The foure ages of England, or, The iron age with other select poems / written by Mr. A. Cowley.

The Iron Age

CHAP. I.

THe cup of trembling, which so oft has bin Quaft round about us, is at last stept in, And we must drink the dregs on't; we that be Sever'd from other Nations by the Sea, And from our selves divided by our sin, Need now no forraign foes, wee've foes within. What need an enemy the walls to beat, When the defendents sins doe ope the gate? God, who at first, did man to man unite, Sets man 'gainst man, in a Cadmean fight: Limb jarrs with limb, and every member tries To be above's superiour Arteries; The Elements and humours, that before Made up a compound body, now no more Kisse in an even tempr'ature, but try T' un-make themselves, by their Antipathy. And 'cause divided Kingdomes cannot stand, Our Land will be the ruine of our Land. The State's now quite unhing'd; the Ingineers, That have been ham'ring it these many yeers, Now ply it home, striking while th' iron's hot, And make our jarrs th' ingredients of their plot. Which b'ing contriv'd by some, whom Schism and pride Had long ago inflam'd; now when they spi'd,

The peoples minds inclining to their will, Set on their work, and more, and more instill Sedition, by themselves, and instruments, To fill the peoples minds with discontents; But privately at first, untill, at length, They had increas'd their number, pow'r, and strength.

CHAP. II.

THen first a Meteor with a Sword breaks forth Into this Island, from the boist'rous North; Darting ill influences on our State; And though we knew not what they aimed at, They went to make us Denizons o'th' Tombs, While they religiously possesse our roomes: These, from the entrailes of a barren soile, On an imagin'd wrong invade our Isle, Upon pretence of Liberty, to bring Slav'ry to us, and ruine to our King: Whose yelling throats b'ing choakt, at last, with that Which cures all, Gold; they aimed at A private project, to ingage the rout Of English Scots, to bring their ends about, And spoile the Crown: so what they could not do, By force; by fraud, they slily work us to. They came to help us, that themselves might get, And are deare Brethren; but we pay for it. Hence, hence our tears, hence all our sorrow springs: The curse of Kingdomes, and the Bane of Kings!

CHAP. III.

THen they in publique meet, and 'cause they knew, All their successe upon the people grew, They feel their pulses, and their cures applie, Be't good or bad, still to their phantasie; What e're they love to praise, and what they hate, In every act to give a jerk at that. What e're they would have done, must not b'impos'd By humane Law, but with Religion gloz'd; And when Lawes penall are too weak to do it, Then their Lay-Levites presse the Conscience to it; Who are maintained to preach, and pray, and pray, As if they had Commissions of Array, From Heav'n, to make men fight; they cry, Armes, armes, What e're's the Text, the Uses are alarmes; Though they seem pale, like Envy, to our view, Their very pray'rs are of a sanguine hue. And though they've Iacobs Voice, yet we do find They've Esaus hands (nay more) they 've Esaus mind. Their empty heads are Drums, their noses are In sound, and fashion, Trumpets to the warre: These dangerous fire-brands, of curst sedition, Are Emissaries, to increase division: These make Gods Word their pander, to attain The fond devices of their factious Brain: Like Beacons, being set themselves on fire, In peoples minds, they uproares straight inspire. Or, like the Devill, who, since from heav'n he fell, Labors to pull mankind, with him, to hell: In this beyond the Devill himself they go, He sow'd by night, they in the day-time sow.

He while the Servants slept, did sow his tares, They boldly in Gods Pastors sight sow theirs. They've tongue-ti'd Truth, Scripture they've made a glasse, Where each new Heresie may see his face.

CHAP. IX.

THey make long speeches, and large promises, And giving hopes of plenty, and increase; Cherish all discontented men at hand, To help all grievances; they crouch, and stand Congying to all, and granting every Suit, Approve all Causes, Factions; and impute All scandalls to the Court, that they're unjust, And negligent, giv'n to delight and lust; And what's done there (to give the more offence) They still interpret in the worser sense. In all they make great showes of what they'l do, They'l hear the poor, and help the needy too: For in all civill Discords, those that are Disturbers, alwaies counterfeit the care Of Publike good; pretending, they will be Protectors of the Peoples Libertie; The Priviledge o'th' State, the good o'th' King, The true Religion; yet all's but to bring Their owne designes about: they'l ruine all, That they may rise, though the whole Kingdome fall. By these delusions, us'd with dext'rous Art, They drew all factious spirits to their part: The childish People gazing at what's gay, Flock to these showes, as to a Puppet-Play; Like drunken men, they this way, that way reele, And turne their minds, as Fortune does her wheele.

