The royall missive to the Prince of VVales, being the letter of K. Charles I. : in part metrically paraphrased, for essay vnto the rest / by Ri. VVatson. Watson, Richard, 1612-1685. 1660 Approx. 23 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 9 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2011-12 (EEBO-TCP Phase 2). A79078 Wing C2765A ESTC R204015 99895561 99895561 153113

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. A79078) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 153113) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 2972:7b, 2347:21) The royall missive to the Prince of VVales, being the letter of K. Charles I. : in part metrically paraphrased, for essay vnto the rest / by Ri. VVatson. Watson, Richard, 1612-1685. Charles I, King of England, 1600-1649. Charles II, King of England, 1630-1685. 16 p. By Claude Le Blanc, Printed at Caen : M. DC. LX. [1660] In verse. Copy at reel 2972:7b bound and filmed following: "The royall votarie laying dovvne svvord and shield, to take up prayer and patience, the devout practice, of His sacred Maiesty K. Charles I. in his solitudes & sufferings" (Wing W1094A, 2972:7a). Reproduction of original in the Henry E. Huntington Library.

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eng Great Britain -- History -- Commonwealth and Protectorate, 1649-1660 -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. 2020-09-21 Content of 'availability' element changed when EEBO Phase 2 texts came into the public domain 2010-07 Assigned for keying and markup 2010-07 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2010-10 Sampled and proofread 2010-10 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2011-06 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

THE ROYALL MISSIVE TO THE PRINCE OF VVALES, BEING THE LETTER OF K. CHARLES I.

IN PART METRICALLY PARAPHRASED, FOR ESSAY VNTO THE REST.

BY RI. VVATSON.

Printed AT CAEN, By CLAVDE LE BLANC. M.DC.LX.

