The Last Instructions to a Painter about the Dutch Wars, 1667.

After two sittings, now our Lady State,
To end her picture, does the third time wait;
But ere thou fall'st to work, first, Painter, see,
If 't ben't too slight grown or too hard for thee.
Canst thou paint without colours? Then 'tis right:
For so we too without a fleet can fight.
Or canst thou daub a sign-post, and that ill?
'Twill suit our great debauch, and little skill.
Or hast thou marked how antique masters limn
The alley-roof with snuff of candle dim,
Sketching in shady smoke prodigious tools?
'Twill serve this race of drunkards, pimps, and fools.
But if to match our crimes thy skill presumes,
As the Indians draw our luxury in plumes,
Or if to score out our compendious fame,
With Hooke then through your microscope take aim,
Where, like the new Comptroller, all men laugh,
To see a tall louse brandish a white staff;
Else shalt thou oft thy guiltless pencil curse,
Stamp on thy pallet, not perhaps the worse.
The painter so long having vexed his cloth,
Of his hound's mouth to feign the raging froth,
His desperate pencil at the work did dart;
His anger reached that rage which passed his art;
Chance finished that, which art could but begin,
And he sat smiling how his dog did grin;
So may'st thou perfect by a lucky blow,
What all thy softest touches cannot do.
Paint then St. Albans full of soup and gold,
The new Court's pattern, stallion of the old;
Him neither wit nor courage did exalt,
But Fortune chose him for her pleasure's salt.
Paint him with drayman's shoulders, butcher's mien,
Membered like mule, with elephantine chin.
Well he the title of St. Albans bore,
For never Bacon studied nature more;
But age, allaying now that youthful heat,
Fits him in France to play at cards, and treat.
Draw no commission, lest the Court should lie,
And, disavowing treaty, ask supply.
He needs no seal but to St. James's lease,
Whose breeches were the instruments of peace;
Who, if the French dispute his power, from thence
Can straight produce them a plenipotence.
Nor fears he the Most Christian should trepan
Two saints at once, St. German and Alban;
But thought the golden age was now restored,
When men and women took each other's word.
Paint then again her Highness to the life,
Philosopher beyond Newcastle's wife.
She naked can Archimedes' self put down,
For an experiment upon the crown.
She perfected that engine oft essayed,
How after child-birth to renew a maid;
And found how royal heirs might be matured
In fewer months than mothers once endured.
Hence Crowder made the rare inventress free
Of's Highness's Royal Society.
Happiest of women if she were but able
To make her glassen Duke once malleable.
Paint her with oyster-lip, and breath of fame,
Wide mouth, that sparagus may well proclaim;
With chancellor's belly, and so large a rump,
Where (not behind the coach) her pages jump.
Express her studying now, if China clay
Can, without breaking, venomed juice convey:
Or how a mortal poison she may draw
Out of the cordial meal of the cocoa.
Witness ye stars of night, and thou the pale
Moon, that o'ercome with the sick steam, didst fail:
Ye neighbouring elms, which your green leaves did shed,
And fawns which from the womb abortive fled.
Not unprovoked she tries forbidden arts,
But in her soft breast love's hid cancer smarts;
While she resolves at once Sidney's disgrace,
And herself scorned for emulous Denham's face;
And nightly hears the hated guard, away
Galloping with the Duke to other prey.
Paint Castlemaine in colours which will hold
Her, not her picture, for she now grows old.
She through her lackey's drawers, as he ran,
Discerned love's cause, and a new flame began.
Her wonted joys thenceforth, and Court, she shuns,
And still within her mind the footman runs;
His brazen calves, his brawny thighs, (the face
She slights) his feet shaped for a smoother race!
Then, poring with her glass, she re-adjusts
Her locks, and oft-tired beauty now distrusts;
Fears lest he scorned a woman once assayed,
And now first wished she e'er had been a maid.
Great Love! how dost thou triumph, and how reign,
That to a groom couldst humble her disdain!
Stripped to her skin, see how she stooping stands,
Nor scorns to rub him down with those fair hands,
And washing (lest the scent her crime disclose)
His sweaty hoofs, tickles him 'twixt the toes.
But envious fame too soon began to note
More gold in's fob, more lace upon his coat;
And he unwary, and of tongue too fleet,
No longer could conceal his fortune sweet.
Justly the rogue was whipped in Porter's den,
And Jermyn straight has leave to come again.
Ah, Painter! now could Alexander live,
And this Campaspe the Apelles give!
Draw next a pair of tables opening, then
The House of Commons clattering like the men.
Describe the Court and country both set right
On opposite points, the black against the white;
Those having lost the nation at trick-track,
These now adventuring how to win it back.
