Vaticinium Votivum: OR, PALAEMON'S prophetic PRAYER. Lately presented Privately To His now majesty In a Latin Poem; and here Published in English. To which is annexed a Paraphrase on Paulus Grebnerus' prophecy. With several ELEGIES ON Charles the FIRST. The Lord Capel. The Lord Francis Villiers. TRAJECTI. Anno CAROLI MARTYRIS primo. EPIGRAMMA. REGUM Progenies, cujus Diademate nascens Fulsit apex triplici, quem Tria Sceptra colunt: Quem tria Sceptra colunt Te sors tamen invidet illis; Arcétque à Patrio Gens mal●-fida Sinu. Macte animis, sic fata jubent quae stamina Magni Imperii, occultâ sed ratione, trahunt. Extorri sic Dulichio sua Regna videre, Non nisi post long as illa dedêre vices: Ac variis debet terraeque marisque periclis Quicquid ei famae secula longa dabunt. Natus Maii 29. Ano. 1630. Aetatis suae 19 To His majesty. SIR, WIth truce to Your more serious Contemplations, my humble Muse hath here presumed to rekiss Your highness' Hands, and once more wait on Your noble Recreations. When she received her first admission into your princely Presence, she was but in the Nonage of her minority, and indeed in her first Coats; upon these her second Addresses to Your Court, she hath put on her Richer robes of State; and for her Convoie, she hath made Choice of some Persons of honour both to attend and bear up her Train. With her Habit too, she hath altered her Speech; and she that the last year Courted Your majesty in Latin only, hath now varied her Tone, and breathed forth her duty in a double Dialect. This Ode (as I may call it) which was then warbled only with a single voice, is now Set in Parts, and tuned in a sweeter symphony by a select Chore and Consort of the Muses. I hope no jarring or disagreeing Notes here will sound harsh in Your Harmonious ears; if they should, I shall be very sorry that I have touched the Lyre, and the next Lesson shall begin and end in my own Recantation. 'Tis true, I must confess the Shrine to which these Poems are consecrated, is too Magnificent; and the whole miscellany of these Paper-Oblations is too too mean: let them therefore be Burnt, and the Flame of them may happily lend me light enough to see mine own Error, and their Presumption. In a word; the whole Woof and Warp of these Fancies is weaved and wound up in the Pious Ejaculations of Your majesty's Liege People, the epiphenonema of whose pathetic and Votive Acclamations, is a serious prayer for the Advance of Your Sacred majesty, and Your Glorious Inauguration. The Popular and spreading Sparkles of this Zeal, which have kindled Beacons and bonfires of Devotion in the hearts of Your Three Kingdoms, have in me begot a sublimer Flame of duty, which hath been both fed and raised by the Fuel and Fomentation of Your princely favours. In this Flame I here humbly Offer up the Incens of these prayers at the Glorious Altar of Your Great Name; and in this better Sacrifice of Obedience, I most submissively acquiesce SIR, The humblest of Your majesty's most loyal, and most sincerely devoted Subjects PALAEMON. — Quo non manet observantior alter Imperiis REX magne Tuis.— Serenissimo Augustissimóque Principi CAROLO Secundo, &c. Prooemium. REX sacer auspiciis Sceptri felicibus orte! Sola salus Populi, deliciúmque DEI! Quem Figulus magni elegit Supremus Olympi Vas speciale sibi, vas generale suis. Magna Patris magni Soboles! spes alta Britannis, Regius Augustos cui dedit ortus Avos. Ipse ego quae vestris suffundam carmina Sceptris? O quae Te magno CAROLE digna Precer! Vive diu felix; sis Te felicior; aevi, Nulla nec Imperii terminet hora Tui. Exupera meritis Augustum, Nestora seclis, Nervam laude, Numam Pace, favore Titum. In spes cresce novas, quot profert messis Aristas, Vel quot odoriferas terra refundit opes. Cresce, impléque Tuis totum Virtutibus orbem; Albion auspiciis Olbion ipsa Tuis. Dum tibi multiplices superaddant Fata Coronas Et Tibi quot Terrae, tot famulentur Aquae. Au Roy de la grand Bretaigne. CHARLES II. ODE. DIeux, Protecteurs de l' Innocence, Powés vous encor resister; A faire bien tost é clatter Les foudres de vostre vengeance? N'aues vous pas assez tenté; De fléchir par l' Impunité Ces âmes pleines de Malice? Et n'est il pas bien tost saison De faire agir vostre Justice Puis qu'on foule aux pieds la Raison? 2. je scay bien que vostre Tonnerre, Gronde long temps sur les Humains, Auant q'uil parte de vos mains Pour venir foudroyer la Terre: Les hauts chesnes sont menacez, Premier que d'estre terrassez Par les sé coucesses des tempestes; Et je scay que vostre Bonté Ne frappe q'uà regret nos testes Des coups q'uelles ont merité. Place this between Folio 74, 75. 3. Mais lors que des Perfides Ames, Par leurs desseins audacieux, On porté jusque dans les Cieux Les éclats des Civilles Flâmes: Lors que jusques dans les Enfers Ils ont esté chercher des fers, Afin d'armer Leurs Barbaries; Devez vous pas, Dieux Tout-puissans, Faire choir ces Noires Furies Aux Prieres des Innocens? 4. Desia de buict Hyuers les Marbres Brisent leurs crystaux inconstans. E'desia huit fois le Printemps Rend leur verte depouïlle aux arbres: Depuis que ces Caeurs de Rocher, Qui n'ont que la forme de chair, S'endurcissans dedans leurs crimes; Pillent sans restitution Trois Peuples, rendus les victimes De leur sanglante Ambition. Nul Sexe, Rang, ny Privilege, Du Roy jusques au Laboureúr, Ná peu décliner la fureur De leur Cruanté Sacrilege: Tous Aziles sont violez, Mille beaux Palais desolez De leur rage portent les marquess; Bref, leurs Complots noirs & méchans Ont lassé le Ciseau des Parques Dedans les Villes & les Champs. 6. Leur insatiable Avarice, S'attacquant mesme aux Immortels, De la dépouïlle des Autels A presque fait le Ciel complice: Car déguisant sa Lascheté Sous un masque de Pieté, Qui pour le fruit donne l'écorce: Elle ensorcelle la Raison, Et sous cette traitresse amorce Abbreuue l'ame de poison. 7. Mais c'est en vain, Race Maudite, Que pour colorer vos desseins, Dessous des visages de Saints Vous cachez un Caeur Hypocrite: Vostre Zele malicieux, Devant le Tribunal des Cieux Décowre à nud son imposture; C'est un Flot q'uon ne peut calmer; C'est un Feu, Duquel la Nature Ne prend plaisir quà consumer. 8. Puisse enfin ce Zele prophane, Leur faire avoir le mesme sort Du Grec, quia paya de sa mort Le Temple bruslé de Diane: Que leurs Noms demeurent fameux Dans la race de nos Neveux Parla honte de leurs Supplices; Et puisse la Posterité, Considerant leurs Precipices, Douter s'ils ont jamais esté. 9. Mais non: il faut que ton Histoire, CHARLES, Ressource de nos maux, Pour chef-daewre de Tes Travaux En éternise la Memoire: C'est la volonté des Destins Q'uon voye unjour sur ces mutins Ta juste Colere assouuie; Et que leur Fameux Chastiment Dedans le recit de Ta vie Trouue à jamais son monument. 10. Va donc, que le Ciel Te prospere, Contre ces Titans inhumains, Et consacre Tes jeunes Mains A vanger Le Sang de Ton PERE: O ROY! pour qui tout l'Vniuers Fait les mesmes veux que mes Vers, Te souhaittant des jours plus calmes: La rage de ces Aquilons Ne souffle, q'ua fin que Tes PALMES Croissent mieux sous leurs Tourbillons. De Regis Magnae Britanniae CAROLI I. in Insulam Vectim secessu, Obeunte Anno MDCXLVII. DUm propè septenum Civili in Marte Decembrem, Insula Magna, olim Pacis alumna, subit: Dum petit infando Sceptri pia jura Tumultu, Et ciet iratos in sua Vota Deos: Impia dum tutas CAROLO negat Anglia Sedes: Excipit Hunc parvo Vectis * Tunc enim putabatur Regis securitati invigilatura, & ab ejus partibus statura. amica sinu. Quid monstri hoc, Britones? Sol vester currit in ortum, Quaerit & Eoäs Phoebus anhelus aquas? Anne Thyestaeam nova monstra aequantia coenam Ipse fugit, radiis ut nocitura suis? Scilicet, & retrò hinc vobis patet omnia ferri, Vestráque in adversas currere fata vices. Definite infensos moniti jam temnere Divos; Sin minùs, aeternâ nocte cavete tegi. Ad Eundem. Postquam S. M. interfuisset in Insulae Vectis Conventûs tempore, circà finem Anni MDCXLVIII. HAud aliter laeto Phoebum post nubila spectat Lumine jam longo quassa carina Noto: Quàm me nunc Sacrae juvat oscula, CAROLE, dextrae Figere; quàm vultus posse videre tuos. O REX! venturis Pia quem Patientia seclis Commendat, Patriae prodit & esse Patrem. Nunc quoscunque volet nectat Fortuna labores, Sors mihi, Te viso, nulla nocere potest. Upon His majesty's Arrival at the Isle of Wight. LEt Turkey boast of Empire; France of Law; Venice of Site; Gold, India; Water, spa. Trade and Religions, London, Amsterdam; Of Greatness Florence; or the Tartar Cam. All these concentre in one spot, one span, The Isle of Wight, and Charles the isle of MAN. A MAN whose mind's above the Turkish Crest, A KING who makes good Laws, and keeps them best: A PRINCE who like to well-built Venice stands, In midst of Waters, yet in sight of Lands: Whose royal Breast's an India, where's a Mint Of Golden thoughts; base ones were ne'er coined in't. Whose Gift (as waters have a fame) can heal Th' Evil, Oh would it might the Common-weal! He trades not in Religions; yet own's one Professed by most, practised by Him, or none. Fortunate Isle! to thee ill fortune brings If not the Greatest, yet the Best of Kings. PALAEMONIS Vaticinium Votivum. ALtera vix reducem Floram spoliaverat Aestas, Exquo Caesareas, superatis fluctibus, Arces, Discordem fugiens Populum divisáque Regna, Liquerat, ut Gallos inviseret Inclytus hospes CAROLUS; & fati consors haec Regia proles Adstaret carae Genitrici, quam mala dudum Occultis laetata dolis Fortuna, tenebat Immeritis trinos jactatam cladibus annos, Liligeri excelsas ubi Sequana Principis arces Alluit, & Germana Dryas nemus incolit altum. 