The four Ages OF ENGLAND OR, The Iron Age. With other select POEMS. written by Mr. A. Cowley.  
Cantabit vacuus, &c.  

LECTORI.  
Qui legis ista, tuam reprehendo, si mea laudas  
Omnia, stultitiam; si nibil, invidiam.   Owen Ep. pag. 1. 
Printed in the year 1648.   

To the truly worthy, and worshipful, Mr. I. S. of P. Esquire.  
Honoured Sir,  
IT is not the worthiness of the work, nor workman, can whisper any confidence of your acceptance of this trifle; but only the seasonableness and truth of the subject (of which you are more than an eyewitness) gives it boldness to kiss your hand. This Poem was calculated only for the Meridian of some private friends, not daring to gaze in the face of the World, because it's near kin to truth, and therefore to danger. Nor did the Author desire so to strumpet his Muse, as to prostitute her to the embraces of every one, being not ambitious of the airy title of a Poet. Neither let it present itself to your eye the less worthy, because now martyred by the press, though it be become now so adulterated with false and scandalous Pamphlets, that it is a dishonour for a legitimate fantasy to derive a title from thence. My humble request to your Worship is, that you will vouchsafe to enrich these lines with your view, and pardon the forward ambition of him, whose glory is to be known of you, at the becoming distance of  
Your worship's most humble Honourer, {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman}   

To the Reader.  
Reader,  
WHether courteous or not, 'tis all one to me; Thou hast here the moderate observations of one, that neither is nor desires to be engaged in either party of these wars, till he sees both honester. Thou hast here the verdict of a Spectator, who hath beheld this Military Game, played by both Gamesters, and hath seen pelting on both sides. Thou hast here Truth, painted in her own Colours, (that is, in none) and justling Vice, wheresoever, & in whomsoe'er she meets it. Thou hast here the Causes, Effects, and conjectural consequences of these unnatural Divisions: the times lookingglass, wherein (be what thou wilt) thou shalt see thy face, and find something that concerns thee. And (if thou wilt lay aside aside thy {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman}) here thou shalt read thy own self a main cause of this War. Thou hast here other things, which I will not, Mountebank-like, set out beforehand; because I would have thee take some pains to read, what I have took pains to write: perhaps some pleasure; (Olim haec meminisse juvabit) Only take this lesson in thy hand, before thou read, thou must resolve to unconceit thyself, and to be moderate, and yield to truth: on that condition I am  
Thine: Farewell.   

The Proem.  
HOw idle is th' idolatry of those,  
That on their fancy can no Theme impose,  
Till they Apollo, and his train invite,  
To be propitious unto what they write!  
'Tis but our folly (folly may b'in wit)  
To make a god, and then to worship it.  
I've often writ, and never yet found odds,  
Whether I writ with, or without those gods.  
I care not for the poet's Hill, nor Spring;  
Losers may speak, and empty men may sing.  
Sorrow's my Helicon, if poverty  
Makes Poets, Troupers Pegasusses be.  
Inspire me grief! let Phoebus and the Nine  
Help amorous Verse; they are too soft for mine.  
I mean to weep the murders, rapine, rage,  
That are synaerised in this Iron Age.  
For who can sing? An airy mirth belongs  
To mirthful themes, these days are not for songs.  
Reader, prepare thy faith: for I shall tell  
A story (that transcends a miracle)  
Of vices, that so great, so many be,  
That they're beyond the reach of poetry.  
Behold a populous Nation, powerful too;  
And her own self does her own self undo:  
The Phoenix of the world, which is become,  
(Who was the pride) the scorn of Christendom.  
That stood like Atlas while it stood together,  
But now divided, 's wrested any whither.   

The Golden Age.  

CHAP. I.  
GOne are those golden Haltion days, wherein  
Men uncompelled, for love of good, fled sin:  
When men hugged right & truth, whose souls being clear,  
Baffled the threats of punishment or fear.  
No laws, no penalties, but there did rest  
A Court of equity in each man's breast;  
No trembling prisoner to the Bar did come,  
From his severer Judge t'xpect his doom;  
No need of judge or Executioners,  
To keep by Law that which by right was theirs.  
The pine not then his mother-mountaines leaves,  
To dance lavaltoes on th'unconstant waves.  
Walls clothed not Towns, nor did men's safety stand  
In moving Forts by Sea, on fixed by Land.  
They understood not Guns, nor spears, nor Swords,  
Nor Cause, nor Plunder, and such martial words;  
No armed soldier stood for their defence,  
Their chiefest armour was their innocence.  
Man's quiet nature did not feel that fire,  
Which since inflames the world, too great desire.  
Kings did not load their heads with Crowns, nor try  
By force or fraud, t'invade the liberty  
Of their obedient Subjects; nor did they  
Strive with anointed sovereigns for sway;  
But Prince and people mutually agree  
In an indissoluble sympathy.  
Religion flourished, and the laws increase,  
Both twined in one, the Gemini of peace.  
An universal concord tuned then  
Th'unjarring thoughts of many-minded men  
In an unblemished harmony. Then right  
Spurned the proud thoughts of domineering might;  
And lawrelled Equity in triumph sat,  
Upheld by virtue, which stood candidate,  
And kerbed the power and craft of vice, maintained  
By the instinct which in men's nature reigned:  
Th'unspotted soul could not attainted be  
With Treason 'gainst the highest majesty;  
Vice was a stranger to't, nor could it 'bide  
To club with Av'rice, or converse with Pride.  
Nor was it plun'gd i'th' whirlpool of those crimes,  
That have inthraled now these degenerate times.  
Th'imprisoned will than durst not whisper Treason,  
But cringed to th' Dictates of its rectress, Reason.  
Friend was the soul of friend, and every man  
Fed, like a stream, the whole, its Ocean.   

CHAP. II.  
THe pregnant Earth untilled did yield increase,  
And men enjoyed what they possessed in peace.  
The Winter plundered not the leaves from trees,  
Nor skurfed the ground with hoary Leprosies.  
No scorching Summer, with Canicular heat,  
Parboiled their bodies in immoderate-sweat.  
What ever autumn plucked, the Spring did bring,  
An endless harvest wed an endless Spring.  
The quartered Year mixed in a bunch did come,  
And clung itself t'an individuum.  
Then floods of Milk, than floods of Nectar, flowed,  
And on the fertile Earth all plenty growed.  
Th'enamelled fields with Tapestry were crowned,  
And floating Honey surfeited the ground:  
Of purest blessings men enjoyed their fill,  
And had all good, 'cause they did nothing ill.    

The Silver Age.  

CHAP. I.  
Man's nature not content with this, did range  
To further things, fancy is prone to change.  
Then domineering Will began to stir,  
And scorned that Reason should rule over her.  
Active ambition would not be content  
To keep its self within its Continent;  
But, being unsatiable, doth aspire,  
Like oil; enjoyment makes the flame blaze higher:  
And Appetite, the servant to each sense,  
Would not obey, but have pre-eminence.   

CHAP. II.  
Art's were invented, studied, men began  
T'instruct the ground, to plough the Ocean.  
The year's quadrangled, People did begin  
T'erect them houses to inhabit in:  
coffined their limbs in clothes, (Clothes first were meant  
But for necessity, not ornament:  
But pride, the child of plenty, made them grow  
From warmth to comely, thence t'a gaudy show:)  
Then such magnificence in them begun,  
That glittering vestures seemed to stain the Sun;  
Houses to Babel's swelled, and were baptised  
With their own Founders names; and men devised  
All ways to write their names, that they might be  
Read in the Rolls of vast eternity.  
Turrets on tiptoe stood, to kiss the Skies,  
And Marble Pillars to the Spheres did rise.  
Towers did periwig their heads in clouds,  
As if those were their bases, these their shrouds.  
Men decked their walls, and dressed their spacious rooms  
With costly excrements of Persian Looms;  
And guiltless Aras was condemned to be  
Hanged, for no crime, but its imagery.   

CHAP. III.  
Ship's crossed the angry Seas, with Billows hurled,  
And in their race begirt the spacious world,  
Rifling it of its treasur●s, to delight,  
With rarities, the craving Appetite.  
The ransacked Indies brought in weekly rates,  
To feast their curious taste with delicates;  
The burdened fields brought in centuple crops,  
Dischannelling themselves into their laps;  
Yet having stripped the earth of what she wore,  
They not content with this, dive still for more.  
And the embowelled earth is brought to bed  
Of treasures, which within her nature hid.  
Music, the soul of pleasure, still prepares,  
To breathe delicious Accents in their ears;  
Arabia contributed her gums,  
And wanton Zephir from all Gardens comes  
With odorifrous smells, which did so vary,  
The Phoenix soil did seem ubiquitary.  
And in all these the touch and sight did meet,  
For what was bliss to touch, 'twas bliss to see't.   

CHAP. IV.  
THen with what pomp they feasted, with what state  
Each several course wallowd in antique Plate;  
Dish followed dish, and course succeeded course,  
Still chimneys took Tobacco by the force  
Of a continue fire, which was heaped on  
For a new meal, ere tother scarce was done.  
All outward blessings were in one conjoined,  
That might delight or satisfy the mind.  
Each place was plenty's Magazine, to fill  
Their hearts, yet they had a plus ultra still.  
Men bathed in plenty, and in pleasure rolled,  
Then they found out that strife-begetting Gold.  
Now men stretch their estates wide, that they might  
Like their desires, be boundless, infinite,  
Wide as the Horizon; the careering Sun  
Scarce in a day their limits could outrun.  
Big-bellied chests uncatechised lay,  
Waiting a general accounting day;  
Uneunuched purses precious stones did wear,  
Nor did they then the gelding Troopers fear:  
Yet having all these riches, they were poor,  
Cause, having much, they still desired more.  
Dropsied desire did teach men to be vile,  
From hence did flow the seven-headed Nile  
Of deadly sin. This gave sinister birth  
To injury; but Justice on the earth  
Had yet some being, laws enacted were,  
Men must do right, though not for love, for fear.  
Just equity fettered the hands of might,  
With both hands armed, and yet both hands were right.  
Then vicious minds were bridled by the Law,  
And judgements kept disordered men in awe.  
Times trod on th' heels of times, but as they grew,  
The old were still outstripped in vice by new.    

The Brazen Age.  

CHAP. I.  
THen men so vile did grow, so prone to sin,  
The bonds of Law no more could keep them in;  
They strived t' embark themselves for hell; then shame  
And modesty were banished, and the name  
Of faith and truth grew odious, in whose room  
Fraud, coz'nage, force and treachery did come,  
Boldly out-staring virtue; and that vice  
Of sword, plague, famine, spawning avarice,  
Teeming with Legions of sins; with these  
Men did commit Adultery, to increase  
Their Progeny, and thus at length did raise  
As many newborn sins i'th' year, as days.  
So pride and avarice became the twins  
Of general mischiefs, colonels of sins.  
Ease taught men sloth, sloth ushered in excess,  
Excess nursed pride; pride, lust; lust, wantonness;  
That rapes; rapes, incest; incest, Sodomy;  
This brings unnatural bestiality.  
And thus our sacred bodies, that should be  
God's holy temples, built of purity,  
Are now profaned by sacrilegious sin,  
And become dens for thieves t'inhabit in.  
Yea Garrisons of rebels, and by these  
Men so abused that crown of blessings, peace;  
That it was so corrupt, so full of sin,  
It must be lanced; thus did our woe begin.   