To the Prince of VVales. SON, If my Papers at your hand arrive, Wherein by Conſcience Counſell I contrive; Rallie my private thoughts, and in array My forces ready for your march diſplay, Proof-armed, & by ſound Experience taught How to keep ground, retreate, how to aſſau't; Advance yours by my Iudgement to the field, Where Piety muſt be your ſword and shield; Guide you in fight, and parlie, to redreſſe What now doe's, or hereafter may, you preſſe. I wing the heavie Houres, and cleare the skie From the cloud of reſtraint and injurie; Through my immantled ſoul ſee brighter day Then's usherd by the meſſenger of May, In theſe light ſtreaming lines, which o're the hill Shew me your future triumph by my skill, When neither Son, nor Subject, ſure, will gueſſe The meaſure of the Caeuſe by my ſucceſſe, Convinc'd by yours; nor in opinion ſtate My Iudgement, as my Warre, unfortunate. So, yet more thought ſo for your ſake, & theirs, With my ſelfe Rivalls, you my Love's coheires; The weights of whoſe afflictions preſſe me downe Deeper in ſenſe, and ſadneſſe, then mine owne, From a falſe title to my ſuffering, Becauſe I am your father, and their King. But from moſt Princes have you Wiſdome's priſe Won, by encountring early miſeries; And with deare-bought Experience crown'd thoſe yeeres Spent in beguiling pleaſures by your Peeres; Practis'd your armes, and patience exercis'd; So that by no Chance can you be ſurpris'd, For want of Iudgement's guard, in your eſcape Secure, taught future cautele by my rape. In this black ſcile, & ſeaſon, doe you plant Politike Vertues, manure Morall, dant Slow Expectation; turne Ioy into Rage At full grow'n Piety in pupillage. So shoot up winter-ſcians, more ſtreight, & cleane, Then in warme Sun-shine ſet, or times ſerene. In dayes of peace and plenty Princes courts No Paradiſes are, but Scenes of ſports, Where Vertue take's no root, & Pleaſure weave's But Honour's counterfeit in ſilken leaves; Frame's language to put off, with diſrepute, Empty formalities for reall fruit, That ſterve the Publike, to which Kings ſonnes Knowe Their yeares, by birth, and Providence, they owe. That Royall couple, by the ſacred pen Recorded, neither Kings alike, nor men, Give's us a proſpect of th' inchanting power, Which blowe's the Grādſire's, blaſt's ye Nephew's flower. The Paraphraſt here take's the liberty of ſome enlargement out of ſacred Hiſtorie.The ſon of Ieſſe that ſtep't firſt with his sling Toward the Court and tite of a King, Met, though the Giant fell by the ſmall ſtone, Troups of Miſs-fortunes for that happy one; Steep mountaines climb'd for a concealing clowd, And in darke caves did Innocency shrowd, Vntill, fledg'd in afflictions, and high-flow'n He fetch't from Heav'n the laurell with his Crown, Maintaind by ſword and Vertue, but entail'd To one who, fraught with Wiſdome, by Will ſail'd; Become heire of vaſt wealth, & war-got leiſure, Traffiq't for new-found fancies, unknow'n pleaſure; Chang'd th' iron Chariot for an ivory Throne; On ſilver trod inſtead of ſand and ſtone; Walk't under bending Cedars claſp't with gold, While globes of Incenſe through his Palace roll'd; As many wives and women had, as wishes; More tables furnish't, then his father dishes. His ships, witharmes, and horſes, plough'd ye Maine, Brought Apes too, and ye bird with ſtarry traine. The Infant heire, in beds of softeſt downe, Slept out the boding ſorrowes of a Crowne; Chapletts of roſes bound his youthfull brow, While wine and joyes his bowles did overflow; Intrancing muſike dayly charm'd his eare; In ſtreames of oyle and whiſpers did he heare All sycophantike language, not once told, The yong Prince, as yong Peaſant, muſt grow old. In theſe rich ſofts & ſweets Rehoboam bred His honour, peace, and Crowne, halfe forfeited To his green Sages rashnes, and thoſe flies That stick to glorious Princes with preſs'd thighes And cripled knees, much like ſuch ſummer creatures As in ripe fruit deſtroy the faireſt features, Till Autumne's chaſing blaſts do 'em diſſeiſe, As a miſs-fortune ſpied give's wings to theſe. I had rather (which my Heart ſpeake's by my Hand) That you should Charles le Bon be, then le Grand; Yet I, hope, deſtin'd to my Royall ſeat, God will both Charles the good make, and ye Great, Call'd in the dawning of your Age, to try With Nature's Champions Grace's chivalry; And by Heav'n's influence ſubdue the miſts That to delude your ſenſe poſſeſſe the liſts; The guerdon to which conqueſt of your mind, Will be, to have it ſteadily inclin'd To the imployment of thoſe ſacred powers Deſcended on you with the blooming Howers, By their full ſtrength and luſter to maintaine Your peoples wellfare, & their love to gaine. With God begin and end, whoſe Vaſſalls are, All Kings, each ſcepter ſubject to ſome ſtarre, Wherein its Fortune wind's