They long for noveltie, are pleas'd with showes, And few truth, from truth-seeming Error knowes. Their love (like French-mens courage) does begin Like powder, and goes out, as soon 's 'tis in. The thing or person, whom they dearly love, Within a moment hate, and disapprove: They measure every Action by th' event, And if they're crost by some ill accident; Whoever serves them, nere shall recompence, With all his vertuous deeds, one slight offence. So wretched is that Prince, that Church, that State, That rests upon their love, or on their hate. They'l all be Kings, and Priests, to teach and sway Their Brethren, but they can't indure t' obey, Nor rule themselves; and that's the only cause, Why they've pluck'd down Religion, and the Lawes, And yet will settle neither; that they might Have faire pretences to make people fight: For, by this cunning, every factious mind Hopes to find that, to which he's most inclin'd; They like Miscellionists, of all minds bee, Yet in no one opinion can agree; Their Planet-heads they in Conjunction draw, As empty Skulls meet in a Golgotha. Each head his severall sence, though senslesse all, And though their humors by the eares do fall, In this they jump, to disobey and hate What ere's injoyn'd them by the Church or State: And all strive to be Reformation-men; Yet putting out one evill, bring in ten.

CHAP. XV.

GReat men, that would be little Kings, did come: Some led by discontent, b' ambition some: Others of ruin'd fortunes, but a mind To pomp, to sloth, and luxury inclin'd; Who long'd for civill warres, that they might be Instal'd in wealth, or we in miserie: These bobtail'd Beares, would faine like Lyons raign, And Clownes would drive, or ride in Charles his Wain. These, by their greatnesse, were the heads of Faction: The Commons must be hands, and feet of Action, That must by force defend, if they had need, Their grand design; Thus on their plots succeed. All humours stir'd, none cur'd; jarr, yet conspire, To be all fuell, to begin the fire; Some go in wantonnesse to see, and some Must go, because they cannot stay at home; Villaines, that from just death could not be free, But by the Realms publique calamitie; They 're like the Milt, which never can increase, But by the bodies ruine or disease; That with our money must recruit their chests, And only in our trouble, have their rests; Such as in luxury, in lust, in play, Have prodigally thrown their states away; Convicted persons, Bankerupt Citizens, That spend their own, and long for other mens: Servants, which from their Masters hither flee, And change their bondage for this libertie: Men of high thoughts, and of a desp'rate mind, Wild Gallants, whose vast thoughts were not confin'd

To'th' Circle of the Lawes; and all, whom want Or guilty Conscience made extravagant, Flock'd in to make up this new Colonie, Where hainous Crimes had got a Jubilee: And as in this, so 'tis in every state, Men of low fortunes envy still and hate The good, extoll the bad, they disapprove All ancient Lawes, and novelties do love: Disdaine their own estates, and envy those, Whose wealth above their ruin'd fortune goes. These are secure from troubles, for they're poore, And, come what can, they can't be made much more. Nor was't a small incentive, to behold How the poor Skowndrells wallowed in Gold; How Kingly in their diet and array, And how they do their betters daunt and sway, To whom they had been vassalls heretofore, And been perhaps relieved from their doore. This made the Peasant, who did work for's hire, Or beg, or steal, leave ploughing, and aspire To imitate the rest as well's he can, First steales a horse, and then's a Gentleman. A young Phisitian well may guesse th' events, Of medicines, made of such ingredients; For how unlikely is't, things should go right, When th' Devills Souldiers for Gods cause do fight. 'Mongst these they stole the hearts of some that be True meaning men, of zeale and piety, Though ignorantly zealous, still possest By their strange Doctrine, that none could be blest That were not Actors, who did neuters stand, God would spue out; Opposers out of hand Should be cut off; No mercy, they decreed, To th' Enemy, though Christ should intercede:

No pardon: but their goods, moneys and all. As guerdon of their facts to them should fall. Wealth, pleasure, honour, that were wont to be The generall spurrs to all Activitie, Were largely promis'd unto every one, Just as they found his inclination. It was esteem'd an ordinary grace, For broken Citz to get a Captaines place. The wealthy Citizens, whose glut'nous eye Gaz'd on the publique faith, that Lotterie, Though they for feare or shame were loth to do it, They'd cut down Boughs, and cry Hosanna to it: They brought their plate and money to this Bank, Hoping for Prizes, but draw forth a Blank. Themselves reserve the Prizes, and this stands Still gaping, like the bottomlesse Quicksands. You might track plate, like beasts, to th' Lyons den, How much went in, but none came out agen? Here was our Primum mobile of woe! This was the Mother and the Nurse on't too! Thus many were drawn in: But those that were, Not mov'd by love, were driven on by feare.

CHAP. VI.

