THE
DELIQUIUM:
OR,
The Grievances of the Nation
DISCOVERED
IN A DREAM.
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FRom Evenings Coffee, lac'd with long Argument
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Of the Kings Power and Rights of Parliament,
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And hot-brain'd Company, who make it their Vocation,
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Waving their own, to mind th' Affairs o' th' Nation;
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Whose Noddles for these many Months have been
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Hatchers of Grievances unfelt, unseen;
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Ill-manner'd Fools, whose Ignorance is Hate,
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They understand not, therefore blame the State.
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Their real Grievance is their want of sence,
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Beasts in all things but in Obedience.
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Cloy'd with their noisie Cant (in equal plight
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Of laughter, scorn, and grief) I bid good night:
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Troubl'd to think of Englands Grand Disease,
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Groaning with th' Burthen of such Sots as these,
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To bed I went, where restless long I lay,
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Despair'd of Sleep, and waited for the day:
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Lord! (said I) must our Monarch ne're have rest?
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The more indulgent, th' more he is opprest
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With Fools that know not, think not what they want;
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Their Desire granted, they'l soon cure the Grant:
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Yet the King's still in fault! methinks I see
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Tears flowing down the Cheeks of Majesty.
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If I am troubled, how much more is He,
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Who bears the burthen of their Calumny?
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Thus lay I long, my Soul quite spent with Sighs,
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When Sleep insensibly stole o're my Eyes.
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From lump of Flesh unchain'd, methought my Soul
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Through Dark Unwholsome Foggy Mists did rowl,
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Horrour increasing still, methought I came
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To the dire Mansions of Eternal Flame,
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The Gates of Brass transparent were, and thence
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Flew Azure Flames with Smoak of nauseous stench,
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With a confused noise of Howls and Groans,
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Such as would melt (if anything can) Stones.
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The horrour quell'd my Spirit, that I stood
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'Maz'd and insensitive as Stone or Wood,
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Till by a Friend reviv'd; Chear thee, quoth he,
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This place as yet is not design'd for thee.
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He led me through the Gates, where lo, a place,
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Larger then all this lower Worlds vast space,
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The Torments gave some light (else dark as night)
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A pale bituminous discolour'd Light,
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Myriads of wretched Souls my Fancy view'd,
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Weltring in Flames, with Pitch and Brimstone strew'd.
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Just at the Gate th' Infernal Senate sate;
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For know, that Hell's no Kingdom, but a State;
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A Democractick State; for it affords
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(As I was told) no King nor House of Lords:
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Tho' Lucifers a kind of Prince, he sate
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But Chairman, or rather Speaker to the State;
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A Troop of Ghastly Fiends surround his Chair,
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All which of a Select Committee were,
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Who (having plaid their Devils part so well)
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Had been Elected Burgesses of Hell:
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Two who were lately to Eutopia sent,
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Stood now for Members of the Parliament.
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O Yes was strait proclaim'd; Appear, appear,
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You that are Candidates; mighty Lucifer
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Assures his Vote for him who merits best
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For his Eutopia Service; All the rest
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To Lucifer with formal Bows submit;
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They would consent to what His Grace thought fit.
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Python appear'd; Great Sir, said he, since I
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Went with this Honourable Houses Embassy,
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T' Eutopia, I ha' brought that Realm to be
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An't please Your Grace, in all Conformity
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To Your desires; But first I must confess
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Letters of Credence from his Holiness
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(Your Grace's Correspondent) I procur'd
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To some Lords there; whom I before insur'd
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By my Ignatian Friends; O! they're a Crew
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Of the most hearty, diligent and true,
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Zealous unwearied Boys, to propagate
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What may conduce to th' Good of this Our State:
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Had they but Cunning equal to their Will,
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This Place with Humane Souls they'd quickly fill;
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You'd need no other Fiends: These did my work,
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And privily about the Realm did lurk:
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Some ign'rant Bigots they engag'd, and some
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Only with th' pleasing pride of Martyrdom;
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Some by Ambition's Bait were finely caught,
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All things at once boldly to venture at:
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But I confess, though all my Art I try'd
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To bring the Great Almanzor to Our side,
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I fail'd; But then I got it buz'd that He
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Would soon make one in the Conspiracy:
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This tickl'd and engag'd them in that PLOT
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Which by th' Eutopians ne'r will be forgot.
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In short, This Honourable House knows well
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How I've deserv'd a Burgess-ship in Hell;
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If not, we've some Jesuits here can tell.
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Then through the House a murmuring Applause
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Shew'd that they all inclin'd to Pythons Cause.
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When Syphax, th' other Candidate appear'd,
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Great Sir, said he, I hope my Cause (when heard)
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Will gain your suffrage; Mighty Sir, You know
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M'Opponent's method was a while ago
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Us'd by Cantatogax, Your Agent then
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To th' same Realms, though but in vain; since when
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Others with like Effects have us'd it; I
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Us'd the experienc'd Rule, Presbytery:
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This was the method, Mighty Lucifer!
