A Conference at the Castle of Count AngeloJohn Taylor, 'The Water Poet'[?]Noah MillstonePrincipal Investigator MPESESebastiaan VerweijCo-Investigator MPESERichard BellResearch AssociateVictoria AnkerBRIHC Research Impact FellowMike JonesResearch Software EngineerManuscript Pamphleteering in Early Stuart England (MPESE)2017United KingdomLondonBritish LibraryHarleyMS 390Newsletters from Joseph Meade to Sir M Stuteville, vol. II, 1626-1631
British Library, Harley MS 390
British Library, Additional MS 24863, ff. 84r–85vBritish Library, Additional MS 72479, ff. 2r–3vBeinecke Library, Osborn b197, ff. 214–217Bodleian Library, MS Rawlinson D 398, ff. 198r–199vBodleian Library, MS Rawlinson poetry 26, ff. 65r–66vBodleian Library, MS Tanner 205, reversing volume, 87v–85vBodleian Library, MS Tanner 306, ff. 225r–231rCambridge University Library, MS Ff.5.23, ff. 1r–3vHuntington Library, HM 122, ff. 1r–30rSomerset Archives, DD\WO/56/9/14.II, ff. 1r–4vProsopopoeia. Or, A conference held at Angelo Castle, between the Pope, the Emperor, and the King of Spaine.London1619?204431619?Englishversesatireanti-catholicismPopeSpain
A Conference at the Castle of Saint Angello betweene
the Pope, the Emperor, and the Kinge of Spayne
PopeWellcome Deare sonns vnto our Cort of Roome,Blessing Apostolicke, & an holy doomeSheild the howse of Austria from mischance,And both his fortunes, & & his Crowne advance.Emperor
Thy feete most holy Father doe I Kisse,Off Churches Benediction doe I misse,The Imperiall Crowne from Austria will bee gon,Which Heaveans forbid for then w'are all vndone,Bohemians Rebells with Hungaria ioyne,The Heretiques from Danuby to Reine,Theire heads, theire Armes, theire sowrts doe combineAgainst Rome, and Austria; Oh the Palatine,That cursed Calvinist, with his partakers!Those damned schismaticks, & church forsakers,Vppon our Ruines seeke to raise theire fortuneWhich makes mee thus your Holinesse importune.PopeThe keyes of P Peter, & the sword of PaullShall shutt, and open; cutt in peices allThe gates of Heaven, Nations Laws, & rights,And turne cleare day into the darkest nights,Ere one of Calvines, or of Luthers secteWith Roman Bayes, or Eagle shal bee dect.Emperor
The threats & Curses of the CatholiquesAre now despis'd by those vile HeretiquesHelpe vs by Counsell theirefore Holy SirAnd shew vs meanes to quiett all this stirre.PopeThou maist by reasons, & Ambassages,By questions, Answers, & like passages,Winne tyme a while, but now th'are out of DateNow swords, not words doe Kingdomes Arbitrate.To Neighbors, freinds, & subiects quickly sendThat from surprise thou maist thy self defend.My Natives, & my Legates I'le dispatchMore fvries 'mongst the Catholiques to hatchMents, Colon, Triers, Catholique BabeereHast thou in Germanie, with others theare.Thy vncle Albert, & a Polish KingeVnto thee quickly may theire sowrds bringeAlthough my selfe with Florence may not sendOur armes soe soone, yett mony will wee lend.The Canton of the Switzers shall bee waged,That to our Seas doe hold themselves ingaged;Soe is the Saxon Duke with his estateTo thee in Dresden, and the ElectorateWhose elder Cosens hopes will make him feare,And to thy fortunes, & thy howse adheare.I'le allso send to Savoy, and to Venice,To Fraunce, our eldest sonne, & to St Dennis,But I'le those Drunken, & base Germans quellOr make them stoope, or damne to pitt of Hell;Besides thy Spanish Cosen present heere,Whom Europe, and the new found world doe feareThe Churches Atlas, and teh Empires proppeBy strength by freinds, by witt, or gold will stoppeThose proud attempts, and darings of the Dutch,And breake theire forces, cost it he're so much.Kings of SpaineIff Cæsar & your Holinesse have done,Observe the Answer of your Spanish sonne.Nott Germane Prelattes, or Bavarians can,Nor Kinge of Pole himselfe, nor any man,Nor Tuscaine Duke, nor Allbert my poore BrotherThe Canton Catholiques, nor any otherBringe timely succour against the Coniuration,Those Allmaine Graves have made in every nation.Expect not helpe from Savoy or Venetia,Who deadly feare, & hate the house of AustriaI looke for nothing from our sonne of FraunceFor if hee saw vs downe, hee'de sing & daunce.And why should you from Saxon looke for moreThen Charles my Grandsire reapt from him before,Who gave