LƲCIAN, The Cock or Dream,

He has his thoughts busied about his Son Who is unworthy to succeed him, or his Brother that raises Troops privately and makes Creatures underhand.

LONDON, Printed for John Spicer, 1682.

THE CONSPIRACY OF AENEAS and ANTENOR Against the State of Troy, &c.

LOng time had Troy through various Tumults past;
And War laid all her Habitations wast,
A Holy War! for the pretended cause
Was, as 'tis still; Religion and the Laws,
'Twas said the King when he receiv'd his Crown,
Did Bargain with the Gods to Guard his Town;
And's People claim'd his Coronation-Oath,
But as 'twas wispered then, he broke 'um both:
His Subjects might not their own right dispute;
His Empire was from Heaven and absolute;
Wherefore th' avenging Gods more angry grown,
Espous'd the cause, and made it all their own:
They drove their own Anointed to distress,
And Crown'd a Rebel-Army with success:
At length the King at his own Gate being slain,
And all the Trojan Towers Rebuilt again;
Priam by Right and Merit claims the Throne;
Priam though young, yet mighty in renown;
For none with greater Courage in the war
Against Alcides Bosom broke his Spear:
Thrice through their Ranks his Passage he'd have forc'd,
But being but young, as many time unhors'd:
Had half his Army half his Courage shown,
Laomedon till now had kept his Crown.
A happy King in such a Sons defence,
And happy he in being still but Prince.
Never did King at such advantage rise,
Known to be Gracious and reputed Wise,
Born on his Subjects Love, and big with Fate,
Suppos'd the only means to fix the State;
His friendship by each neighbouring Prince embrac'd
And every Subject blest Him as he pass'd;
Whose ev'ry Purse so freely he might use,
His own Estate was thought superfluous;
With which he all his Enemies regain'd,
And with a Golden shower enrich't his Land;
Thus did he Reign near thirty years in Peace,
And saw his Line to fifty Sons encrease.
All which did promise wonders in their Youth,
But in Physiognomy there is no truth.
For al deceiv'd his hopes but only one,
The God-like Hector, his brave eldest Son.
Hector his Fathers Joy, and Countries Pride,
And to whose Sword the Fate of Troy was ty'd;
When any State did any Monarch brave,
The proudest Tyrant Hector's Aid would Crave:
But when too far his Victories did run,
Priam did only Countermand his Son,
And strait he spew'd up all that he had won;
So when the Zealous Multitude that dwelt
Beyond Scamander's bounding stream rebell'd,
By Hectors hand they easily were quell'd;
Who then in silent Triumph, big with Fame,
Like Phoebus to his Fathers Arms he came;
Having restor'd his Heaven to its Peace;
But see a fatal Helen sails from Greece;
Who shall betray your Councels to her Lord,
And from their Head remove your trusty Sword:
See how the Neighbouring Potentates Conspire,
And Chalchas holy Zeal blows up the Fire:
Chalchas, th'eternal Foe of Ilium's State,
By Priests-Succession does derive his hate;
He makes all Heaven his Pious Cause Espouse,
And arms more War-like-Saints then Atlas knows;
But arm them all, their own Created Shrines
While the Palladium in our Temples shines,
Which does from Heaven its Pedigree derive,
The greatest Blessing Jove himself could give;
A Guard sufficient if all others fail;
'Gainst which e'en Hell its self shall ne're prevail:
Jove from his Mount beholds you toyl in vain,
And laughs at all the empty tricks of man:
He lets you fight to work his own decree;
For these thou kill'st had dy'd in spight of thee.
At our expence the Grecian valour try,
And by their Swords a thousand Trojans dye;
Ten thousand Greeks lie scattered o're the Strand,
And with their Blood enrich a hostile Land;
But Priam when the War came on a pace,
Dispatcht his darling Polydore to Thrace,
And with him a prodigious Sum did send;
No greater errour did this King attend,
Than looking on that Tyrant as his friend,
Who, when the fate of Troy shall backward run,
And Priams Family be quit undone,
Shall seize the Treasure when the brat is slain,
While the poor Bitch his Mother howls in vain.
Priam cries out hast to the Seas and burn
Their thousand Ships, the hopes of their return;
For this Important Action on the Foes,
Aeneas and Sarpedon heads were choose:
The proud Aeneas, though in Person Mean,
All grant his Mother was the Cyprean Queen;
But when her Husband from Tydides fled,
The Lord Anchises slipt into his bed:
This mother did his credulous Youth abuse,
And baneful Doctrines in his Soul infuse;
In his opinions obstinate and bold,
