Garnets ghost, addressing to the Jesuits, met in private Caball, just after the murther of Sir Edmund-Bury Godfrey written by the author of The satyr against virtue (not yet printed). Oldham, John, 1653-1683. 1679 Approx. 19 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 3 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2003-05 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A53287 Wing O235 ESTC R32248 12572572 ocm 12572572 63522 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A53287) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 63522) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1022:19) Garnets ghost, addressing to the Jesuits, met in private Caball, just after the murther of Sir Edmund-Bury Godfrey written by the author of The satyr against virtue (not yet printed). Oldham, John, 1653-1683. 4 p. s.n., [London : 1679] In verse. Caption title. Imprint suggested by Wing and NUC pre-1956 imprints. First edition. The author'a first satyr upon the Jesuits. - NUC pre-1956 imprints. Reproduction of original in the Cambridge University Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. Gap elements of known extent have been transformed into placeholder characters or elements to simplify the filling in of gaps by user contributors. 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Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng Godfrey, Edmund Berry, -- Sir, 1621-1678. Jesuits. 2002-12 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2003-02 SPi Global Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2003-03 Mona Logarbo Sampled and proofread 2003-03 Mona Logarbo Text and markup reviewed and edited 2003-04 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion GARNETS GHOST , Addressing to the Jesuits , met in private Caball , just after THE MURTHER OF Sir Edmund-Bury Godfrey . Written by the Author of the Satyr against Virtue , ( not yet Printed . ) BY hell 't was bravely done , what less then this ; What Sacrifice of meaner worth , and price ; Could we have offer'd up for our success ? So fare all they who dare provoke our hate ; Who by like ways presume to tempt their fate ▪ Fare each , like this bold medling fool , and be As well cur'd , as well dispatch'd as he . Would he were here , yet warm , that we might drain His reeking gore , and drink up every vein : That were a glorious Sanction ; much like thine , Great Roman , made upon a like design . Like thine ? we scorn so mean a Sacrament , To seal and consecrate our high intent , We scorn base blood should our great league cement . Thou didst it with a Slave , but we think good To bind our Treason with a bleeding God. Would it were His ; why should I fear to name , Or you to hear 't ? at which we nobly aim . Lives yet that hated enemy of our cause ? Lives he our mighty projects to oppose ? Can his weak innocence , and heavens care , Be thought security from what we dare , Are ye then Iesuits , are you so for nought ? In all the Catholique depths of Treason taught : In Orthodox , and solid poysoning read ; And each profounder Art of killing bred : And can you fail or bungle in your trade ? Shall one poor life your cowardise upbraid ? Tame dastard slaves , who your profession shame , And fix disgrace on your great Founders name . Think what late S●●tries ( and ignoble crew , Not worthy to be rank'd in sin with you ) Inspir'd with lofty wickedness durst do . How from his Throne , they hurl'd a Monarch down And bravely eas'd him of his life and Crown : They scorn'd , in Covert , their bold Art to hide , In open face of Heaven the work they did ; And dar'd its vengeance , and its powers defy'd . This is his Son , and mortal too like Him : Durst you usurp the glory of the crime . And dare ye not ? I know you 〈◊〉 to be , By such as they , outdone in villany● ( Your proper province ) true , you urg● th●n on , Were Engins in the ●act ; but they alone Share all the Open credit and Renown . But hold , I wrong our Church & cause , which need No foreign Instance ; nor what Others did . Think on that matchless Assassin , whose name , We with just pride can make our happy claim ; He who at killing of an Emperour , To give 〈◊〉 poyson stronger force and power , Mixt a G●● with 't and made it work more sure . Blest me●ory , which shall through age to come Stand s●●red in the lists of Hell and Rome . Let ou● great Clement , and Ravillia'cs name , Your ●●irits