The dice betwixt them must the fate divide,
As chance does still in multitudes decide.
But here the Court doth its advantage know,
For the cheat, Turner, for them both must throw;
As some from boxes, he so from the chair
Can strike the die, and still with them go share.
Here, Painter, rest a little and survey
With what small arts the public game they play;
For so too, Rubens, with affairs of state,
His labouring pencil oft would recreate. ]
The close Cabal marked how the navy eats,
And thought all lost that goes not to the cheats:
So therefore secretly for peace decrees,
Yet for a war the Parliament would squeeze;
And fix to the revenue such a sum
Should Goodrick silence, and make Paston dumb,
Should pay land armies, should dissolve the vain
Commons, and ever such a Court maintain,
Hyde's avarice, Bennet's luxury, should suffice,
And what can these defray but the excise?
Excise, a monster worse than e'er before
Frighted the midwife, and the mother tore.
A thousand hands she has, a thousand eyes,
Breaks into shops, and into cellars pries;
With hundred rows of teeth the shark exceeds,
And on all trades, like casawar, she feeds;
Chops off the piece where'er she close the jaw,
Else swallows all down her indented maw.
She stalks all day in streets, concealed from sight,
And flies like bats with leathern wings by night;
She wastes the country, and on cities preys.
Her, of a female harpy in dog-days,
Black Birch, of all the earth-born race most hot,
And most rapacious, like himself begot;
And of his brat enamoured, as 't increased,
Buggered in incest with the mongrel beast.
Say, Muse, for nothing can escape thy sight,
(And Painter, wanting other, draw this fight,)
Who in an English senate fierce debate
Could raise so long, for this new whore of State.
Of early wittols first the troop marched in,
For diligence renowned, and discipline;
In loyal haste they left young wives in bed,
And Denham these with one consent did head.
Of the old courtiers next a squadron came,
Who sold their master, led by Ashburnham.
To them succeeds a despicable rout,
But knew the word, and well could face about;
Expectants pale, with hopes of spoil allured,
Though yet but pioneers, and led by Steward.
Then damning cowards ranged the vocal plain;
Wood these commands, knight of the horn and cane:
Still his hook-shoulder seems the blow to dread,
And under's arm-pit he defends his head.
The posture strange men laugh at, of his poll
Hid with his elbow like the spice he stole;
Headless St. Dennis so his head does bear,
And both of them alike French martyrs were.
Court officers, as used, the next place took,
And followed Fox, but with disdainful look;
His birth, his youth, his brokage, all dispraise
In vain, for always he commands that pays.
Then the procurers under Prodgers filed,
Gentlest of men, and his lieutenant mild,
Bronkard, love's squire; through all the field arrayed,
No troop was better clad, nor so well paid.
Then marched the troop of Clarendon, all full,
Haters of fowl, to teal preferring bull;
Gross bodies, grosser minds, and grosser cheats;
And bloated Wren conducts them to their seats.
Charlton advances next (whose coife does awe
The mitred troop) and with his looks gives law.
He marched with beaver cocked of bishop's brim,
And hid much fraud under an aspect grim.
Next do the lawyers, sordid band, appear,
Finch in the front, and Thurland in the rear.
The troop of privilege, a rabble bare
Of debtors deep, fell to Trelawney's care;
Their fortune's error they supplied in rage,
Nor any farther would than these engage.
Then marched the troop, whose valiant acts before
(Their public acts), obliged them to do more,
For chimney's sake they all Sir Pool obeyed,
Or, in his absence, him that first it laid.
Then came the thrifty troop of privateers,
Whose horses each with other interferes:
Before them Higgins rides with brow compact,
Mourning his Countess, anxious for his Act.
Sir Frederick and Sir Solomon draw lots,
For the command of politics or Scots;
Thence fell to words; but quarrels to adjourn,
Their friends agreed they should command by turn.
Carteret the rich did the accountants guide,
And in ill English all the world defied.
The Papists (but of those the house had none
Else) Talbot offered to have led them on.
Bold Duncombe next, of the projectors chief,
And old Fitz Harding of the Eaters Beef.
Late and disordered out the drunkards drew,
Scarce them their leaders, they their leaders knew.
Before them entered, equal in command,
Apsley and Brotherick marching hand in hand.
Last then but one, Powell, that could not ride,
Led the French standard weltering in his stride;
He, to excuse his slowness, truth confessed,
That 'twas so long before he could be dressed.
The lord's sons last all these did reinforce,
Cornbury before them managed hobby-horse.
Never before nor since an host so steeled
Trooped on to muster in the Tuttle-field.