THe adverse part, perceiving their intents, Prepar'd them powers for their own defence. The Gentry for the basenesse they did do, Were quite discountenanc'd, and justly too: They grew degenerate, and Gentility Was but a Nick-Name, or a livery, Which every wealthy Clown might have, and weare, And be stil'd Worshipfull. They took no care

To keep their blood untainted from the stain Of vulgar sordidnesse, and so maintain The glory of their Ancestors, that be Deriv'd to them from vast eternitie; But mixt the Blood that had inrich'd their veines, With each ignoble Slave, or Trull, for gaines. Learning, wit, vertue, birth, report, that be Essentiall bases of Gentilitie, Vail'd all to wealth; and that's the Cause we find, So many rich in purse, so few in mind. How many Justices did wealth advance, That had nothing to show, but ignorance? They liv'd, like Cedars, and their drops from high Made th' poor, like under-woods, to starve and die: That in what place we saw so many poor, Some great man liv'd not farr, we might be sure. Now these that so imperiously did awe, When they perceiv'd men did not care a straw For their commands, but that the shrub began To be as stately as the Gentleman; Then they (though not for conscience sake) oppose Them, that t' infringe the Kingly pow'r arose. The truly noble Heroes (for there be Two contrarieties in each degree) Are by the blindfold people made to beare In suffering (though not in sin) a share; For when the vulgar to be Judges come, Then all must suffer for the fault of some. They quickly saw, when the bold Subject dares Usurp Kings Rights, 'tis time to look to theirs. The vulgar, knowing little, but b'ing led By th' Priests, or Gentry, joyn to make a head Each as his phansie leads him.

Some ambidextrous villaines took one part, And yet held with the other in their heart: Such men desire our Warrs may still increase, And feare of nothing but a needy peace. Mean while the Newters, Jacks of both sides stand, Poysing themselves, on both, yet neither hand, Like Goddesses of victory attend, To take the Conquerors part i'th' latter end. Those that are wisest, were they Argos-ey'd, And (Bythian-like) had every eye supply'd With double sight, yet they could hardly see Which side to take, and save their Bacon free. So betwixt both, these civill warres ore-whelm Th' whole superficies of this wretched Realm: This land that was a Canaan, while 'twas good, Is now the sad Aceldama of blood.

CHAP. VII.

ANd now the great State-gamesters plainly find, All, either stir'd in body or in mind. The instruments prepar'd, to work they fall, Ambiguous oaths (Treasons Originall) They now invent, impose; First men are made To sweare amisse, and then they do perswade, Those oaths bind them to do what these intend, Stretching poor soules to bring about their end. Now jealousies and feares, which first arose From the polluted Consciences of those That were the first contrivers; these divide The limbs from th'Head, nay from themselves beside One won't confide in t'other; this, although It rose from nothing, to a world did grow.

Nor did it lose by th' way; like Balls of snow, It bigger still, as it did go, did grow. Both separate themselves, and each intends Distance, a great advantage to their ends: Those, that had active bin on either side, Are mutually accus'd, sent for, denyed: This makes both stick to what they had begun, And each his course more eagerly did run. First they fall to't by pen, which did incense Both parties with a greater vehemence; From hence names of disgrace at first arose, And each to other made more odious: And the amazed people did invite To lay aside their tedious peace, and fight. They plainly saw the warr, before they could Discern the Cause on't; and they might behold Th' effects, though not the quarrell; they well knew That they must feel the warr, and end it too. Warr, like a Serpent, at the first, appear'd Without a sting, that it might not be fear'd; But having got in's head, begins to be The sole Monopolist of Monarchie. Thus by degrees we ran from peace; to go Downward, was easie; but b'ing once below, To re-ascend that glorious hill, where blisse Sits thron'd with Peace, oh what a labour 'tis. Our floating eyes, in seas of teares, may see The heav'n we 're faln from; but our miserie Does more increase, to Tantalize to th' brink, In happinesse, when yet we cannot drink. Now we must fight for peace, whose worth by most Was not discern'd, till utterly 'twas lost. None know the good of peace, but such as are Broil'd in the furnace of intestine warre.

CHAP. VIII.

NOw having us'd the effeminate warr of words, Which did enlarge the jarrs, at length the swords Apparelling themselves in robes of blood, Sate Doctors of the Chaire, which never stood To heare the Cause, but quickly does decide All that comes near, and without skill divide All individuums. 'Tis a fearfull Case, When undiscerning swords have Umpires place: That have two-edg'd to wound, but have no eye To sever Justice from iniquity. When rage and Ignorance shall moderate, That understand no Syllogisms, but straight Turning all method into curst confusion, Majors to Minors, bring both to Conclusion. And now the great Reformists only care Is how to help those miseries which were Of their own rearing Faction, like a Snake, Stings those, from whom it did a quick'ning take. First, all the Kingdome to a need they draw: Then make that need, they 've brought, their only Law This Mint of Lawes stands not on observation Of Statutes fixt (the Birth-right of our Nation) It's turn'd a warlike Councell, and no more A legall Senate, as it was before. Now S••lus Populi begins to be The generall Warrant to all villanie, Of which themselves are Judges; lawlesse need (The conqu'ring Rebell to all Lawes) does plead A priviledge, what e're they say or do, New need still make them act contrary too.

When any injur'd Subjects did complain, These two Lawes paramount could all maintain. Religion too, and fundamentall Lawes Are both o're-ruled by a Law, call'd Cause.

CHAP. IX.

