THE MEDAL OF John Bays: A satire AGAINST FOLLY and KNAVERY. — Facit indignatio versus. LONDON: Printed for Richard Janeway. 1682. EPISTLE TO THE TORIES. WE here present you with a Medal of an Heroic Author, which most properly belongs to you; (he being at this time hired to Lie and Libel in your service) and in his last Essay, has performed it so dully, that if you put him away (as it is said of the Gentleman-Usher and the Doctor in the Rehearsal) No body else will take him; No, No body else will take him. We cannot say his Portraiture is done at the full length, or has all its Ornaments, since there are many touches to be added to it, which we shall reserve for the occasions he shall give us hereafter. But we dare say, these rough strokes have made the lineaments and proportions so true, that any one that knows him, will find there is a great resemblance of him; and will believe that he has sat above five times for it. Though indeed he is so liberal of showing himself, that in an hours space, he will expose all his Parts; and a good Drawer, in that time, may observe enough to make a * So the Painters call a naked Picture. nudity of him. You may know he is no concealer of himself, by a story which he tells of himself, viz. That (when he came first to Town) being a young raw fellow of seven and Twenty, as he called himself when he told the story, he frequenting but one Coffee-house, the Woman (it seems finding him out) put Coffee upon him for Chocolate, and made him pay three pence a dish for two years to midable Cripple. The unpunished audaciousness of this frontless Scribbler, would be a reproach to any Government; and therefore no man can think him too hardly dealt with in the following Medal: especially▪ since he knows, and so do all his old acquaintance, that there is not an untrue word spoken of him. There is not so vile an employment, as that of a Hired Libeler, an Executioner of men's Reputations: the Hangman is an Office of greater Dignity. Were all which your Poet says of this great Peer true, yet the Libeler ought to be whipped out of a Country for his Insolence: but what does he deserve, when he himself knows every word of it to be false! and scarce a Papist in England believes any thing of it to be true. He is as unlucky in his allusion to the Turks wearing of Scanderbegs Bones, as he is afterwards in his bungling Simile, about the feigned Association. They were the Turks, Scanderbegs Enemies, that wore his Bones; and therefore he thinks this Lords Friends must do the same. According to the example which he citys you, Tories should do it and I doubt not but ye would be glad on't; but we hope he will last, till by a happy Agreement of the King with a Parliament, your Party will hide their heads, or become of no signification; which for that very reason ye endeavour all ye can to obstruct▪ I know not what good his Bones might do ye, were he dead; but I am sure his Brains, while he is living, would be very much to the advantage of the best of ye: those would keep ye from the ridiculous Follies and mad Extravagancies ye daily run into. 'Tis you that are apparently the Faction; since ye are the Few that have divided from the Many. 'Tis you who in your Factious Clubs vilify the Government, by audaciously railing against Parliaments, so great and so essential a part of it. They ought to lose the use of Speech, who dare say any thing irreverently of the King, or disrespectfully of Parliaments. If any thing could make the King lose the love and confidence of his people, it would be your unpunished boldness, who presume to call the Freeholders of England the Rabble, and their Representative a Crowd, and strike at the very Root of all their Liberty. Ye are those who abuse our gracious Prince, and endeavour to delude him with false Numbers, and promising to serve him when ye have no Interest, as in all the frequent Parliaments (his Majesty has been pleased to promise us) will plainly appear. If any thing could dishonour him, it would be the bloody violence of your Spirits; your unpunished Exorbitances, and breach of Laws; your Huzzaing, Roaring, Quarrelling, and Damning by much the greater part of the Nation, and their whole Representative Body. Who made ye Judges in Israel? but whatever ye might have been in Judea, ye will find very few of ye will be made, in England, trusties for the Liberty of the people, as your Poet says, who (as if he had been hired for the whole Popish Plot) vilely casts dirt upon the best reform Protestants in his next Page, That Beza has been charged by the Papists for having instigated Poltrotius Meraeus to Assassinate the Duke of Guise, is readily acknowledged; but withal, we know how usual, and how meritorious a thing it is with them, to brand Protestants with whatsoever they can suppose will render them odious. Nor was this Calumny so much fastened by