to like height of sin inflame . Those mighty souls , who each durst bravely dye , To h●ve a Royal Ghost their company . Her●●●ck Art ! and worth their tortures well , W●●● worth the suffering of a double-hell : Th●t they felt here , and that below they fell : A●d if these cannot move you as you shou'd , 〈◊〉 me and my example fire your blood , ●●ink what I durst attempt ; a glorious deed , Which durst the fates have suffer'd to succeed , ●ad Rivall'd hells most proud exploit and boast ; ●v'n that which would the King of fates depos'd . Curst be that day , and nere in time enrold ; And curst the star , whose spightfull influence rul'd , The luckless minute which my project spoild . What mean't that power , which of it self afraid , My glory , with my brave design betray'd ? Was 't that he fear'd lest I who strook so high , In guilt , should next blow up his Realm and sky ? Or if that fail'd , at least I would have durst , And missing had got off with Fame at worst . Had you but half my daringness in sin , Your work had never thus unfinish'd been : Had I been Man , and the great Act to do , I 'ad dy'd by this , and been what I am Now ; Or what his Father is ; I would leap hell ●o reach his life , though in the midst I fell ; And deeper then before . — Let rabble souls , of narrow aim and reach ; Stoop their vile necks , and dull Obedience preach . ●et them with slavish awe , disdain'd by me : Adore the purple Rag of Majesty , And think 't a sacred Relick of the sky . Well may such fools be subject to controul ; ●o every scepter'd wretch that dares but rule : Unlike the soul with which , proud I was born ; Who could that sneaking thing , a Monarch scorn ; ●purn off a Crown , and set my foot in sport , Upon the head that wore it , trod in dirt . But say , what i' st that binds your hands ? does fear , ●rom such a glorious action , you deter ? Or i' st Religion ? but you sure disclaim That frivolous pretence , that empty Name : Meer bugbear word , devis'd by us to scare The senceless rout to slavishness and fear , Nere known to awe the brave and those that dare . ●uch weak , and feeble things may serve for checks , To reign and curb base mettl'd Hereticks : Dull creatures , whose nice bogling consciences , Startle , or strain at such like crimes as these . Such whom fond inbred honesty befools ▪ Or their old musty peice the Bible Gulls . That hated book , the Bullwark of our foes , Whereby they still uphold their tott'ring cause , Let no such toys mislead you from the Road Of glory , nor infect your souls with good , Let never bold incroaching virtue dare , With her grim holy face to enter there . No , not in very dream , have only will Like fiends and me , to Act and covet Ill. Let true substantial wickedness take place , Usurp , and reign , let it the very trace , If any yet be left of good , deface . If ever qualms of inward cowardice , ( The thing which some dull sots call Conscience ) rise , Make them in streams of blood and slaughter drown , Or with new weights of guilt still press them down ▪ Faith , shame , Religion , Honour , Loyalty , Nature it self , what ever checks there be , To loose and uncontroul'd Impiety , Be all extinct in you ; own no remorse , But that you 've balk'd a sin ; have been no worse , Or too much pity shew'd . — Be diligent in mischiefs trade ; be each Performing as a devil , nor stick to reach , At crimes most dangerous , where bold despair , And heedless blind Revenge , would never dare To look ; March you , without a blush or fear . Enflam'd by all the hazards that oppose , And firm as burning Martyrs to our cause , Then you 're true Jesuites ; then you 're fit to be Disciples of great Loyola and me : Worthy to undertake , worthy a plot Like this , and fit to scourge an Hugenot . Plagues on that name , may swift confusion seize And utterly blot out that cursed Race : Thrice damn'd be your Apostate Monk from whom Sprung first these Enemies of Vs and Rome . Whose poysonous filth dropt from ingendring brain , By monstrous birth did the vile Insects spawn ; Which now infect each Countrey , and defile With their o'respreading swarms this goodly Isle , Once it was ours , and subject to our yoke , Till a late reigning witch the Enchantment broke . It shall again , 't is Hell and I decree , If you but dare make good the prophecy , Not fate it self shall hinder . — Too sparing was the time , too milde the day , When our great Mary , bore the English sway ; Un-queen-like pitty marr'd her Royall Power , Nor was her purple dy'd enough in gore . Four or five hundred , some such petty sum , Might fall perhaps a sacrifice to Rome : Scarce worth the naming ; Had I had the power Or been thought fit to be her Councellor : She should have raised it to a noble score . Big Bonefires have blazed ; shone each day , To tell our triumph , and make bright our way . And when 't was dark in every lane and street , Thick flaming Hereticks should serve to light ; And save the needless charge of Links by night . Smithfield should still have kept a constant fire , Which never should be quench'd , never expire ; But with the Lives of all the miscreant rout , Till the last gasping breath had blown it out . So Nero did ; such was his prudent course Us'd too by all his mighty successours , To tame like Hereticks of old , by force . They scorn'd dull reason , and pedantick Rules ; To conquer , and reduce the hardned fools : Racks , Gibbets , Halters , were their Arguments , Which did most undeniably convince . Gray-bearded Lyons , manag'd the dispute , And Reverend Bears their doctrines did confute : And all who durst hold out in stiff defence , They gently claw'd , and worry'd into sence . Better then all our Sorbon dotards now , Who would by dint of words our foes subdue . This was the rigid Discipline of Old , Which modern sots for Persecution hold . Of which dull Annalises in story tell Strange Legends , and huge bulky volums swell With Martyr'd fools , that lost their way to hell . From these our Churches glorious Ancestors , We 've learnt our Arts , and made their methods ours . Nor have we come behind the first degree , In Arts of rough and manly Cruelty . Converting faggots , and the powerfull stake , And sword resistless our Apostles make . This heretofore Bohemia felt , and thus Were all the numerous proselites of Huss Crusht with their head ; so Waldo's cursed rout , With those of Wickliff here were routed out : Their names scarce left ▪ sure were the means we chose , And wrought prevailingly ; fire purg'd the dross Of those foul heresies , and sovereign steel Lopt off the infected Limbs , the Church to heal . Renown'd was that French brave , renown'd his deed ; A deed , for which the day deserves its Red ; Far more , then for a paltry S'aint that dy'd . How goodly was the sight , how fine the show , When Paris saw through all its Channels flow The blood of Huganots ; when the full Sein Swell'd with the flood , its Banks with joy o'reran . He scorn'd like Common Murtherers to deal By parcels , and peice-meal ; he scorn'd retail , Th' trade of death ; whole myriads dy'd by th' great , Soon as one single life , so quick their fate , Their very prayers and wishes came too late . This a King did , and great and Mighty 't was ; Worthy his high degree , and power and place , And worthy our Religion and our Cause , Unmatch'd 't had been , had not Macquire arose . The bold Macquire ; ( who read in modern fame Can be a stranger to his worth and name ? ) Born to out-sin a Monarch ; born to Reign In guilt , and all competitors disdain . Dread memory ! whose each mention still can make Pale Hereticks with trembling horror quake . T' undo a Kingdome , to atcheive a Crime Like his , who would not fall , and dye like him ? Never had Rome a nobler service done ; Never had Hell , each day came thronging down Vast shoals of Ghosts , and mine was pleas'd and glad , And smil'd , when it the brave Revenge survey'd . Nor do I mention these great Instances , For bounds and limits to your wickedness . Dare you , beyond , something out of the road Of all example ; where none yet have trod , Nor shall hereafter : what mad Catiline Durst never think nor 's madder poet feign . Make the poor buffled pagan-fool to own , How far in gallant mischief overcome , The old must yield to new and modern Rome . Mix I'lls past , present , future in one Act , One high , one brave , one great , one glorious fact : Which hell and even I may envy . — Such as that Iove himself may wish to be , A complice in the mighty villany , And barters Heaven , and vouchsafe to dye . Nor let delay ( the bain of enterprize ) Mar yours , or make the great importance miss . This fact hath wak'd your Enemies , and their fear , Let it be your vigour too , be swift to dare ; Hasten , and let your deeds forestall intent ; Forstall e'vn wishes , ere they can