Not the first cock-horse that with cork was shod
To rescue Albemarle from the sea-cod:
Nor the late feather-men, whom Tomkins fierce
Shall with one breath like thistle-down disperse.
All the two Coventrys their generals chose,
For one had much, the other nought to lose.
Not better choice all accidents could hit,
While hector Harry steers by Will the wit.
They both accept the charge with merry glee,
To fight a battle from all gunshot free.
Pleased with their numbers, yet in valour wise,
They feigned a parley, better to surprise;
They who ere long shall the rude Dutch upbraid,
Who in a time of treaty durst invade.
Thick was the morning, and the House was thin,
The Speaker early, when they all fell in.
Propitious heavens! had not you them crossed,
Excise had got the day, and all been lost:
For t'other side all in loose quarters lay
Without intelligence, command or pay;
A scattered body, which the foe ne'er tried,
But often did among themselves divide.
And some run o'er each night, while others sleep,
And undescried returned 'fore morning peep.
But Strangways, who all night still walked the round,
For vigilance and courage both renowned,
First spied the enemy, and gave the alarm,
Fighting it single till the rest might arm;
Such Roman Codes strid before the foe,
The failing bridge behind, the streams below.
Each ran as chance him guides to several post,
And all to pattern his example, boast;
Their former trophies they recall to mind,
And to new edge their angry courage, grind.
First entered forward Temple, conqueror
Of Irish cattle, and solicitor.
Then daring Seymour, that with spear and shield
Had stretched the monster patent on the field.
Keen Whorwood next in aid of damsel frail,
That pierced the giant Mordaunt through his mail:
And surly Williams the accountant's bane,
And Lovelace young of chimney-men the cane.
Old Waller, trumpet-general, swore he'd write
This combat truer than the naval right.
Of birth, state, wit, strength, courage, Howard presumes,
And in his breast wears many Montezumes.
These, with some more, with single valour stay
The adverse troops, and hold them all at bay.
Each thinks his person represents the whole,
And with that thought does multiply his soul;
Believes himself an army; there's one man,
As easily conquered; and believing, can
With heart of bees so full and head of mites,
That each, though duelling, a battle fights.
So once Orlando, famous in romance,
Broached whole brigades like larks upon his lance.
But strength at last still under number bows,
And the faint sweat trickled down Temple's brows;
Even iron Strangways chafing yet gave back,
Spent with fatigue, to breathe awhile tobac.
When marching in, a seasonable recruit
Of citizens and merchants held dispute,
And charging all their pikes, a sullen band
Of Presbyterian Switzers made a stand.
Nor could all these the field have long maintained
But for the unknown reserve that still remained;
A gross of English gentry, nobly born,
Of clear estates, and to no faction sworn,
Dear lovers of their King, and death to meet
For country's cause, that glorious think and sweet;
To speak not forward, but in action brave,
In giving generous, but in council grave;
Candidly credulous for once, nay twice;
But sure the devil cannot cheat them thrice.
The van in battle, though retiring, falls
Without disorder in their intervals,
Then closing all, in equal front, fall on,
Led by great Garroway, and great Littleton.
Lee equal to obey, or to command,
Adjutant-general was still at hand.
The marshal standard, Sands displaying, shows
St. Dunstan in it tweaking Satan's nose.
See sudden chance of war, to paint or write,
Is longer work, and harder than to fight:
At the first charge the enemy give out,
And the excise receives a total rout.
Broken in courage, yet the men the same,
Resolve henceforth upon their other game:
Where force had failed, with stratagem to play,
And what haste lost, recover by delay.
St. Albans straight is sent to, to forbear,
Lest the sure peace (forsooth) too soon appear.
The seamen's clamours to three ends they use,
To cheat they pay, feign want, the House accuse.
Each day they bring the tale, and that too true,
How strong the Dutch their equipage renew;
Meantime through all the yards their orders run,
To lay the ships up, cease the keels begun.
The timber rots, the useless axe does rust;
The unpractised saw lies buried in its dust;
The busy hammer sleeps, the ropes untwine;
The store and wages all are mine and thine;
Along the coasts and harbours they take care
That money lacks, nor forts be in repair.
Long thus they could against the House conspire,
Load them with envy, and with sitting tire;
And the loved King, that's never yet denied,
Is brought to beg in public, and to chide:
But when this failed, and months enough were spent,
They with the first day's proffer seem content;
And to land-tax from the excise turn round,
Bought off with eighteen hundred thousand pound.
Thus like fair thieves, the Commons' purse they share,
But all the members' lives consulting spare.
Blither than hare that hath escaped the hounds,
The House prorogued, the Chancellor rebounds.