them upon Beza, as upon the Admiral Coligni, who was known to be a man of more Virtue and Honour, than to allow the least accession to so base a Crime. Had this vile Libeler but common honesty and ingenuity, he would (at the same time he presumes to revive this calumnious Accusation) have taken notice of the vindication which the Admiral published to justify his innocency. Vide Stat. Repub. & Relig. in Galliâ, part 2. p. 358. And for Buchanan, the character which Archbishop Spotswood has given of him, is enough to secure and preserve his memory from the stains which such Fellows as this, or any Enemies to truth and Learning▪ could throw upon him. Nor will Calvin lose the reverence he has from good Protestants, for this libeler's mercenary Reproaches. For the Association, which he next mentions, dropped out of the Clouds, entered into, and subscribed by no body, and seen by no one of our Party that ever we could hear of, (and we believe, by none of yours, but those that contrived the putting it into the Earls Closet) it renders you more ridiculous and extravagant than ever ye were; to set up an Abhorrence through all England, of a Paper, which you can lay to the charge of no Party, nor at one single man's door. But we doubt not but if you had found or put the Libel your Poet was Cudgelled for (though few of your Loyal Closets, perhaps, are without that, and other Libels upon the King) into the Earls Closet, ye would have set up an abhorrence of that, rather than not have kept up the Fermentation and Division amongst the people. When this is run out of breath, we suppose ye will set up the Ticket for the Forbidden Dinner, and ye will abhor Factious, Schismatical, Seditious, Fanatical, and Rebellious Dining, or some new Red-Herring out of his Lordship's Kitchen will come forth. The insolence in the same page of your Libeler, in comparing the Jury (that gave in Ignoramus to the Bill against our Noble Peer) to a Jury taken out of Newgate, deserves the Pillory, since 'tis evident to the whole City, they were all men of singular Honesty and Integrity in all their dealings, of signal good Lives, of good Understandings, and of great Wealth; and, in the Memory of man, the City has not seen a Jury better qualified; nor was there one Dissenter amongst them, to prevent your weak Cavils; Cavils, I say; for it had been no Objection if they had been all so, since they value their Oaths and Consciences as much as any sort of men and have no Dispensations to go against them. And this Clamour against the Jury, is because they would not believe an incredible matter from incredible Witnesses, who either were then, or had been lately, most of them Papists; who were so inconsistent in their Testimony with one another an● themselves, that I am confident not one of the reverend Benc believed them: if they did, they must be very shallow, and must take this Lord to be little better than an Idiot. If ye look upon the Oath of a Grand Juryman, ye will find that the meaning of those two words Billa Vera is, they do believe the matter of the Bill in their Consciences to be true; which if they did not, they must have been perjured if they found, the Bill. The Law provides, that in capital Cases, a man shall not be wrongfully accused, and therefore appoints two Juries, both which are bound to find according to their belief; and the injustice is as great, though the injury be less, for the former to accuse by Indictment, if they believe the party innocent, as for the latter to hang him with the same belief. If ye had had the disposal of the Juries, we doubt not but there are Conspirators would have found Witnesses to have sworn that most of the Nobility and Gentry who have been zealous and active against Popery, had entered into this feigned Association. Heaven keep us from Juries, such as will give 800 l. damages to a Powder-monkey, without any Damage proved, (for words spoken by a Magistrate in rebuking the saucy Fellow) as if it were Scandalum Magnatum to abuse a Tory, though a seller of Washballs: And from that which gave 1000 l. to a Knight for being called Papist, whom it would not, perhaps, have cost 100 l. if he had been convicted: Or 500 l. to a notorious Varlet, for being six hours detained by a Messenger, (after notice of the Dissolution of a Parliament) and perhaps no legal notice neither. Our Juries are zealous to preserve the Innocent, and yours to ruin and destroy them. Ye see what manner of Spirit it is that actuates ye; and by the Fruits we can guests whether it be good or evil: it seems to us to breath forth nothing but Ruin, Murder, and Massacre. And, for your understanding, 'tis sufficiently shown, by your professing to believe a Protestant Plot (to Seize and Depose the King, and destroy the Government) without any other Circumstance proved, than that of a Joiner riding with Sword and Pistols