THE MAID'S TRAGEDY ALTERED. With some other PIECES. By EDMUND WALLER, Esq Not before Printed in the several Editions of his POEMS. LONDON, Printed for Jacob Tonson, at the Judge's Head in Chancery Lane, near Fleetstreet. 1690. MOST of the following Pieces, being unfinished, were never intended to be published; but that a Person, who had borrowed a Manuscript Copy of them, took upon him to print them. The Copy from which they were printed, was very Imperfect; and there being no means left to suppress them, it was thought fit to suffer them to be more correctly printed from the last and truest Copies. THE MAID'S TRAGEDY, ALTERED BY Mr. WALLER. PROLOGUE. SCarce should we have the boldness to pretend So long renowned a Tragedy to mend: Had not already some deserved your praise With like attempt. Of all our elder Plays, This and Philaster have the loudest fame: Great are their Faults, and glorious is their Flame. In both our English Genius is expressed; Lofty and bold, but negligently, dressed. Above our Neighbours our Conceptions are: But faultless Writing is th' effect of Care. Our Lines reformed, and not composed in haste; Polished like Marble, would like Marble last. But as the present, so the last Age writ; In both we find like negligence and wit. Were we but less indulgent to our faults, And patience had to cultivate our thoughts: Our Muse would flourish, and a nobler rage Would honour this, than did the Grecian Stage. Thus says our Author, not content to see That Others write as carelessly as Herald Tho he pretends not to make things complete; Yet to please You, he'd have the Poet's sweat. In this old Play, what's new we have expressed In rhyming Verse, distinguished from the rest: That, as the Rouen its hasty way does make, Not mingling Waters, thro' Geneva's Lake: So having here the differeut styles in view, You may compare the former with the new. If we less rudely shall the Knot untie, Soften the rigour of the Tragedy: And yet preserve each person's character: Then to the Other, This you may prefer. 'Tis left to you: the Boxes and the Pit, Are sovereign Judges of this sort of Wit. In other things the knowing Artist may Judge better than the people: but a Play, Made for delight, and for no other use, If you approve it not, has no excuse. Enter Evadne, with a Page of Honour. Evad. A Mintor lost, it were as vain a thing, As 'tis prodigious, to destroy the King. Compelled by Threats, to take that bloody Oath, And the Act ill, I am absolved by both. This Island left with pity I'll look down On the King's Love, and fierce Melantius' frown. These will to both my resolution bring: Page, give Melantius that, this to the King. Exit Page with the Letters Under how hard a fate are Women born! Prized to their ruin, or exposed to scorn! If we want Beauty, we of Love despair; And are besieged like Frontier Towns, if fair. The power of Prince's Armies overthrows: What can our Sex against such force oppose? Love and Ambition have an equal share In their vast Treasures; and it costs as dear To ruin us, as Nations to subdue: But we are faulty, though all this be true. For Towns are starved, or battered ere they yield; But We persuaded rather than compelled: For things superfluous neglect our Fame, And weakly render up ourselves to shame. Oh! that I had my Innocence again, My untouched Honour: but I wish in vain. The Fleece, that has been by the Dyer stained, Never again its native whiteness gained. Th' unblemished may pretend to virtue's Crown: 'Tis Beauty now must perfect my renown. With that I governed him that Rules this Isle; 'Tis that which makes me triumph in Spoil, The Wealth I bear from this exhausted Court, Which here my Bark stands ready to transport. In narrow Rhodes I'll be no longer pent; But act my part upon the Continent: Asiatick Kings shall see my Beauty's Prize, My shining Jewels, and my brighter Eyes. Princes that fly, their Sceptres left behind, Contempt or Pity, where they travel, find: The Ensigns of our Power about we bear; And every Land pays Tribute to the Fair. So shines the Sun, though hence removed, as clear When his Beams warm th' Antipodes, as here. Exit. Enter Melantius, with a Letter in his hand. She's gone to perish, if the Gods be just; The Sea's not vast enough to quench her Lust. The standing Regiments, the Fort, the Town, All but this wicked Sister is our own. Oh! that I could but have suprized the Wretch, ere she that Watery Element did reach. Twice false Evadne; spitefully forsworn, That fatal Beast like this I would have torn. Tears the Paper with fury. But this design admits of no delay; And our Revenge must sinned some speedy way. I'll sound Lucippus, he has always paid Respect to my deserts: could he be made To join with us, we might preserve the State; And take revenge, without our Countries fate. He loves his Brother; but a present Crown Cannot but tempt a Prince so near the Throne. He's full of Honour: though he like it not, If once he swear, he'll not reveal the Plot. Exit. Enters the King alone. King. Melantius' false! it cannot be: and yet, When I remember how I merit it, He is presented to my guilty mind Less to his Duty, than Revenge inclined. 'Tis not my nature to suspect my friends, Or think they can have black malicious ends: 'Tis doing wrong creates such doubts as these, Renders us jealous, and destroys our peace. Happy the Innocent, whose equal thoughts Are free from anguish, as they are from faults. Enter a Page with a Letter. Page. 'Tis from Evadne, Sir. Exit. King. Why should she use Her Pen to me? 'tis some important news! Reads the Letter. From aboard my Yacht. [Strangely dated.] WHich is now bearing me away from the rage of my offended Brothers: I wish you were as safe from their Revenge. They aim at your Life, and made me swear to take it. They have got the Fort, and are assured of the Inclinations, both of the Soldiers and Citizens. My first Prayer is to the Gods, for your Preservation: my next to your Majesty, that if they return to their Duty, you would afford them your Grace. 'Tis no feigned tale Calianax has told; The Great Melantius is as false as bold. The Crown we hazard, when at home we stay, And teach our forces others to obey. Conduct of Armies is a Prince's Art: And when a Subject acts that Royal Part; As he in Glory rises we grow less: While our Arms prosper, ruined by success. For in a Court what can so dreadful be, As one more glorious than ourselves to see! Enter Melantius and Lucippus. Such is the General: to Lucippus' Ear, What 'tis he trusts, I'll step aside and hear. Lucipp. How am I caught with an unwary Oath, Not to reveal the secret, which I loath! To stain my Conscience with my Brother's blood, To be a King! No, not to be a God. He that with patience can such Treason hear, Tho he consent not, has a Guilty Ear. Unto thyself pronounce the name of King; That word will keep thee from so foul a thing. [late, Mel. Sir, your fond care and kindness comes too To save your Brother, or prevent my hate: The People mutiny, the Fort is mine, And all the Soldiers to my will incline. Of his own Servants he has lost the Heart, And in the Court I have the nobler part. Unto yourself pronounce the name of King; That word will tell you 'tis no trivial thing That you are offered: Do not storm and frown At my endeavours to preserve the Crown. Wear it yourself; occasion will not stay; 'tis lost, unless you take it while you may. Tumult and ruin will overwhelm the State; And you'll be guilty of your Country's fate. Luc. aside. Some formed design against the King is laid, Let's try how far our reason may persuade. To him. The Crown you value so, my Brother bears Upon his Head, and with it all the cares; While I enjoy th'advantage of his State, And all the Crown can give, except the weight. Long may he Reign, that is so far above All Vice, all Passion, but excess of Love. And can th'effects of Love appear so strange, That into Beasts our greatest Gods could change? Mel. The deathless Gods, when they commit a Rape, Disguised a while, again resume their Shape: But Princes once turned into Beasts, remain For ever so; and should, like Beasts be slain. Luc. Tho more in years, you have a Mistress still; And for that fault would you your Sovereign kill? Love is the frailty of Heroic minds; And where great Virtues are, our pardon finds. Brutes may be chaste; Pigeons, Swans and Doves, Are more confined, than we are, in their Loves. Justice and Bounty, in a Prince, are things That Subjects make as happy as their Kings. Will you contract the guilt of Royal Blood? And rob your Country of her chiefest good? Mel. Of one, whose Lust his Family has stained, By whose good Conduct he securely reigned. Luc. Of one, whose choice first made your Valour known, And with whose Armies you have got renown. 'Tis all the gratitude Subjects can show, To bear with Patience what their Princes do. Mel. Yet Brutus did not let proud Tarquin scape. Luc. The Prince his Son was guilty of a Rape. For Joys extorted with a violent hand, Revenge is just, and may with honour stand. But should a Prince, because he does comply With one, that's fair and not unwilling, die? Or is it fit the people should be taught Your Sister's frailty, with my Brother's fault? Mel. Let her be known unchaste; so it be said, That he that durst persuade her to't is dead. Luc. The King has wronged you: Is it just that you Mischief to me and the whole Nation do? Mel. Rather than not accomplish my Revenge, Just, or unjust, I would the World unhinge. Luc. Yet of all Virtues, Justice is the best: Valour, without it, is a common Pest. Pirates and Thiefs, too oft with Courage graced, Show us how ill that Virtue may be placed. 