AGATHOCLES THE Sicilian USURPER. A POEM. — Mutato Nomine, de Te Fabula narratur.— LONDON Printed for J. C. and are to be sold by Walter Davis in Amen Corner, 1683. The Preface. IF a Poem have a Genius (says the Incomparable Author, in the Preface of Absalon and Achitophel) it forces its own Reception in the World. The Maxim however generally true in the Theory, yet we find but very few Instances wherein it holds, in Practice. And the Reason may be this; That Genius he intends there, that Irresistible Charming Genius is scarce any where to be met with, but in his own Absalon, and some other of His Works. The Event in that was suitable to his Praesages, because they were founded on an Vnerring Impartial Judgement; but He that writes after him with the same Expectations, I am afraid, the Partiality, and Weakness of his Judgement will too soon appear in the Event. 'Tis not therefore with any such vain Thoughts that the following Poem ventures into the World; The Honesty it carries in the Design is all it has to plead for itself, and in that particular, (if I may say it without Offence) it is very loath to yield even to the Best Poem that ever was writ. Therefore without endeavouring at farther Apologies, I shall only trouble the Reader with a short Account of the Poem. If any desire a particular Relation of the Life of the Sicilian Tyrant, I would refer them to Dr. Perrinchiefe his History of Agathocles. But for the Person Characterised under my Usurper, it is sufficient for my purpose, if he contradict not the Sicilian Story, though, it may be the Parallel is not exactly drawn. I suppose there will need no Key to decipher him, since those Men, who have so near outlived the Act for Renouncing the Solemn League and Covenant cannot but remember Whom their Rebellious Practices, at last, advanced to the enslaving the Good People of England. I must confess their renewing lately the Old Methods would make one believe they had forgot how miserably they laboured under the sad Consequences of such Measures. Examples are commonly said to leave deeper Impressions on the Minds of Men, than Precepts; and those Examples have been esteemed fittest for that purpose, which are drawn from Histories not too remote from the Persons to whom they are directed. If so; the ensuing Poem may promise itself some success, which affords an Example so far from being too distant from, that, even yet the Characters of his Tyrannies are too frequently to be read among us. To have made my Usurper die in his Bed had been too notorious a Trespass upon the Sicilian History, which tells us that He was Poisoned by Maenon a Malcontent. And some have been of the Opinion that our Late Agathocles made his last Exit the same way. What ground they might have for that Opinion is not my Business here to inquire; but for the former Reason, and to avoid a Solecism in Poetry, I have taken it for granted. And though my Maenon might, possibly, not be the Man, who did this Nation that Good Office, yet He was One, who with the greatest probability might be presumed to have done it, or procured it to be done. Here the Poem might have concluded; but who could have declined the Honour of bringing the Excellent HIERO to his Undoubted Right and Crown? For my part, I could almost as easily have forgiven the present Disturbers of his Peace, as my own Self, had I been guilty of an Omission so near approaching to an Indirect kind of Treason. I am very sensible that I come Infinitely short of a just Representation of that Happy Time, but, I hope, it derogates not from the Pleasures of Heaven, that they are such as cannot be expressed by grovelling Men; and it is some Excuse for us, that upon such Occasions our Words are too little for our Conceptions, as well as our Conceptions for those Transcendent Things. AGATHOCLES THE Sicilian Usurper. A POEM. UNhappy Man! whom cursed without Redress, It seems beyond the Power of Heaven to bless. Not that, oppressed with charge, it's forced to spare; Or that It looks on Man not worth the Care No, It's own Rights and Properties It gives, But Man defeats his Great Prerogatives: Of all things, to Himself, he only owes The Ill he suffers, or the Good he does. Cursed in that fatal Liberty of Will, Cursed in free Choice, because still choosing iii. T' our Great first Parent Monarchy was given, A Sacred Model from the State of Heaven, Where One Blessed King fills the Eternal Throne, And with a Father's Love rules All, alone. That Love, entailing Right on Birth, did place Succession in the Line of such a Race, For Government did carefully provide, And all Defects in Mortal Power supplied. Thus, for a while, Mankind received its Lord, In peace One King obeyed, One God adored. Till that dark Principle, his Will, did blind The nobler judging Faculty, his Mind. Then with blind Zeal to many Gods he bowed, Then many Lords enslaved th' Unthinking Crowd, Monsters, and Dogs usurped the Throne, and Sky, As fear would King, or Folly Deify. Then flowed all Ills, which naturally spring From debauched notions of a God or King; For God, and King, essentially, are One, Many, in each, always implying None. But now they rue the Plagues their folly brought, (A purchase just, by change, and rashness bought,) The Plagues of all the Modes of Government Ambition, or Confusion can invent. In vain, for ease, they change each tottering frame, The Form may change; the Misery's the same, Still grasping at, but never finding Rest, Unfixt, and but half satisfied at best. 'Tis just we greet the Glorious Sun with praise, Who feel th' Influence of his kinder Rays; To whose blessed Heat, and noble Light we own, The daily Comforts of the World below; But 'twere unfit we should abandon Light, And on each other prey, like Beasts, by night, Because some Earthborn Comets than appear, Amaze the Rout, and seem to Govern here. Those dangerous Objects dazzle Vulgar eyes, Unable to impose upon the Wise, Who see Death's ghastly face thro' the too thin Disguise. They see the Plagues they scatter thro' the Air, And find the seeds of some Impending War. 