No doubt, reply'd the Hind, as fure as all The writings of Saint Peter and Saint Paul :
On that decifion let it ftand or fall.
Now for my converts, who, you say, unfed
Have follow'd me for miracles of bread;
Judge not by hearfay, but obferve at least,
If fince their change their loaves have been increas'd.
The Lion buys no converts; if he did,
Beafts would be fold as faft as he could bid.
Tax those of interest who conform for gain,
Or ftay the market of another reign:
Your broad-way fons would never be too nice
To close with Calvin, if he paid their price;
But rais'd three steeples higher would change their note,
And quit the caflock for the canting-coat.
Now, if you damn this cenfure, as too bold,
Judge by yourselves, and think not others fold.
Mean-time my fons accus'd, by fame's report,
Pay fmall attendance at the Lion's court,
Nor rife with early crowds, nor flatter late;
For filently they beg, who daily wait.
Preferment is beftow'd, that comes unfought;
Attendance is a bribe, and then 'tis bought.
How they fhould fpeed, their fortune is untry'd;
For not to ask, is not to be deny'd.
For what they have, their God and king they bless,
And hope they should not murmur, had they lefs.
But if reduc'd fubfiftence to implore,
In common prudence they would pass your door.
Unpity'd Hudibras, your champion friend,
Has fhewn how far your charities extend.
This lafting verfe fhall on his tomb be read,
"He fham'd you living, and upbraids you dead."
With odious atheist names you load your foes
Your liberal clergy why did I expose?
It never fails in charities like those.
In climes where true religion is profefs'd,
That imputation were no laughing jest.
But Imprimatur, with a chaplain's name,
Is here fufficient licence to defame.
What wonder is 't that black detraction thrives;
The homicide of names is lefs than lives;
And yet the perjur'd murderer survives.
This faid, fhe paus'd a little, and fupprefs'd
The boiling indignation of her breast.
She knew the virtue of her blade, nor would
Pollute her fatire with ignoble blood:
Her panting foe fhe faw before her eye,
And back she drew the fhining weapon dry.
So when the generous Lion has in fight
His equal match, he rouzes for the fight;
But when his foe lies proftrate on the plain,
He fheaths his paws, uncurls his angry mane,
And, pleas'd with bloodless honours of the day,
Walks over and difdains th' inglorious prey.
So James, if great with less we may compare,
Arrefts his rolling thunder-bolts in air;
And grants ungrateful friends a lengthen'd-space,
Timplore the remnants of long-fuffering grace.
This breathing-time the matron took; and then
Refum'd the thread of her discourse again.
Be vengeance wholly left to powers divine,
And let heaven judge betwixt your fons and mine:
If joys hereafter must be purchas'd here
With lofs of all that mortals hold fo dear,
Then welcome infamy and public shame,
And, last, a long farewel to worldly fame.
'Tis faid with ease, but, oh, how hardly try’d
By haughty fouls to human honour ty'd!
O fharp convulfive pangs of agonizing pride!
Down then, thou rebel, never more to rise,
And what thou didst and doft fo dearly prize,
That fame, that darling fame, make that thy facrifice.
'Tis nothing thou hast given, then add thy tears
For a long race of unrepenting years:
'Tis nothing yet, yet all thou haft to give :
Then add those may-be years thou hast to live:
Yet nothing still; then poor, and naked come :
Thy father will receive his unthrift home,
And thy bleft Saviour's blood difcharge the mighty
Thus (the purfued) I discipline a fon,
Whofe uncheck'd fury to revenge would run :
He champs the bit, impatient of his lofs,
And ftarts afide, and flounders at the crofs.
Inftruct him better, gracious God! to know,
As thine is vengeance, fo forgiveness too :
That, fuffering from ill tongues, he bears no more Than what his fovereign bears, and what his Saviour bore.
It now remains for you to school your child,
And ask why God's anointed he revil'd ;
A king and princess dead! did Shimei worse ?
The curfer's punishment should fright the curfe:
Your fon was warn'd, and wifely gave it o'er,
But he who counsel'd him has paid the score:
The heavy malice could no higher tend,
But woe to him on whom the weights descend!
So to permitted ills the dæmon flies;
His rage is aim'd at him who rules the skies:
Conftrain'd to quit his cause, no fuccour found,
The foe difcharges every tire around,
In clouds of finoke abandoning the fight;
But his own thundering peals proclaim his flight.
In Henry's change his charge as ill fucceeds;
To that long ftory little anfwer needs:
Confront but Henry's words with Henry's deeds.
Were space allow'd, with ease it might be prov'd,
What fprings his blessed reformation mov’d.
The dire effects appear'd in open fight,
Which from the cause he calls a distant flight,
And yet no larger leap than from the fun to light.
Now let your fons a double pæan found,
A treatise of humility is found.
'Tis found, but better it had ne'er been fought, Than thus in proteftant proceffion brought.
The fam'd original through Spain is known,
Rodriguez' work, my celebrated fon,
Which yours, by ill-tranflating, made his own ;
Conceal'd its author, and ufurp'd the name,
The bafeft and ignobleft theft of fame.
My altars kindled first that living coal;
Reftore or practise better what you stole:
That virtue could this humble verse inspire,
'Tis all the reftitution I require.
Glad was the Panther that the charge was clos'd.
And none of all her favourite fons expos'd.
For laws of arms permit each injur'd man,
To make himfelf a faver where he can.
Perhaps the plunder'd merchant cannot tell
The names of pirates in whofe hands he fell ;
But at the den of thieves he justly flies,
And every Algerine is lawful prize.
No private perfon in the foe's eftate
Can plead exemption from the public fate.
Yet chriftian laws allow not fuch redress;
Then let the greater fuperfede the less.
But let th' abetters of the Panther's crime
Learn to make fairer wars another time.
Some characters may fure be found to write
Among her fons; for 'tis no common fight,
A spotted dam, and all her offspring white.
The Savage, though fhe faw her plea control'd,
Yet would not wholly feem to quit her hold,
But offer'd fairly to compound the ftrife,
And judge conversion by the convert's life.
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