A counter-blast to the Phanaticks, those prodigious catter-pillers, hatcht by the Jesuits, whose father is the devil, and god-father the pope. On their last insurrection against the life of his most sacred Majesty, Charles the second, King of Great Britaine, France and Ireland, defender of the faith, &c.

A COUNTER-BLAST TO THE PHANATICKS , Those Prodigious Catter-pillers , Hatcht by the Jesuits , whose Father is the DEVIL , and God-Father the POPE .

On their last Insurrection against the Life of his most Sacred MAJESTY , CHARLES the Second , KING of Great Britaine , France and Ireland , Defender of the Faith , &c.

HOw ? the Phanaticks sway ? they stab the King ? Dam'nd fools ! could they imagine such a thing ? Then , Sprats shall conquer Whales , the guilty Owle , The Eagles , and the Mice shall Lyons rule . Courage my friends ; Phanticks , like Venus mole , Doe add a lustre to a Loyal soule . Like Wisps , which scoure better Vessels , They Doe brush our sinns , and then are cast away . They are but sauce to sweeter meat ; by their Vices , more pleasing our Virtues are : Spawned by Belzebub , brought up from Hell , In Christ his Name , Christianity to Quell : King Jesus they are for , ( so th' damned Crew , That Murther'd him , was for King Jesus too ) Fond Bedlams ! what ! could they think that Heaven , Would taint the world with Phanatick leaven ? That Christ would be Crown'd , King , and Soveraigne , By 'th' wicked , silly , base Phanatick Traine ? Are these St. John's , to cry , make straight the way , And in the mean time Murther , Kill and Slay ? Think they , that God , his servant Charles would save From Tyrant Oliver's and grander Rebels grave ? To give him up , to such poor Mirmydons , as these , Whose very looks would breed a new Disease . Away , vile brood of Hereticks , go tell , Your master Jesuits ( those Imps of Hell ) That force of * * Gun-powder treason . Gun-powder could not destroy , Nor hurt , the sacred line of Charles le Roy : Much lesse such Schismaticks , as you ; whose race Is unto Dunn , and Tyburne a disgrace . But , why should I blurr paper with such blots Of impudence , the Kingdoms pest , and spots ; Dreggs of the baser sort , whose only fame , Is to act wickednesse , in God's good Name ? My Muse , abjure such Dunghill birds , as they , And leave them to infernal Hawkes a prey . Behold ! your gracious King ! whom I am sent , To give all honest Israelites content : The Royall line ! and their mirac'lous fate ! These , these , are best for thee to Celebrate . 'T is true , two branches of the Royal Oake , Are * * Since the Restauration . past to Heaven by the Fatall stroak ; But three remaine ; thus God doth grace , Both Men and Angels with the Royal race . Phanaticks judge their death a curse for sin , why ? Because for sin 't is that Phanaticks dye , Yet sure , if none but sinners dye , why fade Phanatick Saints ? for what was heaven made ? But cease my daring Muse ; the very word Phanatick , makes a true man draw his sword : 'T is able to hatch Witches , nay make Pluto Doubt where he 's the greatest divel , or no : He 's a single Devil , but in this one , Phanaticks , dwells more then a Legion . 'T is sins Epitome , of ignorance the summe Of Evils genus generalissimum . Like Sampsons Foxes by the tail , All sin , And sects do joyn in a Phanatick 's skin : Phanatick , and not be poysoned , to quote , A man had need first drink an Antidote . But since such Vermin hang , and Charles doth Reign , I 'le sing the praise of my Dread Soveraigne : Who though a Prince disguis'd , or sun 'i th clouds , He sojourned a while with forreign Crouds : Yet now his Own have Owned him their King , All Nations to his grace shall homage bring . Kings ; nay victory it self , shall deem it pride , To be made subject unto such a guide : His presence is a heaven , in him 's the summe , Of all our hopes , past , present , and to come : Comparisons by him get a degree , For he is greater then the greatest , He Hath made the Gods seem impotent , for they Can't give us greater blisse , then Charls his ray : Nor Rider's words , nor Tulli's Eloquence , Can half expresse his grand magnificence , Hee 's more then Men or Angels can rehearse , The fame and Phaenix of the universe . In briefe . He doth as farre Excel all men in Piety , As the Phanaticks doe in Villany . Giles Duncombe of the Inner Temple Gent. Author of Scutum Regale , the Royall Buckler . Or , Vox Legis , a Lecture to Traytors .