'Twere no less madness, for redress, to fly To the weak helps of Ignes Fatui, The lower Region's base Democracy. Some signs of Men, some shapes of walking Clay, Insensible o'th' benefit of Day, May leave the way when those false Lights appear, In hopes of Safety and Refection near. But, left in danger by th' expireing Light, Thro Fens, and Boggs they wander all the night, Till Day's return their drooping Spirits cheers, Displays their Dangers, and dispels their Fears. And wretches, by such Vapours near undone, This glory add to the Returning Sun, His presence ends the mazes they have run. Witness Sicilia to the truth I tell, (Sicilia taught, by sad experience, well!) Who all the yokes of Tyranny has worn, Wasted by Wars, by striving Factions torn, Tired out with fruitless Change, and forced, at last, To kneel to Injured Monarchy for rest. Against the Coasts of fruitful Italy, The Pride, and Envy of the Midland Sea, The dearest pledge of Nereus' beauteous Store, The fair Sicilia spreads her lovely Shoar. A narrow Isthmus (fame tells,) joined the Bride Of old to her Rich Latian Husband's side, Torn off, and ravished since by amorous Force Too rough by slow advances to divorce. Now in soft watery folds it clasps the Place, With endless kisses, and a Dear embrace. For Capes, and form Trian'glar known of old, But more for temperate Clime, and fruitful Mould. The healthful Air does Life's short Span prolong, And the rich Soil makes it seem always Young. For Grain excelling neighbouring Parts so far, Their Bards than sang 'twas Ceres' only care. Much fatal Steel it's guilty entrails hold, Much Tinn, and some few Veins of treacherous Gold. From Spain, at first, the old Sicani came, From them the Island took its ancient Name. These were a pleasant, Courteous, Valiant kind, To guests innately Sweet, but not Refined, With noble Anger could resent a wrong, But scorned to hoard Revenge, or Malice long. Tender of Right, yet did not Change admire, Firm to their Prince, and to their Friend entire. Brave; but too weak to foil the Roman Band, Whom fame of wealth had brought t'invade the Land. With ease the warlike Siculi o'er came, Possessed the Land, and once more changed the Name. Next these some Colonies of Grecians come, Whose o'er stocked Hives afford no room at home. These new Intruders the Sicani drive TO a Western Cape, 'mong Hills and Woods to live. The Grecian Arts, and Genius they transplant, The only seeds the happy Land did want. But Learning quickly ran o'er all the I'll, Suiting the temper of the fruitful Soil. Each age that flowed did constantly improve, And Arts still found a more peculiar Love. With zeal they all the mighty work pursue, Cherish the Old, and propagate the New. Thus, by Degrees, they to that Ac●me came, Might justly challenge all the breath of Fame. Their Wit Eternal, as their Godlike mind, Without all Affectation most Refined, In real Knowledge passing all Mankind. Loved Race! whom Heaven and Nature strove to bless, With th' utmost stretch of Human happiness; But fate, which bore Eternal spite to Man, Left out the fairest Link of all the Golden Chain. The noble Link of Constancy they need, Of firm Adherence to their lawful Head. That only Blessing added to their store, The fates could grant, and they could wish no more, Yet Kings they had, (and might have still been blest,) Fortune in War, and Wealth in Peace possessed; The warlike Gelo, and Good Hiero's Name Had left some lasting footsteps of their Fame. But still the Compound Roman-Grecian Race Retained the Humours of their former Place. The first Resentments that provoke their Cries Are Heavy Loans, and frequent Subsidies, Pursuing next with an Implicit Hate The Crowns best Friends, and Ministers of State. Hard fate of Statesmen, who forgo their Ease For Public Safety, yet so seldom please! They rule Inferior Mankind for their Share, And ease the Gods of more than half the Care; While Crowds profanely quarrel with their Good, And Providence deny, because not understood. Led by a Traitorous Mongrel Kind of Flamen, A wretched Medley betwixt Priest and Layman! Somewhat from each the Pulpit Zanys stole To dress their Pride and Lust in Ridicule. These Holy Men, pursuing Earthly Ends, Taught, None could be the Prince and People's Friends; That precious Liberty, and Wealthy Kings Were mere Repugnant, Inconsistent Things. And more to smooth the Blasphemy's they said, The Gods were parties in their Treasons made. Blessed, Neverfailing, Specious Design, In common Interest Heaven and Earth to join! With these conspired the Throng of Libelers, Their Daily Bread was Jealousies, and Fears, And swelling with the ill-digested Load The poisonous Vernim cast their Filth abroad. Secure themselves in no Estate and Name, They valued no man's Person, or his Fame; Till to that height their prosperous Gild was grown They strove t' eclipse the Glories of the Crown. Conscious all hopes of Pardon were foregon, The hardened Wretches sinned, and scribbled on. 'Twere endless to repeat the loathsome Cries Of daily Letters, Pacquetts, Mercuries; Thro all the Land the catching Venom spread, As all, whom Mad Dogs by't, themselves run Mad; But ablest Huntsmen, as the easy'st Cure, Hang the Distract, the Kennel to secure. Nor must we here the Factious Clubs forget, In Close cabal where Treason nightly met. Shameless She sat, and naked to each eye, And laid the Masque of Public Interest by; No more that Name was heard among the Crowd, But base Revenge, and private Wrong were Loud. A numerous huddled Concourse filled the place, Cracked Citizens, and Lawyers in Disgrace; Vexed Courtiers, Officers without Command, Raw Esquires lately bubbled of their Land. Pleased with a Ruban, and a Patriot's Name, The Boon Garson, and Fop of Business came. Honour, and Age alike Indifference met, And Noble Peers with Zealous Joiners sat. Yet 'twas but fit; all were Mechaniques there, And Public Good was measured by their Square. There 'twas resolved, when next the Senate sat, What Subject was the ripest for Debate; What Greivances 'twas proper to present; What Limb to lop next off the Government. And still the more th' Indulgent Sceptre gave These Men found greater Reason more to crave. Till, by excess of Goodness quite undone, They levelled with the Ground the Weakened Throne. Uncertain Grandeur, which must fall no less If Monarches are Indulgent, or Oppress! False Demagogues into such Failings pry, And founding all the Power in Property, Their Master's they depress, to raise the People's high. Inferring, 'cause he gave too much before, For Common Safety He must now give more. But, grant, all Power in Property we found, Yet why, from hence, must Kingly Power lose ground: For in the Prince all Property we own, And Subjects are but Tenants to the Crown. Else, why of Old did Men Allegiance swear, Bound up to Feods, and ready Arms to bear. 