'Tis our complexion makes us chaste or brave; Justice from Reason, and from Heaven we have. All other Virtues dwell but in the blood, That in the Soul, and gives the name of good. Justice, the Queen of Virtues, you despise, And only rude and savage Valour prize. To your revenge you think the King and all That Sacred is, a Sacrifice should fall: The Town be ruined, and this Isle laid waste, Only because your Sister is not chaste. Can you expect, that she should be so sage To rule her blood, and you not rule your rage? Both foul distempers are; but yours the worse, Less pleasure has, and brings the greater curse. Mel. In idle Rhodes Philosophers are bred, And you, young Prince, are in their Morals read. Nor is it hard for one that feels no wrong, For patient duty to employ his Tongue. Oppression makes men mad, and from their breast, All reason does, and sense of duty wrest. The Gods are safe, when under wrongs we groan, Only because we cannot reach their Throne. Shall Princes then, that are but Gods of clay, Think they may safely with our honour play? Reward a Soldiers Merit with a stain To his whole Race, and yet securely Reign? Farewell! I know so brave a Prince will scorn To tell the secret, unto which he's sworn. Luc. aside. I promised Secrecy, but did not say I would look tamely on. Melantius' stay: You have my Promise, and my hasty word Restrains my Tongue, but ties not up my Sword. Of other Virtues though you are bereft By your wild rage, I know your Valour's left. Swear not to touch my Brother, or with speed Behind the Castlewall let's meet. Mel. Agreed. Exit Lucip. Mel. His well-known Virtue, and his constant Love, To his bad Brother may the people move: I'll take the occasion, which he gives, to bring Him to his Death, and then destroy the King. [Ex. Mel. Enter the King as discovering himself. King. O! what an happiness it is to find A friend of our own blood, a Brother kind! A Prince so good, so just, so void of fear, Is of more value than the Crown I wear. The Kingdom offered if he would engage, He has refused with a becoming rage. For such a Brother, to th'immortal God More thanks I owe, then for the Crown of Rhodes. Happy this Isle, with such a Hero blessed! What Virtue dwells not in his Loyal Breast? Enter Strato. Str. Sir we are lost, Melantius has the Fort, And the Town rises to assault the Court: Where they will find the strongest part their own: If you'll preserve yourself, you must be gone. I have a Garden opens to the Sea, From whence I can your Majesty convey To some near friend. King. There with your Shallop stay. The Game's not lost; I have one Card to play. Suffer not Diphilus to leave the Court, But bid him presently to me resort. [Exit Strato. Had not this Challenge stopped the impendent fate, We must have perished with the ruined State. Forts, Soldiers, Citizens, of all bereavest, There's nothing but our private Valour left: If he survive, I have not long to Reign; But he that's injured, should be fairly slain. The people for their Darling would repine; If he should fall by any hand, but mine. Less wise than valiant, the vain man is gone To fight a Duel, when his work was done. Should I command my Guards to find him, where He meets my Brother, and destroy him there: All hope of Peace would be for ever lost; And the wild Rabble would adore his Ghost. Dead, than alive, he would do greater harm, And the whole Island, to revenge him, arm. So popular, so mighty have I made This fighting man, while I lived in the Shade. But 'twas a double fault, to raise him so; And then dishonour on his house to throw. Ill governed passions in a Prince's Breast, Hazard his private, and the public rest. Slaves to our Passions we become, and then It grows impossible to govern Men. But Errors not to be recalled, do find Their best redress from presence of the mind. Courage our greatest failings does supply, And makes all good, or handsomely we die. Life is a thing of common use, by Heaven As well to Infects as to Princes given. But, for the Crown, 'tis a more sacred thing: I'll dying lose it, or I'll live a King. Enter Diphilus. Come, Diphilus, we must together walk, And of a matter of importance talk. Diph. aside. What fate is this! had he stayed half an hour, The rising Town had freed me from his Power. Exeunt. Scene changes into a Field: Into which enter Lucippus and Melantius, with Sword's drawin. Mel. Be yet advised, th'injurious King forsake; Death, or a Sceptre from Melantius take. Lucip. Be thou advised, thy black design forsake; Death, or this Counsel from Lucippus take. Mel. Youth and vain confidence thy life betray: Thro' Armies this has made Melantius way. Lucip. Drawn for your Prince that Sworn could wonders do; The better 'cause makes mine the sharper now. Thy brutal anger does the Gods defy; King are their care: resume thy Loyalty: Or from thy guilty Head I'll pluck the Bays, And all thy Triumphs shall become my praise. Mel. That shall be quickly tried. Enter the King with Diphilus. King. With Sword in hand, Like a good Brother, by your Brother stand. Diph. Glad that your pleasure lies this noble way; I never did more willingly obey. King. Thy Life, Melantius, I am come to take, Of which foul Treason does a forfeit make. To do Thee honour, I will shed that blood, Which the just Laws, if I were faultless, should. Mel. 'Tis bravely urged, Sir; but, their Guards away, Kings have but small advantage of the Law. King. Having infringed the Law, I wave my right As King, and thus submit myself to fight. Why did not you your own fierce hand employ, As I do mine, and tell the reason why? A Subject should be heard before he's slain? And does less right belong to us that Reign? Mel. If, as unjust, I could have thought you brave, This way I chosen had Revenge to have. A way so noble; that I must confess, Already I begin to hate you less. So unexpected and so brave a thing, Makes me rember that you are my King. And I could rather be contented, since He challenged first, to combat with that Prince. That so, a Brother for a Sister changed, We may be of your wanton Pride revenged. King. 'Twas I that wronged you, you my Life have sought; No Duel ever was more justly fought. We both have reason for our fatal wrath: Nor is it fit the World should hold us both. Lucippus to the King apart. Me for what nobler use can you reserve, Than thus the Crown from danger to preserve? Members expose themselves, to save the Head: This way he shall be satisfied, or dead. Melantius to his Brother apart. Tho foul Injustice Majesty did stain, This noble carriage makes it bright again. When Kings with Courage act, sometthing divine That calls for Reverence, does about them shine. Diph. Were we born Princes, we could not expect, For an affront received, greater respect. They that with sharpest Injuries are stung, If fairly fought withal, forget the wrong. A thousand pities, such a Royal pair Should run this hazard for a wanton fair. Mel. Let us sight so, as to avoid th' extreme Either of fearing, or of killing them. Lucippus apart to his Brother. Sir, you should wield a Sceptre, not a Sword; Nor with your Weapon kill, but with your Word. The Gods by others execute their will. K. Yet Heaven does oft with its own Thunder kill: And when Necessity and Right command, A Sword is Thunder in a Sovereign's hand. Let us dispatch, lest any find us here, Before we fight; or they grow less severe. Here they all Fight. Lucippus to the King. Hold Sir, they only guard, and still give place To them. Fight us, as Enemies, or ask for Grace. Mel. I never thought I could expedient see, On this side death, to right our Family. The Royal Sword thus drawn, has cured a wound For which no other Salve could have been found. Your Brothers now in Arms ourselves we boast, As satisfaction for a Sister lost. The blood of Kings exposed, washes a stain Cleaner, than thousands of the Vulgar slain. You have our pardon, Sir; and humbly now, As Subjects ought, we beg the same of you. Here they both kneel. Pardon our guilty Rage; which here takes end, For a lost Sister, and a ruined Friend. Luc. Let your great heart a gracious motion feel: Is't not enough, you see Melantius kneel? I'll be a pledge for both; they shall be true As heretofore; and you shall trust 'em too. His Loyal Arm shall still support the State, And you no more provoke so just an hate. King. Rise, brave Melantius, I thy pardon sign, With as much Joy, as I am proud of mine. Rise, Valiant Diphilus, I hope you'll both Forget my fault, as I shall your just wrath. Diph. Valour revealed in Princes does redeem Their greatest faults, and crowns them with esteem, Use us with Honour, and we are your Slaves, To bleed for you, when least occasion craves. King. With Honour and with Trust this Land shall know, After my Brother, none so great as you. Enter the King's Guards. Mel. If these approach us, Sir, by your command; Take back your Pardon, on our guard we stand. The King steps between 'em. King. What over-diligence has brought you here? Captain of the Guards. Such as you'll pardon when the News you hear Amintor is retired, Aspasia gone; And a strange humour does possess the Town. They arm apace, Sir, and aloud declare Things which we dare not whisper in your Ear. The Council met, your Guards to find you sent, And know your pleasure in this Exigent. This honoured person you might justly fear, Were he not Loyal, and amongst us here. They say his merit's ill returned, and cry, With great Melantius they will live and die. Mel. Sir, not your Power, but Virtue made me bow; For all he tells you, I did kneeling know. Tho now the faithfullest of your Subjects, we Have been the cause of all this Mutiny. Go comfort, Sir, Amintor, while we run To stop the rage of this revolting Town; And let them know the happiness they have In such a Royal pair, so just, so brave. Lend me your Guards, that if persuasion fail, Force may against the Mutinous prevail. K. to the Guards. Go, and obey, with as exact a care, All his commands, as if ourselves were there. Aside. He that depends upon another, must Oblige his Honour with a boundless trust. Exeunt King and Lucippus. Mel. How frail is Man! how quickly changed are Our wrath and fury to a Loyal care! This drawn but now against