CHAP. II.  
THe angels of the Church did soar so high,  
Like Lucifer, they lost their Hierarchy;  
They first from grace, and then from glory fall;  
Some turning devils brought disgrace on all.  
To all new fashions they their zeal translate,  
And disciplined the Church by rules of State.  
Hetrodox tenants did the Truth invade,  
And men's inventions grounds of Faith were made.  
One Ceremony did another send,  
Nor did Will-worship know a bound or end.  
Their Canons were as various as the winds,  
Nay (which is more) unconstant as their minds.  
Choked with their great Revenues, they become,  
(Who, being empty, sounded well) quite dumb.  
Nay they did hold it an extreme disgrace  
To execute the office of their place.  
Well said a fool, who does a Bishop fear,  
May fly t'a Pulpit; for he'll not come there.  
Like Weathercocks, on church's tops, they stood,  
To oversee them, not to do them good:  
Yet being Lords, they fain would higher be,  
And guild their Lordships with a deity.   

CHAP. III.  
ANd the cramed clergy t'imitate their Masters,  
In pride and sloth, grew most Episcopasters.  
The Pulpit rusted, some had got a trick  
(As if their Sermons had been lunatic)  
To preach by th' Moon, some but at Quarter-day;  
And then their Texts were Summons to their pay.  
Some were so costive, they required a year;  
Like Elephants, some ten; then one might hear  
(To the amazement oth'expecting house)  
The groaning hill delivered of a Mouse.  
Dumb Dogs, that wallowed in excessive store;  
While those poor souls that all the burden bore,  
Could hardly get by their continue pain,  
A stipend that might them and theirs maintain.  
And though one serve a cure, nay two, or three,  
He must a scrivener and schoolmaster be;  
Yet all these trades will scarce so much allow,  
As a good time may get, that goes to plough.  
Instead of this, they studied Law, and read,  
Not what God says, but what the Judges said.  
Their care of bodies choked their care of souls,  
They more frequented Westminster then Paul's;  
They prayed i'th' Temple often, but it was,  
That their feeed Lawyer would maintain their cause  
Others, to pleasure, pride and ease inclined,  
Studied to pamper their luxurious mind,  
With wine and banquets; but in most of all,  
The Golden Number was dominical;  
So that it was become a common speech,  
The way to spoil a Priest's to make him rich.  
If one preached well, he was in life so evil,  
A Saint in Pulpit, out of it a devil.  
Their lives confute their Doctrines; for they strove,  
Which most should act the sins they did reprove,  
The one might think, that whatsoever they say,  
Were to be done the clean contrary way.   

CHAP. IV.  
ANd the vain people, always prone to ill,  
Follow not precept, but example still:  
For they disgraced themselves by what they do?  
And taught the people to disgrace them too.  
Thus that soulsaving Function 'gan to be  
A public scandal, and an obloquy,  
By the base vulgar, who were glad, for this,  
To blaze their spiritual father's nakedness.  
The Office so abused, men scorned to do it,  
Unless bare need, or gain did force them to it:  
And men unfit, unuseful for the State,  
Yet were accounted good enough for that.  
And why? the sordid Gentry, in whose hands  
They'd got the Church-Revenues, and her Lands,  
Turned Publicans, and stood at church's door;  
None Must come in, but who paid well therefore.  
These were Church-merchants, & by them did gain,  
As those by warrres, though they dealt not so plain.  
He that would buy a horse, or take to's Bride  
A daughter, got a Benefice beside.  
If sacrilege to steal from Churches be,  
What's he that steals a Church, nay two or three?  
Well did a herald their base nature note,  
That gave a Wolves head to them for a coat,  
Swallowing a Church, the steeple stuck in's throat.   

CHAP. V.  
Tied to the tail of Levi, was the Tribe  
Of Many-Asses: some that won't subscribe  
To God, nor King, nor State, nor Law; but still,  
Do vow Allegiance only to their will:  
That to be cross to theirs, did bend their course  
Into a contrary extreme, far worse.  
Men of vertiginous brains, still running round,  
That, cymbal-like, from emptiness do sound;  
That abhor Learning, and don't hold it fit  
For Christians to pollute their brains with it.  
They say 'tis vain for holy men to seek  
For language of the Beast, or Heathen Greek.  
Unbeneficed and poor, that have no way  
To get a stipend, but to preach and pray  
'Gainst Church and State, and 'cause they cannot be  
Famous for Learning or Divinity;  
Yet they'll do something to unroll their name  
In the large Catalogue to blab-tongued Fame.  
And though their doctrine be nor sound, nor true,  
They'll have't approved, because 'tis strange and new.  
There were some upstart Levites, hot and young,  
Active and proud, whose interdicted tongue  
imprisoned in the Dungeon of his mouth,  
For sacrilege, is now broke forth, and growth  
More violent; or such, whose ears of late  
Have both been circumcised by the State:  
Whose sufferings spread their fame from far and near;  
The giddy people flock in shoals to hear  
These zealous Saints, those pious Martyrs prate,  
With their empoisoned tongues 'gainst Church & State,  
Who in their preachments tell them, such as we  
(Beloved) suffer for our purity;  
Because we will not follow Popish lies,  
We fall by th' ears with profane Pillories.  
'Tis for our good, who open our ears to take  
The pious whispers which the nails do make.  
Peripatetic Teachers, journeymen,  
That trot t'T'america, and back again,  
To get a proselyte, these dare make Kings  
The Subjects of their talk, and handle things  
Direct 'gainst form or order, as each lists:  
Their Texts and Doctrines, both like Sepratists,  
Run from each other; and their Uses loathe  
Their company, 'cause holier than both:  
And having named a text, like cowards, they  
Straight from the unarmed words on't run away,  
And thus excuse it, that it is a breach  
Of Christian freedom, to be tied to preach  
Upon one place; they make their Doctrines run  
From Genesis to th' Revalation,  
And handle all alike, a wild-goose chase;  
They run through Countries, a coranto pace.  
They straight divide a Text in parts; but than  
●hey do not bring them to be friends again,  
●ut fall to flat adultery with the sense,  
●e getting spurious broods of Uses thence▪  
That such unnatural Children thence do spring,  
They dare make head against the Text, their King.  
These are State-Barrettors, and set by th' ears  
The Prince, and People, Commons, and the Peers:  
These kindle first; and still foment the rude  
Seditions of the cock-brained multitude;  
Who, like themselves, are Planet-struck, and vary,  
Prograde, and retrograde, ne'er stationary.  
Their heads, like Bowls, run round, unsteered by Reason  
Their Bias Faction, and their Jack is Treason.  
These ever rail at, and are discontent  
At States and Churches present Government.  
And why? not for defects do they withstand it,  
Because 'tis bad, but 'cause the laws command it.  
Eve is their Mother; they think no fruits be  
So sweet, as those on the forbidden tree.  
Some do not hate it, nor find fault therein,  
But 'cause they 've been neglected, and not been  
Employed with Hierarchy, since they suppose  
Themselves more fit for Government, than those  
That are installed; which, 'cause they cannot reach,  
(Like Dogs at th' Moon) they bark at, and still tea●●  
The people's reeling fancy to despise  
Church-orders, and embrace what they devise.  
Which always various and changeable be,  
For nought more pleases, than variety.  
These men are nine days old, and do begin  
To look abroad upon another's sin.  
To other men they are as argos-eyed  
As heaven in spangled nights, when Sol does hide  
In the Antipodes, and Stars begin  
To execute his Office; to their sin  
They are as blind as Moles; which lest they might  
Behold, they draw the curtain of their sight.  
By the foul hands of these, dirt still is thrown  
On others faces, yet ne'er wash their own.  
For he will soon espy the Mote that's blown  
In's brother's eve, who hath a Beam in's own.  
These and the Romulists, although they bend  
Their heads contrary, meet at last, and tend  
Both to burn down Religion; which doth stand,  
Like Christ o'th' cross, with Thieves on either hand.  
Extremes, both in a Circle set their feet,  
And, though contrary go, at last must meet.   

CHAP. VI.  

THe many-empty-headed multitude,  
Once moved, like Hornets, eagerly intrude  
On all employments, and run forward still  
Like Swine, steered only by their headlong will,  
The zealous cobbler pricks his leather-eares;  
And in the tub (his Pulpit) he declares,  
No Priest, no Doctrine can religious be,  
That smells of either university:  
So Ignorance, the mother of each doubt,  
Leads Faction in, and turns obedience out.  
While he translates, and edifies the soul,  
The two-eared Hatter does the Crown control;  
He Peter scorns, himself will be a rock,  
And sets men's heads upon a rounder Block.  
He with inspired fury doth declare  
There's no salvation unto those, whose hair  
Transcend their teeth in longitude, his shears  
●ave razed the locks that did besiege his ears;  
●nd lets his rampant ears grow up alone,  
the two supporters of his globous crown.  
So each Profession, from head to heel,  
Sets forth lay-Levites; and the old ones feel  
Their just deservings, suffering their due;  
They displaced old, and are displaced by new:  
And all these simples make one Mithridate  
To be a poison both to Church and State.  
New Lords create new laws; one brings a branch  
From Amsterdam, some to new England launch;  
To Scotland Rome, Judea, Turkey some;  
Some to Geneva: Back again they come  
Fraught with Religions new, of each a feather,  
All in a Chaos bundled up together;  
Which makes our Church all particoloured show,  
Like Joseph's coat, or Aesop's thievish Crow,  
A Pantheon of Religions.   

Mean time our guiltless prayers, which have stood  
Writ in the Characters of martyr's blood,  
The grace of Christian Churches, the delight  
Of God and godly men, are conjured quite  
Out of the Church, be extemporary stuff;  
Which though three hours, yet are not long enoug●  
To reach to heaven; And though their nonsense d●  
Gore at the Clouds, yet never shall come there.  
By these extremes Religion's from us flown,  
And our one Church grows many; therefore none:    

CHAP. VII.  
BUt Church & State being Twins, and none can  
The one, but straight the other falls with it.  
The Court that should a Sanctuary be  
To virtue, and the Bourse of piety,  
The throne of Justice, and excel in right,  
As't did in state, in dignity and might,  
Became th' Asylum of Ambition,  
Envy and fraud, where vice doth tread upon  
O'erswayed virtue, and doth seem to be  
Virtue itself, veiled o'er by policy.  
Injurious persons of all sorts resort,  
As to the horns o'th' Altar, to the Court.   

CHAP. VIII.  
THe Laws themselves grew lawless, and the Tribes  
O'th' Gown entailed their consciences for bribes,  
Like cobwebs; Laws the lesser flies entrap,  
But great ones might break thorough, and escape:  
They were no more defence, but grew to be  
A legal violence, licenc'd injury.  
Courts were called Courts of Justice, but it is  
Because there's none there by Antiphrasis.  
The ambidextrous Judges bribed, rebribed,  
And lesser gifts to greater still subscribed:  
Queen-money made and unmade all decrees,  
And Justice grew adulterate for fees:  
It had a balance, but so falsified,  
That it inclined still to the weightiest side.  
If bribes did plead, they must needs grant the suit,  
For gifts have power to move, although they 're mute;  
They had got pearls within their eyes, that so  
They scarce the truth from injury did know.  
Instead of Judges, Pride, Oppression, Fraud,  
Injustice, violence, the Bench invade;  
Justice, the junior Judge, sat like a block,  
Or puisne Baron, but to tell the clock.  
What ere the cause be, whether bad or good,  
It must be felt, ere heard or understood.   

