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That kings exil'd maintains within his court,
And gives thy • abdicated prince'*
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,
Not that I'd wrongfully crown'd heads abuse,
Or due respect to regal titles lose,
But, when fictitious births, as true, are feigo'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 g 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 appearid:
But he deserv'd the more, ibe 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 be 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.
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 fale?
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.
When threat'ning foes her provinces invade,
'Tis time to look about, and seek for aid;
And where should kindred but on kindred call,
Tavert their ruin, and prevent their fall?
If then my monarch, rous'd from peace's charms,
Has, for bis grandson's sake, recourse to arms;
If he foregoes his pleasures to maintain
The sinking grandure of declining Spain,
Over their councils he
And, as he is their safeguard, be their guide.
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'a 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.
Shall wish this friend had been their open foe,
And feel a sad increase of shame and woe.
As they, at last, this just conclusion make,
Lewis turn’d bypocrite for Lewis's sake,
And stood by the succession to the throne,
Not for his grandson's interest, but his own.
The souls of princes are of moulds divine,
And from superior orbs enlighten'd shine;
No scanty beings that confinement bear,
But are enlarg'd as elemental air,
That knows no limit, but what nature bounds,
And fleets about the globe in endless rounds.
Ambition fires 'em, and dominion warms,
And shoots them forth in search of glory's charms,
As fame and greatness claims their sole regard,
And conquest offers-crowns as their reward.
Such thoughts as these thy monarch's breast inspir'd,
And made him nobly seek what he desir'd;
Forc'd him rough seas and tempests to explore,
And try the dangers of thy faithless shore,
Else had he still, contented with his state,
Forborne to do the glorious work of fate,
And sat at home, that burghers might propose
Business for him, that was to scepters chose;
And those illustrious cbiefs *, who swell his veins
With princely blood, that servitude disdains,
Never had shaken off the Spaniard's chains.
This godlike ardor made 'em grasp the shield,
And run to victry, as they took the field,
While they let these † that were their masters see,
They durst revolt, be conquerors, and be free.
If acts, like these, are worthy of applause,
Why should not praise attend my sovereign’s cause,
If lust of empire boils within his soul,
And he slightş half the universe for the whole?
In them such daring thoughts have gain’d esteem,
And ought likewise to be admir'd in bim.
Such are the thoughts that fill thy prince's breast,
And turbulently keep him from bis rest:
Theft, murder, violence, fraud, and perj'ry join,
To push him forward to some mean design,
And prompt him to perform what's scorn'd by mine.)
The Prince of Orange's ancestors, who delivered Holland from the tyranny of Spain. † Spaniards,
'Tis not ambition wings him forth for fame,
But a base niggard soul that covets shame,
That still subjects his reason to his will,
And would be talk'd of, tho' for doing ill;
Desirous to be known in after-days,
And to employ our tongues, if not our praise.
When, if you search my caresul Monarch's mind,
You'll see the noble passions all refin'd,
All of a piece, just, regular, and true,
And fitting for a prince to have in view;
Well temper'd thoughts, not over hot, nor cool,
Ready to act, but acting still by rule;
Wisdom his pilot, and content his guide,
A known experience, and a judgment try'd;
Boundless in wishes for his people's good,
And prodigal of industry and blood;
For their sakes, covetous of being known,
But wholly unambitious for his own.
With grief I speak it, and confess with pain,
Could but my Lewis like thy William reign,
Contract bis wishes, and withdraw his claim
To universal empire, and to fame,
No prince more envied could adorn a crown,
Or have more fair pretensions to renown.
How would my sons within these walls appear,
And gladness be successive to their fear;
If trade could once return into the Seine,
Or Thames his riches be exchang'd for mine ?
Please not thyself with vain delusive schemes,
Nor feed my willing hopes with empty dreams;
Who can expect such welcome joys to share,
When monarchs fatten on the spoils of war?
When in thy courts no treaties are of force,
And solemn leagues are render'd void of course ;
When trade’s deny'd us that's to others free,
And we must lose th’advantage of the sea;
As edicts break through the most sacred ties,
And oaths are trivial things in royal eyes :
As perjury's an act of special grace,
And James the Third has James the Second's place,
For England's king, within thy borders own'd,
Though England has another prince inthron'd,
As soon as King James the Second died at St. Germains, Lewis, the King of France,
ordered James's pretended son to be proclaimed King of Greal-Britain, by the title of
James the Third.
Whose lawful title France would ne'er oppose,
Did she regard the peace, beyond my foes,
What has my prince against his treaties done?
He kept the father, and maintains the son.
Nor arms, nor force, nor treasure does he lend,
Just only to the word he gave his friend *,
Whose dying breath bequeath'd him to his care,
He seeks no kingdoms, though he's own'd their heir.
Titles are empty sounds, and cannot break
Treaties, unless he arms for titles sake;
Asserts his right, and vindicates his claim,
Beyond a specious compliment of name.
That's all he gives him, and that gift's no more,
Than what the father was allow'd before;
And since that recognition broke no vow,
Why is it styl’d the cause of rupture now?
As for your commerce, and decrease of trade,
Ev’n thank your Senate + for the laws they've made;
Their votes occasion what my prince enjoins ;
We tax your products, 'cause you tax our wines;
Else had your merchants traffick'd on my coast,
And both our nations gain'd what both have lost;
Yet may we still those mutual joys restore,
And plenty spread its wings on either shore,
Would but your sons e'en now with mine agree,
And what I'd suffer them they suffer me.
Think not of peace, nor, with expecting eyes,
Hope for the Goddess that my courtship flies.
Long she can ne'er within thy walls abide,
While men for private ends the publick guide ;
While modern whigs are in my courts receiv'd,
And those are trusted who the nation griev'd;
While ()d still enjoys his master's smiles,
Like beast of prey escap'd from hunter's toils ;
While serious S, sprung from a saint-like race,
Advises war with a religious grace,
To hide the irreligion of his place ;
And H- puff'd up with pride, and praise,
For making use of other's means and ways,
Looks big and pow'rful at the council-board,
Rais'd from a party-poet to a lord.
War is their theme, though peace is their delight;
Would peace with-hold their crimes from publick sight,
And suffer wrong to take the place of right.
• He promised this to James the Second, upon his death-bed.