.mw-parser-output .wst-bar{text-decoration:line-through}.mw-parser-output .wst-bar-inner{color:transparent}——————Neq, tempore in ullo
Esse queat duplici natura, & corpore bino
Ex alienigenis membris compacta potestas.
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Lucret. Lib. 5.
AGain, my Muse—Nor fear the steepy Flight,
Pursue the Fury thro’ the Realms of Night;
Explore the Depth of Hell, the secret Cause,
Whence the New Scheme of Moderation rose;
Now Faction re-assum'd her Native Throne,
Which prostrate Fiends with awful Homage own,
A Crown of Eating Flame her Temples bound,
Darting a Blew Malignant Radiance round.
An Iron Scepter in her Hand she bore,
Emblem of Vengeance and destructive Pow'r,
A bloody Canopy hung o'er her Head,
Where the Four falling Empires are pourtray'd.
Monarchs Depos'd beneath her Foot-stool lie,
And all around is Hell and Anarchy,
Whilst thus she tow'ring sat, the Subject Train
With Shouts proclaim'd the Triumphs of her Reign.
Then they the Chaos sung, and Nature's Jars,
How the first Atoms urg'd their Medley Wars,
How Civil Discord and Intestine Rage
Have boil'd in ev'ry Nation, ev'ry Age.
They sung Divided Albion's hapless State,
Her Clashing Senate's Feuds, her lab'ring Church's Fate:
And, as her coming Ruin they exprest,
A sullen Rapture swell'd in ev'ry Breast.
For such the Bent of their Distorted Will,
Only to know Delight in Thoughts of Ill.
But on a sudden, Lo! descending flew,
A Meagre Ghost, which soon the Fury knew,
Cethego newly Dead, her Darling Pride,
Whose Firm Unwav'ring Faith she long had try'd,
Long in her Secret Councels had retain'd,
By which her Empire o'er our Isle she gain'd.
No sooner was arriv'd the Welcome Guest,
But him in soothing Terms, she thus addrest:
Hail best Belov'd of all my Sons, Receive
What Praise, what Joy these Gloomy Realms can give;
For 'tis to thy Successful Arts I owe
My Reign above, my Triumph here below.
This said, th' Unbodied Shade obsequious kneel'd,
Struck with Amazement, and with Rapture fill'd.
O Mighty Queen! Permit me to Adore
Thy Awful Shrine, thy all Informing Pow'r,
Whose nearer Influence my Breast Inspires
With Glorious Rage and Mischievous Desires.
'Twas in Thy Cause I sunk a mouldring Frame,
Unequal to the Hardy Task of Fame.
But still my Mind releas'd from Mortal pains,
Her innate Faculty of Ill retains.
More he had said, but the surrounding Throng,
Impatient of delay, pursu'd their Noisy Song.
Mean time the Fiend revolving in her Thought
The mighty Change Cethego's Death had wrought,
Resolv'd at length to Summon to her Aid
Each plotting Dæmon, each Seditious Shade.
She gave the Signal, and a Dreadful Sound
Shook the Infernal Dreary Mansions round.
Then thus she eas'd her anxious Soul.———
O dearest Friend! O faithful Ministers!
Ye mutual Partners of my Joys and Cares!
New Ways, new Means my restless Thoughts imploy,
How Albion to reduce, her Peace destroy.
Long have I labour'd, but alas! In vain,
For now Succeeds the Heav'nly Anna's Reign;
Who watchful Guards a Stubborn Peoples Good,
By Fears not stagger'd, nor by Force subdu'd.
Such are the Gifts of her Capacious Mind,
Where Justice Mercy Piety are joyn'd.
As Motion Light and Heat, combin'd in one,
Make up the Glorious Essence of the Sun.
But still she Mortal is, nor will I cease,
Till my Revenge be Crown'd with wish'd Success.
First then, suppose we shou'd divest the Throne
Of Friends, whose Souls are Kindred to her own.
Celsus Disgrac'd, Hortensio next appears,
Whose Vigilance still Baffles all my Cares;
To whom by Right of Ancestry belong
A Loyal Heart, and a perswasive Tongue.
Now Plots are form'd, and publick Tempests rowl,
He boasts a strange unshaken Strength of Soul.
Fearless against her Foes the Church sustains,
Alike their Friendship and their Hate disdains,
Disdains their Clamour and Seditious Noise,
Secure in the Applauding Senate's Voice.
Of Noble Stem, in whose Collat'ral Lines
Virtue with equal Force and Lustre shines.
When Suada pleads, Success attends the Cause,
Suada the Glory of the British Laws.
