The Second Dream.  

WHoever looks about, and minds things well,  
And on th' Affairs o'th' World does take a View,  
May think the Story which I here do tell,  
Was never dreamt, 'cause it falls out so true.  
I do confess 'tis somewhat hard to find  
A crooked Path directly in the dark:  
And when a Man's asleep you know he's blind,  
And cannot easily hit upon a Mark.  
No, not so blind, but Story oft has told  
Of Sleep so Eagle-eyed, and Dreams so bold  
As could the hidden Depths of Fate unfold:  
oraculous Dreams that oped the Book of Doom,  
And saw at once past, present, and to come.   

As t' other Night in Bed I thinking lay,  
How I my Rent should to my Landlord pay.  
Since Wool, nor Corn, nor Beasts would Money make,  
Tumbling perplexed, these thoughts kept me awake.  
What will become of this mad World, thought I!  
Whence the Disease, and what the Remedy?  
When will the Issue, whereto does it tend?  
In Mis'ry 'tis some Ease to know its end.  
Till Servants Dreaming as they used to do,  
Snored me asleep; I fell a Dreaming too.  
So Dreamt— not Antic Forms, wild and unshaped,  
From restless indigested Fumes escaped;  
When aching Brains their Wine-born Frenzies broach  
The Riotous Creations of Debauch.  
Nor did my bounded Fancy only lead  
That narrow Dance that shallower Dreamers tread,  
Who in their Nightly Forms repeat no more  
Than what they only saw the day before.  
No, for my Nobler more exalted Flight,  
A loftier Wing, and a more soaring Spirit  
Rapt me aloft; whilst my swift Thought up rears,  
Born hurried back o'er fifteen rolling Years.  
Dully those poor  Vision play,  
Who only see no farther than to day.  
To Day; a Day, alas, too dull a Theme,  
Where blazing Mischief's seen by that broad beam,  
The Business of to Day's not worth a Dream.  
For too sad Truths so plain need no beholding  
To Dreamers or Soothsayers for unfolding.  
At open Noon to view the Banks of Seas  
Broke down, who stands amazed at Deluges.  
Right, Justice, Law, all Faith and Oaths laid by,  
Who wonders at our later Slavery:  
Where that professed avenging thunderer Reigned,  
His Cyclops at the Forge, with Sweat and Pains,  
All bare faced at the Work of hamm'ring Chains.  
Fate strikes without Surprise, whose Bolt we see.  
Nay sweeping Plagues themselves would scarely be  
A mortal Wonderment; were but the keen  
Sword Edge of the Destroying Angel seen.  
T' explode the open Madness of this Age,  
Is scarcely worthy a Poetic Rage.  
Let Fools the fullgrown Cockatrice admire!  
My Speculative Thoughts more high aspire:  
Would tract the Seeds, and new formed Egg Survey,  
And search the very Nest in which it lay.  
Th' unseen First Machine of our Ills unmasking,  
I, that's a curious Question worth the ask:   

Thus murmuring long before to sleep I went,  
Some Friendly Power a listening Ear had lent;  
And by a kind illuminating Beam,  
Resolved to grant my Wishes in a Dream.   

Back then to Charles his Reign my Thoughts were led.  
How, back to Charles to trace the Fountain Head!  
The unhappy Source of our long Ills began  
Under that Easie, Calm, Unthinking Man!  
Yes, poor Good Charles, hard fated to our Curse,  
First licked the Brat, lest James to Rear and Nurse.   

