A satire, OCCASIONED BY THE AUTHOR'S SURVEY OF a Scandalous Pamphlet Entitled, The King's Cabinet Opened.  
OXFORD, Printed by LEONARD LICHFIELD, Printer to the University, 1645.   

A satire.  

WHen Laws and Princes are despised, and cheap,  
When High-pitcht Mischiefs all are in the heap;  
Returns must still be had; Gild must strive more,  
Though not to ' Ennoble, yet to ' Enlarge her store.  
Poor Cheap Designs! the Rebel now must fly  
To Packet-Warre, to Paper-Treacherie.  
The Basilisks are turned to Closset-Spies,  
And to their Poisonous add Enquiring Eyes.  
As Snakes and Serpents should they cast their sting,  
Still the same Hate, though not same Poison fling;  
And their Vain teeth to the same point address,  
With the like Rancour, though unlike Success:  
So those that into undiscerning veins,  
Have thrown their Venom deep, and their dark stains,  
By frail Advantages, still find it good,  
To keep th' Infection high i'th' People's Blood.  
For Active Treason must be Doing still:  
Lest she Unlearn her Art of Doing iii.  
Who now have waded through all Public awe,  
Will break through Secrets, & profane Their Law.  
Know you that would Their Act and Statute see,  
Nature kept Court, and made it her Decree.   

When Angels talk, all their Conceits are brought  
From Mind to Mind, and they discourse by Thought.  
A Close Idaea moves, and Silence flies  
To post the Message, and dispatch Replies.  
And though Ten Legions, in the Round are bend,  
They only hear, to whom the Talk was meant.  
Now, though in Men a  Law controls,  
And Souls are not Ambassadors to Souls:  
Nature gave Reason power to find a way,  
Which none but these durst venture to betray.  
" Two close safe Paths she did bequeath to men,  
" In Presence, Whisper; and at Distance, Penne.  
Public Decrees and Thoughts were else the same,  
Nor were it to Converse, but to Proclaim.  
Conceits were else Records, but by this care,  
Our Thoughts no Commons, but Enclosures are:  
What bold Intruders than are who assail,  
To cut their Prince's Hedge, and break His Pale!  
That so Unmanly gaze, and dare be seen  
Even then, when He converses with His Queen?   

Yet, as who breaks the Tall Banks Rising Side,  
And all the Shore doth levy with the Tide,  
Doth not confine the Waves to any Bound,  
But the whole Stream may gain upon the Ground;  
So these, straight Prospect scorn, and Private View,  
" The Crime is small that doth engage a Few.  
These Print their shame, they must Complete their Sin:  
Not take some Waves, and shut the Sluice again.  
But, to the Raging of their Sea, they do  
Let in the Madness of the People too.   

But, 'cause the Crime must wear a Mask and Veil,  
And feign the Serpent would conceal his Tail.  
No sooner comes the Libel to our view,  
But see a stayed, demure, grave Preface too:  
Which seems to show they would not thus intrude,  
Nor press so fare but for the Public Good.  
But as some London Beggars use to stand,  
In Grecians Coats with Papers in their hand,  
Who are (as them in  parts we meet)  
English at Home, but solemn Greeks i'th' street.  
Of whom unclothed, and when the truth is heard,  
Constantinople only knows the Beard.  
So this sly Masker, lay its Tinsel by,  
Is only Painted Zeal, and Pageantry.   

We need not let our satire here compute,  
How it profanes God in his Attribute.   


See the Preface.  But, for its Light it need no Bushel call,  
A Semestresse Thimble would Eclipse it all.   

O! in what weakness it pretends to creep,  
How well the Tiger personates the Sheep.   

It not Returns ill Language to the King,  
Though the next Lines the Psalms against Him bring.  
Then it to th' Business comes, and lets us know,  
Who reads it either is its Friend, or Foe.  
If Friend, the Scandals all must true appear:  
If Foe (alack the man is ne'er the near.)  
Foe no light moves, no Miracles like these,  
he'll ' say they're not the Kings too if he please,  
And tell us pray, why mayn't your last words stand,  
You sergeant His Seal, why not His Hand?  
But to admit. We now deduce and bring,  
What after Notes clearly imply o'th' King.   

First, They His Consort from His Secrets wrest:  

See the first Annotation.  They do allow the King, but not the Breast.  
The Sacred Knott must have a Tie and Force,  
To join their Hands, but yet their Thoughts Divorce.  
And, as the Ivy weds her Consort-Tree,  
Though joined and close their chaste Embraces be,  
Yet in those Twines and Circuits we can find,  
No Traffic, no Commerce of Mind with Mind:  
So must the Sacred Laws of Marriage pierce,  
Here she may Sprout, and Grow, but not Converse.  
And like a Plant removed by ' Grafters toil,  
She finds, not Nuptials, but a change of Soil.  
England to th' Queen Transplanted thus must prove,  
No Foreign Kingdom, but a Foreign Grove.   

