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 viewed such powerful engines bent, To batter down the lawful government. A numerous faction, with pretended frights, In Sanhedrims to plume the legal rights; The true successor from the court removed; The plot, by hireling witnesses, improved. These ills they saw, and, as their duty bound, They shewed 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 turned the plot to ruin church and state: The council violent, the rabble worse; That Shimei taught Jerusalem to curse. With all these loads of injuries opprest, 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.[289] Thus long, have I by native mercy swayed, My wrongs dissembled, my revenge delayed; 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.[290] 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 shew I am not good by force. Those heaped 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 Sampson will pretend a call To shake the column, let him share the fall:[291] 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! Poor, pitied youth, by my paternal care Raised up to all the height his frame could bear! Had God ordained his fate for empire born, He would have given his soul another turn: Gulled 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? His old instructor, ere he lost his place, Was never thought endued with so much grace. Good heavens, how faction can a patriot paint! My rebel ever proves my people's saint. Would they impose an heir upon the throne?