o Arms, 'tis no pretence for you.
The King is Judge of what is just and fit,
And if he judge amiss you must submit,
Tho griev'd you must your constant duty pay,
And your Redress seek in a lawful way.
_Hushai_ tho he of Treason be accus'd,
Such loyal precepts in my soul infus'd,
That I the hazard of my life will run,
Rather than prove my self a Rebel Son.
Our Foes, have sought to' infect my Father's mind,
To think, you to Rebellion are inclin'd:
To stir you to Rebellion is their aim,
And they are mad, to see you justly tame.
Upon your Heads, they fain would lay their sin,
'Tis War they seek, but would have you begin:
Pretence they want, who for the King do seem,
To bring in, and set up _Eliakim_.
I am afraid the _Baalites_ cursed Plot,
By many laught at, and by most forgot,
Is carried on still, in their hidden Mine,
I fear, but dare not, the event, divine.
May Heav'n defend my Father's Life, and late,
Full ripe with Age, in peace, may he'yield to Fate.
I know, my Friends, for Him's your chiefest Care,
For him, as much as for your selves, you fear,
Upon his Life our happiness depends,
With it the peace of all _Judea_ ends,
Be vigilant, your foes Designs prevent,
Let not loud murmures shew your discontent:
Your Loyal Duty to your Soveraign pay,
Your Griefs present him in a Lawful way:
Be not too anxious for our common Friend,
God, and his Innocence will him defend:
Sit down in quiet, murmure not, but pray,
Submit to Heaven, your King, and Laws obey.
Youth, Beauty, and the Grace wherewith he spoke,
The Eyes, Ears, Hearts, of all the people took,
Their murmures then to joyful shouts were turn'd,
And they rejoyc'd, who lately murmuring mourn'd:
With Loyalty he did their Breasts inflame,
And they with shouts blest _Azaria_'s name.
The joyful Cry th'row all the City flew,
God save the King, and _Azaria_ too.
To him the Princes, his best Friends resort,
Resolv'd as Suppliants, to repair to Court;
In humble wise, to shew the King their Grief,
And on their bended Knees to seek Relief.
They 'approach'd the Throne, to it their homage paid,
Then to the King, the Loyal _Nashon_ said.
Great Sir, whom all good Subjects truly Love,
Tho all things that you do they can't approve,
We, whom the Throne has with high Honours blest,
Present you here the prayers of the rest;
Our bended Knees, as low as Earth we bow,
And humbly prostrate supplicate you now:
The blessing of your Love to us restore,
And raise us to your Favour, S