That no concessions from the throne would please, | No groundless clamours shall my friends remove,
But lenitives fomented the disease:
That Absalom, ambitious of the crown,
Was made the lure to draw the people down:
That false Achitophel's pernicious hate
Had turn'd the plot to ruin church and state:
The council violent, the rabble worse:
That Shimei taught Jerusalem to curse.
With all these loads of injuries opprest,
And long revolving in his careful breast
Th' event of things, at last, his patience tir'd,
Thus, from his royal throne, by Heaven inspir'd,
The godlike David spoke; with awful fear
His train their Maker in their master hear.

"Thus long have I, by native mercy sway'd,
My wrongs dissembled, my revenge delay'd:
So willing to forgive th' offending age;
So much the father did the king assuage.
But now, so far my clemency they slight,
Th' offenders question my forgiving right:
That one was made for many, they contend;
But 'tis to rule; for that's a monarch's end.
They call my tenderness of blood, my fear;
Though manly tempers can the longest bear.
Yet, since they will divert my native course,
'Tis time to show I am not good by force.

Nor crowds have power to punish ere they prove;
For Gods and godlike kings their care express,
Still to defend their servants in distress.
Oh, that my power to saving were confin'd!
Why am I forc'd, like Heaven, against my mind,
To make examples of another kind?
Must I at length the sword of Justice draw?.
Oh curst effects of necessary law!
How ill my fear they by my mercy scan!
Beware the fury of a patient man.
Law they require, let Law then show her face;
They could not be content to look on grace,
Her hinder parts, but with a daring eye
To tempt the terrour of her front, and die.
By their own arts 'tis righteously decreed,
Those dire artificers of Death shall bleed.
Against themselves their witnesses will swear,
Till, viper-like, their mother-plot they tear;
And suck for nutriment that bloody gore,
Which was their principle of life before.
Their Belial with their Beelzebub will fight:
Thus on my foes, my foes shall do me right.
Nor doubt th' event: for factions crowds engage,
In their first onset, all their brutal rage.
Then let them take an unresisted course:

Those heap'd affronts, that haughty subjects bring, Retire, and traverse, and delude their force:

Are burthens for a camel, not a king.
Kings are the public pillars of the state,
Born to sustain and prop the nation's weight:
If my young Samson will pretend a call

To shake the column, let him share the fall:
But oh, that yet he would repent and live!
How easy 'tis for parents to forgive!
With how few tears a pardon might be won
From Nature, pleading for a darling son!
Poor, pitied youth, by my paternal care,
Rais'd up to all the height his frame could bear!
Had God ordain'd his fate for empire born,
He would have given his soul another turn:
Gull'd with a patriot's name, whose modern sense
Is one that would by law supplant his prince;
The people's brave, the politician's tool;
Never was patriot yet, but was a fool.
Whence comes it, that religion and the laws
Should more be Absalom's than David's cause?
His old instructor, ere he lost his place,

Was never thought endued with so much grace.
Good Heavens, how Faction can a patriot paint!
My rebel ever proves my people's saint.
Would they impose an heir upon the throne,
Let sanhedrims be taught to give their own.
A king 's at least a part of government,
And mine as requisite as their consent:
Without my leave a future king to choose,
Infers a right the present to dispose.
True, they petition me t' approve their choice:
But Esau's hands suit ill with Jacob's voice.
My pious subjects for my safety pray;
Which to secure, they take my power away.
From plots and treasons Heaven preserve my years,
But save me most from my petitioners.
Unsatiate as the barren womb or grave,
God cannot grant so much as they can crave.
What then is left, but with a jealous eye
To guard the small remains of royalty?
The law shall still direct my peaceful sway,
And the same law teach rebels to obey :
Votes shall no more establish'd power control,
Such votes as make a part exceed the whole.

VOL. VIII.

But, when they stand all breathless, urge the fight,
And rise upon them with redoubled might:
For lawful power is still superior found;
When long driven back, at length it stands the
ground."

He said: Th' Almighty nodding gave consent;
And peals of thunder shook the firmament.
Henceforth a series of new time began,
The mighty years in long procession ran:
Once more the godlike David was restor'd,
And willing nations knew their lawful lord.