CHAP. ix..  
THe under-Foggers, with their dagled gowns,  
Like Samson's foxes tails, inflame the towns,  
Make Suits, as Conjurers raise winds, and why?  
That they might lay the same, and get thereby.  
They did entail their Clients, and their Suit,  
From term to term, and every Term renewed;  
Till the poor Client had no Suit but that,  
And starv●d his purse, to make their pouches fat.  
How slenderly a Cause is spun, when 'tis  
Bandied between Clotho and Lachesis.  
They must anoint their jaws with bribes, or else  
Their venal tongue nor truth nor falsehood tells.  
Their tongues angelical, their consciences  
Strung to their client's purse, where no pence is;  
The client is discharged of his pain,  
Till to his cost, he do recruit again.  
They hoist their Fees 'bove Statute, Law, or task,  
As if't were Law to pay what they did ask,  
Whose cheverle-Consciences, stretched far and wide  
And they still wore them on the wrongest side.  
Yet these dunce-Deskmen to such wealth did rise.  
Their State nobilitates their families.  
Who e'er began a Suit, theyled draw them on  
To the third and fourth Generation;  
As if th' were tenants in Fee-simple to them,  
And they had power, by degrees t' undo them.  
They can't a Cause for one year calculate,  
Like Erra Pater 'twas ne'er out of date.  
So he that hath been wronged, and comes to these  
For help, 's like one that leaps into the Seas  
To 'scape a storm: or like the sheep that goes  
To a bush, for shelter from the cold, and lose  
His wool; and so by that is rendered more  
Unable to endure it, than before:  
For so much cost and trouble there is in it,  
That the poor client, when he did begin it,  
(Though he should have the best on't) he were better  
Be overthrown, and would be greater getter.  
What an eternal Term on't will they hold,  
When Causes come, wrapped in a shower of gold!  
There's no Vacation then: Like mastiffs they  
Destroy the Wolves, because they mean to slay  
Or fleece the flocks themselves. The other twin  
That did run round i'th' zodiac of sin,   

CHAP. X.  
WEre spiritual Courtiers, these were more sublimed  
In their injurious cunning, and they climbed  
To a diviner stile: what ere they do,  
Though ne'er so wrong, was Law and gospel too.  
Each Proctor at his pleasure could derive  
T' himself the church's power legislative.  
Who not appears, or is behind in Fees,  
The Church must, whensoe'er the summoners please,  
Excommunicate, give up to Satan, till  
God gives him grace to pay his lawyer's Bill.  
Bawdry was bought, and sold, and for a Fee  
Men might have licence for their lechery:  
●f any had offended, th'only curse  
Was the dear penance of an empty purse.  
And for a yearly custom, an old Bawd  
Might have a Patent to set up the trade.  
Upon the Sabbath they allowed to play;  
But if one wrought upon a holiday,  
Oh 'twas a crime that nought could expiate,  
But the large bribing of an Advocate!  
He's in a wretched case, each Christian knows,  
That has no better Advocate, than those.   

CHAP. XI.  
THe galenists, those Factors for our health,  
Were so infected with this love of wealth,  
That generally our wounds and all diseases,  
Were slight or mortal, as the Doctor pleases:  
And all our maladies were ever dated  
By th' purses strength, as if th' were calculated  
For all nativities, what ere they be;  
The purse is still purged by phlebotomy:  
The poors' incurable, the rich must have  
An endless gout in's joints, that wi●l not leave  
Till all the money from the purse be done;  
Then he that could not go before, can run.  
Besides those Quacks, that strumpet to each slave,  
For a small price, that smaller art they have,  
Who, without Judge or Jury, basely kill  
More than they cure, to exercise their skill:  
Who need no plague but their own ignorance,  
Accompanied with their Arts masters, wants.  
The state-physicians more perverse than these,  
Cured bad diseases with worse remedies.  
For sicknesses do usually fall  
On Bodies politic, like natural  
These proved right empirics, and without all doubt,  
Wrought the state's end, to bring their own about.  
For most that seemed to be the kingdom's friends,  
Tipped public Justice still with private ends.  
These made the three Professions of the Gown,  
(That were the grace) the odium of the Town.   

CHAP. XII.  
THe spring being thus corrupt, the streams can be  
Nothing but currents of impurity:  
From this red Sea of sin a crew there came,  
Differing in nought from Locusts, but in name;  
Monopolists, that (Priest-like) had a share  
In every trade, but more than tithes they were.  
These did so spawn, they got nine parts at least,  
Th' right owner scarce was to his own a Priest.  
Others were Rogues by Patent, and did draw  
A power to pole the people from the Law,  
Which they had made a stalking-horse to be,  
A legal Warrant for their villainy.  
Thus painful men, by taxes were, and rates,  
Unjustly cheated of their own estates:  
And this did make the transitory streets  
Echo with poor men's cries, where Rapine meets  
With rapine; guile with guile; and right became  
An airy title, and an empty name.  
Cities composed of several streams, that ran  
From hills and valleys, turn an Ocean;  
Where sins meet sins, like billows; and do strive  
(As they with th' Court) for the Prerogative.  
Greedy desire is Mayor, and puff-paste Pride  
Aspires, as mayoress, to sit by's side.  
Treason and cheating Sheriffs, and next such plenty  
Of capital sins, they're more then four and twenty.   

CHAP. XIII.  
ANd the tame Country, in its several Climes,  
Practise to ape the Cities baneful Crimes:  
Th' incestuous Us'rer with's own bags doth lie,  
In gendering use by damned adultery,  
Till every hundred doth survive to see  
Himself centupled in his progeny;  
While that cursed Barathrum still cries for more,  
Beggars the rich, and does devour the poor.  
And though he learning hates, and every Art  
That's liberal, yet he could find in's heart  
To turn Logician, and doth understand  
To do all things with a Contracted hand.  
He (like an ass laden with various meats)  
Bites not at all, or else but Thistles eats.  
He cheats his Back of needful ornament,  
And his poor Belly keeps perpetual Lent:  
And all to cram a Chest, having an itch,  
But while he lives, to be accounted rich:  
Or leave to 's heirs, when he to death inclines,  
(Got lawfully by him or his assigns)  
An ample patrimony, which the sot  
Consumes as fast, as ere his father got.  
The Tradesman too, whose weights & measures were  
Lighter than's wife, and shorter than his hair,  
With his oiled tongue, and dancing compliments,  
The engines of his cheating eloquence,  
Gulled men by wholesale, though his wife and he  
Both drove a retail trade, and did agree  
To ope their shops to all; whose gain did slide  
Quick as 'twas got, by luxury and pride.   

CHAP. XIIII.  
DUll gluttony did reign, and strived to kiss  
His tother sister, swinish drunkenness,  
That nursery of sins; for there's no vice  
So bad, but from this spring it takes its rise.  
How many Swine does this make in a year,  
If all were sows that wallow in the mire?  
This Anti-god that uncreates a man,  
Turns him t' a beast, or to a lump again;  
How does poor reason split itself, and sink,  
When man lies floating in a sea of drink!  
And yet they ran so violently to it,  
As if they had been only born to do it:  
'Twas manners, if a man his friend did meet,  
With pint and quart they must each other greet;  
Or if to's neighbour's house a friend did come,  
'Twas welcome styled to send him drunken home:  
Men thought no shame to glory in this sin,  
Who could drink most, as if their mouths had been  
Made not to speak, but drink, and bellies were  
But barrel-like, the continents of beer.  
Yet that's small cause to boast; did we but see,  
That a weak Hogshead can hold more than we:  
And yet we see how many a drunken Sot  
Hath drowned, and drunk all's fortunes in a pot,  
Swilling his brutish soul in beer and wine,  
While his poor family at home doth pine;  
And have no food to feed upon, but cares,  
Nor any thing to drink (poor souls) but tears.  
This is the gulf that swalloweth a-whole  
The wealth, the health of body and of soul.   

CHAP. XV.  
TH' effect of luxury and ease is lust,  
And this sets men on flame, so that it must  
Be vented by base actions, men did do  
'Gainst Gods, 'gainst Nations Laws, and Natures too;  
Great persons ranged like Goats, to slake their flame,  
With all variety; yea they kept tame  
Their Concubines, with costly motives fed;  
Their handmaids served them both for board and bed,  
By whom they issue got, and so might be  
Indeed the Fathers of their family.  
The Ladies kept preambles, men of might,  
That stood them both for service and delight;  
Men 'gainst the Grammar sinned, and did contest  
The Feminine Gender is the worthiest.  
Young men had hoary hairs, or else had none,  
And when they had been satiate with one,  
They'd ha' fire-new-ones. Nay the spiritual part  
Of Brethren loved the flesh with all their heart.  
But 'cause 'twas grown so common, they would be,  
Entwined with Sisters, but extempore.   

CHAP. XVI.  
ENvy, that hideous monster, meager, fell;  
That skeleton, is belched up too from Hell;  
She roosts in people's minds, and greatly breeds  
The bane of virtuous doers, and their deeds:  
It's own tormentress; both a plague and sin,  
Oh! how it gnaws the bones, where it gets in!  
And yet men were so chained to 't, that their eyes,  
Waxed sore at other men's prosperities;  
Malicious men did their own bodies pine,  
To see their neighbours plentifully dine;  
And be content, with all their hearts, to lose  
An eye, to have another want a nose.   

CHAP. XVII.  
HOnour became a Chattall to be sold  
(To those that ne'er were kin to't) for their gold:  
Such whose unworthy souls did wear a stile  
But as a livery, and did exile  
All noble thoughts out of their breasts, who be,  
While they're alive, graved in obscurity.  
Men, like their grandsire's tombs, titled without,  
And full of rottenness within, or nought:  
The Garbage of the world, composed of mire  
And slime, like frogs of Nile; if Gold inspire  
Their purse with life, it clarifies their fames;  
Promethean fire was nothing to those flames:  
Fame was but wealth's elixir; every Clown  
That could get wealth, might quickly get renown,  
Though they'd entrenched their bodies with such crimes,  
That they might be the scandal of the times,  
And had a dearth of worth, or good; yet when  
They'd paid for't, they must needs be gentlemen.  
Nay this Almighty Gold such acts could do,  
That Lords, nay gods, were made by angels too.   

CHAP. XVIII.  
BUt threadbare virtue, and lean honesty,  
Were thought unworthy great men's company.  
A man of learning, wisdom, breeding, wit,  
And had all parts that did conduce to it;  
Yet if his purse were ignorant of pence,  
A fig for's learning or his eloquence;  
But he must cringe and creep t' each gilded Sot,  
Whose purse is full, although his head be not:  
Thousands per annum were the only glory,  
And sweet-faced Gold the winningest Oratory;  
These favourites of Fortune, (that is, fools)  
Whose ignorance did make them foes to schools,  
And scholars, nay to all ingenious Arts;  
That had a man ne'er so deserving parts,  
And painful in a calling, two, or three,  
All could preserve him scarce from beggary.  
They so disposed it, as if 'twere not fit,  
One man should have at once both wealth and wit:  
And yet these muckworms cannot be so wise,  
To see how fortune does Eutrapelize,  
And give them wealth to plague them; good men hold,  
They're fettered slaves, although those fetters gold.   

CHAP. XIX.  
HOw many slow-wormes had we in our Land,  
twixt whom & beasts no difference could stand  
That having wealth, lived here, and spent their own,  
And having sucked out that (Leech-like) are gone.  
Whose life (if 'twere a life) cannot be found  
Guilty of one good Act, that might redound  
Unto their kindreds, friends, or Countries good,  
But even like Belly-slaves, provide for food;  
Whose minds were not emblazoned with those gifts,  
That man above a brutish Creature lifts;  
They wear no souls within, or if they do,  
They count them burdens, nay and troubles too:  
Their bodies do, like Sodom's Apples, stand,  
And they but pleonasms of our Land.  
Luxurious wantonness did still prevent  
Their natural desire of nourishment;  
They used Provocatives to eat, drink, sleep,  
From hunger, thirst, and cold themselves to keep.  
The Cankers and the Bellies of the State,  
Whose limbs stand useless, as if out of date;  
And when they die, this only may be said,  
Here lies one that was borne, that lived, and 's dead,  
By whom death lost his labour, he's no more  
But a dead lump, and so he was before.   

