Zion in Distress, Poem 1 · Part 40 – Part 43
England.
HAd I has many Tongues at my commands,
As Argus Eyes, Briareus Hands;
I ſcarce could in a Century expreſs
One half of my unſpeakable diſtreſs!
In every Age I had ſome Sons of Light,
That would diſcover Romes Egyptian Night;
Yet they no ſooner on the Stage appear,
But that her Setting Dogs, like Blood-hounds, we…
Upon the ſcent, and never left purſuit,
Until to death they did them perſecute.
My Royal Edicts this bold Whore has broke,
And on my Neck clapt her Tyranick Yoke.
Vaſt Treaſures from my Natives were extorted,
And to inrich her Exchequer tranſported.
Prodigious Sums ſhe yearly ſqueezed hence,
For Pardons, Obits, Annales, Peter-pence.
And though each Land where ſhe her Triumphs l…
Whoſe ſwarms of Locuſts Prieſts and Friers w…
Theſe (as the Janizaries to the Turk)
Were faithful ſlaves ſtill to promote her work.
Whilſt to maintain theſe Drones, ſhe ſwept awa…
The Fat and Wealth of Nations for their prey.
Such as would not be by her Witch-craft led
Were tortur'd, murher'd, burnt or maſſacred.
The Papal Beaſt could in a Frollick tell,
I was his Fountain inexhauſtible.
She planted Prieſts, and Ganimedes ſhe rooted,
Within my Bowels, which the Land polluted;
With ſuch a peſt of vile Debaucheries,
As Pagans, Turks, and Infidels outvies.
She cruſhes any that her Acts oppoſes;
My Kings ſhe Poiſons, Murders or Depoſes.
Some ſhe deludes her Sov'raignty to own,
And does inſtruct them to betray the Crown.
Her lurking Imps do menace me with ſtorms,
Like Egypts Frogs in peſtilential ſwarms.
She is ſo greedy nothing will ſuffice,
Unleſs I'm more a general Sacrifice.
…Tis known to all the Earth, how many ways
She martyr'd Proteſtants in Marian days.
Then was I made a diſmal Field of Blood,
Which ran like currents of a ſwelling flood.
She ſtirs the Spaniard in a great bravado,
For to invade me with his proud Armado.
The helliſh Powder Treaſon ſhe prepares,
At once to blow up Commons, Kings and Peers.
Her helliſh Brands (without a ſpark of pitty)
Conſum'd to Aſhes my Imperial City.
Nought but my Ruine her can ſatiate,
My Juſtices ſhe does aſſaſſinate.
…or many years ſhe has been carrying on
A damn'd Intreague for my Deſtruction.
And all the ways that Satan prompts her to
Contrive my fall, ſhe's ready ſtill to do.
Her ſpite and malice nothing will abate,
…ts ſtill more deadly and inveterate.
Dread Providence ſhall ever have my thanks,
That has diſcover'd her infernal pranks;
Yet I am ſtill in danger, and therefore
D… beg juſt ſentence on this bloody Whore.
The Evidence ſummed up.
O Gulph of horror! O profound Abyſs!
Was ever miſchief half ſo black as this!
Thou monſtrous Whore, what Language can expreſs
The boundleſs meaſure of thy wickedneſs.
Throughout the Earth thou haſt ſuch miſchief wrought
As is amazing to a humane thought.
It would compel a heart of ſtone to melt,
When it revolves what Froteſtants have felt.
Thy bloody fury and infernal rage,
Has perſecuted them in every age.
Thou mad'ſt the Magiſtrates their Enemies,
And all the tortures which thou could'ſt deviſe, Toes
Thou didſt inflict, as teſtimony ſhows,
Some thou didſt hang by the Head, ſome by th…
Some millions thou didſt burn aud broil on Coles
And others ſtarve to death in ſtinking holes.
Some thou didſt cut to pieces very ſmall,
And Infants Brains didſt daſh againſt the Wall.
Upon their Bodies thou didſt tread like dung,
Thou hadſt no mercy upon old or young.
By thy curſed crew were Women raviſhed,
Who then (like Butchers) knockt them on the hea…
Some had their Eyes and Tongues by thee pull'd out,
Some were made harborleſs, and forc'd about
To wander, till in Woods and diſmal Caves
They found their woful and untimely Graves.
What rocky heart but juſtly may admire
Thy rage, that made poor Children to ſet fire
To fatal piles in which their Parents dear
In cruel flames conſum'd to aſhes were.
Thy wicked Agents have ſome Millions ſlain,
Who did endure the moſt inhumane pain.
Thy Biſhops, Monks, and Fryers could deviſe,
Whoſe blood to me for ſpeedy Vengeance Cries.
The waies thou tookſt to run a Soul from error
Was unexampled fleſh-amazing terror
Of horrid Racks whereon a man muſt lie,
Tortour'd to death, and dying cannot die.
Accurſed Wretch, didſt thou not give Commiſſion
For to erect thy bloody Inquiſition;
That loathſom Dungeon and moſt ghaſtly Cell,
A place of horror repreſenting Hell,
Where nothing is ſo plentiful as tears,
Where Martyr'd Proteſtants can find no ears
To hear their Cries and lamentable moans,
Nor Hearts to pity their extorted groans;
Where Saints in torments all their daies muſt ſpend,
Not knowing when their ſuff'rings will have end.
Thouſands by thee were in Bohemia ſlain,
Whoſe Carkaſſes unburied did remain.
Thou madeſt thy Vaſſals fall upon that Nation,
On no leſs penalty than their Damnation.