OUr quarrell is a working jealousie Fixt in a sever'd Kingdome, both sides be So diffident of each, they'l rather die, Then trust each other: such Antipathie Springs from this ground; Subjects dare spill the blood Of their anointed Soveraign, for his good. Th' ungratefull Son, forgetting natures Lawes, Dares kill his Father for the good of's Cause. Fathers their sonnes; and Brothers, Kinsmen, Friends Do seek their Brothers, Friends, and Kinsmens ends. Armes, that long uselesse lay for want of warr, Are now call'd forth, more summoned from farr. English to English are become a terrour; One wicked action is a seconds mirrour. Each strives in mischief to transcend another, And every Christian is a Turk to's Brother. Blowes seldome fall upon a barren ground, But beare centuple crops, they still rebound. Rage begets rage, men do in vice climb higher, And all bring fuell to increase the fire. Conscience rejected, men their forces bend, Which shall the rest in height of sin transcend. Now faith and loyalty grow out of date, And Treason is the Gole that's aimed at. The sacred league 'twixt body and the soule, Which Lawes preserv'd inviolate, and whole,

Is daily broke, and that sweet Bridegroom forc'd From his beloved Spouse to be divorc'd. Each man is drunk with Gallus, and growes mad; Nor can there Hellebore enough be had, To re-instate our reason in its throne; Nor have we sense enough to feel we've none. Th' Age was so vile; the Iron Age of old Compar'd with ours, may be an Age of Gold. We in the times of peace, like th' Ocean, were Impenetrable, till Divisions tare Us from our selves, and did divide us quite, As the Red Sea was by the Israelite. And we, like walls, facing each other, stand To guard our foes, while they devoure our Land. We are like those that vainly go to Law, And spend their Corn, while they defend the straw; We sue for Titles, Castles in the aire, Egg'd on on both sides by the Martiall Lawyer, Who saies, the Cause is good: but what's the fruit? We spend the substance to maintain the Suit. At last, we purchase at so deare a rate, A larger title of an empty State. But oh! the generall Law-Case of our Nation, Doth know no Terme, nor yet our woes Vacation.

CHAP. X.

NAy we can't soon enough our selves undo, But we call others in to help us too. They bring their pocky Whores, and do desire To drive us from our Land by sword and fire. These serve as Umpires, not to worke our peace, But that their wealth may with our Wars increase:

For Forraigne aids, and Contributions are Not to conclude, but to prolong the Warre, All for their own advantage; not t'expire, But (fuell-like) t'increase the fatall fire. We (like the steele and flint) do fall by th' ears, And each by mutuall blowes his fellow wears: Mean while the Souldier (like a wily Fox) Purses the golden sparkles, which our knocks Strike forth: so we must all expect no lesse Then certain ruine, or a sudden peace. These Journey-Souldiers will expect a pay, Nor can fair promises their stomacks stay: Plunder but blowes the flame; they will so farre Ingage themselves in our unnat'rall Warre, That when they end it, it shall be so well, They'l take the fish, and give both sides a shell. They (Phoenix-like) will from our ashes rise, And 'tis our ruine only satisfies Their bloudy minds; and we may justly feare, They will have all, not be content to share.

CHAP. XI.

HOw direfull are th' effects of Civill Warre! No Countries, Cities, Corporations are, Nor Families, but their division's so, That their own selves will their own selves undo. One's for the King, and t'other for the States, And the poor Souldiers, like the Andabates, Fight blind-fold, shoot, are shot, are wounded, die, Only because they do, not knowing why. Yet those whom rage had hurri'd on to stay Each other in the Exodus o'th' day,

Breath with their soules their anger out, and lie Kissing, or hug each other when they die: And though in life they had such enmitie, Meet in one death, and there they both agree. Two Armies now against themselves do fight, For th' publike good, so equall both in might, That betwten both the Kingdom's like to faile, And both to fall, but neither to prevaile: Yet both in disagreeing do consent, To be the Realms continuall punishment. While some, like Camells, take delight to swill Their souls ith' troubled waters of our ill, That are on foot oth' Kingdome, and do rise When that does fall, and on our miseries Do float, like Arks, the more the waves aspire, The more they dance, and are exalted higher. That (Leech-like) live by blood, but let such know, Though they live merry at the Kingdomes woe, 'Tis a sad Obit, when their Obsequies Are tun'd with Widdowes, and with Orphans cries. Woe be to those, that did so far ingage This wretched Kingdome in this deadly rage! That both sides being twins of Church and State, Should slay each other in their fatall hate. This mountain sin will clog their guilty souls, Whose pois'nous breath hath kindled all these coales; And when their souls do from their bodies flie, If they have buriall, (which they so defie, And 'tis more fit their carkas meat should be To Beasts, whom they transcend in crueltie) Posterity upon their tombs shall write, Better these men had never seen the light: 'Tis just that all Achitophels of State, That have his policie, should have his Fate.

CHAP. XII.