Not so decrepit Æson, hashed and stewed
With magic herbs, rose from the pot renewed,
And with fresh age felt his glad limbs unite;
His gout (yet still he cursed) had left him quite.
What frosts to fruits, what arsenic to the rat,
What to fair Denham mortal chocolate,
What an account to Carteret, that and more,
A parliament is to the chancellor.
So the sad tree shrinks from the morning's eye,
But blooms all night and shoots its branches high;
So at the sun's recess, again returns
The comet dread, and earth and heaven burns.
Now Mordaunt may within his castle tower
Imprison parents, and their child deflower.
The Irish herd is now let loose, and comes
By millions over, not by hecatombs;
And, now, now the Canary patent may
Be broached again for the great holy-day.
See how he reigns in his new palace culminant,
And sits in state divine like Jove the fulminant.
First Buckingham that durst 'gainst him rebel,
Blasted with lightning, struck with thunder fell;
Next the twelve commons are condemned to groan,
And roll in vain at Sisyphus's stone.
But still he cared, whilst in revenge he braved,
That peace secured, and money might be saved.
Gain and revenge, revenge and gain, are sweet;
United most, when most by turns they meet.
France had St. Albans promised (so they sing),
St. Albans promised him, and he the King.
The Count forthwith is ordered all to close,
To play for Flanders, and the stake to lose;
While chained together, two ambassadors
Like slaves shall beg for peace at Holland's doors.
This done, among his Cyclops he retires
To forge new thunder, and inspect their fires.
The Court, as once of war, now fond of peace,
All to new sports their wonted fears release.
From Greenwich (where intelligence they hold)
Comes news of pastime martial and old.
A punishment invented first to awe
Masculine wives transgressing nature's law;
Where when the brawny female disobeys,
And beats the husband, till for peace he prays,
No concerned jury damage for him finds,
Nor partial justice her behaviour binds;
But the just street does the next house invade,
Mounting the neighbour couple on lean jade.
The distaff knocks, the grains from kettle fly,
And boys and girls in troops run hooting by.
Prudent antiquity! that knew by shame,
Better than law, domestic broils to tame;
And taught the youth by spectacle innocent:
So thou and I, dear Painter, represent
In quick effigy, others' faults; and feign,
By making them ridiculous, to restrain;
With homely sight they chose thus to relax
The joys of state for the new peace and tax.
So Holland with us had the mastery tried,
And our next neighbours, France and Flanders, ride.
But a fresh news the great designment nips
Off, at the isle of Candy, Dutch and ships;
Bab May and Arlington did wisely scoff,
And thought all safe if they were so far off.
Modern geographers! 'twas there they thought,
Where Venice twenty years the Turks had fought,
(While the first year the navy is but shown,
The next divided, and the third we've none.)
They by the name mistook it for that isle,
Where pilgrim Palmer travelled in exile,
With the bull's horn to measure his own head,
And on Pasiphae's tomb to drop a bead.
But Morice learned demonstrates by the post,
This isle of Candy was on Essex coast.
Fresh messengers still the sad news assure,
More timorous now we are than first secure.
False terrors our believing fears devise,
And the French army one from Calais spies.
Bennet and May, and those of shorter reach,
Change all for guineas, and a crown for each;
But wiser men, and well foreseen in chance,
In Holland theirs had lodged before, and France;
Whitehall's unsafe, the Court all meditates
To fly to Windsor, and mure up the gates.
Each doth the other blame, and all distrust,
But Mordaunt new obliged would sure be just.
Not such a fatal stupefaction reigned
At London's flames, nor so the Court complained.
The Blud worth Chancellor gives (then does recall)
Orders, amazed; at last gives none at all.
St. Albans writ too, that he may bewail
To Monsieur Lewis, and tell coward tale,
How that the Hollanders do make a noise,
Threaten to beat us, and are naughty boys.
Now Doleman's disobedient, and they still
Uncivil, his unkindness would us kill:
Tell him our ships unrigged, our forts unmanned,
Our money spent, else 'twere at his command;
Summon him therefore of his word, and prove
To move him out of pity, if not love;
Pray him to make De Witt and Ruyter cease,
And whip the Dutch unless they'll hold their peace.
But Lewis was of memory but dull,
And to St. Albans too undutiful;
Nor word nor near relation did revere,
But asked him bluntly for his character.
The gravelled Count did with this answer faint
(His character was that which thou didst paint),
And so enforced like enemy or spy,
Trusses his baggage, and the camp does fly:
Yet Lewis writes, and lest our hearts should break,
Condoles us morally out of Senec.
Two letters next unto Breda are sent,
In cipher one to Harry Excellent.