Didſt thou not promiſe upon that condition
To give them full and abſolute remiſſion,
The vileſt wretch that on the Earth has ſtood;
You fully pardon'd, if hee'd ſhed the blood
Of one Bohemian; O ſtupendious rage!
Not to be paralled'd in any Age,
But by thy ſelf, 'twas judg'd De Alva's Crime
That he deſtroy'd no more in ſix years time
Than eighteen thouſand ſouls; were they ſo few
In the accont of this blood-thirſty Crew!
But if the Wretch (De Alva's) bloody Bill
Come ſhort in numbers, yet his hand did fill
It up with torments; dreadful to rehearſe,
The very mention cannot chuſe but pierce
A Marble heart, make Infidels relent,
Torments that none but Devils could invent.
But if all this was over-little ſtill,
His Predeceſſors did inlarge the Bill:
For from the time thy helliſh Inquiſition
Did from the Devil firſt receive Commiſſion,
By cruel torments (which they ſtill retain)
There were a hundred fifty thouſand ſlain,
From that black ſeaſon when the helliſh rage
Of Jeſuits acted on th' European Stage
In England, France, in Italy, and Spain,
By thy accurſed bloody hands were ſlain
Nine hundred thouſand ſouls, or thereabout,
(E're many years had run their circuits out)
Of poor Americans by cruel Spain
In fifty years were many Millions ſlain.
The poor Waldenſes whoſe enlighted eye
Thy filthy Whoredoms quickly did eſpye.
Thou haſt with raging Perſecutions rent
And murder'd Parents with their innocent
And harmleſs Babes; thy more than barb'rous crew
Their curſed hands did in their blood imbrue;
At once were eighty Infants famiſhed,
And many thouſands baſely Murthered.
When ſome have fled unto obſcureſt Caves,
Thy Villains made their hiding place their Graves.
What part of Europe now can make their boaſt,
And ſay they have not taſted (to their coſt)
Of thy Malignity? What ſhall I ſay
Of Germany, whoſe Martyr'd Spirits pray
For ſpe…dy Vengeance on thy curſed head?
That Sea of blood thou haſt in Ireland ſhed,
Cries night and day for Juſtice; now I fix
My ſerious thoughts upon black ſixty ſix,
Thou bloody Strumpet, how canſt thou repair
The loſs of Englands great Imperial Chair;
How many rich men were to beggars turn'd,
When that brave Iſles, Metropolis was burn'd
By thy accurſed Imps, Fire…brands of Hell,
Incarnate Devils without parallel.
Brave Merchants of their great Eſtates bereft,
To day Rich men, to morrow nothing left;
Their Wives and Children harbourleſs became,
Their ſubſtance all conſumed in the flame.
But to conclude, I have not yet …orgot
Thy Powder-Treaſon, nor thy modern Plot,
Nor all thy diſmal Villanies that were
Done in the Merindolian Maſſacre.
Should I but recapitulate thy charge,
And ſpeak of all thy Rogueries at large
'I would fill vaſt Volums; Often did I ſee
The Lord of Life was Crucify'd by thee
When this dear Members blood by thee was ſhed,
Millions unnumbred baſely Murthered.
Yet ſtill thou haſt the impudence to ſay
That thou art innocent unto this day-
Thou ſhameleſs Curtezan, didſt thou not run
With filthy Panders, and renounc'd the Son
Of Glory, this did thine Eſpouſals break;
Canſt thou deny it, ſhameleſs Strumpet, ſpeak.
Babylon.
I am the Mother Church, and hence deny
That filthy name I am indicated by.
The odious Epithets of Scarlet Whore,
Is daily laid unjuſtly at my door.
I am Chriſts Church, his Spouſe and only love,
His undefiled one and ſpotleſs Dove.
Pray then forbear the Sentence, look about
To find that Whore and grand Deliquent out.
Bold Hereticks, who never would adhere,
To the true Faith and Apoſtolick Chair.
Have born my juſt rebukes, ſome more, ſome leſs,
As was their Pride, Rebellion, Wickedneſs.
Judge.
Thou graceleſs Wretch, thou art bereft of ſhame,
How draſt thou thus deny thy proper name.
Chriſt's Church, his Members never did annoy,
Nor perſecute, and millions thus deſtroy.
'Tis to no purpoſe for thee to diſpute,
For all thy Forgeries I can confute.
I am thy Judge, and never will paſs by
Thy horrid Acts, and bloody Villany.
The times at hand when I'll fulfil my word,
And in juſt fury draw my glittering ſword.
My frown ſhall make thy proud foundation quake,
And all the Pillars of thy Houſe I'll ſhake.
Doſt think becauſe I did forbear ſo long,
That I'll revenge not my dear Childrens wrong.
What I reſolve to do or will command,
No Pope nor Devil can the ſame withſtand.
He that preſum'd great Monarchs to depoſe,
Shall ſoon be tumbled down by ſome of thoſe
Whom he ſo cruſht; from Hell he did aſcend,
And thither ſhall be flung down in the end.
He'll ſurely fall and never riſe again;
The hope thou haſt of him is therefore vain.
There's no recalling of the Sentence gone,
Thy Execution day approaches on,
Thy Pardon-Merchants then ſhall cry and howl,
And thy Deſtruction (in this ſort) condole.
" Illuſtrious City thou wert great and fair,
" Moſt brave and ſumptuous, ev'n beyond compare.
" Alas! how quickly are thy Judgments come,
" Thy fall, thy ruin, and thy final doom.
" Our Trade is gone, our gainful Merchandize
" Is loſt, and no man does regard our Cries.
" O ſad Deſtruction! we are all undone,
" What ſhall we do, or whither ſhall we run?
" O that the Mountains and the Hills would cover
" Us, till the Vengeance of the Lord be over!