Not the Fam'd Orators of Old were heard
With more attentive Awe, more deep Regard,
When Thronging round them, their Charm'd Audience hung,
On the attracting Musick of their Tongue,
Nor Hell to Lælio can her Praise refuse,
Whose Worth deserves his own recording Muse;
Who in Sophia's Court, with just Applause,
Maintain'd his Sov'reign's Rights, his Country's Cause.
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All the Endowments of a Gen'rous Mind,
Whate'er is Great and Brave, whate'er Refin'd.
For 'tis in him Fame doubly does Commend
An Active Patriot, and a Faithful Friend.
Then from this near Attendance be remov'd
Urbano, tho' by All Admir'd and Lov'd;
Tho' his sweet Temper and obliging Port,
Become his Office, and Adorn the Court.
He seems by Nature form'd Mankind to pleafe, }
So Free, so Unconstrain'd is his Address,
Improv'd by ev'ry Virtue, ev'ry Grace,
Senato too, who Bravely does deride
Sempronia's little Arts, and Female Pride;
Whose Lofty Look, and whose Majestick Mien
Confess the tow'ring Godlike Soul within.
A Speaker of unparallel'd Renown,
Long in the Senate, long in Council known.
Ally'd to Celsus by the Noblest Claim,
By the same Principles, by Worth the same.
Old as he is, still Firm his Heart remains,
And dauntless his declining Frame sustains.
So, pois'd on its own Base, the Center bears
The Nodding Fabrick of the Universe.
Nereo shall cease t' extend his Anna's Reign,
High as the Stars, unbounded as the Main.
'Tis He, whose Valour the Batavian Wars.
Inur'd to Glory from his greener Years.
'Tis He Le Hogue's opposing Ord'nance bore,
Nor fear'd the Lightning's Flash, nor Thunder's Roar.
'Tis He (with Scipio darling of their Isle)
From vanquish'd Vigo forc'd the Indian spoil.
'Tis he the Streights Defence so lately Storm'd,
A Town by Nature Fortified and Arm'd.
'Tis He, unequal far in Force, o'ercame
A Fleet secure of Conquest and of Fame,
A Fleet by vast expence for Fight prepar'd,
At once the Spaniards Terror and their Guard.
'Tis he my Pois'nous baleful Breath has Born,
But with a gen'rous and Heroick Scorn.
For Fiends must still this just monition have,
Envy's the Coward's homage to the Brave.
Nor Bajazet shall Rule in favour long,
Tho' he so sweetly Gloriana Sung.
A Son of Phæbus, whose Seraphick lays
Were only equal to her Heav'nly Praise.
But He not claims the Muses art alone,
Whose Nobler Gifts in ev'ry Sphear have shone.
A Soul he boasts with Native Grandeur born,
That my Volpone's Schemes rejects with Scorn:
Form'd of a brighter and diviner Mould,
Can ne'er by humbler Reason be controul'd;
Can ne'er in Dark involv'd Designments join,
But bravely with the Court will all_its Pow'r resign.
Here as their various Virtues she confest, }
Rancour innate and Vengeance shook her Breast.
She paus'd—At length her further Mind exprest.
Be these, and such as these, discharg'd from Court,
The Better Genii that the Crown, support:
Then in their stead let Mod'rate Statesmen Reign,
Practice their new pretended Golden Mean.
A Notion undefin'd in Virtues Schools,
Unrecommended by her sacred Rules.
A Modern-Coward Principle, design'd
To stifle Justice, and unnerve the Mind.
A Trick by Knaves contriv'd, impos'd on Fools,
But Scorn'd by Patriot and Exalted Souls.
For Mod'rate Statesmen, like Camelions, wear
A diff'rent Form in ev'ry diff'rent Air.
They stick at nothing to Secure their Ends,
Caress their Enemies, betray their Friends.
Their Medley Temper, their Amphibious Mind
Is fraught with Principles of ev'ry kind;
Nor ever can from Stain and Error free,
Assert its Native Truth, and Energy.
As the four Elements so blended were
In their first Chaos, so united there,
That since they ne'er could fully be disjoyn'd,
Each retains something of each other's Kind;
Nor this is wholy Air, nor that pure Flame,
But still in both some Atoms are the same.
Let Jano, second of this Trimming Band,
Next to Volpone deck'd with Honours stand.
Like him for black Ingratitude Renown'd,
Like him With all the Gifts of Cunning crown'd.
None better can the Jarring Senate guide,
Or lure the Flying Camp to either side,
Of an Invet'rate Old Fanatick Race,
Of Canting Parents, sprung this Child of Grace.
In Show a Tory, but a Whig in Heart,
For Saints may safely act the Sinner's part.