ABSALOM AND ACHITOPHEL.
PART II.

-Si quis tamen hæc quoque, si quis
Captus amore leget-

TO THE READER.

In the year 1680 Mr. Dryden undertook the poem of Absalom and Achitophel, upon the desire of king Charles the Second. The performance was applauded by every one; and several persons pressing him to write a second part, he, upon declining it himself, spoke to Mr. Tate to write one, and gave him his advice in the direction of it; and that part beginning with

Next these, a troop of busy spirits press, and ending with

To talk like Doeg, and to write like theecontaining near two hundred verses, were entirely Mr. Dryden's composition, besides some touches in other places. The preceding lines, upwards of three hundred in number, were written by Mr. Tate. The poem is here printed complete.

M m

530

ABSALOM AND ACHITOPHEL.
SINCE men like beasts each other's prey were made,
Since trade began, and priesthood grew a trade,
Since realms were form'd, none sure so curst as those
That madly their own happiness oppose;
There Heaven itself, and godlike kings, in vain
Shower down the manna of a gentle reign;
While pamper'd crowds to mad sedition run,
And monarchs by indulgence are undone.
Thus David's clemency was fatal grown,
While wealthy Faction aw'd the wanting throne.
For now their sovereign's orders to contemn
Was held the charter of Jerusalem,
His rights t' invade, his tributes to refuse,
A privilege peculiar to the Jews;

As if from heavenly call this licence fell,
And Jacob's seed were chosen to rebel!

Achitophel with triumph sees his crimes
Thus suited to the madness of the times;
And Absalom, to make his hopes succeed,
Of flattering charms no longer stands in need;
While, fond of change, though ne'er so dearly bought,
Our tribes outstrip the youth's ambitious thought;
His swiftest hopes with swifter homage meet,
And crowd their servile necks beneath his feet.
Thus to his aid while pressing tides repair,
He mounts and spreads his streamers in the air.
The charms of empire might his youth mislead,
But what can our besotted Israel plead?
Sway'd by a monarch, whose serene command
Seems half the blessing of our promis'd land.
Whose only grievance is excess of ease;
Freedom our pain, and plenty our discase!
Yet as all folly would lay claim to sense,
And wickedness ne'er wanted a pretence,
With arguments they 'd make their treason good,
And righteous David's self with slanders load:
That arts of foreign sway he did affect,
And guilty Jebusites from law protect,
Whose very chiefs, convict, were never freed,
Nay we have seen their sacrificers bleed;
Accusers' infamy is urg'd in vain,
While in the bounds of sense they did contain,
But soon they lanch'd into th' unfathom'd tide,
And in the depths they knew disdain'd to ride.
For probable discoveries to dispense,
Was thought below a pension'd evidence;
Mere truth was dull, nor suited with the port
Of pamper'd Corah, when advanc'd to court.
No less than wonders now they will impose,
And projects void of grace or sense disclose.
Such was the change on pious Michal brought,
Michal that ne'er was cruel ev'n in thought,
The best of queens, and most obedient wife,
Impeach'd of curst designs on David's life!
His life, the theme of her eternal prayer,
'Tis scarce so much his guardian angels' care.
Not summer morns such mildness can diselose,
The Hermon lily, nor the Sharon rose.
Neglecting each vain pomp of majesty,
Transported Michal feeds her thoughts on high.
She lives with angels, and, as angels do,
Quits Heaven sometimes to bless the world below.
Where, cherish'd by her bounty's plenteous spring,
Reviving widows smile, and orphans sing.
Oh! when rebellious Israel's crimes, at height,
Are threaten'd with her lord's approaching fate,
The piety of Michal then remain

In Heaven's remembrance, and prolong his reign!

Less desolation did the pest pursue,
That from Dan's limits to Beersheba flew,
Less fatal the repeated wars of Tyre,
And less Jerusalem's avenging fire.
With gentle terrour these our state o'erran,
Than since our evidencing days began!
On every cheek a pale confusion sat,
Continued fear beyond the worst of fate!
Trust was no more, art, science, useless made,
All occupations lost but Corah's trade.
Meanwhile a guard on modest Corah wait,

If not for safety, needful yet for state.