'Tis hard to think (Well-meaning Men!) they swore, Or paid, to hire what was their Own before. Thus Property in Kings, by Heaven, defined, To Subjects, on Conditions, is consigned. From whence 'tis plain, in Exigence of State, The People should refund, not King abate; For, if their Property he Dangerous make, 'Tis more than One can give, or t'other take. So Ministers that err, though by their Prince's Will, Yet suffer Justly, 'cause He can't do iii. But now 'twas time these Artists should produce Their boasted Secret of such sovereign use; And Liberty, prepared to the Projectors will, Was guilded for the Universal Pill. No Cheat so prized, so easy to obtrude, Do Charlatans' impose upon the Multitude. The Grief which made the People first complain, Was an excess of Blood which crazed their Brain; So these Physicians, by Long Wars, thought good To cool the Fever of their Patient's Blood. And more their Reputation to assure, Turned the Disease itself into the Cure; Their very Sickness was but Fancied Pain, And Fancied Ease all they were like to gain. All Old Imaginary Fears were dead, Good Real New Ones reigning in their stead. The Arms, which e'rlong the Earth did shield, Like Jason's Harvest, covered all the Field; And Troops, which lately hovered in the Air, Lodged in Free Winter Quarters every where. Thus all things altered for the better still, 'Cause 'tis more Manly to fear Real iii. The Mart for Liberty than most in use, Grown Rich by th' Trade, was ancient Syracuse. And 'twas but just They should engross the Gain, Who ventured most the Secret to obtain! The Syracusans were a Restless Race, In War Dejected, Turbulent in Peace. Still Dreading, and still Doting after Fears, Fond of Shame Plots, and New Discoverers. These made them arm on every slight Pretence, And Chain their Streets, and boast their Strong Defence. Their Growth of Buildings, and still Changing Tide, Expressed their Constancy, and Want of Pride. An Hard-mouthed Beast, for slackened Rains unfit, And must be managed with the Spur, and Bit. Faction, and Noise now made their Magistrates, And want of Worth was Title to their Seats. To choose their Praetor, as before, in Course, Destroyed the People's Choice, and, what was worse, Resembled an Hereditary Thing, And looked too like the Hated style of King, If, spite of Arts to gain the Major Vote, Merit, and Right sometimes the Fasces got, The Suburb Rout, in Droves, came roaring down, While Midnight Riots filled th' affrighted Town. Bonfires in mere Contempt of Power were made, And Barefaced Villains 'gainst the Good inveighed. Bonfires the Emblems of the People's Rage, Which Puppets Sacrificed a while assuage. May Heaven no Dearer Sacrifice require, May their Offence among those Flames expire! But God too far Provoked revenges Fire by Fire! The Western Town was called Neapolis, Itself a City, though but part of this. There, while a Senate was, the Members met, Bold without Rashness, Active without Heat. Their willing Duty still supplied the Throne, True to the ancient Splendour of the Crown. Their pious Care b' Expedients would unite The Subject's Safety, to the Prince's Right. No men so often, or so justly blest, The truest Balance, and the Fairest Test, Of Private Good, and Public Interest. The Bulwark of the Nation, and the Law, To shelter Loyalty, and Treason awe. But these had been!— Then a packed Senate sat, Of Fools, and Knaves to model the new State. A Glorious Work, and like to take effect, Where such Choice Tools, such Faithful Workmen act! The Nobles were debarred their Ancient Right, The House was purged, the Good excluded quite; (What Wonders might these Men despair to do!) The Most run down, out-voted by the Few. Those who were left could only represent The Dross, and Poor Remaines of Government. Religion, Liberty, and Law were now Hard Words, they did not, or they would not know. The Army was the only Bugg they feared, And 'twas resolved that Grievance should be cleared. This made the Swordsman fret, and Hero frown, To be so baffled by the Lazy Gown. Had they for this subscribed each Canting Clause, Espoused the Contradictions of the Cause, And fought against them, to maintain the Laws? They had their Adjutators of their own, And they should vote that Pageant Senate down. The Church Banditti too joined in the Broil, Grieved at unequal Dividend of Spoil: Some to the House, more to the Army fled, As Interest biased, or Persuasion led. The doubting Fates looked on, as at a stand Whither the House, or Army to disband. Poor Land! from Ill to Ill, so basely tossed, Beyond all prospect of Recovery lost! So easily with Fairy Freedom gulled, With glittering Tinsel paid for promised Gold! Thus our vain Hope we eagerly pursue, Pleased with the Gay Chameleon's painted Hue: And, when the long Pursuit has tired us quite, It changes Colour and deceives our Sight! Thus our Crazed Heads the splendid Species make, And we for Liberty fine Nothings take; But when we hope t' embrace a Goddess there, Our cheated Arms return with Common Air. But Oh! my Muse, thou hast but trifled yet, But told the Sport, and Raillery of Fate. Prepare thy Tragic most expressive verse The Luxuries of Misery to rehearse. The dreadful Harmony of dying Groans, Robbed Mother's sighs, and Widows piercing Moans. The Nation spoiled of her dear Youthful Store, Grovelling in Dust, and weltering in the Gore. These horrid Scenes, or Crimes transcending these, Should introduce the Cursed Agathocles. Agathocles whom the just Wrath of Fate Had made as Wicked, as his Trust was Great. His Constant Fortune, and Familiar Arts Confirmed him General in the Soldier's hearts. Yet still he abused th' Advantages he made, The Army's Idol, and the Senate's Dread. The Servant, and yet Master of the House, Whom all would fain Chashier, but feared to rouse. By their Commission, acting his own Will, Caresst, and flattered though still doing iii. The Rod stretched out by Heavens Vindictive Hand. To scourge, and humble the Rebellious Land. Yet though this Vapour blazed so in the Sky, It's Rise as base was, as it's Glory high. While, yet a boy, he learned the Potter's Trade, Each day Discov'rys of his Temper made; Unjust, and Spiteful as Tyrannic Sway, He spoiled the Finest of his Father's Clay. His Birth so abject, and his Childhood poor, Why was his Vicious Youth made less Obscure? His Youth too well, too