty understood, Imprest on's Soul, seal'd with his Father's Bloud. The grave, religious, wife, rich Helon too, } Much honoured by every zealous Jew, } Appear'd a Patriot, to his Country true. } In the Jews Laws, and strict Religion bred, And Baal's curst Rites did much abhor and dread. His Son Eliab, in the Sanhedrim, With courage had oppos'd Eliakim: A man whose many Vertues, and his Parts, Had won upon the sober Peoples Hearts. From every Faction, and from Envy free; } Lov'd well the King, but hated Flatterie; } Kept Moses's Laws, yet was no Pharisee. } He went not to their Synagogues to pray, But to the Holy Temple every day. With piercing Judgment saw the Lands Disease, And labour'd onely for the Kingdoms Peace: Loyal and honest was esteem'd by all, Excepting those who strove to set up Baal. For an ill Action he ne'r stood reprov'd; But's King, his Country, and Religion lov'd. No Taint ere fell upon Eliab's name, Nor Hell it self found cause to spot his Fame. Pagiel with honour loaded, and with years, Among this Loyal Princely Train appears. None Pagiel tax'd, for no one ever knew That he to Amazia was untrue. A Fame unspotted he might truly boast; Yet he had Foes, and his gain'd Favours lost. Zuar, a sober and a vertuous Prince, Who never gave least cause of an offence. Elishama, at once both sage and young, } From noble and from loyal Fathers sprung, } Shone bright among this sober Princely throng. } Enan, a Prince of very worthie Fame; Great in deserved Title, Bloud, and Name. Elizur too, who number'd with the best In Vertue, scorn'd to lag behind the rest. Abidon and Gamaliel had some sway; Both loyal, and both zealous in their way. And now once more I will invoke my Muse, To sing brave Ashur's praise who can refuse? Sprung from an ancient and a noble Race, With Courage stampt upon his manly face; Young, active, loyal; had through Dangers run, And with his Sword abroad had Honours won: Well-spoken, bold, free, generous, and kind, And of a noble and discerning mind. Great ones he scorn'd to court, nor fools would please, But thought it better for to trust the Seas. He thought himself far safer in a Storm, And should receive from raging Seas less harm, Than from those dangerous men, who could create A Storm at Land, with Envie and with Hate. And now got free from all their Trains and Wiles, } He at their hateful Plots and Malice smiles, } Plowing the Ocean for new Honour toils. } These were the chief; a good and faithful Band } Of Princes, who against those men durst stand } Whose Counsel sought to ruine all the Land. } With grief they saw the cursed Baalites bent To batter down the Jewish Government; To pull their Rights and true Religion down, By setting up a Baalite on the Throne. These wisely did with the Sanhedrim joyn; Which Council by the Jews was thought divine. The next Successour would remove, 'tis true, Onely because he was a Baalite Jew. Ills they foresaw, and the great danger found, } Which to the King (as by their Dutie bound) } They shew'd, and open laid the bleeding Wound. } But such who had possest his Royal Ear, Had made the King his Loyal Subjects fear; Did their good Prince with causeless terrour fright, As if these meant to rob him of his Right. Said, They with other Rebels did combine, And had against his Crown some ill designe: That the wise Hushai laid a wicked Train, And Azaria sought in's stead to reign: That the old Plot to ruine Church and State, Was born from Hushai's and the Levite's Pate: That Pharisees were bold and numerous grown, And sought to place their Elders in his Throne. No wonder then if Amazia thought These Loyal Worthies did not as they ought; That they did Duty and Obedience want, And no Concessions from the Throne would grant.