2. Illic dum variis sua PRINCEPS otia curis Exercet, Phoebique artes colit atque Dianae, Ludicra vel ficti tractat certamina Martis, (Quae x fata dabunt veros convertat in usus,) Dúmque pilae alterno modò tempus fallere jactu, Vel saltu juvat aut disco, vel fraena feroci Quadrupedi dare, vel circo componere gressus: Una magis grandes animos infixa remordet Altiùs & toto se volvit pectore cura, Quae vetat hunc placidos occurrens carpere somnos, Nutantis Patriae laesique Parentis imago. Ergò ubi lenta dies Fatorum ex ordine fulsit, Quâ Populo indicat poenas vindicta Rebelli, Et patiens nimiùm Pietas jubet addere coeptis Consiliis jam fessa manum, nè facta ruentis Sit rea & ipsa mali, si perstet parcere ferro, Flectere x rigidas nequeat Clementia mentes: Haud mora, quò sua fata vocant huc tendere cursu. 3. Dum verò amplexu properat discedere Matris Ille, Patrem volvens animo; discinditur aequis Partibus Illustris Pietas atque haeret utrique. Nota tamen Patris sors undique tristior urgens, Accelerat dubium: sicque impiger advolat oras Ad batauûm; atque (oculis vix dum lustrata) relinquit Littora, sollicitis ubi dudum Nereus undis Classem asservabat, grandique immania dorso Gestabat, multo sed non sine murmure, Monstra Quinque & bis septem, terrere valentia Phocas: Has nuper pia cura Dei, de gente rebelli Legitimum Justo tulit oblatura triumphum PRINCIPI, ut illa forent successûs omina fausti. His vectus, multo comitatu insignis & armis, CAROLUS alta petit, cedentiáque aequora sulcat. Tum vota ad Superos multo cum murmur defert, Explosóque quatit vicinum sulphur littus Machina, Coelicolûm cujus vox permeat arces. Exciti raucâ tritoneses aëra conchâ Implent, & Nymphae choreas circùm agmine ducunt, Gratóque exultant pressi sub pondere fluctus. 5. Et sic, Heroüm fidâ stipante caterv●, CAROLUS oppositas laeto alite tendit in oras. Tum verò Britonum, cui semper chara Tridentis Est & Tergemini Ponto inclyta gloria Sceptri, Littore prospiciens, oculis dum vela recedunt Et rapit aura rates, haec orsus vota PALAEMON. 6." Nereïdum Glau●ique cohors, tandem excipe laetas " PRINCIPIS Augusti Puppes. Vos ponite, venti, " Insanos fremitus; arctis vinctique catenis " Desinite in Pontum rabido saevire flagello, " Immanésque agitare iras: PAX regnet in undis: " Et placidi Britonas cingant fausto omine fluctus. " Ac veluti sacros x destinat edere foetus " halcyon, & Thetidi pullos committit amicae; " Sit vobis haec festa dies, quâ CAROLUS altum " Scandit & ulcisci laesos meditatus honores " Et Patris & Sceptri, Gentem & sedare rebellem, " Jamdudum optatos Pacis parat edere fructus. 7. O Regum soboles! cui nostra haec carmina surgunt, Parce precor magnis Tu paulum, CAROLE, curis. Sollicitúmque Tui carmen dignare faventi Lumine, & haec aures mereantur tangere sacras. Quae Tibi fatidico panduntur Apolline vota. I nunc, & Zephyro solùm comitante, carinis Scinde Tuis liquidos illaeso tramite sulcos, Subjectúmque Patris nunc credas Nerea Sceptris; Ille Tuum nam sternit iter, famuláque ministrat Puppibus ipse manu, nociturósque amovet imbres. O quàm se tali dignum laetatur honore, Séque oneri supponit ovans, non pube superbus, Quippe adeò fuit Heroüm queîs claruit Argos, Thessala x classis Phryxei littora Regis Diripuit, quamvis multa illos secula jactent, Et sint aeternis Astrorum nomina fastis Inserta, auratâ cum Puppe, & vellere rapto. Graecia nîl etenim, quâ vindice fulget Jason, Ficta tenet, veros quod PRINCIPIS aequet honores Aeternum noménque mei, quo clarus ab Indis Splendet ad Oceanum cui Phoebus lumina condit. 8. Macte igitur, facilémque Jovis sperato favorem Quò te fata vocant Regni, lacerique Penates. Nascitur ecce novum tibi vellus & altera Colchis: Sed famosa magis quàm quâ se Graecia jactat: Tangit enim Tua Caussa Deos hominésque vicissim, Atque decus laesae Themidis: dum saevit habenis Audaci violátque manu sacra jura Britannûm Gens fera laxatis; quam facta immanibus aequent Titanum Monstris, sua quos audacia fixit Et malè tentatum facinus radicibus Aetnae, Suppliciúmque dedit Cyclopum pascere flammas. Sic propriâ Haec Gens mole ruat, cui infanda superbo Consilia impulsu tantum suasere furorem; Martis ut in Patriam saevos accenderet ignes, Utqueministerio Regum atria sancta prophano Pollueret, vetitásque manu tractaret habenas Impiâ, & optaret caput inter nubila condi. 9 Vade ergò, Regum ô Soboles! & tuta pererrans Neptuni famulos fluctus, jam Numine dextro Utere; linque moras, nascentésque erige vires Et procerum & Populi, quorum spirantia cultum Pectora fida Tuum mala non infecit Erynnis, Sed mente intrepidâ Tua, CAROLE, fata sequuntur. 10. Certè, aut veridicâ nos lauro fallit Apollo, Nec valet obscuri secreta aperire futuri; Aut quas Eumenidum furialis dextera torsit Conjurata faces jamjam vanescere, nigris Condere séque antris video, simul atque coruscum Fulserit Augusti capitis jubar, & Tua notas Lux optata diu Britonum percusserit oras. Ac veluti, primos x Titan exerit ignes, Et Thetidis rubicunda sinus Aurora deaurat, Littus in oppositum noctis se lumina condunt, Praecipitántque fugam: medio vel summus in axe x stat, & aequalis partitur pensa diei, Luminis atque idem vitae dator; intima rursum Lustra colunt umbrásque ferae, lemurésque fugati Nocturnaeque striges repetunt feralia tecta: Sic simul ac Patrium rutilis lustraverit Orbem Sol novus hic radiis; vanescent saeva ferarum Portenta, illicitas dudum exercentia praedas, Atque fugam trepido rapient pede, séque nocentis Dira lues Erebi taciturnis condet in umbris. O quàm poeniteat sanctum hunc aliquando rebelli Sacrilegáque manu Sceptri violâsse decorem, Atque Caput Magni Sacrum tetigisse Parentis! x Tibi juncta Themis, coelo cum vindice, dextram Diriget, atque animis sua tandem sontibus addet Supplicia, & solvet Captivi vincula Regis. 11. Non meliùs Pietas olim laudata refulsit Illa Anchisiadae, x praemonstrante Sibyllâ Insignis ramo chari & genitoris amore, Umbrarum petiitque domos, campósque nitentis Elysii, & fecit sibi magnum in secula nomen. Sicut enim natum Phrygius dum suspicit Heros, Haec eadem Te verba manent: (x dextera victrix Littoris objecti minitantia claustra recludens, Quà jacet Oceano Vectis non fausta Britanno, Et Regi populos, Regem populisque reducet, Atque expulsa solo Britonum sua gaudia reddet: " Venisti tandem; Tuáque exspectata Parenti " Vicit iter durum Pietas? datur ora tueri " Nate Tua, & notas audire & reddere voces? " Sic equidem ducebam animo, rebárque futurum " Tempora dinumerans: nec me mea cura fefellit. " Quas ego Te terras & quanta per aequora victum " Accipio? Quantis jactatum Nate periclis! " Quàm metui nè visa Tibi tot regna nocerent! Tu contra: Tua me Genitor, Tua tristis imago Saepiùs occurrens, absentem quaerere adegit. Stant sale nunc Patrio classes mihi: jungere dextram, Da Genitor, Téque amplexu nè subtrahe nostro. 12. O Tu! supremo cujus mortalia nutu Omnia volvuntur; Tu, quo custode Monarchis Intemerata vigent jura, & quo vindice nunquam Magnatum scelus aut populi grassatur inultum: Da Nato sua vota Pio, da jura Parenti, Assere justitiam, frangat sua poena Rebelles; Imperióque olim securâ pace fruenti Auratos Tu red dies; & damna repende (Quae videt invito jam messis septima Phoebo,) Hisce bonis, per quae Saturnia floruit Aetas, Ter septem sub Patre annis, & prole beatâ Natorum, aeternos dum Sol volvetur in orbes. Nec Tibi ni longis saturo, REX Inclyte seclis Contingat carae dextram disjungere Sponsae, Quúmque pii nôrint Temet monitore Nepotes Parcere subjectis & debellare superbos, Pax aeterna Tui firmet fundamina Sceptri: CAROLUS & propriâ faciens Te prole parentem, Pacatum ipse regat patriis virtutibus Orbem. 13. Talibus orabat dicturus plura Palaemon, Ni Superis ea cura foret plura addere votis: Praeterea, jam fessus equos immergere Ponto Ardentésque rotas properavit tingere Phoebus: Et placidi dudum rapuêre errantia venti Vela oculis; tacitâ tenet ergò caetera mente. 14. Tunc quoque nos sequimur paribus Te Carole votis, Dum mala vix aliud nobis Fortuna reliquit Quàm vota, & purae mentis solamina, Musae Intermixta jocis, queîs curae arcentur amarae. Scilicet esse viae comites nos dura negârunt Et nimis adverso volventia stamine lentas Improba fata dies: ex quo Civilia diris Arma Furor manibus rapiens, laxavit habenas Júsque dedit sceleri, nos ut spoliaret inultos, Et raperet varii compendia prima laboris, (Hei mihi! quanta illis damna exhinc addita damnis!) Gens fraeni impatiens; quae Te quoque cedere Regnis Compulit è Patriis, variisque in gentibus actum Indè novos vindictae animos hausisse coëgit. 