Monday, July 16, 2018

Register in Linguistics Rajarata University of Sri Lanka Second Year Students 17.07.2018


The way you speak to a young child is probably not the same way you speak to a close friend—or, for that matter, the way you would speak to a judge in a courtroom. Those different ways of speaking to different people in different contexts are what we call register.
In linguistics, the register is defined as the way a speaker uses language differently in different circumstances. Think about the words you choose, your tone of voice, even your body language. You probably behave very differently chatting with a friend than you would at a formal dinner party or during a job interview. These variations in formality, also called stylistic variation, are known as registers in linguistics. They are determined by such factors as social occasion, contextpurpose, and audience.
Registers are marked by a variety of specialized vocabulary and turns of phrases, colloquialisms and the use of jargon, and a difference in intonation and pace; in "The Study of Language," linguist George Yule describes the function of jargon as helping " to create and maintain connections among those who see themselves as 'insiders' in some way and to exclude 'outsiders'."
Registers are used in all forms of communication, including written, spoken, and signed. Depending on grammar, syntax, and tone, the register may be extremely rigid or very intimate. You don't even need to use an actual word to communicate effectively. A huff of exasperation during a debate or a grin while signing "hello" speaks volumes.
Types of Linguistic Register
Some linguists say there are just two types of register: formal and informal. This isn't incorrect, but it is an oversimplification. Instead, most who study language say there are five distinct registers.
1.     Frozen: This form is sometimes called the static register because it refers to historic language or communication that is intended to remain unchanged, like a constitution or prayer. Examples: The Bible, the United States Constitution, the Bhagavad Gita, "Romeo and Juliet"
2.     Formal: Less rigid but still constrained, the formal register is used in professional, academic, or legal settings where communication is expected to be respectful, uninterrupted, and restrained. Slang is never used, and contractions are rare. Examples: a TED talk, a business presentation, the Encyclopaedia Brittanica, "Gray's Anatomy," by Henry Gray.
3.     Consultative: People use this register often in conversation when they're speaking with someone who has specialized knowledge or who is offering advice. Tone is often respectful (use of courtesy titles) but may be more casual if the relationship is longstanding or friendly (a family doctor). Slang is sometimes used, people may pause or interrupt one another. Examples: the local TV news broadcast, an annual physical, a service provider like a plumber.
4.     Casual: This is the register people use when they're with friends, close acquaintances and coworkers, and family. It's probably the one you think of when you consider how you talk with other people, often in a group setting. Use of slang, contractions, and vernacular grammar is all common, and people may also use expletives or off-color language in some settings. Examples: a birthday party, a backyard BBQ.
5.     Intimate: Linguists say this register is reserved for special occasions, usually between only two people and often in private. Intimate language may be something as simple as an inside joke between two college friends or a word whispered in a lover's ear.
Additional Resources and Tips
Knowing which register to use can be challenging for English students. Unlike Spanish and other languages, there is no special form of a pronoun expressly for use in formal situations. Culture adds another layer of complication, especially if you're not familiar with how people are expected to behave in certain situations.
Teachers say there are two things you can do to improve your skills. Look for contextual clues such as vocabulary, use of examples, and illustrations. Listen for tone of voice. Is the speaker whispering or yelling? Are they using courtesy titles or addressing people by name? Look at how they're standing and consider the words they choose.


Absalom and Achitophel- Rajarata University of Sri Lanka-Second Year Students


In Absalom and Achitophel, the leader of the group of antagonists to King David (Charles II) is Achitophel (Anthony Ashley Cooper), the first Earl of Shaftesbury. Achitophel exploited the anti-Catholicism created by the Popish Plot, and placed his support behind the Exclusion Bill, which would prevent James from succeeding his brother Charles to the throne. Achitophel selects Absalom (King Charles' illegitimate son) as the fittest candidate for kingship.
With studied flattery and art, Achitophel begins a long temptation speech to seduce Absalom to this rebellious cause. Absalom is told that the country anxiously desires him to become King. King Charles has lost popular support since the promulgation of the Popish Plot. Besides, the King has no allies anymore, and Egypt (France) would help Absalom win the throne. Absalom has not only royal blood but the complete support of the people. He thus would be a much more powerful ruler than a King by succession (James, for example).
Absalom has been made drunk by flattery and his ambition has been kindled. He, however, defends his father in generous terms. David, he believes, is a good King, and has also been personally good to him. Hence he should not turn against his father. He points out that the crown should rightfully be given to David's brother who also possesses every royal virtue. Absalom knows that his illegitimate birth gives him no legal right to the throne, he laments and even rejects his mother for having no royal blood, and wishes he had been born higher.
At this display of momentary weakness, Achitophel renews his temptation. The throne needs someone like Absalom who has a powerful nature. King David, by contrast, has become weak and gives the people more than they need. Achitophel assures that he has carefully weakened the nation's willingness to accept either Charles or James, then it is their right to select their own King. Further, James watches Absalom's popularity with much suspicion and envy, so that, if James assumes power, he will seek to eliminate Absalom. Therefore, Absalom should exercise the right of self-defense.
Achitophel advises Absalom to take up arms in apparent defense of King David, and to accuse James of plotting to murder the King. Thus Absalom will be able to force David to grant him succession to the throne. And it is probable, Achitophel argues, that David wants to do this, but wishes to be pressured into it. In this matter, the King is like a woman who appears to resist a man's advances, but secretly wishes to be taken. Achitophel urges Absalom to "commit a pleasing rape upon the crown", This final argument convinces Absalom who again regrets that his illegitimate birth has debarred him from the throne. This brings to a close Achitophel's temptation of Absalom. The gullible youth is by now fully beguiled to the prospect of the crown into becoming the tool of a malevolent counselor as the popular Protestant contender for the throne.
Absalom and Achitophel, verse satire by English poet John Dryden published in 1681. The poem, which is written in heroic couplets, is about the Exclusion crisis, a contemporary episode in which anti-Catholics, notably the earl of Shaftesbury, sought to bar James, duke of York, a Roman Catholic convert and brother to King Charles II, from the line of succession in favour of the king’s illegitimate(but Protestant) son, the duke of Monmouth. Dryden based his work on a biblical incident recorded in 2 Samuel 13–19. These chapters relate the story of King David’s favourite son Absalom and his false friend Achitophel (Ahithophel), who persuades Absalom to revolt against his father. In his poem, Dryden assigns each figure in the crisis a biblical name; e.g., Absalom is Monmouth, Achitophel is Shaftesbury, and David is Charles II. Despite the strong anti-Catholic tenor of the times, Dryden’s clear and persuasive dissection of the intriguers’ motives helped to preserve the duke of York’s position.
A second part of the poem—largely composed by Nahum Tate, playwright and poet laureate of Britain, but containing 200 lines by Dryden that were directed at his literary rivals Thomas Shadwelland Elkanah Settle—was published in 1682.

Dryden’s political satire Absalom and Achitophel reflects upon politics in England during the era of the Popish Plot (1679-1681), when the Whig Party, under the leadership of the earl of Shaftesbury, sought to prevent the legitimate succession of James, duke of York, because of his Catholicism. The Whigs supported a parliamentary bill that would have placed the illegitimate son of Charles II, James, duke of Monmouth, on the throne. Alarmed by efforts to tamper with established monarchical power, Dryden employs the biblical revolt against David by his son Absalom as a parallel narrative to discredit the Whig cause.
The poem represents a mixed, or Varronian, kind of satire, for satiric passages exist alongside straightforward normative portions. The plot is both loose and inconclusive, the satiric elements being confined to the poem’s first major section. Dryden narrates the origin and development of the supposed plot, which the Whigs had concocted to discredit the king’s position. Each prominent Whig leader is the subject of an extended poetic character, ridiculing him as extremist and undermining his reputation. Though biblical names are used, readers of the time clearly recognized each object of Dryden’s satiric thrusts. The efforts of Achitophel to tempt Absalom are partially successful. In the second section, Dryden outlines his theory of government, advocating established rights and powers and rejecting innovation. A second series of characters praises the king’s supporters in Parliament, and the poem concludes with a speech by King David (Charles II) upholding his traditional rights, offering conciliation, but also indicating firmness.
In the poetic characters, Dryden’s artistic skill is at its best. Using witty aphorisms and the stylistic conventions of the couplet—such as balance, antithesis, and chiasmus—Dryden succeeds in discrediting Whig leaders.

Absalom and Achitophel is a widely celebrated satirical poem written by John Dryden, first published anonymously in November of 1681. It is written using the heroic couplet form, and is considered one of the finest English political satires of all time. It is credited with being the first written satire in the English language, and tells the Biblical story of Absalom, who rebels against King David. This, however, is commonly understood as an allegorical reading, and the events of the poem are actually about Dryden’s contemporaries, Charles II and the Exclusion Crisis. In writing the poem, Dryden hoped to rouse the populous against The Earl of Shaftesbury, along with the Whig Party. These groups had sponsored and advocated for this Exclusion Bill, which if successful, would prevent James II from succeeding to the throne. The bill was blocked by the House of Lords on two separate occasions. This was during the era of the Popish Plot, which took place during the years 1679 to 1681.
The allegory begins by representing England as the Biblical land of Israel, and the Englishmen as the Jews. The group of antagonists in the poem are working against King David, whose modern representation is Charles II. The First Earl of Shaftesbury takes on the role of Achitophel, the leader of this group. He exploits the Anti-Catholicism which was created during the Popish Plot. Achitophel decides that Absalom (in contemporary terms, King Charles’ illegitimate son) is the best candidate to take the throne instead.
Zimri, Shimei, and Corah, followers of Achitophel, are described in detail throughout the conversation between Achitophel and Absalom. This part of the poem distinctly resembles Milton’s Paradise Lost, which also lists what is now known as an epic catalogue.
Achitophel begins a very long speech, during which he attempts to convince Absalom to join his rebellion. He tells Absalom that the country cries for him to take the throne in secret. He says King Charles is not popular anymore because of the Popish Plot, and he has no other allies. Achitophel says that Egypt (modern translation here is France) will help Absalom to claim the throne as his own. He not only has the royal blood that is necessary to gain support of the people, but would be a much better King than anyone who would inherit the throne by means of succession. Here the reader is meant to understand the reference to James.
Absalom defends his father, saying David is a good King and has always treated him with kindness. But Absalom is also ambitious, and is fighting against the constant flattery that Achitophel is giving him. Absalom refuses to turn against his father. He says the crown should go to the person who rightfully deserves it, David’s brother, who has all the royal virtues. He admits his illegitimate birth makes him unsuited for the job, and wishes he had been born higher.
Achitophel renews his persuasion tactics. He implores Absalom to save the “religion, commonwealth and liberty” of their country. The throne needs someone powerful, like Absalom. David, on the other hand, is weak and gives the people too much. The nation has been carefully weakened, and they have a right to choose their own king. James is also jealous of Absalom, who should claim the throne as an act of self defense. Achitophel tells Absalom to pretend defense of King David, and then accuse James of plotting to murder the King. This will allow Absalom to force David to grant him, Absalom, succession. Achitophel also argues that David wants to do this anyway, but will not without some external pressure. David, Achitophel says, is like a woman who pretends to avoid a man’s advances but secretly wants them. This rather troublesome argument finally convinces Absalom to “commit a pleasing rape upon the crown.” The youth has now been gulled into becoming a tool for Achitophel’s ambitions.
The rest of the poem then deals with the beginnings of the rebellion, led by Achitophel (Shaftsebury), all within the very powerful and resonant allegory of the Bible. Absalom makes a very successful public speech promising peace to the people.
Dryden explains the many political issues throughout the poem in great detail. He makes a number of political arguments, all the while employing the use of the poetic verse.
The poem finally ends with King David’s speech, during which he upholds his traditional rights, offers conciliation to all the rebels, but also demonstrates firmness in his decisions.