or low, or high, By an eccentrike regularitie, Till, at accomplish'd numbers, it the ſame With ſilent thunder ſtrikes, or unſeen flame, Which a lowd ſummon is, and blazing light, For him to reach a Crowne, that ha's no right, Whom the Diſpoſer Soveraigne may too Give a short turne, and then eternize you; For all the Kings and Kingdomes of the World Are by him calmed, or in tempeſts hurld; And crownes in lines deſcend not, nor are given, But by Fate wrap't up in the fold of Heaven. The higheſt Monarchie you can attaine Is, to account ye World's, your Soveraigne; That you may copie right the Royall Are By the ſway of his ſcepter in your heart, That ſcepter which by word proclaime's his will, By ſpirit incline's gently to fullfill. Princes true glory is God's to advance In holy worship, and Church maintenance; By ciuile power to oblige or releaſe, With juſtice, honour, dues to publike Peace. Auſpicious Votes payd at the Altar may Vnveile your Morning for a glorious Day; At leaſt keep up the cloud before her eyes From breaking ſtormes, dethroning Miſeries; Though with the VVretched shall I not enroll Him that, ye field & Crowne loſt, ſave's his ſoul. Vnto which center of true Happineſſe, I truſt, the All-directour doe's addreſſe Theſe black lines of Affliction, from each arch Of Miſerie's circumference that march Through my ſoul's circlet, & me captive lead To Conqueſt, where, turn'd rayes, they'll deck my head. You have allready Kis't the Cup, but I Have congies quaff't of King-calamitie, Which though it in the hollow of each veine A tempeſt beate, and sympathetike paine Raiſe in my Spirits Palace, yet I call Heav'n's Panace or ſafe Antimoniall. Before all, if not, as Hope ſuggeſt's, done, Ground a firme Quadrate for Religion, On which no slight Shaft or Pillaſter ſet, With the late-fancied foliage, or fret; But ſuch as English Architects have told Supported the Church Aedifice of old, When Rome on no Grotiſque, or Antike, ſtood, But on Heav'n's Atlas, aChriſt on the Croſſe, and the holy Martyrs that ſupported the Primitive Church by their ſufferings. Coloſſe of blood; Greece not in ruines, and amazement, lay, The marble ſoftned by her teares to clay Which Ancient Pile of Glory I beſt thought By the Britannike Modellers new - wrought, Wherein you have beauteous proportions ſeen With others eyes, but now muſt judge between Conſcience and Cuſtome, with your Reaſon try What Fayth can reach short of Credulity. So shall the choice be yours, not, as before, The practice, on mine, or the Bishops, ſcore. In it, thus rais'd, I charge you perſevere, As the divineſt Oracles moſt neare Approaching, for pure doctrine, & the Prime Church order drawing downe to moderne time, Somewhat amended, which I often have Expreſs'd, and offer'd, but none hearing gave. That you should fixed in Religion be, Ha's no more uncontroll'd neceſſitie For your ſoul's, then your Kingdomes laſting peace, When your warres, & now - forced travailes, ceaſe. Since the rebellious Devill, turne Divine, And in shape of Reforming Angels shine. Now the old gliding Serpent goe's upright, Pretending from darke shades to new - ſprung light. When Conſcience Faction and ſedition cries, Sone with Religion ſtop her mouth, and Lies; When Piety Patience pleades, and Peace, their peal Of Fury ring's, out nought but Armes and Zeale; So that unleſſe the root well - earthed bee, The Wind, that ſeeme's to kiſſe, will shake, the Tree. Nor shall you want Religion's tempting powers To Reforme, that is, Ruine you and yours: For when the worſt in treaſon would combine, They find nought better blancheth the deſigne, Where, beſide new invention, which affect's The vulgar changing fancies, each project's Himſelfe a share in the Great Worke, the name Of a Reformer, to conceale his shame, Which, ſelf-convicted turne's to impudence Of cenſure, with feign'd zeale out-fa ing ſeaſe. What by your judgement, and the Church, is ſet Religion's ſtandard, vindicate; abet No Partiſans of faction, nor relieve The plaintiffe Schiſmatike, th'accus'd to grieve. Head no disjointed Members, nor adhere ToBy privilegiates are meant ſuich as claime priviledge or exē ption from thepublike eſtabliſſement; and vvould have the King's countenance againſt him ſelfe. Privilegiates, in hope, or feare; For the complying hearts, you gaine, are ſuch As, when you in Religion ben will crouch, While the more upright Votaries impute, That you their fayth deſpriſe, them perſecute. With charity, and calmneſſe, recompoſe Impartially divided ſpirits, but thoſe That upon intereſt Rebellion raiſe, Out of Church-ruines to repaire decaies, Chaſtiſe by Iuſtice, or with forces ſcatter, So neither Faction need you feare, or flatter; For if their courteſie your want, my Son, I antedate your doome, You are undone, If Innocence miſtake