But what thou giv'ft, that venom still remains;
And the pox'd nation feels thee in their brains.
What else inspires the tongues and swells the breasts
Of all thy bellowing renegado priests,

That preach up thee for God; dispense thy laws;
And with the ftum ferment their fainting cause?
Fresh fumes of madness raise; and toil and sweat
To make the formidable cripple great.

Yet fhould thy crimes fucceed, fhould lawless power
Compass those ends thy greedy hopes devour,
Thy canting friends thy mortal foes would be,
Thy God and theirs will never long agree ;
For thine, if thou haft any, must be one
That lets the world and human-kind, alone :
A jolly god, that paffes hours too well
To promife heaven, or threaten us with hell.
That unconcern'd can at rebellion fit,

And wink at crimes he did himself commit.
A tyrant theirs ; the heaven their priesthood paints
A conventicle of gloomy fullen faints;

know :

A heaven like Bedlam, flovenly and fad;
Fore-doom'd for fouls, with falfe religion, mad.
Without a vision poets can forefhow
What all but fools by common sense may
If true fucceffion from our ifle should fail,
And crowds profane with impious arms prevail,
Not thou, nor thofe thy factious arts engage,
Shall reap that harvest of rebellious rage,
With which thou flattereft thy decrepit age.

The

2

The fwelling poison of the several sects,

Which, wanting vent, the nation's health infects,
Shall burst its bag; and fighting out their way
The various venoms on each other prey.
The prefbyter puff'd up with spiritual pride,
Shall on the necks of the lewd nobles ride:
His brethren damn, the civil power defy;
And parcel out republic prelacy.

But short shall be his reign: his rigid yoke
And tyrant power will puny fects provoke ;

And frogs and toads, and all the tadpole train,
Will croak to heaven for help, from this devouring crane.
The cut-throat fword and clamorous gown fhall jar,
In fharing their ill-gotten fpoils of war:

Chiefs fhall be grudg'd the part which they pretend;
Lords envy lords, and friends with every friend
About their impious merit fhall contend,
The furly commons fhall refpect deny,
And justle peerage out with property.
Their general either fhall his truft betray,
And force the crowd to arbitrary sway;
Or they, fufpecting his ambitious aim,
In hate of kings fhall caft anew the frame;
And thrust out Collatine that bore their name.
Thus inhorn broils the factions would engage,
Or wars of exil'd heirs, or foreign rage,
Till halting vengeance overtook our age:
And our wild labours wearied into reft,
Reclin'd us on a rightful monarch's breast.
66- Pudet hæc opprobria, vobis
"Et dici potuiffe, & non potuiffe refelli."

}

TAR

AND

TULLI A.

TARQUIN

IN

N times when princes cancel'd nature's law,
And declarations which themselves did draw;
When children us'd their parents to dethrone,
And gnaw their way, like vipers, to the crown;
Tarquin, a favage, proud, ambitious prince,
Prompt to expel, yet thoughtless of defence,
The envied feepter did from Tullius fnatch,
The Roman king, and father by the match.
To form his party, hiftories report,

A fanctuary was open'd in his court,
Where glad offenders fafely might resort.
Great was the crowd, and wondrous the fuccefs,
For those were fruitful times of wickedness;
And all, that liv'd obnoxious to the laws,
Flock'd to prince Tarquin, and embrac'd his cause,
'Mongst these a pagan priest for refuge fled
A prophet deep in godly faction read;
A fycophant, that knew the modish way
To cant and plot, to flatter and betray,
To whine and fin, to fcribble and recant,
A fhameless author, and a luftful faint.
To ferve all times he could diftinctions coin,
And with great cafe flat contradictions join:
A traitor now, once loyal in extreme,
And then obedience was his only theme:
He fung in temples the moft paffive lays,
And wearied monarchs with repeated praise ;

:

But

But manag'd aukwardly that lawful part;
To vent foul lies and treason was his art,
And pointed libels at crown'd heads to dart.
This priest, and others learned to defame,
First murder injur'd Tullius in his name;
With blackeft calumnies their fovereign load,
A poifon'd brother, and dark league abroad;
A fon unjustly top'd upon the throne,

Which yet was prov'd undoubtedly his own ;
Though, as the law was there, 'twas his behoof,
Who difpoffefs'd the heir, to bring the proof.
This hellish charge they back'd with dismal frights,
The lofs of property and facred rights,

And freedom, words which all falfe patriots use,
As fureft names the Romans to abuse.
Jealous of kings, and always malecontent,
Forward in change, yet certain to repent.
Whilft thus the plotters needful fears create,
Tarquin with open force invades the ftate.
Lewd nobles join him with their feeble might,
And atheist fools for dear religion fight.
The priests their boafted principles difown,
And level their harangues against the throne.
Vain promises the people's minds allure,
Slight were their ills, but defperate the cure.
'Tis hard for kings to fteer an equal course,
And they who banish one, oft gain a worse.
Thofe heavenly bodies we admire above,
Do every day irregularly move;

Yet

Yet Tullius, tis decreed, muft lofe the crown,
For faults, that were his council's, not his own.
He now in vain commands ev'n thofe he pay'd,
By darling troops deferted and betray'd,

By creatures which his generous warinth had made.
Of these a captain of the guards was worst,
Whose memory to this day ftands accurst.
This rogue, advanc'd to military truft
By his own whoredom, and his fifter's luft,
Forfook his mafter, after dreadful vows,
And plotted to betray him to his foes;
The kindest mafter to the vileft slave,
As free to give, as he was fure to crave.
His haughty female, who, as books declare,
Did always tofs wide noftrils in the air,
Was to the younger Tullia governess,
And did attend her, when, in borrow'd dress,
She fled by night from Tullius in distress.
This wretch, by letters, did invite his foes,
And us'd all arts her father to depofe;

A father, always generously bent,

So kind, that ev'n her wishes he'd prevent.
'Twas now high time for Tullius to retreat,
When ev'n his daughter haften'd his defeat;
When faith and duty vanish'd, and no more
The name of father and of king he bore:

A king, whofe right his foes could ne'er difpute;
So mild, that mercy was his attribute;

Affable, kind, and easy of access;
Swift to relieve, unwilling to oppress;

}