The chiefest blessings Adam's
chaplain
got.
Marvell - Poems
♦ The king's sister, the Duchess of Orleans, was a woman
of great intrigue. In the year 1671, she and her brother mot
Ht Dover. When she returned into France, the Duke of
Orleans, who had received very strange accounts of her
behaviour in England, ordered a great dose of sublimate to
be given her in a glass of succory water, of whicli* she died
in great torment.
Digitized by VjOOQIC
OF MARY ELL. 303
Riches and honour they from laymen reap
And with dull crambo teed the silly sheep.
As Killigrew buffoons his master, they
Droll on their god, but a much duller way.
With hocus-pocus, and their heavenly fight,
They gain on tender consciences at night.
Whoever has an over-zealous wife.
Becomes the priest's Amphitryo during life.
Who would such men heaven's messengers
believe,
Who from the sacred pulpit dare deceive ?
Baal's wretched curates legerdemained it so.
And never durst their tricks above-board show.
When our first parents Paradise did grace,
The serpent was the prelate of the place ;
Fond Eve did, for this subtle tempter's sake.
From the forbidden tree the pippin take ;
His God and Lord this preacher did betray,
To have the weaker vessel made his prey.
Since death and sin did human nature blot.
The chiefest blessings Adam's chaplain got.
Thrice wretched they, who nature's laws detest.
To trace the ways fantastic of a priest.
Till native reason 's basely forced to yield.
And hosts of upstart errors gain the field.
My muse presumed a little to digress,
And touch their lioly function with my verse.
Digitized by VjOOQIC
304 THE POEMS
Now to the stage again she tends direct.
And does on giant Lauderdale reflect.
This haughty oaooster, with his ugly claws.
First tempered poison to destroy our laws ;
Declares the council's edicts are beyond
The most authentic statutes of the land ;
Sets up in Scotland a la mode de France ;
Taxes, excise, and armies does advance.
This Saracen his country's freedom broke.
To bring upon their necks the heavier yoke ;
This b the savage pimp, without dispute,
First brought his mother for a prostitute ;
Of all the miscreants e*er went to hell.
This villain rampant bears away the bell.
Now must my muse deplore the nation's fate,
Like a true lover for her dying mate.
The royal evil so malignant grows.
Nothing the dire contagion can oppose.