THe Sun four times, and more, his course hath run, Since we began to strive to be undone; Since millions, heap'd on millions, do concur T'increase the sinewes of this too strong War: The glutted ground hath been parboild in bloud Of equall slaughters, victory hath stood Indifferent Arbiter to either side, As if that heav'n by that had signifi'd, Both were in fault, and did deserve to be Both overthrowne; not crown'd with victory. While Saw-pit Warriours blind the peoples eyes, On both sides with mock-victories, and lies; And tell us of great Conquests, but they be Totall defeats giv'n by Synechdoche: VVhen one side is the Master of the field, T'other striv'd to recruit, but not to yeeld; And which soever won, was sure to lose, The Conquests being the Conq'rors overthrowes: Skirmishes every day, where Souldiers get Salmatian spoiles, with neither blood nor sweat: To overcome by turnes both sides agree, Horses are taken, but the men go free. Towns have been lost and won, and lost and won, VVhole Counties plunder'd, thousands been undone, All to no purpose: warres still keep their course, And we instead of better, grow far worse: VVar does the nature o'th' Abeston hold, VVhich being once made hot, growes never cold. VVe have a Lease of lives on't, our heires be Intitled to our plagues, as well as we,

By lineall succession. Peace is quite Ejected from possession of her right; Passion's like heavy bodies; down a hill Once set in motion, doe run downward still: The Quarrell's still inflam'd, Jealousies And Fears increase, Malice doth higher rise: VVant comes upon us arm'd: Humanity Dissolves to savagenesse; Friendship doth lie Trod underfoot; neither can Natures force, Or consanguinity, beget remorse, Or un-inrage mens fury; now the Sword Is Lord Chief Justice, and will not afford Law the copartnership; for none must be Primate or Metropolitan, but he. Lawes are but ligaments of peace, which are Broken (like threads) by all in time of VVarre.

CHAP. XIII.

PLundring, that first was licenc'd by that Cause, That turnes ev'n lawlessenesse it selfe to Lawes, Spurr'd on by need, and sweetned by the gaine, Growes Epidemicall, and spreads amaine. It slights the difference of friends and foes, And like an uncurb'd Torrent, over flowes. That which before was Fellonie,'s the same Only new christen'd with a German name. This violent killing men, which was ere while, Condemn'd for murther, now they valour stile. Opposing of a Parliament, they bring Now to be due Allegeance to the King. And who the Kings Prerogative do hate, Are now call'd faithfull Servants to the State.

The King (a syllable that us'd to be Sacred; a name that wore Divinitie) Is banded on the tongue of ev'ry slave, And most by those to whom he quickning gave. The Coblers Crow hath now forgot to sing His 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, but cries, kill the King. He, on whose health, wealth, safety do depend Our health, wealth, safety, and with whose they end: He, whom the everlasting Potter chose A Vessell for himselfe, is by his foes Scandall'd, despis'd: those Phaetons of Pride, Would pull him down, that they might up and ride. Our wealth, the excrement of all our toile, For which, in daies of peace, we did so moile, And care to rake together, ••s quickly gone, Like a scrap't portion on a scatt'ring sonne. Gold, which we made our God, and did adore, Is but a cause to make our Plagues the more; The worldlings Mammon, which (he did suppose) Made him nor love his friends, nor feare his foes, Is now his snare; nay 'tis become a sin, Now to have wealth, which heretofore hath been Our only vertue. We call those good men, That swell'd with goods, not goodnesse; now 'tis grown Our only innocence, if we have none. The idle Souldier doth devoure the store That painfull men have labour'd for before; Unstock the grounds, and clean deface the fields; Th'untutor'd ground scarce any harvest yeelds. The grasse for want of Cattell, dries away, And without labour turnes it selfe to hey: Corn while it growes, is eat or trodden downe; Of if it happen to be reap't or mowne,

Right owners do but toile the more about it, To bring't to them, themselves must go without it: They work, fare, lie hard, all to maintain Knaves, So that at best, they are but Troopers slaves; And now in them is Adams curse made good, They with much labour get a little food. Some men will toile no more to till the ground, Because no profit of it does redound Unto themselves, or (which is worse) for want Of Horse or Hinds, those that would do it can't.

CHAP. XIIII.

ALL which do usher in a famine, that Comes seldome unattended; Graves grow fat, When Captaine Lack comes with his hungry Troop Of fell diseases, and takes people up To victuall death a Garrison; then all That 'scape the Sword, must by the Famine fall. We, to our griefe, shall find that Axiome true, Who die without the sword, die by it it too. Need will create new foes, for hunger growes A warrant to all villany, and knowes No Property nor Right; wrongs legall be By that authentick Law, Necessitie. Spurr'd on by this, no man will passe or care, So he may have't, from whom, how, when, or where. Commanders make a mizmaze of the Warre, And all their battells subtle motions are. If one remove his men, the other will Move after him, and so they follow still; But yet they have a Precept, that confines Each in the compasse of their mutuall Lines,