To save all Troy he would not quit his hold,
When he so pleas'd; for high Employments fit;
For grant him Courage though you doubt his Wit.
Strict and severe as all his Creatures know;
Then he's a heart that ne're forgave a foe:
To Love has been a Martyr o're and o're;
Then whom none knew so much, none suffer'd more,
But when his Wife Creusa did expire,
What pity 'twas she perish't in the fire,
And lest the Prince should pine away with grief,
Th' Oraculous Priest afforded this Relief;
Ne're wet your eyes for what you've Left behind,
For Mightier things, and Nobler beds design'd;
The fair Lavinia to your Arms I'le bring,
And by her Interest make you more then King;
Pleas'd and astonisht he could nothing say,
In expectation of the happy Day.
This was the Chief, Sarpedon by his side,
A Lyrian Prince, but near to Troy ally'd;
For Ilus Daughter was his Fathers Bride;
Unfortunately brave, a wondrous Man,
Who if he lost the day, did honour gain:
No soul more true, no native Subject draws
A trustier Sword in injur'd Priam's Cause.
These chiefs the Trojans eagerly obey,
And through the Greeks with slaughter force their way
Who from th'unequal Combat do retire,
And perish in the Waves to shun the Fire;
Two different Gods their ruine do conspire,
Immortal Honour did the Leaders gain,
Ajax being fled, and great Patroclus slain,
Seldom before could Trojan Armies boast,
So great a Conquest, with so little cost;
But that it pleas'd the Rulers of the deep,
Just in the nick Aeneas fell asleep;
The Grecians finding now that vain was force,
To Plots and Strategems they take recourse;
Calchas crys out all other means are vain;
But kill the King, and hinder Hector's reign:
Steal the Palladium from 'um, and beat down
The curst Religion that defends the Town,
And in it's stead we'l introduce our own:
We'l tell 'um that the Deity's the same,
And only differs in the form and name;
And Pallas (so she pleas'd her self) is grown
A Horse by Transubstantiation:
The Management of which we will Commit
To Diomed's valour and Ulisses wit;
T' Aeneas straight Ulisse's does repair,
And with this pleasing Musick Charms his Ear;
Illustrious Prince, great e'en by Birth design'd,
Which yet is far inferiour to thy mind;
Consult the Gods; th'art destin'd to enjoy
Scepters and Crowns (perhaps) though not in Troy
Apollo speaks Stupendious things to come,
An absolute Empire, and a Spiritual Rome;
Which shall extend her Sway to that Degree,
That Phrigia shall a petty Province be;
And what you value more, than all beside,
When you are Rotten, you'l be Deifi'd;
Let Troy then fall that does your Fate Controul,
And with the Name of Country Checks your Soul:
Let Priam dye, and let Palladium go;
To other Gods your Empire you must owe:
So great a worth as yours may well disdain
To live in Troy, and but the second Man;
And if you find any Resistance made,
Call in the Grecian Army to your Aid;
You freely shall command th'united powers;
Return but Hellen, all the rest be yours:
But as a Caution that you will be Just,
Only resign Palladium to our trust:
We'l Constitute new God-heads in her place,
While nobler Images your Temples Grace;
Well then, says he; trust to—and there he nods;
At first Encounter he deserts his Gods;
And then what Arguments can Reason bring,
To think He'l ere be faithful to the King.
The Foes disguis'd, to 'th Temple he conveys,
And to their hands the Guardian God betrays:
They strait retire, made happy by his Crime,
And more than all their Arms depend on him.
Just at this time Antenor in disgrace,
(For at the Councel-Board he lost his place)
Sits in his Closet in a pensive mood,
Just come from haranguing the Multitude,
A thousand projects forming in his mind,
All for the change of Government design'd;
Sometimes a making less unequal Laws,
Or seeking New Associates to his Cause;
Sometimes he damns his Politicks, that must
Depend upon the croud, he dares not trust;
Then seeks what Nobler Youths he can ensnare,
And make them in his desperate fortune share:
He needs no Motives to incite his rage,
Hopes of revenge does ev'n revive his age;
Nor will he any Foreign Force employ,
But make the Trojans their own selves destroy:
The spatious Name of Patriot he assumes,
And Mutiny with Liberty perfumes;
He envys Priam's Reign, and doubts his Right:
For all Dominion he does found in might:
He has consulted Wizards, and does find
A Commonwealth is to his Fate design'd:
Big with the hopes, he claims that Tract of Land,
Where Venice-Towers in time to come shall stand.