my Sovereign's Breast, Before 'tis sheathed, shall give him peace and rest. Exeunt Brothers and Guards. The Scene changes into a Forest. Enter Aspasia. Asp. They say, wild Beasts inhabit here; But Grief and Wrong secures my Fear. Compared to him that does refuse, A Tyger's kind, for he pursues. To be forsaken's worse than torn; And Death a lesser ill than Scorn. No Forest, Cave, or Savage Den Holds more pernicious Beasts than Men. Vows, Oaths, and Contracts they devise, And tell us, they are sacred Ties: And so they are in our esteem; But empty Names, despised by them. Women with studied Arts they vex: Ye Gods destroy that impious Sex. And if there must be some to ' invoke Your Powers, and make your Altar's smoke, Come down yourselves, and in their place Get a more Just and Nobler Race: Such as the Old World did adorn, When Hero's like yourselves were born. But this I wish not for Aspacia's sake; For she no God would for Amintor take. The Heart, which is our Passions Seat, Whether we will or no does beat: And yet we may suppress our Breath: This let's us see that Life and Death Are in our Power; but Love and Hate, Depend not on our Will, but Fate. My Love was Lawful, when 'twas born; Their Marriage makes it merit Scorn. Evadne's Husband 'tis a Fault To Love, a blemish to my thought; Yet twisted with my Life; and I That cannot faultless live, will die. Oh! that some hungry Beast would come, And make himself Aspasia's Tomb. If none accept me for a Prey, Death must be found some other way. In colder Regions Men compose Poison with Art; but here it grows. Not long since; walking in the Field, My Nurse and I, we there beheld A goodly fruit; which tempting me, I would have plucked; but trembling she, Whoever eat those Berries, cried, In less than half an hour died. Some God direct me to that Bough, On which those useful Berries grow! Exit. Enter Amintor alone. Am. Repentance, which became Evadne so, Would no less handsome in Amintor show. She asked me pardon; but Aspasia I, Injured alike, suffer to pine and die. 'Tis said, that she this dangerous Forest haunts, And in sad accents utters her complaints. If over-taken, ere she perish, I Will gain her Pardon, or before her die. Not every Lady does from Virtue fall; Th' Injurious King does not possess them all. Well I deserved Evadne's scorn to prove, That to Ambition sacrificed my Love. Fools that consult their Avarice or Pride! To choose a Wife, Love is our noblest Guide. Exit. Enter Aspasia alone, with a Bough full of fair Berries Asp. This happy Bough shall give relief, Not to my hunger, but my grief. The Birds know how to choose their fare, To peck this fruit they all forbear. Those cheerful Singers know not why They should make any haste to die: And yet they Couple— Can they know What 'tis to Love, and not know Sorrow too? 'Tis Man alone, that willing dyes; Beasts are less Wretched, or less Wise. How Lovely these ill Berries show! And so did false Amintor too. Heaven would ensnare us! who can scape When fatal things have such a shape? Nothing in vain the Gods create, This Bough was made to hasten fate. 'Twas in compassion of our woe, That Nature first made Poisons grow; For hopeless wretches, such as I, Kindly providing means to die. As Mothers do their Children keep, So Nature feeds, and makes us sleep: The indisposed she does invite To go to Bed before 'tis night. Death always is to come, or past: If it be ill, it cannot last. Sure 'tis a thing was never known; For when that's present, we are gone. 'Tis an imaginary Line, Which does our being here confine. Dead we shall be, as when unborn; And then I knew nor Love, nor Scorn. But say we are to live elsewhere, What has the Innocent to fear? Can I be treated worse than here? Justice from hence long since is gone, And reigns where I shall be anon. Enter Amintor. Am. 'Tis she; those fatal Berries show The mischief she's about to do. Women are governed by a stuborn fate: Their Love's insuperable, as their hate. No Merit their Aversion can remove; Nor ill requital can efface their Love. Asp. Like Slaves redeemed, Death sets us free From Passion, and from Injury. The Living chained to Fortune's Wheel, In Triumph led, her changes feel: And Conquerors kept Poisons by, Prepared for her Inconstancy. Bays against Thunder might defend their Brow: But against Love and Fortune here's the Bough. Here she puts some of the Berries to her mouth, Amintor, strikes the Berries out of her hand, and snatches the Bough. Am. Rash Maid, forbear; and lay those Berries by, Or give them him that has deserved to die. Asp. What double Cruelty is this? Would you That made me wretched, keep me always so? Evadne has you: let Aspasia have The common refuge of a quiet grave. If you have kindness left, there see me laid: To bury decently the injured Maid, Is all the favour that you can bestow, Or I receive— Pray render me my Bough. Am. No less than you, was your Amintor wronged: The false Evadne to the King belonged. You had my promise, and my Bed is free; I may be yours, if you can pardon me. Asp. Your Vows to her were in the Temple made; The sacred Altar witnessed what you said. Am. The powers above are to no place consigned, But every where hear promises that bind. The Heaven, the Air, Earth, and the boundless Sea, Make but one Temple for the Deity. That was a Witness to my former Vow: None can Amintor justly claim, but you. Who gives himself away the second time, Creates no title, but commits a Crime. Asp. I could have died but once; but this believed I may (alas!) be more than once deceived. Death was the Port, which I almost did gain, Shall I once more be tossed into the Main? By what new Gods, Amintor, will you swear? Am. By the same Gods, that have been so severe; By the same Gods, the justice of whose Wrath Punished the infraction of my former faith. May every Lady an Evadne prove, That shall divert me from Aspasia's Love. Asp. If ever you should prove unconstant now; I shall remember where those Berries grow. Am. My Love was always constant; but the King, Melantius' friendship, and that fatal thing Ambition, me on proud Evadne threw; And made me cruel to myself, and you. But if you still distrust my faith, I vow Here in your presence I'll devour the Bough. Asp. Snatching the Bough from him. Rash Man, forbear! but for some unbelief, My Joy had been as fatal as my Grief: The sudden news of unexpected bliss, Would yet have made a Tragedy of this. Secure of my Amintor, still I fear Evadne's mighty friend, the King. Am. He's here. Enter the King, and his Brother, to them. King, turning to his Brother. How shall I look upon that noble Youth, So full of Patience, Loyalty, and Truth? The fair Aspasia I have injured too, The guilty author of their double woe. My passions gone, and reason in her Throne, Amazed I see the mischiefs I have done. After a Tempest, when the Winds are laid, The calm Sea wonders at the wrecks it made. Am. Men wronged by Kings impute it to their fate, And Royal kindness never comes too late: So when Heaven frowns, we think our anger vain; Joyful and thankful when it smiles again. Taking Aspasia by the hand. This knot you broke, be pleased again to bind, And we shall both forget you were unkind. King. May you be happy, and your sorrows past, Set off those Joys I wish may ever last. Giving the Letter. Read this Amintor. Am. Evadne fled! Aspasia now You'll have no more occasion for your Bough. Enter a Messenger. Mess. Melantius, Sir, has let the people know How just you are, and how he's graced by you. The Town's appeased, and all the air does ring With repetitions of Long live the King. Luc. Sir, let us to the Sacred Temple go, That you are safe our Joys and Thanks to show. King. Of all we offer to the Powers above, The sweetest Incense is fraternal Love. Like the rich Clouds that rise from melted Gums, It spreads itself, and the whole Isle perfumes. This sacred Union has preserved the State; And from all Tempest shall secure our fate: Like a well twisted Cable, holding fast The anchored Vessel in the loudest Blast. EPILOGUE, Spoken by the King. THE fierce Melantius was content, you see, The King should live; be not more fierce than he. Too long indulgent to so rude a Time; When Love was held so capital a Crime, That a Crowned Head could no compassion find; But died, because the Killer had been kind. Nor is't less strange such mighty Wits as those Should use a Style in Tragedy, like Prose. Well sounding Verse, where Princes tread the Stage, Should speak their Virtue, or describe their rage. By the loud Trumpet, which our Courage aids, We learn that sound, as well as sense, persuades. And Verses are the potent charms we use, Heroic Thoughts and Virtue to infuse. When next we act this Tragedy again, Unless you like the Change, we shall be slain. The innocent Aspasia's Life or Death, Amintor's too, depends upon your breath. Excess of Love was heretofore the cause; Now if we die, 'tis want of your applause. MR. Waller in his first Thoughts of Altering this Play, pitched upon a design of making Evadne go among the Vestals. But considering, that the Persons in this Play are supposed to be Heathens, who never admitted any but pure Virgins among their Vestals; he changed his design. Nevertheless before he did so, he had writ the following Verses. Evadne. A Vestalvowed, with Pity I'll look down On the King's Love, and fierce Melantius' frown. But here's the Sacred place, where we may have Before we die, an honourable Grave. The Dead, and they that live retired here, Obtain like Pardon from the most severe. Knocks at a Door. Enter Governess. Gou. The Great Evadne visiting our Cell! Eu. 