Absalom and Achitophel by John Dryden: Detailed Summary

King David of Israel who is compared to Charles II of England had no legitimate issue from his legally married wife, though he had a number of illegitimate children from his several mistresses. Of these illegitimate issues, Absalom who is compared to the Duke of Monmouth was the bravest, handsomest and most polished of mien and manners. He charmed everybody and won their esteem and regard. He had distinguished himself in a number of battles abroad. He was the favorite child of his father, the King, and popular with the people.
https://www.bachelorandmaster.com/media/show/159
John Dryden (1631-1700)


The Jews (English) were moody and self-willed. They were not satisfied even under the mild and gentle rule of King David. They clamored for greater liberty. They cherished the belief that since they had restored the king to the throne they had also the right to dethrone him. But the sober-minded section of the people was peace-loving. It had not forgotten the horrors that the civil war brought in its train. So, it wanted peace. Further, David ruled so well that even the malcontents among the people could not get a chance to raise the banner of revolt. Only the Devil alone provided them with an excuse to rebel. It was the so-called Popish Plot.
The Jebusites (Catholics) were treated oppressively by the chosen people (Protestants) in a variety of ways. They were deprived of their lands and were made to pay enhanced taxes. They could not be appointed to any high post under the government and were made to suffer many disabilities. They continued to suffer silently, but the situation became highly insufferable for them when their gods and holy relics were burnt. Such a turn in the situation they made a bid to convert the Protestants to their faith. This alarmed the Jewish Rabbles (the clergy) of the Church of England and also inflamed their mind. Hence originated the Popish Plot. This plot was verified with solemn oath by Titus Oates and others and was similarly denied and disowned by the Catholics. It was even alleged that the Jebusites (Catholics) had designed to assassinate the King.
The plot failed to win its immediate objective, but its repercussions were wide ranging. A number of people who were dissatisfied with the King for this or that reason emerged into activity and set about organizing a revolt against the government. The chief among the disgruntled band was Achitophel (Shaftesbury) who was surprisingly cunning and treacherous. In the matter of principles and morality, he was completely barren and bankrupt. He was perpetually discontented and restless. He made a bold and capable leader in times of danger, but was no good in times of peace. As a judge he was upright and above board, but as a politician he was abominable. He was determined either to rule the state or ruin it. In order to realize his unholy aim, he posed himself as the defender and promoter of the people's cause and a champion of their rights and liberty. He exploited the Popish Plot to inflame the popular mind. He set the rumor on foot that the King himself was a Catholic at heart who had signed a secret treaty with the Catholic France, their enemy. In this way he raised the anger of the heedless Jews.
Achitophel required a person who could act as a leader of the people and yet remain a puppet dancing to the pull of his wire. To him, Absalom appeared to be the most suitable person for his purpose. Achitophel knew that as Absalom was the illegitimate son of the king and had thus no legal title to the throne, he would depend entirely on his support and backing. So he tried to win him to his side by means of a number of cunning and plausible arguments. He began by flattering him and asserting that he was cut out for being a king, and as the people wanted him he must come forward to champion their cause. He tickled his vanity by calling him the savior of the nation and assured him that he was immensely popular. He then pointed to him that there was a current in the affairs of man which, taken on the tide, led on to fortune. Such a golden chance had now come for him and he must hurry to seize it. He must follow the example of his father who returned from exile swiftly at the call of the people and became the king. Again, he should not be afraid of the King because he had forfeited the love and regard of his people and was old, infirm and friendless. He was surrounded by enemies on all sides. If he went in for foreign help, people will detest him all the more. Achitophel further confined to him that by his cunning methods he had turned the people dead against David. People wanted their rights and liberty and they needed a suitable and capable leader to guide them in their movement. And none was as suitable as Absalom because he had royal blood in his veins.
Absalom listened to Achitophel's address attentively and felt flattered. But he hesitated to act upon it at once. In the first flush of thought it appeared to him that the course he was called upon to follow was inappropriate and inadvisable. So he replied to Achitophel thus -
"There is no excuse for me to rebel against my father whose rule is kind, gentle and benevolent. He is so merciful that he pardons even his enemies, and is ever eager to do good to his people. Even if he were a callous and cruel ruler oppressing his subjects it would not have been possible for me to rebel against him because he is after all my father. My sense of duty would deter me. Besides, he loves me and gives me every-thing except the right to inherit the crown because being his illegitimate issue I am not entitled to it. His brother (James) has every right in law to the throne and he is just, noble and capable. I regret that fate has made me illegitimate. I feel that I am fit for being a king, and the desire to be great troubles my heart."
The concluding observation of Absalom gave hope to Achitophel. He realized shrewdly that Absalom loved to be great, but was hesitant. So he decided to make him firm in his resolve. With that end in view he began further and spoke to Absalom thus,
You should not let your extraordinary talents rot in idleness. God has made you to rule and so you must give the people the bliss and blessings of your reign, David is undoubtedly gentle and generous, but manly vein and vigor suits a king better. The people take his gentleness as a sign of weakness and so hate him. And thinking him a weak ruler they are trying to free themselves from his bondage. Sanhedrin (Parliament kept him poor, and every time he approached it for funds he was obliged by it to give up some of his rights. I myself would continue to embarrass him with new plots of entangle him in the mesh of costly wars. His faithful friends are all suspects and he is hated by the people, for he is a Catholic. Moreover, the kings are the trustees of the people who have every right to withdraw the executive authority which the king holds and weilds as their trustee. The laws of succession are made for the good of the people. As for his love, let him show it in actual practice. If he loves you, why does he not declare you his successor? His brother hates you, and is waiting for a suitable opportunity to annihilate you. You should, therefore, take time by the forelock and strike while the iron is hot. You should rise against your father, but pose and declare to the people that the King's life was in danger and you are only trying to free him from the clutches of his enemies, the Catholics. And who can say that, perhaps, David himself wants to make you the king but is afraid of his brother and wants to be taken by force”
The most important among Achitophel's followers was Zimri (Duke of Buckingham). He was an inconstant man of rigidly held extremist views. He squandered away his wealth and was banished from court on account of his own fault and foolishness. He then tried to form parties against the King, but could not become the leader of any one of them. He was inherently wicked, but lacked the means to put his wickedness into practice.
Next in importance in the group was Shimie (Slingsby Bethel, the Sheriff of London). He was so badly corrupt and debased that he did not shrink from even cursing the King. He was a miser of the worst type, so much so that he gave not a single entertainment during the tenure of his office. He starved his servants, drank no wine and kept no kitchen. He made his pile by cheating others in different ways. During his term as magistrate the wicked had a field day and the enemies of the king received every protection. In short, he was a very mean person.
But the worst of them all was Corah (Titus Oates). He was the son of a weaver, but the fact of his hatching the Popish Plot raised him in the people's esteem. He posed as the protector of society and the King and verified the plot on oath. His sunken eyes and harsh, loud voice was indicative of his ill-temper and proud nature. Whoever expressed doubt about his witness was dubbed a Catholic and implicated in his plot. He brought about the assassination of Agog for his being on friendly terms with Jebusites.
Misled by Achitophel, Absalom left the court. As a preliminary step he undertook a tour of the country with stately pomp and glamour. He spoke to the people with becoming humility and expressed sorrow at their hard lot and at his inability to help them, because he could not rise against his father who was the cause of their misery. He could offer them only his tears, his only weapon. His humbleness, his winning manners and charming looker impressed everybody, and wherever he went he was hailed as the "savior": This tour was maneuvered by the cunning Achitophel. Its purpose was to form an estimate of people's extent of love and support. He wanted to test the strength of their backing before coming out openly in revolt against the King. So the real purpose of Absalom and Achitophel was cleverly concealed behind a show of love and duty for the King. It was war in the guise of peace.
The mind of the people of Israel (England) was corrupted by means of a number of plausible arguments. They were made to believe that in the final analysis power rests with the people and that they were not bound by the bonds entered into by their ancestors. The kings were their trustees and they held the executive authority in trust for them. They, the kings, are in duty bound to exercise that authority for their good. If that authority is used arbitrarily and wrongly, the people were at liberty to withdraw it. The foolish Israelites were deluded by such reasoning. They did not pause to ponder and realize the fact that sons are certainly bound by the actions of their forefathers, for all mankind has to suffer for the sin of Adam. It followed, therefore, that the contract under which the people transferred power to one individual is as binding on them as on their forbears. The contract is irrevocable. Moreover, who is to examine and decide whether the actions of a king are right or wrong? The crowds are fickle-minded and hotheaded, and hence their thinking and arguing cannot be sound and safe to act upon. No orderly and civilized life would be possible if the right to rebel and dethrone the king is conceded to the people. Even if the king is unjust it is not advisable and desirable to topple an established government, for there may ensue a civil war, then, bringing in its train worse suffering for the people than before. But the misguided Israelites could not think on these lines, thanks to Achitophel and -his cunning.
The revolutionary mania was so widely rampant among the people that many of David's friends deserted his company. Even the few who stood by him even then were regarded as enemies of the people. Among such of his friends, the name of Barzillai (Duke of Ormond) was prominent. He was honorable and advanced in age and had always served his King faithfully. He had also accompanied the King in his exile and shared in his sufferings and sorrows abroad. He was generous of heart and a patron of poets and warriors. He had fathered eight children out of whom six were already dead. The poet is all praise for his eldest son who passed away in the prime of his life.
Next among the King's friends was Zadoc [the Archbishop of Canterbury]. He was modest and of retiring disposition. Then there was Sagan of Jerusalem the Bishop of London. He was the scion of a noble family and was endowed with a hospitable nature after him was John Dolben, the dean of Westminster on the list. He was noted for his fiery oratory. Also included in the friend group were some distinguished expounders of the law. Then there was a group of loyal peers of whom the eminent personalities were those of Adriel, Earl of Mulgrave, Jonathan, Marquis of Halifax, and Hushal, Earl of Rochester. The last of all came the name of Ameil Edward Seymour, the speaker of the House of Commons.
These enumerated friends of David remained loyal him to the end. They watched with anguish the mounting ramp of revolution, realized the dangers inherent in the situation and warned the King. They suggested to him that drastic action was called for, as mild measures would only worsen the situation.
At long last David, who had suffered with patience and forbearance till then, addressed the people with divinely animated voice and was listened to in pin-drop silence. He told them that as king, he was also the father of his people. So far he had been kind and indulgent towards them as a father should be, but how he would fulfil his duty as a king. The people had mistakenly taken his mercy as a sign of fear on his part. They wanted law and justice, so he would now give them what they wanted. He had been a patient man, and they should beware of the fury of a patient man when roused. He would give them justice and nothing but justice as they clamor for. He knew his own rights. He knew that people or the Parliament alone could not choose a successor to the throne as his consent was also necessary. He would not part with his friends simply on the clamor of the mob; they must first prove something against him. He would teach his people to obey him. His victory was certain. The zest and zeal of the people is soon exhausted and their energy dissipates in no time. Then they can be easily subdued. He would wait for his opportunity and then strike with overwhelming force, so that they may be easily conquered.
God listened to David's speech and agreed with it. Law and order was once more established in the country and he ruled in peace for years on end.



Absalom and Achitophel BY JOHN DRYDEN Rajarata University of Sri Lanka -Second Year Students


In pious times, ere priest-craft did begin, 
Before polygamy was made a sin; 
When man, on many, multipli'd his kind, 
Ere one to one was cursedly confin'd: 
When Nature prompted, and no Law deni'd 
Promiscuous use of concubine and bride; 
Then, Israel's monarch, after Heaven's own heart, 
His vigorous warmth did variously impart 
To wives and slaves: and, wide as his command, 
Scatter'd his Maker's image through the land. 
Michal, of royal blood, the crown did wear; 
A soil ungrateful to the tiller's care: 
Not so the rest; for several mothers bore 
To god-like David, several sons before. 
But since like slaves his bed they did ascend, 
No true succession could their seed attend. 
Of all this numerous progeny was none 
So beautiful, so brave, as Absalom: 
Whether, inspir'd by some diviner lust, 
His father got him with a greater gust; 
Or that his conscious destiny made way, 
By manly beauty to imperial sway. 
Early in foreign fields he won renown, 
With kings and states alli'd to Israel's crown: 
In peace the thoughts of war he could remove, 
And seem'd as he were only born for love. 
Whate'er he did, was done with so much ease, 
In him alone, 'twas natural to please: 
His motions all accompani'd with grace; 
And Paradise was open'd in his face. 
With secret joy, indulgent David view'd 
His youthful image in his son renew'd: 
To all his wishes nothing he deni'd; 
And made the charming Annabel his bride. 
What faults he had (for who from faults is free?) 
His father could not, or he would not see. 
Some warm excesses, which the Law forbore, 
Were constru'd youth that purged by boiling o'er: 
And Amnon's murther, by a specious name, 
Was call'd a just revenge for injur'd fame. 
Thus prais'd, and lov'd, the noble youth remain'd, 
While David, undisturb'd, in Sion reign'd. 
But life can never be sincerely blest: 
Heav'n punishes the bad, and proves the best. 
The Jews, a headstrong, moody, murm'ring race, 
As ever tri'd th'extent and stretch of grace; 
God's pamper'd people whom, debauch'd with ease, 
No king could govern, nor no God could please; 
(Gods they had tri'd of every shape and size, 
That god-smiths could produce, or priests devise:) 
These Adam-wits, too fortunately free, 
Began to dream they wanted liberty: 
And when no rule, no precedent, was found 
Of men, by laws less circumscrib'd and bound, 
They led their wild desires to woods and caves, 
And thought that all but savages were slaves. 
They who, when Saul was dead, without a blow, 
Made foolish Ishbosheth the crown forego; 
Who banisht David did from Hebron bring, 
And, with a general shout, proclaim'd him king: 
Those very Jews, who, at their very best, 
Their Humour more than loyalty exprest, 
Now, wonder'd why, so long, they had obey'd 
An idol-monarch which their hands had made: 
Thought they might ruin him they could create; 
Or melt him to that golden calf, a state. 
But these were random bolts: no form'd design, 
Nor interest made the factious crowd to join: 
The sober part of Israel, free from stain, 
Well knew the value of a peaceful reign: 
And, looking backward with a wise afright, 
Saw seams of wounds, dishonest to the sight: 
In contemplation of whose ugly scars, 
They curst the memory of civil wars. 
The moderate sort of men, thus qualifi'd, 
Inclin'd the balance to the better side: 
And, David's mildness manag'd it so well, 
The bad found no occasion to rebel. 
But, when to sin our bias'd nature leans, 
The careful Devil is still at hand with means; 
And providently pimps for ill desires: 
The good old cause reviv'd, a plot requires. 
Plots, true or false, are necessary things, 
To raise up common-wealths, and ruin kings. 