Once he was ours, and will be ours again,
For Art to stifle Nature strives in vain,
For ev'ry thing, when from its Center born,
Still thither tends, still thither will return.
So from it's Orb a Comet glaring Flies,
With unauspicious Beams thro' distant Skies;
But soon Revolting to it's Native Sphear,
Owns the attractive Force and Vortex there.
Let him with these Accomplishments supply
Hortensio's steady Faith, and Loyalty.
Bruchus, for he has Wealth to buy a Place,
Shall wear Urbano's Key, his Post disgrace.
A worthy Son, in whom collected shine
The Follies of his Mad and Ideot Line.
Lord of the woful Countenance, whose Skin
Seems fear'd without, and putrify'd within.
A Dapper Animal, whose Pigmy Size
Provokes the Ladies Scorn, and mocks their Eyes.
But Balls and Musick are his greatest Care,
So willing is the Wretch to please the Fair.
'Tis strange, that Men, what Nature has deny'd,
Should make their only Aim, their only Pride.
Let Britono, who from the Parent Moon
Derives his Welch Descent directly down,
Succeed Senato in his High Command,
And bear the Staff of Honour in his Hand.
A flutt'ring empty Fop, that ev'ry Night,
Sits Laughing loud, and Jesting in the Pit,
Whilst a surrounding Crowd of Whores and Bawds,
His sprightly Converse, and his Wit applauds.
An Atlas proper to sustain the Weight
Of an Incumber'd and declining State.
Thersites, an Apostate Brother, long
For Railing fam'd, and Virulence of Tongue;
Who lately held in scandalous Disgrace
The fawning Courtier, and the Slave in Place.
Who vilify'd, for every slight Offence,
With equal Gall the Statesman and the Prince:
Now, soften'd by Advancement, can controul
The wonted Rage and Fury of his Soul:
An Advocate for Moderation grows,
Would heal their Breaches, and their Jars compose;
Forgets that he the Guilty Court disclaim'd,
And loudly praises what he once defam'd.
So Northern Mastiffs, in a warmer Sun,
Their Fierceness loose, and gentler Natures own.
Causidico, whom fear of Want made Bold,
Barters his boasted Honesty for Gold.
Tacks and Impeachments once he urg'd as Law,
To curb the Throne, the Ministry to awe:
Witness Sigillo and the Irish Grants;
But cease we now, he cries, those old Complaints.
Let us restrain our too impetuous Zeal,
Nor ever tack a persecuting Bill.
Let us henceforth offending Statesmen screen;
Let Justice sleep in Anna's gentle Reign.
So is the Patriot chang'd from what he was;
So solid a Conviction is a Place.
Not rais'd for this by Abdon's bounteous Hand,
Abdon, whose Virtues ev'ry Praise demand,
Abdon, who with his Post his Truth maintains,
Whose steady Soul a Wav'ring Renegade disdains.
Thracio, who arrogantly vaunted Young,
The Politicians Art, and Poet's Song,
Shall now the Fame his Friends bestow'd, destroy,
Shall be the Tories Scorn as once their Joy.
An errant Judas, of the Motley Train,
Perfidious, Noisy, Impudent, and Vain.
An Agent fit to propagate my Ends,
Who basely for a Place will quit his Friends.
For let but Scriba, that Rich Worthless Fool,
Fantastically Formal, Gayly Dull;
Let him unwillingly resign his Post,
Thracio and all his fine Harangues are lost.
Let these, as useful Tools a while possess
The Court Preferments, and indulge their Ease.
But they shall fly, like Mists, before the Sun, }
When my Designs to full Perfection grown,
Exert their Pow'r, and make the World my own.
Camillo, tho' triumphant in the Field
Seduc'd by Grants shall to this Party yield.
A Chief, to form whose mighty Mind, conspire
The Roman Conduct, and the Grecian Fire.
Germania's Stator, and Britannia's Joy,
Whose Fame does the whole Western World imploy.
By whom (so Heav'n and Anna have decreed)
Tyrants are humbled, enslav'd Nations freed.
But still not all his Valour can withstand
The Witchcraft of Sempronia's Golden Hand.
In her he shall my boundless Empire own,
And lay his purchas'd Palms and Lawrels down.
When thus the Fury had her Scheme Display'd,
Assenting Hell a low Obeisance paid.
Moloch, Protector of the Papal Chair,
Author of Massacres and Christian War,
Was now Convinc'd that Sanguinary Laws }
Could ne'er the Reformation's Growth oppose,
Could ne'er in Albion's Church advance his Cause.
He therefore, urg'd with his old constant Hate,
By Mod'rate Means consents to work her Fate.