Methought th' Old Great Cabal in number Seven,  
Together met to make their Matters even;  
Where closely they Consulted how to play,  
And each one spoke what he was pleased to say.  
But first the Doors were all securely shut,  
And I behind the Arras closely put;  
Where hear and see I could: but he that there  
Had placed me, bade me have a special care  
Of stirring, for my Life; and ere that out  
From thence I came, resolved should be my doubt,  
What would become of this mad World; unless  
Present Designs were crossed with ill Success.  
An awful Silence there was kept some space,  
Till trembling thus began one called his Grace.   Bucks.] 
Dread Sir, your Government the first Twelve Years  
Has spoiled your Monarchy, and made our Fears  
So great, and many, we must now change quite  
The fretful old Foundations, wrong or right.  
The too great mixture of Democracy  
Out of your Government must taken be.  
And no way like to Nulling Parliaments;  
Spawn of the People, always making Rents,  
Factious and bold, disputing Royal Pleasure;  
And your Commands they by their Humours measure.  
A King in Manacles, to Rack Staves tied  
You must remain, if thus you will abide.  
So spoke this first, but by and by another,  
Not quite so tall, but full as Wise a Brother,  [Ormond] 
Did thus begin— Dread Sir, you now are on  
A Tender Point, much to be thought upon;  
And thought on only: For by ancient Law  
'Tis Death to speak't; which that rash Lord foresaw,  
And trembled as he spoke. But, Sir, believe,  
My safe Advice, I dare undaunted give.  
Oh think not, Sir, t' attempt a Change so bold,  
Nor let the Thought be even in Whispers told,  
'Gainst what our Ancestors secured so much,  
That like the Sacred Mount 'tis Death to touch.  
Such Dangerous Councils give my Soul a check;  
Nor do I like to make Tongue break my Neck.  [Laverd] 

Thus he, and then that Lord of Northern Tone  
In Gall and Guile a second unto none,  
Enraged rose, and Cholerich thus begun.   

Dread Majesty, Male born of Fame, the Son  
Of Hundred and Ten Monarches of the North,  
Deel split the Wem o'th' Loon that spoke before:  
Shame faw the Crag of that mis-mannored Lord,  
That near his King durst speak so faw a word.  
And on my Sol full well the first man meant,  
Deel lop his Lugs that loves a Parliament.  
Twa Houses on my Sol are twa too much,  
Death! Ice ne'er truck to those faes Kna aves in pickle.  
No siler get to give the Bonny Lass!  
Who can endure thus to be made an Ass?  
Ten thousand Plagues light on his Sol that 'gin.  
To gar you be but third part of a King.  
Deel taken my Solemnising, I'll ne'er the matter mince:  
Ice rather Subject be than like a Prince.  
To hang and draw, and burn; and saw, and kill.  
And measure all things by my awn great Will.  
What's Kingship else; all Checkmates I do hate  
Of Men or Laws; it looks too like a State.  
This eager well-meant Zeal some Laughter stirred.   [Arling.] 

Till now half-fish, half-flesh, the Ink-horn Lord  
Craved Audience. Thus Grave, Majesty Divine,  
To make you Great, let Gods and Men Combine.  
Now we are entered on the great Debate  
That does concern the Throne and Royal State,  
Contrive to make you High and Happy too,  
Is all that we at present have to do.  
Is it not strange that at this Sacred Board  
There still should sit a Magna Charta Lord?  
A piece of old Rebellious Barons Breed,  
The worst and greatest Foes of Royal Seed.  
But to proceed, it was well urged by's Grace,  
Such Liberty was had for Twelve Years space  
Last passed, that now there's great Necessity  
Of new Foundations if you safe will be.  
What Care, what Charge, what Art (before was set  
This Parliament) we used, you can't forget  
How forced to Court, Cajole, and Bribe for fear  
They wrong should Act, e'er since they have been here  
What Diligence, what Studies Day and Night  
Were we put on! What care to keep 'em right!  
If therefore you can't make this Parliament  
Do right, on whom such Art and Pains was spent;  
Since Money's all we have for them to do:  
If we miss that, let's e'en dismiss them too.  
'Tis true, this is the Best that you can call:  
But in my Judgement Best is none at all.   

