Or, if they should, it would but Heaven provoke. To hope for help from man would be too much, Mankind would always tell them of the Dutch; How they came here our freedoms to obtain, Were paid and cursed, and hurried home again; How by their aid we first dissolved our fears, And then our helpers damned for foreigners. ’Tis not our English temper to do better, For Englishmen think every man their debtor. ’Tis worth observing that we ne’er complained Of foreigners, nor of the wealth they gained, Till all their services were at an end. Wise men affirm it is the English way Never to grumble till they come to pay, And then they always think, their temper’s such, The work too little and the pay too much. As frightened patients, when they want a cure, Bid any price, and any pain endure; But when the doctor’s remedies appear, The cure’s too easy and the price too dear. Great Portland ne’er was bantered when he strove For us his master’s kindest thoughts to move; We ne’er lampooned his conduct when employed King James’s secret counsels to divide: Then we caressed him as the only man Which could the doubtful oracle explain; The only Hushai able to repel The dark designs of our Achitopel; Compared his master’s courage to his sense, The ablest statesman and the bravest prince. On his wise conduct we depended much, And liked him ne’er the worse for being Dutch. Nor was he valued more than he deserved, Freely he ventured, faithfully he served. In all King William’s dangers he has shared; In England’s quarrels always he appeared: The Revolution first, and then the Boyne, In both his counsels and his conduct shine; His martial valour Flanders will confess, And France regrets his managing the peace. Faithful to England’s interest and her king; The greatest reason of our murmuring. Ten years in English service he appeared, And gained his master’s and the world’s regard: But ’tis not England’s custom to reward. The wars are over, England needs him not; Now he’s a Dutchman, and the Lord knows what. Schomberg, the ablest soldier of his age, With great Nassau did in our cause engage: Both joined for England’s rescue and defence, The greatest captain and the greatest prince. With what applause, his stories did we tell! Stories which Europe’s volumes largely swell. We counted him an army in our aid: Where he commanded, no man was afraid. His actions with a constant conquest shine, From Villa-Viciosa to the Rhine. France, Flanders, Germany, his fame confess, And all the world was fond of him, but us. Our turn first served, we grudged him the command: Witness the grateful temper of the land. We blame the King that he relies too much On strangers, Germans, Hugonots, and Dutch, And seldom does his great affairs of state To English counsellors communicate. The fact might very well be answered thus: He has so often been betrayed by us, He must have been a madman to rely On English Godolphin’s fidelity. For, laying other arguments aside,