'Tis not to visit you; but here to dwell. Can you find room for one so bad as I, That humbly begs she may among you die? Gou. You that so early can correct your Thoughts, May hope for Pardon for your greatest faults. Happy is she that from the World retires, And carries with her what the World admires. Thrice happy she, whose young thought fixed above, While she is Lovely does to Heaven make Love. I need not urge your Promise, ere you find An Entrance here, to leave the World behind. Eu. My guilty Love Devotion shall succeed; Love such as mine was, tho' a dangerous Weed, Shows the rich Soil, on which it grew so high, May yield as fair a Crop of Piety. But of all Passions, I Ambition find Hardest to banish from a Glorious Mind. Yet Heaven our Object made, Ambition may, As well as Love, be turned a Nobler way: Still I ascend; it is a step above A Prince's favour, to belong to Jove. They go in and the Door shuts. Enter Melantius with a Letter. Among the Vestals! she'll corrupt them all, And teach them from their Sacred Vow to fall. POEMS The Triple Combat. WHen thro' the World fair Mazarine had run, Bright as her Fellow-Traveller, the Sun; Hither at length the Roman Eagle flies, As the last Triumph of her conquering Eyes. As Heir to Julius, she may pretend A second time to make this Island bend. But Portsmouth, springing from the ancient race Of, Britain's, which the Saxon here did chase, As they great Caesar did oppose, makes head, And does against this new Invader lead. That goodly Nymph, the taller of the two, Careless and fearless to the Field does go. Becoming blushes on the other wait, And her young look excuses want of height. Beauty gives Courage; for she knows the day Must not be won the Amazonian way. Legions of Cupids to the Battle come, For little Britain these, and those for Rome. Dressed to advantage, this Illustrious Pair Arrived, for Combat in the List appear. What may the fates design! for never yet From distant Regions two such Beauties met: Venus had been an equal friend to both, And Victory to declare herself seems loath. Over the Camp with doubtful Wings she flies; Till Chloris shining in the Field she spies. The lovely Chloris well attended came, A thousand graces waited on the Dame: Her matchless form made all the English glad, And foreign Beauties less assurance had. Yet, like the Three on Ida's Top, they all Pretend alike, contesting for the Ball. Which to determine Love himself declined, Lest the neglected should become less kind. Such killing looks; so thick the Arrows fly; That 'tis unsafe to be a slander by. Poets approaching to describe the sight, Are by their Wounds instructed how to write. They with less hazard, might look on and draw The ruder Combats in Alsatia. And with that Foil of violence and rage Set off the splendour of our Golden Age: Where Love gives Law, Beauty the Sceptre sways; And uncompelled, the happy World obeys. Prologue for the Lady Actors. AMaze us not with that Majestic Frown: But lay aside the greatness of your Crown. And for that Look, which does your people awe, When in your Throne and Robes you give 'em Law; Lay it by here, and use a gentler smile; Such as we see great Joves in Picture, while He listens to Apollo's charming Lyre, Or judges of the Songs he does inspire. Comedians on the Stage show all their skill, And after do as Love and Fortune will. We are less careful, hid in this disguise; In our own Clothes more serious, and more wise. Modest at home, upon the Stage more bold, We seem warm Lovers, tho' our Breasts be cold. A fault committed here deserves no scorn, If we act well the parts to which we're born. To Mr. Killigrew, upon his altering his Play Pandora, from a Tragedy into a Comedy, because not approved on the Stage. SIR, you should rather teach our Age the way Of judging well, than thus have changed your Play. You had obliged us by employing Wit, Not to Reform Pandora, but the Pit. For as the Nightingale, without the Throng Of other Birds, alone attends her Song: While the loud Daw, his Throat displaying, draws The whole assembly of his Fellow-Daws. So must the Writer, whose productions should Take with the Vulgar, be of vulgar mould: Whilst nobler Fancies make a flight too high For common view, and lessen as they fly. On the Statue of King Charles the First, at Charing-Cross. THat the First Charles does here in Triumph ride, See his Son Reign where he a Martyr died; And People pay that Reverence, as they pass, Which then he wanted, to the Sacred Brass: Is not the effect of Gratitude alone; To which we owe the Statue and the Stone. But Heaven this lasting Monument has wrought, That Mortals may Eternally be taught; Rebellion, though successful, is but vain; And Kings so killed rise Conquerors again. This Truth the Royal Image does Proclaim, Loud as the Trumpet of surviving Fame. On the D. of Monmouth's Expedition into Scotland, in the Summer Solstice, 1678. SWift as Jove's Messenger, the Winged God, With Sword as Potent as his Charming Rod, He flew to Execute the King's Command, And in a moment reached that Northern Land; Where Day contending with approaching Night, Assists the Hero with continued Light. On Foes surprised, and by no Night concealed, He might have rushed, but noble Pity held His Hand a while, and to their choice gave ' space, Which they would prove, his Valour, or his Grace. This not well heard, his Cannon louder spoke, And then, like Lightning, thro' that Cloud he broke; His Fame, his Conduct, and that Martial Look, The guilty Scotch with such a Terror struck; That to his Courage they resign the Field, Who to his Bounty had refused to yield. Glad that so little Loyal Blood it cost, He grieves so many Britain's should be lost; Taking more Pains, when he beheld them yield, To save the Flyers, than to win the Field: And at the Court his Interest does employ, That none, who scaped his fatal Sword, should die. And now these rash bold Men their Error find, Not trusting one beyond his Promise kind; One whose great Mind, so bountiful and brave, Had learned the Art to Conquer, and to Save. In Vulgar Breasts no Royal Virtues dwell, Such deeds as these his high Extraction tell; And give a secret Joy to him that Reigns, To see his Blood Triumph in Monmouth's Veins: To see a Leader, whom he got and chose, Firm to his Friends, and fatal to his Foes. But seeing Envy, like the Sun, does beat With scorching Rays, on all that's high and great: This, ill requited Monmouth, is the Bough The Muses send to shade thy Conquering Brow. Lampoons, like Squibs, may make a present blaze; But Time and Thunder pay respect to Bays, Achilles' Arms dazzle our present view, Kept by the Muse as radiant, and as new, As from the Forge of Vulcan first they came; Thousands of years are past, and they the same: Such care she takes, to pay desert with Fame: Then which no Monarch, for his Crowns defence Knows how to give a Nobler Recompense. Of an Elegy made by Mrs. Wharton on the Earl of Rochester. THus mourn the Muses; on the Hearse, Not strowing Tears, but lasting Verse: Which so preserve the Hero's Name; They make him live again in Fame. Chloris in Lines so like his own, Gives him so just and high Renown: That she th' afflicted World relieves; And shows, that still in her he lives. Her Wit as graceful, great and good; Allied in Genius, as in Blood. His loss supplied, now all our fears Are, that the Nymph should melt in Tears. Then fairest Chloris, comfort take, For his, your own, and our sake; Lest his fair Soul, that lives in you, Should from the World for ever go. Reflection on these Words, Pride was not made for Man. NOT the brave Macedonian Youth alone, But base Caligula, when on the Throne, Boundless in Power, would make himself a God; As if the World depended on his Nod. The Syrian King to Beasts was headlong thrown, ere to himself he could be mortal known. [Line, The meanest Wretch, if Heaven should give him Would never stop, till he were thought Divine. All might within discern the Serpent's Pride, If from ourselves our selves did nothing hide. Let the proud Peacock his gay Feathers spread, And woo the Female to his painted Bed. Let Winds and Seas together rage and swell, This Nature teaches, and becomes 'em well. Pride was not made for Man: a conscious sense Of Guilt, and Folly, and their consequence Destroys the claim; and to beholders tells, Here nothing, but the shape of manhood, dwells. Translated out of French. FAde Flowers, fade, Nature will have it so; 'Tis but what we must in our Autumn do: And as your Leaves lie quiet on the Ground, The loss alone by those that loved them found; So in the Grave shall we as quiet lie, Mist by some few, that loved our Company. But some, so like to Thorns and Nettles, live; That none for them, can, when they perish, grieve. Some Verses of an Imperfect Copy, designed for a Friend on his Translation of Ovid's Fasti. ROme's holidays you tell, as if a Guest With the old Romans you were wont to feast. Numa's Religion by themselves believed, Excels the true, only in show received. They made the Nations round about 'em bow, With their Dictator's taken from the Plough: Such Power has Justice, Faith and Honesty; The World was conquered by Morality. Seeming Devotion does but gulled a Knave, That's neither Faithful, Honest, Just, nor Brave: But where Religion does with Virtue join, It makes a Hero, like an Angel shine. Of the late Invasion and Defeat of the Turks, etc. THe modern Nimrod, with a safe delight Pursuing Beasts, that save themselves by flight, Grown proud, and weary of his wonted Game, Would Christians chase, and Sacrifice to fame. A Prince with Eunuchs and the softer Sex Shut up so long, would Warlike Nations vex; Provoke the German, and neglecting Heaven, Forget the Truce for which his Oath was given. His Grand Visier presuming to invest, The chief Imperial City of the West; With the first Charge compelled in haste to rise, His Treasure, Tents, and Cannon left a Prize: The Standard lost, and Janissaries slain, Render the hopes he gave his Master, vain. The flying Turks, that bring the tidings home, Renew the Memory of his Father's Doom; And his Guard Murmurs, that so often brings Down from the Throne their unsuccessful Kings. The trembling Sultan's forced to expiate, His own ill Conduct by another's