15. Ergò ut Alcidae primos tentare labores, Et Britonum Marti primas appendere palmas, In sua damna Tuam doceant haec Monstra juventam; Invitis illas quanquam Tua carpere dextris Et doleat Pietas tali clarescere Lauro. PALAEMONIS Vaticinium Votivum. SCarce had the Summer with her dounie wing Brushed, & laid by the wardrobe of the Spring, When princely Charles with his fair Train did pleas T' expose His Sacred Person to the Seas; Trusting to th' mercy of the Ocean more Than those Land-Monsters which he left on Shore. And now great France (in greatness more increaest,) Courts the Arrival of this stately guest; Whose coming there was only to resign, And offer up his Sorrows at the shrine Of His dread Mother; who to make Her Moan And Mourning less, did intermix his own. Sad QUEEN! how hath stern stepdame Fortune tossed, And bandied Thee from Britain to the Coast Of France! where Sein displays her silver-floods, And grand Saint German vannteth her vast woods. 2. To this calm Rendezvouz sad Charles repair's With Sports to cozen and beguile his Cares: Sometimes he hunts, and with his Vocal Horn, Subverts Aurora, and the loitering Morn: Sometimes he reads; and equally imparts His well-divided hours for Arms or Arts. Yet most he sport in Martial Skirmishes, (Which may be in Earnest when just Heaven shall pleas.) Sometimes he plaie's at Tennis; then again Expert in Feats of chivalry, strives to train The stubborn Steed; and his rough fetlocks bring Within the Cube and Compass of the Ring. But ah! these Pastims are too short and brief To flatter Sorrow, or to dandle Grief. His Cares thus crushed, obtrude; and still abuse His busy fancy, with the whispered News Of good or bad Events, which still relate T' a Kingdom's Fortune, or a Father's Fate. Yet now since Heaven doth call; he's bent to try The worst of Chance, and outdare destiny, Since the designed Time, and hovering Hours At hand to Punish those usurping Powers; To put a Snaffle in the Head-strong-Jaws Of Hot-spur-Rebels, who have tired all ways: Wh' have jaded, spurgalled pity; and let loose Her Reins; and made tame mercy of no use. 3. Thus Ruminate's sad Charles, and float's betwixt duty and Zeal; unstable and unfixed, Touched with the mutual Sens of th' One and Other, Of a Dear Father and Indulgent Mother; At length the Ponderous thoughts of His Sire's fate Weighed down the Scales, and ended the Debate. Then from the Frontiers of fair France he posts, And reimbarked, arrives on Belgia's Coasts; Whose Continent before he well surveied He left, and in all haste His Anchors weighed, Putting to Sea; where Nereus, with a Fleet Of well-rigg'd-shipping, did his highness greet. A gallant navy! whose full number might Outbrave the boisterous Billows, and affright Those huge Behemoths and vast Porpoises, Which Tole the Waters and Excise the Seas. 4. These did propitious Providence provide, And pre-ordain to be great Charles His Guide: Whose just Desertion of a shipwrecked cause, buoied up and born by Usurpation was, Some lucky Omen of Blest Charles Success, Which made His Power grow greater, and theirs less. And thus re-entering with His royal Train, He plows the fertile Furrows of the Main. And with low-bended-knees, but lofty eyes Implores high Heaven to bless his Enterpize. The Cannons closed th' Amen: and did enlarge Their wide-stretch't-Organs to Report the Charge: Both Rocks and Rivers trembled at the strokes Of louder Guns; whose Center-shaking-shocks Like the Cloud-cleaving Thunder, seemed to tear The troubled Welkin, and affright the Air. The pretty Tritons did that day belabour Their well-tun'd-shells, which sounded like some Tabor, Whiles the whole Chore of Sea-Nymphs did advance And teach the Capering Surges how to dance. 5. Thus with His princely Fleet whiles he doth sail Near Britain's Coast, fanned with a whispering Gale, Tridented Neptune placed Him at the Helm, Himself doing Homage to his threefold Realm. But poor Palaemon at His Launching plies His task, and swells the canvas with his Sighs, Whose trickling tears fell down like showers of Rain, Striving to mix fresh Water with the Main. Long in these doleful dumps he stood for lack Of his loved sovereign, and at last thus spoke. 6." O Thou whose wonders are seen in the Deep " vnbottomed Bowels of the Ocean! keep " And Crown His Sacred Highness with divine " Glories; whose sceptre is a Type of Thine. " O! let th' obseqvious winds, and waves allay " Their surly looks, and study to obey. " O! let all storms be chained up in abstruse " And lonely caverns, and no more break loose, " Whiles the whole Rabble of black Tempests sleep, " lulled by the warbling music of the Deep. " Let this Daie's Jubilee with Peace be blessed " And hush't, as when Halcyon builds her nest: " Such be that day when great Charles doth prepare " T' encounter with Rebellion, and repair " The ruins of three Kingdoms, to increase " His enemy's Horror, but His Subjects Peace. 7. Dread Sovereign! whose very name gives fire To my dull Muse, which stands but to admire; And in th' amazement of that Zeal doth greet Thy Sacred Highness with unequal Feet. Pass on in triumph with a prosperous Tide, Whiles Zephyrus is thy passport and thy guide: He, he's thy Harbinger who swiftly clears The Coast from Tempests when thy Pilot steers; How doth he smile, and smooth His cheerful brow Balanced with so divine a weight as THOU! The ship which wafted Jason to the shore Of Colchis, which the vulgar did adore And deify so much, that they did prize Each Planck as Trophies to be fixed i'th' Skies; That Ship was but a cockboat to thy Sail, Or some poor puny Whiting to a Whale. Had he been Fraught with Thee, he ne'er had thought Of that vain voyage, and so dearly bought A lock of Wool, and better-tutored Greece, Would brag no longer of her Phrygian Fleece: Those Pageant-pot-gun-Triumphs (if their story Were true) were but mere Atoms to Thy glory, Which flame's like Heaven's bright blazing lamp through th' whole World, from th' Arctic to th' Antarctic Pole. 6. Go then blessed Mirror of Great Britain! go, Implore Heaven's Aid above, whiles here below Thy Subjects linger, ready with th' Expense Of their dear Blood, to fall in Thy Defence: Fresh Trophies Court Thee; richer than that old Fleece, fetch't from Phrygia, though each lock were gold: Thy cause awake's th' whole world, and clamour's high For Vengeance, from a Supreme deïtiy. Angels and Men are moved; when Devils dare Entrench on Princes, and usurp the Chair Of Sovereign Power; A Fact that cannot hold Comparison, unless referred to th' old unwieldy Giants, threatening to unthrone Their Jove, and scale the Castles of the Sun; But as their brainless fury was confined And nailed to Aetna; so let these Youths find The selfsame Fate; whose villainies have hurled Earth from her centre, and unhinged the World. How would two Houses pull twelve 'bout their ears, Those twelve Celestial Mansions of the Spheres? Whiles Stars, nay Moon and Sun may shine alone, Since our New Lights have lanterns of their own. Thus have these Phaëtons fired, and turned each Town (heart-burned before) t' a Conflagration. Strange babels-by-blow! t' untile Thrones by a trick Of State, and build a commonwealth with Brick: Dismantling earthly Kingdoms, to prepare Mountains i'th' Moon, and Castles in the Air. 9 Then sail auspicious PRINCE! and wafted o'er The officious Waves, review Thy Native Shore; New string thy neruless Subjects; and impart Fivers and Arteries to the people's heart; Resolved to hazard all, and to make good Thy royal Title, sealed in their Blood. 10. And now I grow prophetic 'bove all Fiction; And breathe divinity in my wished prediction. Black Clouds dissolve, and gloomy Horror goes Back to that cursed Chaö s whence she rose. Not daring to creep nearer, or encroach, When Charles shall in bright majesty approach. As when great Titan charioteer to the day, Rideth his Circuit in his rich array; The conscious Night retires, and to bewail Her Guilt the more, puts on a Mourning veil. Or look as when Sol's melting Beams parched high To their Meridian, how the poor Herds fly Headlong in Droves! as though they were afraid Of those pale shadows which their flight hath made! So may those gobbling Ghosts, those Beasts of Prey Sneak to their sooty Hen-roosts, and withdraw At Thy dread-looks: so may those Serpents hiss Back, countermanded to their first Abyss. Let them Repent that day, and Text it in Their fatal rubric, when they first did sin Against their SOVEREIGN, daring to Conspire And Spawn black Treason 'gainst Thy Sacred Sire. Let them Repent, when Vengeance and Heaven too Shall pay their Score, and give them what's their Due. 11. Thus did that good Anchises son of old By th' authentic sibyl's Oracle grow bold To rescue his blessed Father, and thence made A strange adventure through the Elysian shade; Such was His private piety, but Thy Zeal Involves three Kingdoms and their public-weal: Each Act is Sacred, and each aim of Thine▪ centre's in Heaven, and thence grows Divine. 