Well moved, the whole Cabal cried, Parliaments  
Are Clogs to Princes, and their brave Intents.  
One did Object, 'Twas against Majesty,  
To beg the People's Pleasure Another he  
The Inconven'nce argued, and that we  
Must close and speedy in our Actions be:  
Or else we fail in all our brave Design,  
This Senate House Foundation t' undermine.  
But this confused Chat did order break;  
Many were moved, none heard, but all did speak.   [Chan.] 
At length a long Robbed Lord, Champion of State,  
The Crown's too faithful Drudge, to such a height,  
Raised only to be crushed by his own Weight,  
Begs silence, and his Counsel thus began,  
Whilst in this Style his artful Accents ran.  
Best, and blessed Monarch, that e'er Sceptre bore,  
Renowned for Honour, but for Virtue more.  
The Lord that last did speak has wisely shown,  
That Parliaments, nor new, nor old, or none  
Ought to be trusted longer. Let them down,  
A Constitution raised t' eclipse the Crown.  
Imperial Power by Vassals so controlled,  
A suffering Loyalist must with Grief behold.  
That Monarchy may from its Childhood grow  
To Man's Estate, France does th' Example show.  
Monarchy is Divine, and Text-Men say,  
He backwards goes, that keeps not on his way.  
Therefore go on, let other Kingdoms see  
Your Will's your Law, as Monarch's ought to be  
Away with all these Saucy meddling Chits,  
That make you King but now and then by fits.  
Nay, in those fits too, they will stand and pause,  
And boldly tell you, Kings must stoop to Laws.  
Thus you may see what Factious Fools would have,  
A King, and yet a Subject! This is brave.  
Fie, fie, let's down with all such Nonsense now,  
And make these Insolents to their Monarch bow.  
A hotchpotch Mixture we'll no longer bear,  
Caesar or Nothing. Now you need not sear.  
If you'll but strike now whilst the Iron's hot,  
There's no withstanding of our Princely Plot.  
Strike then, Great Sir,  these Debates take Wind,  
Remember still Occasion's bald behind.  
The Game is sure in this, if wisely played,  
And Sacred Votes to th' Vulgar not betrayed.  
But if this Rumour once should get on Wing,  
That we consult to make you Absolute King,  
The Plebeian Heads and Gentry too forsooth  
Would Snort and Spurn, and have an aching Tooth.  
Left they therefore should this great Secret scent,  
And contradict us in this high Intent,  
I think it safer and far better Skill  
To obviate, than to overcome an iii.  
For those that head the Herd are full as rude,  
When th' Humour takes, as all the Multitude.  
Wherefore be quick in your Resolves, and when  
You have resolved, be quick in Action then.  
Remember your great Father lost the Game  
By slow Procedure. Do not you the same.  
One unsuspected unregarded Blow  
Wounds more than Ten made by an open Foe.  
Delays breed Dangers: Sir, the Sword is yours▪  
By Law declared, what need you other Powers?  
We may in Politics be Judged, or worse,  
If we can't make the Sword Command the Purse:  
No Art your Government so well can shape  
Without a Force, it must be done by Rape:  
And when 'tis done, to say we cannot help,  
Will satisfy enough the gentle Whelp.  
Fanatic, they'll to Providence impute  
Their Thraldom, and immediately grow mute.  
For they poor Pious Fools think the Decree  
Of Heaven is on them, tho' from Hell it be.  
They must be silent under every stroke,  
And readily submit to any Yoke.  
Thus vainly glorying in a passive Shame,  
They'll put off Man to meet a Christian Name.  
Therefore to lull 'em, do their Hopes fulfil,  
With Liberty, they're haltered at your Will.  
Give them but Conventicle Room, and they  
Wilt let you steal their Englishman away;  
And heedless be till you your Nets have spread,  
And pulled down Conventicles o'er their Head.  
Militia then and Parliaments Cashier,  
And with all speed a Standing Army rear,  
To mount you up; and up you soon will be,  
Those that want Love, will fear your Monarchy.  
And if they fear, no matter for their hate,  
To Rule by Law becomes a Sneaking State.  
Lay by all Fear, nor care what people say,  
For that will all your brave design betray.  
When by't they can't, what hurt will Barking do!  
And in short time we'll spoil their Barking too.  
