MacLean, Gerald, editor. The Return of the King : An Anthology of English Poems Commemorating the Restoration of Charles II / edited by Gerald MacLean
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Giles Duncombe, "Cimelgus Bonde" and "T. F." verses from
Scutum Regale
21-28 May

    Titlepage: Scutum Regale, / THE / Royal Buckler; / OR, / VOX LEGIS, / A / Lecture to Traytors: / Who most wickedly murthered / CHARLES the I, / AND / Contrary to all Law and Religion banished / CHARLES THE II. / 3d MONARCH of / GREAT BRITAIN, &c. / [rule] / [design] / [rule] / Salus populi, Salus Regis. / LONDON, 1660. / [enclosed within double-rule box] [printed in black and red inks].

    Engraved frontispiece headed "Iam redit Astr'a, Redeunt Saturnia regna, / Iam nova progenies, c'lo Demittur alto." shows Charles on his throne with the Lords and Dukes of York and Gloucester; below them the Commons; below them the Bishops with common prayer book. At the bottom, a double set of images: "Traytors rewarded:" and "Sectaries reiected."

   Wing: D 2599a and B3557; mistaken double-entry.
Format and date: 8to. Advertised in the Parliamentary Intelligencer 22 (21-28 May), p. 348.

   Copies: O1 Tanner 624, has an additional cut after the t/p and before the Epistle to the Reader of Charles about to be crowned by an angel, followed by a dedication page "To His Most Sacred Majestie," COPYTEXT 9/95; O2 Linc 8to c.183; additional engraving of Charles appears between sigs A and B; L1 292.a.15, plate of shepherd missing; L2 1483.aa.26; L3 G3535 (Charles 2's copy); ms note: "This Copy belonged to the Royal Library of Charles 2d whose cypher is on the binding. It has not only a very fine impression of the Frontispiece, but it has also a 2d Plate which precedes the "Shepherd's Complaint" at the end of the book, & is very seldom found with it. This Plate has been by some called "Charles 2d" but it is so unlike that it is not easy to believe it could be meant for his portrait"; C Adams 8.66.8; WF 140413; additional engraving of Charles appears between sigs A and B; CT; P; CH; CN; MH; Y; Exeter.

    Giles Duncombe was a young lawyer who evidently hoped to improve his situation by declaring, in print, his loyalty to the Stuarts with strong conviction, dedication, and learning, at some length, and as soon as possible. Scutum Regale was advertised in the last week of May, but must have been in almost continuous preparation from much earlier in the year. Later in December, Duncombe identifies himself as the author of this book in the signature printed at the end of A Counter-Blast to the Phanaticks (which cannot have appeared before the death of Princess Mary on the 24th of that month): "Giles Duncombe of the Inner Temple Gent. / Author of Scutum Regale, the Royall / Buckler. Or, Vox Legis, a Lecture / to Traytors."

    Evidence of haste and of last minute revision, or at least of the desire to seem to be among the first in print, abounds. Most copies are gathered differently from each other. One of the British Library copies mis-prints the anagram "Gimelgus Bonde," to which a contemporary hand has added "giles Duncomb Turn'd a -- -" (L2 sig. A5) suggesting that there were some around who knew who the author really was. The Errata page mentions that Monk, who "hath now cheared us with the hopes of a Free-Parliament," soon will "bring in our exiled King" (sig. A6v), suggesting that the book was being rushed along to appear in advance of the King. The Epistle to the Reader ends with a prayer for the arrival of "Charls the 2d our Augustus, and C'sars Successor" (sig. A4v); the major prose section of the book ends "let the Cryes of thy People come unto thee O God, and restore our Gracious King Charles the second to his H'reditary Crown: Whose Youth thou has seasoned with the Afflications of King David" (p. 393, sig. [Cc5]), while the mood of the whole enterprise is that of hopeful anticipation.

    The Reader addressed by the Epistle is specifically identified as urban and supposed susceptible to arguments concerning property rights:

O purblind City, how long will you enslave your selves to ravenous woolves? who by their often changing of their feigned Governments, do but change the thief, and still your Store-houses must be the Magazine, to furnish them with plunder. You must never look to enjoy your lives, estates, or Gods blessing, with the fruition of your Wives, and Children, before your lawful King and Soveraign CHARLS the II. unjustly banished by Rebells, be restored to his Crown and Kingdom. (sig. Av).
The address to city-dwelling property owners helps place the initial writing and perhaps even printing of the book during February and March while Monck, the guilds and parliament negotiated.

