A DIALOGUE

BETWEEN THE

CITIES OF LONDON AND PARIS,

In Relation to the present Posture of Affairs, rendered into Verse, and made applicable to the Disturbances which now seem to threaten the Peace of Europe. Written by a Person who has no Money to pay Taxes in Case of a War. [From a Folio Edition, containing thirteen Pages, printed in London, 1701.]

THE PREFACE.

PREFACES have formerly been made use of to clear up some obscurities which have crept into the body of the books they belonged to, and let the reader into the author's design. But as there is no occasion for such a plea, either to vindicate my present intentions, or illustrate what is so obvious to every man's understanding, that has any knowledge from the news-papers of the publick transactions, I shall forbear making comments in prose, upon that which is no otherwise clouded with verse, than the common performances that run about the town so merrily, as pieces of scandal have of late.

I ought, indeed, to account for my making cities speak, when their inhabitants have tongues loud and capable enough of expressing their dissatisfactions at some proceedings, which are like to embroil them in a new war, and be very burthensome to their pockets, which they, probably, might wish to have loaden with more agreeable things than taxes, which are the likeliest methods imaginable to make them too light for those whom they belong to. But since Chaucer's birds and beasts have lately been talkative, and spoke their minds with a sort of assurance and freedom, I presume I may take the liberty to give stones the same privilege, which is altogether as poetical. But as some expressions, probably, may give occasion to some people who are subjects for satyre, and make them very ready to run down and decry them, so I must let them know something of my sentiments, and acquaint them, that its two combatants business to try which can cut deepest, and it has been the custom of every Roman gladiator, to take care, Ne parma caderet, that he should not drop his guard, and lay himself open to his enemy's attacks. This, I hope, will excuse the freedom one city takes with another; and since he, who has set them together by the ears, has taken care, like a true-born Englishman, to state the case so, as to make his own countryman's side the strongest, it is hoped, the English reader will give the design his favourable interpretation,

especially since the autoor has as little to get by a war (being no military man) as he has hitherto got by the peace.

London.

THOU City, whose aspiring turrets rise,
And next to mine are nearest to the skies,
Tell me from whence our mutual discord flows,
And two so near ally'd must act like foes?

*

Paris.

Ah! sister, while we two divided stand,
And diff'rently support a diff'rent land,
While Holland's quarrels England's treasures drain,
And France remits her Louis d'Ors to Spain,
What hopes are left of seeing peace restor❜d,
Or that our rival Kings will sheathe the sword?

London.

Our Kings will surely do as sov'reigns shou'd,
That earnestly advance their subjects good;
Not seek for measures to perplex the throne,
And for another's quiet lose their own.
Suppose two distant countries can't agree,
What are their private feuds to you or me?
E'en let 'em by themselves maintain the fight,
And each with arms in hand assert its right;

We, that are neighbours, should like neighbours prove,
And study commerce, as we practise love.

Paris.

But ties of blood, and friendship's laws, enjoin
Those that are Philip's + en'mies should be mine;
Here the young Prince first suck'd the vital air,
Ordain'd from hence to fill the regal chair,

And ought, from hence, to be with aid supply'd,
Since justice, birth, and merit take his side.

Yonder 's a land, from whence your monarch drew

His infant breath, and is that land untrue?

What e'er he speaks or acts has their applause,
And life and fortune wait upon his cause;

While he for arbiter of fate is own'd,

And reigns a sov'reign || where he 's not inthron'd.
Why should not my affection be the same,

Since there is no distinction in their claim,

As I a native's right with zeal pursue,

And practise what should be perform'd by you?

.

London.

'Tis own'd that natives should for natives stand,
Where nature pleads, and justice binds a land;
But when a prince, by mean clandestine ways,
Ascends a royal throne, and scepter sways;
When vows and oaths are reckon'd things of course,
And a forg'd will* is valid and of force,
Your bonds and obligations are as void,

As if a foreigner the throne enjoy'd;

Since what's unjust deserves an equal scorn,

From those in France, as those without it born;
If perjury 's the same in diff'rent climes,
And Paris should abhor Parisian's + crimes.

Such is thy Philip when my William's name
Fills ev'ry tongue and swells the voice of fame.
Bold is his soul, yet peaceful is his mind,
Forgetful of himself for human kind;
Ready for war, when honour sounds alarms,
But, for his subjects ease, averse to arms,
Unless their safety wings him to the field,

And kingd oms skreen themselves behind his s hiel.

As Lewis grasps at the terrestrial ball †,

And's not content to rise, unless we fall.

Paris.

