With Essex, and straight laid him by?
If that were all, for some have swore
As false as they, if th’ did no more.
Did they not swear to maintain law,
In which that swearing made a flaw?
For Protestant religion vow,
That did that vowing disallow?
For privilege of Parliament,
In which that swearing made a rent?
And since, of all the three, not one
Is left in being, ’tis well known.
Did they not swear, in express words,
To prop and back the House of Lords,
And after turn’d out the whole house-full
Of peers, as dang’rous and unusefull?
So Cromwell, with deep oaths and vows,
Swore all the Commons out o’ th’ House;
Vow’d that the red-coats would disband,
Ay, marry would they, at their command;
And troll’d them on, and swore, and swore,
Till th’ army turn’d them out of door.
This tells us plainly what they thought,
That oaths and swearing go for nought,
And that by them th’ were only meant
To serve for an expedient.
What was the public faith found out for,
But to slur men of what they fought for?
The public faith, which ev’ry one
Is bound t’ observe, yet kept by none;
And if that go for nothing, why
Should private faith have such a tie?
Oaths were not purpos’d, more than law,
To keep the good and just in awe,
But to confine the bad and sinful,
Like moral cattle, in a pinfold.
A saint’s of th’ heav’nly realm a peer;
And as no peer is bound to swear,
But on the gospel of his honour,
Of which he may dispose as owner
It follows, though the thing be forgery,
And false t’ affirm it is no perjury,
But a mere ceremony, and a breach
Of nothing, but a form of speech;
And goes for no more when ’tis took,
Than mere saluting of the book.
Suppose the Scriptures are of force,
They’re but commissions of course,
And saints have freedom to digress,
And vary from ’em, as they please;
Or misinterpret them, by private
Instructions, to all aims they drive at.
Then why should we ourselves abridge
And curtail our own privilege?
Quakers (that, like to lanterns, bear
Their light within ’em) will not swear:
Their gospel is an accidence,
By which they construe conscience,
And hold no sin so deeply red,
As that of breaking Priscian’s head;
(The head and founder of their order,
That stirring hats held worse than murder);
These thinking th’ are obliged to troth
In swearing, will not take an oath:
Like mules, who, if th’ have not their will
To keep their own pace, stand stock-still:
But they are weak, and little know
What free-born consciences may do.
’Tis the temptation of the devil
That makes all human actions evil:
For saints may do the same things by
The Spirit, in sincerity,
Which other men are tempted to,
And at the devil’s instance do;
And yet the actions be contrary,
Just as the saints and wicked vary.
For as on land there is no beast,
But in some fish at sea’s exprest,
So in the wicked there’s no vice
Of which the saints have not a spice;
And yet that thing that’s pious in
The one, in th’ other is a sin.
Is’t not ridiculous, and nonsense,
A saint should be a slave to conscience,
That ought to be above such fancies,
As far as above ordinances?
She’s of the wicked, as I guess,
B’ her looks, her language, and her dress:
And though, like constables, we search,
For false wares, one another’s church,
Yet all of us hold this for true,
No faith is to the wicked due:
For truth is precious and divine;
Too rich a pearl for carnal swine.
Quoth Hudibras, All this is true;
Yet ’tis not fit that all men knew
Those mysteries and revelations;
And therefore topical evasions
Of subtle turns and shifts of sense
Serve best with th’ wicked for pretence;
Such as the learned Jesuits use,
And Presbyterians, for excuse
Against the Protestants, when th’ happen
To find their churches taken napping:
As thus: A breach of oath is duple,
And either way admits a scruple,
And may be ex parte of the maker
More criminal than the injur’d taker;
For he that strains too far a vow,
Will break it, like an o’er-bent bow:
And he that made, and forc’d it, broke it,
Not he that for convenience took it.
A broken oath is, quatenus oath,
As sound t’ all purposes of troth,
As broken laws are ne’er the worse;
Nay, till th’ are broken have no force.
What’s justice to a man, or laws,
That never comes within their claws?
They have no pow’r, but to admonishl
Cannot control, coerce, or punish;
Until they’re broken, and then touch
Those only that do make ’em such.
Beside, no engagement is allow’d
By men in prison made for good;
For when they’re set at liberty,
They’re from th’ engagement too set free.
The rabbins write, when any Jew
Did make to God or man, a vow,
Which afterward he found untoward,
And stubborn to be kept, or too hard,
Any three other Jews o’ th’ nation,
Might free him from the obligation;
And have not two saints pow’r to use
A greater privilege than three Jews?
The court of conscience, which in man
Should be supreme and sovereign,
Is’t fit should be subordinate
To ev’ry petty court i’ the state,
And have less power than the lesser,
To deal with perjury at pleasure;
Have its proceedings disallow’d, or
Allow’d, at fancy of Pye-Powder?
Tell all it does, or does not know,
For swearing ex officio?
Be forc’d t’ impeach a broken hedge,
And pigs unring’d at Vis. Franc. Pledge?
Discover thieves, and bawds, recusants,
Priests, witches, eves-droppers, and nuisance;
Tell who did play at games unlawful,
And who fill’d pots of ale but half full;
And have no pow’r at all, nor shift,
To help itself at a dead lift?
Why should not conscience have vacation
As well as other courts o’ th’ nation;
Have equal power to adjourn,
Appoint appearance and return;
And make as nice distinction serve
To split a case, as those that carve,
Invoking cuckolds’ names, hit joints?
Why should not tricks as slight do points?
Is not th’ High-Court of Justice sworn
To judge that law that serves their turn?
Make their own jealousies high treason,
And fix ’em whomsoe’er they please on?
Cannot the learned counsel there
Make laws in any shape appear?
Mould ’em as witches do their clay,
When they make pictures to destroy,
And vex ’em into any form
That fits their purpose to do harm?
Rack ’em until they do confess,
Impeach of treason whom they please,
And most perfidiously condemn
Those that engag’d their lives for them?
And yet do nothing in their own sense,
But what they ought by oath and conscience.
Can they not juggle, and with slight
Conveyance, play with wrong and right;
And sell their