    "The Epistle to the Reader," ends with some Latin and English verses calling for a return of the king:

Enough of hail and cruel snow,
Hath Jove now showr'd on us below,
Enough with thundering Steeples down,
Frightned the Town.
Frightned the World.


O thou God of Order, now hold thy punishing hand, cement our Differences, and unite the lines of our Discord in the true Centre. Let Charls the 2d. our Augustus, and C'sars Successor, revenge the bloody Murther of C'sar. O most worthy Augustus, our only lawfull Soveraign, be thou a stay to our falling Kingdom, Patiens vocari C'saris ultor, do thou hasten to be C'sars Revenger, and then


Serus in co/elum redeas, diuque
L'tus intersis populo Quirini,
Neve te nostris vitiis iniquum,
Otyor aura

Tollat, his magnos, potius triumphos,
Hic ames dici pater, atque Princeps,
Neusinas Medos equitare inultos,
Te duce C'sar.

Return to Heaven late we pray,
And long with us the Britains stay,
Nor let disdain of our offence,
Take thee from hence.

Love here victorious, Triumphs rather,
Love here the name of Prince, and father,
Nor let the Rebels scot-free ride,
Thou being our Guide.388

Which is the continual Prayer of

Your Graces most humble, true, faith-
full and obdedient Subject, and most
dutifull Servant, usque ad aras.

Cimelgus Bonde.
(sigs. [A4v-A5])

   Since his style often recalls the political poetry of the early Civil War period, Duncombe would hardly claim to be an Augustan. Yet he was certainly among the first to address Charles in print directly as Augustus.389

    By adopting an anagrammatic pseudonym for the publication of Scutum Regale, Duncombe perhaps wished to suggest that there was still some personal danger involved in publishing his desire for a return to monarchy as early and as earnestly as he did. The author of some dedicatory verses, signed "T. F.", possibly Thomas Flatman, draws attention to Duncombe's personal heroism for writing when he does.390 While there is no direct evidence that "T. F." was Flatman, Scutum Regale is clearly the product of the Inns of Court, a coterie context in which the initials would have been unmistakable. "T. F."'s verses, however, do not appear in any of the editions of Flatman's Poems and Songs published in 1674, 1676, 1682, and 1686.

Guide] Gnide

.úúSee Erskine-Hill, who doesn't mention Duncombe.

[what was control over press like in late 59 and 60? see Potter on Crouch]:

[ornamental border]
To the Author of the Royal
Buckler, or a Lecture to

TO speak what ev'ry one desires, and in a strain
That suits with ev'ry Hearer, is no pain;
To trouble to profess the bloody Creed
Of Mahoment, among the Turks; no need
5: To be afraid amidst ones friends; but he
That talks of Virtue, before Villanie;
Who can be Christian, among the Crew
Of Sectaries, and bid defiance to the Jew;
He that i'th worst of Times dares to be good;
10: (Like Capel) seals his Ligeance with his Blood;
Can strive against th'impetuous wind, and wave,
And all their joynt-conspiracies outbrave;
In spite of Fortune resolutely stand
To argue with a bloudy, treacherous Land;
15: That Man's a Man indeed; can stoutly cry
Hosanna, when the Throng sayes Crucifie.
Sir, such are you, and such your Lines, to whom
Or to your shrine, Posterity shall come
Laden with Laurels: and the little brood
20: Of them whose hands were in their Prince's bloud,
Shall justifie thy Book; and read therein
Their own Misfortunes, and their Father's Sin:
Shall read the Miracles of Providence,
And borrow matter for Romances thence.
25:       Thus (Sir) your Pen shall to your self create
A Monument, beyond the Pageant state
Of breathless Oliver; or those Poor men,
That rul'd and dy'd, and rul'd and stunk agen.
Rebellion for a little moment shines,
30: But seldom with a brave applause declines:
'Tis only Truth, and Loyalty can give
Restoratives, to make a Dead man live.