to Oxford, who had used to ride so armed many years before; and yet ye have the face to deny a Popish Plot, (for the destruction of the King's Person and Government) after Coleman's Letters, and the others published by the Recorder (by command from the House of Commons); the Murder of Sir Edmundbury Godfrey, the Assassination of Mr. Arnold: After a general Report among the Jesuits in all foreign Popish Countries, of the Kings being dead (it seems they thought themselves cocksure) at the time Dr. Oates swears he was to be murdered here; and a multitude of other convincing Circumstances, which were of that force, that there were at least ten of the King's Proclamations that affirmed it, a public Fast was enjoined for it, and three successive Parliaments, nemine contradicente, upon a full hearing of the Evidence, reading all the Letters, and weighing all the Circumstances, declared it to be a horrid Conspiracy against the King's Life and Government What impudence or stupidity is this, let the world judge! Now, Tories, fare ye well; apply your heads to thinking a little, and do not, like young Whelps, run away with a false Scent, and cry out Forty One and Ignoramus; and in time ye may be wiser; and let your Poet know, that the first occasion he gives, he shall hear from us farther. THE MEDAL OF John Bays: OR, A satire upon Folly and Knavery. HOw long shall I endure, without reply, To hear this * His Name in the Rehearsal. Bays, this Hackney-rayler lie? The fool uncudgelled, for one Libel swells, Where not his Wit, but Sauciness excels; Whilst with foul Words and Names which he lets fly, He quite defiles the Satyr's Dignity. For Libel and true satire different be; This must have Truth, and Salt, with Modesty. Sparing the Persons, this does tax the Crimes, Gall's not great Men, but Vices of the Times▪ With Witty and Sharp, not blunt and bitter times▪ Methinks the Ghost of Horace there I see, Lashing this Cherry-cheeked Dunce of Fifty three; Who, at that age, so boldly durst profane, With base hired Libel, the free Satyr's Vein. Thou stillest it satire, to call Names, Rogue, Whore, Traitor, and Rebel, and a thousand more. An Oysterwench is sure thy Muse of late, And all thy Helicon's at Billingsgate. A Libelers vile name then may'st thou gain, And moderately the Writing part maintain, None can so well the beating part sustain. Though with thy Sword, thou art the last of Men, Thou art a damned Boroski with thy Pen. As far from satire does thy Talon lie, As from being cheerful, or good company. For thou art * In his Dramatic Essay. Saturnine, thou dost confess; A civil word thy Dulness to express. An old gelt Mastiff has more mirth than thou, When thou a kind of paltry Mirth wouldst show. Good humour thou so awkwardly puttest on, It sits like Modish Clothes upon a Clown; While that of Gentlemen is brisk and high, When Wine and Wit about the room does fly. Thou never mak'st, but art a standing Jest; Thy Mirth by foolish Bawdry is expressed; And so debauched, so fulsome, and so odd, As— Let's Bugger one another now by G—d. (When asked how they should spend the Afternoon) This was the smart * At Windsor, in the company of several persons of Quality, Sir G. E. being present. reply of the Heroic Clown. He boasts of Vice (which he did ne'er commit) Calls himself Whoremaster and Sodomite; Commends Reeve's Arse, and says she Buggers well; And silly Lies of vicious pranks does tell. This is a Sample of his Mirth and Wit, Which he for the best Company thinks fit. In a rich Soil, the sprightly Horse y'have seen, Run, leap, and wanton o'er the flowery green, Prance, and curvet, with pleasure to the sight; But it could never any eyes delight, To see the frisking frolicks of a Cow; And such another merry thing art Thou. In Verse, thou hast a knack, with words to chime, And hadst a kind of Excellence in Rhyme: With Rhymes like leading-strings, thou walk'dst; but▪ those Laid by, at every step thou brok'st thy Nose. How low thy Farce! and thy blank Verse how mean! How poor, how naked did appear each Scene! Even thou didst blush at thy insipid stuff, And laid thy dulness on poor harmless Snuff. No Comic Scene, or humour hast thou wrought; Thou'st quibbling Bawdy, and ill breeding taught; But Rime's sad downfall has thy ruin brought. No Piece did ever from thyself begin; Thou canst no web, from thine own bowels, spin. Were from thy Works culled out what thou'st purloined, Even D—fey would excel what's left behind. Should all thy borrowed plumes we from thee tear, How truly * The Name given him by the Earl of Rochester. Poet Squab wouldst thou appear! Thou call'st thyself, and Fools call thee, in Rhyme, The goodly Prince of Poets, of thy time; And sovereign power thou dost usurp, John Bayes, And from all Poets thou a Tax dost raise. Thou plunder'st all, t'advance thy mighty Name, Look'st big, and triumphest