Th' inhabitants of old Jerusalem 
Were Jebusites: the town so call'd from them; 
And theirs the native right— 
But when the chosen people grew more strong, 
The rightful cause at length became the wrong: 
And every loss the men of Jebus bore, 
They still were thought God's enemies the more. 
Thus, worn and weaken'd, well or ill content, 
Submit they must to David's government: 
Impoverish'd and depriv'd of all command, 
Their taxes doubled as they lost their land; 
And, what was harder yet to flesh and blood, 
Their gods disgrac'd, and burnt like common wood. 
This set the heathen priesthood in a flame; 
For priests of all religions are the same: 
Of whatsoe'er descent their godhead be, 
Stock, stone, or other homely pedigree, 
In his defence his servants are as bold, 
As if he had been born of beaten gold. 
The Jewish Rabbins though their Enemies, 
In this conclude them honest men and wise: 
For 'twas their duty, all the learned think, 
T'espouse his cause by whom they eat and drink. 
From hence began that plot, the nation's curse, 
Bad in itself, but represented worse. 
Rais'd in extremes, and in extremes decri'd; 
With oaths affirm'd, with dying vows deni'd. 
Not weigh'd, or winnow'd by the multitude; 
But swallow'd in the mass, unchew'd and crude. 
Some truth there was, but dash'd and brew'd with lies; 
To please the fools, and puzzle all the wise. 
Succeeding times did equal folly call, 
Believing nothing, or believing all. 
Th' Egyptian rites the Jebusites embrac'd; 
Where gods were recommended by their taste. 
Such sav'ry deities must needs be good, 
As serv'd at once for worship and for food. 
By force they could not introduce these gods; 
For ten to one, in former days was odds. 
So fraud was us'd, (the sacrificers' trade,) 
Fools are more hard to conquer than persuade. 
Their busy teachers mingled with the Jews; 
And rak'd, for converts, even the court and stews: 
Which Hebrew priests the more unkindly took, 
Because the fleece accompanies the flock. 
Some thought they God's anointed meant to slay 
By guns, invented since full many a day: 
Our author swears it not; but who can know 
How far the Devil and Jebusites may go? 
This plot, which fail'd for want of common sense, 
Had yet a deep and dangerous consequence: 
For, as when raging fevers boil the blood, 
The standing lake soon floats into a flood; 
And ev'ry hostile humour, which before 
Slept quiet in its channels, bubbles o'er: 
So, several factions from this first ferment, 
Work up to foam, and threat the government. 
Some by their friends, more by themselves thought wise, 
Oppos'd the pow'r, to which they could not rise. 
Some had in courts been great, and thrown from thence, 
Like fiends, were harden'd in impenitence. 
Some by their monarch's fatal mercy grown, 
From pardon'd rebels, kinsmen to the throne; 
Were rais'd in pow'r and public office high; 
Strong bands, if bands ungrateful men could tie. 

Of these the false Achitophel was first: 
A name to all succeeding ages curst. 
For close designs, and crooked counsels fit; 
Sagacious, bold and turbulent of wit: 
Restless, unfixt in principles and place; 
In pow'r unpleas'd, impatient of disgrace. 
A fiery soul, which working out its way, 
Fretted the pigmy-body to decay: 
And o'er inform'd the tenement of clay. 
A daring pilot in extremity; 
Pleas'd with the danger, when the waves went high 
He sought the storms; but for a calm unfit, 
Would steer too nigh the sands, to boast his wit. 
Great wits are sure to madness near alli'd; 
And thin partitions do their bounds divide: 
Else, why should he, with wealth and honour blest, 
Refuse his age the needful hours of rest? 
Punish a body which he could not please; 
Bankrupt of life, yet prodigal of ease? 
And all to leave, what with his toil he won 
To that unfeather'd, two-legg'd thing, a son: 
Got, while his soul did huddled notions try; 
And born a shapeless lump, like anarchy. 
In friendship false, implacable in hate: 
Resolv'd to ruin or to rule the state. 
To compass this, the triple bond he broke; 
The pillars of the public safety shook: 
And fitted Israel for a foreign yoke. 
Then, seiz'd with fear, yet still affecting fame, 
Usurp'd a patriot's all-atoning name. 
So easy still it proves in factious times, 
With public zeal to cancel private crimes: 
How safe is treason, and how sacred ill, 
Where none can sin against the people's will: 
Where crowds can wink; and no offence be known, 
Since in another's guilt they find their own. 
Yet, fame deserv'd, no enemy can grudge; 
The statesman we abhor, but praise the judge. 
In Jewish courts ne'er sat an Abbethdin 
With more discerning eyes, or hands more clean: 
Unbrib'd, unsought, the wretched to redress; 
Swift of dispatch, and easy of access. 
Oh, had he been content to serve the crown, 
With virtues only proper to the gown; 
Or, had the rankness of the soil been freed 
From cockle, that opprest the noble seed: 
David, for him his tuneful harp had strung, 
And heav'n had wanted one immortal song. 
But wild ambition loves to slide, not stand; 
And fortune's ice prefers to virtue's land: 
Achitophel, grown weary to possess 
A lawful fame, and lazy happiness; 
Disdain'd the golden fruit to gather free, 
And lent the crowd his arm to shake the tree. 
Now, manifest of crimes, contriv'd long since, 
He stood at bold defiance with his prince: 
Held up the buckler of the people's cause, 
Against the crown; and skulk'd behind the laws. 
The wish'd occasion of the plot he takes; 
Some circumstances finds, but more he makes. 
By buzzing emissaries, fills the ears 
Of list'ning crowds, with jealousies and fears 
Of arbitrary counsels brought to light, 
And proves the king himself a Jebusite. 
Weak arguments! which yet he knew full well, 
Were strong with people easy to rebel. 
For, govern'd by the moon, the giddy Jews 
Tread the same track when she the prime renews: 
And once in twenty years, their scribes record, 
By natural instinct they change their lord. 
Achitophel still wants a chief, and none 
Was found so fit as warlike Absalom: 
Not, that he wish'd his greatness to create, 
(For politicians neither love nor hate:) 
But, for he knew, his title not allow'd, 
Would keep him still depending on the crowd: 
That kingly pow'r, thus ebbing out, might be 
Drawn to the dregs of a democracy. 
Him he attempts, with studied arts to please, 
And sheds his venom, in such words as these. 

Auspicious Prince! at whose nativity 
Some royal planet rul'd the southern sky; 
Thy longing country's darling and desire; 
Their cloudy pillar, and their guardian fire: 
Their second Moses, whose extended wand 
Divides the seas, and shows the promis'd land: 
Whose dawning day, in very distant age, 
Has exercis'd the sacred prophet's rage: 
The people's pray'r, the glad diviner's theme, 
The young men's vision, and the old men's dream! 
Thee, Saviour, thee, the nation's vows confess; 
And, never satisfi'd with seeing, bless: 
Swift, unbespoken pomps, thy steps proclaim, 
And stammering babes are taught to lisp thy name. 
How long wilt thou the general joy detain; 
Starve, and defraud the people of thy reign? 
Content ingloriously to pass thy days 
Like one of virtue's fools that feeds on praise; 
Till thy fresh glories, which now shine so bright, 
Grow stale and tarnish with our daily sight. 
Believe me, royal youth, thy fruit must be, 
Or gather'd ripe, or rot upon the tree. 
Heav'n has to all allotted, soon or late, 
Some lucky revolution of their fate: 
Whose motions if we watch and guide with skill, 
(For human good depends on human will,) 
Our fortune rolls, as from a smooth descent, 
And, from the first impression, takes the bent: 
But, if unseiz'd, she glides away like wind; 
And leaves repenting folly far behind. 
Now, now she meets you, with a glorious prize, 
And spreads her locks before her as she flies. 
Had thus Old David, from whose loins you spring, 
Not dar'd, when fortune call'd him, to be king. 
At Gath an exile he might still remain; 
And Heaven's anointing oil had been in vain. 
Let his successful youth your hopes engage; 
But shun th'example of declining age: 
Behold him setting in his western skies, 
The shadows lengthening as the vapours rise. 
He is not now, as when on Jordan's sand 
The joyful people throng'd to see him land, 
Cov'ring the beach, and black'ning all the strand: 
But, like the Prince of Angels from his height, 
Comes tumbling downward with diminish'd light: 
Betray'd by one poor plot to public scorn: 
(Our only blessing since his curst return:) 
Those heaps of people which one sheaf did bind, 
Blown off, and scatter'd by a puff of wind. 
What strength can he to your designs oppose, 
Naked of friends and round beset with foes? 
If Pharaoh's doubtful succour he should use, 
A foreign aid would more incense the Jews: 
Proud Egypt would dissembled friendship bring; 
Foment the war, but not support the king: 
Nor would the royal party e'er unite 
With Pharaoh's arms, t'assist the Jebusite; 
Or if they should, their interest soon would break, 
And with such odious aid, make David weak. 
All sorts of men, by my successful arts, 
Abhorring kings, estrange their alter'd hearts 
From David's rule: And 'tis the general Cry, 
Religion, Common-wealth, and Liberty. 
If, you, as champion of the public good, 
Add to their arms a chief of royal blood; 
What may not Israel hope, and what applause 
Might such a general gain by such a cause? 
Not barren praise alone, that gaudy flow'r, 
Fair only to the sight, but solid pow'r: 
And nobler is a limited command, 
Giv'n by the love of all your native land, 
Than a successive title, long, and dark, 
Drawn from the mouldy rolls of Noah's Ark. 

What cannot praise effect in mighty minds, 
When flattery soothes, and when ambition blinds! 
Desire of pow'r, on earth a vicious weed, 
Yet, sprung from high, is of celestial seed: 
In God 'tis glory: And when men aspire, 
'Tis but a spark too much of heavenly fire. 
Th' ambitious youth, too covetous of fame, 
Too full of angel's metal in his frame; 
Unwarily was led from virtue's ways; 
Made drunk with honour, and debauch'd with praise. 
Half loath, and half consenting to the ill, 
(For loyal blood within him struggled still) 
He thus repli'd.—And what pretence have I 
To take up arms for public liberty? 
My Father governs with unquestion'd right; 
The Faith's defender, and mankind's delight: 
Good, gracious, just, observant of the laws; 
And Heav'n by wonders has espous'd his cause. 
Whom has he wrong'd in all his peaceful reign? 
Who sues for justice to his throne in vain? 
What millions has he pardon'd of his foes, 
Whom just revenge did to his wrath expose? 
Mild, easy, humble, studious of our good; 
Inclin'd to mercy, and averse from blood. 
If mildness ill with stubborn Israel suit, 
His crime is God's beloved attribute. 
What could he gain, his people to betray, 
Or change his right, for arbitrary sway? 
Let haughty Pharaoh curse with such a reign, 
His fruitful Nile, and yoke a servile train. 
If David's rule Jerusalem displease, 
The Dog-star heats their brains to this disease. 
Why then should I, encouraging the bad, 
Turn rebel, and run popularly mad? 
Were he a tyrant who, by lawless might, 
Oppress'd the Jews, and rais'd the Jebusite, 
Well might I mourn; but nature's holy bands 
Would curb my spirits, and restrain my hands: 
The people might assert their liberty; 
But what was right in them, were crime in me. 
His favour leaves me nothing to require; 
Prevents my wishes, and out-runs desire. 
What more can I expect while David lives? 
All but his kingly diadem he gives: 
And that: but there he paus'd; then sighing, said, 
Is justly destin'd for a worthier head. 
For when my father from his toils shall rest, 
And late augment the number of the blest: 
His lawful issue shall the throne ascend; 
Or the collat'ral line where that shall end. 
His brother, though oppress'd with vulgar spite, 
Yet dauntless and secure of native right, 
Of every royal virtue stands possess'd; 
Still dear to all the bravest, and the best. 
His courage foes, his friends his truth proclaim; 
His loyalty the king, the world his fame. 
His mercy ev'n th'offending crowd will find: 
For sure he comes of a forgiving kind. 
Why should I then repine at Heaven's decree; 
Which gives me no pretence to royalty? 
Yet oh that Fate, propitiously inclin'd, 
Had rais'd my birth, or had debas'd my mind; 
To my large soul, not all her treasure lent, 
And then betray'd it to a mean descent. 
I find, I find my mounting spirits bold, 
And David's part disdains my mother's mold. 
Why am I scanted by a niggard-birth? 
My soul disclaims the kindred of her earth: 
And made for empire, whispers me within; 
Desire of greatness is a god-like sin. 