Infamously known, Unmatched in Lewdness, and profane Renown. His Lusts disgraced the meaness of his Trade, And endless, unconstrained Debauches made His Life the Good Man's Fear, and Scandal to the Bad. Virtue, an Honourable fair Estate, By no Decree entailed upon the Great, Even by the Meanest, and Plebeian breast Is oft in Plenty, and Repute possessed. And, Heaven has ordered Things with so much Care, The Honest Man may still improve his Share. Agathocles abhorred that Thrifty Course, He daily made his little Portion worse. But Prodigals when to an Ebb they're drained, The Show, and Outside still must be maintained: So He had run his Stock of Virtue out, And now too late began to look about, Yet hoped, though he had lost all Real Sense, To piece his Credit with the Fair Pretence. To outward View a Perfect Change embraced, With feigned Regrett for all his Follies past. His stricter Life, and Morals sounded more, Drowning the Cries of his Old Faults before. Such Sudden Change but seldom well portends, So often taken up for Evil Ends. His End, in all, was only, then to please A Rising Faction 'gainst the Nation's Peace. Who under Zeal do Worldly Gain pursue, And like himself were Great Dissemblers too. These he outdid in their dear Cant, and Tone, And gained the Name of Precious Teacher soon. Oft he harangued of Liberties, and Laws, And made Religion Pimp to serve the Cause. Yet this Disguise was not put on invain His thriving Godliness still turned to Gain. The Tears, which he had taught at will to flow, The People's Wrongs made almost endless now; And fresh Complaints against the bravely Great Employed his Scurril Wit, and saucy Heat. Yet these sure signs of Zeal, and Factious Grace Advanced the Viper to a Member's place: Tho then, so low his helpless Cense was out, He scored for Stum, and Beef to buy the Rout. From hence, his bold Ambition to promote, He gained a Colo'nel's place by Public Vote. But 'twere unjust his Conduct to defame, We hate his Crimes, but envy not his Name. None e'er more faithfully performed the Trust, True to his Men, and to his Master's just. As Eminent in Dangers as Command, Performing Wonders with his Conquering Hand. Designing, Happy, ready of Dispatch, Quicksighted, and yet always on the Watch. Prepared each lost Advantage to retrieve, Or make his Foes for baffled Projects grieve. Oh! had his Soul the Paths of Virtue trod, His Glory had been Clear, his Fame as Loud! But these few Gleams of Good were darkened still, By interposing Pregnant Clouds of iii. His Restless Spirit, and Immoderate Mind, Despising Fame, to Factious Power inclined. Nothing could slake his feverish Thirst of Rule, Whom no Sin scared, no Scruple could control. His tampering Genius, and uneasy Frame, Fomented Schism, and Faction where he came; And still his Tongue so well his Cause maintained, The most, by Interest, to his side, were gained. When e'er they seemed this Projects to espouse, Nice of no Oaths, and Prodigal of Vows; Which still to serve his Ends he duly broke With the same ease which they first were took. By these Fair Means all Rivals he displaced, And gained himself the General's Staff at last. But now his Greatness to that pitch was grown He thought no Power superior to his own. No more the Senate curbed his haughty Mind, His Will got lose, would be no more confined. HE had exercised the General's Power before, And should the Office now admit no more 'Twere not Addition to his former Store. So he presumed the Senate's Rights t' invade, To heal the Breaches by their Factions made: And purged the Army as the ready'st way, Cashiering all that clogged his Lawless Sway. Next a New Set of Adjutators packed, To make his private Gild the Army's Act; A Military Senate Modelled now, T' affront, and keep the Civil Tyrants low. But false Antander these so acted still, By unseen Springs they meet the General's Will. Antander near allied to him by Wife, But nearer by the Foulness of his Life. So Conversant in Deepest Villainies He seemed the Transcript of Agathocles. With him Base Cerdo, and Dull Zythus joined. The Brewer's Zeal, & Cobbler's Brain combined. And more beneath the Cognisance of Fame, Whom 'twould debauch the vilest Rhimes to name. Mean Slaves, by Fortune raised of very Sport, The future Minions of a Potter's Court! To these, convened on every slight Disgust, When e'er the House crossed his Aspiring Lust, The Crocodile could weep, and call it Breach of Trust. Now on a Solemn Day the Council met, The Wise Assembly were all Gravely sat, When nettled by the late Disbanding Vote The Cous'ner sighing spoke.— I grieve, Dear Partners of your General's Fame, Who share his Praise, and Suffer in his Shame; I grieve that all the vast expense of Blood, The noble Scars bought for your Country's Good, The brave Neglect, of Friends, Preferment, ' State, And all that's Dear, deserves so hard a fate; That Liberty, for which so long you have fought, Is still Unpurchased, though so dearly Bought. Ye must have heard; yes, the whole Nation cries To You for Vengeance on Neapolis; Ye must have heard what Havoc they have made, Abused their Power, and their Trust betrayed. Even now resolved; Oh! my Disorders well Speak the loud Wrongs my Tongue is loath to tell! Resolved to tear the Wreaths that crown your Brow, To crop your spreading Laurels they grow; Tho now they sit beneath that Sacred Shade Secure from Lightning, which they well might dread. Some, by a specious Name, they would release, Condemned to soften in Inglorious Ease; The rest, as Aids, must for Sardinia sail, Where no One needs for lost Arrears rebel; Cold, Want, the dangerous Bogs, and Savage Foe, Will pay the Debt we all to Nature ow. And is it so those Monsters would requite The Gallant Men, who in their Quarrel fight? Have they so soon forgot the Northern Moor, And You, who could that desp'erate Field restore? Forgot those Swords that durst ill Fate oppose, And forced her back on your amazed Foes? Then they could own the Glorious Happy Day Due to your Conduct, and well-timed Delay. Have they forgot Messana, Gela Fights, Where you supported their declining Rights? In those Disputes what valiant Numbers bled, What Crowds of Captives were in Triumph led! Mistaken, Honest Men! whose greatest Crime Was thwarting our Hard Masters e'er the time. Ungrateful Masters! who for private ends Discard the best of Servants, best of Friends. Have they forgot the numerous Trophies placed, The