And not molest each other; they agree To share our goods, and set each other free, By mutuall change. Thus that great Idoll Cause, To whom they've sacrific'd the mangled Lawes Of God and Man, is but a cunning paint, To make a Devill seem a heav'nly Saint. While we like Turkish slaves, are bought and sold, Imprison'd and releas'd, and all for Gold, From one to t'other: Now we need not feare Algier abroad, we have too many here; And what ere they pretend their quarrells are, They only fight which shall have greatest share In our estates, by rapine, and by stealth; And thus they mean they fight forth'Commonwealth. This lacks a house, and that desires a field, And new injoyments new desires do yeeld; The Victors know nor modesty, nor measure Of their desires, but their gain, pompe, and pleasure: No moderation bridles or keeps in The head-strong force of a prevailing sin. And the Commanders too, that ought to be The Remora's to th' Souldiers crueltie, Somtimes transcend the rest in vice, as farre As they b' Authority above them are. Beggars on horse-back, that no art can do, Whereby we may them from inferiours know, But by their injuries, and those do stand As a sure Argument of their Command. Nor fight they as our Ancestors did fight, By force, to get our Law-denied right; But cauponate the Warre; they sell and buy A Town, a Castle, or a Victory. What ere an Enemy shall do or say, Is all for given, if he will but pay,

These Garrisons are Sanctuaries still, To shelter those, that do, and maintain ill. They're Purgatories too; we go about To bring in Popery, while we drive it out.

CHAP. XV.

ANd yet these Souldiers go t' undo us quite, And steale our reason, as they have our right: Both say they fight for our Religion, And Laws, which all our safety stands upon; Yet they'ld bewitch us so, we should not see, That by this warr both violated be, Unlesse we take prophanenesse for the true Religion, and injury for due. If prisonment be liberty, and peace Be made by open warres: if truth increase By new broach't heresies; then Churches are Maintain'd by blood, and Kingdomes rul'd by warre, If in those two a Gordian knot were knit, 'Tis fit that wisdome then should open it, And not the sword. Warr is the Common nurse Of Barbarisme; Souldiers add curse to curse: Those rude Profeffors o'th' reforming Trade, How unfit instruments will they be made To rectifie the Church, that hardly name God, but in Oaths, when wine or wrath in flame Themselves above themselves: or if there are Men of more conscience, then the rest, or care, 'Tis but to gloze their Actions; we all see Their courses are full of impietie. How can we exercise Religion now, When want of Lawes doth liberty allow

To all prophanenesse? Such lewd men as they Have made the Warr a Common Holiday To all licentiousnesse. We hardly can Serve God aright (so vile is every man;) Nor live uprightly in such times as these, Being so wicked in the daies of peace. Is this Religion, when each Souldier dares Become a Bishop, to correct our Prayers, And new-coine all our orders? each retaines A publique Synod in his factious braines. Temples which pious Fathers have erected For Divine VVorships, how are they rejected? Made stalls for horse and men (more beasts then they) Where God did feed his flock, horse feed on hey. Garments to Churches giv'n by Saints, t' adorne The Sheep, by sacrilegious Wolves are worne: And harmlesse Railes, which stood in the defence O'th' Table, from irrev'rent violence, They have thrown down; as if they would allow No railing, but such as from Pulpets flow. VVho e're but sees these acts, must needs allow Gods House was n'ere more den of thieves, then now. Such bad effects, or more pernicious farr, VVe must expect, when an eternall VVarr Cures a divided Church; the victorie VVill prove more pestilent then the War can be.

CHAP. XVI.

OLd Lawes cannot be us'd, or new ones made, VVhen generall lawlessenesse doth all invade, Custome and Liberty have made mens mind Uncapable of curbs; that should we find,

Lawes re-establish'd with a pow'r to sway; Men are more prone to suffer, then t' obey. The eylesse Sword 's unable to decide, But with it's two-edg'd skill it doth divide The Client, not the Cause; Our Liberties Which they pretend to save, before our eyes Are still infring'd; they ev'ry day divorce Us from our livings, by that law call'd Force. Nor have we Judges, to appeal for right, Nor law to live by, but a greater Might: That should we by such courses purchase peace, 'Twould be dear bought at such high rates as these. Nor would I thank their bounty, that present Food, when my body is by famine spent: And all these woes (the more t'augment our Curse) Are but sad Prologues to an Act that's worse. Yet though our woes be great, and still increase, We're not desirous, nor prepar'd for peace; But so bewitched with their fawning knavery, We bind our selves to an eternall slavery: For if that any peacefull Treaties are, Those mannage them that have begun the war; And how unlikely is't, it should succeed, When Malefactors judge, and Traytors plead.

CHAP. XVII.