Well might he deem each peer and prince his slave,
And lord it o'er the tribes which he could save:
Ev'n vice in him was virtue-what sad fate,

But for his honesty, had seiz'd our state!
And with what tyranny had we been curst,
Had Corah never prov'd a villain first!

T have told his knowledge of th' intrigue in gross,
Had been, alas! to our deponent's loss:
The travell'd Levite had th' experience got,
To husband well, and make the best of 's plot;
And therefore, like an evidence of skill,
With wise reserves secur'd his pension still;
Not quite of future power himself bereft,
But limbos large for unbelievers left.
And now his writ such reverence had got,
'Twas worse than plotting to suspect his plot.
Some were so well convinc'd, they made no doubt
Themselves to help the founder'd swearers out.
Some had their sense impos'd on by their fear,
But more for interest sake believe and swear:
Ev'n to that height with some the frenzy grew,
They rag'd to find their danger not prove true.
Yet, than all these a viler crew remain,
Who with Achitophel the cry maintain;
Not urg'd by fear, nor through misguided sense,
Blind zeal and starving need had some pretence,
But for the good old cause, that did excite
Th' original rebels' wiles, revenge, and spite.
These raise the plot to have the scandal thrown
Upon the bright successor of the crown,
Whose virtue with such wrongs they had pursued,
As seem'd all hope of pardon to exclude.
Thus, while on private ends their zeal is built,
The cheated crowd applaud and share their guilt.
Such practices as these, too gross to lie
Long unobserv'd by each discerning eye,
The more judicious Israelites unspell'd,
Though still the charm the giddy rabble held,
Ev'n Absalom amidst the dazzling beams
Of empire, and ambition's flattering dreams,
Perceives the plot, too foul to be excus'd,
To aid designs, no less pernicious, us'd.
And, filial sense yet striving in his breast,
Thus to Achitophel his doubts exprest.

Why are my thoughts upon a crown employ'd,
Which once obtain'd can be but half enjoy'd?
Not so when virtue did my arms require,
And to my father's wars I flew entire.
My regal power how will my foes resent,
When I myself have scarce my own consent!
Give me a son's unblemish'd truth again,
Or quench the sparks of duty that remain.
How slight to force a throne that legions guard
The task to me; to prove unjust, how hard!
And if th' imagin'd guilt thus wound my thought,
What will it when the tragic scene is wrought?
Dire war must first be conjur'd from below,
The realm we 'd rule, we first must overthrow:

532

DRYDEN'S POEMS.

Whose heads, though ne'er so differing in their creed,
I' th' point of treason yet were well agreed.
'Mongst these, extorting Ishban first appears,
Pursued by a meagre troop of bankrupt heirs.
Blest times, when Ishban, he whose occupation
So long has been to cheat, reform the nation!
Ishban of conscience suited to his trade,
As good a saint as usurer ever made.
Yet Mammon has not so engrost him quite,
But Belial lays as large a claim of spite;
Who, for those pardons from his prince he draws,
Returns reproaches, and cries up the cause.
That year in which the city he did sway,
He left rebellion in a hopeful way.

Yet his ambition once was found so bold,
To offer talents of extorted gold;

Could David's wants have so been brib'd, to shame
And scandalize our peerage with his name;
For which, his dear sedition he'd forswear,
And ev'n turn loyal to be made a peer.
Next him, let railing Rabsheka have place,
So full of zeal he has no need of grace;
A saint that can both flesh and spirit use,
Alike haunt conventicles and the stews:
Of whom the question difficult appears,
If most i' th' preachers' or the bawds' arrears.
What caution could appear too much in hin
That keeps the treasure of Jerusalem!