take vent ; Nor give the fates the leisure to prevent . Let the full clouds which a long time did wrap Your gathering Thunder , now with sudd●in Clap , Break out upon your foes ; dash , and confound , And scatter wide destruction all a round : Let the fir'd Citty to your plot give light , You ras'd it half before , now rase it quite : Do 't more effectually ; I 'd have it glow In flames unquenchable as those below . I 'd see the miscreants with their houses burn , And both together into Ashes turn . Bend next your fury to the curst Divan ; That damn'd Committee , whom the fates ordain , To all our well laid Plots to be the bane . Unkennel those State foxes where they lye , Working your speedy fate and destiny . Lug by the ears the doting Prelates thence ; Dash Heresy together with their Brains Out of their shattered heads ; lop off the Lords And Commons at one stroke , and let your swords Adjourn 'em all to th' other world . — Would I were blest with flesh and blood again , But to be Actor in that happy scene : Yet still I may be by ▪ and glut my view , Revenge shall take its fill , in state I 'le go With Captive Ghosts t' attend me down below . Let these the handsells of your vengeance be , Yet stop not here , nor flag in cruelty , Kill like a Plague or Inquisition ; spare No age , degree , or sex : only to dare To own a life ; only a soul to wear . Be crime enough to lose no time nor place , Be sanctuary from your outrages . Spare not in Churches , kneeling Priests at prayer ; The interceding for you , slay e'en there : Spare not young Infants smiling at the breast , Who from relenting fools may mercy wrest . Rip teeming wombs , tear out the hatred brood From thence , and drown them in their mothers blood . Pitty not Virgins , nor their tender cryes , The postrate at your feet with melting eyes : All drown'd in tears , strike home as 't were in lust , And force their hands to guide the fatal thrust . Ravish at the Altar , kill when you have done ; Make them your Rapes and Victims too in one . Nor let gray hoary hairs protection give To Age , just crawling on the verge of life : Snatch from his leaning hands their weak support , And with it knock't into the Grave in sport . Brain the poor Cripple with his crutch , then cry , Yo 've kindely rid him of his misery . Seal up your ears to mercy ; lest their words Should tempt a pity , ram 'em with your swords , ( Their tongues too ) down their throats ; let them not dare To mutter for their souls a gasping prayer , But choak't in th' utterance , and stab it there . 'T were witty handsome malice could you do 't ) To make 'em dye , and make 'em damn'd , to boot . Make children , by one fate with Parents dye , Kill in revenge , the next posterity : You 'l so be pester'd with no Orphans cry , No Childless Mothers curse your Memory . Make death and desolation swim in blood , Throughout the Land , with nought to stop the flood But slaughter'd Carcasses , till the whole Isle Become one Tomb , become on Funeral Pile . Till such vast numbers swell the countless sum , That the wide grave , and wider hell want room , Great was that tyrants wish , which should be mine , Did I not scorn the leavings of a sin . Freely I would bestow 't on England now , That the whole Nation with one neck might grow , To be slic'd off , and you to give the blow . What never Saxon rage could ere inflict , Nor Danes more savage , nor the barbrous Pict ; What Spain , nor Eighty eight could ere devise , With all its fleet , and fraught of cruelties : What Medina nere wisht , much less could dare , And bloodier Alva would with trembling hear ; What may outdo all prodigies of old , And make their milder cruelties untold : What Heavens Judgments , nor the angry stars , Forreign Invasions , nor Dome●●ck wars ; Plague , Fire nor Famine could effect or do ; All this , and more , be dar'd and done by you . But why do I with id'ler talk delay , Your hands , and while they should be acting stay ? Farewell . — If I may waft a prayer for your success . Hell be your aid , and your high projects bless . May that vile wretch , if any here they be , That meanly shrinks from brave Iniquity ; If any dare feel pity or remorse , May he feel all I 've bid you act , and worse : May he by rage of foes unpittied fall , And they tread out his hated Soul to hell , May's name and carcasse rot , expos'd alike to be , An everlasting mark of grinning Infamy . FINIS .