Noisy Hall with Flags, and Standards graced? Long may those Standards flourish in that Hall, And plead your Wrongs, and loud for Justice call! What, do they see, with shame, your Glories won, While You so much, They have so little done? Or would their Coward and Malicious spite Bar us the no great Privilege, to Fight? Or do they so your services regard, They Hate that Worth, which they could ne'er Reward? Poor Men! our Fruitful Hydra-Ills increase, For One Head lost, an Hundred in the Place! When will they learn to limit their Command, Cease to enslave, and grieve th' Entrusted Land? But since so bold their Insolence is grown, 'Tis time, at last, to let you know your Own. Forgive me, that, so long, I did conceal Th' Important Truth, which you would use so well! Their endless Quarrels, and Inveterate Hate Have torn, and broken the Sicilian State. The Power so oft Transfused, such Change has known, The Life, and Spirits are exhaled, and flown; And 'twould become your great Reforming Name To bless the Nation with an Happier Frame. From things thus shattered, and to Chaos hurled 'Tis Godlike to inform a Beauteous World. When some rich Vessel by long Tempests tossed Upon your Shoar, at last, is split, and lost, 'Tis all men's Right, and worth their Noble Pains, To build a New One from the sad Remains. Add; that, if Right be e'er to Conquest due, The Right of Rule is now devolved on you. And by that Right they in the House are placed, (They were till they destroyed that Right at last,) From Kings their Ancient Charter is derived, Who by that Title governed while they lived. So then; or they by Usurpation reign, And 'tis but Just to take your Own again; Or You have equal Title to the Sway, Who found your Power on the same Base as They. Now let them urge, I meanly seek my own, I place all Legal Power in You alone. And Heaven has left it in your Sacred Breast To keep it in yourselves, where duly placed, Or by Free Choice your Substitute t' invest. I must confess my Sense to this inclined, (Wrist not the Freedom of an Honest Mind,) Enjoy yourselves the Sweets of your Estate, But choose a Steward for the painful Weight. My Weakness bids th' unequal Load decline, Alas, you want far abler Heads than mine! To such, most freely, I resign their due, May I enjoy an Easy'r Share with you! Beside, the Senate tell ye, I've betrayed The Weighty Trust they on these Shoulders laid; Ungrateful as they are! Yet let them know 'Tis not to Them I stoop, but bow to you. I dare the Harmless Lightning of their Frown, Yet to just Right can lay my Office down. But still must fear, One Wretches single fate Will scarce the Malice of their Rage abate, You too they justly fear, and therefore Hate; You too 've wronged.— Then spoke in Tears the rest To show Their Wrongs sat nearest to his Breast. And now, the Rout let in, the Cries increase, Freedom, the Army and Agathocles! But be Unmoved, like a Staunch Hypocrite, Divests himself of Gene'ral in their sight, Mean Trick the Melting Rabble to trepan! To move their Pity for so Good a Man. This false Antander found, and took the Cue, Well skilled what Harms the least Delays ensue; And thus replies.— And who for Power more fit, Then He, who would the well-weighed Burden quit? Raw Sailors New Discove'rys hunt with joy, While ablest Pilots eat the hard Employ. 'Tis past belief He can the Trust abuse, Who bravely dares the tempting Bait refuse. Who grasps at Greatness for ambitious ends, Must Parties Form, and make Seditious Friends. Will He misuse Your Power, who gave his own? So unconcerned, so readily laid down! Methinks, I hear his troubled Soldiers call, Antander, speak, entreat the General: Tell him, He must not, shall not thus be lost, Freedom were dearly bought, at so much Cost. Tell him, his Army settled in their Choice, Claim their Protector, with a general voice. They claim you, Sir; their Safety and Delight, Their Own Agathocles, their Dearest Right, With whom they Suffer, and for whom they Fight. To show their Right, and take yourself away, In the worst Sense, Your Army you betray. What ready'r Way could the Cursed Senate choose, To their Revenge our hated Lives t' expose? Oh, do not You, like them, Your Soldiers wrong, Invading what to Us does most belong! He said; And now again, with doubled Noise, They call for their Protector and their Choice. Mere Machines'! yet the Movement hide so well, They seem to act from a Free Principle: But the Mechanic Power, by which they move, Itself is guided by some Hand above. E'er this the Senate these Commotions hears, Ill News has Wings, and Gild is all o'er Ears. But Fear conforms their Counsels to the times, Unable to correct, they soothe his Crimes. A Legate, at this Instant, brought their voice, To back, with Their Consent, the Army's Choice. At the glad News the Soldiers tear the Skies, With Joys unbridled, and Exalted Cries. But their Protector did expect no less, He long foresaw such petty Shifts as these. Yet loath so fair Advantage to refuse, To please the Army, and the House t' amuse, In perjured Words, He forms his Answer thus. Witness, Ye Gods, with what Regrett I take The noble Weight, too heavy for this Back! So prosper me, as I would much prefer Th' unenvied Safety of a Private Share! Whom Heaven prefers, with Liberty to bless So Good a People, with so good Success; How ill must He all meaner Hopes regard, That Glorious Action is it's own Reward! But since unworthy of the hoped Release, To you I sacrifice my Thoughts of Ease. Yet, One Condition let my Weakness make, May Envy ne'er my Just Designs mistake; (The noblest Actions, and the clearest Heart, Like strongest Towns, still have their weaker Part;) May false Surmises ne'er a Mind torment, So nice of Fame, so honest in Intent! I must confess, unwonted Means were used, But our Disorders all Delays refused, And th' Issue has, at least, the Means excused. Our Hot Distempers called for present Cure, Unfit a tedious Course of Physic to endure. This only way to Public Peace we saw, And General Benefit is standing Law. Indebted to the Army for their Choice, Confirmed in Office by the Senate's Voice. By both Elect, to both obliged I stand, And both shall reap their Hopes in my Command. My Care shall so the senate's Fears remove, As shall preserve the Army's constant Love; My Faith the Army's Griefs shall so redress, The Senate ne'er shall find their Power less. Thus, in dark Terms, the false Dissembler spoke, And, with