12. O thou great-wonder-working GOD above! By whom the machine of th' whole Earth doth move; Who rul'st both Sword and sceptre with a Rod, And stillest the mutinous world with thy sole nod: Inspire, inspire great Charles, and gently shed Showers of sceptres on our Sovereign's Head; That Justice may return t' arraign those known Loose outlawries Thine enemies, and their own: That we may injoie old Saturn's days of old, To reconvert our Iron into Gold. With these thronged Blessings was Thy Father crowned Thrice seven long Summers, leaving a renowned And princely progeny, which shall secure This Throne as long as Sun or Stars endure. But may thy sceptre, and thy Regal Power Brook no Corrival, nor Competitor; Whiles Princes made thy Tenants, hold the Leas Both of their lives and fortunes to the Peace Of glorious Britain; and preserved thus, own their-selves and safeties to Thy royal Throne. 13. In this sad plight Palemon did implore Th' Eternal Powers, and fain would have said more, But did refer the sequel of his prayer To Heaven's great mercy, and th' Almightie's Care: Besides Sol had unsaddled (for their eas His Steeds) and drenched his Chariot in the Seas: The Fleet was out of sight too, and t' was best For poor Palemon to conceal the rest. 14. Yet since winged volleys of his wishes may Wait on great Charles, as convoys to His way, He send's them wrapped in Sighs; as grieved to show How little he could pay, how much must owe; But whiles he breathes, he'll deprecate those dire Accursed Band-dogs that have fanned this fire Of Civil Discords; letting loose th' unjust Reins to licentious murder, and black Lust: Who weltering in their gore, have swum to th' chin In bloody Riot, and Seditious Sin. And here they have raised their Crimes by the exile Of Thy blessed Presence, from this British Isle. Which last Act, when their Fate grows mellow, shall Add to their Weight, and Crush them in the fall. 15. Go then great Champion; go; make good the story That cites Alcides, O may Thy first glory Be vowed to Mars: whiles miscreants are thence made The Maiden-handsils of thy fatal Blade. And though 'tis pity such base Blood should stain A royal falchion; and but little gain To kill such hedgehogs. Let not this Plea sue Their Pardons, nor debar them of their due: Since the grieved Realm doth groan, and groan again, Big with those Monsters, in the shape of men: Whose violent pangs, and long Convulsion-fits Have half bereft, and robbed her of her wits. Be Thou then her Lucina, be, and close Her womb, expanded through her teeming-throws; And as they Brood still quell, and dissipate The abortive Hydra's of an Headless State. May Men and Angels further Thy intent In this great Work, and wait upon th' event; Since now the Season, and the appointed Times Are near to power down vengeance on their Crimes: And th' hour's at hand (if soldiers may divine) To seek their ruins that have thus sought THINE. FINIS. An Advertisement to the READER in reference to the annexed prophecy. READER, THis prophecy received from an honourable Person, coming so opportunely to my hand, I thought it but duty to transfer it to the public view; not daring to commit so great a sin in the secret concealment of a business of so general a concernment. Touching the Author, Paulus Grebnerus, he was a great Astronomer, and a man of surpassing piety, and known integrity, whose Erudition likewise and excellent Endowments, have received a public Character from this and other Kingdoms. His prophecy here need no panegyric; and a farther amplification, by way of apology, would prove impertinent where so many thousands have been so throughly prepossessed in the truth of his Predictions. In a word, schismatics (that speak evil of Dignities, and despise prophecies) may perchance persist still obstinate; I am sure all ROYALISTS will rest here well satisfied. For my part, I shall therefore pray for the Conversion of the first, and Confirmation of the last; wishing the one more Faith, and the other better Fortune. Farewell. The prophecy of Paulus Grebnerus concerning these Times. PAulus Grebnerus was here in England with Queen Elizabeth, Anno 1582. and presented Her with a fair Manuscript in Latin, describing therein the future history of Europe, here and there limming in Water-colors some principal Passages. Dr. Nevil, Clerk of the Closet, being in favour with the Queen obtained this Book of Her, and bestowed it on the library of Trinity college in Cambridg, where it hath been published to the view of all persons, till about five or six years ago, by much perusing and ill handling, it was much slurred and defaced. In his Predictions He describeth the Troubles of Russia, and the Election of a Swedish King, Sigismond by name, to be King of Polonia, by which he shall irrecoverably lose his own Inheritance. That of the Swedish Race there should be one GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS by name, that should take heart from the Distractions of Germany to invade the Empire with a small army; fight many Battles prosperously, but should at last perish in a pitched-field. That about that time should Reign Rex Septentrionalis nomine CAROLUS, qui ducet Vxorem Mariam Papipisticam ex quo evadet Regum infelicissimus. Tunc Populus ipsius Ditionis eliget sihi alium Imperatorem, Comitem; qui durabit in Imperio tres annos, aut circiter. At postea idem Populus eliget alium Imperatorem, Equitem, non ejusdem Familiae nec Dignitatis, cui detrudet omnia sub pedibus suis: durabit aliquantò longiore tempore: & post hunc eliget nullum. Post hunc apparebit quidam CAROLUS è CAROLO descendens, cum immensâ class in Litore Ditionis Patris sui, & cum Auxiliariis Danicis, Suedicis, Hollandicis, Francicis prosrernet Adversarios Suos, & administrabit Imperium perfelicissimè, & longè latéque dominabitur, & erit CAROLO Magno major. Englished thus. About that time a Northern King shall Reign, Charles by Name, who shall take to Wife MARIE of the Popish Religion; whereupon he shall be a most unfortunate Prince. Then the People of His Dominion shall choose to themselves another Commander [or Governor] viz. an Earl; whose Government shall last three years, or there about. And afterwards the same People shall choose another Commander or [or Governor] viz. a Knight, not of the same family, nor dignity, who shall trample all things under his feet: he shall endure somewhat longer time: and after him they shall choose none at all. After him shall appear one Charles descending from Charles, with a mighty navy, on the Shore of His Father's Kingdom; and with Aid from Denmark, Swedeland, Holland, France, shall overthrow His Adversaries, and shall govern His Kingdom wonderful happily, and shall bear Rule far and near: and shall be greater than Charles the Great. A short Paraphrase on the foregoing prophecy. HOw well could Grebner in those blind Times see! And in these Seeing-Times how blind are we? Our new-Found-Lights are lost; those squint-ei'd-elus, And purblind Seekers, may now seek themselves; Who have thus erred, imagining Prediction Of Sacred prophecy, but some feigned Fiction. But we (Blessed Grebner!) who have still admired, And looked upon thee as some Soul inspired; Will hold thy Saws no longer in suspens, Which now w'have reached with th' optics of our Sens; Since what was once Apocalypse, is known The unriddled Truth of Revelation. Those two grand Champions (that trod on the Neck Of Nations, and had Kingdom's at Their Beck) Are both exstinct; and Fame can only give A bare relation that They once did live. But Thou renowned Charles, whose matchless Fate Designed Thee a Victim to the People's Hate; (Maugre the malice of Thy Foes) wert hurled With Haleluiahs from the wondering world, A Conqueror o'er Thy doom; from whence we may Infer, Thou only livedst, we died that day. And now look back; look back; and have recourse From whence these streams of Mischief had their sours, Whiles those promiscuous Hodg-podg-Powers oppose, Like high-swollen Floods that River whence they rose. The Eagle thus dislodged; a Wren-like race Of dunghil-Dors, soon perched-up-up in His Place. And lapwing-liberty e'er fleged, takes flight, First hath her Champion-Earl; the next a Knight, Whose heavy Pressure hath so imped her wings, She hath lost by Consuls what she got by KINGS. And now (but life's in prophecy) we might Die, and despair to see Thy Second Light, Great Charles, who like the Bridegroom of the day, Shalt giled sad Britain with Thy glorious ray; Whiles all those shower-shot mushrooms, and those new Created Brats, melt like the morning dew; And all those Ignes fatui shrink and run Like Exhalations at the rising Sun. This is the Wish great KING, and pious Care Of those who piece-forth prophecy with their prayer; O may blessed Grebner be added to the Small Prophets! and prove each line Canonical; Whiles what in th' old Queen's Reign he did divine, May be fulfilled, and ratified in Thine: O mayst Thou Reign in Thy known Realms, who art Enthroned already in Thy People's heart! O mayst Thou Rule! and spread Thy Fame through th'whole Earth; from the Arctic to t' Antarctic Pole. Till the just world with Grebner shall maintain Thee a mightier Monarch then brave Charlemagne. FINIS. Aeternae Memoriae, ET SANCTIS MANIBUS. CAROLI I. Nuper MAGNAE BRITANNIAE REGIS Pientissimi; Nunc verò Angliae Proto-Martyris-Regii Gloriosissimi, SACRUM. In iniquitatibus illorum Gloriam Tuam perfecisti. Typis excusum Anno CAROLI Martyris primo, 1649. Aeternae Memoriae CAROLI I. &c. NE jam, Roma tuis Catilinae crimina chartis Devoveas, jactésve