Make Coffee Clubs, talk of more humble things,  
Than such Affairs as do belong to Kings.  
Thus spoke the hot spurred Peer. Than one more grave  
That had much less of Fool, but more of Knave,  
Began—  [Cliff.] 
Great Sir; it gives me great Content,  
To see such Zeal for you with one consent.  
But yet, though I'm an Enemy no less  
To Parliaments than they, myself confess,  
I must for all that enter my Protest  
Against these Rambling Councils undigest,  
And tell you, Sir, it is a harder thing  
Than they Suggest to make you such a King  
As what they talk, and I could wish you were;  
The Method they propose, will cost you dear.  
Old Buildings to pluck down, believe it true,  
More danger has in't, than in Building New.  
Or what shall raise your Supe structure, till  
Another you have built to suit your Will?  
An Army shall, they say. Content: but stay,  
From whence shall this New Army have its pay?  
Easie and gentle Government a while,  
Will surely be the best way to beguile  
The People's Minds, and make them cry up You  
For this or that, or any thing you do.  
The Taxes of New Government all will blame,  
And put the Kingdom straight into a Flame.  
For Tyranny has no such lovely look  
To take Men by, unless you hid the Hook;  
And no Bait better hides than present Ease;  
Ease but their Taxes, then do what you please.  
Therefore these wild Debates lay by: From whence  
Shall Money rise to pay this vast Expense!  
There's only one thing if you will but do,  
Will gain your Will, and hush your People too.  
Strike in with Mother Church, whose Bosom stands  
' to receive you, stretching forth her hands.  
Close but this Breach, and you will quickly see  
Her Purse as open, as her Arms shall be.  
For, Sacred Sir, by guess I do not speak;  
Of Poor she'll make you Rich, and Strong of Weak.  
At home, abroad, no Money, nor no Men  
She'll let you lack, turn but to her again.  
You may depend, Sir, upon what I say;  
What e'er is talked on, here's your only way.  
How can you fail of Honour and Success,  
When you grow Richer, and Your Taxes less.  
Thus by this Wile you may advance your Crown,  
And when you're up, you may pull others down  [Laud.] 
The Scot here could no longer hold, but cried,  
Deel Curse the Pope, and all that's on his side.  
The Whore of Rome, the muckle Man of Sin,  
Plague take the Mother, Barns, and all the Kin.  
What, must we see the Paltry, hallow Rood  
Placed in the Kirk again in Deelish Mood!  
Plague take the Loon, the Deel and all his Work,  
The Pope shall ne'er again come in the Kirk.  
Deel fau my Lugs, I'll venture Weem and Crag,  
 Popish Imps o'er Christian Men shall brag.  
The Scot with Laughter Checked, and all agreed,  
The Lord spoke last, should in his Speech proceed,  [Cliff.] 
Which thus he did. Great Sir, the Seasons now  
Wherein we may both drive and draw the Blow.  
The best that ever came t' advance your Cause,  
To mend or make, or to demolish Laws.  
Besides the Sum, the Catholics will advance,  
You know what offers you are made by France.  
And to have Money, and no Parliaments,  
Will fully answer all our brave Intents.  
And thus without Tumultish Brute, or Huff  
Of Parliaments, you will have Gold enough.  
And if neglected now, as none knows when  
The like Advantage you will have again,  
T' extirpate Civil and Religious Right,  
Those Lime-twigs of the Laws that hold your flight.  
There's Money to be had t' Exalt your Crown,  
‛ thou't stooping Majesty to th' Country Clown.  
The Triple League I know will be objected,  
As if by us that ought to be respected.  
For who to Covenants so poorly sticks,  
With Rebels to keep Faith or Heretics,  
With those that neither Church nor Prince affect;  
Our own Advantage we must still respect.  
Unfettered Monarches should walk more at large,  
The Church does Princes from such Oaths discharge:  
And Kings Absolved have power to leave ot take,  
And keep no more than does for Interest make.  
As you yourself have admirably shown  
By burning Solemn Covenants, tho' your own.  
Faith, Justice, Truth, Plebeian Virtues be:  
Look well in them, but not in Majesty.  
For, public Faith is but a public Thief,  
The greatest Cheat, and yields the worst Relief.  [Orm.] 