Him staggering so when Hell's dire agent found, 
While fainting virtue scarce maintain'd her ground, 
He pours fresh forces in, and thus replies: 

Th'eternal God, supremely good and wise, 
Imparts not these prodigious gifts in vain; 
What wonders are reserv'd to bless your reign? 
Against your will your arguments have shown, 
Such virtue's only giv'n to guide a throne. 
Not that your father's mildness I contemn; 
But manly force becomes the diadem. 
'Tis true, he grants the people all they crave; 
And more perhaps than subjects ought to have: 
For lavish grants suppose a monarch tame, 
And more his goodness than his wit proclaim. 
But when should people strive their bonds to break, 
If not when kings are negligent or weak? 
Let him give on till he can give no more, 
The thrifty Sanhedrin shall keep him poor: 
And every shekel which he can receive, 
Shall cost a limb of his prerogative. 
To ply him with new plots, shall be my care; 
Or plunge him deep in some expensive war; 
Which, when his treasure can no more supply, 
He must, with the remains of kingship, buy. 
His faithful friends, our jealousies and fears 
Call Jebusites; and Pharaoh's pensioners: 
Whom, when our fury from his aid has torn, 
He shall be naked left to public scorn. 
The next successor, whom I fear and hate, 
My arts have made obnoxious to the state; 
Turn'd all his virtues to his overthrow, 
And gain'd our elders to pronounce a foe. 
His right, for sums of necessary gold, 
Shall first be pawn'd, and afterwards be sold: 
Till time shall ever-wanting David draw, 
To pass your doubtful title into law: 
If not; the people have a right supreme 
To make their kings; for kings are made for them. 
All empire is no more than pow'r in trust: 
Which when resum'd, can be no longer just. 
Succession, for the general good design'd, 
In its own wrong a nation cannot bind: 
If altering that, the people can relieve, 
Better one suffer, than a nation grieve. 
The Jews well know their pow'r: ere Saul they chose, 
God was their king, and God they durst depose. 
Urge now your piety, your filial name, 
A father's right, and fear of future fame; 
The public good, the universal call, 
To which even Heav'n submitted, answers all. 
Nor let his love enchant your generous mind; 
'Tis Nature's trick to propagate her kind. 
Our fond begetters, who would never die, 
Love but themselves in their posterity. 
Or let his kindness by th'effects be tri'd, 
Or let him lay his vain pretence aside. 
God said he lov'd your father; could he bring 
A better proof, than to anoint him king? 
It surely show'd he lov'd the shepherd well, 
Who gave so fair a flock as Israel. 
Would David have you thought his darling son? 
What means he then, to alienate the crown? 
The name of godly he may blush to bear: 
'Tis after God's own heart to cheat his heir. 
He to his brother gives supreme command; 
To you a legacy of barren land: 
Perhaps th'old harp, on which he thrums his lays: 
Or some dull Hebrew ballad in your praise. 
Then the next heir, a prince, severe and wise 
Already looks on you with jealous eyes; 
Sees through the thin disguises of your arts, 
And marks your progress in the people's hearts. 
Though now his mighty soul in grief contains, 
He meditates revenge who least complains; 
And like a lion, slumb'ring in the way, 
Or sleep-dissembling, while he waits his prey, 
His fearless foes within his distance draws; 
Constrains his roaring and contracts his paws: 
Till at the last, his time for fury found, 
He shoots with sudden vengeance from the ground: 
The prostrate vulgar, passes o'er, and spares; 
But with a lordly rage, his hunters tears. 
Your case no tame expedients will afford; 
Resolve on death, or conquest by the sword, 
Which for no less a stake than life, you draw; 
And self-defence is Nature's eldest law. 
Leave the warm people no considering time; 
For then rebellion may be thought a crime. 
Prevail yourself of what occasion gives, 
But try your title while your father lives: 
And that your arms may have a fair pretence, 
Proclaim, you take them in the king's defence: 
Whose sacred life each minute would expose 
To plots from seeming friends and secret foes. 
And who can sound the depth of David's soul? 
Perhaps his fear, his kindness may control. 
He fears his brother, though he loves his son, 
For plighted vows too late to be undone. 
If so, by force he wishes to be gain'd; 
Like women's lechery, to seem constrain'd: 
Doubt not; but when he most affects the frown, 
Commit a pleasing rape upon the crown. 
Secure his person to secure your cause; 
They who possess the prince, possess the laws. 

He said, and this advice above the rest 
With Absalom's mild nature suited best; 
Unblam'd of life, (ambition set aside,) 
Not stain'd with cruelty, nor puff'd with pride. 
How happy had he been, if destiny 
Had higher plac'd his birth, or not so high! 
His kingly virtues might have claim'd a throne; 
And blest all other countries but his own: 
But charming greatness since so few refuse, 
'Tis juster to lament him, than accuse. 
Strong were his hopes a rival to remove, 
With blandishments to gain the public love; 
To head the faction while their zeal was hot, 
And popularly prosecute the plot. 
To farther this Achitophel unites 
The malcontents of all the Israelites: 
Whose differing parties he could wisely join, 
For several ends, to serve the same design. 
The best, and of the princes some were such, 
Who thought the pow'r of monarchy too much: 
Mistaken men, and patriots in their hearts; 
Not wicked, but seduc'd by impious arts. 
By these the springs of property were bent, 
And wound so high, they crack'd the government. 
The next for interest sought t'embroil the state, 
To sell their duty at a dearer rate; 
And make their Jewish markets of the throne; 
Pretending public good, to serve their own. 
Others thought kings an useless heavy load, 
Who cost too much, and did too little good. 
These were for laying honest David by, 
On principles of pure good husbandry. 
With them join'd all th'haranguers of the throng, 
That thought to get preferment by the tongue. 
Who follow next, a double danger bring, 
Not only hating David, but the king; 
The Solymaean rout; well vers'd of old 
In godly faction, and in treason bold; 
Cow'ring and quaking at a conqu'ror's sword, 
But lofty to a lawful prince restor'd; 
Saw with disdain an Ethnic plot begun, 
And scorn'd by Jebusites to be out-done. 
Hot Levites headed these; who pull'd before 
From th'Ark, which in the Judges' days they bore, 
Resum'd their Cant, and with a zealous cry, 
Pursu'd their old belov'd Theocracy. 
Where Sanhedrin and Priest enslav'd the nation, 
And justifi'd their spoils by inspiration: 
For who so fit for reign as Aaron's race, 
If once dominion they could found in Grace? 
These led the pack; though not of surest scent, 
Yet deepest mouth'd against the government. 
A numerous host of dreaming saints succeed; 
Of the true old enthusiastic breed: 
'Gainst form and order they their pow'r employ; 
Nothing to build, and all things to destroy. 
But far more numerous was the herd of such, 
Who think too little, and who talk too much. 
These, out of mere instinct, they knew not why, 
Ador'd their father's God, and property: 
And by the same blind benefit of fate, 
The Devil and the Jebusite did hate: 
Born to be saved even in their own despite; 
Because they could not help believing right. 
Such were the tools; but a whole Hydra more 
Remains, of sprouting heads too long, to score. 
Some of their chiefs were princes of the land: 
In the first rank of these did Zimri stand: 
A man so various, that he seem'd to be 
Not one, but all Mankind's Epitome. 
Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong; 
Was everything by starts, and nothing long: 
But in the course of one revolving moon, 
Was chemist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon: 
Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking; 
Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking. 
Blest madman, who could every hour employ, 
With something new to wish, or to enjoy! 
Railing and praising were his usual themes; 
And both (to show his judgment) in extremes: 
So over violent, or over civil, 
That every man, with him, was god or devil. 
In squandering wealth was his peculiar art: 
Nothing went unrewarded, but desert. 
Beggar'd by fools, whom still he found too late: 
He had his jest, and they had his estate. 
He laugh'd himself from court; then sought relief 
By forming parties, but could ne'er be chief: 
For, spite of him, the weight of business fell 
On Absalom and wise Achitophel: 
Thus, wicked but in will, of means bereft, 
He left not faction, but of that was left. 

Titles and names 'twere tedious to rehearse 
Of lords, below the dignity of verse. 
Wits, warriors, commonwealths-men, were the best: 
Kind husbands and mere nobles all the rest. 
And, therefore in the name of dullness, be 
The well-hung Balaam and cold Caleb free. 
And canting Nadab let oblivion damn, 
Who made new porridge for the Paschal Lamb. 
Let friendship's holy band some names assure: 
Some their own worth, and some let scorn secure. 
Nor shall the rascal rabble here have place, 
Whom kings no titles gave, and God no grace: 
Not bull-faced Jonas, who could statutes draw 
To mean rebellion, and make treason law. 
But he, though bad, is follow'd by a worse, 
The wretch, who Heav'n's Anointed dar'd to curse. 
Shimei, whose youth did early promise bring 
Of zeal to God, and hatred to his king; 
Did wisely from expensive sins refrain, 
And never broke the Sabbath, but for gain: 
Nor ever was he known an oath to vent, 
Or curse, unless against the government. 
Thus, heaping wealth, by the most ready way 
Among the Jews, which was to cheat and pray; 
The city, to reward his pious hate 
Against his master, chose him magistrate: 
His hand a vare of justice did uphold; 
His neck was loaded with a chain of gold. 
During his office, treason was no crime. 
The sons of Belial had a glorious time: 
For Shimei, though not prodigal of pelf, 
Yet lov'd his wicked neighbour as himself: 
When two or three were gather'd to declaim 
Against the monarch of Jerusalem, 
Shimei was always in the midst of them. 
And, if they curst the king when he was by, 
Would rather curse, than break good company. 
If any durst his factious friends accuse, 
He pack'd a jury of dissenting Jews: 
Whose fellow-feeling, in the godly cause, 
Would free the suff'ring saint from human laws. 
For laws are only made to punish those 
Who serve the king, and to protect his foes. 
If any leisure time he had from pow'r, 
(Because 'tis sin to mis-employ an hour;) 
His bus'ness was, by writing, to persuade, 
That kings were useless, and a clog to trade: 
And, that his noble style he might refine, 
No Rechabite more shunn'd the fumes of wine. 
Chaste were his cellars; and his shrieval board 
The grossness of a city feast abhorr'd: 
His cooks, with long disuse, their trade forgot; 
Cool was his kitchen, though his brains were hot. 
Such frugal virtue malice may accuse; 
But sure 'twas necessary to the Jews: 
For towns once burnt, such magistrates require 
As dare not tempt God's providence by fire. 
With spiritual food he fed his servants well, 
But free from flesh, that made the Jews rebel: 
And Moses' laws he held in more account 
For forty days of fasting in the mount. 
To speak the rest, who better are forgot, 
Would tire a well-breath'd witness of the plot: 
Yet, Corah, thou shalt from oblivion pass; 
Erect thyself thou monumental brass: 
High as the serpent of thy metal made, 
While nations stand secure beneath thy shade. 
What though his birth were base, yet comets rise 
From earthy vapours e'er they shine in skies. 
Prodigious actions may as well be done 
By weaver's issue, as by prince's son. 
This arch-attestor, for the public good, 
By that one deed ennobles all his blood. 
Who ever ask'd the witnesses' high race, 
Whose oath with martyrdom did Stephen grace? 
Ours was a Levite, and as times went then, 
His tribe were God-almighty's gentlemen. 
Sunk were his eyes, his voice was harsh and loud, 
Sure signs he neither choleric was, nor proud: 
His long chin prov'd his wit; his saint-like grace 
A church vermilion, and a Moses' face. 
His memory, miraculously great, 
Could plots exceeding man's belief, repeat; 
Which therefore cannot be accounted lies, 
For human wit could never such devise. 
Some future truths are mingled in his book; 
But, where the witness fail'd, the Prophet spoke: 
Some things like visionary flights appear; 
The spirit caught him up, the Lord knows where: 
And gave him his rabbinical degree, 
Unknown to foreign university. 
His judgment yet his mem'ry did excel: 
Which piec'd his wondrous evidence so well: 
And suited to the temper of the times; 
Then groaning under Jebusitic crimes. 
Let Israel's foes suspect his Heav'nly call, 
And rashly judge his writ apocryphal; 
Our laws for such affronts have forfeits made: 
He takes his life, who takes away his trade. 
Were I myself in witness Corah's place, 
The wretch who did me such a dire disgrace, 
Should whet my memory, though once forgot, 
To make him an appendix of my plot. 
His zeal to Heav'n made him his prince despise, 
And load his person with indignities: 
But Zeal peculiar privilege affords, 
Indulging latitude to deeds and words. 
And Corah might for Agag's murther call, 
In terms as coarse as Samuel us'd to Saul. 
What others in his evidence did join, 
(The best that could be had for love or coin,) 
In Corah's own predicament will fall: 
For Witness is a common name to all. 