tuos (ô Brute!) triumphos: Major enim quàm x vidisti haec Monstra, Britanne Disque exosa magis tractatur Scena Theatro. Non Patriae furtim ferales subdere taedas Conjurata manus tentat, non Publica caecis Nunc petitur Res consiliis, non dira recessus Infandum molita nefas jam quaerit Erynnis: Sed testem te, Phoebe vocat, quem caena Thyestae Crimine velavit quondam polluta minori. CAESAR enim periit, justè x Roma Tyrannos Extimuit, veróque nefas culpante Senatu, Plaudente hîc Illegitimo REX CAESARE MAJOR Fata subit laetus, Themidis faedátque secures: Dum non visa priùs Populis spectacula praebet Turba ferox, Regis Sacram & scelerata prophanat Cervicem Proprii sub limina Sancta Palati; REGIS, quo Melior nunquam vel Justior alter Lubrica vesanis admovit fraena Britannis. * Whitehall, sive alba aula, Regii Palatii pars nobilissima, Publ. quondam Legatorum auditionibus, & praeciputs aulae solennitatibus inserviens, funestissimi spectaculi Theatrum & executionis locus deligitur. Hîc ubi vicinis quondam responsa Legatis Ipse dabat, toto spargens Oracula Mundo Insignis Triplici Diademate, saeva securim Dextra parat; verùm immoto jamjam ultima vultu Fata videt, Mortémque Hostésque in Morte triumphans Calcat, & intrepidus minitantem despicit Ensem: Non minus Augusto spectandus lumine, Coeli Mox ut abiturus sacras sublimis ad Arces, Quàm Populo x jura dabat: Sic CAROLUS astra Divorúmque domos petit, & * Ob pietatem seil. insignem ipsique supra exemplum familiatem.* Ipsissima ejus verba in secundâ compellatione Westmon. I die a Martyr for My Parliament and People. I stand for the Laws of England, and the liberty of My People. sibi cognita Regna: Indomitóque Tuas animo, Themis Anglica, Leges Asserit, & propriae tua praefet jura saluti: Sed cadet hoc fulmen nec totum terreat Orbem? Legibus ô MARTYR Populóque! ô victima nostris Non benè caesa malis, mundóque ignota priori! * Sic prophetico quodam spirtu afflatus aliâ compellatione expressi. That the child yet unborn may curs the sad events of these violent courses taken against me. Ovos venturi lugete haec damna Nepotes! Quanta etenim tantos placabunt funera manes? Caussa Dei, Caussa haec Regum est: quà lumina condit Quáque oritur Phoebus, tangent Tua Fata Monarchas CAROLE, dum Coelo volvetur Lucidus axis. At conjuratae tandem Tibi sanguine dextrae Litabunt, proprióque cadent Tibi victima ferro, Dúmque Tuo è cinere ut Phoenix renovabitur alter (Proxima quem Sceptri faciunt Tibi jura secundum.) CAROLUS, atque Tuos vindex exsurget in hostes, Tota secundabit Terrarum Machina votis Justa ejus conata Suis, intérque Nepotes Heroüm in numero potiorem sera locabit Posteritas, Tecúmque olim post fata beabit Suprema hunc Coelique domus, diuúmque Corona. Amen, ô Deus! (O vindex scelerum Regúmque custos) To the Sacred memory of that late High and mighty Monarch, Charles the FIRST; he who fell Jan. 30. 1648. the princely Proto-Martyr of Great BRITAIN, &c. NO more of Annals; let great Rome grow mute In quoting Catiline, or recording Brute▪ Britain now wears the Sock; the theatre's clean Transplanted hither, both in Place and Scene. No veil nor Periwig-vizor; murder, here Without a mask dares on the Stage appear, Outfacing even the Sun, which oft hath fled, And at less crimes shrunk in his frighted head. Rome had some Plea (though she ne'er justified) Those fatal Swords by which great Caesar died. But here a greater far than Caesar falls By a spurious Senate and her Cannibals. How do that Monster-headless-multitude Gaze on the Beams, and giddily intrude On's Sacred Person! murdering Him before The eyes of Heaven! and at His own Door! A Prince so sweetly Pious, Rebels must Confess 'tis they were guilty, but he Just! And now behold the Scene! White-hall's decreed The fatal shambles where the Lamb must bleed; Whitehall! from whence he oft dispersed and hurled His Sacred Oracles through the Peaceful world: There with an uncontrolled Courage, (higher Far than that Scaffold) did His Soul asspire In glorious Elohims, making His last state His Haleluiah, or Magnificat. Thus Great AUGUSTUS falling, did bequeathe New Edicts to the world, even at His Death, Such as did Screen His memory from the rust Of black Oblivion; and embalm His Dust. But Thou blessed Charles, whom history shall style The princely Proto-Martyr of this Isle. Fellest Champion of the Church; and didst make good The Realms grand Charter sealed in Thy Blood. And could this dismal shock of Thunder light Only on Britain's breast? and not affright The universe? to let us understand, The general dooms-day of the world's at hand? Children unborn shall still bewail the time Of this sad Hour; and deprecate the Crime Of those dire Regicides, whose blushing guilt, For Vengeance cry's loud as that Blood th' have spilled. Thy cause invokes just Heaven, and doth implore Confederate Princes to the farthest Shore Of all the world; as far as Phoebus' ray Doth guild the zodiac, and proclaim's the day. And yet should all these fail; blessed Charles 'tis known Thou've left a princely progeny of Thine own. Who' l expiate Thy murder, OF resign Their own Lives too, as Offerings at Thy Shrine. And now see! see! another phoenix rise! From the blessed ashes of this Sacrifice! A Second Charles! who shall in fame asspire, And grow more mighty than His princely Sire. And now, O may th' unanimous world enthrone Him soon! and reinvest Him in His Own. May he outlive old Nestor's day and go Not hence, but clothed in a Robe of Snow; And then when envious Heaven too shall remove His sway from Earth, O may he Reign above! And meet His Sire, wh' (having past this flood In Robes of scarlet died in His own Blood) Sits now a Crowned Martyr, and hath free Title to add a Fourth Crown to His Three. Sur la mort de CHARLES I. Deffunt Roy de la Grand Bretaigne. SONNET. ANGLOIS, est il donc uray que ce PIEUX MONARQUE Que Trois Peuples ont veu Regner si Justement, Ainsy q'un Criminel assiste en jugement; Et puis souffre le coup de la Mortelle Parque? Est il uray que Charon ose amener sa Barque, Jusques dessus le seuil de ce Grand Bâstiment Qui fut de son Palais le plus bel ornement; Et que son sang l'ait teint d'une Eternelle marque? Ouy; mais malaisement chez la Posterité, Ce recit passeroit pour une verité, Tant de cet attentat les coups sont effroyables: Si la Foy n'enseignoit un Christ persecuté: Ou que lon ne s' ceust pas, Que regnersur des * Il Rè d'Engelterra Rè de los Diabolos El Rè di Francia Rè de los Asnos, &c. V. Diables Est un pas dangereux pour tant de Pieté. In MARTYRIUM CAROLI I. Epigramma. DUm Populi curas, REX, per Tua damna salutem, Jure novo veniunt jam nova Regna Tibi; Quarta etenim Triplici superadditur ista Coronae, Quòd moriens Populo MARTYR es atque Deo. E vivis ereptus iv. Kal. Febr. Anno Aerae Christianae, MDCXLIX. In CAROLI I. obitum Epigramma. GRex erat, & viridi carpebat gramina campo Grex felix; fidus cui modo Pastor erat. Lex erat, & justae lis omnis subdita legi: Lis felix, Legis cui modo Lator erat. Rex erat, & placido Rexit Moderamine; Pastor Et Legis-lator (plangite) justus obit. Nunc sine lege Duces; sed non sine lite furores; Nunc sine Pastore est Grex, sine Rege Thronus. Omnia, Rex, Lex, Grex, jam sunt pessundata; Terris Quid superest? nisi Faex: Plebs ferè victa jacet. Epigramma Historicum De Termino Hilarii Juridico in Angliâ intercalato, Anno Dom. 1649. TErminus en Hilar I fuit hoc tristissimus Anno, Purpura Regalis tincta cruore Togae. In terra retinent spinas Diademata Regum; In Coelo electis grata Corona datur. Memoriae Sacrum Optimi Maximi CAROLI I. GReat SIR, Your pardon that my ruder verse Dares with her Feet profane Your Sacred Hers; True Grief no Manners knows; and to begin With Courtship, were but ceremonious sin. Whiles You survived, blessed SIR, my loyal breath Still waited on Your Service; and since Death (Sent by the Actors of so black a Treason, As puzzles Faith, and quite confounds all Reason) Hath hurled You hence; You justly SIR may call My Bodied thoughts to wait Your Funeral. My dwindling-dwarf-like-fancy swells not big, Nor knows to wear a borrowed Periwig Of Metaphors, nor from Parnassus rise To ransack farfetched Phrases from the Skies; Since all those piddling epithets are too brief, Great Charles, to show Thy glory, or my Grief. Go thou grim Conqueror; search thy kingdom through, Examine every urn and Pitcher too; Taste all thy Earths, and call at every Grot, Even those whose Names, Rust & the Worms have got; And tell me if in all thy dark-house be Snch a Prince fallen, and Prince though fallen, as he. Greatness and Goodness too, which seldom fall Within the Compass of the selfsame Scale, In Him were poized, and divinely met; Whose Meekness made Him Good, and mercy Great. His Meekness, oh! that inexhausted Mine And Magazine of Moral and Divine Graces, which like the influence, and the bright Beams of the Sun, filled Britain with their Light. But why am I thus partial? when that all His Thoughts, Words, Actions, were Angelical? Which like fixed Load-stars, did direct most men To sail by th' Compass of His Life and Pen: Each pious action was so chaste, and such As held it sin to think, but death to touch; His mercy such, as if