The Second Lord, tho' Checked, yet did not fear  
Impatient grew, and could no longer bear.  
Great Majesty, Authentic Writers say,  
The hand when lifted up Croesus to slay,  
Such deep Impressions on the Son did make,  
Though dumb before, yet than he forthwith spoke.  
Great Sir, your pardon, if in imitation,  
Seeing the danger of yourself and Nation,  
My resolved Silence too like him I break,  
In spite of Frowns, I shall, and I must speak.  
Under what ever doom my boldness fall,  
Though Fortune, Honour, Life, exposed to all  
The hardest Censures, and it may be worse  
My Prince's Hatred, and the Papal Curse:  
Yet still for Princes Good I will not fear,  
To speak my Conscience, tho' it cost me dear.  
My Acts have spoke sufficient, still they are  
Above what these Dictator's did or dare.  
Wherefore, Great Sir, 'tis Ignorance or Hate,  
That gives those Counsels so precipitate.  
For say't I will, nor will I bate my word,  
No Counsels, Power, no, nor yet the Sword,  
Can old Foundations alter, or lay new,  
Let time interpret who has spoken true.  
The Country Gentlemen with Beef and Bacon,  
Will show how much your Courtiers are mistaken.  
For Parliaments are not at that cheap rate,  
That down they will without a broken Pate:  
And then I doubt you'll find these Worthy Lords,  
Brave and more Champion with their Tongues than Swords.  
Wherefore incline not, Sir, your Royal Ear  
To their Advice, but safer Counsel hear.  
Stay till these Lords have each a Crown to lose,  
And then consult with 'em which way they'll choose.  
Will you All hazard for their Humours sake,  
Who nothing have to lose, nothing at stake!  
And at that Game your Royal Crown expose,  
To gratify the foolish Lust of those  
Who hardly have subsistence how to live,  
But what your Crown and Grace to 'em will give.  
For one of those Bag-pudding Gentlemen  
(Except their places) would buy nine or ten.  
And why we should thus slight the Gentleman,  
I see no Reason, nor believe they can.  
For had not Gentleman done more than Lord,  
I'll boldly say't; you ne'er bade been restored.  
But why an Army's Greatness, Sir! should we  
So fond just now: all on a sudden be.  
Have they such faithful Guardians been to Powers  
That have employed them, that you'd make 'em yours?  
Our Age does tell, we need not seek the Glory  
Of Army's Faith in old and doubtful Story.  
Your Father 'gainst the Scots an Army reared,  
But soon that Army more than Scots he seared  
And tho' in haste to raise 'em, as we are,  
Soon to Disband them was his greatest care.  
How Scottish Army after did betray  
His Trust and Person both, I need not say.  
The Lord Protector they set up one hour,  
The next they plucked down Protectorean Power.  
Your Father's Block was guarded by those Drudges,  
Who after did the same thing for his Judges;  
And did rejoice at both in open view,  
And would not grudge to do the like by you.  
Will you then suffer Armies to beguile,  
And give your Crown and Self to Cross and Pile?  
What if a Jesuit Swear, Lie, and Feign,  
Until your Trust and Army he should gain:  
And you believe his Faith and Oaths are true,  
He serves himself instead of serving you.  
Remember, Sir, what to your Face is said;  
No Faith from them to Heretics is paid.  
This is enough to make your Soul abhor them,  
And stop each Mouth for ever speaking for 'em.  
When their own turns are served, they'll serve you a trick,  
And in short time call you plain Heretic.  
If Pope command, and you shall once say nay,  
At this Trap-door your Strength shall run away.  
He'll make you stoop and truckle at his pleasure,  
Or else yond neither shall have Men or Treasure.  
'Tis vain to trust to either Word or Oath;  
They plainly tell you they can violate both.  
The more of Friendship they pretend or Swear,  
The more of Mischief you have cause to fear.  
When once the Pope has got the upperhand,  
Against your Will you soon shall understand,  
That if you cross him in the smallest thing,  
Unwelcome Storms about your Ears he'll bring.  
The Interest then of Holy Mother Church,  
Will be to leave all such as you i'th' lurch:  
And all your former faithful Friends being down,  
'Tis ten to one if you don't lose your Crown.  
Pardon, Great Sir, if Zeal transport my Tongue,  
To show you what may prove your greatest wrong.  
I can't expose your Crown and Sacred Throat  
To th' fickle Humours of a false red Coat.  
But speak I must, whatever does ensue,  
To hinder what we else may live to rue.  
The Law your All does fence, secure from Fear;  
And then what need the noise of Bandileer.  
Consider, Sir, 'tis Law that makes you King:  
But Sword another to the Crown may bring.  
For Force knows no distinction: Longest Sword  
Makes Peasant Prince, and Lackey above Lord.  
If Will be all that we must take for Laws,  
Your Will may be inferior to Jack Straws.  
If he a greater Force, he has more Right:  
Where Law is wanting, if for Will Men Fight,  
He's the best Man whose Sword is still more strong:  
Where there's no Law, there's neither Right nor Wrong.  
Subjects may Prince, as Prince may them Invade;  
The Fence once broken, all is open laid.  
See then, Great Sir, how these your Throne pull down,  
' Stead of exalting your Imperial Crown;  
How they divest you of your Majesty:  
For Law destroyed, you are no more than we.  
In vain will be the Plea of Birth or Crown,  
Or Statute Laws, if Parliaments go down.  
This Peer went on, and showed at large most plain,  
How dangerous League with Rome would be again.  
And how we suffered France to gain Renown,  
And steal away the Glory of our Crown.   

