%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> THE / DELIQUIUM: / OR, / The Grievances of the Nation / DISCOVERED / IN A DREAM. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 07/02/2014 32739

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

R20140 FRom Evenings Coffee, lac'd with long Argument / Of the Kings Power and Rights of Parliament, Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 405 1: 405 THE / DELIQUIUM: / OR, / The Grievances of the Nation / DISCOVERED / IN A DREAM. THE DELIQUIUM: OR, The Grievances of the Nation DISCOVERED IN A DREAM. THE DELIQUIUM: OR, The Grievances of the Nation DISCOVERED IN A DREAM. ?-?

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family Featured folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 7/2/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Bible/ biblical figures politics/ government religious concepts religious groups Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 7/2/2014 1:05:37 PM XBallad Casavant, Alex Created XML Version of Ballad 7/2/2014 1:05:37 PM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/2/2014 1:05:37 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/2/2014 1:05:37 PM Transcriptionist Two Reyes-Ortiz, Joannekris Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/2/2014 1:05:37 PM Transcriptionist One Rendt, Ariel Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/27/2013 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 3/27/2013 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 3/26/2013 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 3/26/2013 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/8/2012 Checker Elizabeth Aguilar Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/24/2012 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/8/2012 Bibliographer Elizabeth Aguilar Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 10/8/2012 Checker Elizabeth Aguilar Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/8/2012 Checker Elizabeth Aguilar Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/8/2012 Checker Elizabeth Aguilar Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/17/2012 Checker Elizabeth Aguilar Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/17/2012 Checker Elizabeth Aguilar Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/17/2012 Checker Elizabeth Aguilar Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/17/2012 Checker Elizabeth Aguilar Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/15/2012 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/15/2012 Checker Elizabeth Aguilar Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/10/2012 Checker Elizabeth Aguilar Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">THE</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">DELIQUIUM:</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OR,</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Grievances of the Nation</hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">DISCOVERED</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">IN A DREAM.</hi></seg>
FRom Evenings Coffee, lac'd with long Argument Of the Kings Power and Rights of Parliament, And hot-brain'd Company, who make it their Vocation, Waving their own, to mind th' Affairs o' th' Nation; Whose Noddles for these many Months have been Hatchers of Grievances unfelt, unseen; Ill-manner'd Fools, whose Ignorance is Hate, They understand not, therefore blame the State. Their real Grievance is their want of sence, Beasts in all things but in Obedience. Cloy'd with their noisie Cant (in equal plight Of laughter, scorn, and grief) I bid good night: Troubl'd to think of Englands Grand Disease, Groaning with th' Burthen of such Sots as these, To bed I went, where restless long I lay, Despair'd of Sleep, and waited for the day: Lord! (said I) must our Monarch ne're have rest? The more indulgent, th' more he is opprest With Fools that know not, think not what they want; Their Desire granted, they'l soon cure the Grant: Yet the King's still in fault! methinks I see Tears flowing down the Cheeks of Majesty. If I am troubled, how much more is He, Who bears the burthen of their Calumny? Thus lay I long, my Soul quite spent with Sighs, When Sleep insensibly stole o're my Eyes. From lump of Flesh unchain'd, methought my Soul Through Dark Unwholsome Foggy Mists did rowl, Horrour increasing still, methought I came To the dire Mansions of Eternal Flame, The Gates of Brass transparent were, and thence Flew Azure Flames with Smoak of nauseous stench, With a confused noise of Howls and Groans, Such as would melt (if anything can) Stones. The horrour quell'd my Spirit, that I stood 'Maz'd and insensitive as Stone or Wood, Till by a Friend reviv'd; Chear thee, quoth he, This place as yet is not design'd for thee. He led me through the Gates, where lo, a place, Larger then all this lower Worlds vast space, The Torments gave some light (else dark as night) A pale bituminous discolour'd Light,
Myriads of wretched Souls my Fancy view'd, Weltring in Flames, with Pitch and Brimstone strew'd. Just at the Gate th' Infernal Senate sate; For know, that Hell's no Kingdom, but a State; A Democractick State; for it affords (As I was told) no King nor House of Lords: Tho' Lucifers a kind of Prince, he sate But Chairman, or rather Speaker to the State; A Troop of Ghastly Fiends surround his Chair, All which of a Select Committee were, Who (having plaid their Devils part so well) Had been Elected Burgesses of Hell: Two who were lately to Eutopia sent, Stood now for Members of the Parliament. O Yes was strait proclaim'd; Appear, appear, You that are Candidates; mighty Lucifer Assures his Vote for him who merits best For his Eutopia Service; All the rest To Lucifer with formal Bows submit; They would consent to what His Grace thought fit. Python appear'd; Great Sir, said he, since I Went with this Honourable Houses Embassy, T' Eutopia, I ha' brought that Realm to be An't please Your Grace, in all Conformity To Your desires; But first I must confess Letters of Credence from his Holiness (Your Grace's Correspondent) I procur'd To some Lords there; whom I before insur'd By my Ignatian Friends; O! they're a Crew Of the most hearty, diligent and true, Zealous unwearied Boys, to propagate What may conduce to th' Good of this Our State: Had they but Cunning equal to their Will, This Place with Humane Souls they'd quickly fill; You'd need no other Fiends: These did my work, And privily about the Realm did lurk: Some ign'rant Bigots they engag'd, and some Only with th' pleasing pride of Martyrdom; Some by Ambition's Bait were finely caught, All things at once boldly to venture at: But I confess, though all my Art I try'd To bring the Great Almanzor to Our side,
