The Waking VISION; or REALITY in a Fancy.
AS I was walking, reading in a Book,
Of all the Plots that
Rome had undertook,
Methought I heard a sudden murmuring Rout,
And curious to behold: I fac'd about,
When soon the Croud did to my fight appear,
With a young
Hero stalking in the Rear.
Their Leader was an Old man, known too well
By that false Trayterous name
Achitophel:
He fac'd about, and waving round his Wand,
The cringeing Rout stood still upon command.
Lieutenant
Absalom forsook the Rear,
And strutting forward, did ith' Front appear.
Thus sixt in their Array, the first that broke
The silence, was
Achitophel; who spoke
With roaring voice, and visage most austere,
When to his Eccho all the Rout gave ear;
All big with expectations, till the bold
Snake-like
Achitophel his story told.
I need not tell you of the case betwixt ye,
If you remember
Forty eight, and
Sixty:
How happy were we in the first of those,
When no man durst our Laws or Wills oppose;
Wills as obliging as the
Persian Laws,
We fought and prosper'd in the
Good Old Cause:
None durst oppose our
Faction, or appear
In vindication of a
Cavalier.
Then all our Party in one humour stood,
To bleed the Nation, tap the Royal Blood.
Till envious Death at last did basely trip
Old
Nol up, with his short
Protectorship.
Then turn'd the Game, and
Monk began to sing
In Loyal Tone, Now Boys
a King, a King!
Against our wills he did by force restore
The
King, to that which was his Right before;
Then all those plaguy Rogues call'd
Cavaliers,
Began to peep abroad, and shake their Ears;
Each one expecting from the
King to be
Rewarded for his Truth, and
Loyalty.
When thus we saw our
Plots go down the wind,
We chang'd our Note, and spake in other kind;
And made the World believe 'twas only We
Restor'd the
King to Crown and Dignity:
When if we could but still have been obey'd,
No
Stuart e're had
Englands Scepter sway'd.
But since what's done, cant be undone again,
Why stand we idle gazing here in vain?
Let's try our wits, and Plot for to obtain
And play the
Old Game over once again:
Do as our Fathers did, come play your parts,
And let the people know you're
English hearts,
That are not given to change. —
Eighty one offers us a mark as fair,
As ever
Forty did: come — strike — prepare,
Take Oaths of Secresie, and Covenant
To ease the Nation of her groans and want.
Right and
Religion, Liberties and
Laws,
Will make the Rout quickly espouse our Cause:
Tell 'em, if they don't stir they're quite undone,
Religion's, ruin'd,
Liberties are gone:
Perswade 'em that the
Pope, and
Popish Train,
Are just returning to the Land again:
That's a pretence ne're fails, but always takes,
And of a Bad Old Cause, a Good one makes.
Now, now's the time; strike up, for if you miss,
You'l never meet a time
so pat as this.
Here's
Popish Plots dis;cover'd and found out,
With
Fears and
Jealousies to charm the Rout;
And soon perswade them all their Lives are lost,
That they must burn like Martyrs at a Post,
Unless they get the
Popish Party quell'd,
That is by
Evil Counsellors upheld:
Here's
Grievance upon
Grievance: these are Knaves,
And those would make the Free-born Subjects
Slaves:
Tell them the
King's a Tyrant, and Oppressor,
And that we have a damn'd
Popish Successor:
The
Parliament's dissolv'd, and we must be
Govern'd by
Arbitrary Tyranny:
But yet be sure to keep you in the shade,
And do whate're you do in Masquerade.
If any
Senator against you s;it,
Be sure to call him
Papist, Jesuit,
Mac-Tory, Protestant in Masquerade,
That would your
Liberties and
Rights invade:
Now one word more, and I have spoke enough,
Go fall to work, for I have found you stuff.
Which having spoke, the Rout was jogging home,
But soon return'd at voice of
Absalom;
Who with audacious tone cry'd, Hark, my Friends,
Come side with me, if you'l attain your ends;
Achitophel shall change and take the Rear,
And I my self will in the Front appear,
And good old
David soon shall know that I
Will be his
Heir, or else I'le bravely die.
What though my Mother was his Concubine?
The fault was hers, I'm sure, it was not mine:
I am his Son, and from his Loins did spring;
I am of Royal Bloud, and will be King:
Do you but help me to obtain the
Crown,
I'le rule by Law, and all your Foes put down;
I'le part the
King and
Councel quite asunder,
And will redress the Griefs you labour under;
If once I can but to the Throne attain,
I'le grant
New Charters, and the Old maintain.
At which the Rout with hallows fill'd the Skies,
And cry'd,
We'l venture all for Liberties:
When suddenly the Rout did disappear,
And all the Coast was in an instant clear.
Then I began to think which was the worse,
Fanatick blessing, or a
Popish curse:
I put them in two Scales to try their weight,
And found the Ballance equiponderate;
But holding them a while, I quickly found
As this was hoisted up, that kiss'd the ground:
Then suddenly I found the meaning out,
This ruines quickly, but that round about:
Then to my mind my thoughts began to sing,
Go haste and what thou'st heard inform the King:
I durst not go, but presently I wrote,
And seal'd it up, and sent the
King this Note.
To the KING.
DRead Sir, if you will Rule this Land in peace,
Expell your Foes, and Friends will soon increase:
Your Ruine does,
Sir, too too plain appear,
Rome leads the Van,
Geneva brings the Rear.
If you'l be safe, you must expell them both,
The
Roman Gnat, and the
dissenting Moth:
And vigorously let them understand,
You are their
King, and will like
King command.
And if you e're expect to gain your Ends,
As well as open
Foes, take heed of
Friends;
I mean a flatt'ring Friend, whose only shew
Makes him a Friend, but really is not so.
Learn by your Father, not to trust to those
That in the end will prove confiding Foes.
Consider on't, you're in a woful straight,
Think but on
Forty one, and
Forty eight.
I only speak this for a Precedent,
For Heav'n I hope will all such things prevent.
You're now the Darling of all Loyal hearts,
And may be still, if you will take their parts:
But if you bear with
Faction, or with
Rome,
And do delay to give them both their doom,
All
Loyal men must suffer by those two,
And be in spight of Fate undone with You.
You must be sure to ruine Both, or none;
If one remain, you're sure to be undone:
For if you ruine
Rome on equal scores,
You shut the
Window, but leave ope the
Doors;
Unless you ruine the
Fanaticks too,
For know one Nation can't hold Them and You.
Those men I fear against your Life combine,
That strive to cross you in your Good design;
And those men sure would yield to put you down,
That tell the People,
You are not their own.
Pardon me,
Sir, if I your quiet break,
For
Poets dare at all Adventures speak.
FINIS.
LONDON: Printed by N. T. 1681.