But, lest this groundless seem, they Reasons vex,  
And tell the World she's of the Weaker Sex.  
In what wild Brains this Madness first begun!  
They're wondrous angry, 'cause the Queens no Man.  
Fond Sirs forbear, do not the world perplex:  
Reason and Judgement are not things of Sex.  
Souls and their Faculties were never heard,  
To be confined to th' Doublet, and the Beard.  
Consult one Age from this, and you shall find  
A Queen the Glory of your Annals shined.  
But who to fare and distant Objects flies,  
Must say the Sun wants Lustre or He Eyes.  
Our Present Injured Queen returns that store,  
And doth again, what could be done before:  
By the King's Judgement, shows Her own is Right,  
And still she meets His Ray with her own Light.   

Thus the Wise King to Sheba's Queen was known,  
Who knew Him Wise, by Wisdom of her Own.  
But as all Public knowledge barred must be,  

See on in the first Annotation.  So Houshold-Acts must have their Mystery:  
No circumstance can pass, no Servant made,  
But must be wrapped in silence and close shade.  
One place in Court a Riddle must afford,  
Worthy a secret Sibyl's dark Record.   


See the 2. Annotat  As the King's acts must all Their limits prove,  
So their Restraint and Rains must check his Love.  
Esteems of's Consort by their pitch must fly,  
Nor must He Rate His Dear Queen's Health too high.  
He must affect thus fare, and then no more;  
His Tides must be proportioned to their shore;  
His Tenderness their Weights and Balance wear,  
By Grains and Scruples they confine His Care,  
But (Savage) know, there can no Ransom be   


See the 3. Annotat.  Poised with the Health of such a Queen as she.  
She that at once such weighty Acts can do,  
That can be Queen, and yet Negotiate too.  
Send, and be sent, and without more demur,  
Be both the Queen, and Her Ambassador.  
That gives dispatch for Ships, and when she please,  
Divides the Empire with the Queen o'th' Seas.  
Who dares the Threats of any danger stand,  
The stubborn Rock, or the Devouring Sand.  
And though the Sea swell like Her fate, and Grave,  
Look at her Consort, and despise the Wave.   

The Captive Queen did (thus) the Tyrant tell,  
I am no Captive so my King be well.  

Q. curtius lib. 3.  By these, her worth and Rate is faintly known,  
Past stories blush when she erects Her own.  
Search old Grey Annals, you may find at length,  
Some Queen in Vigour, and her mid day strength.  
Who in her Injured Consort's cause, refers  
To Copies glancing at these Acts of Hers;  
But if Infirm and Sickly Queens we scan,  
No story patterns Her, None ever can.  
Show us a Queen fraught with such wide Affairs,  
Here private Weakness, there a Kingdoms Cares,  
Perplexed and tortured from her Rest and ease,  
By a Rebellion here, there a Disease:  
Advice, and Medicines at one time we view,  
A Councell-Bord, Board of Physicians too:  
Yet her Capacious Soul both these defeats,  
While this Hand holds Instructions, that Receipts.   

These are our famed Queens Crimes, but yet one more  

See the 3. Annotat.  Must be the main Ingredient of the Store.  
Which seems to press so deep, there's nought so bright,  
But this may sully all its Lustre quite.  
'Tis Her Religion's Care: She tries Her Powers,  
To keep that still. Do not we so for Ours?  
Why to one Face so  shapes have been?  
What Virtue is in Us, in Her, is Sin.  
Our  Faith's did long together grow,  
And neither suffered, neither loss did know:  
And like a stream, which 'twixt two fields doth flow,  
Which as it Moistens, so Divides them too:  
So did the Kingdom's Law throw Dew and growth,  
In weight and just proportion unto both,  
And like a parting Current slide along,  
To keep them wide, that neither neither Wrong.  
Our Faith's were then but Two, but since a spirit  
So many Mushrome-Sects raised in a Night:  
The Protestant (as she could Parties gain  
Who unconcerned were in the dregs and stain,)  
Did recommend her Votaries, and bring  
Her Faith to its Defendor, our Just King.  
Who with such Zeal hath kept her Rites entire,  
As well from Languishing, as from strange Fire:  
That still the Censer savours its true Sent,  
Without Accession; yet no Perfume spent.  
The happy Martyrs find their Faith hath stood  
In Him, as when they bathed it in their blood.  
They joy to see, that He his God adores  
Nor at High-Places, nor at Threshing-Floores.  
But 'spight of Scandals, pays his homage still  
In the Just Beauty of the Sion-Hill.   

To Other Sects; though as in Common-Feilds  
Which Swine, and Horses, Mules, and Oxen yields,  
Who though at Distance feed, Approaching, clash,  
And Disproportioned shapes together dash  
So they, though one Rebellion them sustain  
Themselves Accuse, and are Accused again.  
Can they comply, then possibly might dwell  
Some faint Agreement, though no Peace in Hell.  