CHAP. XX.  
OUr giddy fancy surfeited with pride,  
In various habit even the French outvied▪  
So great was our luxurious wantonness,  
'Twas sin the Sun should twice behold one dress.  
Fashions had still a Clymax, clothing went  
From warm, to comely, thence magnificent.  
Our natural hair not shed by venery,  
Was shaved by Pride, and we our heads belie  
With womens' excrements; which might be known,  
(Only because we bought it) 'twas our own;  
Lech'ry first taught this evil to our Nation;  
Now what it wore for need, we wear for fashion.  
Women transformed to men, men women grew,  
We by the shape scarce one from tother knew;  
Such boldness those, these such effeminateness  
Possess●d, that both seemed one Androgenes.  
Faces belied with paint, and York put there,  
Where nature did at first write Lancaster.  
When angry teeth fell out, and broke their sums,  
By the pollution of their stinking gums,  
Be got by sweetmeats, or that traitorous sauce,  
The rebel to good stomachs; wholesome laws  
Women had Regiments of teeth in pay,  
And drew out several Cent'ries every day,  
To stop the Breaches, that should Poets write  
Their teeth were Ivory; it may be right.  
Their heads with massy-ruffs were bulwarked round,  
And yoked in bands, which scarce a measure found.  
With such impostures, and a thousand more,  
As if we were not proud, but pride all o'er.  
This brings new sins, new sins new plagues draw on;  
So Pride's preamble to destruction.  
A kingdom's bliss is but conditional;  
When they from Grace, they straight from Glory fall:  
For whatsoever unto vice doth tend,  
Begins in sin, and must in sorrow end.    

The Iron Age  

CHAP. I.  
THe cup of trembling, which so oft has been  
Quaffed round about us, is at last stepped in,  
And we must drink the dregs on't; we that be  
Severed from other Nations by the Sea,  
And from ourselves divided by our sin,  
Need now no foreign foes, we've foes within.  
What need an enemy the walls to beat,  
When the defendants sins do ope the gate?  
God, who at first, did man to man unite,  
Sets man 'gainst man, in a Cadmean fight:  
Limb jars with limb, and every member tries  
To be above's superior Arteries;  
The Elements and humours, that before  
Made up a compound body, now no more  
Kiss in an even tempr'ature, but try  
T' unmake themselves, by their Antipathy.  
And 'cause divided kingdoms cannot stand,  
Our Land will be the ruin of our Land.  
The State's now quite unhinged; the Ingineers,  
That have been ham'ring it these many years,  
Now ply it home, striking while th' iron's hot,  
And make our jars th' ingredients of their plot.  
Which b'ing contrived by some, whom Schism and pride  
Had long ago inflamed; now when they spied,  
The people's minds inclining to their will,  
Set on their work, and more, and more instill  
Sedition, by themselves, and instruments,  
To fill the people's minds with discontents;  
But privately at first, until, at length,  
They had increased their number, power, and strength.   

CHAP. II.  
THen first a Meteor with a Sword breaks forth  
Into this Island, from the boisterous North;  
Darting ill influences on our State;  
And though we knew not what they aimed at,  
They went to make us denizens o'th' Tombs,  
While they religiously possess our rooms:  
These, from the entrails of a barren soil,  
On an imagined wrong invade our Isle,  
Upon pretence of Liberty, to bring  
Slavery to us, and ruin to our King:  
Whose yelling throats b'ing choked, at last, with that  
Which cures all, Gold; they aimed at  
A private project, to engage the rout  
Of English Scots, to bring their ends about,  
And spoil the Crown: so what they could not do,  
By force; by fraud, they slily work us to.  
They came to help us, that themselves might get,  
And are dear Brethren; but we pay for it.  
Hence, hence our tears, hence all our sorrow springs:  
The curse of kingdoms, and the Bane of Kings!   

CHAP. III.  
THen they in public meet, and 'cause they knew,  
All their success upon the people grew,  
They feel their pulses, and their cures apply,  
Be't good or bad, still to their fantasy;  
What e'er they love to praise, and what they hate,  
In every act to give a jerk at that.  
What e'er they would have done, must not b'imposed  
By human Law, but with Religion glozed;  
And when laws penal are too weak to do it,  
Then their Lay-Levites press the Conscience to it;  
Who are maintained to preach, and pray, and pray,  
As if they had Commissions of Array,  
From heaven, to make men fight; they cry, arms, arms,  
What e'er's the Text, the Uses are alarms;  
Though they seem pale, like Envy, to our view,  
Their very prayers are of a sanguine hue.  
And though they've Jacob's Voice, yet we do find  
t'hey've Esau's hands (nay more) they 've Esau's mind.  
Their empty heads are Drums, their noses are  
In sound, and fashion, Trumpets to the war:  
These dangerous firebrands, of cursed sedition,  
Are Emissaries, to increase division:  
These make God's Word their pander, to attain  
The fond devices of their factious Brain:  
Like Beacons, being set themselves on fire,  
In people's minds, they uproars straight inspire.  
Or, like the devil, who, since from heaven he fell,  
Labours to pull mankind, with him, to hell:  
In this beyond the devil himself they go,  
He sowed by night, they in the daytime sow.  
He while the Servants slept, did sow his tares,  
They boldly in God's Pastors sight sow theirs.  
They've tongue-tied Truth, Scripture they've made a glass,  
Where each new heresy may see his face.   

CHAP. ix..  
THey make long speeches, and large promises,  
And giving hopes of plenty, and increase;  
Cherish all discontented men at hand,  
To help all grievances; they crouch, and stand  
Congying to all, and granting every Suit,  
Approve all Causes, Factions; and impute  
All scandals to the Court, that they're unjust,  
And negligent, given to delight and lust;  
And what's done there (to give the more offence)  
They still interpret in the worser sense.  
In all they make great shows of what they'll do,  
They'll hear the poor, and help the needy too:  
For in all civil Discords, those that are  
Disturbers, always counterfeit the care  
Of public good; pretending, they will be  
Protectors of the people's liberty;  
The privilege o'th' State, the good o'th' King,  
The true Religion; yet all's but to bring  
Their own designs about: they'll ruin all,  
That they may rise, though the whole kingdom fall.  
By these delusions, used with dexterous Art,  
They drew all factious spirits to their part:  
The childish People gazing at what's gay,  
Flock to these shows, as to a Puppet-Play;  
Like drunken men, they this way, that way reel,  
And turn their minds, as Fortune does her wheel.  
They long for novelty, are pleased with shows,  
And few truth, from truth-seeming Error knows.  
Their love (like Frenchman's courage) does begin  
Like powder, and goes out, as soon 's 'tis in.  
The thing or person, whom they dearly love,  
Within a moment hate, and disapprove:  
They measure every Action by th' event,  
And if they're crossed by some ill accident;  
Whoever serves them, ne'er shall recompense,  
With all his virtuous deeds, one slight offence.  
So wretched is that Prince, that Church, that State,  
That rests upon their love, or on their hate.  
They'll all be Kings, and Priests, to teach and sway  
Their Brethren, but they can't endure t' obey,  
Nor rule themselves; and that's the only cause,  
Why they've plucked down Religion, and the laws,  
And yet will settle neither; that they might  
Have fair pretences to make people fight:  
For, by this cunning, every factious mind  
Hopes to find that, to which he's most inclined;  
They like Miscellionists, of all minds be,  
Yet in no one opinion can agree;  
Their Planet-heads they in Conjunction draw,  
As empty Skulls meet in a Golgotha.  
Each head his several sense, though senseless all,  
And though their humours by the ears do fall,  
In this they jump, to disobey and hate  
What e'er's enjoined them by the Church or State:  
And all strive to be Reformation-men;  
Yet putting out one evil, bring in ten.   

CHAP. XV.  
GReat men, that would be little Kings, did come:  
Some led by discontent, be ambition some:  
Others of ruined fortunes, but a mind  
To pomp, to sloth, and luxury inclined;  
Who longed for civil wars, that they might be  
Installed in wealth, or we in misery:  
These bobtailed bears, would fain like lion's reign,  
And clowns would drive, or ride in Charles his Wain.  
These, by their greatness, were the heads of Faction:  
The Commons must be hands, and feet of Action,  
That must by force defend, if they had need,  
Their grand design; Thus on their plots succeed.  
All humours stirred, none cured; jar, yet conspire,  
To be all fuel, to begin the fire;  
Some go in wantonness to see, and some  
Must go, because they cannot stay at home;  
Villains, that from just death could not be free,  
But by the Realms public calamity;  
They 're like the Milt, which never can increase,  
But by the body's ruin or disease;  
That with our money must recruit their chests,  
And only in our trouble, have their rests;  
Such as in luxury, in lust, in play,  
Have prodigally thrown their states away;  
Convicted persons, bankrupt Citizens,  
That spend their own, and long for other men's:  
Servants, which from their Masters hither flee,  
And change their bondage for this liberty:  
Men of high thoughts, and of a desperate mind,  
Wild Gallants, whose vast thoughts were not confined  
To''th' Circle of the laws; and all, whom want  
Or guilty Conscience made extravagant,  
Flocked in to make up this new colony,  
Where heinous Crimes had got a Jubilee:  
And as in this, so 'tis in every state,  
Men of low fortunes envy still and hate  
The good, extol the bad, they disapprove  
All ancient laws, and novelties do love:  
Disdain their own estates, and envy those,  
Whose wealth above their ruined fortune goes.  
These are secure from troubles, for they're poor,  
And, come what can, they can't be made much more.  
Nor was't a small incentive, to behold  
How the poor Skowndrells wallowed in Gold;  
How Kingly in their diet and array,  
And how they do their betters daunt and sway,  
To whom they had been vassals heretofore,  
And been perhaps relieved from their door.  
This made the Peasant, who did work for's hire,  
Or beg, or steal, leave ploughing, and aspire  
To imitate the rest as well's he can,  
First steals a horse, and then's a Gentleman.  
A young physician well may guess th' events,  
Of medicines, made of such ingredients;  
For how unlikely is't, things should go right,  
When th' devil's soldiers for God's cause do fight.  
'Mongst these they stole the hearts of some that be  
True meaning men, of zeal and piety,  
Though ignorantly zealous, still possessed  
By their strange Doctrine, that none could be blessed  
That were not Actors, who did neuters stand,  
God would spew out; Opposers out of hand  
Should be cut off; No mercy, they decreed,  
To th' Enemy, though Christ should intercede:  
No pardon: but their goods, moneys and all.  
As guerdon of their facts to them should fall.  
Wealth, pleasure, honour, that were wont to be  
The general spurs to all activity,  
Were largely promised unto every one,  
Just as they found his inclination.  
It was esteemed an ordinary grace,  
For broken Citz to get a captain's place.  
The wealthy Citizens, whose gluttonous eye  
Gazed on the public faith, that lottery,  
Though they for fear or shame were loath to do it,  
They'd cut down Boughs, and cry Hosanna to it:  
They brought their plate and money to this Bank,  
Hoping for Prizes, but draw forth a Blank.  
Themselves reserve the Prizes, and this stands  
Still gaping, like the bottomless Quicksands.  
You might tract plate, like beasts, to th' lion's den,  
How much went in, but none came out again?  
Here was our Primum mobile of woe!  
This was the Mother and the Nurse on't too!  
Thus many were drawn in: But those that were,  
Not moved by love, were driven on by fear.   