Surrounded thus with friends of every sort, 
Deluded Absalom forsakes the court: 
Impatient of high hopes, urg'd with renown, 
And fir'd with near possession of a crown: 
Th' admiring crowd are dazzled with surprise, 
And on his goodly person feed their eyes: 
His joy conceal'd, he sets himself to show; 
On each side bowing popularly low: 
His looks, his gestures, and his words he frames, 
And with familiar ease repeats their names. 
Thus, form'd by Nature, furnish'd out with arts, 
He glides unfelt into their secret hearts: 
Then, with a kind compassionating look, 
And sighs, bespeaking pity e'er he spoke: 
Few words he said; but easy those and fit: 
More slow than Hybla drops, and far more sweet. 

I mourn, my country-men, your lost estate; 
Though far unable to prevent your fate: 
Behold a banish'd man, for your dear cause 
Expos'd a prey to arbitrary laws! 
Yet oh! that I alone could be undone, 
Cut off from empire, and no more a son! 
Now all your liberties a spoil are made; 
Egypt and Tyrus intercept your trade, 
And Jebusites your sacred rites invade. 
My father, whom with reverence yet I name, 
Charm'd into ease, is careless of his fame: 
And, brib'd with petty sums of foreign gold, 
Is grown in Bathsheba's embraces old: 
Exalts his enemies, his friends destroys: 
And all his pow'r against himself employs. 
He gives, and let him give my right away: 
But why should he his own, and yours betray? 
He, only he can make the nation bleed, 
And he alone from my revenge is freed. 
Take then my tears (with that he wip'd his eyes) 
'Tis all the aid my present pow'r supplies: 
No court-informer can these arms accuse; 
These arms may sons against their fathers use; 
And, 'tis my wish, the next successor's reign 
May make no other Israelite complain. 

Youth, beauty, graceful action, seldom fail: 
But common interest always will prevail: 
And pity never ceases to be shown 
To him, who makes the people's wrongs his own. 
The crowd, (that still believe their kings oppress,) 
With lifted hands their young Messiah bless: 
Who now begins his progress to ordain; 
With chariots, horsemen, and a num'rous train: 
From East to West his glories he displays: 
And, like the sun, the Promis'd Land surveys. 
Fame runs before him, as the Morning-Star; 
And shouts of joy salute him from afar: 
Each house receives him as a guardian God; 
And consecrates the place of his abode: 
But hospitable treats did most commend 
Wise Issachar, his wealthy western friend. 
This moving court, that caught the people's eyes, 
And seem'd but pomp, did other ends disguise: 
Achitophel had form'd it, with intent 
To sound the depths, and fathom where it went, 
The people's hearts; distinguish friends from foes; 
And try their strength, before they came to blows. 
Yet all was colour'd with a smooth pretence 
Of specious love, and duty to their prince. 
Religion, and redress of grievances, 
Two names, that always cheat and always please, 
Are often urg'd; and good King David's life 
Endanger'd by a brother and a wife. 
Thus, in a pageant show, a plot is made; 
And peace itself is war in masquerade. 
Oh foolish Israel! never warn'd by ill: 
Still the same bait, and circumvented still! 
Did ever men forsake their present ease, 
In midst of health imagine a disease; 
Take pains contingent mischiefs to foresee, 
Make heirs for monarchs, and for God decree? 
What shall we think! Can people give away 
Both for themselves and sons, their native sway? 
Then they are left defenceless to the sword 
Of each unbounded arbitrary lord: 
And laws are vain, by which we right enjoy, 
If kings unquestion'd can those laws destroy. 
Yet, if the crowd be judge of fit and just, 
And kings are only officers in trust, 
Then this resuming cov'nant was declar'd 
When Kings were made, or is for ever bar'd: 
If those who gave the sceptre could not tie 
By their own deed their own posterity, 
How then could Adam bind his future race? 
How could his forfeit on mankind take place? 
Or how could heavenly justice damn us all, 
Who ne'er consented to our father's fall? 
Then kings are slaves to those whom they command, 
And tenants to their people's pleasure stand. 
Add, that the pow'r for property allow'd, 
Is mischievously seated in the crowd: 
For who can be secure of private right, 
If sovereign sway may be dissolv'd by might? 
Nor is the people's judgment always true: 
The most may err as grossly as the few. 
And faultless kings run down, by common cry, 
For vice, oppression and for tyranny. 
What standard is there in a fickle rout, 
Which, flowing to the mark, runs faster out? 
Nor only crowds, but Sanhedrins may be 
Infected with this public lunacy: 
And share the madness of rebellious times, 
To murther monarchs for imagin'd crimes. 
If they may give and take whene'er they please, 
Not kings alone, (the godhead's images,) 
But government itself at length must fall 
To nature's state, where all have right to all. 
Yet, grant our lords the people kings can make, 
What prudent men a settled throne would shake? 
For whatsoe'er their sufferings were before, 
That change they covet makes them suffer more. 
All other errors but disturb a state; 
But innovation is the blow of fate. 
If ancient fabrics nod, and threat to fall, 
To patch the flaws, and buttress up the wall, 
Thus far 'tis duty; but here fix the mark: 
For all beyond it is to touch our Ark. 
To change foundations, cast the frame anew, 
Is work for rebels who base ends pursue: 
At once divine and human laws control; 
And mend the parts by ruin of the whole. 
The tamp'ring world is subject to this curse, 
To physic their disease into a worse. 

Now what relief can righteous David bring? 
How fatal 'tis to be too good a king! 
Friends he has few, so high the madness grows; 
Who dare be such, must be the people's foes: 
Yet some there were, ev'n in the worst of days; 
Some let me name, and naming is to praise. 

In this short file Barzillai first appears; 
Barzillai crown'd with honour and with years: 
Long since, the rising rebels he withstood 
In regions waste, beyond the Jordan's flood: 
Unfortunately brave to buoy the state; 
But sinking underneath his master's fate: 
In exile with his god-like prince he mourn'd: 
For him he suffer'd, and with him return'd. 
The court he practis'd, not the courtier's art: 
Large was his wealth, but larger was his heart: 
Which well the noblest objects knew to choose, 
The fighting warrior, and recording Muse. 
His bed could once a fruitful issue boast: 
Now more than half a father's name is lost. 
His eldest hope, with every grace adorn'd, 
By me (so Heav'n will have it) always mourn'd, 
And always honour'd, snatch'd in manhood's prime 
B' unequal Fates, and Providence's crime: 
Yet not before the goal of honour won, 
All parts fulfill'd, of subject and of son; 
Swift was the race, but short the time to run. 
Oh narrow circle, but of pow'r divine, 
Scanted in space, but perfect in thy line! 
By sea, by land, thy matchless worth was known; 
Arms thy delight, and war was all thy own: 
Thy force infus'd, the fainting Tyrians propp'd: 
And haughty Pharaoh found his fortune stopp'd. 
Oh ancient honour, Oh unconquer'd Hand, 
Whom foes unpunish'd never could withstand! 
But Israel was unworthy of thy name: 
Short is the date of all immoderate fame. 
It looks as Heav'n our ruin had design'd, 
And durst not trust thy fortune and thy mind. 
Now, free from earth, thy disencumber'd Soul 
Mounts up, and leaves behind the clouds and starry pole: 
From thence thy kindred legions may'st thou bring, 
To aid the Guardian Angel of thy king. 
Here stop my Muse, here cease thy painful flight; 
No pinions can pursue immortal height: 
Tell good Barzillai thou canst sing no more, 
And tell thy soul she should have fled before; 
Or fled she with his life, and left this verse 
To hang on her departed patron's hearse? 
Now take thy steepy flight from Heav'n, and see 
If thou canst find on earth another he; 
Another he would be too hard to find, 
See then whom thou canst see not far behind. 
Zadoc the priest whom, shunning, pow'r and place, 
His lowly mind advanc'd to David's grace: 
With him the Sagan of Jerusalem, 
Of hospitable soul and noble stem; 
Him of the western dome, whose weighty sense 
Flows in fit words and heavenly eloquence. 
The Prophet's sons by such example led, 
To learning and to loyalty were bred: 
For colleges on bounteous kings depend, 
And never rebel was to arts a friend. 
To these succeed the pillars of the laws, 
Who best could plead, and best can judge a cause. 
Next them a train of loyal peers ascend: 
Sharp judging Adriel, the Muse's friend, 
Himself a Muse:—in Sanhedrin's debate 
True to his prince; but not a slave of state. 
Whom David's love with honours did adorn, 
That from his disobedient son were torn. 
Jotham of piercing wit and pregnant thought, 
Endow'd by Nature, and by learning taught 
To move assemblies, who but only tri'd 
The worse awhile, then chose the better side; 
Nor chose alone, but turn'd the balance too; 
So much the weight of one brave man can do. 
Hushai, the friend of David in distress, 
In public storms of manly steadfastness; 
By foreign treaties he inform'd his youth; 
And join'd experience to his native truth. 
His frugal care suppli'd the wanting throne; 
Frugal for that, but bounteous of his own: 
'Tis easy conduct when exchequers flow; 
But hard the task to manage well the low: 
For sovereign power is too depress'd or high, 
When kings are forc'd to sell, or crowds to buy. 
Indulge one labour more, my weary Muse, 
For Amiel, who can Amiel's praise refuse? 
Of ancient race by birth, but nobler yet 
In his own worth, and without title great: 
The Sanhedrin long time as chief he rul'd, 
Their reason guided, and their passion cool'd; 
So dext'rous was he in the crown's defence, 
So form'd to speak a loyal nation's sense, 
That as their band was Israel's tribes in small, 
So fit was he to represent them all. 
Now rasher charioteers the seat ascend, 
Whose loose careers his steady skill commend: 
They, like th'unequal ruler of the day, 
Misguide the seasons and mistake the way; 
While he withdrawn at their mad labour smiles, 
And safe enjoys the sabbath of his toils. 

These were the chief; a small but faithful band 
Of worthies, in the breach who dar'd to stand, 
And tempt th'united fury of the land. 
With grief they view'd such powerful engines bent, 
To batter down the lawful government. 
A numerous faction with pretended frights, 
In Sanhedrins to plume the regal rights. 
The true successor from the court remov'd: 
The plot, by hireling witnesses, improv'd. 
These ills they saw, and as their duty bound, 
They show'd the king the danger of the wound: 
That no concessions from the throne would please; 
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 Heav'n inspir'd, 
The god-like David spoke; and awful fear 
His train their Maker in their Master hear. 

Thus long have I by native mercy sway'd, 
My wrongs dissembl'd, 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 shew I am not good by force. 
Those heap'd affronts that haughty subjects bring, 
Are burdens 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 Sampson 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 heights his frame could bear: 
Had God ordain'd his fate for empire born, 
He would have giv'n 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, e'er he lost his place, 
Was never thought endued with so much grace. 
Good heav'ns, how faction can a patriot paint! 
My rebel ever proves my people's saint; 
Would they impose an heir upon the throne? 
Let Sanhedrins 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 depose; 
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 pow'r away. 
From plots and treasons Heav'n 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 pow'r control, 
Such votes as make a part exceed the whole: 
No groundless clamours shall my friends remove, 
Nor crowds have pow'r to punish ere they prove: 
For gods, and god-like kings their care express, 
Still to defend their servants in distress. 
Oh that my pow'r to saving were confin'd: 
Why am I forc'd, like Heav'n, 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 terror 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 the Belzebub will fight; 
Thus on my foes, my foes shall do me right: 

Nor doubt th'event: for factious crowds engage 
In their first onset, all their brutal rage; 
Then, let 'em take an unresisted course: 
Retire and traverse, and delude their force: 
But when they stand all breathless, urge the fight, 
And rise upon 'em with redoubled might: 
For lawful pow'r is still superior found, 
When long driv'n 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 god-like David was restor'd, 
And willing nations knew their lawful lord. 


