For writing treason, and for writing dull; To die for faction is a common evil, But to be hanged for nonsense is the devil. Hadst thou the glories of thy king exprest, Thy praises had been satire at the best; But thou in clumsy verse, unlickt, unpointed, Hast shamefully defied the Lord's anointed. I will not rake the dunghill of thy crimes, For who would read thy life that reads thy rhymes? But of king David's foes, be this the doom, May all be like the young man Absalom; And, for my foes, may this their blessing be, To talk like Doeg, and to write like thee!" Achitophel each rank, degree and age, For various ends neglects not to engage; The wise and rich, for purse and counsel brought, The fools and beggars, for their number sought; Who yet not only on the town depends, For even in court the faction had its friends. These thought the places they possest too small, And in their hearts wished court and king to fall; Whose names the muse, disdaining, holds i' th' dark, Thrust in the villain herd without a mark; With parasites and libel-spawning imps, Intriguing fops, dull jesters, and worse pimps. Disdain the rascal rabble to pursue, Their set cabals are yet a viler crew. See where involved in common smoke they sit, Some for our mirth, some for our satire fit; These gloomy, thoughtful, and on mischief bent, While those for mere good fellowship frequent The appointed club, can let sedition pass, Sense, nonsense, any thing to employ the glass;[384] And who believe, in their dull honest hearts, The rest talk treason but to shew their parts; Who ne'er had wit or will for mischief yet, But pleased to be reputed of a set. But in the sacred annals of our plot, Industrious AROD[385] never be forgot; The labours of this midnight-magistrate May vie with Corah's to preserve the state. In search of arms he failed not to lay hold On war's most powerful dangerous weapon, gold. And last, to take from Jebusites all odds, Their altars pillaged, stole their very gods. Oft would he cry, when treasure he surprised, 'Tis Baalish gold in David's coin disguised. Which to his house with richer reliques came, While lumber idols only fed the flame; For our wise rabble ne'er took pains to enquire, What 'twas he burnt, so it made a rousing fire. With which our elder was enriched no more Than false Gehazi with the Syrian's store; So poor, that when our chusing-tribes were met, Even for his stinking votes he ran in debt; For meat the wicked, and, as authors think, The saints he choused for his electing drink; Thus every shift and subtle method past, And all to be no Zaken[386] at the last. Now, raised on Tyre's sad ruins, Pharaoh's pride Soared high, his legions threatning far and wide;