I fail'd; But then I got it buz'd that He Would soon make one in the Conspiracy: This tickl'd and engag'd them in that PLOT Which by th' Eutopians ne'r will be forgot. In short, This Honourable House knows well How I've deserv'd a Burgess-ship in Hell; If not, we've some Jesuits here can tell. Then through the House a murmuring Applause Shew'd that they all inclin'd to Pythons Cause. When Syphax, th' other Candidate appear'd, Great Sir, said he, I hope my Cause (when heard) Will gain your suffrage; Mighty Sir, You know M'Opponent's method was a while ago Us'd by Cantatogax, Your Agent then To th' same Realms, though but in vain; since when Others with like Effects have us'd it; I Us'd the experienc'd Rule, Presbytery: This was the method, Mighty Lucifer! That brought Ten thousand Rebel Souls a year For twenty years together to this place, For Pythons part, an't please Your Grace, He hatch't a Plot I must confess; but what Effects did this his so much talkt of Plot Produce? Why faith he e'en sent here no more Than those who were Your Grace's own before. For my own part, I to the House will give Of all my Actions a short Narrative. In grave and comly Hypocritick Dress, Bearing the outward form of Godliness, I cloath'd myself, and to Eutopia went, Haunted the City, Court and Parliament; And in short time pick'd up a numerous Crew Of all Religions; every Sect a few: I made all those my own who took great pains To make their seeming Godliness their gains: All those who use Religion for a fashion, Or seen to thrive by th' ruine of the Nation; All who'd at Court their expectations crost, Or by ill manners had Preferments lost: All those who were engag'd in the late Broils, In the King's Death and the three Nations Spoils, And had this King's late Act of Grace abus'd By their unnatural Ingratitude: All who had lost their Games, and now would fain, For their own turn, have the Cards dealt again. I found one fit at last to steer these right, A Favourite of theirs, a much fam'd Wight, Capricio call'd, and thereby hangs a Tale, Meager his Visage is, his Face as pale As his Deeds black; Dame Nature sure design'd That by his out-side men might know his mind: Hell's in his Body, and his shrivl'd Skin Seems dropping from his rotten Bones within: His Corrupt Tortur'd Body does convey Fresh Spleen and Rancour to his Heart each day; Which lest it shou'd o'reflow, or by mishap Be over-charg'd from Sun or Fleece, a Tap Is in his Body fix'd, with curious Art, Which from his double Envy-canker'd heart, By pumping, does exhaust th' exundant Juice, Reserving still enough for's daily use. With this half Fiend I many Consults had, And we at last this Resolution made: Almanzors due Succession to oppose, Among his many unprovoked Foes: We chose young Marcion, not for any love, But to undo the Youth, as time will prove: Poor easie Prince, he little thinks that we Prostituteth is his weak Credulity
To our own use, to Anarchize the State, And hasten his too soon intended Fate: Disgusted Lords we got some two or three, To put their helping hands to Anarchy. Amongst the rest one Libertino nam'd, Of him I must confess I was asham'd, His vitious Life did much disgrace the Cause; But 'twas enough, his hate to King, Church, Laws, And Government in general, drew the rude Unthinking, Jealous, Headlong Multitude To esteem him so that he this Title bears, One of the Protestant Eutopian Peers. With these in close Cabals sometime I pass'd, And forg'd a feasible Design at last: 'Twas thought without some provocation 'twere Not fit our Cause in publick should appear: I pitch'd upon a Rogue, the truth to tell, Has not his Fellow even here in Hell, Upon our Crew we forg'd a Plot, which he First brought to light; A Re-discovery He made as soon, Swore to, and was believ'd, Then our good Party found themselves aggriev'd, And cry'd aloud, THESE TORY'S, Bretheren, see; Behold, we say, the Lords Delivery. This was some Bishop sure, or Masquerader. Soon after this a Son accus'd his Father; Forwards and backwards Swears, at last he Vows, Sir, He was subborn'd by that same Papist Towzer. Things went on well, and now they thought 'twas time The Ladder of Rebellion they should climbe: The Senate sate; High for the Good Old Cause, Magna Charta, and Fundamental Laws, No Arbitrary Power, but We must give Necessary Limits to Prerogative, Though the King mayn't, yet We may break the Laws, Punish at pleasure, though without a Cause; Then must Almanzor be excluded, He Has too much Spirit, too much bravery; They must and will have presently Redress, Of a long Bead-roll of Grievances. And these are such as the King won't, nor can't, Nature and Conscience will not let him grant: If not, no Money, Sirs, what e're come on't; A Fig for Foreign Foes, so the King want. Councellors must be tax'd, and most of all Hali, whom they had nought to charge with all, But only 'cause he could discern the Weather, And judge when Elements would clash together; They do not think it safe that any Lord That has but sence, should sit at Council-Board; Those that sit there should in their Foreheads have Their Beast-ships Mark of either Fool or Knave; Who lov'd the King was Voted straight to be Betrayer of the Subjects Liberty, And their old long-lov'd Darling Property. Capricio tells them next, they want a Prince Fit to be trusted with the Rule; and since The present King's not such, they think 'twere fit That they be trusted both with Him and It. In short, I've brought that Kingdom, now of late, In all Conformity so near our State, That whosoever sees both, will surely Swear 'Tis an exact true Pattern of This here. Then such loud shouts from all the Senate came, That I awak'd, and found it but a Dream.
FINIS.