They who in Amazia's favour grew, Themselves obnoxious to the People knew. Some were accused by the Sanhedrim, Most Friends and Allies to Eliakim: For his Succession eagerly they strove, And him, the rising Sun, adore and love. When Doeg, who with Egypt did combine, And to enslave Judea did designe, Accus'd of Treason by the Sanhedrim, Kept in the Tower of Jerusalem; The Object prov'd of fickle Fortunes sport, And lost the Honours he possest at Court. Elam in favour grew, out stript by none, And seem'd a Prop to Amazia's Throne. He had in foreign parts been sent to School, And did in Doeg's place the Kings thin Treasure rule. He to Eliakim was neer alli'd; What greater parts could he possess beside? For the wise Jews believ'd the King did run Some hazard, if he prov'd his Father's Son. But now, alas! th' Exchequer was grown poor, The Coffers empty, which did once run o're. The bounteous King had been so very kind, That little Treasure he had left behind. Elam had gotten with the empty Purse, For his dead Father's sake the Peoples Curse: For they believ'd that no great good could spring From one false to his Country and his King. Jotham the fickle Shuttle-cock of Wit, Was bandied several ways to be made fit: Unconstant, he always for Honour tri'd, At last laid hold upon the rising side. If Wit he had, 'twas thought, by not a few, He a better thing did want, and Wisdom too. Then Amiel would scarce give place to him, Who once the chief was of the Sanhedrim. He then appeared for the Crowns defence; But spoke his own, and not the Nations sense. And tho he praised was by Shimei's Muse, The Jews of many Crimes did him accuse. Harim, a man like a bow'd Ninepence bent, Had tried all the ways of Government: Was once a Rebel, and knew how to cant; Then turn'd a very Devil of a Saint: Peevish, morose, and some say, prov'd a fool, When o're the Edomites he went to rule. When to his bent the King he could not bring, He fairly then went over to the King. Old Amalack, a man of cunning head, Once in the cursed School of Rebels bred; From thence his Maximes and his Knowledge drew, Of old known Arts how to enslave the Jew. For pardon'd Treason, thus sought to atone, Had wrong'd the Father, would misguide the Son. Once in Religion a strict Pharisee, To Baal's then turn'd, or else of none was he. He long before seem'd to approve their Rites, Marrying his issue to the Baalites. A constant hunter after sordid Pelf; Was never just to any but himself: A very Proteus in all shapes had been, And constant onely, and grown old in sin. To speak the best of Amalack we can, A cunning Devil in the shape of Man. Muppim, a man of an huge working Pate, Not how to heal, but to embroil the State; Knew how to take the wrong, and leave the right; Was once himself a Rebel Benjamite. To that stiff Tribe he did a while give Law, And with his iron Yokes kept them in aw. The Tyrant Zabed less did them provoke, And laid upon their necks a gentler Yoke. Amongst that Tribe he left an hated Name, And to Jerusalem from thence he came, Where he tyrannick Arts sought to intrude, } To learn which, Amazia was too good, } And better the Jews temper understood. } Refus'd, the Serpent did with Woman joyn, And Counsels gave th'Egyptian Concubine. Adam, first Monarch, fell between these two; What can't the Serpent and a Woman do? These with some more of the like size and sort, In Sion made up Amazia's Court: Whilst his best friends became these Rulers scorn, Saw how they drove, and did in silence mourn. Sion did then no Sacrifice afford; Gibbar had taught the frugal King to board. Void were its Cellars, Kitchins never hot, And all the Feasts of Solomon forgot. Others there were, whose Names I shan't repeat; Eliakim had friends both small and great: And many, who then for his Favour strove, With their hot heads, like furious Jehu, drove. Some Wits, some Witless, Warriors, Rich and Poor, Some who rich Clothes and empty Titles wore; Some who knew how to rail, some to accuse, And some who haunted Taverns and the Stews. Some roaring Bullies, who ran th'row the Town Crying, God damn 'um, they'd support the Crown: Whose wicked Oaths, and whose blasphemous Rant, Had quite put down the holy zealous Cant. Some were for War, and some on Mischief bent; And some who could, for gain, new Plots invent. Some Priests and Levites too among the rest, Such as knew how to blow the Trumpet best: Who with loud noise and cackling, cri'd like Geese, For Rites, for Temple, and for dearer Fleece. 'Twixt God and Baal, these Priests divided were; } Which did prevail, these greatly did not care; } But headlong drove, without or wit or fear. } The Pharasees they curse, as Sons of Cham, And all dissenting Jews to Hell they damn. Shimei the Poet Laureate of that Age, The falling Glory of the Jewish Stage, Who scourg'd the Priest, and ridicul'd the Plot, Like common men must not be quite forgot. Sweet was the Muse that did his wit inspire, Had he not let his hackney Muse to hire: But variously his knowing Muse could sing, Could Doeg praise, and could blaspheme the King: The bad make good, good bad, and bad make worse, Bless in Heroicks, and in Satyrs curse. Shimei to Zabed's praise could tune his Muse, And Princely Azaria could abuse. Zimri we know he had no cause to praise, Because he dub'd him with the name of Bays. Revenge on him did bitter Venome shed, Because he tore the Lawrel from his head; Because he durst with his proud Wit engage, And brought his Follies on the publick Stage. Tell me, Apollo, for I can't divine, Why Wives he curs'd, and prais'd the Concubine; Unless it were that he had led his life With a teeming Matron ere she was a Wife: Or that it best with his dear Muse did sute, Who was for hire a very Prostitute. The rising Sun this Poets God did seem, Which made him tune's old Harp to praise Eliakim. Bibbai, whose name won't in Oblivion rot, For his great pains to hide the Baalites Plot, Must be remembred here: A Scribe was he, Who daily damn'd in Prose the Pharisee. With the Sectarian Jews he kept great stir; Did almost all, but his dear self, abhor. What his Religion was, no one could tell; And it was thought he knew himself not well: Yet Conscience did pretend, and did abuse, Under the notion of Sectarian Jews, All that he thought, or all that did but seem Foes to Baal's Rites, Eliakim, and him. He was a man of a pernicious Wit For railing, biting, and for mischief fit: He never slept, yet ever in a Dream; Religion, Law, and State, was all his Theam. On these he wrote in Earnest and in Jeast, Till he grew mad, and turn'd into a Beast, Zattue his Zanie was, Buffoon, and Fool, Who turn'd Religion into Ridicule: Jeer'd at the Plot, did Sanhedrims abuse, Mock'd Magistrates, damn'd all Sects of the Jews. Of little Manners, and of lesser Brains; Yet to embroil the State, took wondrous pains. In jeasting still his little Talent lay; At Hushai scoft in's witless grinning way.

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. 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.

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. 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. 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, } 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. 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; 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, 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. 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: 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.

He said: Th' Almighty heard, and from on high Spoke his Consent, in Thunder through the Skie: The Augurie was noted by the Croud, Who joyful shouts return'd almost as loud: Then Amazia was once more restor'd, He lov'd his People, they obey'd their Lord.

FINIS.

[Errata:

an Author, whose Wit has deservedly / gained the Bays; "Bays" unclear the Horny or Ivory Port so in original: "Part"?

'Twas fear'd they'd fall at last from Words to Blows. invisible apostrophe He fears your Wisdom, may his Hindrance prove, text reads "Hndrance" Religion to o'rethrow and Government. text reads "Governmenr" And Azaria, tho they us'd his name, text reads "tehy" From you by art they have debauch'd your Son; text reads "debauch,d" Full ripe with Age, in peace, may he'yield to Fate. so in original: "he yield" or (metrical) "h'yield"? The force remov'd, flies swifty back agen. see Editor's Introduction, References, for "swifty" ]

THE END