Here now denied all comforts due to life, His friends, His children, and his peerless wife; From Carisbrook He oft but vainly sends, And though first wrong'd, seeks to make you amends; For this He sues, and by His restless pen Importunes Your deaf ears to treat again. 400 Whilst the proud faction scorning to go less, [Sidenote: Jan. 3, 1647. Jan. 9, 1647.] Return those trait'rous votes of Non Address, Which follow'd were by th' Armies thund[e]ring To act without and quite against the King. Yet when that cloud remov'd, and the clear light Drawn from His weighty reasons, gave You sight Of Your own dangers, had not their intents [Sidenote: _Colchester Siege._] Retarded been by some cross accidents; Which for a while with fortunate suspense Check'd or diverted their swoll'n insolence: 410 When the whole Kingdom for a Treaty cried, Which gave such credit to Your falling side, [Sidenote: June 30, 1648. _Treaty Voted_, July 28, 1648.] That you recall'd those votes, and God once more Your power to save the Kingdom did restore; Remember how Your peevish Treators sate, Not to make peace, but to prolong debate; How You that precious time at first delay'd, And what ill use of Your advantage made, As if from Your foul hands God had decreed Nothing but war and mischief should succeed. 420 For when by easy grants the King's assent Did your desires in greater things prevent, When He did yield faster than You entreat, And more than modesty dares well repeat; Yet not content with this, without all sense Or of His honour or His conscience, Still you press'd on, till you too late descried, Twas now less safe to stay than be denied: For like a flood broke loose the armed rout, Then shut Him closer up, and shut You out, 430 Who by just vengeance are since worried By those hand-wolves You for his ruin bred. Thus like two smoking firebrands, You and They Have in this smother chok'd the Kingdom's day: And as you rais'd them first, must share the guilt, With all the blood in those distractions spilt. For though with Sampson's foxes backward turn'd (When he Philistia's fruitful harvest burn'd), The face of your opinions stands averse, All your conclusions but one fire disperse; 440 And every line which carries your designs, In the same centre of confusion joins. Though then the Independents end the work, 'Tis known they took their platform from the Kirk; Though Pilate Bradshaw with his pack of Jews, God's High Vice-gerent at the bar accuse; They but reviv'd the evidence and charge, Your pois'nous Declarations laid at large; Though they condemn'd or made his life their spoil, You were the setters forc'd him to the toil: 450 For you whose fatal hand the warrant writ, The prisoner did for execution fit;