THe loyall Subjects mourn, and grieve to see The Realm destroy it selfe by policie, To prevent ruine; and will be as far From blowing, as from kindling this our war; Not out of cowardise, or fear to die, But they desire to have a reason why

This Realm is not better preserv'd by peace, Then by such ruine-bringing wars, as these: They see no cause so great, why 'twas begun, As now they doe, why it should soon be done. They love the King in earnest, and believe, His presence doth a perfect essence give To Parliaments; which though they don't adore, They duly honour, and do wish for more, Though not for such: and they think them to be, If right, the Kingdomes sole felicity. They think them not omnipotent, but be Men, Subjects, prone to err, as well as we. They love Religion, and don't hold it fit, To have it alter'd by each Cockscombs wit. They would not have it puppeted with showes, Nor rudely stript start naked of its Cloths; As if there were no better way to cure A Lethargy, but with a Calenture. The Surplice, which so much is rail'd upon, And term'd by some the Whore of Babilon; Wise men will not believe 'tis so; or wer't, Whores smocks will serve to make a Rogue a shirt. Or if whores do weare smocks, we do not know, Why honest people should not weare some too. It is not zeale of those that rob us of it, But 'cause 'twas whorish, therefore they do love it. Oft Preaching is not counted an offence, Least Treason and Sedition flow from thence: For it is known; they that do Faction teach, May (what d'ee call't) but neither pray nor preach. Good Preachers are as contrary to these, As is our Zenith to th' Antipodes. Those like not peace, that go about to draw The Gospell from agreement with the Law.

And would have so much difference betwixt These two, as 'tween their Doctrine and their Text. 'Tis our desire to make them friends againe, That so the Gospell may the Law maintaine. They are (though two) one Word, and should agree, As their two Authors, in one unitie. We hate Court-lazy-Clergy, and withall The new State-Levites, too pragmaticall. We pray for peace, the Physick of our Nation, Not sprung from Warr, but from Accomodation.

CHAP. XVIII.

WHy then? you tott'ring Bases of our Land, Who at this wave-tost Kingdomes Sterne doe stand, Why did you first begin? why do you still With all your force strive to prolong our ill? Can't all our sad Petitions? can our charmes Of people, groaning under the Alarmes of bloodie broiles, nor slaughter'd Subjects cries, Move you to end our endlesse miseries? Sheath up your Swords, and let your quarrells cease, Or drown themselves in a desired peace. The King and State are individuall, And both must needs decay, if one do fall. They're like the twins of old Hypocrates, Both live together, both together cease. And what a glorious triumph 'tis to see Both Prince and People kisse in Unitie! Our God is all-sufficient, and as far In peace he's to be trusted, as in war; He can as well wisdome bestow, and skill, To treat, as pow'r to fight; and as he will,

Both have successe. 'Tis man-like to contest By disputation; force is for a Beast: Those that do save a State from perishing, Do truly love the Kingdome and the King. And as much honour will to those accrue, That save a Kingdome, as that gaine a new. You that are call'd divine; nay Gods, why then Do you degenerate to worse then men? And have no share of what should in you be, The chief of Attributes, just Clemency? Is't not as great a glory, to forget An injury, as take revenge for it? The injur'd Subject would be glad to heare That mutuall love might triumph over feare. What if we have been injur'd heretofore? Must we, to help us, make our wrongs the more? If we were wet before, shall we desire No remedy, but a consuming fire? And can there be no temperate Region knowne, Betwixt the Frigid, and the Torrid-Zone? War is a pleasant Theme to those that do Not what it is, nor what it bringeth, know. But they will get as much that first began These broiles, as he that ploughs the Ocean; Nothing but stormy Billowes. War's a Play, Which both the Stage and Actors will destroy. 'Tis like an Estridge, hot, and can digest Men that are valiant, men of Iron brest. VVould you've Religion? 'tis no godly course To write upon mens consciences by force. Faith is destroy'd, and Love that cemented The Head and Members, now from both is fled. VVhere's then our hope? God did not hold it good, That hands which had bathed themselves in blood,

(Though in a lawfull war) should ever build A Temple to his name: mens braines are fill'd With Faction so; that all who lent a hand To uncreate Religion, which did stand Established by Law; now each is left To his own fancy, how he please to hav't. Now here will be no Church, each pate will be A Crosse to Christ, a second Calvarie. Nor can the earth bring any fruit that's good, When it is dung'd with its own Childrens blood. But how melodiously the accents sound Of Peace, when full-chapt plenty does rebound, And answer like an Eccho!

Peace is the Nurse of Truth, the strength of Lawes; Law, Truth, and Peace, are all Synonoma's. This is the good mans darling, from this springs The wealth of Subjects, and the grace of Kings.

CHAP XIX.

