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