CHAP. VI.  
THe adverse part, perceiving their intents,  
Prepared them powers for their own defence.  
The Gentry for the baseness they did do,  
Were quite discountenanced, and justly too:  
They grew degenerate, and Gentility  
Was but a nickname, or a livery,  
Which every wealthy Clown might have, and wear,  
And be styled worshipful. They took no care  
To keep their blood untainted from the stain  
Of vulgar sordidness, and so maintain  
The glory of their Ancestors, that be  
Derived to them from vast eternity;  
But mixed the Blood that had enriched their veins,  
With each ignoble Slave, or Trull, for gains.  
Learning, wit, virtue, birth, report, that be  
Essential bases of gentility,  
Veiled all to wealth; and that's the Cause we find,  
So many rich in purse, so few in mind.  
How many Justices did wealth advance,  
That had nothing to show, but ignorance?  
They lived, like Cedars, and their drops from high  
Made th' poor, like underwoods, to starve and die:  
That in what place we saw so many poor,  
Some great man lived not far, we might be sure.  
Now these that so imperiously did awe,  
When they perceived men did not care a straw  
For their commands, but that the shrub began  
To be as stately as the Gentleman;  
Then they (though not for conscience sake) oppose  
Them, that t' infringe the Kingly power arose.  
The truly noble Heroes (for there be  
Two contrarieties in each degree)  
Are by the blindfold people made to bear  
In suffering (though not in sin) a share;  
For when the vulgar to be Judges come,  
Than all must suffer for the fault of some.  
They quickly saw, when the bold Subject dares  
Usurp King's Rights, 'tis time to look to theirs.  
The vulgar, knowing little, but b'ing led  
By th' Priests, or Gentry, join to make a head  
Each as his fancy leads him.  
Some ambidextrous villains took one part,  
And yet held with the other in their heart:  
Such men desire our wars may still increase,  
And fear of nothing but a needy peace.  
Mean while the Newters, Jacks of both sides stand,  
Poising themselves, on both, yet neither hand,  
Like Goddesses of victory attend,  
To take the conqueror's part i'th' latter end.  
Those that are wisest, were they argos-eyed,  
And (Bythian-like) had every eye supplied  
With double sight, yet they could hardly see  
Which side to take, and save their Bacon free.  
So betwixt both, these civil wars o'er-whelm  
Th' whole superficies of this wretched Realm:  
This land that was a Canaan, while 'twas good,  
Is now the sad Aceldama of blood.   

CHAP. VII.  
ANd now the great State-gamesters plainly find,  
All, either stirred in body or in mind.  
The instruments prepared, to work they fall,  
Ambiguous oaths (Treasons original)  
They now invent, impose; First men are made  
To swear amiss, and then they do persuade,  
Those oaths bind them to do what these intend,  
Stretching poor souls to bring about their end.  
Now jealousies and fears, which first arose  
From the polluted Consciences of those  
That were the first contrivers; these divide  
The limbs from th'Head, nay from themselves beside  
One won't confide in tother; this, although  
It rose from nothing, to a world did grow.  
Nor did it lose by th' way; like Balls of snow,  
It bigger still, as it did go, did grow.  
Both separate themselves, and each intends  
Distance, a great advantage to their ends:  
Those, that had active been on either side,  
Are mutually accused, sent for, denied:  
This makes both stick to what they had begun,  
And each his course more eagerly did run.  
First they fall to't by pen, which did incense  
Both parties with a greater vehemence;  
From hence names of disgrace at first arose,  
And each to other made more odious:  
And the amazed people did invite  
To lay aside their tedious peace, and fight.  
They plainly saw the war, before they could  
Discern the Cause on't; and they might behold  
Th' effects, though not the quarrel; they well knew  
That they must feel the war, and end it too.  
War, like a Serpent, at the first, appeared  
Without a sting, that it might not be feared;  
But having got in's head, begins to be  
The sole Monopolist of monarchy.  
Thus by degrees we ran from peace; to go  
Downward, was easy; but b'ing once below,  
To reascend that glorious hill, where bliss  
Sits throned with Peace, oh what a labour 'tis.  
Our floating eyes, in seas of tears, may see  
The heaven we 're fallen from; but our misery  
Does more increase, to tantalise to th' brink,  
In happiness, when yet we cannot drink.  
Now we must fight for peace, whose worth by most  
Was not discerned, till utterly 'twas lost.  
None know the good of peace, but such as are  
Broiled in the furnace of intestine war.   

CHAP. VIII.  
NOw having used the effeminate war of words,  
Which did enlarge the jars, at length the swords  
Apparelling themselves in robes of blood,  
Sat Doctors of the chair, which never stood  
To hear the Cause, but quickly does decide  
All that comes near, and without skill divide  
All individuums. 'Tis a fearful Case,  
When undiscerning swords have Umpires place:  
That have two-edged to wound, but have no eye  
To sever Justice from iniquity.  
When rage and Ignorance shall moderate,  
That understand no Syllogisms, but straight  
Turning all method into cursed confusion,  
Majors to Minors, bring both to Conclusion.  
And now the great Reformists only care  
Is how to help those miseries which were  
Of their own rearing Faction, like a Snake,  
Stings those, from whom it did a quick'ning take.  
First, all the kingdom to a need they draw:  
Then make that need, they 've brought, their only Law  
This Mint of laws stands not on observation  
Of Statutes fixed (the birthright of our Nation)  
It's turned a warlike council, and no more  
A legal Senate, as it was before.  
Now S●lus Populi begins to be  
The general Warrant to all villainy,  
Of which themselves are Judges; lawless need  
(The conquering rebel to all laws) does plead  
A privilege, what e'er they say or do,  
New need still make them act contrary too.  
When any injured Subjects did complain,  
These two laws paramount could all maintain.  
Religion too, and fundamental laws  
Are both o'erruled by a Law, called Cause.   

CHAP. ix..  
OUr quarrel is a working jealousy  
Fixed in a severed kingdom, both sides be  
So diffident of each, they'll rather die,  
Then trust each other: such antipathy  
Springs from this ground; Subjects dare spill the blood  
Of their anointed sovereign, for his good.  
Th' ungrateful Son, forgetting natures laws,  
Dares kill his Father for the good of's Cause.  
Fathers their sons; and Brothers, Kinsmen, Friends  
Do seek their Brothers, Friends, and kinsmen's ends.  
Arms, that long useless lay for want of war,  
Are now called forth, more summoned from far.  
English to English are become a terror;  
One wicked action is a seconds mirror.  
Each strives in mischief to transcend another,  
And every Christian is a Turk to's Brother.  
Blows seldom fall upon a barren ground,  
But bear centuple crops, they still rebound.  
Rage begets rage, men do in vice climb higher,  
And all bring fuel to increase the fire.  
Conscience rejected, men their forces bend,  
Which shall the rest in height of sin transcend.  
Now faith and loyalty grow out of date,  
And Treason is the goal that's aimed at.  
The sacred league twixt body and the soul,  
Which laws preserved inviolate, and whole,  
Is daily broke, and that sweet Bridegroom forced  
From his beloved Spouse to be divorced.  
Each man is drunk with Gallus, and grows mad;  
Nor can there Hellebore enough be had,  
To reinstate our reason in its throne;  
Nor have we sense enough to feel we've none.  
Th' Age was so vile; the Iron Age of old  
Compared with ours, may be an Age of Gold.  
We in the times of peace, like th' Ocean, were  
Impenetrable, till Divisions tore  
Us from ourselves, and did divide us quite,  
As the Red Sea was by the Israelite.  
And we, like walls, facing each other, stand  
To guard our foes, while they devour our Land.  
We are like those that vainly go to Law,  
And spend their Corn, while they defend the straw;  
We sue for Titles, Castles in the air,  
Egged on on both sides by the martial Lawyer,  
Who says, the Cause is good: but what's the fruit?  
We spend the substance to maintain the Suit.  
At last, we purchase at so dear a rate,  
A larger title of an empty State.  
But oh! the general Law-Case of our Nation,  
Doth know no term, nor yet our woes Vacation.   

CHAP. X.  
NAy we can't soon enough ourselves undo,  
But we call others in to help us too.  
They bring their pocky Whores, and do desire  
To drive us from our Land by sword and fire.  
These serve as Umpires, not to work our peace,  
But that their wealth may with our Wars increase:  
For foreign aids, and Contributions are  
Not to conclude, but to prolong the war,  
All for their own advantage; not t'expire,  
But (Fuel-like) t'increase the fatal fire.  
We (like the steel and flint) do fall by th' ears,  
And each by mutual blows his fellow wears:  
Mean while the soldier (like a wily Fox)  
Purses the golden sparkles, which our knocks  
Strike forth: so we must all expect no less  
Then certain ruin, or a sudden peace.  
These Journey-Souldiers will expect a pay,  
Nor can fair promises their stomachs stay:  
Plunder but blows the flame; they will so far  
Engage themselves in our unnatural war,  
That when they end it, it shall be so well,  
They'll take the fish, and give both sides a shell.  
They (phoenixlike) will from our ashes rise,  
And 'tis our ruin only satisfies  
Their bloody minds; and we may justly fear,  
They will have all, not be content to share.   

CHAP. XI.  
HOw direful are th' effects of civil war!  
No Countries, Cities, Corporations are,  
Nor Families, but their division's so,  
That their own selves will their own selves undo.  
One's for the King, and tother for the States,  
And the poor soldiers, like the Andabates,  
Fight blindfold, shoot, are shot, are wounded, die,  
Only because they do, not knowing why.  
Yet those whom rage had hurried on to stay  
Each other in the Exodus o'th' day,  
Breath with their souls their anger out, and lie  
Kissing, or hug each other when they die:  
And though in life they had such enmity,  
Meet in one death, and there they both agree.  
Two Armies now against themselves do fight,  
For th' public good, so equal both in might,  
That betwten both the Kingdom's like to fail,  
And both to fall, but neither to prevail:  
Yet both in disagreeing do consent,  
To be the Realms continual punishment.  
While some, like camels, take delight to swill  
Their souls i'th' troubled waters of our ill,  
That are on foot o'th' kingdom, and do rise  
When that does fall, and on our miseries  
Do float, like Arks, the more the waves aspire,  
The more they dance, and are exalted higher.  
That (Leech-like) live by blood, but let such know,  
Though they live merry at the kingdom's woe,  
'Tis a sad Obit, when their Obsequies  
Are tuned with widows, and with orphan's cries.  
Woe be to those, that did so far engage  
This wretched kingdom in this deadly rage!  
That both sides being twins of Church and State,  
Should slay each other in their fatal hate.  
This mountain sin will clog their guilty souls,  
Whose poisonous breath hath kindled all these coals;  
And when their souls do from their bodies fly,  
If they have burial, (which they so defy,  
And 'tis more fit their carcase meat should be  
To Beasts, whom they transcend in cruelty)  
Posterity upon their tombs shall write,  
Better these men had never seen the light:  
'Tis just that all Achitophel's of State,  
That have his policy, should have his Fate.   