Absalom and Achitophel
In pious times, ere priest-craft did begin, 
Before polygamy was made a sin; 
When man, on many, multipli'd his kind, 
Ere one to one was cursedly confin'd: 
When Nature prompted, and no Law deni'd 
Promiscuous use of concubine and bride; 
Then, Israel's monarch, after Heaven's own heart, 
His vigorous warmth did variously impart 
To wives and slaves: and, wide as his command, 
Scatter'd his Maker's image through the land. 
Michal, of royal blood, the crown did wear; 
A soil ungrateful to the tiller's care: 
Not so the rest; for several mothers bore 
To god-like David, several sons before. 
But since like slaves his bed they did ascend, 
No true succession could their seed attend. 
Of all this numerous progeny was none 
So beautiful, so brave, as Absalom: 
Whether, inspir'd by some diviner lust, 
His father got him with a greater gust; 
Or that his conscious destiny made way, 
By manly beauty to imperial sway. 
Early in foreign fields he won renown, 
With kings and states alli'd to Israel's crown: 
In peace the thoughts of war he could remove, 
And seem'd as he were only born for love. 
Whate'er he did, was done with so much ease, 
In him alone, 'twas natural to please: 
His motions all accompani'd with grace; 
And Paradise was open'd in his face. 
With secret joy, indulgent David view'd 
His youthful image in his son renew'd: 
To all his wishes nothing he deni'd; 
And made the charming Annabel his bride. 
What faults he had (for who from faults is free?) 
His father could not, or he would not see. 
Some warm excesses, which the Law forbore, 
Were constru'd youth that purged by boiling o'er: 
And Amnon's murther, by a specious name, 
Was call'd a just revenge for injur'd fame. 
Thus prais'd, and lov'd, the noble youth remain'd, 
While David, undisturb'd, in Sion reign'd. 
But life can never be sincerely blest: 
Heav'n punishes the bad, and proves the best. 
The Jews, a headstrong, moody, murm'ring race, 
As ever tri'd th'extent and stretch of grace; 
God's pamper'd people whom, debauch'd with ease, 
No king could govern, nor no God could please; 
(Gods they had tri'd of every shape and size, 
That god-smiths could produce, or priests devise:) 
These Adam-wits, too fortunately free, 
Began to dream they wanted liberty: 
And when no rule, no precedent, was found 
Of men, by laws less circumscrib'd and bound, 
They led their wild desires to woods and caves, 
And thought that all but savages were slaves. 
They who, when Saul was dead, without a blow, 
Made foolish Ishbosheth the crown forego; 
Who banisht David did from Hebron bring, 
And, with a general shout, proclaim'd him king: 
Those very Jews, who, at their very best, 
Their Humour more than loyalty exprest, 
Now, wonder'd why, so long, they had obey'd 
An idol-monarch which their hands had made: 
Thought they might ruin him they could create; 
Or melt him to that golden calf, a state. 
But these were random bolts: no form'd design, 
Nor interest made the factious crowd to join: 
The sober part of Israel, free from stain, 
Well knew the value of a peaceful reign: 
And, looking backward with a wise afright, 
Saw seams of wounds, dishonest to the sight: 
In contemplation of whose ugly scars, 
They curst the memory of civil wars. 
The moderate sort of men, thus qualifi'd, 
Inclin'd the balance to the better side: 
And, David's mildness manag'd it so well, 
The bad found no occasion to rebel. 
But, when to sin our bias'd nature leans, 
The careful Devil is still at hand with means; 
And providently pimps for ill desires: 
The good old cause reviv'd, a plot requires. 
Plots, true or false, are necessary things, 
To raise up common-wealths, and ruin kings. 

Th' inhabitants of old Jerusalem 
Were Jebusites: the town so call'd from them; 
And theirs the native right— 
But when the chosen people grew more strong, 
The rightful cause at length became the wrong: 
And every loss the men of Jebus bore, 
They still were thought God's enemies the more. 
Thus, worn and weaken'd, well or ill content, 
Submit they must to David's government: 
Impoverish'd and depriv'd of all command, 
Their taxes doubled as they lost their land; 
And, what was harder yet to flesh and blood, 
Their gods disgrac'd, and burnt like common wood. 
This set the heathen priesthood in a flame; 
For priests of all religions are the same: 
Of whatsoe'er descent their godhead be, 
Stock, stone, or other homely pedigree, 
In his defence his servants are as bold, 
As if he had been born of beaten gold. 
The Jewish Rabbins though their Enemies, 
In this conclude them honest men and wise: 
For 'twas their duty, all the learned think, 
T'espouse his cause by whom they eat and drink. 
From hence began that plot, the nation's curse, 
Bad in itself, but represented worse. 
Rais'd in extremes, and in extremes decri'd; 
With oaths affirm'd, with dying vows deni'd. 
Not weigh'd, or winnow'd by the multitude; 
But swallow'd in the mass, unchew'd and crude. 
Some truth there was, but dash'd and brew'd with lies; 
To please the fools, and puzzle all the wise. 
Succeeding times did equal folly call, 
Believing nothing, or believing all. 
Th' Egyptian rites the Jebusites embrac'd; 
Where gods were recommended by their taste. 
Such sav'ry deities must needs be good, 
As serv'd at once for worship and for food. 
By force they could not introduce these gods; 
For ten to one, in former days was odds. 
So fraud was us'd, (the sacrificers' trade,) 
Fools are more hard to conquer than persuade. 
Their busy teachers mingled with the Jews; 
And rak'd, for converts, even the court and stews: 
Which Hebrew priests the more unkindly took, 
Because the fleece accompanies the flock. 
Some thought they God's anointed meant to slay 
By guns, invented since full many a day: 
Our author swears it not; but who can know 
How far the Devil and Jebusites may go? 
This plot, which fail'd for want of common sense, 
Had yet a deep and dangerous consequence: 
For, as when raging fevers boil the blood, 
The standing lake soon floats into a flood; 
And ev'ry hostile humour, which before 
Slept quiet in its channels, bubbles o'er: 
So, several factions from this first ferment, 
Work up to foam, and threat the government. 
Some by their friends, more by themselves thought wise, 
Oppos'd the pow'r, to which they could not rise. 
Some had in courts been great, and thrown from thence, 
Like fiends, were harden'd in impenitence. 
Some by their monarch's fatal mercy grown, 
From pardon'd rebels, kinsmen to the throne; 
Were rais'd in pow'r and public office high; 
Strong bands, if bands ungrateful men could tie. 

Of these the false Achitophel was first: 
A name to all succeeding ages curst. 
For close designs, and crooked counsels fit; 
Sagacious, bold and turbulent of wit: 
Restless, unfixt in principles and place; 
In pow'r unpleas'd, impatient of disgrace. 
A fiery soul, which working out its way, 
Fretted the pigmy-body to decay: 
And o'er inform'd the tenement of clay. 
A daring pilot in extremity; 
Pleas'd with the danger, when the waves went high 
He sought the storms; but for a calm unfit, 
Would steer too nigh the sands, to boast his wit. 
Great wits are sure to madness near alli'd; 
And thin partitions do their bounds divide: 
Else, why should he, with wealth and honour blest, 
Refuse his age the needful hours of rest? 
Punish a body which he could not please; 
Bankrupt of life, yet prodigal of ease? 
And all to leave, what with his toil he won 
To that unfeather'd, two-legg'd thing, a son: 
Got, while his soul did huddled notions try; 
And born a shapeless lump, like anarchy. 
In friendship false, implacable in hate: 
Resolv'd to ruin or to rule the state. 
To compass this, the triple bond he broke; 
The pillars of the public safety shook: 
And fitted Israel for a foreign yoke. 
Then, seiz'd with fear, yet still affecting fame, 
Usurp'd a patriot's all-atoning name. 
So easy still it proves in factious times, 
With public zeal to cancel private crimes: 
How safe is treason, and how sacred ill, 
Where none can sin against the people's will: 
Where crowds can wink; and no offence be known, 
Since in another's guilt they find their own. 
Yet, fame deserv'd, no enemy can grudge; 
The statesman we abhor, but praise the judge. 
In Jewish courts ne'er sat an Abbethdin 
With more discerning eyes, or hands more clean: 
Unbrib'd, unsought, the wretched to redress; 
Swift of dispatch, and easy of access. 
Oh, had he been content to serve the crown, 
With virtues only proper to the gown; 
Or, had the rankness of the soil been freed 
From cockle, that opprest the noble seed: 
David, for him his tuneful harp had strung, 
And heav'n had wanted one immortal song. 
But wild ambition loves to slide, not stand; 
And fortune's ice prefers to virtue's land: 
Achitophel, grown weary to possess 
A lawful fame, and lazy happiness; 
Disdain'd the golden fruit to gather free, 
And lent the crowd his arm to shake the tree. 
Now, manifest of crimes, contriv'd long since, 
He stood at bold defiance with his prince: 
Held up the buckler of the people's cause, 
Against the crown; and skulk'd behind the laws. 
The wish'd occasion of the plot he takes; 
Some circumstances finds, but more he makes. 
By buzzing emissaries, fills the ears 
Of list'ning crowds, with jealousies and fears 
Of arbitrary counsels brought to light, 
And proves the king himself a Jebusite. 
Weak arguments! which yet he knew full well, 
Were strong with people easy to rebel. 
For, govern'd by the moon, the giddy Jews 
Tread the same track when she the prime renews: 
And once in twenty years, their scribes record, 
By natural instinct they change their lord. 
Achitophel still wants a chief, and none 
Was found so fit as warlike Absalom: 
Not, that he wish'd his greatness to create, 
(For politicians neither love nor hate:) 
But, for he knew, his title not allow'd, 
Would keep him still depending on the crowd: 
That kingly pow'r, thus ebbing out, might be 
Drawn to the dregs of a democracy. 
Him he attempts, with studied arts to please, 
And sheds his venom, in such words as these. 

Auspicious Prince! at whose nativity 
Some royal planet rul'd the southern sky; 
Thy longing country's darling and desire; 
Their cloudy pillar, and their guardian fire: 
Their second Moses, whose extended wand 
Divides the seas, and shows the promis'd land: 
Whose dawning day, in very distant age, 
Has exercis'd the sacred prophet's rage: 
The people's pray'r, the glad diviner's theme, 
The young men's vision, and the old men's dream! 
Thee, Saviour, thee, the nation's vows confess; 
And, never satisfi'd with seeing, bless: 
Swift, unbespoken pomps, thy steps proclaim, 
And stammering babes are taught to lisp thy name. 
How long wilt thou the general joy detain; 
Starve, and defraud the people of thy reign? 
Content ingloriously to pass thy days 
Like one of virtue's fools that feeds on praise; 
Till thy fresh glories, which now shine so bright, 
Grow stale and tarnish with our daily sight. 
Believe me, royal youth, thy fruit must be, 
Or gather'd ripe, or rot upon the tree. 
Heav'n has to all allotted, soon or late, 
Some lucky revolution of their fate: 
Whose motions if we watch and guide with skill, 
(For human good depends on human will,) 
Our fortune rolls, as from a smooth descent, 
And, from the first impression, takes the bent: 
But, if unseiz'd, she glides away like wind; 
And leaves repenting folly far behind. 
Now, now she meets you, with a glorious prize, 
And spreads her locks before her as she flies. 
Had thus Old David, from whose loins you spring, 
Not dar'd, when fortune call'd him, to be king. 
At Gath an exile he might still remain; 
And Heaven's anointing oil had been in vain. 
Let his successful youth your hopes engage; 
But shun th'example of declining age: 
Behold him setting in his western skies, 
The shadows lengthening as the vapours rise. 
He is not now, as when on Jordan's sand 
The joyful people throng'd to see him land, 
Cov'ring the beach, and black'ning all the strand: 
But, like the Prince of Angels from his height, 
Comes tumbling downward with diminish'd light: 
Betray'd by one poor plot to public scorn: 
(Our only blessing since his curst return:) 
Those heaps of people which one sheaf did bind, 
Blown off, and scatter'd by a puff of wind. 
What strength can he to your designs oppose, 
Naked of friends and round beset with foes? 
If Pharaoh's doubtful succour he should use, 
A foreign aid would more incense the Jews: 
Proud Egypt would dissembled friendship bring; 
Foment the war, but not support the king: 
Nor would the royal party e'er unite 
With Pharaoh's arms, t'assist the Jebusite; 
Or if they should, their interest soon would break, 
And with such odious aid, make David weak. 
All sorts of men, by my successful arts, 
Abhorring kings, estrange their alter'd hearts 
From David's rule: And 'tis the general Cry, 
Religion, Common-wealth, and Liberty. 
If, you, as champion of the public good, 
Add to their arms a chief of royal blood; 
What may not Israel hope, and what applause 
Might such a general gain by such a cause? 
Not barren praise alone, that gaudy flow'r, 
Fair only to the sight, but solid pow'r: 
And nobler is a limited command, 
Giv'n by the love of all your native land, 
Than a successive title, long, and dark, 
Drawn from the mouldy rolls of Noah's Ark. 

What cannot praise effect in mighty minds, 
When flattery soothes, and when ambition blinds! 
Desire of pow'r, on earth a vicious weed, 
Yet, sprung from high, is of celestial seed: 
In God 'tis glory: And when men aspire, 
'Tis but a spark too much of heavenly fire. 
Th' ambitious youth, too covetous of fame, 
Too full of angel's metal in his frame; 
Unwarily was led from virtue's ways; 
Made drunk with honour, and debauch'd with praise. 
Half loath, and half consenting to the ill, 
(For loyal blood within him struggled still) 
He thus repli'd.—And what pretence have I 
To take up arms for public liberty? 
My Father governs with unquestion'd right; 
The Faith's defender, and mankind's delight: 
Good, gracious, just, observant of the laws; 
And Heav'n by wonders has espous'd his cause. 
Whom has he wrong'd in all his peaceful reign? 
Who sues for justice to his throne in vain? 
What millions has he pardon'd of his foes, 
Whom just revenge did to his wrath expose? 
Mild, easy, humble, studious of our good; 
Inclin'd to mercy, and averse from blood. 
If mildness ill with stubborn Israel suit, 
His crime is God's beloved attribute. 
What could he gain, his people to betray, 
Or change his right, for arbitrary sway? 
Let haughty Pharaoh curse with such a reign, 
His fruitful Nile, and yoke a servile train. 
If David's rule Jerusalem displease, 
The Dog-star heats their brains to this disease. 
Why then should I, encouraging the bad, 
Turn rebel, and run popularly mad? 
Were he a tyrant who, by lawless might, 
Oppress'd the Jews, and rais'd the Jebusite, 
Well might I mourn; but nature's holy bands 
Would curb my spirits, and restrain my hands: 
The people might assert their liberty; 
But what was right in them, were crime in me. 
His favour leaves me nothing to require; 
Prevents my wishes, and out-runs desire. 
What more can I expect while David lives? 
All but his kingly diadem he gives: 
And that: but there he paus'd; then sighing, said, 
Is justly destin'd for a worthier head. 
For when my father from his toils shall rest, 
And late augment the number of the blest: 
His lawful issue shall the throne ascend; 
Or the collat'ral line where that shall end. 
His brother, though oppress'd with vulgar spite, 
Yet dauntless and secure of native right, 
Of every royal virtue stands possess'd; 
Still dear to all the bravest, and the best. 
His courage foes, his friends his truth proclaim; 
His loyalty the king, the world his fame. 
His mercy ev'n th'offending crowd will find: 
For sure he comes of a forgiving kind. 
Why should I then repine at Heaven's decree; 
Which gives me no pretence to royalty? 
Yet oh that Fate, propitiously inclin'd, 
Had rais'd my birth, or had debas'd my mind; 
To my large soul, not all her treasure lent, 
And then betray'd it to a mean descent. 
I find, I find my mounting spirits bold, 
And David's part disdains my mother's mold. 
Why am I scanted by a niggard-birth? 
My soul disclaims the kindred of her earth: 
And made for empire, whispers me within; 
Desire of greatness is a god-like sin. 