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That brought Ten thousand Rebel Souls a year
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For twenty years together to this place,
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For Pythons part, an't please Your Grace,
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He hatch't a Plot I must confess; but what
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Effects did this his so much talkt of Plot
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Produce? Why faith he e'en sent here no more
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Than those who were Your Grace's own before.
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For my own part, I to the House will give
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Of all my Actions a short Narrative.
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In grave and comly Hypocritick Dress,
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Bearing the outward form of Godliness,
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I cloath'd myself, and to Eutopia went,
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Haunted the City, Court and Parliament;
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And in short time pick'd up a numerous Crew
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Of all Religions; every Sect a few:
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I made all those my own who took great pains
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To make their seeming Godliness their gains:
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All those who use Religion for a fashion,
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Or seen to thrive by th' ruine of the Nation;
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All who'd at Court their expectations crost,
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Or by ill manners had Preferments lost:
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All those who were engag'd in the late Broils,
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In the King's Death and the three Nations Spoils,
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And had this King's late Act of Grace abus'd
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By their unnatural Ingratitude:
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All who had lost their Games, and now would fain,
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For their own turn, have the Cards dealt again.
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I found one fit at last to steer these right,
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A Favourite of theirs, a much fam'd Wight,
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Capricio call'd, and thereby hangs a Tale,
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Meager his Visage is, his Face as pale
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As his Deeds black; Dame Nature sure design'd
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That by his out-side men might know his mind:
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Hell's in his Body, and his shrivl'd Skin
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Seems dropping from his rotten Bones within:
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His Corrupt Tortur'd Body does convey
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Fresh Spleen and Rancour to his Heart each day;
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Which lest it shou'd o'reflow, or by mishap
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Be over-charg'd from Sun or Fleece, a Tap
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Is in his Body fix'd, with curious Art,
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Which from his double Envy-canker'd heart,
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By pumping, does exhaust th' exundant Juice,
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Reserving still enough for's daily use.
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With this half Fiend I many Consults had,
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And we at last this Resolution made:
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Almanzors due Succession to oppose,
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Among his many unprovoked Foes:
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We chose young Marcion, not for any love,
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But to undo the Youth, as time will prove:
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Poor easie Prince, he little thinks that we
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Prostituteth is his weak Credulity
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To our own use, to Anarchize the State,
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And hasten his too soon intended Fate:
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Disgusted Lords we got some two or three,
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To put their helping hands to Anarchy.
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Amongst the rest one Libertino nam'd,
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Of him I must confess I was asham'd,
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His vitious Life did much disgrace the Cause;
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But 'twas enough, his hate to King, Church, Laws,
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And Government in general, drew the rude
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Unthinking, Jealous, Headlong Multitude
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To esteem him so that he this Title bears,
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One of the Protestant Eutopian Peers.
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With these in close Cabals sometime I pass'd,
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And forg'd a feasible Design at last:
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'Twas thought without some provocation 'twere
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Not fit our Cause in publick should appear:
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I pitch'd upon a Rogue, the truth to tell,
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Has not his Fellow even here in Hell,
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Upon our Crew we forg'd a Plot, which he
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First brought to light; A Re-discovery
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He made as soon, Swore to, and was believ'd,
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Then our good Party found themselves aggriev'd,
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And cry'd aloud, THESE TORY'S, Bretheren, see;
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Behold, we say, the Lords Delivery.
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This was some Bishop sure, or Masquerader.
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Soon after this a Son accus'd his Father;
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Forwards and backwards Swears, at last he Vows, Sir,
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He was subborn'd by that same Papist Towzer.
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Things went on well, and now they thought 'twas time
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The Ladder of Rebellion they should climbe:
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The Senate sate; High for the Good Old Cause,
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Magna Charta, and Fundamental Laws,
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No Arbitrary Power, but We must give
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Necessary Limits to Prerogative,
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Though the King mayn't, yet We may break the Laws,
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Punish at pleasure, though without a Cause;
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Then must Almanzor be excluded, He
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Has too much Spirit, too much bravery;
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They must and will have presently Redress,
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Of a long Bead-roll of Grievances.
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And these are such as the King won't, nor can't,
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Nature and Conscience will not let him grant:
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If not, no Money, Sirs, what e're come on't;
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A Fig for Foreign Foes, so the King want.
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Councellors must be tax'd, and most of all
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Hali, whom they had nought to charge with all,
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But only 'cause he could discern the Weather,
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And judge when Elements would clash together;
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They do not think it safe that any Lord
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That has but sence, should sit at Council-Board;
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Those that sit there should in their Foreheads have
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Their Beast-ships Mark of either Fool or Knave;
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Who lov'd the King was Voted straight to be
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Betrayer of the Subjects Liberty,
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And their old long-lov'd Darling Property.
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Capricio tells them next, they want a Prince
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Fit to be trusted with the Rule; and since
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The present King's not such, they think 'twere fit
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That they be trusted both with Him and It.
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In short, I've brought that Kingdom, now of late,
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In all Conformity so near our State,
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That whosoever sees both, will surely Swear
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'Tis an exact true Pattern of This here.
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Then such loud shouts from all the Senate came,
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That I awak'd, and found it but a Dream.
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