THE CHARACTER.
THe
Lords and
Commons having had their doom,
The banish'd
Romans since supply their room,
And in full
Herds they publiquely appear,
Bearding both
Protestant and
Presbyter;
Yet do not so resent the soul Affront
To take up
Armes and make Rebellion on't:
Nor do not sleep but by the
Drum and
Fife
To keep thy Throat from bloody
Jesuit's Knife;
Though Murther be in us a bloody Fact,
In holy
Priest it is an holy Act,
If
Priest and
Knife be consecrated, then,
By
Blood and
Massacre they Heaven win,
When we poor Souls ar damn'd for the same Sin
Who would not be a sacred
Priest to
Rome,
When they can save or give Eternal doom?
Make
Virtue damn'd, and meritorious
Vice,
They snatch from
Hell and send to
Paradise.
And more to compleat their further Glory,
They call and take a touch in
Purgatorie.
Since that they Bug-Bear
Parliament was fled,
Bold was the man durst say, That
Godfrey's dead,
Or in
Rome's Slaughter house his Blood was shed,
Or Priests contriv'd to have him murthered.
Or who dares say, The
Temple was on fire
By the contrivance of some Priest or Fryar?
To burn
Commissions hid in
Langhorn's Room,
To blind the
Plot, and clear the
Lords of
Rome?
O! People all so weak as not to see
Your selves betray'd by your own Foolerie!
Contending with your
King, his Laws and Power,
Intrenching on his
Prerogative each hour;
Flying i'th Face of his Supremacy,
With sawcy
Libelling and
Ribauldry.
The seed o'th Serpent is abroad again,
To teach young Colt his black Rebellion,
Form'd and begot i'th old damn'd
Stallion:
Whose pregnant Issue's quick and nimble sence,
Exactly copies their
Syre's Impudence:
Treading his
Steps with a full strong source,
Flyes in the Face of
Majesty in course:
The
young out-throwes the
old at least a Barr;
For they but only 'gainst the
King made War:
But these young
Start-ups in bold and thundering words,
Dare both the
King, his
Bishops and his
Lords;
And would subvert at once, and at one hour
The
Royal-Office and the
Supreme Power;
Make King and Peers but Cyphers in the State,
And they the powerful Figures of Debate.
Traytor and
Presbyter do seem two things;
But equal is the venom of their stings.
Against
Prerogative they plead Priviledge,
That Fatal By-blow with a double edge.
The Infatuated
Jewes, their sence being gon,
Made War among themselves, and still fought on,
Till they were conquered by
Vespasian.
So You fall out, like senceless stones and stocks,
Flying at each other even like Dogs and Cocks:
To satisfie
YOƲR Pride,
WEE split on Rocks.
In short, Fanatique's Character is this,
THEY'RE Cursed Obstacles o'th Nations Bliss.
FINIS.