T. F. (sigs [A7-A8])

   Other internal evidence suggests that the book was being prepared in a hurry during the early months of 1660. The Errata list which precedes "T. F.'s" dedicatory verses, advises us "since the last in execution, is the first in the intention; I must request the Reader to begin with the last part of the Book, and end with the first part in his reading" (sig. [A6]). This proves to be not bad advise, since we find him complaining about Monk --

Monck prov'd worse than Pharaoh himself, and instead of relieving of our distressed Jerusalem . . . he heaped misery to misery, and executed such a grand piece of Tyranny that none in the world . . . could invent. On Thursday the ninth day of February, 1659, . . . he drew up all his souldiers into the City, with their matches lighted, in a warlike posture, doubled his guards, and tore down all the gates, and posts of the City; neither did his intoxicated malice stay upon the gates, but leapt upon the Aldermen, and other Citizens, whom he presently cast into prison, so that now he is become odious, and stinks in the nostrils of all the Citizens and People: and whereas he was the common hopes of all men, he is now the common hatred of all men, as a Traytor more detestable than Oliver himself; who, though he manacled the Citizens hands, yet never took away the doores of their City, whereby all manner of beasts, (as well the Wolves at Westminster, as other out-lying Foxes, and Birds of prey) may come in, and destroy them when they please. (pp. 373-74).

   Within three pages, however, he starts a new section -- "Englands Redemption" -- and finds himself recanting this complaint: "No sooner had I written these last words of the momentary prosperity of the wicked, but immediately the same hour, news was brought me, that General Monck and the City were agreeed,[sic] and resolved to declare for a free Parliament, and decline the Rump . . . I was strucken with amazement, joy made me tremble, and the goodnesse of the news would scarce permit me to believe it" (p. 377).391

    The dedicatory verses signed T. F. are followed by "The History of Phaeton," an extended allegory in which King Phoebus, "representing the King," punishes Phaeton, "the hare-brained people" (sigs B-C2). The main body of the book, "A Lecture to Traytors" (sigs C2v-Aa4v) is interspersed with verses in Latin with English translations. The prose "Lecture" draws to an end with two final sections, "Englands Confusion" (sigs Aa5-Bb4v), and "Englands Redemption" (sigs [Bb4v-Cc5v]. Pagination also ends here. Two short poems, "On the late MIRACULOUS REVOLUTIONS IN ENGLAND, &c.," also signed "T. F.," and "Repentance for the Murther of Charles the Martyr and The Restuaration of Charles the II," both printed on separate leaves, are variously tipped in amongst the final gatherings.392

(Compare Pair of Prodigals on Monk's activities at this stage.)

In O1 Tanner, these leaves appear between the Cc and Dd gatherings, that is, between the Latin version of the pastoral and the English translation. In O2 Linc and WF, the leaf with T. F.'s verses is tipped in between [Cc5] and [Cc6], ie before the Latin verses, while the leaf contining "Repentance" has been tipped in at the very end of the volume. In L3, the copy from Charles's personal library, they appear in the opposite order immediately after the titlepage.

On the late

THree Kingdoms, like one Ship, a long time lay
Black tempest-proof upon a troubled Sea;
Bandy'd from wave to wave, from rock, to sand,
A prey to Pyrats from a forein Land:
Expos'd to all the injuries of Fate,
All the Reproaches of a Bedlam-State:
The brave Sayles torn, the Main-mast cut in sunder,
Destruction from above, and ruine under.
Once the base rout of Saylors, try'd to steer
The giddy Vessel, but thence could appear
Nothing but mad Confusion: Then came One,
He sate at Helm, and his Dominion
Frightned the blustring Billows for a while,
And made their Fury counterfeit a smile;
Then fora time, the Bottom seem'd to play
I'th'wonted Chanel, and the beaten way,
Yet floated still. The Rabble snatch't again It's mannagement, but all (alas) in vain:
No Anchor fixt, no wished shoar appears,
No Haven after these distracted years.
But when the lawfull Pilot shall direct
Our wav'ring Course (and Heav'n shall Him protect)
The Storms shall laugh, the Windes rejoyce thereat,
And then our Ark shall find an Ararat.

T. F.

Charles the Martyr.
The Restauration of Charles
the II. is the only Balm to cure Eng-
lands Distractions.

'TIs true, our Nostrils lost their Breath; What then?
'Cause we sinn'd once, shall's ne're be good agen?
We murther'd Charles, for which, Infernal Kings
With worse than 'gypt's Plagues have scourg'd our sins.
The Martyrs Goodnesse Angels cann't rehearse;
The Rebels baseness Devils cann't expresse:
Who in their Lower House have acted more
Than Belzebub in Hell, or th'Earth before.
And did not Charles the Son yet shine, I'de say
That, God of Nature, and the World decay.
But God is God, and Satan's Fraud we see.
Charles is our King, and Rebels, Rebels be.
Then since we ken a Traytor from a Saint,   The
Let's be for God, our King, and *Bel recant.   Rump.
Hee'l dry our Eyes, and cure those Wounds which we
Receiv'd i'th' dark, groping for Liberty:
For Liberty, which kept us all in Fetters,
Slaves to the Rump, and to the Rumps Abetters:
Who Freedom and Religion up cry'd,
When Freedom and Religion they destroy'd,
Who killed us with Plaisters, and brought Hell,
For Paradice: So Eve by th'Serpent fell.
Then if the death o'th'King caus'd all our woe,
The life o'th'King had sav'd us, all men know:
Behold him, in his Son, whose splendid light,
Shall heal the darknesse of his Fathers night.
'Tis madnesse to use Candles in the day:
What need a Parl'ament? when Charles le Roy,
Stands at the door, and to us fain would bring,
Freedom and Laws, instead of Rape and Sin.
The glory of a King is to command,
But Subjects shame to sit, when he doth stand.