he did but live To know His Subjects failings, and forgive. Unheard of Love! which could offences mask And sooner grant their Pardon, than they ask! Thus was His Life unpatterned! but His Death! Oh how the sens which suffocate's my breath Curdle's my blood! and, like swift poison, flies, In curling flames through all my Arteries! He died by th'barbarous hands of such a fry As fed on Furies, and have dreined dry The Lerna of all murders, to new-stock Mankind with spreading Crimes; such as may mock Preceding Treasons, and the world supply With a strange Mould to cast all Future by: All former Acts were fictions unto this; Raviliacks too is a Parenthesis; A murder so transcendent, Annals shall Henceforth grow faithless and apocryphal. But Thou blessed Martyr, who hast here laid down, And changed a Temporal for a Glorious Crown; Hast finished Thy great Work, and by th' event, Attained more than they promised, but ne'er meant. Rest ROYAL SIR, rest in Your Sacred Hers While we embalm Your memory with our verse, And trickling Tears, which shall like Pearls refine Your Urn, and serve for Diamonds to your Shrine. You need no other Monument, who have No less than three whole Kingdoms for Your Grave: Whiles from the melting Marble of their eyes Is crystallized this Epitaph Here lies " Honour's rich Fountain, the True Faith's Defender; " Religion, and the Law's Prop, and Extender; " The purest quintessence of Christian Zeal, " Best Father both of Church and Common-weal! " virtue's rare pattern; Wedlocks chastest Mirror; " Rebellions and bold Treasons, Scorn and Terror; " The spotless Sacrifice, for the wild flood " Of's People's loud sins. Charles the Great, the Good. CHRONOSTICHON Decollationis CAROLI REGIS, &c. tricesimo die Januarii, secunda hora Pomeridiana, Anno Dom. MDCXLVIII. Ter Deno Jani Labens ReX SoLe CaDente CaroLVs eXVtVs SoLIo SCeptróqVe SeCVre. Charles!— ah forbear, forbear! lest Mortals prize His Name too dearly; and Idolatrize. His Name! Our Loss! Thrice cursed and forlorn Bee that Black Night, which ushered in this Morn. Charles our Dread Sovereign!— hold! lest outlawed Sens Bribe, and seduce tame Reason to dispens With those Celestial Powers; and distrust Heaven can Behold such Treason, and prove Just. Charles our Dread Sovereign's murdered!— Tremble! and View what Convulsions Shoulder-shake this Land; Court, city, country, nay three Kingdoms run To their last Stage, and Set with Him their Sun. Charles our Dread Sovereign's murdered at His Gate! Fell Fiends! dire Hydra's of a stiff-necked-state! Strange bodie-politicks! whose Members spread, And, Monster-like, swell bigger than their Head. Charles of Great Britain! he! who was the known King of three Realms, lies murdered in His Own. He! He! who lived, and Faith's Defender stood; Dieed here to rebaptise it in His Blood. No more, no more. Fame's Trump shall echo all The Rest in dreadful Thunder. Such a Fall Great Christendom ne'er patterned; and 'twas strange Earth's centre reeled not at this dismal Change. The Blow struck Britain blind, each well-set Limb By Dislocation was lopped off in Him. And if she yet lives, she lives burr to condole Three Bleeding Bodies left without a Soul. Religion puts on Black. Sad loyalty Blushe's and mourns to see bright majesty Butchered by such Assassinates; nay both 'Gainst God, 'gainst Law, Allegiance, and their Oath. Farewell sad Isle! farewell! Thy fatal glory Is summed, Cast up, and canceled in this story. FINIS. OBSEQUIES ON That unexemplar Champion of chivalry, and Pattern of true Prowess, ARTHUR Lord CAPEL. 'tIs false astronomy.— Nor are we yet In utter darkness, though the Sun be set; Since Thy star-beaming-influence proves all Those Rules eccentric, and Apocryphal. Thou'rt hight'ned by Thy Fall, and dost now shine With doubled lustre, since Thy last Decline. Bright mirror of our Sphere! who art no less Then valour's wonder; Virtue's masterpiece; Filling whole volumes with Thy Fame; to tell The World Thy Worth was her own Chronicle: To tell the World, those Praises in the Wars Thou've purchased, might be numbered with the Stars; And had Thy well-proportion'd-days been Spun Out by Thy Deeds, Thou hadst outlived the Sun; Forcing the World's great luminary t' have His Chaös climacterick with Thy Grave. Thus Thy renowned Meeds like Incens hurled On flaming Altars, have perfumed the World With such rich odours, that scarce envy knew Whether Thou were't to King or Realm most true. Let State-Chronographers admire, and plead Those Rites they owe to honour; when they read Thy rare achievements; studying to refine The truth of Modern history by Thine. Carthage be dumb! our Colchester stands now Corrival with thee, and dares more than Thou; And all those Punic Wars, thy Walls could boast, Have o'er and o'er been traversed on her Coast. Rome's three horatij are posed; our Isle Hath bred a Capel, Lucas, and a Lisle: Whose matchless deed's have dubed them with that late And glorious title of Triumvirate; Whiles their transcendent merit struts, and strives To stand on tiptoe in Superlatives. And still there's something more; for, what was mixed Promiscuously in these, in Thee was fixed. In Thee that Pythagorean Maxime's true; And what was stale philosophy, proves new divinity, since th' Souls of all those Nine Renowned Ones Transmigrated in Thine. But why do we Adore Thee, made immense And far sublimed above our Sphere of Sens? Scorning bright obelisks of Brass, or Stone Should raise Thy Monument, who art Thine own. Yet shouldst Thou expect a Shrine on Earth, we must Make Colchester th' Exchequer of Thy Dust: Nor is it more than reason, since 'twere pity To give Thee a less churchyard than that city, T' inter Thee in her Breaches, and overturn Her stately Bulwarks, to support Thine Urn; Whilst the thronged streets would justle to make room And spread their towers, as Trophies o'er Thy Tomb. But this grand Task I recommend to those, Who can limm Fancies in more lively Prose; Whose rhetoric may richly guild this Pile, And raise Invention to a lofty stile; Such as may Conjure Horror, and oblige Faith-founder'd-zelots' to confess that Siege, That fatal Siege, whose Trenches were or'espread With mangled trunks and bodies of the Dead; Till the discoloured Earth, thus died in Grain, Blushed to behold such Shambles of the Slain: And the pale Furies stood like heartless Elus, Trembling, to see Men do more than themselves. The Center-shaking-Brass grew hot, and spoke In Flames of Lightning, and in Clouds of Smoke; And Charon fainted, Ferrying Souls to Hell, When Hecatombs of the Besiegers fell. Amidst these tragic Triumphs didst Thou rear Thy brave Top-gallant, 'bove the reach of Fear; Undauntedly exposing Thy bold Head To shocks of Thunder, and thick showers of Lead: Those Bullets were then Tame; and we may tax The partial Sword that spared Thee for the Ax. The Field (th' Asylum of great Spirits) clean Is changed here; the city is the Scene; The Cannon showed fair-play: But Thou were't packed Away, not by an Ordnance, but an Act. The Scaffold turned a Stage: Where 'tis confessed, The last Act (though most bloody) proved Thy Best: It proved Thy solemn Coronation, since The Yard's Thy Palace; and a Glorious Prince Thy precedent: Who after Him art hurled To meet Thy Sovereign in another World. Transferred from Earth to Heaven, to remain A fixed Star, and wait on Charles his WAIN. OBSEQUIES Offered up to the memory of the ever Renowned and never to be forgotten, ARTHUR, Lord CAPEL. DO; paddle still in Blood, for 'tis not strange Now if your thirsty dropsied Blades do range On the whole stock of Man; or that they spread To trunk and Boughs, since they have lopped the Head: For since the KING, who like one general Soul, Did through each nerv and agile muscle roll; And like some public Conduit did dispense To every Vein, both Sap and Influence; Shines in His Crown of Martydom above, Guilt and enamelled with the Beams of Love; The Cement thus unfixed and slacked, we must Needs languish in to shuffled heaps of Dust: And as in Bodies, where the Head is lopped From off the weeping Stem, some Spirits dropped From that great Magazine, into each part, And left as Legacies unto the Heart; Contract the Joints and Hands, then make them spread As if they catched at the dislodging Head; So after this vast Ruin, though the Frame Of Nature were both discomposed and lame; Yet in this crippled Structure, there might be Some starts and leaps, which flowed (brave Lord!) from Thee; On whom, as some not yet discovered Sours, Which doth to th' suppled Earth fresh Sap disburse, And through her veins melt's in a purling rill, Th' exspiring KING His vigour did distil. And as some sullen vapour which was spun From th' Earth's course Wardrobe, by the glaring Sun, To some wild Meteors, hover's in the Air, And on each Cloud shed's its unraveled hair; But wanting Active Heat to waft it higher, Doth in dull Slime and sluggish Mists expire: So before CAPEL was (like th' early Flower Which ruder Hands tore from the mangled Bower) Rent from His Bleeding stalk, we might perchance, Like vapours winged with His brave heat, advance Above the Common-level, yet but now His Flames shot-up no new