CHAP. XII.  
THe Sun four times, and more, his course hath run,  
Since we began to strive to be undone;  
Since millions, heaped on millions, do concur  
T'increase the sinews of this too strong War:  
The glutted ground hath been parboiled in blood  
Of equal slaughters, victory hath stood  
Indifferent Arbiter to either side,  
As if that heaven by that had signified,  
Both were in fault, and did deserve to be  
Both overthrown; not crowned with victory.  
While Saw-pit warriors blind the people's eyes,  
On both sides with mock-victories, and lies;  
And tell us of great Conquests, but they be  
Totall defeats given by synecdoche:  
When one side is the Master of the field,  
Tother strived to recruit, but not to yield;  
And which soever won, was sure to lose,  
The Conquests being the conqerors overthrows:  
Skirmishes every day, where soldiers get  
Salmatian spoils, with neither blood nor sweat:  
To overcome by turns both sides agree,  
Horses are taken, but the men go free.  
Towns have been lost and won, and lost and won,  
Whole Counties plundered, thousands been undone,  
All to no purpose: wars still keep their course,  
And we instead of better, grow far worse:  
War does the nature o'th' Abeston hold,  
Which being once made hot, grows never cold.  
We have a Lease of lives on't, our heirs be  
Entitled to our plagues, as well as we,  
By lineal succession. Peace is quite  
Ejected from possession of her right;  
Passion's like heavy bodies; down a hill  
Once set in motion, do run downward still:  
The quarrel's still inflamed, Jealousies  
And Fears increase, Malice doth higher rise:  
Want comes upon us armed: Humanity  
Dissolves to savageness; Friendship doth lie  
Trod underfoot; neither can nature's force,  
Or consanguinity, beget remorse,  
Or uninrage men's fury; now the Sword  
Is Lord Chief Justice, and will not afford  
Law the copartnership; for none must be  
Primate or Metropolitan, but he.  
Laws are but ligaments of peace, which are  
Broken (like threads) by all in time of war.   

CHAP. XIII.  
Plundering, that first was licenc'd by that Cause,  
That turns even lawlesseness itself to laws,  
Spurred on by need, and sweetened by the gain,  
Grows epidemical, and spreads amain.  
It slights the difference of friends and foes,  
And like an uncurbed Torrent, over flows.  
That which before was felony, 's the same  
Only new christened with a German name.  
This violent killing men, which was ere while,  
Condemned for murder, now they valour stile.  
Opposing of a Parliament, they bring  
Now to be due allegiance to the King.  
And who the King's Prerogative do hate,  
Are now called faithful Servants to the State.  
The King (a syllable that used to be  
Sacred; a name that wore divinity)  
Is banded on the tongue of every slave,  
And most by those to whom he quickening gave.  
The cobbler's Crow hath now forgot to sing  
His {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman}, but cries, kill the King.  
He, on whose health, wealth, safety do depend  
Our health, wealth, safety, and with whose they end:  
He, whom the everlasting Potter chose  
A vessel for himself, is by his foes  
Scandalled, despised: those Phaeton's of Pride,  
Would pull him down, that they might up and ride.  
Our wealth, the excrement of all our toil,  
For which, in days of peace, we did so moil,  
And care to rake together, ●s quickly gone,  
Like a scraped portion on a scattering son.  
Gold, which we made our God, and did adore,  
Is but a cause to make our Plagues the more;  
The worldlings Mammon, which (he did suppose)  
Made him nor love his friends, nor fear his foes,  
Is now his snare; nay 'tis become a sin,  
Now to have wealth, which heretofore hath been  
Our only virtue. We call those good men,  
That swelled with goods, not goodness; now 'tis grown  
Our only innocence, if we have none.  
The idle soldier doth devour the store  
That painful men have laboured for before;  
Unstock the grounds, and clean deface the fields;  
Th'untutored ground scarce any harvest yields.  
The grass for want of cattle, dries away,  
And without labour turns itself to hay:  
Corn while it grows, is eat or trodden down;  
Of if it happen to be reaped or mown,  
Right owners do but toil the more about it,  
To bring't to them, themselves must go without it:  
They work, fare, lie hard, all to maintain Knaves,  
So that at best, they are but Troopers slaves;  
And now in them is Adam's curse made good,  
They with much labour get a little food.  
Some men will toil no more to till the ground,  
Because no profit of it does redound  
Unto themselves, or (which is worse) for want  
Of Horse or Hinds, those that would do it can.   

CHAP. XIIII.  
ALL which do usher in a famine, that  
Comes seldom unattended; Graves grow fat,  
When captain Lack comes with his hungry Troop  
Of fell diseases, and takes people up  
To victual death a Garrison; then all  
That 'scape the Sword, must by the Famine fall.  
We, to our grief, shall find that axiom true,  
Who die without the sword, die by it it too.  
Need will create new foes, for hunger grows  
A warrant to all villainy, and knows  
No Property nor Right; wrongs legal be  
By that authentic Law, necessity.  
Spurred on by this, no man will pass or care,  
So he may have't, from whom, how, when, or where.  
Commanders make a mizmaze of the war,  
And all their battles subtle motions are.  
If one remove his men, the other will  
Move after him, and so they follow still;  
But yet they have a Precept, that confines  
Each in the compass of their mutual Lines,  
And not molest each other; they agree  
To share our goods, and set each other free,  
By mutual change. Thus that great idol Cause,  
To whom they've sacrificed the mangled laws  
Of God and Man, is but a cunning paint,  
To make a devil seem a heavenly Saint.  
While we like Turkish slaves, are bought and sold,  
Imprisoned and released, and all for Gold,  
From one to tother: Now we need not fear  
Algiers abroad, we have too many here;  
And what ere they pretend their quarrels are,  
They only fight which shall have greatest share  
In our estates, by rapine, and by stealth;  
And thus they mean they fight forth'Commonwealth.  
This lacks a house, and that desires a field,  
And new enjoyments new desires do yield;  
The Victors know nor modesty, nor measure  
Of their desires, but their gain, pomp, and pleasure:  
No moderation bridles or keeps in  
The headstrong force of a prevailing sin.  
And the Commanders too, that ought to be  
The Remora's to th' soldier's cruelty,  
Sometimes transcend the rest in vice, as far  
As they be Authority above them are.  
Beggars on horseback, that no art can do,  
Whereby we may them from inferiors know,  
But by their injuries, and those do stand  
As a sure Argument of their Command.  
Nor fight they as our Ancestors did fight,  
By force, to get our Law-denied right;  
But cauponate the war; they sell and buy  
A Town, a Castle, or a Victory.  
What ere an Enemy shall do or say,  
Is all for given, if he will but pay,  
These Garrisons are Sanctuaries still,  
To shelter those, that do, and maintain ill.  
They're Purgatories too; we go about  
To bring in Popery, while we drive it out.   

CHAP. XV.  
ANd yet these soldiers go t' undo us quite,  
And steal our reason, as they have our right:  
Both say they fight for our Religion,  
And Laws, which all our safety stands upon;  
Yet they'd bewitch us so, we should not see,  
That by this war both violated be,  
Unless we take profaneness for the true  
Religion, and injury for due.  
If prisonment be liberty, and peace  
Be made by open wars: if truth increase  
By new broached heresies; then Churches are  
Maintained by blood, and kingdoms ruled by war,  
If in those two a Gordian knot were knit,  
'Tis fit that wisdom than should open it,  
And not the sword. War is the Common nurse  
Of barbarism; soldiers add curse to curse:  
Those rude Profeffors o'th' reforming Trade,  
How unfit instruments will they be made  
To rectify the Church, that hardly name  
God, but in Oaths, when wine or wrath in flame  
Themselves above themselves: or if there are  
Men of more conscience, than the rest, or care,  
'Tis but to gloze their Actions; we all see  
Their courses are full of impiety.  
How can we exercise Religion now,  
When want of laws doth liberty allow  
To all profaneness? Such lewd men as they  
Have made the war a Common Holiday  
To all licentiousness. We hardly can  
Serve God aright (so vile is every man;)  
Nor live uprightly in such times as these,  
Being so wicked in the days of peace.  
Is this Religion, when each soldier dares  
Become a Bishop, to correct our Prayers,  
And new-coine all our orders? each retains  
A public Synod in his factious brains.  
Temples which pious Fathers have erected  
For Divine worships, how are they rejected?  
Made stalls for horse and men (more beasts than they)  
Where God did feed his flock, horse feed on hay.  
Garments to Churches given by Saints, t' adorn  
The Sheep, by sacrilegious Wolves are worn:  
And harmless rails, which stood in the defence  
O'th' Table, from irreu'rent violence,  
They have thrown down; as if they would allow  
No railing, but such as from pulpits flow.  
Who e'er but sees these acts, must needs allow  
God's House was ne'er more den of thieves, than now.  
Such bad effects, or more pernicious far,  
We must expect, when an eternal war  
Cures a divided Church; the victory  
Will prove more pestilent than the War can be.   

CHAP. XVI.  
OLd laws cannot be used, or new ones made,  
When general lawlesseness doth all invade,  
Custom and Liberty have made men's mind  
Uncapable of curbs; that should we find,  
laws reestablished with a power to sway;  
Men are more prone to suffer, then t' obey.  
The eyeless Sword 's unable to decide,  
But with its two-edged skill it doth divide  
The Client, not the Cause; Our Liberties  
Which they pretend to save, before our eyes  
Are still infringed; they every day divorce  
Us from our livings, by that law called Force.  
Nor have we Judges, to appeal for right,  
Nor law to live by, but a greater Might:  
That should we by such courses purchase peace,  
'Twould be dear bought at such high rates as these.  
Nor would I thank their bounty, that present  
Food, when my body is by famine spent:  
And all these woes (the more t'augment our Curse)  
Are but sad Prologues to an Act that's worse.  
Yet though our woes be great, and still increase,  
We're not desirous, nor prepared for peace;  
But so bewitched with their fawning knavery,  
We bind ourselves to an eternal slavery:  
For if that any peaceful Treaties are,  
Those manage them that have begun the war;  
And how unlikely is't, it should succeed,  
When Malefactors judge, and traitors plead.   

CHAP. XVII.  
THe loyal Subjects mourn, and grieve to see  
The Realm destroy itself by policy,  
To prevent ruin; and will be as far  
From blowing, as from kindling this our war;  
Not out of cowardice, or fear to die,  
But they desire to have a reason why  
This Realm is not better preserved by peace,  
Then by such ruine-bringing wars, as these:  
They see no cause so great, why 'twas begun,  
As now they do, why it should soon be done.  
They love the King in earnest, and believe,  
His presence doth a perfect essence give  
To Parliaments; which though they don't adore,  
They duly honour, and do wish for more,  
Though not for such: and they think them to be,  
If right, the kingdom's sole felicity.  
They think them not omnipotent, but be  
Men, Subjects, prone to err, as well as we.  
They love Religion, and don't hold it fit,  
To have it altered by each coxcombs wit.  
They would not have it puppeted with shows,  
Nor rudely stripped start naked of its clothes;  
As if there were no better way to cure  
A Lethargy, but with a Calenture.  
The Surplice, which so much is railed upon,  
And termed by some the Whore of Babylon;  
Wise men will not believe 'tis so; or were't,  
Whore's smocks will serve to make a Rogue a shirt.  
Or if whores do wear smocks, we do not know,  
Why honest people should not wear some too.  
It is not zeal of those that rob us of it,  
But 'cause 'twas whorish, therefore they do love it.  
Oft Preaching is not counted an offence,  
lest Treason and Sedition flow from thence:  
For it is known; they that do Faction teach,  
May (what d'ye call't) but neither pray nor preach.  
Good Preachers are as contrary to these,  
As is our Zenith to th' Antipodes.  
Those like not peace, that go about to draw  
The gospel from agreement with the Law.  
And would have so much difference betwixt  
These two, as 'tween their Doctrine and their Text.  
'Tis our desire to make them friends again,  
That so the gospel may the Law maintain.  
They are (though two) one Word, and should agree,  
As their two Authors, in one unity.  
We hate Court-lazy-Clergy, and withal  
The new State-Levites, too pragmatical.  
We pray for peace, the physic of our Nation,  
Not sprung from war, but from accommodation.   