with thy borrowed fame: But art (while swelling thus thou think'st thouart Chief) A servile Imitator and a Thief † Oh imitatores servum pecus! . All written Wit thou seizest on as prise; But that will not thy ravenous mind suffice; Though men from thee their inward thoughts conceal, Yet thou the words out of their mouths wilt steal. How little owe we to your Native store, Who all you write have heard or read before? Except your Libels, and there's something new; For none were ere so impudent as you. Some Scoundrel Poetasters yet there be, Fools that Burlesque the name of Loyalty, Who by reviling Patriots, think to be From louziness and hunger ever free: But will (for all their hopes of swelling bags) Return to Primitive nastiness and rags. These are blind Fools: thou hadst some kind of sight, Thou sinnest against thy Conscience and the Light. After the * In Rose-Alley. drubs, thou didst of late compound, And sold for th'weight in Gold each bruise & wound, Clear was thy sight, and none declaimed then more ▪ 'Gainst Popish Plots, and Arbitrary Power. The Ministers thou bluntly wouldst assail, And it was dangerous to hear thee rail. (Oh may not England stupid be like thee! Heaven grant it may not feel before it see.) Now he recants, and on that beating thrives: Thus Poet Laureates, and Russian Wives, Do strangely upon beating mend their Lives. But how comes Bayes to flag and grovel so? Sure your new Lords are in their payments slow. Thou deserv'st whipping thou'rt so dull, this time, Thou'st turned the Observator into Rhyme. But thou suppliest the want of Wit and Sense, With most malicious Lies, and Impudence. At Cambridge first your scurrilous Vein began, When saucily you traduced a † A Lords Son, and all Nobleman's Sons, are called Noblemen there. Nobleman, Who for that Crime rebuked you on the head, And you had been Expelled had you not fled. The next step of Advancement you began, Was being Clerk to Nolls Lord Chamberlain, A Sequestrator and Committee-man. There all your wholesome Morals you sucked in, And got your Gentile Gaiety and Mien. Your Loyalty you learned in Cromwel's Court, Where first your Muse did make her great effort. On him you first showed your Poetic strain, * See his Poem upon Oliver.— And wisely he essayed to staunch the Blood by breathing of a Vein. And praised his opening the Basilick Vein. And were that possible to come again, Thou on that side wouldst draw thy slavish Pen. But he being dead, who should the slave prefer, He turned a Journeyman t'a † Mr. Herringman, who kept him in his House for that purpose. Bookseller; Writ Prefaces to Books for Meat and Drink, And as he paid, he would both write and think. Then by th'assistance of a * Sir R. H. who kept him generously at his own House. Noble Knight, Th'hadst plenty, ease, and liberty to write. First like a Gentleman he made thee live; And on his Bounty thou didst amply thrive. But soon thy Native swelling Venom rose, And thou didst him, who gave thee Bread, expose. 'Gainst him a scandalous Preface didst thou write, Which thou didst soon expunge, rather than fight. (When turned away by him in some small time) You in the People's ears began to chime, And please the Town with your successful Rhyme. When the best Patroness of Wit and Stage, The Joy, the Pride, the wonder of the Age, Sweet Annabel the good, great, witty, fair; (Of all this Northern Court, the brightest Star) Did on thee, Bays, her sacred beams dispense, Who could do ill under such influence? She the whole Court brought over to thy side, And favour flowed upon thee like a Tide. To her thou soon prov'dst an * When he had thrice broken his Word, Oath, and Bargain with Sir William Davenant, ●he wrote a Letter to this great Lady to pass her word for him to Sir William, who would not take his own; which she did. In his Letter he wished God might never prosper him, his Wife or Children, if he did not keep his Oath and Bargain; which yet in two Months he broke, as several of the Duke's Playhouse can testify. ungrateful Knave; So good was she, not only she forgave, But did oblige anew, the faithless Slave. And all the Gratitude he can afford, Is basely to traduce her Princely Lord. A Hero worthy of a Godlike Race, Great in his Mind, and charming in his Face, Who conquers Hearts, with unaffected Grace. His mighty Virtues are too large for Verse, Gentle as billing Doves, as angry Lions fierce: His Strength and Beauty so united are, Nature designed him Chief, in Love and War. All Lovers Victories he did excel, Succeeding with the beauteous Annabel. Early in Arms his glorious course began, Which never Hero yet so swiftly ran. Wherever danger showed its dreadful face, By neverdying acts, h'adorned his Royal Race. Sure the three Edward's Souls beheld with Joy, How much thou out didst Man, when little more than Boy. And all the Princely Heroes of thy Line, Rejoiced to see so much of their great Blood in thine. So good and so diffusive is his Mind, So loving to, and loved by Humane kind, He was for vast and general good designed. In's height of Greatness he all eyes did glad, And never Man departed from him sad. Sweet and obliging, easy of access, Wise in his Judging, courteous in address. o'er all the Passions he bears so much sway, No Stoic taught 'em better to obey. And, in his Suffering part, he shines more bright, Than he appeared in all that gaudy light. Now, now, methinks he makes the bravest show, And ne'er was greater Hero than he's now. For public 〈…〉 wealth and power forsakes, Over 〈…〉 conquest makes. 