A Dialogue, between Toney, and the
Ghost of the Late LORD VISCOUNT-STAFFORD.
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Ghost. WHy dost thou restless Spectour haunt a Shade,
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Who thy false practices, a Ghost has made?
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Why dost thou with Incessant rage pursue
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Those whom thy only Crimes to ruin drew?
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Thy false pretences of a wreched PLOT,
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Whose vile Conception, thy own Brain begot
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Much Blood has spilt; and on thy Head has brought,
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Heavens Vengeance, for the perjuries thou'st taught.
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Toney. Poor empty Shadow? canst thou think that I,
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Will like thyself, contented go to Dye?
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Know senceless Shade; Whenever I do Fall,
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Millions at least shall wait my Funeral.
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The kind believing Croud; which I have led
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Long in a Noose; and my Revenge has fed:
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Who still with acclaimations made my Name,
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Reach to the Clouds t'imortalize my Fame.
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Will not believe that I,
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Bent my Designes, t'establish Anarchie,
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Thou seest I still the Idoll am,
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They think t'was for their Liberties I came,
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The unthinking Vulgar; will not see him Fall
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Whom they so oft, did their preserver Call.
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Ghost. Thou Hellish Engine no, Heaven has at last
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Decreed, to open all thy Treasons past,
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Thy Insinuating Arts henceforth shall fail,
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Thy Janus Head at last shall loose it's vail:
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Thy Canker'd Soul display'd to open view
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Shall turn on thee, the Venome which they drew,
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The Peoples Eyes, shall be at last unseal'd
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And all thy Trayterous Designs Reveal'd;
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Thy damned Arts, and Engines, all shall be
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Lay'd open, the whole World thy PLOTS shall see.
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Read in thy Heart; Writ in Large Characters
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The Hellish Cause of our Domestick Jarrs:
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Then to thy horrour, thou amaz'd shall see
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The abus'd People, my Revengers be.
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Toney. Let it be true, let all the horrors come
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Thou'st mention'd, Furies joyn to give me Doom,
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Let in my Fall, both Heaven, and Earth Conspire,
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My deep Designs shall not with Life Expire:
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My Days, and Nights, (whilst here) I will employ
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In Studied mischiefs Kingdoms to destroy;
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My Emissaries shall Insinuate,
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Seeking the Nations safety, brought my Fate;
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Ile sow such Seeds; Sedition shall not cease
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Nor shall they after I am Dead have Peace:
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For with my fall, Ile darken all the Stars,
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And leave the World in Universal Jars.
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Ghost. Hold Impious wretch, what has thy fury fed!
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Add not more Blood to that already Shed;
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Think what Reward, to Blood and Treason's Due,
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And think how many thy Ambition Slew:
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Think e're it be too late, and think withall
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Heaven does by me thee to Repentance Call;
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The Gates of Mercy are not yet made fast,
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O! seek it, and Repent thy Treason's past:
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Or else when Death, has clos'd thy Mortal Eyes,
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Then EVER will BEGIN thy Miseries.
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