CHAP. XVIII.  

WHy then? you tottering Bases of our Land,  
Who at this wave-tost kingdom's stern do stand,  
Why did you first begin? why do you still  
With all your force strive to prolong our ill?  
Can't all our sad Petitions? can our charms  
Of people, groaning under the alarms  
of bloody broils, nor slaughtered Subjects cries,  
Move you to end our endless miseries?  
Sheath up your Swords, and let your quarrels cease,  
Or drown themselves in a desired peace.  
The King and State are individual,  
And both must needs decay, if one do fall.  
They're like the twins of old Hypocrates,  
Both live together, both together cease.  
And what a glorious triumph 'tis to see  
Both Prince and People kiss in unity!  
Our God is all-sufficient, and as far  
In peace he's to be trusted, as in war;  
He can as well wisdom bestow, and skill,  
To treat, as power to fight; and as he will,  
Both have success. 'Tis manlike to contest  
By disputation; force is for a Beast:  
Those that do save a State from perishing,  
Do truly love the kingdom and the King.  
And as much honour will to those accrue,  
That save a kingdom, as that gain a new.  
You that are called divine; nay Gods, why then  
Do you degenerate to worse than men?  
And have no share of what should in you be,  
The chief of Attributes, just Clemency?  
Is't not as great a glory, to forget  
An injury, as take revenge for it?  
The injured Subject would be glad to hear  
That mutual love might triumph over fear.  
What if we have been injured heretofore?  
Must we, to help us, make our wrongs the more?  
If we were wet before, shall we desire  
No remedy, but a consuming fire?  
And can there be no temperate Region known,  
Betwixt the Frigid, and the Torrid-Zone?  
War is a pleasant Theme to those that do  
Not what it is, nor what it bringeth, know.  
But they will get as much that first began  
These broils, as he that ploughs the Ocean;  
Nothing but stormy billows. War's a Play,  
Which both the Stage and Actors will destroy.  
'Tis like an ostrich, hot, and can digest  
Men that are valiant, men of Iron breast.  
Would you've Religion? 'tis no godly course  
To write upon men's consciences by force.  
Faith is destroyed, and Love that cemented  
The Head and Members, now from both is fled.  
where's then our hope? God did not hold it good,  
That hands which had bathed themselves in blood,  
(Though in a lawful war) should ever build  
A Temple to his name: men's brains are filled  
With Faction so; that all who lent a hand  
To uncreate Religion, which did stand  
Established by Law; now each is left  
To his own fancy, how he please to have't.  
Now here will be no Church, each pate will be  
A cross to Christ, a second calvary.  
Nor can the earth bring any fruit that's good,  
When it is dunged with its own children's blood.  
But how melodiously the accents sound  
Of Peace, when full-chapped plenty does rebound,  
And answer like an echo!   

Peace is the Nurse of Truth, the strength of laws;  
Law, Truth, and Peace, are all Synonoma's.  
This is the good man's darling, from this springs  
The wealth of Subjects, and the grace of Kings.    

CHAP XIX.  
BUt an unbias'd reason may suppose  
Which side, by th' Sword, does prove victorious;  
Will so insult o'er his enslaved foe,  
That whatsoever does but make a show  
Of leaning to't, though in itself most good,  
Will without Law or Reason be withstood.  
Which side soe'er doth rise by tothers' fall,  
Will still remain too great, and that too small:  
And such a victory itself will be  
A greater war, a longer misery.  
For should the King prevail, 'tis to be feared,  
We justly are from Parliaments cashiered:  
And without those what can we look for, less  
Than an untrue, or else a slavish peace?  
So while we pole away his natural power,  
He's periwiged with greater, than before.  
'Tis the best conquest, when the Prince is Lord  
Of's people's hearts, by love, not by the Sword.  
For what's the King with a full power to sway,  
When there are left no Subjects to obey?  
And if the war to th' States a conquest brings,  
Have at Prerogatives, and power of Kings.  
For when the Realm is in confusion run,  
(As it must be, when e'er the war is done,)  
The people, being victors, we shall find,  
As various in desires, as they're in mind:  
They'll be controlling still, and still aspire  
To limit legal power, not their desire:  
And when their Votes are granted, are as far  
From b'ing contented with't, as now they are.  
Both King and Magistrate must look to reign  
No longer than they do their wills maintain:  
And that Great council (if they did intend)  
Can't bring the stubborn people so to bend  
T' authority, that any King shall sway  
By fixed laws, they loyally obey;  
No more than Pilots on the stormy seas,  
Can guide their cap'ring vessels, where they please.  
So we (like fools) while we do Scylla shun,  
Do headlongly into Charybdis run.  
For if we can't endure t' obey one King,  
What shall we do if we a thousand bring?   

CHAP. XX.  
HOw sad our Case is now! how full of woe!  
We may lament, but cannot speak, or know:  
Our God, in whom our peace, our plenty lay,  
In whom we lived, on whom we fixed our stay.  
Who being pleased, our foes became our friends,  
(All their designs conducing to his ends)  
Is highly now incensed, and will no more  
Own us for's people, as he did before;  
But hath delivered us to th' hands of those  
That are our Gods, our Kings, our kingdom's foes.  
And we're involved in so many evils,  
That men turn soldiers, and the soldier's devils:  
'Tis he that all this variance did bring,  
The King 'gainst us, and we against the King.  
A King, so good, so gracious, so divine,  
That (if 'twere possible) he doth outshine  
The glory of his Ancestors, yet he  
Is bundled up in our calamity.  
Better ten thousands of his Subjects fall,  
Than he whose life's th' Enchiridion of all.  
Our councel's thwarting, and our Clergy heady,  
Gentry divided, Commonalty unsteady;  
That always to the rising party run,  
Like shadows, echoes to the shining Sun.  
Religion rent with schisms, a broken State,  
Our government confused, and those, that hate  
The Realm, still undermining, those that brought  
A civil war, which all our ill hath wrought.  
The King in danger; and the kingdom rolled  
Into inevitable ruin, sold  
Unto her foes.  
Commerce and trade, the sinews of a State,  
The bane of poverty, grows out of date;  
Learning's neglected; and the Heptarchy  
Of liberal Arts, all unregarded lie.  
Our wealth decays, yet soldiers still increase,  
The more we fight, the farther off from peace;  
United kingdoms jarring, and our foes,  
Laugh at, and labour to increase our woes:  
A general jealousy, intestine hate,  
twixt several Membess of one wretched State.  
Both pretend Peace and Truth, yet both oppose;  
Which, till both do agree on't, no man knows.  
Truth is the Child of peace; the golden mean  
twixt two extremes, which both sides part from clean.  
The poor, that begged relief from door to door,  
Are like to pine; each rich man to be poor,  
And many Christians are exposed (we see)  
Unto the more than barbarous cruelty  
Of the remorseless soldiers, who run on,  
Like torrents, uncontrolled, and are grown  
Quite prodigal o'th' guiltless blood they draw,  
Emboldened by the silence of the Law.  
Streets ring with swearing, one oath brings another,  
As if one were the echo unto tother.  
Nor age, nor sex, nor quality they spare,  
They 're not alured by love, nor awed by fear.  
The Carolists, and the rotundity  
Both must be blended in one misery.  
They rack, hang, torture men on either side,  
To make them tell where they their gold do hide.  
And lovely ladies' cries do fill the air,  
While they are dragged about the house, by th' hair.  
Some ravished, others robbed of their attire,  
Whose naked beauty' flames their ba●e desire;  
And when they have deflowered those spotless souls,  
They butcher them: Whole towns calcined to coals:  
Children that from their mother's first came hither,  
Are with their mothers by them nailed together.  
From wounded hearts a bloody ocean springs,  
The King bleeds in our wounds, we in the Kings.  
Slain bodies naked lie, and scarce can have  
A Christian burial, Kings scarce a grave.  
Nor have we Zoars to fly to, from ill,  
But must stay in this Sodom, come what will;  
Where we in floating blood surrounded lie,  
Like Islands in a sea of misery:  
Nor have we either bulwarks, Forts, or arms,  
To stand betwixt our senses and our harms,  
But our bare skulls; no Trumpets, but our cries,  
And those can't help, though ease our miseries.  
Complaint's an easement to a burdened soul,  
That vents by retail, what we feel in whole;  
So on th' Hydraula's of our dropsied eyes,  
We (Swanlike) sing at our own Obsequies.  
We pour out tears, and having spent our store,  
We weep again, 'cause we can weep no more:  
Yet all in vain, our griefs do still extend,  
And know no measure, nor our sorrow's end.  
Nay, which is more, those that should help all this,  
Labour to make't more woeful than it is.  
Peace we may labour for, but ne'er shall see,  
Till men from pride and avarice be free.  
Which since we so desire, and cannot find,  
Let's make a ladder of our peace of mind,  
By which we'll scale that Throne, where peace doth dwell,  
Roabed with such joys, which none can think nor tell;  
Which neither vice can break, nor time decay;  
Nor schism, nor Treason ever take away.   
O det Deus his quoque finem.   

Postscript. To his judicious Friend, Mr. J. H.  
FRIEND,  
I Have anviled out this Iron Age,  
Which I commit, not to your patronage,  
But skill and Art; for, till' ● be filed by you,  
'Twill seem ill-shaped in a judicious view:  
But, having past your test, it shall not fear  
The bolt of critics, ●or their venomed spear.  
Nay (if you think i● so) I shall be bold  
To say, 'tis not an Age of Ir'n, but Gold.  
A. C.   

Eidem.  
HIc Liber est mundus, homines sunt (Hoskine) Versus;  
Invenies paucos hîc, ut in orbe, bonos.  Owen. Ep.  

To my Lord lieutenant of Ireland.  
HOw much you may oblige, how much delight  
The wise and noble, would you die to night;  
Would you like some grave sullen Nictor die,  
Just when the Triumphs for the victory  
Are setting out; would you die now t' eschew  
Our Wreaths, for what your wisdom did subdue:  
And though they 're bravely fitted for your head,  
Bravely disdain to wear them till you are dead?  
Such cynic glory would outshine the light  
Of Grecian greatness, or of Roman height.  
Not that the wise and noble can desire  
To lose the object they so much admire:  
But Heroes and Saints must shift away  
Their flesh, ere they can get a holiday:  
Then like to Time, or Books feigned Registers,  
Victors, or Saints, renowned in calendars,  
You must depart, to make your value known;  
You may be liked, but not adored till gone.  
So cursed a Fate hath human excellence,  
That absence still must raise it to our sense:  
Great virtue may be dangerous; whilst 'tis here,  
It wins to love, but it subdues to fear:  
The mighty Julius, who so long did strive  
At more than man, was hated whilst alive:  
Even for that virtue which was raised so high,  
When dead, it made him straight a Deity.  
Ambassadors, that carry in their breast  
Secrets of Kings and kingdom's Interest,  
Have not their calling full pre-eminence,  
Till they grow greater by removing hence:  
Like Subjects, here they but attend the crown,  
Yet swell like King's Companions when they're gone:  
My Lord, in a dull calm the Pilot grows  
To no esteem for what he acts or knows,  
But sits neglected, as he useless were,  
Or coned his Card, like a young Passenger:  
But when the silent winds recover breath,  
When storms grow loud, enough to waken death,  
Then were he absent, every Traffiquer  
Would with rich wishes buy his being there.  
So in a kingdom calm you leave no rate,  
But rise to value in a storm of State.  
Yet I recant; I beg you would forgive,  
That in such times I must persuade you live:  
For with a storm we all are overcast,  
And Northern storms are dangerous when they last.  
Should you now die, that only know to steer,  
The winds would less afflict us then our fear:  
For each small statesman than would lay his hand  
Upon the Helm, and struggle for Command,  
Till the disorders that above do grow,  
Provoke our curses, whilst we sink below.   