a general shout th' Assembly broke. Now, fearless with the, lately, frightful Load, His swift Ambition rather flew, then road; Unlooked for to th' amazed House he came, The last Completion of their Vote to claim. His wanton Ears, cloyed with the Soldiers Cries, Hunt fresh Variety of popular Noise. All things for his Instalment are prepared, The Scarlet Senate to the Russet Guard. On every Face some marks of Joy remain, Such as Men show, who would disguise their Pain. The Tumult, Noise, and Charges of the Day; Were fatal Omens of his future Sway. But the mixed Pomp in order to produce, Would fret the Patience of a City Muse. Let it suffice; to Ceres' Fane he came, And touched the Lighted Tapers Holy Flame; Then, by th' Eternal Gods devoutly Swore, That Law, and Right should moderate his Power. But Vows, and Oaths have still too weak been found, No Tyrant by those Fetters e'er was bound; They hold the Madman till his Fits begin, But break when the Fierce Daemon raves within. Had his proud Soul the Public Good designed, Or would just Bounds of Power have pleased his Mind; What fairer season could his wish befriend Just Power to gain, the Nation's Griefs to end? His generous Care the Banished Heir had found, The I'll with Peace, his Prince with Right had crowned. But our Protectour's Temper differed quite, Can ne'er restrain his Vicious Appetite. The basest Means his impious Malice chose, Kings, in their very Memory, to depose. By Edict pulls their Gelon's Statues down, With all the Sacred Ensigns of the Crown; That, Former Liberty removed from sight, The People might endure his Lawless might. The Senate too might now his Meaning guess, Who never well could find their Power Less! Justly Dissolved, yet not for hate to Ill, But pure Design to show his boundless Will. The Senate gone, the Army feels his Pride, Their Adjutators must be laid aside, The Senate's Power extinct, their Fate employed. These Rival Evils were removed alone To clear the way for worse compact in One. Once more the wearied Nation hoped for rest, And seeming Joy at the new Change expressed; Not that they liked his Usurpations well, But Change of Evil, is some ease in Hell. As Men, when Fevers in the blood increase, Each minute try short intervals of Ease, But still the liquid Fires which feed their Pain A Vast Expense of Spirits must maintain; So their long Heats some little Respite had, (Enough to make the quick Return more sad!) But still they felt th' Unsatiable Disease, Kept low by Ravenous Agathocles. By Monthly Subsidies he drained their Store, And, for the Public Safety, kept them Poor. Rewarding so their faithless Temper well, Whom Wealth, and Ease still fitted to rebel. Of every turn of Things such use he made, As showed him perfect Master of his Trade. Witness, the Plots which he so well contrived, They always threatened, but they never trived. These by such wondrous Providence he knew, The Heavens seemed t' have nothing else to do. Or that their Jove, grown infamous and Poor, Were setting up for a Discoverer. And 'twas observed, only the Brave, and Great, Conspicuous for Virtue, and Estate, Did Imagine the Protectour's Fate. Yet by these Means a fair Pretence he got To keep his Army up to awe the Plot. Armies, and Guards such frightful Things appear, No Plot can e'er succeed for very Fear! And when such Service in a State they have done, 'Twere mere Ingratitude to put them down! Had all his Plots made this their only aim, To levy Taxes in the Army's Name, And with the Coin to keep that Bugg in play, They might have born his Arbitrary Sway. But his Designs at nobler Quarry fly, Our Lives, and Fortunes are a Tyrant's Prey. By Friend's Pretended, but unmanly Spies, He moves the Exiles to combine, and rise. That, with some show of Justice, he might take Their ample Fortunes as a Forfeit Stake. Justice, thus wronged, went mourning o'er the Land, Her Hands polluted, and her Garments stained, And saw, with grief, the truly Good, or Great, Exposed to Death, as dangerous to the State. Oh, had his Fury always been so Kind! Death is the Centre of a Noble Mind! Heroic Worth can Death embrace with Joy, To such, 'tis harder much to serve, than Die. This truth, too well, the Cursed Usurper knew, And striving, in One Act, Himself t' outdo, (My Muse for horror of the Monstrous Deed, Starts back, and trembles, and can scarce proceed!) A Numerous Train, robbed of their Right, and Lands, He sells, (Just Gods!) he sells to serve on Foreign Sands! Free Subjects all, the Old Sicilian Race, Contemning Life, Impatient of Disgrace! His Gild, long since, no Elder-Rivals knew, But this has foiled all future Tyrants too. This Masterpeice, which drained the Widows eyes, And filled the Air with helpless Orphans Cries. Cursed Man! thy Fears allow such Arms as these, Thy Cruel Sense such Combinations please! Yet know, those Sighs are treasured in the Skies, To fall in Tempests on thy Perjuries. Thus his aspiring Baseness treads on all, The Great regards not, but contemns the Small. Like some great Deluge by just Heaven designed To visit the Offences of Mankind; It's boundless Fury sweeps the Cotts away, And makes the Proudest Palaces a prey; Yet some, untainted with the Common Crimes, By special Grace, escape till better Times. So here some Few avoid his Bloody'r Rage, Saved to repair the Ruins of the Age. But of the Brave Unfortunates was none Whose glorious Sufferings Philocles out-shone. His Courage, as his Sufferings Nobly Great, Accused not fate, nor tamely could submit. He heard his Mother for her Burden groan, Concerned more at her Wrongs, then for his Own; And came from Exile in a low Disguise To head his Master's Friends prepared to rise. But Fortune oft the juster Cause forsakes, Oft the best Tempered, Wisest Counsels breaks! Yet Heaven was pleased Its Power to interpose, T' elude the Watchful Malice of his Foes. Heaven saw how much the Next Relapsing Age Would want his Faith, his Wisdom would engage, How much Sardinia, Twice his Weighty Care, To her Loved Praefect's Honour should refer; And this foreseeing, only stopped his Fame, To paid with Interest to his Greater Name. With him Eudoxus justly claims a place, Eudoxus formed to bless the Land in Peace. From wrongful Wars, with his Great Prince, he went, In Foreign Courts enjoying banishment; By Converse, and Experience there, refined His Polite Knowledge, and Discerning Mind. Prepared, when God e'er long restores his