Him staggering so when Hell's dire agent found, 
While fainting virtue scarce maintain'd her ground, 
He pours fresh forces in, and thus replies: 

Th'eternal God, supremely good and wise, 
Imparts not these prodigious gifts in vain; 
What wonders are reserv'd to bless your reign? 
Against your will your arguments have shown, 
Such virtue's only giv'n to guide a throne. 
Not that your father's mildness I contemn; 
But manly force becomes the diadem. 
'Tis true, he grants the people all they crave; 
And more perhaps than subjects ought to have: 
For lavish grants suppose a monarch tame, 
And more his goodness than his wit proclaim. 
But when should people strive their bonds to break, 
If not when kings are negligent or weak? 
Let him give on till he can give no more, 
The thrifty Sanhedrin shall keep him poor: 
And every shekel which he can receive, 
Shall cost a limb of his prerogative. 
To ply him with new plots, shall be my care; 
Or plunge him deep in some expensive war; 
Which, when his treasure can no more supply, 
He must, with the remains of kingship, buy. 
His faithful friends, our jealousies and fears 
Call Jebusites; and Pharaoh's pensioners: 
Whom, when our fury from his aid has torn, 
He shall be naked left to public scorn. 
The next successor, whom I fear and hate, 
My arts have made obnoxious to the state; 
Turn'd all his virtues to his overthrow, 
And gain'd our elders to pronounce a foe. 
His right, for sums of necessary gold, 
Shall first be pawn'd, and afterwards be sold: 
Till time shall ever-wanting David draw, 
To pass your doubtful title into law: 
If not; the people have a right supreme 
To make their kings; for kings are made for them. 
All empire is no more than pow'r in trust: 
Which when resum'd, can be no longer just. 
Succession, for the general good design'd, 
In its own wrong a nation cannot bind: 
If altering that, the people can relieve, 
Better one suffer, than a nation grieve. 
The Jews well know their pow'r: ere Saul they chose, 
God was their king, and God they durst depose. 
Urge now your piety, your filial name, 
A father's right, and fear of future fame; 
The public good, the universal call, 
To which even Heav'n submitted, answers all. 
Nor let his love enchant your generous mind; 
'Tis Nature's trick to propagate her kind. 
Our fond begetters, who would never die, 
Love but themselves in their posterity. 
Or let his kindness by th'effects be tri'd, 
Or let him lay his vain pretence aside. 
God said he lov'd your father; could he bring 
A better proof, than to anoint him king? 
It surely show'd he lov'd the shepherd well, 
Who gave so fair a flock as Israel. 
Would David have you thought his darling son? 
What means he then, to alienate the crown? 
The name of godly he may blush to bear: 
'Tis after God's own heart to cheat his heir. 
He to his brother gives supreme command; 
To you a legacy of barren land: 
Perhaps th'old harp, on which he thrums his lays: 
Or some dull Hebrew ballad in your praise. 
Then the next heir, a prince, severe and wise 
Already looks on you with jealous eyes; 
Sees through the thin disguises of your arts, 
And marks your progress in the people's hearts. 
Though now his mighty soul in grief contains, 
He meditates revenge who least complains; 
And like a lion, slumb'ring in the way, 
Or sleep-dissembling, while he waits his prey, 
His fearless foes within his distance draws; 
Constrains his roaring and contracts his paws: 
Till at the last, his time for fury found, 
He shoots with sudden vengeance from the ground: 
The prostrate vulgar, passes o'er, and spares; 
But with a lordly rage, his hunters tears. 
Your case no tame expedients will afford; 
Resolve on death, or conquest by the sword, 
Which for no less a stake than life, you draw; 
And self-defence is Nature's eldest law. 
Leave the warm people no considering time; 
For then rebellion may be thought a crime. 
Prevail yourself of what occasion gives, 
But try your title while your father lives: 
And that your arms may have a fair pretence, 
Proclaim, you take them in the king's defence: 
Whose sacred life each minute would expose 
To plots from seeming friends and secret foes. 
And who can sound the depth of David's soul? 
Perhaps his fear, his kindness may control. 
He fears his brother, though he loves his son, 
For plighted vows too late to be undone. 
If so, by force he wishes to be gain'd; 
Like women's lechery, to seem constrain'd: 
Doubt not; but when he most affects the frown, 
Commit a pleasing rape upon the crown. 
Secure his person to secure your cause; 
They who possess the prince, possess the laws. 

He said, and this advice above the rest 
With Absalom's mild nature suited best; 
Unblam'd of life, (ambition set aside,) 
Not stain'd with cruelty, nor puff'd with pride. 
How happy had he been, if destiny 
Had higher plac'd his birth, or not so high! 
His kingly virtues might have claim'd a throne; 
And blest all other countries but his own: 
But charming greatness since so few refuse, 
'Tis juster to lament him, than accuse. 
Strong were his hopes a rival to remove, 
With blandishments to gain the public love; 
To head the faction while their zeal was hot, 
And popularly prosecute the plot. 
To farther this Achitophel unites 
The malcontents of all the Israelites: 
Whose differing parties he could wisely join, 
For several ends, to serve the same design. 
The best, and of the princes some were such, 
Who thought the pow'r of monarchy too much: 
Mistaken men, and patriots in their hearts; 
Not wicked, but seduc'd by impious arts. 
By these the springs of property were bent, 
And wound so high, they crack'd the government. 
The next for interest sought t'embroil the state, 
To sell their duty at a dearer rate; 
And make their Jewish markets of the throne; 
Pretending public good, to serve their own. 
Others thought kings an useless heavy load, 
Who cost too much, and did too little good. 
These were for laying honest David by, 
On principles of pure good husbandry. 
With them join'd all th'haranguers of the throng, 
That thought to get preferment by the tongue. 
Who follow next, a double danger bring, 
Not only hating David, but the king; 
The Solymaean rout; well vers'd of old 
In godly faction, and in treason bold; 
Cow'ring and quaking at a conqu'ror's sword, 
But lofty to a lawful prince restor'd; 
Saw with disdain an Ethnic plot begun, 
And scorn'd by Jebusites to be out-done. 
Hot Levites headed these; who pull'd before 
From th'Ark, which in the Judges' days they bore, 
Resum'd their Cant, and with a zealous cry, 
Pursu'd their old belov'd Theocracy. 
Where Sanhedrin and Priest enslav'd the nation, 
And justifi'd their spoils by inspiration: 
For who so fit for reign as Aaron's race, 
If once dominion they could found in Grace? 
These led the pack; though not of surest scent, 
Yet deepest mouth'd against the government. 
A numerous host of dreaming saints succeed; 
Of the true old enthusiastic breed: 
'Gainst form and order they their pow'r employ; 
Nothing to build, and all things to destroy. 
But far more numerous was the herd of such, 
Who think too little, and who talk too much. 
These, out of mere instinct, they knew not why, 
Ador'd their father's God, and property: 
And by the same blind benefit of fate, 
The Devil and the Jebusite did hate: 
Born to be saved even in their own despite; 
Because they could not help believing right. 
Such were the tools; but a whole Hydra more 
Remains, of sprouting heads too long, to score. 
Some of their chiefs were princes of the land: 
In the first rank of these did Zimri stand: 
A man so various, that he seem'd to be 
Not one, but all Mankind's Epitome. 
Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong; 
Was everything by starts, and nothing long: 
But in the course of one revolving moon, 
Was chemist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon: 
Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking; 
Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking. 
Blest madman, who could every hour employ, 
With something new to wish, or to enjoy! 
Railing and praising were his usual themes; 
And both (to show his judgment) in extremes: 
So over violent, or over civil, 
That every man, with him, was god or devil. 
In squandering wealth was his peculiar art: 
Nothing went unrewarded, but desert. 
Beggar'd by fools, whom still he found too late: 
He had his jest, and they had his estate. 
He laugh'd himself from court; then sought relief 
By forming parties, but could ne'er be chief: 
For, spite of him, the weight of business fell 
On Absalom and wise Achitophel: 
Thus, wicked but in will, of means bereft, 
He left not faction, but of that was left. 

Titles and names 'twere tedious to rehearse 
Of lords, below the dignity of verse. 
Wits, warriors, commonwealths-men, were the best: 
Kind husbands and mere nobles all the rest. 
And, therefore in the name of dullness, be 
The well-hung Balaam and cold Caleb free. 
And canting Nadab let oblivion damn, 
Who made new porridge for the Paschal Lamb. 
Let friendship's holy band some names assure: 
Some their own worth, and some let scorn secure. 
Nor shall the rascal rabble here have place, 
Whom kings no titles gave, and God no grace: 
Not bull-faced Jonas, who could statutes draw 
To mean rebellion, and make treason law. 
But he, though bad, is follow'd by a worse, 
The wretch, who Heav'n's Anointed dar'd to curse. 
Shimei, whose youth did early promise bring 
Of zeal to God, and hatred to his king; 
Did wisely from expensive sins refrain, 
And never broke the Sabbath, but for gain: 
Nor ever was he known an oath to vent, 
Or curse, unless against the government. 
Thus, heaping wealth, by the most ready way 
Among the Jews, which was to cheat and pray; 
The city, to reward his pious hate 
Against his master, chose him magistrate: 
His hand a vare of justice did uphold; 
His neck was loaded with a chain of gold. 
During his office, treason was no crime. 
The sons of Belial had a glorious time: 
For Shimei, though not prodigal of pelf, 
Yet lov'd his wicked neighbour as himself: 
When two or three were gather'd to declaim 
Against the monarch of Jerusalem, 
Shimei was always in the midst of them. 
And, if they curst the king when he was by, 
Would rather curse, than break good company. 
If any durst his factious friends accuse, 
He pack'd a jury of dissenting Jews: 
Whose fellow-feeling, in the godly cause, 
Would free the suff'ring saint from human laws. 
For laws are only made to punish those 
Who serve the king, and to protect his foes. 
If any leisure time he had from pow'r, 
(Because 'tis sin to mis-employ an hour;) 
His bus'ness was, by writing, to persuade, 
That kings were useless, and a clog to trade: 
And, that his noble style he might refine, 
No Rechabite more shunn'd the fumes of wine. 
Chaste were his cellars; and his shrieval board 
The grossness of a city feast abhorr'd: 
His cooks, with long disuse, their trade forgot; 
Cool was his kitchen, though his brains were hot. 
Such frugal virtue malice may accuse; 
But sure 'twas necessary to the Jews: 
For towns once burnt, such magistrates require 
As dare not tempt God's providence by fire. 
With spiritual food he fed his servants well, 
But free from flesh, that made the Jews rebel: 
And Moses' laws he held in more account 
For forty days of fasting in the mount. 
To speak the rest, who better are forgot, 
Would tire a well-breath'd witness of the plot: 
Yet, Corah, thou shalt from oblivion pass; 
Erect thyself thou monumental brass: 
High as the serpent of thy metal made, 
While nations stand secure beneath thy shade. 
What though his birth were base, yet comets rise 
From earthy vapours e'er they shine in skies. 
Prodigious actions may as well be done 
By weaver's issue, as by prince's son. 
This arch-attestor, for the public good, 
By that one deed ennobles all his blood. 
Who ever ask'd the witnesses' high race, 
Whose oath with martyrdom did Stephen grace? 
Ours was a Levite, and as times went then, 
His tribe were God-almighty's gentlemen. 
Sunk were his eyes, his voice was harsh and loud, 
Sure signs he neither choleric was, nor proud: 
His long chin prov'd his wit; his saint-like grace 
A church vermilion, and a Moses' face. 
His memory, miraculously great, 
Could plots exceeding man's belief, repeat; 
Which therefore cannot be accounted lies, 
For human wit could never such devise. 
Some future truths are mingled in his book; 
But, where the witness fail'd, the Prophet spoke: 
Some things like visionary flights appear; 
The spirit caught him up, the Lord knows where: 
And gave him his rabbinical degree, 
Unknown to foreign university. 
His judgment yet his mem'ry did excel: 
Which piec'd his wondrous evidence so well: 
And suited to the temper of the times; 
Then groaning under Jebusitic crimes. 
Let Israel's foes suspect his Heav'nly call, 
And rashly judge his writ apocryphal; 
Our laws for such affronts have forfeits made: 
He takes his life, who takes away his trade. 
Were I myself in witness Corah's place, 
The wretch who did me such a dire disgrace, 
Should whet my memory, though once forgot, 
To make him an appendix of my plot. 
His zeal to Heav'n made him his prince despise, 
And load his person with indignities: 
But Zeal peculiar privilege affords, 
Indulging latitude to deeds and words. 
And Corah might for Agag's murther call, 
In terms as coarse as Samuel us'd to Saul. 
What others in his evidence did join, 
(The best that could be had for love or coin,) 
In Corah's own predicament will fall: 
For Witness is a common name to all. 