Fate: The Grand Visier, a Tyrant tho' a Slave, A fair Example to his Master gave; He Bassa's Heads, to save his own made fly, And now, the Sultan to preserve must die. The fatal Bowstring was not in his thought, When breaking Truce, he so unjustly fought; Made the World tremble with a numerous Host, And of undoubted Victory did boast. Strangled he lies! yet seems to cry aloud To warn the Mighty, and instruct the Proud; That of the Great neglecting to be Just, Heaven in a Moment makes an heap of Dust. The Turks so low; why should the Christians lose Such an advantage of their Barbarous Foes? Neglect their present Ruin to complete, Before another Solyman they get? Too late they would with shame, repenting, dread That numerous Herd by such a Lion lead. He, Rhodes and Buda from the Christians tore, Which timely Union might again restore. But sparing Turks, as if with Rage possessed, The Christians perish by themselves oppressed: Cities and Provinces so dearly won, That the Victorious People are undone. What Angel shall descend to reconcile The Christian States, and end their Guilty Toil? A Prince more fit from Heaven we cannot ask, Than Britain's King for such a Glorious task: His dreadful Navy, and his lovely Mind, Gives him the Fear and Favour of Mankind. His Warrant does the Christian Faith defend; On that relying all their Quarrels end. The Peace is signed, and Britain does obtain, What Rome had sought from her fierce Sons in vain. In Battles won Fortune a part doth claim, And Soldiers have their Portion in the Fame: In this successful Union we find Only the Triumph of a worthy Mind: 'Tis all accomplished by his Royal Word, Without unsheathing the destructive Sword; Without a Tax upon his Subjects laid, Their Peace disturbed, their Plenty or their Trade. And what can they to such a Prince deny, With whose Desires the Greatest Kings comply? The Arts of Peace are not to him unknown, This happy way he marched into the Throne; And we owe more to Heaven than to the Sword, The wished return of so benign a Lord. Charles by Old Greece, with a new Freedom graced Above her Antique Heroes shall be placed. What Theseus did, or Theban Hercules Holds no compare with this Victorious Peace; Which on the Turks shall greater Honour gain, Then all their Giants and their Monsters slain. Those are bold Tales, in fabulous Ages told; This Glorious Act the Living do behold. A Panegyric, etc. to O. Cromwell. WHile with a strong, and yet a gentle hand, You bridle Faction, & our Heart's command; Protect us from ourselves, and from our Foe, Make us Unite, and make us Conquer too: Let partial Spirits still aloud complain, Think themselves injured that they cannot Reign; And own no Liberty, but when they may Without Control upon their Fellows prey. Above the Waves as Neptune showed his Face, To chide the winds, and save the Trojan Race: So has your Highness, raised above the rest, Storms of Ambition tossing us, repressed. Your Drooping Country, torn with Civil Hate, Restored by you, is made a Glorious State: The Seat of Empire; where the Irish come, And the unwilling Scot, to fetch their doom. The Sea's our own; and now all Nations greet, With bending Sails, each Vessel of our Fleet: Your Power extends as far as Winds can blow, Or swelling Sails upon the Globe may go. Heaven, that has placed this Island to give Law, To Balance Europe, and her States to awe: In this Conjunction does on Britain's smile; The greatest Leader, and the greatest Isle. Whether this Portion of the World were rent By the Rude Ocean from the Continent; Or thus Created: sure it was designed To be the Sacred Refuge of Mankind. Hither the Oppressed shall henceforth resort Justice to crave, and Succour at your Court: And then your Highness, not for ours alone, But for the World's Protector shall be known. Fame, swifter than your winged Navy, flies Through every Land, that near the Ocean lies, Sounding your Name, and telling dreadful News, To all that Piracy and Rapine use. With such a Chief the meanest Nation blessed, Might hope to raise her Head above the rest: What may be thought impossible to do, For us embraced by the Sea and you? Lords of the World's great waste, the Ocean, we Whole Forests send to reign upon the Sea: And every Coast may trouble or relieve; But none can visit us without your leave. Angels and we have this Prerogative, That none can at our Happy Seat arrive: While we descend, at Pleasure to invade The Bad with Vengeance, and the Good to aid. Our little World, the Image of the Great, Like that amidst the Ambient Ocean set, Of her own growth hath all that Nature craves; And all that's rare, as Tribute from the Waves. As Egypt does not on the Clouds rely, But to her Nile owes more than to the Sky: So whatsoever our Earth and Heaven denies, Our ever constant Friend the Sea supplies. The taste of hot Arabia's Spice we know, Free from the scorching Sun that makes it grow. Without that heat, in Persian Silk we shine; And without Planting, drink of every Vine. To dig for Wealth we weary not our Limbs; Gold, though the heaviest Metal, hither swims. Ours is the Harvest, where the Indians mow; We plow the Deep, and reap what others sow. Things of the noblest kind our own Soil breeds; Stout are our Men, and Warlike are our Steeds. Rome, though her Eagle thro'tho World had flown, Could never make this Island all her own: Here the Third Edward, and the Black Prince too; France Conquering, Henry flourished, and now you; For whom we stayed, as did the Grecian State, Till Alexander came to urge their Fate. When for more Worlds the Macedonian cried, He wist not Thetis in her Lap did hide Another yet, a World reserved for you, To make more great than that he did subdue. He safely might old Troops to Battle lead, Against th' unwarlike Persian and the Mede; Whose hasty flight did from a bloodless Field, More Spoil than Honour to the Victor yield. A Race unconquered, by their Clime made bold, The Caledonians Armed with want and cold, Have by a fate indulgent to your Fame, Been from all Ages kept for you to tame. Whom the old Roman Wall so ill confined, With a new Chain of Garrisons you bind: Here foreign Gold no more shall make them come; Our English Iron holds them fast at home. They that henceforth must be content to know No warmer Region than their Hills of Snow; May blame the Sun, but must extol your Grace, Which in our Senate hath allowed them place: Preferred by Conquest, happily o'erthrown, Falling they Rise, to be with us made one. So kind Dictator's made, when they came home, Their vanquished Foes Free Citizens of Rome. Like favour find the Irish, with like fate, Advanced to be a Portion of our State. Whilst by your Valour, and obliging Mind, Nations divided by the Sea are joined. Holland to gain our friendship is content To be our Out-gard on the Continent: She from her fellow Provinces would go, Rather than hazard to have you her Foe. In our late fight, when Cannons did diffuse (Preventing Posts) the Terror and the News; Our Neighbours then did Tremble at the roar: But our Conjunction makes them tremble more. Your never failing Sword made War to cease; And now you heal us with the Arts of Peace: Our minds with Bounty, and with Awe Engage; Invite Affection, and restrain our Rage. Less Pleasure take brave Minds in Battles won, Than in restoring such as are undone: Tigers have Courage, and the Rugged Bear; But Man alone can when he Conquers, spare. To Pardon willing, and to punish loath: You strike with one Hand, but you heal with both: Lifting up all that Prostrate lie, you grieve You cannot make the Dead again to Live. When Fate or Error had our Rage misled, And o'er these Nations such Confusion spread: The only Cure, which could from Heaven come down, Was so much Power and Clemency in One: One whose Extraction from a Noble Line, Gives Hopes again that Wellborn Men may shine; The meanest in your Nature, Mildred and Good; The Noblest Rest secured in your Blood. Much have we wondered, how you hid in Peace, A Mind proportioned to such things as these: How such a Ruling Spirit you could restrain; And Practise first over yourself to Reign. Your Private Life did a Just Pattern give, How Fathers, Husbands, Pious Men should live. Born to Command, your Princely Virtue slept, Like Humble David, whilst the Flock he kept: But when your troubled Country called you forth; Your flaming Courage and your matchless worth, Dazzling the Eyes of all that did pretend, To fierce Contention gave a Prosperous end. Still as you rise, the State exalted too, Finds no Distemper, while 'tis changed by you; Changed like the World's great Scene, when without noise The Rising Sun Night's Vulgar Lights destroys. Had you some Ages past this Race of Glory Run, with amazement we should read the Story: But living Virtue (all Achievements past) Meets Envy still, to grapple with at last. This Caesar found, and that ungrateful Age, Which losing him, fell back to Blood and Rage. Mistaken Brutus thought to break the Yoke; But cut the Bond of Union with that stroke. That Sun once Set, a thousand meaner Stars Gave a Dim light to Violence and Wars: To such a Tempest as now threatens all, Did not your Mighty Arm prevent the fall. If Rome's great Senate could not wield the sword, Which of the Conquered World had made them Lord; What hope had ours, while yet their Power was new, To Rule Victorious Armies, but by you? You, that had taught them to subdue their Foes, Could order, teach, and their high Spirits compose: To every Duty could their Minds engage; Provoke their Courage, and command their Rage. So when a Lion shakes his dreadful Main, And angry grows; if he that first took pain, To tame his Youth, approach the haughty Beast; He bends to him, but frights away the rest. Then let the Muses, with such Notes as these, Instruct us what belongs unto our Peace. Your Battles they hereafter shall Indite, And draw the Image of our Mars in Fight; Tell of Towns Stormed, of Armies