God Save the King.   C. B.

   The final section of the book features an engraving of a Shepherd and some Latin and English verses evidently written well before there was any public certainty that Charles would be returning. Of this engraving, marginalia in the copy that once belonged to the private library of Charles comments: "but it has also a 2d Plate which precedes the "Shepherd's Complaint" at the end of the book, & is very seldom found with it. This plate has been by some called `Charles 2d' but it is so unlike that it is not easy to believe it could be meant for his portrait." [reproduce engraving]

   Some of the interest of Duncombes's version of pastoral is his use of the shepherd's voice to express a sense of natural justice in line with the call for law throughout Scutum Regale as a whole. The voice begins with a shepherd's conventional rejection of civic, political, and military ambition in favour of rural contentment, a theme Duncombe maintains throughout. At the same time, the voice nostalgically recalls and comes to personify a self-sufficient England that, disrupted by the civil wars, no longer exists. Personal greed and ambition now drive the men in political office while encouraging others to abandon their former ways of life to seek wealth in foreign lands. The shepherd, however, can still find peace away from it all in rural isolation; the same choice adopted by Astell's urban persona in Vota Non Bella.

   The Latin verses "Pastor Vit' Su'" (sigs. Cc6-Cc8v) are translated as follows:

The Shepherd commending the meanness of his life complains, that since the Heavens and all things else are Governed by a certain rule of Providence, yet that humane affairs go not in so setled a course, because Good men go backward, and Vice only is rewarded.