〈…〉 to him are dear; And 〈…〉 dares appear. 'Tis 〈…〉 in the breach, 'Gainst 〈…〉, and furious Parsons preach. Were't not 〈…〉, how soon some Popish Knife Might rob us of his Royal Father's Life! We to their fear of thee that blessing owe▪ In such a Son, happy Great King art thou, Who can defend, or can revenge thee so. Next, for thy Medal, Bays, which does revile The wisest Patriot of our drooping Isle, Who Loyally did serve his Exiled Prince, And with the ablest Council blest him since; None more than he did stop Tyrannic Power, Or, in that Crisis, did contribute more, To his Just Rights our Monarch to restore; And still by wise advice, and Loyal Arts, Would have secured him in his Subjects Hearts. You own the Mischiefs, sprung from that Intrigue, Which fatally dissolved the Tripple-League. Each of your Idol mock-Triumv'rate knows, Our Patriot strongly did that Breach oppose. Nor did this Lord a Dover-Journey go, * Bays his own expression, Medal, pag. 5. From thence our tears, the Ilium of our woe. Had he that Interest followed, how could he By those that served it then discarded be? The French and Papists well his Merits know; Were he a friend, they'd not pursued him so: From both he would our beset King preserve, For which he does Eternal wreaths deserve. His Life they first, and now his Fame would take, For Crimes they forge, and secret Plots they make. They by hired Witnesses the first pursue, The latter by vile Scribblers hired like you. Thy Infamy will blush at no disgrace, (With such a hardened Conscience, and a Face) Thou only want'st an Evidences place. When th' Isle was drowned in a Lethargic sleep, Our vigilant Hero still a watch did keep. When all our strength should have been made a Prey To the Lewd Babylonish Dalilah, Methinks I see our watchful Hero stand, Jogging the Nodding Genius of our Land; Which sometime struggling with sleeps heavy yoke, Awaked, stared, & looked grim, and dreafully he spoke. The voice filled all the Land, and then did fright The Scarlet Whore from all her works of night. But— With unseen strengths at home, and Foreign Aid, Too soon She rallied, and began t'invade, And many Nets she spread, and many Toils she laid. To lull us yet asleep, what pains she takes! But all in vain, for still our Genius wakes. And now remembers well the * April. 75. dangerous Test, Which might have all our Liberty oppressed, Had not the covered snare our Hero found, And for some time bravely maintained the ground, Till others saw the bondage was designed, And late with them their straggling Forces joined. A † Anno 76. Bill then drawn by B— did we see, A zealous Bill against— for Popery. Then Murdered Godfrey, a loved Princes blood, Ready with precious drops to make a purple-flood. When Popish Tyranny shall give command, And spread again its darkness o'er the Land. Then Bloody Plots we find laid at their door, Than whom none e'er have done or suffered more, Or, would to save the Prince they did restore. Amidst these hellish Snares, 'tis time to wake; May never more a sleep our Genius take. These things did soon our glorious City warm, And for their own, and Prince's safety arm. The Joy of ours, Terror of other Lands, With moderate Head, with unpolluted Hands, To which the Prince and People safety owe, From which the uncorrupted streams of Justice flow. Through thickest clouds of Perjury you see, And ne'er by Hackney-Oaths deceived will be Resolved to value Credibility. Thou vindicat'st the Justice of thy Prince, Which shines most bright by clearing Innocence. While some would Subjects of their Lives bereave, By Witnesses themselves could ne'er believe, Though wrongly accused, yet at their Blood they aim, And, as they were their Quarry, think it shame Not to run down, and seize the trembling Game. Thy Justice will hereafter be renowned, Thy lasting name for Loyalty be crowned. When 'twill be told who did our Prince restore, Whom thou with zeal, didst ever since adore. How oft hast thou his Princely wants supplied? And never was thy needful aid denied. How long his Kindness with thy Duty strove! Great thy Obedience, and as great his Love; And cursed be they who would his Heart remove. Thou (still the same) with equal zeal