A BULL SENT BY POPE PIUS
To encourage the Traytors in England, pronounced against Queen Elizabeth, of ever glorious Memory; shewing the wicked designs of Popery.
SInce Constantine the Great, whose bounteous Hand,
Impow'rd Romes Prelates with such vast Command,
Ambition swells them, and they scarce think fit,
The World should hold the Seat whereon they sit.
Kings have their Footstools been, Imperial Crowns
Pounded to Attoms by their fatal frowns;
The unhing'd Nations topsie-turvy turn'd,
Clandestine Tumults, peaceful Cities burn'd;
With direful Plots unripp'd the Seams of State,
Murder'd their Kings, and Thrones laid desolate.
This blustring Monarch's Wings did Treason raise,
First from a Monk to gain an Abbots place;
From thence a Prior, next a Hat all red,
Declares with pride the blood himself has shed.
This poor distressed Monk thus drawn from's Cell,
At last storms Heaven, and breaks the Gates of Hell;
Eaths Pillars shakes, confines the terrene World,
In his conceit the Globe's on Rockets hurl'd;
And arrogates more power than he who made
Man out of Dust, And all this Structure laid:
To cloak which monstrous pride, Saint Peter's Hood
Is worn by him, though smear'd with Martyrs Blood,
Whose sacred Eyes ne're view'd a Martyrs doom,
Except his own when Crucified at Rome;
But his Successors, far more great than good,
Are flesh'd with slaughter, drunk with steeming blood.
These but the shade of that Succession be,
Yet dare pretend more Sanctity than he;
He ne're dispers'd horn'd Bulls, nor breath'd a Curse
Against the Lord's Anointed; no, nor worse,
Sent Villains out to murder peaceful Kings,
Indulg'd with Pardons tipp'd with Poyson Stings:
To silence all that dare defend, we will
Insert their own prepostrous Popish skill.
'Tis sure they'll not deny, or if they do,
The Nation knows their Negative's untrue.
A dreadful Sentence blown by Papal breath,
Against the great renown'd Elizabeth;
The glory of her Sex, whose Virgin Zone
Environ'd with mercy her establish'd Throne;
A Bull more fierce than those that Basan bred,
To push the Royal Crown from off her Head(
Discharge her Subjects, and Commotions raise,
To set the Nation in a Roman Blaze:
From Pius Quintus, and his daring Crew,
This Curse was sent, let Christians take a view.
The Bull against Queen Elizabeth.
1.
Pius Rome's Bishop, serving God on high,
To be remember'd to Eternity.
2.
Christ has appointed me Supreme, that none
Without my leave shou'd dare to mount a Throne:
Princes my Vassals are, their pow'r's from me;
I Kings depose, and set their Subjects free.
3.
Since Peter Rules the Church, my Pow'r is good;
He signs my Warrant, and I wear his Hood.
4.
I take all pains, and spare no labour, yet
The wicked do to such a number get;
They disanul the Dictates I Command,
And what's unjust, my sacred Rites withstand.
5.
First, Englands Queen has ta'ne the Mass away;
No Sacrifice, no Prayers, nor Fasting-day;
No choice of Meats, nor Law for single Lives,
Against my will the Clergie take them wives.
6.
She has Usurp'd the Kingdom, and maintains
Her self Supreme, and wrests from me the Rains
Of Ecclesiastick Government; the Land
Is almost drawn from my Pontifick Hand:
Obedience is deny'd, my Prelates sent
To strong Confinements, or to Banishment.
7.
She has removed all that stood for me,
And so displac'd the chief Nobility:
Of such Inferiour Men her Council's made,
As know not me, yet dare my Right Invade.
8.
My Rebels too of Flanders she receives;
Those I Command to dye, she still Reprieves.
9.
For these, and such like Crimes, we think it fit
Our Curse on her, and all that prompt her, light;
All those that durst our sacred Will controul,
From our dread Curse must Ransome back her Soul.
10.
By Deprivation here we put an end
To all the Rights, or Claims she cou'd pretend
Unto the Kingdom, whatsoe're they be;
To all her Power, and late Authority.
11.
We charge her Subjects, and command that none
Shall dare t'obey her, or defend her Throne;
'Tis sure damnation to 'em if they will
Yield Homage to her, or her Laws fulfill.
12.
All that the sacred [...]ond of Oaths have sign'd,
Or their Allegiance do's their Conscience bind,
We freely here discharge, and hold it true,
That from this time there's no obedience due:
For why, she is depos'd by our consent,
And quite suspended from her Government.
13.
Unquestionable is my Power, for I
Am Prince of Nations, and Enthron'd on high
Above the Powers, on me the Kingdoms wait;
I Kings set up, and excommunicate:
I Princes can deprive, and with my frown
Root Kingdoms up, and tumble Nations down:
I can discharge all Subjects Oaths, as well
I curse them can, and give them up to Hell.
My Power is boundless, and I'm like that God
That Rules on high, I bear his mighty Rod.
Thus haughty Man presumes, that is but Dust,
To blaspheme Heav'n: Thus Man that is unjust
Confronts his Maker, and conspires to be
His equal, both in Power and Majesty;
Assumes that greatness to himself alone,
That Saints, nor Angels dare not think upon.
Thus he deceives the World, and draws aside
The simple Soul, a Sacrifice to's pride;
And trains him up in cruel Massacres,
To murder Kings, and burn their Palaces;
Lay Cities low in Dust, no Treason spare,
Embroil the Nations in a Civil War;
Hatch bailful Plots, as secret as the shade,
And with deceit all guild their hellish Trade.
From such Dire Men good God protect our Land,
And save our King with thy preserving Hand;
Give him the power and strength, that he may still
Tread on the Necks of all that seek his ill.
FINIS.
London, Printed for D. M. 1678.
With Allowance.