The first entrusts (our verse that name abhors)
Plenipotentiary ambassadors
To prove by Scripture, treaty does imply
Cessation, as the look adultery;
And that by law of arms, in martial strife,
Who yields his sword, has title to his life.
Presbyter Holies the first point should clear,
The second Coventry the cavalier:
But, would they not be argued back from sea,
Then to return home straight infecta re.
But Harry's ordered, if they won't recall
Their fleet, to threaten, — we will give them all.
The Dutch are then in proclamation shent,
For sin against the eleventh commandment.
Hyde's flippant style there pleasantly curvets,
Still his sharp wit on states and princes whets:
So Spain could not escape his laughter's spleen,
None but himself must choose the king a queen.
But when he came the odious clause to pen,
That summons up the Parliament again,
His writing-master many times he banned,
And wished himself the gout to seize his hand.
Never old lecher more repugnant felt,
Consenting for his rupture to be gelt.
But still in hope he solaced, ere they come
To work the peace, and so to send them home;
Or in their hasty call to find a flaw,
Their acts to vitiate, and them overawe:
But more relied upon this Dutch pretence,
To raise a two-edged army for's defence.
First then he marched our whole militia's force,
(As if, alas! we ships, or Dutch had horse;)
Then from the usual commonplace he blames
These, and in standing armies' praise declaims;
And the wise Court, that always loved it dear,
Now thinks all but too little for their fear.
Hyde stamps, and straight upon the ground the swarms
Of current myrmidons appear in arms:
And for their pay he writes as from the King,
With that cursed quill plucked from a vulture's wing,
Of the whole nation now to ask a loan;
The eighteen hundred thousand pounds are gone.
This done, he pens a proclamation stout
In rescue of the bankers banquerout,
His minion imps, which in his secret part
Lie nuzzling at the sacramental wart,
Horse-leeches sucking at the haemorrhoid vein;
He sucks the King, they him, he them again.
The kingdom's farm he lets to them bid least,
(Greater the bribe) and that's at interest.
Here men induced by safety, gain, and ease,
Their money lodge, confiscate when he please;
These can at need, at instant with a scrip,
(This liked him best) his cash beyond sea whip.
When Dutch invade, and Parliament prepare,
How can he engines so convenient spare?
Let no man touch them, or demand his own,
Pain of displeasure of great Clarendon.
The state-affairs thus marshalled, for the rest,
Monck in his shirt against the Dutch is pressed.
Often, dear Painter, have I sat and mused
Why he should be on all adventures used;
Do they for nothing ill, like ashen wood,
Or think him, like herb-john, for nothing good?
Whether his valour they so much admire,
Or that for cowardice they all retire,
As Heaven in storms they call, in gusts of state
On Monck and Parliament, — yet both do hate.
All causes sure concur, but most they think
Under Herculean labours he may sink.
Soon then the independent troops would close,
And Hyde's last project of his place dispose.
Ruyter, the while, that had our ocean curbed,
Sailed now amongst our rivers undisturbed;
Surveyed their crystal streams and banks so green,
And beauties ere this never naked seen
Through the vain sedge the bashful nymphs he eyed,
Bosoms, and all which from themselves they hide.
The sun much brighter, and the sky more clear,
He finds, the air and all things sweeter here;
The sudden change, and such a tempting sight,
Swells his old veins with fresh blood, fresh delight;
Like amorous victors he begins to shave,
And his new face looks in the English wave;
His sporting navy all about him swim,
And witness their complacence in their trim;
Their streaming silks play through the weather fair,
And with inveigling colours court the air;
While the red flags breathe on their topmasts high
Terror and war, but want an enemy.
Among the shrouds the seamen sit and sing,
And wanton boys on every rope do cling;
Old Neptune springs the tides, and waters lent
(The gods themselves do help the provident),
And where the deep keel on the shallow cleaves,
With trident's lever and great shoulder heaves;
Æolus their sails inspires with eastern wind,
Puffs them along, and breathes upon them kind;
With pearly shell the Tritons all the while
Sound the sea-march, and guide to Sheppy isle.
So have I seen in April's bud arise
A fleet of clouds sailing along the skies;
The liquid region with their squadrons filled,
Their airy sterns the sun behind doth gild,
And gentle gales them steer, and Heaven drives,
When all on sudden their calm bosom rives,
With thunder and lightning from each armed cloud;
Shepherds themselves in vain in bushes shroud:
So up the stream the Belgic navy glides,
And at Sheerness unloads its stormy sides.
Spragge there, though practised in the sea-command,
With panting heart lay like a fish on land,
And quickly judged the fort was not tenable,
Which if a house, yet were not tenantable;
No man can sit there safe, the cannon pours
Thorough the walls untight, and bullets' showers.