wilt serve; Maintain his Laws, his Person wilt preserve. But some foul Monsters thy rich womb does bear, That, like base Vipers, would thy bowels tear; Who would thy ancient Charters give away, And all thy stronger Liberties betray: Those Elder Customs our great Ancestors Have from the Saxon times conveyed to ours. Of which no personal Crimes a loss can cause, By Magna Charta backed, and by succeeding Laws. This is the Factious Brood we should pursue: For as in Schism, so in Sedition too, The Many are deserted by the Few. These Factious Few, for bitter scourges fit, (To show Addressing and Abhorring Wit) Set up a Jack of Lent, and throw at it. But those, alas, false silly measures take, Who of the Few an * Their Addressing is plainly making an Association. Association make. Thou needest not doubt to triumph o'er these Fools, These blindly led, these Jesuited Tools; Whilst bravely thou continu'st to oppose, All would be Papists, as all Romish Foes. In spite of lawless men, and * See the Chancellor's Excellent Speech before the Sentence on the Lord Stafford. Popish flames, (Enriched by thy much loved and bounteous Thames) May into thee the Wealth of Nations flow, And to thy height all Europe's Cities bow. Thou great support of Princely Dignity! And Bulwark to the People's Liberty! If a good Mayor with such good Shrieves appear, Nor Prince, nor People, need a danger fear: And such we hope for each succeeding year. Thus thou a Glorious City may'st remain, And all thy Ancient Liberties retain, While Albion is surrounded with the Main. Go, Abject Bays! and act thy slavish part; Fawn on those Popish Knaves, whose Knave thou art: 'Tis not ill writing, or worse Policy, That can enslave a Nation, so long free. Our King's too good to take that rugged course; He'll win by kindness, not subdue by force. If King of Slaves and Beasts, not Men he'd be, A Lion were a greater Prince than he. Approach him then, let no malicious Chit, No insolent Prater, nor a flashy Wit, Impeachments make not men for Statesmen sit. But— Truth, Judgement, Firmness, and Integrity, With long experience, quick sagacity, Swift to prevent, as ready to foresee; Knowing the depths from which all action springs, And by a Chain of causes judging things: That does all weights into the balance cast, And wisely can foretell the future, by the past. Where ere such virtuous qualities appear, They're Patriots worthy of a Prince's ear, To Him and Subjects they'll alike be dear. The Kings and People's Interest they'll make one. What personal greatness can our Monarch own, When hearts of Subjects must support the Throne! And Ministers should strive those hearts t'unite, Unless they had a mind to make us fight. Who by Addresses thus the Realm divide, (All bonds of Kindred, and of Friends untied) Have in effect, in Battle ranged each side. But Heaven avert those Plagues which we deserve: Intestine Jars, but Popish ends can serve. How false, and dangerous Methods do they take, Who would a King but of Addressers make! They from Protection would throw all the rest, And poorly narrow the King's Interest. To make their little Party too, seem great, They with false Musters, like the Spaniards, cheat. He's King of all, and would have all their Hearts, Were't not for these dividing Popish arts. Statesmen who his true Interest would improve, Compute his Greatness, by his People's Love: That may assist our Friends, and Foes o'ercome; So much he will be feared Abroad, as loved at Home. He at the People's Head, may great appear, As th' Edward's, Henry's, and Eliza were. And cursed be they who would that Power divide, Who would dissolve that Sacred knot by which they're tied. Those Miscreants who hate a Parliament, Would soon destroy our Ancient Government. Those Slaves would make us fit to be o'ercome, And gladly sell the Land to France, or Rome. But Heaven preserve our Legal Monarchy, And all those Laws that keep the People free. Of all Mankind, for ever cursed be they, Who would or Kings, or People's Rights betray, Or aught would change, but by a Legislative way. Be damned the most abhorred, and Traitorous Race, Who would the best of Governments deface. Now farewell wretched Mercenary Bays, Who the King Libelled, and did Cromwell praise. Farewell, abandoned Rascal! only fit To be abused by thy own scurrilous Wit. Which thou wouldst do, and for a Moderate Sum, Answer thy Medal, and thy Absolont. Thy piteous Hackney-Pen shall never fright us, thou'rt dwindled down to Hodge, and Heraclitus. Go, Ignoramus cry, and Forty One, And by * A Coffee-house where the Inferior Crape-gown-men meet with their Guide Roger, to invent Lies for the farther carrying on the Popish-Plot. sam's Parsons be thou praised alone. Pied thing! half Wit! half Fool! and for a Knave, Few Men, than this, a better mixture have: But thou canst add to that, Coward and Slave. FINIS.