Hopes by Dissenting Agents to regain
What Zealous Missionaries sought in vain.
He finds how soon by Toleration's Aid
Her Pow'r is weaken'd, and her Rights betray'd.
Nor doubts Occasional Conformity
Will by degrees her Essence quite destroy.
Then Satan, Prince of the Fanatick Train,
Who form'd the Conduct of their Glorious Reign,
Approv'd the Scheme, not hoping to Restore
His Subjects to their late unbounded Pow'r.
For well he knew, their Avarice and Pride
Had wean'd the Bankrupt Nation from their side.
But these Auspicious Moderation Times,
By not Detecting, Sanctify their Crimes,
By Baffling Justice, and eluding Law,
Make Vice insult, and Sin Triumphant grow.
Nay such th' Effects of Moderation are,
The Guilty to Reward, as well as Spare.
Hence Foes to Prelacy are Clad in Lawn,
Hence Rebels are the Fav'rites of the Throne.
What could they more desire, than thus to pass }
The blest Remainder of their happy Days,
Fatted with Plunder, and dissolv'd in ease?
Nor Belial, th' Atheist's Patron, could Complain, }
For Moderation would enlarge his Reign,
Where all unpunish'd Talk and Live Profane.
Where Irreligion Providence denies,
Nor dreads the Laws of Earth, nor Thunder of the Skies.
Mammon, the Trader, and the Courtier's God,
No sooner heard the Project but allow'd;
For hence his Vot'ries uncontroul'd might live,
And endless Frauds commit, and endless Bribes receive.
But most Cethego the Design approves,
Who Dead and Living in Meanders moves.
He knew how he deluded hapless James,
By the same wily Arts, and subtle Schemes,
Proposes then, that he alone be sent,
To execute the Fury's New Intent.
When he had ended, thus she soon replies, }
Blest be the Shade, that can so well advise,
On thee thy Goddess smiles, on thee relies.
Fly, nimbly to thy Native Soil repair,
Urge and Inforce the well-form'd Council there.
Occasion favours, the Cabal is met }
At thy own Mansion, thy belov'd Retreat,
The Muses Darling Theam, the Graces Seat.
There Clodio's and Sigillo's anxious Thoughts,
Are brooding o'er Imaginary Plots:
Whilst Bibliopolo with his .mw-parser-output .wst-tooltip{cursor:help;border-bottom:thin dotted cornflowerblue}.mw-parser-output .wst-tooltip-nodash{border-bottom:none}awkard Jests
Deserves his Dinner, and diverts the Guests.
Bathillo, in his own unborrow'd Strains,
Young Sacharissa's Angel Form profanes:
Whilst her dull Husband, sensless of her Charms,
Lies lumpish in her soft encircling Arms.
For he to Wisdom makes a Grave Pretence,
But wants alas! His Fathers Depth of Sense.
Howere, supplying all Defects of Wit,
He shews a true Fanatick Zeal and Heat.
She spoke——the Spectre in a Moment Gains
Altropia's Balmy Air, and Flowry Plains.
At his approach the Dome's Foundation shook,
When mid their Revels rushing in he broke.
Involv'd in Wreaths of Smoak awhile he stood,
Seeming at distance an unshapen Cloud.
But soon, the Cloud ascending to the Skies,
He manifest advanc'd before their Eyes.
Horror and Guilt shook ev'ry Conscious Breast, }
But Bibliopolo most his Fears exprest,
Fainting he tumbled——Pass we o'er the rest.
Clodio alone fixt and unmov'd appear'd,
And what the Phantom said undaunted heard.
Forbear, my Friends, your Hot pursuits restrain,
Behold your lov'd Cethego once again.
From Faction's dark unbottom'd Cell I come,
Fraught with Britannia's Fate and final, Doom.
For, Meditating Vengeance in her Mind,
At length a Finish'd Plan she has design'd.
Nor doubts by Mod'rate Methods to obtain, }
What she by rougher Arts has fought in vain,
That Whigs should Triumph in a Tory Reign.
Thus he began, and then proceeds to tell
What Faction had before reveal'd in Hell.
The wellcome Narrative touch'd Clodio's Heart,
Who did in Words like these his Joy impart.
Since thy Divided State permits, be thou
As once a Friend, a Guardian Genius now.
Give us to execute this Grand Design,
Thine be the Conduct, and the Glory thine.
Nor can we doubt Success; ——— Sempronia Smiles,
And Hell and Faction aid the Woman’s Wiles.
Pleas'd with this Answer, the Retiring Ghost
Condens'd the ambient Air, and in a Cloud was lost.