Presumptuous wretch, thy base reflexions spare,
Monarchs, like mine, are heav'n's peculiar care,
As heav'n's vicegerents they its image bear.
Born to be kings by God's own act || they reign,
And from their high descent their scepters gain:
Not call'd to govern by the people's choice,
Or holding crowns precarious from their voice:
Survey my prince, if thou can'st bear the sight
Of lineaments, so awful and so bright,
And stand amaz'd at features that surprise
The most audacious looks and daring eyes,
And vindicate their kindred to the skies.

Is there a line ignoble in his face,

Or what's degenerate from Bourbon's race?

Is there a thought admitted to his soul,

That prompts him to commit a deed that's foul?
Or can a mind so prodigally good,

That has for other's rights so bravely stood;

See this well explained in the Rights of the House of Austria to the Spanish sug eession, beginning on page 483, in this volume.

Alluding to the bloody Bartholomew massacre of the Protestants at Paris, at a time when all seemed to live in peace.

Universal monarchy.

This is the doctrine of absolute monarchs, who pretend to an hereditary right, not only to the crown, but to the liberties and properties of their subjects, by divine right, of that they are commissioned by God to inslave their subjects.

That kings exil'd maintains within his court,
And gives thy abdicated prince' * support;

Submit to methods of so vile a fame,

When armies might make good his grandson's † claim,
And troops innumerable seize a crown,

Which must have been 'without a will' his own?
He swore, indeed, exclusive of his right,

And promis'd France and Spain should ne'er unite;
And still he keeps religious to his oath,

Since there are different kings that govern both,
And in their separate thrones distinctly shine,
Though both proceed from one illustrious line.

London.

Not that I'd wrongfully crown'd heads abuse,
Or due respect to regal titles lose,

But, when fictitious births, as true, are feign'd,
And Bourbon's blood with Mazarine's is stain'd.
When a Queen's fame a just suspicion brings,
And lustful priests beget lascivious Kings,
I stand excus'd, and guiltless are my thoughts,
If I affirm a certain King has faults,

And fall off from the deference he might claim,
Did not the father's birth the mother's shame;
As the lewd statesman § took his master's place,
And dash'd with infamy the regal race.

All must allow, as it by all is known,
That Lewis was begotten to a throne;
And from his very being was ordain'd,
To wield the scepter where he long has reign'd.

Yet all must likewise hold this maxim good,
That merit is superlative to blood;
And it's much nobler to deserve, and gain
Crowns, the rewards of hero's toils and pain,
Than idly be beholden to his birth,

And owe to nature what is due to worth.

We grant that our Nassovian hero || came,

And trod unbeaten ways to purchase fame;

Through devious paths in quest of crowns appear❜d:
But he deserv'd the more, the more he dar'd,

As he through joyful crouds to empire rode,
And shew'd the people's voice the voice of God;
Whilst thy inglorious monarch sat at home,
And meditated over ills to come,

Unweary'd with the mischiefs he had done.

James. + Philip's claim to Spain. * See the first note in the foregoing page. Cardinal Mazarine was the supposed father.

King William the Third, Prince of Orange and Nassau.

}

VOL. X.

kk

With his insatiate strumpet by his side,
To feed his lust, and gratify his pride.
What if thy master looks austere and great,
And he seems pointed out to reign by fate?
What if his eyes majestically roul,

If no kind beams of goodness grace his soul?
If his base mind, possess'd by thoughts unclean,
Darkens the brightness of his shining mien,
And 'tis but just, that monarchs should provide
For those their wicked arts have led aside.
Two Kings, it's granted, in two kingdoms reign,
And one's inthron'd in France, and one in Spain;
Different in person, but the same in mind,
As the same principles run through the kind,
And spread their venom, and disperse their stains,
To make one's boundless pride swell t'other's veins,
While France creeps slily into Spain's esteem,
And Lewis is not KING, but Lord Supreme t.

Paris.

When threat'ning foes her provinces invade,
'Tis time to look about, and seek for aid;
And where should kindred but on kindred call,
T'avert their ruin, and prevent their fall?
If then my monarch, rous'd from peace's charms,
Has, for his grandson's sake, recourse to arms;
If he foregoes his pleasures to maintain
The sinking grandure of declining Spain,
Over their councils he may well preside,
And, as he is their safeguard, be their guide.

London.

Mistake him not; but take a nearer sight,
And lay his actions open to the light;
Find, if thou canst, amidst his earliest cares,
Ev'n but a thought not selfish in affairs;
Int'rest directs him, and ambition shows

The means by which his predecessors rose,

And climb'd the steps where empire was the prize,
Seemingly loth, but resolute to rise:

His troops are Spain's assistants in pretence,
And cover usurpation with defence;

But times will come, should German armies fail,

And injuries o'er what is right prevail,

When her brave sons, that have so long withstood

The vain attempts of France and Bourbon's blood,

• Madam Maintenon, who lived openly with the King of France, in defiance of God and his holy religion.

+ Sways the councils of the court of Spain.