Cause, With Equity to Mitigate the Laws. Which in their Intruse Meaning are Severe, And without such a Guide too often Err. Oh Wonder of the Court! Oh glory of the Gown! Thy Mighty Worth has Others Fame out-flown, In Godlike Sons, thou hast excelled thy Own! On Them thy mounting Soul has left behind A Double Portion of their Father's Mind, His Truth, his Prudence, and (his Glorious Fate) Their Prince's Friendship, and the Rabble's Hate. Here, Muse, return; Thou hast too loosely fled, Unwarily, by virtue's Splendour, led To leave thy Theme so excellently Bad! Or was't the Hideous Rapine of the Times, The frightful Shapes of Decimation Crimes? Invain the Country Want of Stock complain, The City plead Decay of Trade invain; Where e'er the Dreaded Civil Plund'rers come, An Helpless Waste is left, a mournful Home. To Heaven, his daring Sacrilegious Spite, It's Ancient Offering, and Unquestioned Right, The Tithe denied; yet the fleeced Land must pay Heaven's Deuce Usurped by this base Idol Day. Scarce one Remove from their first Nature Clod, Each Dirty Tyrant would be thought a God: And Gods they are; as Men in former days To Plague, and Theft did Servile Altars raise. In his best Actions Zealously Profane, Thus all Religions flourished in his Reign. A vast increase of Gods came daily up, Egypt ne'er knew a more Prodigious Cropp; Tho, every Year, her fruitful Waters rise To satisfy her Godly Avarice. Some New Grimace, or Foolish Differing Lie, Was Title to this Mock- Theogony; Yet none were entered gratis on the Line, But bought a Mercenary Right Divine. So Heralds with some slight Difference trepan The buying Fop, and dubb a Gentleman. But Upstart Gods do always dangerous prove, Still found th' Established Worship to remove. In Syracuse an Ancient Fabric stood, At home much honoured, much adored abroad, An August Pile, itself almost a God, To Great Diana built;— Agathocles deemed nought but Gold Divine, And spoiled the Goddess of her Silver Shrine. HE had robbed her of her Annual Rents before, Uncased, and stripped her like a Common Whore. And while she wandered from her Rightful home Would, Providently, sell the Useless Dome; As if it had been one of his Suburb Stews, Would prostitute it to so vile an Use As to become a Synagogue for Jews. Cursed may'st thou stand, with that Bold Wretch, in Fame, Who in her Ashes wrote his hated Name! And may this Difference signalise thy Crimes, While Story bears his Gild to future times, Untouched by Time, may the Sicilian Fane Collat'ral Witness to thy shame remain! Thus having past the ancient Bounds of Vice, And Fame insured, by New Discoveries, Uncloyed, unwearyed yet with doing Ill, Left of temptation, more than wanting Will, He forms himself by studied Arts to please, Affecting to appear designed for Peace. Kind Words, Obliging Smiles, and Gracious Bows, 'Slight Favours are, He every where bestows, Like Money to the Crowd in Public Shows. He hates th' Impertinence, and Forms of State, (The Little Vanitys which make Men Great!) Yet loves the Nation should proclaim that Hate. But striving still to make his Virtues known, Argues the Jewels False, or not his Own. Tyrants with Royal Virtues strive to shine, As Devils imitate the Power Divine; While those Fictitious Attributes alone Betray their false Pretensions to a Throne. For Clemency, they make their Greatness Cheap, And just Neglect by nauseous Follies reap. For graceful Freedom, they Buffoon'ry choose, And graciously vouchsafe themselves t' expose. Thus Ours frequenting the dull City Feasts, With Buffoon Tricks tickled the Heavy Guests. But though these mean Disguises gained his Ends Upon the Rout, they lost his Private Friends. For Few to that Indifference arrive, Made Public Laughter, that they can forgive; And Men with less Reluctancy commit The Foulest Crime, than they can hear of it; But nothing galls a Guilty Conscience more, Then Lashes from that Fiend, which caused the Sore. This made some Braves, abused in Public Feasts, And touched too roughly by his Rustic Jests, Too openly those Injuries resent, Avowing, to their Cost, their Discontent. But Maenon unconcerned submits to all, And smiles to see the Angry Wretches fall. His Faithful Wife had made the Tyrant Sport, And him the Table Jest of Town, and Court; And in the Camp his Interest grew so great, It might in time give the Proctectorate. Ambition, and Revenge, his Rage withhold, Vices too dear, for Railing, to be sold. Yet though to view he carries Things so fair, His swelling Heart does Mortal Poison bear; And, he has ordered his Designs so well, The Tyrant now, too late, the fatal Draught may feel. Thro all the Town the hasty Secret flies, In Whispers told, and heard without Replies; As if men feared some new Design behind, Some yet Unfathomed Tyrannies to find; But when so fast successive Tidings flew, As made 'em credit their long Wishes true; Not Seas got lose with greater Fury roar, Which bearing down the Banks, regain their Shoar; Then o'er the Town spread the Tumult'ous noise Of Crowds expressing their unruly Joys. One never liked the Man, was ne'er his Friend, Another long foresaw his Tragic End. Some insolently triumph in his Fall, And others trace out Providence in all. The Country, whom portentous Tokens fright, Each Minute flock to tell some Dismal sight, Aetna on all sides liquid Sulphur throws, Which o'er the Meads in flaming Rivers flows; Or neib'ring Lawns in dire Convulsions lie, As Nature's self were at the point to die. But, a much fiercer Aetna feeds his Pains, And boiling Poisons travel thro' his Veins; More pungent Pangs convulse his stubborn Heart, And, minutely, he slowly Dies in every part. Huge, Monstrous Whales forsake the troubled Sea, Which gape like Hell, and seem t' expect their Prey; And dreadful Tempests hollow in the Air, To waft him to the stormy Regions of Despair. But those loud Storms can never be expressed, Those Hurricanes which toss his troubled Breast; And Loathsome Monsters no resemblance find With those foul Shapes of Crimes which haunt his Mind. Such Wrecks, such Anguish Soul, and Body feel. He seems the sad Epitome of Hell. His Lusts and Passions still more vigorous grow, And wanting vent, prey on their Master now, So tightly fierce, he suffers more, Then all the Slaves they Sacrificed before. Mean while such slow Assaults the Poisons make, As if they would the tedious Siege forsake; Or that they meant to kill the Wretch by parts, Returning