The conspiracy of Aeneas & Antenor against the state of Troy a poem.

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. FINIS.