A
VISION
In the TOWER,
To the L. H----d
In his CONTEMPLATION.
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ANd is it so? Or am I in a Dream?
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Can I be Catcht in the Snare, my self did Frame?
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And am I Catcht? if so, who is the Cause?
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Can it be those in whom I did Repose?
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If so, must I rail at their Treachery?
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No, they must Die by my Industry.
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I to promote the Factious Interest,
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Strove to out-strain great Chitophel's old Crest.
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And now my Mercenary men and I,
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Must by Laws Regal Institution Die.
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This Smilling Plot Auspicious did appear,
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To us Creators of its moving Sphere.
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It from our Genius drew its right of Birth,
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Which to preserve must we submit to Death.
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No Infant of the Royal Race could be,
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More Cherisht, than Sweet Plot we have done thee.
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And fearing thou, shoudst Faulter, Starve or Die,
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States great Physitians with their Chymistry.
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Compounded Antidots did dayly try,
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That thou might Live Monarchy to Destroy.
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And must I now, the Brother of thy Father,
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Both he, and thee, and I, Dye altogether.?
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Yet, my dear Nephew, do not dye for fear,
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Whilst we are Alive, thou needst not to despair.
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If those that have this three years bore the weight,
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Begin to Kick, and do their Rider slight.
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Upon the backs of others we'l three pack,
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Where thou shalt ride 'm, till their Heart strings crack.
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As men ride Post when every Jadd doth tire,
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Leaves them half Dead, and Belly deep in Mire,
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Thou still shalt have fresh Pads to Ride or Drive,
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Deer Plot ther's none shall live, thee to Survive.
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If I this Dubious point of Fortune Weather,
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We'le make the Eminent, as thy own Father.
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Ghost, Vain Mortal Caitif, Scum of Infamy,
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Is this thy Pennance in Extremity.
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Canst thou no more relent in this Foresight,
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But to run Headlong to Eternal Night.
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Do'st thou not see Grimm Death before thee stand,
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With daring Resolution, thee demand?
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For thy Sad Soul can no Compassion take,
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But let it Perish with thy own sought Fate.
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What Black Ambition can Rebellion bring,
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'Gainst so Great a God, so Just, so Kind a King:
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Answer, Why what art thou that Interrupts my Muse,
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And doth Griefs Contemplation thus abuse.
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May not I? within these damp and dismal Walls,
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Consult what Rising, still produceth Falls.
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And how Tradition, proves upon Records,
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We had still Ambitious, and Conspiring Lords.
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But I must be Confronted by such Spies,
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As from the Shades of Darkness doth arise.
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And haunts these Nautious, Fulsom, Stinking Cells,
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Where Antick Spirits, meet to Charm their Spells.
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Ghost, No, no, Inhumane Infidel, not so,
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I am not raised from the Shades below.
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Nor is't my Office Dungeons to disturb,
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I am descended from a Higher Orb;
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Come to convince thy weak Atheistick Faith,
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To make thee know, there is Life after Death.
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I am the Ghost of Stafford, which you Murthered,
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Which thy own Vote, and all thy Interest furthered.
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Tho' I a Howard am, as well as thou,
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So near Allyed, my Innocence thou knew,
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On thy Honour Guilty; where's thy Honour now?
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Why Startled thus, to hear Truth open laid,
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Behold here's Staffords-Ghost without a Head.
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Thou in my Guiltless Blood thy Hands Imbrued,
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Which thou in thy Caballs so long pursued.
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And to prove, 'tis no Delusions Influence,
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Thy Looks (by Sympathy) draws Blood from hence.
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Thou canst not on me so Prophanely gaze,
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But my Guiltless Blood, flies in thy Guilty Face.
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Packt, Perjur'd Emissaries was your Law,
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Which your black Conscience brib'd to make them so;
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You at their Summons gave the Fatal Blow.
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And thus poor Stafford's Life was Bought and Sold,
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By double value, Souls as well as Gold.
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To which thou hast such Contribution paid;
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Beware, the forfeit signifies thy Head.
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Cousin remember, when I was Condemn'd,
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To which thy Leading Vote did condescend.
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When Sentence on my Innocence was past,
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The Tears of Crocodils, thou Weeptst as fast;
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As if too late Compassion thou hadst took,
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Then in the Crowd thou quickly me forsook.
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Then with the City Caballs, thou straight return'd,
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And of your conquest Boasted, though Suborn'd.
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Let this thy Conscience move, with Guilty Fears,
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And go submit unto thy Fellow Peers,
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Which have been Captives here almost three Years.
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Owne all thy Treachery to Truth, and Them;
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Think what it is to bear a Traytors Name,
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To thee that's Guilty; but much more to Them.
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Since thou art Fast, speak Truth and set them Free,
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No way else left thee to Eternity.
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If this great Work of Consequence thou do,
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'T will save thy Soul, if not thy Body too.
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And thus Farewel, these Minnuts I did Borrow,
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Old Sh------ he'le Condole with thee to Morrow.
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