The neighbourhood ill, and an unwholesome seat,
He at the first salute resolves retreat;
And swore that he would never more dwell there,
Until the city put it in repair;
So he in front, his garrison in rear,
Marched straight to Chatham to increase their fear.
There our sick ships unrigged in summer lay,
Like moulting fowl, a weak and easy prey,
For whose strong bulk earth scarce could timber find,
The ocean water, or the heavens wind;
Those oaken giants of ancient race,
That ruled all seas, and did our channel grace;
The conscious stag, though once the forest's dread,
Flies to the wood, and hides his armless head.
Ruyter forthwith a squadron does untack;
They sail securely through the river's track.
An English pilot too (O, shame! O, sin!)
Cheated of's pay, was he that showed them in.
Our wretched ships within their fate attend,
And all our hopes now on frail chain depend,
(Engine so slight to guard us from the sea,
It fitter seemed to captivate a flea;)
A skipper rude shocks it without respect,
Filling his sails more force to re-collect;
Th' English from shore the iron deaf invoke
For its last aid: hold, chain, or we are broke!
But with her sailing weight the Holland keel,
Snapping the brittle links, does thorough reel,
And to the rest the opening passage show.
Monck from the bank that dismal sight does view:
Our feathered gallants, who came down that day
To be spectators safe of the new play,
Leave him alone when first they hear the gun,
(Cornbury the fleetest), and to London run.
Our seamen, whom no danger's shape could fright,
Unpaid, refuse to mount their ships for spite;
On to their fellows swim on board the Dutch,
Who show the tempting metal in their clutch.
Oft had he sent, of Duncombe and of Legge,
Cannon and powder, but in vain, to beg;
And Upnor Castle's ill-deserted wall,
Now needful does for ammunition call.
He finds, where'er he succour might expect,
Confusion, folly, treachery, fear, neglect.
But when the Royal Charles (what rage! what grief!)
He saw seized, and could give her no relief;
That sacred keel that had, as he, restored
Its exiled sovereign on its happy board,
And thence the British Admiral became,
Crowned for that merit with his master's name;
That pleasure-boat of war, in whose dear side
Secure, so oft he had this foe defied,
Now a cheap spoil, and the mean victor's slave,
Taught the Dutch colours from its top to wave;
Of former glories the reproachful thought,
With present shame compared, his mind distraught.
Such from Euphrates' bank, a tigress fell
After her robbers for her whelps doth yell,
But sees enraged the river flow between,
Frustrate revenge, and love by loss more keen;
At her own breast her useless claws does arm,
She tears herself, since him she cannot harm.
The guards, placed for the chain's and fleet's defence,
Long since were fled on many a feigned pretence.
Daniel had there adventured, man of might;
Sweet Painter, draw his picture while I write.
Paint him of person tall, and big of bone,
Large limbs like ox, not to be killed but shown.
Scarce can burnt ivory feign a hair so black,
Or face so red thine ochre and thy lac;
Mix a vain terror in his martial look,
And all those lines by which men are mistook.
But when by shame constrained to go on board,
He heard how the wild cannon nearer roared,
And saw himself confined like sheep in pen,
Daniel then thought he was in lion's den.
But when the frightful fire-ships he saw,
Pregnant with sulphur, nearer to him draw,
Captain, Lieutenant, Ensign, all make haste,
Ere in the fiery furnace they be cast;
Three children tall, unsinged, away they row,
Like Shadrach, Meshech, and Abednego.
Each doleful day still with fresh loss returns,
The Loyal London now a third time burns;
And the true Royal Oak, and Royal James,
Allied in fate, increase with theirs her flames.
Of all our navy none should now survive,
But that the ships themselves were taught to dive,
And the kind river in its creek them hides
Freighting their pierced keels with oozy tides;
Up to the Bridge contagious terror struck,
The Tower itself with the near danger shook;
And were not Ruyter's maw with ravage cloyed,
Even London's ashes had been then destroyed.
Officious fear, however, to prevent
Our loss, does so much more our loss augment.
The Dutch had robbed those jewels of the Crown;
Our merchant-men, lest they should burn, we drown;
So when the fire did not enough devour,
The houses were demolished near the Tower.
Those ships that yearly from their teeming hole
Unloaded here the birth of either pole,
Fur from the north, and silver from the west,
From the south perfumes, spices from the east,
From Gambo gold, and from the Ganges gems,
Take a short voyage underneath the Thames,
Once a deep river, now with timber floored,
And shrunk, less navigable, to a ford.
Now nothing more at Chatham's left to burn,
The Holland squadron leisurely return;
And spite of Rupert's and of Albermarle's,
To Ruyter's triumph led the captive Charles.