Let David's brother but approach the town,
"Double our guards!" he cries, "we are undone."
Protesting that he dares not sleep in 's bed
Lest he should rise next morn without his head.
Next these, a troop of busy spirits press,
Of little fortunes, and of conscience less;
With them the tribe, whose luxury had drain'd
Their banks, in former sequestrations gain'd;
Who rich and great by past rebellions grew,
And long to fish the troubled streams anew.
Some future hopes, some present payment draws,
To sell their conscience and espouse the cause.
Such stipends those vile hirelings best befit,
Priests without grace, and poets without wit.
Shall that false Hebronite escape our curse,
Judas, that keeps the rebels' pension-purse;
Judas, that pays the treason-writer's fee,
Judas, that well deserves his namesake's tree;
Who at Jerusalem's own gates erects
His college for a nursery of sects;
Young prophets with an early care secures,
And with the dung of his own arts manures?
What have the men of Hebron here to do?
What part in Israel's promis'd land have you?
Here Phaleg, the lay-Hebronite is come,
'Cause, like the rest, he could not live at home;
Who from his own possessions could not drain
An omer even of Hebronitish grain,

Here struts it like a patriot, and talks high
Of injur'd subjects, alter'd property:

An emblem of that buzzing insect just,

For never Hebronite, though kick'd and scorn'd,
To his own country willingly return'd.

-But, leaving famish'd Phaleg to be fed,
And to talk treason for his daily bread,
Let Hebron, nay let Hell produce a man
So made for mischief as Ben-Jochanan.
A Jew of humble parentage was he,
By trade a Levite, though of low degree:
His pride no higher than the desk aspir'd,
But for the drudgery of priests was hir'd
To read and pray in linen ephod brave,
And pick up single shekels from the grave.
Marry'd at last, but finding charge come faster,
He could not live by God, but chang'd his master.
Inspir'd by want, was made a factious tool,
They got a villain, and we lost a fool.
Still violent, whatever cause he took,
But most against the party he forsook.
For renegadoes, who ne'er turn by halves,
Are bound in conscience to be double knaves.
So this prose-prophet took most monstrous pains,
To let his masters see he earn'd his gains.
But, as the Devil owes all his imps a shame,
He chose th' apostate for h's proper theme;
With little pains he made the picture true,
And from reflection took the rogue he drew.
A wondrous work, to prove the Jewish nation
In every age a murmuring generation;
To trace them from their infancy of sinning,
And show them factious from their first beginning.
To prove they could rebel, and rail, and mock,
Much to the credit of the chosen flock;
A strong authority, which must convince,
That saints own no allegiance to their prince.
As 'tis a leading-card to make a whore,
To prove her mother had turn'd up before.
But, tell me, did the drunken patriarch bless
The son that show'd his father's nakedness?
Such thanks the present church thy pen will give,
Which proves rebellion was so primitive.
Must ancient failings be examples made?
Then murtherers from Cain may learn their trade.
As thou the heathen and the saint hast drawn,
Methinks th' apostate was the better man:
And thy hot father, waving my respect,
Not of a mother-church, but of a sect.
And such he needs must be of thy indit'ng,
This comes of drinking asses milk and writing.
If Balak should be call'd to leave his place,
As profit the loudest call of grace,
His temple, dispossess'd of one, would be
Replenish'd with seven devils more by thee.

Levi, thou art a load, I'll lay thee down,
And show Rebellion bare, without a gown;
Poor slaves in metre, dull and addle-pated,
Who rhyme below ev'n David's psalms translated
Some in my speedy pace I must outrun,
As lame Mephibosheth the wizard's son:
To make quick way, I'll leap o'er heavy blocks,

That mounts the wheel, and thinks she raises dust. Shun rotten Uzza as I would the pox;

Can dry bones live? or skeletons produce
The vital warmth of cuckoldizing juice?
Slim Phaleg could, and, at the table fed,
Return'd the grateful product to the bed.
A waiting-man to travelling nobles chose,
He his own laws would saucily impose,
Till bastinaded back again he went,

To learn those manners he to teach was sent.
Chastis'd he ought to have retreated home,
But he reads politics to Absalom.

And hasten Og and Doeg to rehearse,
Two fools that crutch their feeble sense on verse;
Who by my Muse to all succeeding times,
Shall live in spite of their own doggrel rhymes.
Doeg, though without knowing how or why,
Made still a blundering kind of melody;
Spurr'd boldly on, and dash'd through thick and th
Through sense and nonsense, never out nor in;
Free from all meaning, whether good or bad,
And, in one word, heroically mad:

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