Surrounded thus with friends of every sort, 
Deluded Absalom forsakes the court: 
Impatient of high hopes, urg'd with renown, 
And fir'd with near possession of a crown: 
Th' admiring crowd are dazzled with surprise, 
And on his goodly person feed their eyes: 
His joy conceal'd, he sets himself to show; 
On each side bowing popularly low: 
His looks, his gestures, and his words he frames, 
And with familiar ease repeats their names. 
Thus, form'd by Nature, furnish'd out with arts, 
He glides unfelt into their secret hearts: 
Then, with a kind compassionating look, 
And sighs, bespeaking pity e'er he spoke: 
Few words he said; but easy those and fit: 
More slow than Hybla drops, and far more sweet. 

I mourn, my country-men, your lost estate; 
Though far unable to prevent your fate: 
Behold a banish'd man, for your dear cause 
Expos'd a prey to arbitrary laws! 
Yet oh! that I alone could be undone, 
Cut off from empire, and no more a son! 
Now all your liberties a spoil are made; 
Egypt and Tyrus intercept your trade, 
And Jebusites your sacred rites invade. 
My father, whom with reverence yet I name, 
Charm'd into ease, is careless of his fame: 
And, brib'd with petty sums of foreign gold, 
Is grown in Bathsheba's embraces old: 
Exalts his enemies, his friends destroys: 
And all his pow'r against himself employs. 
He gives, and let him give my right away: 
But why should he his own, and yours betray? 
He, only he can make the nation bleed, 
And he alone from my revenge is freed. 
Take then my tears (with that he wip'd his eyes) 
'Tis all the aid my present pow'r supplies: 
No court-informer can these arms accuse; 
These arms may sons against their fathers use; 
And, 'tis my wish, the next successor's reign 
May make no other Israelite complain. 

Youth, beauty, graceful action, seldom fail: 
But common interest always will prevail: 
And pity never ceases to be shown 
To him, who makes the people's wrongs his own. 
The crowd, (that still believe their kings oppress,) 
With lifted hands their young Messiah bless: 
Who now begins his progress to ordain; 
With chariots, horsemen, and a num'rous train: 
From East to West his glories he displays: 
And, like the sun, the Promis'd Land surveys. 
Fame runs before him, as the Morning-Star; 
And shouts of joy salute him from afar: 
Each house receives him as a guardian God; 
And consecrates the place of his abode: 
But hospitable treats did most commend 
Wise Issachar, his wealthy western friend. 
This moving court, that caught the people's eyes, 
And seem'd but pomp, did other ends disguise: 
Achitophel had form'd it, with intent 
To sound the depths, and fathom where it went, 
The people's hearts; distinguish friends from foes; 
And try their strength, before they came to blows. 
Yet all was colour'd with a smooth pretence 
Of specious love, and duty to their prince. 
Religion, and redress of grievances, 
Two names, that always cheat and always please, 
Are often urg'd; and good King David's life 
Endanger'd by a brother and a wife. 
Thus, in a pageant show, a plot is made; 
And peace itself is war in masquerade. 
Oh foolish Israel! never warn'd by ill: 
Still the same bait, and circumvented still! 
Did ever men forsake their present ease, 
In midst of health imagine a disease; 
Take pains contingent mischiefs to foresee, 
Make heirs for monarchs, and for God decree? 
What shall we think! Can people give away 
Both for themselves and sons, their native sway? 
Then they are left defenceless to the sword 
Of each unbounded arbitrary lord: 
And laws are vain, by which we right enjoy, 
If kings unquestion'd can those laws destroy. 
Yet, if the crowd be judge of fit and just, 
And kings are only officers in trust, 
Then this resuming cov'nant was declar'd 
When Kings were made, or is for ever bar'd: 
If those who gave the sceptre could not tie 
By their own deed their own posterity, 
How then could Adam bind his future race? 
How could his forfeit on mankind take place? 
Or how could heavenly justice damn us all, 
Who ne'er consented to our father's fall? 
Then kings are slaves to those whom they command, 
And tenants to their people's pleasure stand. 
Add, that the pow'r for property allow'd, 
Is mischievously seated in the crowd: 
For who can be secure of private right, 
If sovereign sway may be dissolv'd by might? 
Nor is the people's judgment always true: 
The most may err as grossly as the few. 
And faultless kings run down, by common cry, 
For vice, oppression and for tyranny. 
What standard is there in a fickle rout, 
Which, flowing to the mark, runs faster out? 
Nor only crowds, but Sanhedrins may be 
Infected with this public lunacy: 
And share the madness of rebellious times, 
To murther monarchs for imagin'd crimes. 
If they may give and take whene'er they please, 
Not kings alone, (the godhead's images,) 
But government itself at length must fall 
To nature's state, where all have right to all. 
Yet, grant our lords the people kings can make, 
What prudent men a settled throne would shake? 
For whatsoe'er their sufferings were before, 
That change they covet makes them suffer more. 
All other errors but disturb a state; 
But innovation is the blow of fate. 
If ancient fabrics nod, and threat to fall, 
To patch the flaws, and buttress up the wall, 
Thus far 'tis duty; but here fix the mark: 
For all beyond it is to touch our Ark. 
To change foundations, cast the frame anew, 
Is work for rebels who base ends pursue: 
At once divine and human laws control; 
And mend the parts by ruin of the whole. 
The tamp'ring world is subject to this curse, 
To physic their disease into a worse. 

Now what relief can righteous David bring? 
How fatal 'tis to be too good a king! 
Friends he has few, so high the madness grows; 
Who dare be such, must be the people's foes: 
Yet some there were, ev'n in the worst of days; 
Some let me name, and naming is to praise. 

In this short file Barzillai first appears; 
Barzillai crown'd with honour and with years: 
Long since, the rising rebels he withstood 
In regions waste, beyond the Jordan's flood: 
Unfortunately brave to buoy the state; 
But sinking underneath his master's fate: 
In exile with his god-like prince he mourn'd: 
For him he suffer'd, and with him return'd. 
The court he practis'd, not the courtier's art: 
Large was his wealth, but larger was his heart: 
Which well the noblest objects knew to choose, 
The fighting warrior, and recording Muse. 
His bed could once a fruitful issue boast: 
Now more than half a father's name is lost. 
His eldest hope, with every grace adorn'd, 
By me (so Heav'n will have it) always mourn'd, 
And always honour'd, snatch'd in manhood's prime 
B' unequal Fates, and Providence's crime: 
Yet not before the goal of honour won, 
All parts fulfill'd, of subject and of son; 
Swift was the race, but short the time to run. 
Oh narrow circle, but of pow'r divine, 
Scanted in space, but perfect in thy line! 
By sea, by land, thy matchless worth was known; 
Arms thy delight, and war was all thy own: 
Thy force infus'd, the fainting Tyrians propp'd: 
And haughty Pharaoh found his fortune stopp'd. 
Oh ancient honour, Oh unconquer'd Hand, 
Whom foes unpunish'd never could withstand! 
But Israel was unworthy of thy name: 
Short is the date of all immoderate fame. 
It looks as Heav'n our ruin had design'd, 
And durst not trust thy fortune and thy mind. 
Now, free from earth, thy disencumber'd Soul 
Mounts up, and leaves behind the clouds and starry pole: 
From thence thy kindred legions may'st thou bring, 
To aid the Guardian Angel of thy king. 
Here stop my Muse, here cease thy painful flight; 
No pinions can pursue immortal height: 
Tell good Barzillai thou canst sing no more, 
And tell thy soul she should have fled before; 
Or fled she with his life, and left this verse 
To hang on her departed patron's hearse? 
Now take thy steepy flight from Heav'n, and see 
If thou canst find on earth another he; 
Another he would be too hard to find, 
See then whom thou canst see not far behind. 
Zadoc the priest whom, shunning, pow'r and place, 
His lowly mind advanc'd to David's grace: 
With him the Sagan of Jerusalem, 
Of hospitable soul and noble stem; 
Him of the western dome, whose weighty sense 
Flows in fit words and heavenly eloquence. 
The Prophet's sons by such example led, 
To learning and to loyalty were bred: 
For colleges on bounteous kings depend, 
And never rebel was to arts a friend. 
To these succeed the pillars of the laws, 
Who best could plead, and best can judge a cause. 
Next them a train of loyal peers ascend: 
Sharp judging Adriel, the Muse's friend, 
Himself a Muse:—in Sanhedrin's debate 
True to his prince; but not a slave of state. 
Whom David's love with honours did adorn, 
That from his disobedient son were torn. 
Jotham of piercing wit and pregnant thought, 
Endow'd by Nature, and by learning taught 
To move assemblies, who but only tri'd 
The worse awhile, then chose the better side; 
Nor chose alone, but turn'd the balance too; 
So much the weight of one brave man can do. 
Hushai, the friend of David in distress, 
In public storms of manly steadfastness; 
By foreign treaties he inform'd his youth; 
And join'd experience to his native truth. 
His frugal care suppli'd the wanting throne; 
Frugal for that, but bounteous of his own: 
'Tis easy conduct when exchequers flow; 
But hard the task to manage well the low: 
For sovereign power is too depress'd or high, 
When kings are forc'd to sell, or crowds to buy. 
Indulge one labour more, my weary Muse, 
For Amiel, who can Amiel's praise refuse? 
Of ancient race by birth, but nobler yet 
In his own worth, and without title great: 
The Sanhedrin long time as chief he rul'd, 
Their reason guided, and their passion cool'd; 
So dext'rous was he in the crown's defence, 
So form'd to speak a loyal nation's sense, 
That as their band was Israel's tribes in small, 
So fit was he to represent them all. 
Now rasher charioteers the seat ascend, 
Whose loose careers his steady skill commend: 
They, like th'unequal ruler of the day, 
Misguide the seasons and mistake the way; 
While he withdrawn at their mad labour smiles, 
And safe enjoys the sabbath of his toils. 

These were the chief; a small but faithful band 
Of worthies, in the breach who dar'd to stand, 
And tempt th'united fury of the land. 
With grief they view'd such powerful engines bent, 
To batter down the lawful government. 
A numerous faction with pretended frights, 
In Sanhedrins to plume the regal rights. 
The true successor from the court remov'd: 
The plot, by hireling witnesses, improv'd. 
These ills they saw, and as their duty bound, 
They show'd the king the danger of the wound: 
That no concessions from the throne would please; 
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 Heav'n inspir'd, 
The god-like David spoke; and awful fear 
His train their Maker in their Master hear. 

Thus long have I by native mercy sway'd, 
My wrongs dissembl'd, 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 shew I am not good by force. 
Those heap'd affronts that haughty subjects bring, 
Are burdens 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 Sampson 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 heights his frame could bear: 
Had God ordain'd his fate for empire born, 
He would have giv'n 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, e'er he lost his place, 
Was never thought endued with so much grace. 
Good heav'ns, how faction can a patriot paint! 
My rebel ever proves my people's saint; 
Would they impose an heir upon the throne? 
Let Sanhedrins 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 depose; 
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 pow'r away. 
From plots and treasons Heav'n 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 pow'r control, 
Such votes as make a part exceed the whole: 
No groundless clamours shall my friends remove, 
Nor crowds have pow'r to punish ere they prove: 
For gods, and god-like kings their care express, 
Still to defend their servants in distress. 
Oh that my pow'r to saving were confin'd: 
Why am I forc'd, like Heav'n, 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 terror 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 the Belzebub will fight; 
Thus on my foes, my foes shall do me right: 

Nor doubt th'event: for factious crowds engage 
In their first onset, all their brutal rage; 
Then, let 'em take an unresisted course: 
Retire and traverse, and delude their force: 
But when they stand all breathless, urge the fight, 
And rise upon 'em with redoubled might: 
For lawful pow'r is still superior found, 
When long driv'n 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 god-like David was restor'd, 
And willing nations knew their lawful lord.