The Waking VISION; or REALITY in a Fancy.  

AS I was walking, reading in a Book,  
Of all the Plots that Rome had undertaken,  
Methought I heard a sudden murmuring Rout,  
And curious to behold: I faced about,  
When soon the Crowd did to my fight appear,  
With a young Hero stalking in the Rear.  
Their Leader was an Old man, known too well  
By that false Traitorous name Achitophel:  
He faced about, and waving round his Wand,  
The cringeing Rout stood still upon command.  
Lieutenant Absalon forsook the Rear,  
And strutting forward, did i'th' Front appear.  
Thus sixth in their Array, the first that broke  
The silence, was Achitophel; who spoke  
With roaring voice, and visage most austere,  
When to his Echo all the Rout gave ear;  
All big with expectations, till the bold  
Snakelike Achitophel his story told.   

I need not tell you of the case betwixt ye,  
If you remember Forty eight, and Sixty:  
How happy were we in the first of those,  
When no man durst our Laws or Wills oppose;  
Wills as obliging as the Persian Laws,  
We fought and prospered in the Good Old Cause:  
None durst oppose our Faction, or appear  
In vindication of a Cavalier.  
Then all our Party in one humour stood,  
To bleed the Nation, tap the Royal Blood.  
Till envious Death at last did basely trip  
Old Nol up, with his short Protectorship.  
Then turned the Game, and Monk began to sing  
In Loyal Tone, Now Boys a King, a King!  
Against our wills he did by force restore  
The King, to that which was his Right before;  
Then all those plaguy Rogues called Cavaliers,  
Began to peep abroad, and shake their Ears;  
Each one expecting from the King to be  
Rewarded for his Truth, and Loyalty.  
When thus we saw our Plots go down the wind,  
We changed our Note, and spoke in other kind;  
And made the World believe 'twas only We  
Restored the King to Crown and Dignity:  
When if we could but still have been obeyed,  
No Stuart e'er had England's Sceptre swayed.  
But since what's done, cant be undone again,  
Why stand we idle gazing here in vain?  
Let's try our wits, and Plot for to obtain  
And play the Old Game over once again:  
Do as our Fathers did, come play your parts,  
And let the people know you're English hearts,  
That are not given to change.—  
Eighty one offers us a mark as fair,  
As ever Forty did: come— strike— prepare,  
Take Oaths of Secrecy, and Covenant  
To ease the Nation of her groans and want.  
Right and Religion, Liberties and Laws,  
Will make the Rout quickly espouse our Cause:  
Tell 'em, if they don't stir they're quite undone,  
Religion's, ruin'd, Liberties are gone:  
Persuade 'em that the Pope, and Popish Train,  
Are just returning to the Land again:  
That's a pretence ne'er fails, but always takes,  
And of a Bad Old Cause, a Good one makes.  
Now, now's the time; strike up, for if you miss,  
You'll never meet a time so pat as this.  
Here's Popish Plots does; covered and found out,  
With Fears and Jealousies to charm the Rout;  
And soon persuade them all their Lives are lost,  
That they must burn like Martyrs at a Post,  
Unless they get the Popish Party quelled,  
That is by Evil Counsellors upheld:  
Here's Grievance upon Grievance: these are Knaves,  
And those would make the Freeborn Subject's Slaves:  
Tell them the King's a Tyrant, and Oppressor,  
And that we have a damned Popish Successor:  
The Parliament's dissolved, and we must be  
Governed by Arbitrary Tyranny:  
But yet be sure to keep you in the shade,  
And do whate'er you do in Masquerade.  
If any Senator against you s; it,  
Be sure to call him Papist, Jesuit,  
Mac-Tory, Protestant in Masquerade,  
That would your Liberties and Rights invade:  
Now one word more, and I have spoke enough,  
Go fall to work, for I have found you stuff.   

Which having spoke, the Rout was jogging home,  
But soon returned at voice of Absalon;  
Who with audacious tone cried, Hark, my Friends,  
Come side with me, if you'll attain your ends;  
Achitophel shall change and take the Rear,  
And I myself will in the Front appear,  
And good old David soon shall know that I  
Will be his Heir, or else I'll bravely die.  
What though my Mother was his Concubine?  
The fault was hers, I'm sure, it was not mine:  
I am his Son, and from his Loins did spring;  
I am of Royal Blood, and will be King:  
Do you but help me to obtain the Crown,  
I'll rule by Law, and all your Foes put down;  
I'll part the King and Council quite asunder,  
And will redress the Griefs you labour under;  
If once I can but to the Throne attain,  
I'll grant New Charters, and the Old maintain.  
At which the Rout with hallows filled the Skies,  
And cried, We'll venture all for Liberties:  
When suddenly the Rout did disappear,  
And all the Coast was in an instant clear.   

Then I began to think which was the worse,  
Fanatic blessing, or a Popish curse:  
I put them in two Scales to try their weight,  
And found the Balance equiponderate;  
But holding them a while, I quickly found  
As this was hoist up, that kissed the ground:  
Then suddenly I found the meaning out,  
This ruins quickly, but that round about:  
Then to my mind my thoughts began to sing,  
Go haste and what thou'st heard inform the King:  
I durst not go, but presently I wrote,  
And sealed it up, and sent the King this Note.   

To the KING.  

DRead Sir, if you will Rule this Land in peace,  
Expel your Foes, and Friends will soon increase:  
Your Ruin does, Sir, too too plain appear,  
Rome leads the Van, Geneva brings the Rear.  
If you'll be safe, you must expel them both,  
The Roman Gnat, and the dissenting Moth:  
And vigorously let them understand,  
You are their King, and will like King command.  
And if you ere expect to gain your Ends,  
As well as open Foes, take heed of Friends;  
I mean a flattering Friend, whose only show  
Makes him a Friend, but really is not so.  
Learn by your Father, not to trust to those  
That in the end will prove confiding Foes.  
Consider on't, you're in a woeful strait,  
Think but on Forty one, and Forty eight.  
I only speak this for a Precedent,  
For Heaven I hope will all such things prevent.  
You're now the Darling of all Loyal hearts,  
And may be still, if you will take their parts:  
But if you bear with Faction, or with Rome,  
And do delay to give them both their doom,  
All Loyal men must suffer by those two,  
And be in spite of Fate undone with You.  
You must be sure to ruin Both, or none;  
If one remain, you're sure to be undone:  
For if you ruin Rome on equal scores,  
You shut the Window, but leave open the Doors;  
Unless you ruin the fanatics too,  
For know one Nation can't hold Them and You.  
Those men I fear against your Life combine,  
That strive to cross you in your Good design;  
And those men sure would yield to put you down,  
That tell the People, You are not their own.  
Pardon me, Sir, if I your quiet break,  
For Poets dare at all Adventures speak.    
FINIS.   

LONDON: Printed by N. T. 1681.