The pleasing sight he often does prolong,
Her mast erect, tough cordage, timber strong,
Her moving shape, all these he doth survey,
And all admires, but most his easy prey.
The seamen search her all within, without;
Viewing her strength, they yet their conquest doubt;
Then with rude shouts, secure, the air they vex,
With gamesome joy insulting on her decks.
Such the feared Hebrew captive, blinded, shorn,
Was led about in sport the public scorn.
Black day, accursed! on thee let no man hail
Out of the port, or dare to hoist a sail,
Or row a boat in thy unlucky hour!
Thee, the year's monster, let thy dam devour,
And constant Time, to keep his course yet right,
Fill up thy space with a redoubled night.
When aged Thames was bound with fetters base,
And Medway chaste ravished before his face,
And their dear offspring murdered in their sight,
Thou and thy fellows saw the odious light.
Sad change, since first that happy pair was wed,
With all the rivers graced their nuptial bed;
And father Neptune promised to resign
His empire old to their immortal line;
Now with vain grief their vainer hopes they rue,
Themselves dishonoured, and the gods untrue;
And to each other, helpless couple, moan,
As the sad tortoise for the sea does groan:
But most they for their darling Charles complain,
And were it burned, yet less would be their pain.
To see that fatal pledge of sea-command,
Now in the ravisher De Ruyter's hand,
The Thames roared, swooning Medway turned her tide,
And were they mortal, both for grief had died.
The Court in fathering yet itself doth please,
(And female Stewart there rules the four seas.)
But fate does still accumulate our woes,
And Richmond her commands, as Ruyter those.
After this loss, to relish discontent,
Some one must be accused by Parliament.
All our miscarriages on Pett must fall,
His name alone seems fit to answer all.
Whose counsel first did this mad war beget?
Who all commands sold through the navy? Pett.
Who would not follow when the Dutch were beat?
Who treated out the time at Bergen? Pett.
Who the Dutch fleet with storms disabled met?
And, rifling prizes, them neglected? Pett.
Who with false news prevented the Gazette?
The fleet divided? writ for Rupert? Pett.
Who all our seamen cheated of their debt,
And all our prizes who did swallow? Pett.
Who did advise no navy out to set?
And who the forts left unprepared? Pett.
Who to supply with powder did forget
Languard, Sheerness, Gravesend, and Upnor? Pett.
Who all our ships exposed in Chatham net?
Who should it be but the fanatic Pett?
Pett, the sea-architect in making ships,
Was the first cause of all these naval slips;
Had he not built, none of these faults had been;
If no creation, there had been no sin;
But his great crime, one boat away he sent,
That lost our fleet and did our flight prevent.
Then, that reward might in its turn take place,
And march with punishment in equal pace,
Southampton dead, much of the treasure's care,
And place in council, fell to Buncombe's share.
All men admired he to that pitch could fly:
Powder ne'er blew man up so soon, so high;
But sure his late good husbandry in petre
Showed him to manage the Exchequer meeter;
And who the forts would not vouchsafe a corn,
To lavish the King's money more would scorn;
Who hath no chimneys, to give all, is best,
And ablest speaker, who of law hath least;
Who less estate, for treasurer most fit,
And for a chancellor he that has least wit;
But the true cause was, that in's brother May,
The Exchequer might the privy-purse obey.
And now draws near the Parliament's return;
Hyde and the Court again begin to mourn;
Frequent in council, earnest in debate,
All arts they try how to prolong its date.
Grave Primate Sheldon (much in preaching there)
Blames the last session, and this more does fear:
With Boynton or with Middleton 'twere sweet,
But with a Parliament abhors to meet;
And thinks 'twill ne'er be well within this nation,
Till it be governed by a Convocation.
But in the Thames' mouth still De Ruyter laid;
The peace not sure, new army must be paid.
Hyde saith he hourly waits for a despatch;
Harry came post just as he showed his watch.
All do agree the articles were clear,
The Holland fleet and Parliament so near,
Yet Harry must job back and all mature,
Binding, ere the Houses meet, the treaty sure;
And 'twixt necessity and spite, till then
Let them come up, so to go down again.
Up ambles country justice on his pad,
And vest bespeaks, to be more seemly clad.
Plain gentlemen are in stage-coach o'erthrown,
And deputy-lieutenants in their own;
The portly burgess, through the weather hot,
Does for his corporation sweat and trot;
And all with sun and choler come adust,
And threaten Hyde to raise a greater dust.