Long time ere this in Flames had Troy expir'd,
If either Faction had been singly fir'd;
Antenor now was zealously oppos'd,
Who hates Aeneas, and no hate was lost:
As when two different poysons you instil
In Men, though one correct the others Ill;
So that no Death immediately ensues,
Yet still the Body natural weaker grows:
Add to all this the Potent Foe without,
Who earnestly both Factions does promote;
Consider Priam aged and forlorn,
And Hector from his Fathers bosom torn:
While Pandarus and Paris rule the Court,
And Hellenus with Ellena doth sport,
VVhile Labienus is in Arms prefer'd,
And Troilus, the Chit, commands the Guard.
See on the shore a wondrous Machine rise,
And they pretend a Deities Advice;
Erected with prodigious pains and coft,
In satisfaction for Palladium lost;
A wondrous God indeed, which Chalcas fills,
With Forty thousand Mirmidons and Bills:
Aeneas first crys beat the Bulwarks down,
And entertain the Numen in the Town:
Down go the Walls, and down the Turrets go,
More than the Greeks in ten years Siege can do:
With eager haste each other they prevent,
And Joy to be in part the Instrument
To introduce a new Religion here,
But little apprehend the flames so near.
Laocoon chose for Neptunes Priest by Lot,
(Though after Ages swore he was a Sot)
Crys out, Look to your selves, it is a Plot;
Beware O Troy, and Thou O King, beware:
For twisted in one Thred your Fortunes are:
I saw the Consult in Achilles's Tent,
And when Ulisses into Ilium went,
I know Aeneas the Palladium sold,
I saw the Writings, and I felt the Gold:
Shame on the Priest Aeneas Creatures cry'd,
And these Impossibilities deride:
Your fabulous Story does it self destroy,
How cou'd you be at once in Greece and Troy?
But your a Priest, and therefore nere speak true:
Should we Believe Aeneas first or you?
Thus was the poor Apostle quite run down,
By all the Men of Arms and the long Gown:
But that which did the vulgar most perswade,
Strange Monsters from beyond the Seas invade
All those that durst presume to give him aid
Nay, when Antenors self did interpose,
He must be counted one of Priams Foes:
Your Loyalty has formerly been shown,
Discovering other Plots to hide your own;
But that which makes the Miracle more great,
Ev'n Priams self seems to promote the cheat:
He sleeps supinely on his tottering Throne,
Glad by permission to enjoy his own;
T'whom Troy for Ceremony does present
Her false Addresses to Aeneas meant:
Now ev'ry Theatre assumes his Name,
And the poor Regal Patronage disclaim;
The Men of Arms, that set the King at nought,
Adore the General under whom they fought:
They fear our Peace, because they thrive by War,
And in the Plunder of their Country share:
With these the Priestly Tribe are of a peice;
For more preferment may be had in Greece.
Some do Laocoon envy, some do hate;
But all the Holy Cowards fear his Fate,
Against these Torrents that come on amain,
In vain the wisest Citizens complain:
And poor Cassandra prophesies in vain:
For perjur'd Sinon that to Troy was come,
Pretending Injuries receiv'd at home,
At first was by Aeneas Favour Grac'd
And fatally by Priams self embrac'd;
Who wears the Golden Key upon his breast,
That from the Horse the numerous host releas'd.
Now Troy's no more, and wretched Priam dyes,
His Subjects Martyrs, he a Sacrifice;
To the old Market place the crouds retire,
And perish there by undistinguisht Fire:
The beautiful Polixena must dye,
T'appease a Cursed Loving Enemy;
Andromache must into Greece be Led,
And Captive touch a conquering Tyrants Bed;
But never of your Destiny complain,
For Hectors Widdow ev'n in Greece may reign.
But as the Tumult to the height did grow,
Antenor did escape we know not how;
Although all Greece by Compact was his Foe,
Aeneas safe through Ilium's Ruins goes,
Not the first Murderer fear'd so many Foes;
Ev'n Neptunes self his Enemy of late,
Endeavour'd to divert the Course of Fate;
And to revenge the Walls he favour'd most,
Shipwrack't the Traytor on the Lybyan Coast:
'Twas from this Land he got his Love mishap,
But after sleeping in fair Dido's Lap,
Who coud have Dreamt of such an After-Clap?
From hence to Rome the Miscreant Exile flys,
Depending most upon his Enemies;
His promis'd Empire he demands of Fate,
Neither regarding Subjects Love nor Hate:
Can Providence and such Injustice be?
No, Heav'n it self repents its own Decree:
Jove therefore by the Stygian Torrent swore,
No Traytor ere shoud find such Fortune more.

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