BUt an unbias'd reason may suppose Which side, by th' Sword, does prove victorious; Will so insult o're his inslaved foe, That whatsoever does but make a show Of leaning to't, though in it selfe most good, Will without Law or Reason be withstood. Which side soe're doth rise by to'thers fall, Will still remain too great, and that too small: And such a victory it selfe will be A greater war, a longer miserie. For should the King prevail, 'tis to be fear'd, We justly are from Parliaments cashier'd:

And without those what can we look for, lesse Then an untrue, or else a slavish peace? So while we pole away his naturall power, He's periwig'd with greater, then before. 'Tis the best conquest, when the Prince is Lord Of's peoples hearts, by love, not by the Sword. For what's the King with a full pow'r to sway, When there are left no Subjects to obey? And if the war to th' States a conquest brings, Have at Prerogatives, and pow'r of Kings. For when the Realm is in confusion run, (As it must be, when ere the war is done,) The people, being victors, we shall find, As various in desires, as they're in mind: They'l be controlling still, and still aspire To limit Legall Pow'r, not their desire: And when their Votes are granted, are as far From b'ing contented with't, as now they are. Both King and Magistrate must look to raign No longer then they do their wills maintain: And that Great Councell (if they did intend) Can't bring the stubborn people so to bend T' authority, that any King shall sway By fixed Lawes, they loyally obey; No more then Pilots on the stormy seas, Can guide their cap'ring vessells, where they please. So we (like fooles) while we do Scylla shun, Do headlongly into Charybdis run. For if we can't indure t' obey one King, What shall we do if we a thousand bring?

CHAP. XX.

HOw sad our Case is now! how full of woe! We may lament, but cannot speak, or know: Our God, in whom our peace, our plenty lay, In whom we liv'd, on whom we fixt our stay. Who being pleas'd, our foes became our friends, (All their designes conducing to his ends) Is highly now incenc'd, and will no more Own us for's people, as he did before; But hath deliver'd us to th' hands of those That are our Gods, our Kings, our Kingdomes foes. And we're involved in so many evills, That men turn Souldiers, and the Souldiers devills: 'Tis he that all this variance did bring, The King 'gainst us, and we against the King. A King, so good, so gracious, so divine, That (if 'twere possible) he doth out-shine The glory of his Ancestors, yet he Is bundled up in our Calamitie. Better ten thousands of his Subjects fall, Then he whose life's th' Enchiridion of all. Our Councell's thwarting, and our Clergy heady, Gentry divided, Commonalty unsteady; That alwaies to the rising party run, Like shadowes, Ecchoes to the shining Sun. Religion rent with Shismes, a broken State, Our government confus'd, and those, that hate The Realm, still undermining, those that brought A civill war, which all our ill hath wrought. The King in danger; and the Kingdome roul'd Into inevitable ruine, sold Unto her foes.

Commerce and trade, the sinews of a State, The bane of poverty, growes out of date; Learning's neglected; and the Heptarchy Of liberall Arts, all unregarded lie. Our wealth decaies, yet Souldiers still increase, The more we fight, the farther off from peace; United Kingdomes jarring, and our foes, Laugh at, and labour to increase our woes: A generall jealousie, intestine hate, 'Twixt severall Membess of one wretched State. Both pretend Peace and Truth, yet both oppose; Which, till both do agree on't, no man knowes. Truth is the Child of peace; the golden mean 'Twixt two extremes, which both sides part from clean. The poor, that beg'd relief from door to door, Are like to pine; each rich man to be poor, And many Christians are expos'd (we see) Unto the more then barb'rous Crueltie Of the remorselesse Souldiers, who run on, Like torrents, uncontrolled, and are grown Quite prodigall o'th' guiltlesse blood they draw, Emboldned by the silence of the Law. Streets ring with swearing, one oath brings another, As if one were the Eccho unto t'other. Nor age, nor sex, nor quality they spare, They 're not allur'd by love, nor aw'd by feare. The Carolists, and the Rotunditie Both must be blended in one miserie. They rack, hang, torture men on either side, To make them tell where they their gold do hide. And lovely Ladies cries do fill the aire, While they are drag'd about the house, by th' haire. Some ravish't, others rob'd of their attire, Whose naked beauty 'flames their ba••e desire;

And when they have deflour'd those spotlesse soules, They butcher them: Whole Townes calcin'd to coles: Children that from their mothers first came hither, Are with their mothers by them nail'd together. From wounded hearts a bloudy ocean springs, The King bleeds in our wounds, we in the Kings. Slain bodies naked lie, and scarce can have A Christian Buriall, Kings scarce a grave. Nor have we Zoars to fly to, from ill, But must stay in this Sodome, come what will; Where we in floating blood surrounded lie, Like Islands in a sea of miserie: Nor have we either Bulwarkes, Forts, or Armes, To stand betwixt our sences and our harmes, But our bare skulls; no Trumpets, but our cries, And those can't help, though ease our miseries. Complaint's an easement to a burden'd soule, That vents by retaile, what we feel in whole; So on th' Hydraula's of our dropsi'd eyes, We (Swan-like) sing at our own Obsequies. We powre out tears, and having spent our store, We weep againe, 'cause we can weep no more: Yet all in vain, our griefs do still extend, And know no measure, nor our sorrowes end. Nay, which is more, those that should help all this, Labour to make't more wofull then it is. Peace we may labour for, but nere shall see, Till men from pride and avarice be free. Which since we so desire, and cannot find, Let's make a ladder of our peace of mind, By which wee'l skale that Throne, where peace doth dwell, Roab'd with such joys, which none can think nor tell; Which neither vice can break, nor time decay; Nor Schisme, nor Treason ever take away.

O det Deus his quo{que} finem.