See the 4. Annotation.  Now, these nice Tastes no Foreign aids endure,  
(Their Rebel Scots, are English Rebels sure.)  
No, nor the Papists: much it with them sticks,  
Lest these men's Poniard's, should be Heretics:  
Their souls would be Profaned, and clean undun,  
Should they be slain by an Idolatrous Gun.  
Go lay your Vizard by, your Masking stuff,  
The Devil is tired, and Hell hath laughed enough:  
The world descries the Cheat; 'tis quickly known  
They not Faith hate, who have Resolved on None.  
These may not fight: that is, the King you'd have  
Tamely forsake his Crown, and be your Slave,  
His Easier Subjects long ago you gart,  
All who approved your Bait, and swallow that.  
Indeed, Discerning souls the snare forsook,  
And through the Wave did still descry the Hook;  
But yet so close designs were cast about,  
Your Race was half run ere the King set out.  
Yet you complain, and guilty fears do gnaw,  
Lest you should scanted be for Space and Law:  
Conscious, though you your cause did forward meet.  
It's Gild and Sin hangs Plummets at its feet.   

Are not the Jews, Walloons, the Turks, and all  
Whom from as  Gods as Lands you call,  
An Army strong to keep the cause in heart,  
But that the King must with His Subjects part?  
Can no Accession so much safety send,  
But you will dread Him still before you end?   

Some times at Ebbs his God doth let Him stand,  

See on in the 4. Annotation.  That so the Rescue may declare His hand.  
But, what (you hope) may make the King's side pause,  
Is what He writes about the Penal Laws.  
Poor, shallow souls! I deem it one from hence  
To forfeit Loyalty, and forfeit Sense.   

Shall such as waste their Blood be quite debarred,  
And kept without the Pale from all Reward?  
Shall fame Report, shall after Ages tell,  
So Just King regards not who do well?   

But you pretend, this was a State-Decree,  
Not without Power which made may cancelled be.  
The King never says it shall: but cannot doubt  
That when His God hath brought His work about,  
And shifted jars and Tumults into Ease,  
And seat him 'midest his Council in High Peace:  
Their joint united suffrage will think fit,  
To give this Act; or something Great as it.   


See on in the 4. Annotation.  But see, His Pardon then to Ireland came,  
(Wild Rebels) offers He not you the same?  
He holds still out the same fresh cheerful Ray,  
You shut your Windows and exclude the Day.   

Embrace the shine, or else expect the stroke:  
The Flint the Sun ne'er melts, at last is brook,  
But now the Floodgates op', 
See on.  and a free Sluice,  
Let's in all Senseless Doctrines, and wild Use.  
And by Comparing what's said long ago,  
Finds Disproportion in the King's Acts now.  
His past Resolves it up to Present brings,  
His Vows to Vows, and Things to combat Things.  
A  face throughout, and a fresh Scene  
Succeeds: and all his Acts seem shifted clean.  
Weak men! who are deprived by Gild or chance,  
Of all the lights of Common Circumstance;  
That have unlearned that Actions shift their Face,  
And date their worth from Persons, Time, and Place,  
And sundry such, from whose Neglects appear  
Acts as Sins there, which are Tried Virtues here.  
For instance then: oft as the King reflects  
His Oath's enjoin; His People He protects.  
Which Oaths extent, and Circuit we may view  
Spread over th' Five Execrable Members too.  
Yet (fare as't them concerns) that Chain is broke,  
That Oath left Him, because they left His Yoke.  
Now of this Pitch, and Size, do still appear,  
All Airy Scruples which are starred there.   

The King Declared, He thought you meant no Ill  
Say, would you the King Declareso still?   

Allow but  Circumstance, and we  
Find, all your Scandals will His Glories be.  
Now, as the worst things have some things of stead,  
And some Toads treasure Jewels in their Head.  
So doth this Libels Womb girt, and contain  
What though it compass Round it cannot stain.  
Lines of so clear, yet so Majestic strame,  
A most Transparent, yet a close-wove Vein.  
Which when we reach its Sense, we may descry  
We see more by its Light, than our own Eye.   

So Phoebus (when the Cloud and Night is done)  
Lends us his Light to know he is the Sun.  
Yet this expressive Clearness is but bark,  
An Outside▪ Sun which guards us from the dark.  
Here, the Bright Language shuts in Brighter sense,  
Rich Diamonds sleep within a Crystal Fence.  
Gems of that rate, to Tully they'd appear  
Fit Purchase for his Critic Senates Eare.  
And their whole Shine in a full Lustre tends  
To God, His Conscience, Consort, and His Friends.   

THE CLOSE.  

No winding Characters, no secret Maze  
Can so perplex, but they have found their ways:  
They thread the Labyrinth: and what to do?  
Where tends the Guide? what purchase in this Clew?  

Q. Curtius lib. 3.  Rash Alexander forced King Gordius Knott,  
And so in hand found he a Rope had got.    
FINIS.