on himself his Barbarous Arts. At last, by Friends forsaken, cursed by Foes, Tired out of Life by cruel Lingering Woes. Hardened, and Mad, and Cursing as he fell, He dies not, but removes t' another Hell. Senseless, and Cold the Mighty Carcase lies, Which was e'er long so Busy, and so Wise. And all his awful Presence, all his Pride Must into Loathing, and Corruption slide. No more his treacherous Arts beguile the Throng, No more false Tears befriend his wily Tongue. One little Daught has gained the Nation more, Then all her Wealth, than all her Power before. One little Draught has quenched that Thirst of Rule, Which all her Blood, or Tears could never cool. So from their Height may all Bold Wretches fall, Unpityed, and Insulted o'er by all, Who with false Shows the easy Rout betray, To make their fenceless Properties a Prey; Who of its Sacred Jewels spoil a Crown, To deck Usurped Mock-Grandeur of their own! So may they fall, o'ertaken by their Crimes, And their sad End affright succeeding Times! Thus Maenon, who had winked at the Reproach Successfully Revenged his Wife's Debauch; Had not Ambition here put in a Claim. The Common Good had found a nobler Name. But Vulgar Spirits no Restraint admit, They urge Ambition, if Success invite. So He, whose Soul in some base Mould was made, His Pow'rith ' Army, more than Virtue, weighed; And, while Confusions kept the City weak, Resolved, by Force, the Tyrant's Room to take. But as, oft times, when gathering Tempests rise Unite their Clouds, and darken all the Skies; Some small Bright Tract, which on th' Horizon's side Unheeded lay, and almost Unespyed, Recovers the Lost Glory of the Day, And seems to drive the scattered Host away; So, though his Motions bear a dreadful Form, Threatening a Second, more Destructive Storm, Yet from the North a Glorious Chief appears, To scatter his Designs, and drive away their Fears. The Brave Nicoetas has achieved his Fall, And draws the Eyes, and fills the Mouths of all. Himself Fame's Business and Delight alone; virtue's Darling; Honour's Mightiest Son. Bold, Prudent, Just, Successful without Pride, Loved of his Own, Praised by the Adverse side. In Victory so Good, so True t' his Word, His Mercy held a Contest with his Sword. He saw the People's Raging Calenture, And Humoured the Disease into a Cure; He saw of Civil Broils the hideous Scars, And put a Stop to more unnatural Wars. Ah, Wondrous Man! What Crowns belong to Thee, Who from Herself settest a Mad Nation Free, And gainest o'er War a Bloodless Victory! Nothing could add to Thy sublime Renown, But daring to refuse a proffered Crown: And He, who durst attempt that generous Flight, To make Success submit to Exiled Right, Seems only Less, because at Greater Height. On this Blessed Theme my Muse would ever dwell Inspired by Worth she must delight to tell. But whoso Hiero to his Throne would bring, In the same Verse Nicaetas' Praise must sing. And, Lo! at last, the Goodly Prince is come, In Triumph too, to Bless his Native Home. Hiero of all Mankind, Beloved, and Blessed, Of all Mankind the Lovly'st, and the Best. Who from Great Hiero brings his Title down, Heir to his Name, his Virtues, and his Crown; Whose Right so long his Wilful Sinning Land In Exile saw, yet would not Understand; Whom, all his Years of Trouble and Distress, The World abroad ne'er Thought, or Honoured less; For, though False Stones require a friendly Light, The Royal Diamond shines no less by Night. He comes, like the Great Indian God of old, With Awful Beauty Graceful to behold. Like Him reducing Humane Savages. A nobler way, reducing them by Peace. Like Him too may he live, for ever Young Beauty's Desire, and Wit's Eternal Song! He comes, what yet is to be held most Dear, As best befits Great Hiero's Greater Heir. Mild, Gracious, Good, with Pardon in his hand, His Mercy shaming even th' Offending Land; Embracing Wretches no Man durst propose, Preventing even Repentance in his Foes. He comes, and from all Coasts glad Throngs resort, (The Northern Castle, and the Western Port) As if the Nation had combined to meet, And with one Breath their Welcome Monarch greet; Or their United Duty that way strove To make return for Universal Love. The Household Gods with Holy Wreaths are crowned The Streets with Hieroglyphic Pomps abound; All Things assumed Unusu'al Bravery wear, And in the Triumph bear a willing Share. Nor can that Joy the People's Tongues express Proceed but from a Sense of Happiness; Their Eyes, and Hands, and every Speaking Part, Proclaim alike the Language of their Heart. Where e'er, in all his long Triumphant way, Himself the Brightest Glory of the Day, The Mighty Prince with graceful Motion rides, His heavenly Form into their Fancies glides, Shedding a gentle Influence all around, And Darting Charms which all beholder's wound. The Virgins blushing look their Hearts away; Insensibly the Matron's Wishes stray. The Aged Heads, joyed at the Happy Sight, In Tears express their Wonder, and Delight; From their Own Years the Loyal Youth would take, And to his Life a ready Offering make. Oh, may thy Golden Years, Great Hiero flow, Like Wealthy'st Rivers, Undisturbed and slow; And every Day a Restauration prove, A Conquest o'er their Hearts, a Triumph in their Love! May Peace, which went, and with Thee came again, And all her lovely Sons adorn thy Reign! May Wealth sail in with every joyful Tide, And, as just Tribute, all the World beside To Thee transmit her Luxury, and Pride! May Learning raise its long neglected Head, May Wit in all it's Ancient Glory spread, Learning, and Wit, like Loyal Plants, shall thrive, Which only in the Royal Sunshine live! Tho Priests resume their Old Blasphemous Cant, Asperse the King, and Curse the Government: Tho Patriots talk of Jealousies, and Fears, And Arbitrary Counsels fill all ears; (If such Impostures can again take place From Rebels sinning 'gainst the Highest Grace!) Yet may the Gods that loved Sicilia best, That gave her Hiero, and that gave her Rest, May they outwatch the Malice of his Foes, May they, in time, avert Her Threatening Woes! And Thou, Dear Land! for whose Loved Sake alone A Pit'ing Muse has made her Weakness known, With just Regard her wholesome Words attend, And weigh the Last Best Counsel of a Friend. Return, return e'er thou repent'st too late, Heaven again has signed thy Woeful Fate; A Worse Agathocles may be behind, But Heaven can ne'er so good an Hiero find. FINIS.