her mate, in love Bill with the Serpent, He'll devoure ye Dove. None wil you finde leſſe loyall, juſt, humane, Then Rebells that Religion's name prophane; All their demands, and actions, which ſurmount Reaeſon, or rule, they place to Gods account; Vnder whoſe Colours, and Heav'n's Canopie, Ambition marcheth, with slie Policie, Secure and confident of the applauſe Common Devotion offer's to God's Cauſe. Thus may you from their covenanted Bands Heave Iacob's voice, but shall feel Eſau's hāds. England leſſe no uſurping Faction fear'd, Of late yeares, then Presbyterie, which appear'd Moſt Saintly modeſt, humbly retrograde From their forefathers boldneſſe to invade; Nor, when they moſt in Conſiſtorie ſate, Could they ſtrike terrour in my Church, or State; But ſince phantaſtike Frowardneſſe divides My double - byaſs'd People into ſides, As corrupt Humours, fond ſome Fever's name To get, meet in full furie to inflame: So doe's each ſcatter'd diſcontented Paſsion Here rendezvous, ſome in choice, ſome for fashion, While this New Light, shot from the Northerne ſtarre, Religion guide's, by Parliament, to Warre. At firſt the pettie Factions were the ſuite Of this great Rabbi, crouch'd & kiſs'd his feet, Till Time experience gave, & Warre's ſucceſſe Leiſure to ſearch, diſcoverie to gueſſe Each at peculiar int'reſt, that invite's To divide ſpoyles, and ſequeſter'd delights; To breake Religion's ſtock for a new Trade By partie-profits, or preferments, made; This to Church ruine, and Republike, wrought; And on Presbyterie ſelf - confuſion brought; Dash'd his firſt hopes, when choſen Generall, He mean't no sharing ſtakes, but ſweoping all. Have nothing deſpicable in your eye That threaten's the Church-peace or Piety; Errours, and ſchiſmes, preſented from a farre But as Night - cloud - foyles for Heaven's brightfac't ſtarre, Chace from your Church-horizon, and diſpell, By early cenſure, each to its darke cell, Leſt what ſeeme's a petitionarie hand Or'ecloud you, ſpread into an Armed Band. The Temple cleanſed, and ye Altars dreſs'd, Religion preſerv'd, beautified, profeſs'd; To God, his Church, your Soul, due juſtice done; Truth, though betweē two crucified, kep't one; Aſcend your high Tribunal, judge each cauſe By your inheritance, the Kingdome's lawes: For as your great Fate in that Orbe doth roll, So your good Ruling-ſtarre turne's on this pole, Whoſe mixed influence may wonder bring, That ſet's your Subject free, yet keepe's you King, If you know true Prerogative's to have A happy people Servant, no poore Slave; Whoſe ſafety, peace, and property preſerv'd, Import's no pamper'd Body, with Head ſterv'd. Ingenuous Liberty doe's not reſtraine The right - hand priviledge to hold the reigne, Fed with the fruits of a joint care, 'tis meant You guide they draw, the Chariot, by conſent. Charge not your head with ſuch a maſſie Crowne, As ſinke's the body and ſupporters downe, From which nor ſtrength, nor honour, can you have, Nor hope they 'll riſe from ruine you to ſave. Beſt may you Royalty from rumours quit, When you intend not rigour, but remit; For while by juſtice you oppreſſe, not awe, You play the Tyrant with a ruling Lawe. The cenſure of the raving VVorld to me Is no reproach, ſo I a Martyr be, And ſuch I am, who ſuffer, to maintaine Fix't Lawes, ſet - VVorship of my Soveraigne; Naught elſe my Kingdome - troublers can object But that theſe from their changes I protect; That I preferre the Oracles, I found By ſun - rayes writ, to darke dreames they propound; And shall, till better Reaſon me perſwade Then Tumults, Armies, Priſons, which invade. I can not yet that uncouth leſſon learne, Nor you, I hope, when at the Kingdome's ſterne, That it is ſafe for us Kings to recant Our Lawes for Faction's violence, or taunt; O , for their feigned courteſie, unfold Thoſe ſacred sheetes, where VViſdome hath enroll'd The Publike Intereſt, and gratifie VVith new Indentures raz'd Communitie. VVhat, to alleviate my preſſing weights, Heav'n may contrive; how to enlarge my ſtreights; How it will croſſe unnaturall intents Of Hands, becoming Heads of Jnſtruments; How into order ſuch confuſion bring; Reduce to ſubject each become halfe-King; I can't determine, nor will take much care How in the hands of unjuſt men I fare, VVhile in the Empire of my ſoul I hold Juſtice by God and Conſcience uncontroll'd. VVhat Reaſon, Honour, Conſcience, could permit To my conceſſion, I indulged it, All ſtrain'd atlength by offers to Reforme Regarding onely ſafety in the ſtorme; Or'e-nice in no reſerves, but where conſent Muſt needs betray all due meanes to prevent Irreparable violences to My ſoul, the Church, my People, Son, & you, VVho in the iſſues of my Grants have share, As of my Kingdomes next undoubted heire.

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