overrun, And Mighty Kingdoms by your Conquest won: How while you thundered, Clouds of dust did choke Contending Troops, and Seas lay hid in Smoke. Illustrious Acts high Raptures do Infuse; And every Conqueror creates a Muse. Here in low strains your milder Deeds we Sing: But then (my Lord) we'll Bays and Olive bring, To crown your Head; while you in Triumph ride O'er Nations Conquered, and the Sea beside: While all the Neighbour Princes unto you, Like joseph's Sheaves, pay Reverence and bow. Upon the Death of O. C. WE must resign; Heaven his great Soul does claim In Storms as loud as his Immortal Fame: His dying Groans, his last breath shakes our Isle; And Trees uncut fall for his Funeral Pile. About his Palace their broad Roots are tossed Into the Air: So Romulus was lost. New Rome in such a Tempest missed her King; And from obeying, fell to Worshipping. On Oeta's top thus Hercules lay dead, With ruined Oaks and Pines about him spread. Those his last Fury from the Mountain rent: Our dying Hero from the Continent, Ravished whole Towns; and Forts from Spaniards reft, As his last Legacy to Britain left. The Ocean, which so long our hopes confined, Could give no limits to his vaster mind: Our bounds enlargement was his latest toil; Nor hath he left us Prisoners to our Isle. Under the Tropic is our Language spoke, And part of Flanders hath received our Yoke. From Civil Broils, he did us disengage; Found Nobler Objects for our Martial Rage: And with wise Conduct, to his Country showed, Their ancient way of Conquering abroad. Ungrateful then! if we no Tears allow To him, that gave us Peace and Empire too. Princes that feared him, grieve, concerned to see No pitch of Glory from the Grave is free. Nature herself, took notice of his Death; And sighing, swelled the Sea with such a breath: That to remotest Shores her Billows rolled Th' approaching Fate of their great Ruler told. Mr. WALLER's Speech to the House of Commons, April 22. 1640. Mr. Speaker, I Will use no Preface, as they do who prepare Men for some thing in which they have a particular Interest: I will only propose what I conceive fit for the House to consider: and shall be no more concerned in the Event, than they that shall hear me. Two things I observe in his Majesty's Demands. First, The Supply. Secondly, Our speedy dispatch thereof. Touching the First: His Majesty's Occasions for Money are but too evident. For, to say nothing, how we are neglected abroad, and distracted at home; the Calling of this Parliament, and our Sitting here (an Effect which no light Cause could in these times have produced) is enough to make any reasonable Man believe, That the Exchequer abounds not so much in Money, as the State does in Occasions to use it. And I hope we shall all appear willing to disprove those who have thought to dissuade his Majesty from this way of Parliaments, as uncertain; and to let Him see, it is as ready, and more safe for the Advancement of His Affairs, than any New, or pretended Old, way whatsoever. For the speedy Dispatch required, which was the Second thing, not only his Majesty, but Res Ipsa loquitur; the occasion seems to importune no less: Necessity is come upon us like an Armed Man. Yet the use of Parliaments heretofore (as appears by the Writs that call us hither) was to advise with His Majesty of things concerning the Church and Commonwealth. And it hath ever been the Custom of Parliaments, by good and wholesome Laws to refresh the Commonwealth in general; yea and to descend into the Remedies of particular Grievances; before any mention made of a Supply. Look back upon the best Parliaments, and still you shall find, That the last Acts are for the free Gifts of Subsidies on the People's part, and General Pardons on the King's part. Even the wisest Kings have first acquainted their Parliaments with their Designs, and the Reasons thereof; and then demanded the Assistance, both of their Council and Purses. But Physicians, though they be called of the latest, must not stomach it, or talk what might have been, but apply themselves roundly to the Cure. Let us not stand too nicely upon Circumstances, nor too rigidly postpone the matter of Supply, to the healing of our lighter Wounds. Let us do, what possibly may be done with reason and Honesty on our parts, to comply with His Majesty's Desires, and to prevent the imminent Ills which threaten us. But consider (Mr. Speaker) that they who think themselves already undone, can never apprehend themselves in Danger: and they that have nothing left, can never give freely. Nor shall we ever discharge the Trust of those that sent us hither, or make them believe that they contribute to their own Defence and Safety; unless his Majesty be pleased, first to restore them to the Propriety of their Goods and Lawful Liberties, whereof they esteem themselves now out of Possession. One need not tell you, That the Propriety of Goods is the Mother of Courage, and the Nurse of Industry, makes us valiant in War, and Good-husbands in Peace. The Experience I have of former Parliaments, and my present Observation of the care the Country has had to choose Persons of Worth and Courage, makes me think this House like the Spartans, whose forward Valour required some softer Music to allay and quiet their Spirits, too much moved with the found of Martial Instruments. 'Tis not the fear of Imprisonment, or, if need be, of Death itself, that can keep a truehearted English Man from the care to leave this part of his Inheritance as entire to Posterity, as he received it from his Ancestors. This therefore let us first do, and the more speedily, that we may come to the matter of Supply; let us give new Force to the many Laws, which have been heretofore made for the maintaining of our Rights and Privileges, and endeavour to restore this Nation to the Fundamental and Vital Liberties, the Propriety of our Goods, and the Freedom of our Persons: No way doubting, but we shall find His Majesty as gracious and ready, as any of his Royal Progenitors have been, to grant our just Desires therein. For not only the People do think, but the Wisest do know, That what we have suffered in this long Vacancy of Parliaments, we have suffered from his Ministers. That the Person of no King was ever better beloved of his People; and that no People were ever more unsatisfied with the Ways of levying Moneys, are Two Truths which may serve one to demonstrate the other: For such is their Aversion to the present Courses, That neither the admiration they have of his Majesty's native Inclination to Justice and Clemency, nor the pretended Consent of the Judges, could make them willingly submit themselves to this late Tax of Ship-Money. And such is their natural Love and just Esteem of his Majesty's Goodness, That no late Pressure could provoke them, nor any Example invite them to Disloyalty or Disobedience. But what is it then, that hath bred this misunderstanding betwixt the King and his People? How is it, that having so good a King, we have so much to complain of? Why, we are told of the Son of Solomon, that he was a Prince of a tender Heart; and yet we see, by the Advice of violent Counsellors how rough an Answer he gave to his People. That his Finger should be as heavy as his Father's Loins, was not his own, but the Voice of some Persons about him, that wanted the Gravity and Moderation requisite for the Counsellors of a young King. I love not to press Allegories too far: but the Resemblance of Job's Story with ours holds so well, that I cannot but observe it to you. It pleased God to give his Enemy leave to afflict him more than once or twice, and to take all he had from him; and yet he was not provoked to rebel, so much as with his Tongue: though he had no very good Example of one that lay very near him, and felt not half that which he suffered. I hope his Majesty will imitate God in the benigner part too; and as he was severe to Job only while he discoursed with another concerning him; but when he vouchsafed to speak himself to him, began to rebuke those, who had mistaken and mis-judged his Case, and to restore the patient Man to his former Prosperity: So now, that his Majesty hath admitted us to His Presence, and spoken Face to Face with us; I doubt not, but we shall see fairer Days, and be as Rich in the Possession of our own as ever we were. I wonder at those that seem to doubt the Success of this Parliament, or that the Misunderstanding between the King and his People should last any longer, now they are so happily met. His Majesty's Wants are not so great, but that we may find means to supply him: Nor our Desires so unreasonable, or so incompatible with Government, but that His Majesty may well satisfy them. For our late Experience, I hope, will teach us what Rocks to shun; and how necessary the use of Moderation is. And for His Majesty, he has had Experiencé enough, how that prospers, which is gotten without the concurrent Good Will of his People: Never more Money taken from the Subject; never more want in the Exchequer. If we look upon what has been paid; it is more than ever the People of England were wont to pay in such a time: if we look upon what has been effected therewith▪ it shows, as if never King had been worse supplied. So that we seem to have endeavoured the filling of a Sieve with Water. Whosoever gave Advice for these courses, has made good the saying of the Wise Man, Qui conturbat Domum suam, possidebit ventum. By new ways they think to accomplish Wonders; but in truth they grasp the Wind, and are at the same time cruel to us, and to the King too. For if the Commonwealth flourish, than he that hath the Sovereignty can never want nor do amiss: so as he govern not according to the Interest of others; but go the shortest and the safest Ways to his own and the Common Good. The Kings of this Nation have always governed by Parliament: And if we look upon the Success of things since Parliaments were laid by, it