The Tory-poets a satyr.

THE EPISTLE TO THE TORIES.

I Could find no fitter Persons to Dedicate this Poem to then your selves, and that for several reasons; First because you account your selves men of Parts, and Iud∣ges of Wit; and indeed (to keep the World in its usual Course) we will yeild you to be so; for in all ages some Fools have had preferment, mad Men have been Iudges, and Knaves have been Honourable: To talk Baw∣dy; whore, Lye, &c. are your natural accomplishments; but those more solid endowments that beautifie a rational Crea∣ture, viz. Learning; and Exercise of right Reason, are of little value to you, who can speak Nonscence by Patent, Slander by Prerogative, and Lye by Commission: Iudg of Wit then as much as you please, since none but Fools and Knaves will be guided by your judgment: For it is well

enough known, that your Wit is as thin as your Skulls, and your Skulls as thin as your Estates; and that thin enough all know. Take a Tory from a Pot of Ale, and he's out of his Element; and when his Catalogue of Oaths in his com∣mon place-Book are ended, he is as indispos'd and unfit for any kind of Company, as the Asses Mouth was for Food when it had been eating of Thistles. Another reason may be, because it treats chiefly of your Champions, the Pillars of your faction, the supporters of that great Mass of Kna∣vish Politicks that keeps alive the Good Old Tory Cause; but I think (if you are no better Poets then you are Poli∣titians, and no better States-men then Divines) the late joynt endeavours of the Stage and Pulpit, will prove very in∣effectual to the accomplishment of your designs! a lack a day! what pitty 'tis so much Labour and Divine sweat should be spent for just nothing! that ever the zealous Preacher should screw up his jaws, thump his Pulpit, and Divinely rail at Forty one, and it have no other effect, then to serve in∣stead of a pleasing murmur to loll the drowsie females asleep, whilst all his Congregation of half-drunk Bullies are devout∣ly snoaring in their Pews. But what damned incorrigible wretches are these Whiggs, they are not moved at the least with the numberless Satyrical Epilogues and Prologues, that are roared out on the Stage: Notwithstanding we have Plays stuft as full of Burlesques upon the Ignoramus Ju∣ries, the Salamanca Doctor, &c. as a Courtier is of Non∣senc and Knavery; these head-strong wretches keep on their way, though the Whelps bark their guts out▪ if they call them Rogues, Rebels, and Traytors, they turn a deaf ear to all their clamours, and answer them (as wise men do fools) with silence. But the final Catastrophe of our divi∣sions will prove who were the Rebells; when Plots shall be unravell'd, and Court intrigues expos'd to the view of the

world; when the private Machinations of indigent Clocks-combs shall be made manifest, and truth shall once more appear on the Stage; then I doubt those persons, who now go under the Name of Loyallists, will be as obscure as their Knavery is now publick. But all are Traytors now that speak against Arbitrary Government; if they see their pri∣viledges, their rights, their liberties going to be taken from them, they must hold their peace and sit down like contented asses, and bear what burthens the Courtiers and a few small States-men will lay on their Shoulders; and this must be born with Patience, and let the burthen gall our Shoulders nev••r so much, we are Rebells if we but so much as winch un∣der it; if a man hear bad Counsel given (which is the poi∣son of Government) he must hold his peace, and see those liberties left him free by his Ancestors taken from him and his Posterity; he must contentedly see the Throne enslaved, the Nobility Vassals, and the Commonalty lackey after a company of Arbitrary Debauches, and if he shew his dislike of it, he is a Rebell. But when the fatal Dagger is about to pierce my soveraigns Breast, am I Rebel if I stop the blow? Am I a Traytor if I discover the Designs and Plots of our Enemies against the Government and my Prince? But you shall hear what even Mr. Bays himself speaks of Arbitra∣ry Government and those that, are the Supporters of it in his Spanish Fryar. pag. 61.

Should not a lingring Fevour be remov'd; Because it long hath rag'd within my Blood? Do I Rebel when I would thrust it out? What, shall I think the World was made for one, And men are born for Kings as Beasts for Men; Not for Protection but to be devour'd? Mark those who dote on Arbitrary Power,

And you shall find'm either hot brain'd Youth Or needy Bankrupts, servile in their greatness, And Slaves to some, to Lord it o're the rest. O Baseness! to support a Tyrant Throne, And crush your free-born Brethren of the World: Nay, to become a part of Usurpation; To Espouse the Tyrants person and his crimes, And, on a Tyrant, get a race of Tyrants To be your Countries curse in after Ages.

Now if Mr. Bays dares go so far, I hope I (who have always an aversion to wooden Shoos, and to be reckoned in the number of French Camels) may call them Traytors, Rebels, Betrayers of their Country, egregious Knaves, and infamous Scoundrels: But suppose (which Heaven grant may never come to pass) there should be such a thing as Rebellion in England, we should then see how those Gou∣ty-Leg'd Divels, called Courtiers, would tilt at th•• R••bels; Then the awful presence of Majesty must d••f••nd its self, while those Ingrates that have been nourished by its favour do leave it succurless; for who are cherishers of such a Fa∣ction but despicable pusillanimous wretch••s, Natural Cow∣ards, that cannot endure the Fatigues of a long and tedious Campaign, whether Honour calls forth the Heroe? But (as Mr. Bays says) they are needy Bankrupts, and tempt∣ed by preferment; what wont such Whores-Birds do? How powerful are the Charms of enticing Gold? Ah, what a Heavenly refreshment are a few Guinies to a decay'd Gentleman! even as delicious as the reverend Doctors Comfortable Importance is to a languishing Divine. 'Tis only want, that makes a Loyal Tory, and so ma∣ny Mercinary Scriblers; and pray how long doth their Loy∣alty last? e'en just as long as their Coat and their Money;

when the one is thred bare and the other spent, and by their Loyalty they are in no hopes of procuring another, then for a little cash they will cut the Throat of the best Lord in the Land, Whigg or Tory, 'tis all one; men that are like to be Shipwrackt upon the Rock of Hunger are desperate, but now none are His Majesties Loyal Subjects, but such who are daily drunk with drinking his Health, (though they cheat the Vintner for it) and that never so well done, as when it is set of with the best flowrish in their Rhetorick, a fashionable Dam me. But now I could heartily wish I had some of Mr. Bays his confidence, that I might speak in the praise of my own Poem, as he doth of his, indeed a rotten Post covered with Brass goes through all wea∣thers, but I am no fond fool of my own Issue; I shall e'en speak not one word in its commendation, but let it shift for praise in the World as it's Brethren have done before it. I cannot expect any Tory should speak in its praise, since it treats most of Fools and Knaves and then it is impossible they should read it, but they must read their own Characters. Or how can I expect any fvaour in the world, when the in∣comparable Absalom Senior was so spoken against? but by whom was he spoken against, by whom, why by the nonsen∣cical Observator, and the thrice stupid Heraclitus; but I write not to please these Ideots, if I please the best I have my end, and one smile of theirs is able to weigh down all the others frowns.