all, & more then you doe mention,Yett shortly after, in the great ContentionTwixt him & German Rebells, hee forsookeHe His Benefactors, & against him tooke.And Cesar if at houre thou looke for aydeThy Kingdomes selfe both decay'd are lost thy selfe decaydesThyne Austrian subiects allso are infectedWith Luthers heresie, & have reiectedThe Papall dignitie, & may doe thine,And with theire fellow Lutherans combineAnd if for succour thou doe send to ThraciaThe faythlesse Turke, (thou knowst) will come from AsiaSpaine then must helpe or what will Cæsar doe?And how shall Spayne helpe Rome, & Cæsar too?Shall Indian Armies been recalled from thence?Italian forces march away from hence?Leave Millaine, Naples, & our silver fountainesVnguarded, naked? to march over mountaines?Through Grizons countrye lead the strength of Spayne?Or venture our Armado once againeTo narrow seas, and soe at once loose moreThen wee have gott in sixscore yeares agoe before.Soe thenou in Haspurgh, I in ArragonMay showe our Crownes, turne Monkes, and live alone.You count your freinds, but count yournot all your foes,Whose strength, and number you cannot oppose,The Northerne trackt of Europe from BrittaniaTending to East, as far as Transilvania,Save Poland, and some Trifles are theire owneAh mee in forescore yeares, how are they growne?Three Kingdomes England, Scotland, and Ireland beeWith Demnarke, Norway, Sweden, six you seeBesides those two which youthey have gott from theeBeing eight in all, & our Kings are but threeThe number of theire princes, Dukes, & CountstheireWith your
free states, and Lords ours far surmountsBesides theire many Palsgraves, & BurgravesWith all theire Lantsgraves, & Margraves.And as theire numbers, soe theire spiritts aremade great with hopes of the prodigious starreWhich blazd ore Allmaine, last DecemberAs all the world doth well remeber.Theire expositions, and theire Calculationsof times and scepters, and of Scytuations.Of Tome, & Babell, and of Hills, & Dalesof Beasts & Draggons, and of fearefull tailesWheare with they cheare themselves, & theire new KingeAs if they Victors weare, & Bells did ringeAlas, for Rome, alas for FerdinandAlas for Phillip must hee needs withstandHis owne, the Popes, & Empires foes?And goe himselfe, the Church, & Empire lose.Have all my Ancestors to five descentsTyed Earledomes, Dukedomes, Church & Empire fast?And is the period of our greatnes past?And our declining now begin to haste?Hoping for Westerne Monarchie at lastAh Nassau, Nassau, hatefull sonne, & FatherCurst bee your name & house, you did gatherThose fearefull Rebells into warlike bands.Which now doe state it in the Netherlands.Emperor
Thus are our Dangers, thus our feares relatedThus bee our minds perplext, our hearts amatedIf Rome have any secret wisdome hidde,layed for evill times, or ever didMake wicked Heretiques feele Churches power.Then Father, now's the tume & this the hower.Remember 'twas Frederick here to foreFrighted thy predecessors; this may morehazard thy fortune vtterly oppresseThe roman Church, thy selfe, & vs, vnlesseBy some privy Stratagem, fetcht from the deepeThou doest thy selfe and vs from daunger keepe.PopeAnd are our freinds soe few? & soe vntrusty?And bee our freindsfoes soe many? & soe lusty?One Innocent in Rome in former agesHad vsed three ings for laqueis & for PagesAnd doe they now against our liking makeBoth Kings & Cæsar, then the furyes wake,Helpe mee to store of Pistolls, poysons, knivesTo fier, & power, Manacles, & knives givesBid Ravilliack, & Clement hie them hetherLett Gerrard Fawkes, & Garnett come together,Come yee Ignatians, bringe AssassinatesLeft handed Ehuds that doe rule the fatesAnd cut the threids of Princes lifes asunderThose Roman Scevolas shall grave men wonder,To see those vpstart Kings with theire partakersIn every Kingdome slaughterd by MassacresI'le rayse vp Parsons, Scuarez, and Bellarmine,Loyola himselfe theire Father, and refineAll human witt to one poore quintessence,Against whose vertue shall bee noe defence.Theirefor (Deare Sonnes) at nothing bee dismaidRemember what your Father now hath said.You to Vienna; you to Civill goe,Helpe as you may, to give the fatall blow.King ofspayneCome Lerma looke not sadly on thy freind,But lett's with Spanish patience wayt the end.Finis