resembles that of the Grecians, Ex illo ftuere & retrò sublapsa referri Rês Danaum— especially on the Subject's part. For though the King hath gotten little; they have lost all. But His Majesty shall hear the Truth from us; and we shall make appear the Errors of those Divines, who would persuade us, that a Monarch must be Absolute, and that he may do all things ad libitum; receding not only from their Text (though that be a wandering too) but from the way their own Profession might teach them, State super Vias antiquas, and Remove not the ancient Bounds and Landmarks which our Fathers have set. If to be Absolute, were to be restrained by no Laws; then can no King in Christendom be so; for they all stand obliged to the Laws Christian. And we ask no more; for to this Pillar are our Privileges fixed, our Kings at their Coronation taking a sacred Oath not to infringe them. I am sorry these Men take no more care to gain our Belief of those things, which they tell us for our Soul's Health; while we know them so manifestly in the wrong, in that which concerns the Liberties and Privileges of the Subjects of England: But they gain Preferment; and then 'tis no matter, though they neither believe themselves, nor are believed by others. But since they are so ready to let loose the Consciences of their Kings, we are the more carefully to provide for our Protection against this Pulpit-Law, by declaring and reinforcing the Municipal Laws of this Kingdom. It is worth observing, how new this Opinion is, or rather this way of rising, even among themselves. For Mr. Hooker, who sure was no refractory Man, (as they term it) thinks, That the first Government was Arbitrary, till it was found, that to live by one Man's Will, became the Cause of all men's Misery: (these are his Words) concluding, That this was the Original of inventing Laws. And if we look further back, our Histories will tell us, that the Prelates of this Kingdom have often been the Mediators between the King and His Subjects, to present and pray redress of their Grievances: and had reciprocally then as much Love and Reverence from the People. But these Preachers, more active than their Predecessors, and wiser than the Laws, have found out a better Form of Government. The King must be a more Absolute Monarch, than any of his Predecessors; and to them he must owe it: though in the mean time, they hazard the Hearts of his People; and involve him in a Thousand Difficulties. For, suppose, this Form of Government were inconvenient; and yet this is but a Supposition, for these Five hundred Years it hath not only maintained us in safety, but made us Victorious over other Nations; but, I say, suppose they have another Idea of one more convenient: we all know how dangerous Innovations are, though to the better, and what hazard those Princes must run, that enterprise the change of a long established Government. Now of all our Kings that have gone before, and of all that are to succeed in this happy Race; Why should so Pious and so Good a King be exposed to this Trouble and Hazard? Besides, that Kings so diverted can never do any great Matter abroad. But while these Men have thus bent their Wits against the Laws of their Country; whether they have neglected their own Province, and what Tares are grown up in the Field which they should have tilled, I leave it to a second Consideration: not but that Religion ought to be the first thing in our Purposes and Desires: but that which is first in Dignity, is not always to precede in order of time. For Wellbeing supposes a Being; and the first Impediment, which Men naturally endeavour to remove, is the want of those things, without which they cannot subsist. God first assigned unto Adam Maintenance of Life, and gave him a Title to the rest of the Creatures, before he appointed a Law to observe. And let me tell you, if our Adversaries have any such design, as there is nothing more easy, than to impose Religion on a People deprived of their Liberties; so there is nothing more hard than to do the same upon Freemen. And therefore (Mr. Speaker) I conclude with this Motion, that there may be an Order presently made, that the first thing this House will consider of, shall be the restoring this Nation in general to the Fundamental and Vital Liberties; the Propriety of our Goods, and Freedom of our Persons: and that then we will forthwith consider of the Supply desired. And thus we shall discharge the Trust reposed in us, by those that sent us hither. His Majesty will see, that we make more than ordinary haste to satisfy his Demands: and we shall let all those know, that seek to hasten the matter of Supply, that they will so far delay it, as they give Interruption to the former. Mr. WALLER's Speech July 6. 1641. MY LORDS, IAm commanded by the House of Commons, to present you with these Articles against Mr. Justice Crawley, which when your Lordships shall have been pleased to hear read, I shall take leave (according to custom) to say something of what I have collected from the sense of that House, concerning the Crimes therein contained. Then the Charge was read, containing his extrajudicial Opinions subscribed, and judgement given for Ship-money; and afterward, a Declaration in his charge at an Assize, That Ship-money was so Inherent a Right in the Crown, that it would not be in the power of a Parliament to take it away. My Lords, NOT only my Wants, but my Affections ronder me less fit for this Employment: For though it has not been my happiness to have the Law a part of my breeding; there is no Man honours that Profession more, or has a greater Reverence towards the Grave Judges, the Oracles thereof. Out of Parliament, all our Courts of Justice are governed or directed by them: and when a Parliament is called; if your Lordships were not assisted by them, and the House of Commons by other Gentlemen of that Robe, Experience tells us, it might run a hazard of being styled Parliamentum indoctorum. But as all Professions are obnoxions to the malice of the Professors, and by them most easily betrayed; so (my Lords) these Articles have told you, how these Brothers of the Coif are become fratres in malo; how these Sons of the Law have torn out the Bowels of their Mother. But this Judge (whose charge you last heard) in one expression of his, excels no less his Fellows than they have done the worst of their Predecessors, in this Conspiracy against the Commonwealth. Of the Judgement for Ship-money, and those extrajudicial Opinions preceding the same (wherein they are jointly concerned) you have already heard: how unjust and pernicious a proceeding that was in so public a Cause, has been sufficiently expressed to your Lordships. But this man, adding despair to our misery, tells us from the Bench, that Ship-money was a Right so Inherent in the Crown, that it would not be in the Power of an Act of Parliament to take it away. Herein (my Lords) he did not only give as deep a Wound to the Commonwealth, as any of the rest; but dipped his Dart in such a Poison, that, so far as in him lay, it might never receive a Cure. As by those abortive Opinions, subscribing to the Subversion of our Propriety, before he heard what could be said for it, he prevented his Own; So by this Declaration of his, he endeavours to prevent the Judgement of Your Lordships too; and to confine the Power of a Parliament, the only Place where this Mischief might be redressed. Sure he is more wise and learned, than to believe himself in this Opinion; or not to know how Ridiculous it will appear to a Parliament, and how Dangerous to himself: And therefore, no doubt, by saying, no Parliament could abolish this Judgement; his meaning was, That this Judgement had abolished Parliaments. This Imposition of Ship-money, springing from a pretended Necessity; was it not enough, that it was grown Annual, but he must entail it upon the State for ever; at once making Necessity inherent to the Crown, and Slavery to the Subject? Necessity, which dissolving all Law, is so much more prejudicial to His Majesty than to any of us, by how much the Law has invested his Royal State with a greater Power, and ampler Fortune. For so undoubted a Truth, it has ever been, that Kings, as well as Subjects, are involved in the Confusion, which necessity produces; that the Heathen thought their Gods also obliged by the same; Pareamus necessitati, quam nec Homines nec Dii superant. This Judge then, having in his Charge at the Assize declared the dissolution of the Law, by this supposed necessity; with what Conscience could he at the same Assize proceed to condemn and punish Men; unless perhaps he meant, the Law was still in force, for our Destruction, and not for our Preservation? That it should have Power to kill, but none to Protect us? A thing no less horrid, than if the Sun should burn without lighting us; or the Earth serve only to bury, and not feed and nourish us. But (my Lords) to demonstrate, that this was a supposititious imposed Necessity, and such as they could remove when they pleased; at the last Convention in Parliament, a Price was set upon it; for Twelve Subsidies you shall reverse this Sentence. It may be said, that so much Money would have removed the present Necessity: but here was a Rate set upon future necessity; for Twelve Subsidies you shall never suffer necessity again, you shall for ever abolish that Judgement. Here this Mystery is revealed, this Vizor of Necessity is pulled off: And now it appears, That this Parliament of Judges had very frankly and bountifully presented His Majesty with Twelve Subsidies, to be levied on Your Lordships and the Commons. Certainly there is no Privilege which more properly belongs to a Parliament, than to open the Purse of the Subject: and yet these Judges, who are neither capable of sitting among us in the House of Commons, nor with your Lordships, otherwise than as your Assistants, have not only assumed to themselves this Privilege of