He's interupted, and bid speak no more,  
By enraged Majesty, who deeply Swore  
His Tongue had so run o'er, that he would take  
Such Vengeance on him, and Example make  
To after Ages, all that heard should fear  
To speak what should displease the Royal Ear.  
In that unwonted Thunderclap he broke,  
I scarce could fancy it was Charles that spoke.  
Methought, and 'twas a Thought of strange Presage,  
Charles uttered, but Great James inspired the Rage.  
The more Imperial Ducal Fury blowed,  
And tuned the Royal Organ Pipe so loud.   

The Lord that spoke before 's bid to go on,  
And all commanded Silence till he has done.  
Who thus proceeded—  
If the Lord spoke last,  
To interrupt me had not made such haste,  
I soon had done, for I was come, Great Sir,  
T' Advise your sending Dutch Ambassador  
To keep them still a while, altho' we Flatter,  
Promise, Caress, Cajole, Betray, no matter.  
Tho' we break Faith, Leagues, Treaties, all t' advance  
Your dearer sworn Fidelity to France.  
And when all's done that can be done by Man,  
Much must be left to Chance do what we can.  
If you of Dutch can make an utter end,  
And make the Catholic Christian World your Friend,  
Then sure you'll have enough of Men and Treasure,  
Enough of both to execute your pleasure.  
And tho' that Noble Lord seems to persuade  
Confiding Armies are not to be had:  
True, tho' perhaps the English Heretics  
In such a Cause may play some slippery Tricks,  
And join not hearty in your Holy League;  
Raise then your Irish Friends: The Trusty Teague  
To Rome's dear Pipe will most devoutly Dance,  
And then what strength they want your Cause t' advance,  
Send o'er, and borrow all the rest from France.  
This Project does the Feat: You need no more.  
Steer by this Chart, and Land on th' Golden Shore.  
And tho' perhaps your Glass Life may run  
Too fast, to see this blessed Work all done.  
Tho' kind Heaven lengthen out your happy Days,  
And Crown you late with the Immortal Bays;  
A Crown should be so much a good King's Care,  
As study t' entail Blessings on his Heir.  
And what though possibly you may not raise  
The Fabric up entire in your own Days:  
Make the Foundation, and the Wall's but yours:  
Leave James to build the Battlements and Towers.  
James, whose each Word the Credulous World shall Trust,  
Proud of the Name, though not the Thought of Just.   

This Speech thus ended, Six of Seven agree,  
France should be loved, and Holland hated be.  
At last I waked, and took a serious View  
Of long revolving Causes, Old and New;  
And by their whole successive Chain I knew  
My Dream told Truth; our present Ills a' course  
Took from this Fountain their original Source.  
'Twas Charles begun the Clue that James has spun:  
The fatal Measures have our World undone.  
And if Cabals thus serve us Englishmen,  
'Tis ten to one but we shall Dream again.  
And being disturbed in Sleep our Brains will ache,  
And make us Peevish when we are awake.   
FINIS.