A satire AGAINST Separatists.  

I'Ve been Sir, where so many Puritans dwell,  
That there are only more of them in Hell:  
Where silenced Ministers enough were met  
To make a Synod; and may make one yet.  
Their blessed liberty they've found at last,  
And talked for all those years of silence past.  
Like some half-pined, and hunger-starved men,  
Who when they next get victuals, surfeit then.  
Each country of the world sent us back some,  
Like several winds, which from all quarters come,  
To make a storm: As't haps, 'tis Sunday too,  
And their chief rabbis preach. To Church I go,  
Where, that we men more patiently may hear  
Nonsense, to God at first he speaks it there.  
He whines now, whispers straight, and next does roar,  
Now draws his long words, and now leaps them o'er.  
Such various voices I admired, and said,  
Sure all the Congregation in him prayed.  
'Twas the most tedious soul, the dullest he,  
That ever came to Doctrines twenty three,  
And nineteen Uses. How he draws his Hum,  
And quarters Haw, talks Poppy and Opium!  
No fever a man's eyes could open keep;  
All Argus body he'd have preached asleep  
In half an hour. The Wauld, O Lawd, he cries  
lukewarmness: And this melts the womens' eyes.  
They sob aloud, and straight aloud I snore,  
Till a kind Psalm tells me the dangers o'er.  
Fleshed here with this escape, boldly to th'Hall  
I venture, where I meet the Brethren all.  
First there to the grave clergy I am led,  
By whatsoever title distinguished,  
Whether most reverend bachelors they be  
Of Art, or reverend Sophs, or no Degree.  
Next stand the wall-eyed Sisters all a row,  
Nay their scald-headed children they come too:  
And mingled amongst these stood gaping there,  
Those few laymen that not o'th' Clergy were.  
Now they discourse; some stories here relate  
Of bloody Popish Plots against the State:  
Which by the Spirit, and providence, no doubt,  
The men that made have found most strangely out.  
Some blame the King, others more moderate, say,  
he's a good man himself, but led away:  
The women rip old wounds, and with small tears  
Recount the loss of the three worthies' ears.  
Away you fools, 'twas for the good o'th' men;  
They ne'er were perfect roundheads until then.  
But against Bishops they all rail; and I  
Said boldly, I'd defend the Hierarchy:  
To th'Hierarchy they meant no harm at all,  
But root, and branch for Bishops; to't we fall;  
I like, a fool, with reason, and those men  
With wrested Scripture: a sly Deacon then  
Thrust in his ears, so speaks th' Apostle too:  
How speaks he friend? not i' th' nose like you.  
straight a She-zealot raging to me came,  
And said, o'th' what d' you call it party I am;  
Bishops are limbs of Antichrist, she cries:  
Repent, repent, good woman, and be wise,  
The devil will have you else, that I can tell,  
Believe't, and poach th' eggs o' those eyes in hell.  
An hideous storm was ready to begin,  
When by most blessed Fate the meat came in,  
But then so long, so long a Grace is said,  
That a good Christian when he goes to bed,  
Would be contented with a shorter prayer:  
Oh how the Saints enjoyed the creatures there!  
Three Pasties in the minute of an hour,  
Large, and well wrought, they root and branch devour,  
As glibly as they'd swallow down churchland;  
In vain the lesser Pies hope to withstand.  
On Geece and Capons, with what zeal they fed?  
And wondering cry, A goodly bird indeed!  
Their spirits thus warmed, all the jests from them came,  
Upon the names of Laud, Duck, Wren and Lamb,  
Canons and Bishops Sees; And one most wise,  
I like this innocent mirth at dinner, cries,  
Which now by one is done; and Grace by two;  
The Bells ring, and again to Church we go.  
Four Psalms are sung, (wise times no doubt they be,  
When Hopkins justles out the liturgy)  
Psalms, which if David from his seat or bliss  
Doth hear, he little thinks they're meant for his.  
And now the Christian Bajazet begins;  
The suffering Pulpit groans for Israel's sins:  
Sins, which in number many though they be,  
And crying ones, are yet less land than he:  
His stretched-out voice sedition spreads afar,  
Nor does he only teach, but act a war:  
He sweats against the State, Church, learning, sense,  
And resolves to gain Hell by violence.  
Down, down even to the ground must all things go,  
There was some hope the Pulpit would down too.  
Work on, work on good zeal, but still I say,  
Law forbids threshing thus o'th' Sabbath day.  
An hour lasts this two handed prayer, and yet  
Not a kind syllable from him can Heaven get,  
Till to the Parliament he comes at last;  
Just at that blessed word his fury's past:  
And here he thanks God in a loving tone,  
But Laud; and then he mounts: All's not yet done:  
No, would it were, think I, but much I fear  
That all will not be done this two hours here:  
For now he comes to, As you shall find it writ,  
Repeats his Text, and takes his leave of it;  
And straight to his Sermon, in such furious-wise,  
As made it what they call't, an Exercise.  
The Pulpit's his hot Bath: the brethren's cheer,  
Roast-beef, Minced-py, and Capon reek out here.  
Oh how he whips about six years ago,  
When superstitious decency did grow  
So much in fashion! How he whets his fist  
Against the name of Altar, and of Priest!  
The very name, in his outrageous heat,  
Poor innocent Vox ad placitum how he beat!  
Next he cuffs out Set-prayer, even the Lords,  
It binds the Spirit, he says, as 'twere with cords;  
Even with-Whip-cords. Next must authority go,  
Authority's a kind of binder too.  
First, than he intends to breathe himself upon  
Church government; have at the King anon.  
The thing's done straight, in poor six minutes space  
Titus and Timothy have lost their place;  
Nay with th' Apostles too it e'en went hard,  
All their authority two thumps more had marred;  
Paul and S. Peter might be sure o' th' doom,  
Knew but this Lion Dunce they'd been at Rome.  
Now to the State he comes, talk an alarm,  
And at th' malignant party flings his arm;  
Defies the King, and thinks his Pulpit full  
As safe a place for't, as the Knight does Hull.  
What though no Magazine laid in there be,  
Scarce all their Guns can make more noise than he.  
Plots, plots he talks of, jealousies, and fears.  
The politic Saints shake their notorious ears;  
Till time, long time (which doth consume and wast  
All things) to an end this Sermon brought at last.  
What would you have good souls? a reformation?  
Oh by all means; but how? o'th' newest fashion;  
A pretty slight Religion, cheap, and free,  
I know not how, but you may furnished be  
At Ipswitch, Amsterdam, or a Kingdom near,  
Though to say truth, yond paid for't there too dear:  
No matter what it costs, we'll reform though;  
The Prentices themselves will have it so.  
They'll root out Popery whats'ever come,  
It is decreed; nor shall thy fate, O Rome,  
Resist their Vow: They'll do't to a hair; for they,  
Who if upon Shrove-Tuesday, or May-day,  
Beat an old Bawd, or fright poor Whores they could,  
Thought themselves greater than their Founder Lud,  
Have now vast thoughts, and scorn to set upon  
Any Whore less than her of Babylon.  
They're mounted high, contemn the humble play  
Of Cat, or Football, on an Holiday  
In Finsbury Fields: No, 'tis their brave intent  
Wisely t' advise the King, and Parliament:  
The work in hand they'll disapprove or back,  
And cry i'th' Reformation, What d' you lack?  
Can they whole Shopbooks write, and yet not know  
If Bishops have a Right Divine or no?  
Or can they sweep their doors, and shops so well,  
And for to cleanse a State as yet not tell?  
No; study and experience makes them wise,  
Why should they else watch late, and early rise:  
Their wit so flows, that when they think to take  
But Sermons notes, they oft new Sermons make:  
In Cheapside-cross they Baal and Dagon see,  
They know 'tis gilt all ore as well as we.  
Besides, since men did that gay idol rear,  
God has not blessed the Herbwives trading there.  
Go on brave Heroes, and perform the rest,  
Increase your fame each day a yard at least,  
Till your high names are grown as glorious full  
As the four London Prentices at the Bull:  
So may your goodly ears still prickant grow,  
And no bold hair increase to mar the show;  
So may your morefield's Pastimes never fail,  
And all the towns about keep mighty Ale;  
Ale your own spirits to raise, and Cakes t' appease  
The hungry coyness of your Mistresses:  
So may rare Pageants grace the Lord-Mayors show,  
And none find out that those are idols too.  
So may you come to sleep in Fur at last,  
And some Smectymnuan, when your days are past,  
Your funeral Sermon of six hours rehearse,  
And Heywood sing your acts in lofty verse.  
But stay; who have we next? mark and give room,  
The women with a long Petition come;  
Man's understanding is not half so great,  
Th' Apple of knowledge 'twas they first did eat.  
First than Pluralities must be ta'en away;  
Men may learn thence to keep two wives, they say;  
Next scholarship and Learning must go down;  
Oh fie! your sex so cruel to the Gown?  
You don't the kindness of some scholars know;  
The Cambridge women will not have it so.  
Learning's the Lamp o' th' Land, that shines so bright,  
Are you s'immodest to put out the light?  
This is a Conventicle trick. What's next?  
Oh with the Churches solemn forms they're vexed,  
The sign o'th' cross the forehead must not bear,  
'Twas only you were born to plant signs there.  
No Font to wash native concupiscence in,  
You like that itch still of original sin.  
No solemn Rights of burial must be shown,  
Pox take you, hang yourselves, and you shall ha' none.  
No Organ; idols to the ear they be:  
No anthems; why? nay ask not them, nor me:  
there's new Church music found instead of those,  
The womens' sighs tuned to the teacher's nose.  
No Surplices; no? why none, I crave?  
They're of rags Rome, I think: what would you have?  
Lastly they'd preach too; let them, for no doubt,  
A finer preaching age they'll ne'er find out:  
They've got the spirit, fiery tongues they've, that's true;  
And by their talk those should be double too.   

OH times! oh manners! when the Church is made  
A prey, nay worse, a scorn, to every Cade  
And every Tyler: when the popular rage  
(The age's greatest curse) reforms the age;  
When reason is for Popery snppressed,  
And Learning connted Jesuitism at least;  
When without books Divines must studious be,  
And without meat keep hospitality;  
When men 'gainst ancient Fathers reverend days  
That many-headed beast Smectymnuus raise,  
That Hydra which would grow still, and increase  
But that at first it met an Hercules;  
When the base rout, the kingdom's dirt, and sink;  
To cleanse the Church, and purge the fountains think,  
They who whilst living waters they might take,  
Drink Belgian ditches, and the Lemnian lake;  
When th' Liturgy, which now so long hath stood  
Sealed by five reverend Bishops sacred blood,  
Is left for nonsense, and but pottage thought;  
Pottage from heaven, like that to Daniel brought,  
Their broths have such weeds mixed, and are so hot,  
The prophet's sons cry out, Death's in the pot.   

Oh times, oh manners! but methinks I stay  
Too long with them; and so much for to day:  
Hereafter more, for since we now begin  
You'll find we've Muses too as well as Pryn.   
FINIS.