Parliament, but presumed at once to make a present to the Crown, of all that either your Lordships, or the Commons of England do, or shall hereafter possess. And because this Man has had the boldness to put the Power of Parliament in balance with the opinion of the Judges; I shall entreat your Lordships to observe by way of comparison, the solemn and safe proceeding of the one, with the precipitate dispatch of the other. In Parliament (as your Lordships know well) no new Law can pass, or old be abrogated, till it has been thrice read with your Lordships, thrice in the Commons House, and then it receives the Royal Assent; so that 'tis like Gold seven times purified: Whereas these Judges by this one Resolution of theirs, would persuade his Majesty, that by naming Necessity, he might at once dissolve (at least suspend) the great Charter two and thirty times confirmed by his Royal Progenitors, the Petition of Right, and all other Laws provided for the maintenance of the Right and Propriety of the Subject. A strange force (my Lords) in the sound of this word Necessity, that like a Charm it should silence the Laws, while we are despoiled of all we have. For that but a part of our goods was taken, is owing to the Grace and Goodness of the King; for so much as concerns these Judges, we have no more left than they perhaps may deserve to have, when your Lordships shall have passed Judgement upon them: This for the neglect of their Oaths, and betraying that public Trust, which for the conservation of our Laws was reposed in them. Now for the cruelty and unmercifulness of this Judgement; you may please to remember that in the old Law they were forbid to seethe a Kid in his Mother's Milk; of which the received interpretation is, that we should not use that to the destruction of any Creature, which was intended for its preservation: Now (my Lords) God and Nature has given us the Sea as our best Guard against our Enemies, and our Ships as our greatest Glory above other Nations; and how barbarously would these Men have let in the Sea upon us, at once to wash away our Liberties, and to overwhelm, if not our Land, all the Propriety we have therein; making the Supply of our Navy, a pretence for the ruin of our Nation? For observe, beseech you, the fruit and consequence of this Judgement, how this Money has prospered, how contrary an effect it has had to the end, for which they pretended to take it: On every County a Ship is annually imposed; and who would not expect, but our Seas by this time should be covered with the number of our Ships? Alas (my Lords) the daily Complaints of the decay of our Navy tell us how ill Ship-Money has maintained the Sovereignty of the Sea; and by the many Petitions which we receive from the Wives of those miserable Captives at Algiers, (being between four or five thousand of our Countrymen) it does too evidently appear that to make us Slaves at home, is not the way to keep us from being made Slaves abroad: so far has this Judgement been from relieving the present, or preventing the future necessity; that as it changed our Real Propriety into the shadow of a Propriety, so of a feigned it has made a real necessity. A little before the approach of the Gauls to Rome, while the Romans had yet no apprehension of that danger, there was heard a voice in the Air, louder than ordinary, The Gauls are come; which voice after they had sacked the City, and besieged the Capitol, was held so ominous, that Livy relates it as a Prodigy. This Anticipation of necessity seems to have been no less ominous to us: These Judges, like ill boding Birds, have called necessity upon the State, in a time when I dare say they thought themselves in greatest security. But if it seem Superstitious to take this as an Omen; sure I am, we may look on it as a cause of the unfeigned necessity we now suffer; for what regret and discontent had this Judgement bred among us? And as when the Noise and Tumult in a private House grows so loud as to be heard into the Streets, it calls in the next Dwellers either kindly to appease, or to make their own use of the domestic strife; so in all likelihood our known discontents at home have been a concurrent cause to invite our Neighbours to visit us, so much to the expense and trouble of both these Kingdoms. And here, My Lords, I cannot but take notice of the most sad effect of this oppression, the ill influence it has had upon the Ancient Reputation and Valour of the English Nation: And no wonder, for if it be true that Oppression makes a wise Man mad; it may well suspend the Courage of the Valiant. The same happened to the Romans, when for renown in Arms they most excelled the rest of the World; the story is but short, 'twas in the time of the Decemviri (and I think the chief troublers of our State may make up that number.) The Decemviri, My Lords, had subverted the Laws, suspended the Courts of Justice, and (which was the greatest grievance both to the Nobility and People) had for some years omitted to assemble the Senate, which was their Parliament: This, says the Historian, did not only deject the Romans, and make them despair of their Liberty, but caused them to be less valued by their Neighbours: The Sabines take the advantage and invade them; and now the Decemviri are forced to call the long-desired Senate; whereof the People were so glad, that Hostibus belloque gratiam habuerunt: This Assembly breaks up in discontent: nevertheless the War proceeds; Forces are raised, led by some of the Decemviri, and with the Sabines they meet in the Field: I know your Lordships expect the event: My Author's words of his Countrymen are these, x ' quid ductu aut auspicio Decemvirorum prosper gereretur, vinci se patiebantur: They chose rather to suffer a present diminution of their Honour, than by victory to confirm the Tyranny of their new Masters: At their return from this unfortunate expedition, after some distempers and expostulations of the people, another Senate, that is, a second Parliament, is called; and there the Decemviri are questioned, deprived of their Authority, imprisoned, banished, and some lose their Lives: and soon after his vindication of their Liberties, the Romans by their better success, made it appear to the World, that Liberty and Courage dwell always in the same Breast, and are never to be divorced. No doubt, my Lords, but your Justice shall have the like effect upon this dispirited people; 'tis not the restitution of our ancient Laws alone, but the restauration of our ancient Courage, which is expected from your Lordships. I need not say any thing to move your just indignation, that this Man should so cheaply give away that which your Noble Ancestors with so much Courage and Industry had so long maintained: You have often been told how careful they were, tho' with the hazard of their Lives and Fortunes, to derive those Rights and Liberties as entire to Posterity as they received them from their Fathers: what they did with labour, you may do with ease; what they did with danger, you may do securely: the foundation of our Laws is not shaken with the Engine of War; they are only blasted with the Breath of these Men, and by your Breath they may be restored. What Judgements your Predecessors have given, and what Punishments their Predecessors have suffered for Offences of this nature, your Lordships have already been so well informed, that I shall not trouble you with a repetition of those Precedents: Only (my Lords) something I shall take leave to observe of the Person with whose Charge I have presented you, that you may the less doubt of the wilfulness of his Offence. His Education in the Inns of Court, his constant Practice as a Councillor, and his Experience as a Judge (considered with the mischief he has done) makes it appear, that this Progress of his through the Law, has been like that of a diligent Spy through a Country, into which he meant to conduct an Enemy. To let you see he did not offend for company; there is one Crime so peculiar to himself, and of such malignity, that it makes him at once uncapable of your Lordship's favour, and his own subsistence incompatible with the right and propriety of the Subject: for if you leave him in a capacity of interpreting the Laws; has he not already declared his opinion, That your Votes and Resolutions against Ship-money are void, and that it is not in the power of a Parliament, to abolish that Judgement? To him, my Lords, that has thus played with the power of Parliament, we may well apply what was once said to the Goat browsing on the Vine. Rode, caper, vitem; tamen hinc cum stabis ad arras In tua quod fundi Cornua possit, erit: He has cropped and infringed the Privileges of a banished Parliament; but now it is returned, he may find it has power enough to make a Sacrifice of him, to the better establishment of our Laws: and in truth what other satisfaction can he make his injured Country, than to confirm by his Example those Rights and Liberties which he had ruined by his Opinion? For the proofs, my Lords, they are so manifest, that they will give you little trouble in the disquisition: his Crimes are already upon Record, the Delinquent and the Witness is the same; having from several seats of Judicature proclaimed himself an Enemy to our Laws and Nation, Ex ore suo judicabitur. To which purpose, I am commanded by the Knights, Citizens, and Burgesses of the House of Commons, to desire your Lordships that as speedy a proceeding may be had against Mr. Justice Crawley, as the course of Parliaments will permit. FINIS. ERRATA. PAg. 4. Line 11. for its, r his. p. 7. l. ult. in Spoil, r. in the Spoil. p. 8. l. 14. after She's gone, make! p. 9 enters, r. enter. p. 22. l. ult. King, r. Kings. p. 24. l. 1. deal? ib. l. 8. rember, r. remember. p. 41. l 3. passions, r. passion. p. 42. l. 12. Tempest, r. Tempests. p. 56. l. ult. and our sake, r. and for our sake. p. 60. l. 5. gulled, r. guild. p. 60. l. 9 the, r. these.