supply t' allow. We crumble shall to Ruin straight, and run Into a wild Precipitation. And as when Morning from the Azure Towers Powers out the day, and pluck's out th'unfledged hours; The Earth unlock's its womb, each flower unweaves Its odorous tresses, and unties its leaves, That so they may be spangled by that blaze That from the blooming Sun's gilt lustre strays; So now when he like a new-budded Star That studies the Orb's above, doth from a far Point out his Beams to us, let their clear Light Steer us through the perplexed maze of night; And our benumed and frozen Souls so thaw, He may both our Example be and law; For though that Man's a world within himself; In Him no Passion swollen into a Shelf To split His even thoughts, no Rock of Pride Did intercept or justle the free Tide Of well-poised actions, and no Mountain there Was by Ambition made, or Gulf by Fear. His beauteous Actions too without did meet, Still in such comely and well-balanced feet, And were so fairly knit, you'd think they'd been Each one the Transcript of His Soul within; No bias His Religion warped awry Into a crooked excentricity, 'Twas sullied with no Ends; he could not tell How to vamp Calvin with dark Machiavel. No widows cooler sighs did fan His Cup, He drank in's Wine no Tears of Orphans up; His Pregnant Fields were moistened by the Skies, Not weat with showers rained from His Tenants eyes; And having thus with Virtue paved the Track Which to His urn did guide His footsteps back; He, when His full-fledged Soul cast off her clay, To bathe in Tides of never-ebbing day, Did in so soft a Calm dismiss His breath, As if 't were His Espousals, not His Death; And that in His cold shroud he were to meet The portrait only of His Genial sheet. In Praematurum Obitum Baronis CAPEL, ET Casum Mortis-Sociorum, VII. Id. Mart. MDCXLIX. TRes cecidêre simul, Fato non dispare, Caussâ Quamvis dissimili, a Hamilton, MARCHIO, b Capel, BARO, c Holland. Capite multati in Palatii Westmon. Areâ Publ. COMES; Dispar enim fuit haec ratio, (licèt omnibus idem Supplicium inflixit praecipitata Themis;) Quòd a Hamilton, Primus meritas Tibi solvit, CAROLE, poenas, Immerita ast b Capel, Alium MARTYRA poena facit: c Holland. Capite multati in Palatii Westmon. Areâ Publ. Tertius at dubii quondam damnatus amoris, Se Tibi nunc * Sic Petrus nutantis fidei poenitentiam egit lacrymis. moerens reddere Justa putat. Illustrissimi Herôis Domini FRANCISCI VILLIERS Epicedium. QUisquis amicus ades, nec moestos scindere crines, Nec pigeat madidas Ungue secare genas; Occidit illustris jnvenum fortissimus Heros, Quem subitò Fati carpsit acerba manus; Ille alios tantùm vicit Virtutibus omnes, Ante alios, quantum Pegasus ibat equos. Hei mihi! cur tetricae ruperunt fila Sorores? Cur stabat vacuâ tam citò Parca colo? Cúrve ferox Miles vultus laniare decoros Sustinuit? ferro durior ipse suo; Dulce decus Patriae! cur te temerarius ardor In medios enses, saeuáque tela tulit? Sors levis ut solita est rapit optima, praeterit ima, Hei mihi tam dubias injicit illa manus! Quam vellem hostiles pro Te cecidisse cohortes; Cum deuce non tanti tota caterva fuit: Tu tamen, heu facinus, turmis jugulatus ab istis, Pressisti duram sanguinolentus humum; Nec Species, Virtúsve Tibi, nec profuit Aetas; Pro Patriâ (Patriae Gloria) magne jaces. Semper honos, laudes, & splendida facta manebunt; Nunquam Lethaeis ista dabuntur aquis. Vos igitur tristes tandem compescite luctus, Nec calido madidas imbre rigate genas: Qui modò plorâstis, Lacrymas teneatis, Amici; Non potuit fato nobiliore mori. G. F. OBSEQUIES On the untimely Death, of the never to be too much praised and pitied FRANCIS Lord VILLIERS. HEnce fond philosophy! it cannot be; The crazy World crawl's t' his last Jubilee; And though the Circle of the Year hath been A Snake in emblem, it can't cast his skin. At least I can't believe't; when every day, Some stately piece is swallowed up in clay; When Cedars feel the fate of Shrubs, and when Great Peers expire, and tamely die like men. How couldst Thou else thus steal away unheard, Without a Troop of Angels for thy guard? Without th' artillery of the Clouds, at this Thy great and glorious metempsychosis? The Age is sure forgetful; or perchance Nature herself lay bedrid in a Trance, And those Torch-Constellations which shine At others hearses, were all set in Thine; As if they fell with Thee, and Fate would have Their Chaös clymacterick with Thy Grave. But, why do I epitomise a Theme In this small schedule which deserves a Ream? A Theme whose charming magic might inspire A cold Carthusian; and with Enthean fire Kindle such raptures, as may re-engage Those Buskin-Bonaerges of our Age To Personate Thee with more lively tread, And in loud language show the world who's dead. Let brave Bellona, who hath lately known Thy Meeds, proclaim them; and with warlike tone, High as the sulphur-breathing-Brass, enlarge Thy spreading triumphs, and report her charge; She, she shall rear Thy Trophies, and display Thy matchless chivalry, on that black day Thou copdest with destiny, and didst resign Thy Temporal-Title, for a more Divine. Nor could Thy Courage stop, or make a paus, Where honour called so loud; and such a Caus As might provoke an Hermit, and make room With His own Flame to meet His Martyrdom. Armed with these resolves, encountering Fear Thou foildest her quite, whilst in a brave career Thou didst outdare the Destinies, and tread A lofty measure through whole showers of Lead; (Spite of the fury of th' opposing crowd) Cleaving Thy way, like Lightning, through a Cloud. Thus midst these tragic Triumphs were't Thou hurled With loud field-music from th' affrighted world, A Conqueror o'er Thy doom; witness that Peal And vocal volley which chimed forth Thy Knell; To tell the world Thy Merit, maugre Fate Still, still survive's, and is Invulnerate. How large the story, or how ample; we'll Not now remember, since 'twas writ with steel And registered in Blood. Th' indented Face (Though no great Volume) was the Common-Place, And Index of Thy valour: every scar Seeming at least some mystic Character; While's we admire those Marginal Notes, and vexed, We cannot Comment on so deep a Text. But why do I revolv the short-writ-story Of fading Youth; or recollect the glory Of Thy blessed beauty (which though once the Throne Oth' lily and Rose) was blasted before blown? Prepo'strous Fate! t' anticipate and bring On Winter ere Thou didst enjoy Thy Spring! To obnubilate Thy Morning-Sun, and shroud Thy dawning splendour in a gloomy Cloud! But ah! Complaints are shadows, and too brief To show the world Thy Goodness or our Grief; Nor can we circumscribe, or with weak sens Define Thy Merit, which is so immense. Alas! we knew 't was not the Cob-web-shrine Of Flesh could lodge so bright a Soul as Thine; T' was not a Cabinet of clay could hold So rich a Jewel; nor the brittle Mould Of Earth contain a Seraphin, in all His blessed dimensions so Angelical. Why should we fondly then repine; or why Thus pity Him, we rather should envy? His state transcends our Passions; nor may we Revers or countermaned heavens' grand Decree: Though we could weep a deluge to engross Our Griefs, and make them ample as His Loss. And You blessed Madam (mirror of Your Sex, And wonder of our Age) surceas to vex Your Soul with sad Remembrance; whiles You smother And bury quick all Comforts in a Brother. Those Diamond-Tears You daily shed (of more Account than all those on the Indian shore) Are spent in vain; and You profusely prize His loss, to waste the Treasure of Your eyes. His Fame requires no Monumental-stone, Nor Epitaph; why should You then bemoan His Funeral-Obsequies, and thus make room Ith' Tablet of Your Heart, t' erect His Tomb, Where You, blessed Votaress, piously resign Your Sighs, as Incens, offered at His Shrine. Whilst in the Torrent of these Tears You swim; Madam, You do bewail Your Self, not Him Who soar's above Your Sorrows; and sits in Commission, with some blessed Cherubin, Enthroned in those Celestial Mansions, where He shines like Heaven's bright Champion, in His Sphere On the MARTYRDOM Of His Late majesty, &c. Come, come, let's Mourn; all eyes, that see this day, Melt into showers, and Weep yourselves away: O that each Private head could yield a Flood Of Tears, whilst Britain's Head streams out His Blood; Could we pay what His Sacred Drops might claim, The World must needs be drowned once again. Hands cannot write for Trembling; let our eye Supply the Quill, and shed an elegy. Tongues cannot speak; this Grief knows no such vent, Nothing, but Silence, can be Eloquent. Words are not here significant; in This Our Sighs, our Groans bear all the Emphasis. Dread SIR! What shall we say? Hyperbole Is not a Figure, when it speaks of Thee: Thy Book is our best Language; what to this Shall e'er be added, is Thy meiosis: Thy Name's a Text too hard for us: no men Can write of it, without Thy Parts and Pen. Thy Prisons, Scorns, Reproach, and poverty (Though these were thought too courteous injury) How couldst Thou bear? Thou Meeker Moses, how? Was ever Lion bit with Whelps till now And did not roar? Thou England's David, how Did Shimei's Tongue not move Thee? Where's the Man? Where is the King? Charles is all Christian. Thou never wantedest Subjects, no; when they Rebelled, Thou mad'st Thy Passions to obey. Hadst Thou regained Thy Throne of State by Power, Thou hadst not then been more a Conqueror. But Thou, thine own Soul's Monarch, art above Revenge and Anger, canst Thou tame Thy Love? How couldst Thou bear Thy Queen's Divorce? must she At once Thy Wife, and yet Thy widow be? Where are Thy tender Babes once Princely bred, Thy choicest Jewels, are They sequestered? Where are Thy Nobles? Lo, in stead of these Base savage Villains, and Thine Enemies: Egyptian Plague! 