But fresh, as from the mint, the courtiers fine
Salute them, smiling at their vain design;
And Turner gay up to his perch doth march,
With face new bleached, smoothed, and stiff with starch;
Tells them he at Whitehall had took a turn,
And for three days thence moves them to adjourn.
Not so, quoth Tomkins, and straight drew his tongue,
Trusty as steel that always ready hung;
And so proceeding in his motion warm,
Th' army soon raised, he doth as soon disarm.
True Trojan! whilst this town can girls afford,
And long as cider lasts in Hereford,
The girls shall always kiss thee, though grown old,
And in eternal healths thy name be trolled.
Meanwhile the certain news of peace arrives
At Court, and so reprieves their guilty lives.
Hyde orders Turner that he should come late,
Lest some new Tomkins spring a fresh debate;
The King, that early raised was from his rest,
Expects, as at a play, till Turner's dressed;
At last, together Eaton came and he,
No dial more could with the sun agree;
The Speaker, summoned to the Lords, repairs,
Nor gave the Commons leave to say their prayers,
But like his prisoners to the bar them led,
Where mute they stand to hear their sentence read:
Trembling with joy and fear, Hyde them prorogues,
And had almost mistook, and called them rogues.
Dear Painter, draw this Speaker to the foot:
Where pencil cannot, there my pen shall do 't;
That may his body, this his mind explain;
Paint him in golden gown with mace's train;
Bright hair, fair face, obscure and dull of head,
Like knife with ivory haft, and edge of lead:
At prayers his eyes turn up the pious white,
But all the while his private bill's in sight:
In chair he smoking sits like master cook,
And a poll-bill does like his apron look.
Well was he skilled to season any question,
And make a sauce fit for Whitehall's digestion,
Whence every day, the palate more to tickle,
Court-mushrooms ready are sent in to pickle.
When grievance urged, he swells like squatted toad,
Frisks like a frog to croak a tax's load:
His patient piss he could hold longer than
An urinal, and sit like any hen;
At table jolly as a country host,
And soaks his sack with Norfolk like a toast;
At night than chanticleer more brisk and hot,
And sergeant's wife serves him for partelot.
Paint last the King, and a dead shade of night,
Only dispersed by a weak taper's light,
And those bright gleams that dart along and glare
From his clear eyes, (yet these too dart with care;)
There, as in the calm horror all alone,
He wakes and muses of the uneasy throne,
Raise up a sudden shape with virgin's face,
Though ill agree her posture, hour or place;
Naked as born, and her round arms behind,
With her own tresses interwove and twined;
Her mouth locked up, a blind before her eyes,
Yet from beneath her veil her blushes rise;
And silent tears her secret anguish speak,
Her heart throbs, and with very shame would break.
The object strange in him no terror moved,
He wondered first, then pitied, then he loved;
And with kind hand does the coy vision press,
Whose beauty greater seemed by her distress:
But soon shrunk back, chilled with a touch so cold,
And the airy picture vanished from his hold.
In his deep thoughts the wonder did increase,
And he divined 'twas England, or the peace.
Express him startling next, with listening ear,
As one that some unusual noise doth hear;
With cannons, trumpets, drums, his door surround,
But let some other Painter draw the sound.
Thrice he did rise, thrice the vain tumult fled,
But again thunders when he lies in bed.
His mind secure does the vain stroke repeat,
And finds the drums Lewis's march did beat.
Shake then the room, and all his curtains tear,
And with blue streaks infect the taper clear,
While the pale ghost his eyes doth fixed admire
Of grandsire Harry, and of Charles his sire.
Harry sits down, and in his open side
The grisly wound reveals of which he died;
And ghastly Charles, turning his collar low,
The purple thread about his neck does show;
Then whispering to his son in words unheard,
Through the locked door both of them disappeared.
The wondrous night the pensive King revolves,
And rising straight, on Hyde's disgrace resolves.
At his first step he Castlemaine does find,
Bennet and Coventry as 'twas designed;
And they not knowing, the same thing propose
Which his hid mind did in its depths inclose.
Through their feigned speech their secret hearts he knew,
To her own husband Castlemaine untrue;
False to his master Bristol, Arlington;
And Coventry falser than any one,
Who to the brother, brother would betray;
Nor therefore trusts himself to such as they.
His father's ghost too whispered him one note,
That who does cut his purse will cut his throat; "
But in wise anger he their crimes forbears,
As thieves reprieved from executioners;
While Hyde, provoked, his foaming tusk does whet,
To prove them traitors, and himself the Pett.
Painter, adieu. How well our arts agree!
Poetic picture, painted poetry!
But this great work is for our monarch fit,
And henceforth Charles only to Charles shall sit;
His master-hand the ancients shall outdo,
Himself the Painter, and the Poet too.