A
SPEECH
Made to his EXCELLENCY
GEORGE MONCK General, etc.
The Twelfth day of Aprill, M. DC. LX.
At a Solemn Entertainment at VINTENERS-HAL.
Wherein His Illustrious Virtues are shaddowed forth under the Emblem
of a VINE.
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WElcome (Great Sir) thrice welcome to this Hall;
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We've nothing else to welcome you withall.
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All else is but your own; to You we owe,
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Life, Liberties, Estates, Religion too:
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All else is in your Power, only our hearts
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Are free to welcome and admire your arts.
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Time was, when we were forc't to court our Chains,
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And kisse the Rod which jerk't us for our pains:
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We durst not cry for fear of t'other lash,
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But smooth'd our browes, and blubber'd faces washt.
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Our Lurdan Masters made us them reward,
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For keeping of our Liberties in Ward.
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But unto You, our hearts aspire to fall
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A willing Sacrifice, this Festivall;
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Nor think it (Sir) a hollow complement,
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We deal in Wine, Wine only truth doth vent.
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Now give us leave to borrow from our Trade,
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Something which may your radiant Virtues shade:
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And what may better Suit you than the Vine,
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That Noble Plant, which does such worth enshrine?
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First, in its leaves which hide and guard the cluster,
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It notes your modesty, which hides your lustre;
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It shews your secrecy; by which secur'd
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You have a Bloudless Victory procur'd:
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O happy soul! whose silence could do more
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Then Arts and Armes, then Retorick and Pow'r.
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You have Three Nations redeem'd, and yet,
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Not spilt one drop of bloud in doing it.
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You gently did the Strength and Weapons steal
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Out of their hands, before they could it feel.
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Let Rome and Tully boast; let Athens bless
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Demostenes, and thundring Pericles:
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Give me the man who works without a noise,
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Who spares his tongue and hands, but Wit imployes.
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Again, the Vine's not spent in leaves and paint,
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But under its own fruitful load doth faint;
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That load which lightens men of all their cares,
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And fainting spirits with new life repairs.
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Thus You (my Lord) oppress yourself with pains,
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To bring forth unto us more easie gains.
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Under your watchful eyes we sleep secure,
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Under your armes our Commerce we ensure.
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Peace, Freedom, Laws (both humane and divine)
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Are the delicious fruits of You our Vine.
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These are your first-fruits, and they tast so sweet,
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We long for those which hang not ripened yet:
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There's something still remains to crown the rest,
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To bind all fast, and make us firmly blest.
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Some are already drunk with what they tast,
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And in a drunken fit quarrel for hast.
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We wrestle yet with jealousies and threats?
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'Tis time must ripen all with kindly heats.
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There are Phanatiques that on both sides rage,
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'Till by your art you coop 'em in one cage:
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And while you check Religious lunacies,
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Restrain likewise prophaner luxuries.
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Secure all stakes; all sober men Engage;
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This will embalme your Name to future age.
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And as the Vine adorns its prop and spreads,
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And twists the branches of the tree it Weds:
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So do your Virtues spread about these Lands
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Which You Espouse, and linke them all in bands
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Of sacred wedlock; all men do combine
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In You, and mingled Interests intwine.
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You moderate, You hush, and silence all
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Our jangling factions and confused brawle.
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Bind all unto Yourself, and each to other;
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Let none Engrosse You, be a common Brother.
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The Vine (as in the Parable we read)
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Refus'd to domineer with lofty head.
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Though Brambles may in Lordly rule delight
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To scratch, and tear, and rend down all by might:
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The humble Vine seeks no such rampant tops,
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But lowly creeps unless advanc't by props:
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Thus You aspire not unto gay Dominion;
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Whose happiness is meerly in opinion:
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It is presum'd you'd rather make a King
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Then your own hands, to Sway a Scepter bring;
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This will Immortalize and blaze your story,
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And Crown your head with spendant beams of glory.
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