'twas only Pharaoh's doom, To see such Vermin in His Lodging-room. What Guards are set, what Watches do they keep? They do not think Thee safe, though locked in Sleep. Would they confine Thy Dreams within to dwell, Nor let Thy fancy pass their sentinel? Are Thy Devotions dangerous? Or do Thy prayers want a Guard? These faulty too? Varlets, 't was only, when they spoke for You. But lo a Charge is drawn, a day is set, The silent LAMB is brought, the Wolves are met. Law is arraigned of Treason, Peace of War, And Justice stands a Prisoner at the Bar. This Scene was like the passion-tragedy, His Saviour's Person none could Act, but he. Behold what Scribes were here, what Pharisees! What bands of soldiers! What falls witnesses! Here was a Priest, and that a Chief one; who Durst strike at God, and His Vicegerent too. Here Bradshaw, Pilate there: This makes them twain, Pilate for Fear, Bradshaw condemned for Gain. Wretch! couldst not thou be rich, till Charles was dead? Thou might'st have took the Crown, yet spared the Head. Th' hast justified that Roman judge; he stood And washed in Water, thou hast dipped in Blood. And where's the slaughter-house? Whitehall must be, Lately His Palace, now His Calvary. Great Charles, is this Thy Dying-place? And where Thou were't our KING, art Thou our MARTYR there? Thence, thence Thy Soul took flight; and there will we Not cease to Mourn, where Thou didst cease to be. And thus, blessed Soul, he's gone: a Star, whose fall, As no eclipse proves ecumenical. That Wretch had skill to sin, whose Hand did know How to behead three Kingdoms at one blow. England hath lost the Influence of Her KING, No wonder that so backward was Her Spring. O dismal day! but yet how quickly gone? It must be short, Our SUN went down at Noon. And now, ye Senators, is this the Thing So oft declared; Is this your Glorious King? Did you by Oaths your God, and country mock, Pretend a Crown, and yet prepare a Block? Did you, that swore you'd Mount Charles higher yet, Intend the Scaffold for His Olivet? Was this, Hail Master? Did you bow the knee That you might murder Him with loyalty? Alas! two Deaths! what cruelty was this? The axe designed, you might have spared the Kiss. London, didst thou Thy Prince's Life betray? What? could thy Sables vent no other way? Or else didst thou bemoan His Cross? then, ah! Why wouldst thou be the cursed Golgotha? Thou once hadst Men, Plate, Arms, a treasury To bind thy KING, and hast thou none to free? Dull beast! thou shouldst, before thy Head did fall, Have had at least thy Spirits Animal. Did You, ye Nobles, envy Charles His Crown? Jove being fallen the Punie-gods must down: Your rays of honour are eclipsed in Night, The Sun is set, from whence You drew your Light. Religion vails herself; and mourns that she Is forced to own such horrid villainy. The Church and State do shake; that Building must Expect to fall, whose Prop is turned to Dust. But cease from Tears. Charles is most blessed of men; A God on Earth, more than a Saint in heaven. Vota Phileireni Anglici. a Faedere Matrimoniali, cum Galliâ inito. LIlia Cârle, b Foedera tulit domus Lancast. & Ebor. Rosas Henrice, & c Scotiae & Angliae. Regna Jacobe Junxistis; coeänt Lilia, Regna, Rosae. Associata diu maneant, unáque morentur Grata, virescentes, Lilia, Regna, Rosae. Sit CAROLUS Magno Major, sit Maximus, & quo Nomine Roma stetit, Roma superba ruat. Te d Hyberniae. Lyra mulcet, auétque e Scotiae. Leo, obseruántque f Angliae. Leones, g Galliae. Insignia in scuto Regio. Lilia cúmque Rosis Te recreare student: Una Fides, consórsque Salus, Deus unus jernum, Scotum, Anglum, Wallum, Pace vigente beent. Consilium Phileireni Anglici. REgi Sceptra, Deus Regi sacraverat Enses, * {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman}. Quae Regis Regi redde, Deique Deo. Vaticinii Votivi Palaemonis Coronis. VEr rediît, spiránsque Pater per cuncta vigorem Cynthius, obliquum jam penè retrogradus orbem Exegit; vicibúsque suis nova pensa revolvens Dispulit è Coelo nimbos, Terráque fugavit Squallentes Hyemis vultus, Austrósque furentes: Ex quò jam meliore olim concepta PALAEMON Spe sua vota fovens, animo tua fata recurrit, Gens Britonum malesana, & te miratur in illis Non periisse malis, & adhuc spirantia vitae Signa dare, ac propriis nondum occubuisse ruinis. Jam propè bis senas variis erroribus actam Latonam peragrâsse Domos stellantis Olympi, Flora redux, Floraeque suis Philomela querelis Indivisa comes, torpenti nunciat Anglo: Ex quo, Fatorum non sat benè conscius, oris Tunc discedenti batauûm Tibi Vota PALAEMON CAROLE justa dedit: sed quamvis justa, supremo Res aliter tunc visa Jovi qui fata gubernat. Quippe ausis nimiùm laxas immisit habenas Criminibus, totámque dedit cumulare furorum Mensuram Sceleri, Vindicta ut grandior aequas Indicet poenas Titanum crimine lapsis. Sic visum est: ut quae nimiâ torpedine damni Conscia Plebs fuerat proprii, mutabile vulgus (Sed nimis heu! serò tandem!) sua fata doleret: Sic visum est superis: majori ut CAROLUS astris Insereret radio caput immortal coruscans; Quadruplicique inter divos fulgente Coronâ Martyrii aeternam sacro in Diademate palmam Necteret, & veros ferret de Morte Triumphos. Sic visum est: ut Tu cui Jus Virtúsque secundum CAROLE jam spes nostra, Locum Titulúmque dedêre, Herculeos primá tentans cum pube Labores, Dignus Avis & Patre, Tuis scelerata Triumphis Colla Rebellantum calcares, Justáque tandem Supplicia infers vindex Titanibus istis; Quorum ausis eversa jacent Tria Regna: prophano Quae aggressi (ceu Thessalicis x dextra Gigantum Montibus avulsum substravit Pelion Ossae) Consiliò junxisse simul; Sacrúmque Cacumen Scandere in his Sceptri * In binis eâ de re conciliis habitis, Vxbridg. & Westmon. violatâ Pace Britanni, Et Regum diuûmque imâ radice revulsas Evertisse Domos, atque altitonantis Olympi Derisisse minas, complêsse & caedibus Orbem Pacis amatorem, Pacisque insignia * Beati Pacifici. Sacris Gestantem in Titulis. Ah! Quis nam talia fando Temperet à lacrymis? Sed Tu qui fata gubernas, Summe Pater, rerúmque gyris moderamine justo Ac sapiente praees, quondam haec versurus in usum Permittis meliorem: atrox sua poena sequetur Ausa nefanda, olim & seros vindicta nepotes Abjurare Patrum detestarique docebit Nomen, & aeternis viventia crimina chartis. Talia, sed volvens animo majora, PALAEMON Verba, animi testes, moestas ad Tamesis oras, Tristior ipse ciens (nam tunc in Tamesis oris Luctus eum tenuit, postquam Te CAROLE, nobis Eripuit violenta manus, Caelóque locavit) Cantabat. Sed quis valeat cantare dolendo? Dúmque silent Nymphae attonitae? vel arundine motâ Ceu cantus imitata Syrinx peccâsse veretur; Hispidus obscuro latitat dum Glaucus in antro Fata gemens Britonum: dum sparsae hinc indè Napeaes In fontes oculos vertunt, Dryadúmque choreae In cursus incompositos, & Panis amores In luctus abeunt; dum Nereüs ipse Tridentem Excussum cecidisse timet; dum stagna profundis Penè refusa vadis Divisos orbe Britannos Concutiunt, mersámque videt sub pondere Gentem Quam magè dilexit terris ille omnibus unam. Talia quis valeat calamos inflare videndo? Quis lacrymas cohibere? istas linque ergò PALAEMON Et batauûm citus adnando te transfer in oras. Hic & enim amissi radians ut Imago Parentis CAROLUS alter adest, cujus spes Gloria nostras Eriget exoriens, Tempestatúmque furentes Dispellet nimbos, & reddet gaudia Coelo Atque solo Britonum, postquam satis ira Deorum Saevierit, Dextráque Jovis jam fracta revellent Pectora vindictam minitantes sontibus ignes. Hîc erit & votis locus amplior, hîc & Apollo Agnataeque novem, tranquillâ Pace fruuntur, Litora tuta silent illic. Dúmque ora tueri Principis & sacro dabitur Tibi lumine vultûs Posse frui tandem meliores fistula cantus Exeret, & calamos inflabunt vota, PALAEMON, Tunc magè certa tuos; seu se se accingere Marti Ille paret, laesósque Patris cum sanguine manes Lustrare, ac, Vmbris offerre piacula Tantis: Seu Pedibus prostrata ferox Audacia, Sacram Porrigat, Illiúsque legat Clementia, Olivam. Ad ANGLOS jam novennali Bello Civili inter se dissidentes. {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman}. TErtia ter jam dissidiis Civilibus aestas Exarsit, nec Hydrops spoliis discordia vestris Insanam propè rupta sitim satiare valebit, O Britones! certè vos infelicia Trojae Fata manent, decimum si tandem insanus in annum Vos furor hic rapiat, nec saevo parcere ferro Pacis amor, diuúmque metus, Rectique cupido Edoceant, propriae metam & posuisse ruinae. Una medela tuis superest tantùm, ANGLIA, damnis: Da Regi Sua Jura Pio, da Justa PARENTI. FINIS. * Allnsio ad nomen Angl. Vot●s.