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A N

EPIS T L E,

MDCCX V I.

I Pray, good Lady Harley, let Jonathan know,

How long you intend to live incognito.

Your humble fervant,

ELKANAH SETTLE.

ANOTHER

EPISTLE.

I Pray, Lady Harriot, the time to affign

When she shall receive a turkey and chine;
That a body may come to St. James's, to dine.

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TRUE 'S

EPITAPH.

IF wit or honefty could fave

Our mouldering afhes from the grave,
This ftone had ftill remain'd unmark'd,
I ftill writ profe, True ftill have bark'd.

But

But envious Fate has claim'd its due,
Here lies the mortal part of True;
His deathlefs virtues muft furvive,
To better us that are alive.

His prudence and his wit were seen
In that, from Mary's grace and mien,
He own'd the power, and lov'd the Queen.
By long obedience he confeft

That ferving her was to be bleft.

Ye murmurers, let True evince

That men are beafts, and dogs have fenfe!

His faith and truth all Whitehall knows, He ne'er could fawn or flatter thofe

Whom he believ'd were Mary's foes:

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Ne'er skulk'd from whence his fovereign led him,
Or fnarl'd against the hand that fed him.-
Read this, ye statesmen now in favour,
And mend your own, by True's behaviour!

EPIGRA

M.

To Richmond and Peterburgh, Matt gave his

letters,

And thought they were fafe in the hands of his betters. How happen'd it then that the packets were loft ? Thefe were Knights of the Garter, not Knights of

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Lord Coningsby, one of the lords juftices of Ireland." -He is the fame perfon mentioned in Downhall.

He,

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And, arm'd with truth, impeach'd the Don

Of his enormous crimes,

Which I'll unfold to you anon,

In low, but faithful rhymes.

The articles recorded stand,

Against this peerless peer,

Search but the archives of the land *,

You'll find them written there.

Attend, and juftly I'll recite
His treasons to you all,

The heads fet in their native light
(And figh poor Gaphny's fall).

That traiterously he did abuse
The power in him repos'd;
And wickedly the fame did use,
On all mankind impos'd.

+ The Earl of Bellamont impeached Coningsby. * Journal, Sabbati, 16 die Decembris, 1693.

Q3

That

That he, contrary to all law,

An oath did frame and make, Compelling the militia

Th' illegal oath to take.

Free-quarters for the army too
He did exact and force

On Proteftants; his love to fhow,
Than Papist us'd them worse.

On all provifions deftin'd for
The camp at Limerick,
He laid a tax full hard and fore,
Though many men were fick.

The futlers too he did ordain
For licences fhould pay,
Which they refus'd with juft difdain,
And fled the camp away.

By which provifions were fo fcant,
That hundreds there did die,
The foldiers food and drink did want,
Nor famine could they fly.

He fo much lov'd his private gain,

He could not hear or fee;

They might, or die, or might complain,
Without relief, PARDIE.

That,

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