They, like the unequal ruler of the day,[72] 910 Misguide the seasons, and mistake the way; While he withdrawn, at their mad labours smiles, And safe enjoys the sabbath of his toils. These were the chief, a small but faithful band Of worthies, in the breach who dared to stand, And tempt the united fury of the land: With grief they view'd such powerful engines bent, To batter down the lawful government. A numerous faction, with pretended frights, In Sanhedrims to plume the regal rights; 920 The true successor from the court removed; The plot, by hireling witnesses, improved. These ills they saw, and, as their duty bound, They show'd the King the danger of the wound; That no concessions from the throne would please, But lenitives fomented the disease: That Absalom, ambitious of the crown, Was made the lure to draw the people down: That false Achitophel's pernicious hate Had turn'd the Plot to ruin church and state: 930 The council violent, the rabble worse: That Shimei taught Jerusalem to curse. With all these loads of injuries oppress'd, And long revolving in his careful breast The event of things, at last his patience tired, Thus, from his royal throne, by Heaven inspired, The god-like David spoke; with awful fear, His train their Maker in their master hear. Thus long have I, by native mercy sway'd, My wrongs dissembled, my revenge delay'd: 940 So willing to forgive the offending age; So much the father did the king assuage. But now so far my clemency they slight, The offenders question my forgiving right: That one was made for many, they contend; But 'tis to rule; for that's a monarch's end. They call my tenderness of blood, my fear: Though manly tempers can the longest bear. Yet, since they will divert my native course, 'Tis time to show I am not good by force. 950 Those heap'd affronts that haughty subjects bring, Are burdens for a camel, not a king. Kings are the public pillars of the state, Born to sustain and prop the nation's weight: If my young Samson will pretend a call To shake the column, let him share the fall: But oh, that yet he would repent and live! How easy 'tis for parents to forgive! With how few tears a pardon might be won From nature, pleading for a darling son! 960 Poor, pitied youth, by my paternal care, Raised up to all the height his frame could bear! Had God ordain'd his fate for empire born, He would have given his soul another turn: Gull'd with a patriot's name, whose modern sense Is one that would by law supplant his prince; The people's brave, the politician's tool; Never was patriot yet, but was a fool. Whence comes it, that religion and the laws Should more be Absalom's than David's cause? 970