I am the Man that curbing my desires,
And checking passions, which my mind requires,
Command more largely and more freely sway,
A Scepter, than if Carthage did obey,
5: Or I joyn'd Lydia to the Phrygian shore,
And that to th'Indies, hardly known before.
Under a little roof with house-hold bread,
Securely I a life contented lead,
I care not to approach when Trumpets sound,
10: Calling to arms, on rigid Mars his ground.
His Playes to me are misery and wo.
Nor dare I on the rugged Ocean go,
In Ships; (a thing forbid) but Ah! our times
Do run more fircely to forbidden crimes:
15: I'st nothing think you, thus to stayn the flood,
And fields, through civil War, with noble blood?
But you must adde the sacred blood of Kings?
Fatal to after ages: hoydagings!
Of Law, dread Law! which yielding now gives place,
20: To arms, and Vertue meets with foul disgrace.
But wither now my Boat? you must contain
Your self in Rivers, not run to the Main,
Where threatening Rocks with their obscured head
Swallow you up, when danger least you dread.
25: When therefore 393 night is vanish't, and the day
Appears, inlighten'd with the glorious ray
Of regal Sol, arm'd with my Sheep-herds crook,
With Bag and Bottle hanging by, I look
My Sheep, and to the Fields, whose Green is lost
30: Under the texture of a morning Frost,
I drive them: when the Sun advanc't more high,
In his Diurnal course through th'arched sky,
Makes Grass-hoppers to sing, ith'parched grass.
Then to the Rivers or deep lakes I pass,
35: Driving my Flocks to water, which I lead
Panting through heat, thence to the loved shade.
Where the tall Beech and thicker leaved Oaks
Clashing their friendly arms with mutual stroaks
Make cooler coverts, under which Lambs please
40: To eat, to sport, to play, and take their ease,
How it delights now on my Pipes to play!
Anon my body on the grass to lay,
Seeking to take a nap, while in her song,
Progne bewailing her so grievous wrong
45: In mournfull notes, and all the woody Quire,
With warbling strayns, would perfect my desire.
Then, duskish when it grows, I quick arise,
And give to Pan a Lamb in sacrifice,
Who taught me sacred rimes which while I sing,
50: And lead my Sheep unto the Christal spring,
Their Dugs grow full of milk; but now the Sun
Ready to set, the evening Star is come,
Lo you, (to Shepherds so well known) whose sight
Bids us to fold our Flocks and count them right,
55: Lest some perchance strayd out into the Plain,
Or broke into the Fields repleat with grayn;
Where being taken they become a prey,
To the rude Clown who makes them soon away
Or else perhaps they wandring to the Sheep
60: Of some near neigbouring Shepherd, where they keep
Among the rest, till now through custome bold,
They'r driven to some strange and unknown fold.
Thus, thus I spend my life, and in content
Retir'd from the world my days are spent:
65: I thirst not after Rule, nor do I swell
With lusting after Kingdoms, I can tell
That such ambition's void of all that's good
Stand out for nought, but gorge themselves with blood.
Ah! who will Faith or Piety approve,
70: If good men be condemned, and such as love
Mischief, and Vices, be the only men
Set by and rais'd by Fortune from the den
Of unknown Stocks?
Yee Guardian Angels of this once blest Land
75: Have you still for our good the same command?
{Tis true the glistring Stars and heavenly trayn
{Do still in one continued course remayn
{The Moon doth still encrease & wax & wane,
The Sun keeps on his yearly course whereby
80: The Winter frosts denude the Tree's grown dry;
Which being lately beautified with green,
Yielded a shade most pleasant to be seen,
The Summers heat ripens the corn, and then
It's heat by Autumne is allay'd agen.
85: But wretched man lives without rule or square,
Without proportion all his actions are;
Is Fortune regent that doth blinded go,
And with unequal hands her gifts bestow?
Powr acts by will, and will without restraint
90: Doth what ambition teacheth, and the Saint
Is banish't from the Court: Oh horrid times!
[a] The King 393*
O. Cromwell. &c
Forcing the Britains blindly to obey;
95: But pious Ah in vain for Gold they hast
To th'Indies: True Religion is not plac't
In Wealth or Fortune (surely Heaven denyes
Goodness to bad, though prosperous treacheries.)
Who were the first that brought their private wealth
100: For publick Treasure, & as 'twere by stealth
Made that the lure to sin? Who first found Gold?
And Pearls? not willing to be known from Mould.
Before that time, no jealousies and fears,
No dayly Plots appear'd, no widows tears,
105: Were seen for slaughter'd Husbands, no mad rage
Of civil war corrupted had the age.
No Sword was sharpen'd yet against its King,
But corrupted Faith did duely bring
The People to the Prince with loving zeal
110: (Blest Omens of a happy Commonweal)
The warlike Trumpet was not yet, no blood,
The Wearer, or his Arms had yet embrew'd
The Sea was rugged, free the shore,
All were contented, with a little store,
115: They did possess: the greatest of their boast
Was to have seen and known their proper coast:
But now both Sea and Land are grown too smal
To feed our base ambitious minds withal
Desire to have and get burns now more fierce
120: Then 'tnae's flames, (renown'd by Virgils verse)
Stands ought it'h way? death shall remove the stock
We can bring Kings themselves unto the block
If such may be their fate? O dearest God,
Ironice.      How dreadful are thy Laws! how sharp thy rod!
125: Alas! fool that I was! I once had thought
That just, which now I see is vain and nought.
C'sar though oft forewarn'd at last was slain
By his own Subjects, a rebellious trayn.
But great Augustus on the factious head
130: Of most, revenged C'sar murthered.395
But Ah! for Martyr'd Charls what man or State
Will vengeance seek before it be too late?
O come Great God, we pray thee at the length,
For without thee, vain is our help or strength.
135: Let Charls the second in thy care be chief
Guard him, and give to his Affairs relief;
Preserve him safe, and when he will demand
His right from English Rebels, guide his hand,
Make them to know that thou dost Rule on high,
140: Strike them with Lightning from the thundring Sky.
Revenge his Fathers guiltlesse death on them,
While there remains or Root, or Branch, or Stem.
But whether now my Muse, where wilt thou croud?
Among the Shrubs it fits me best to shroud:
145: And not to climb the Cedar proud 396 and tall,
Lest while I seek to rise, I climb to fall,
Honor or Hopes calls most men to the Court,
Where one being wrought on by the great resort,
Is straightway struck, and shortly hopes to be
150: Seen in the City in full Majestie.
Another with much labour, toyl, and pain,
Would fain climb high, but all his labour's vain.
This courts Gemmes and Gold, nor th'Indians can,
Nor Europe sate the hunger of this man,
155: Nor fertile Lybia's plentifullest store,
But as he gets, so still he covets more.
Another to the people shews his tayl;
Boasts his descent, that so he may prevayl,
To draw the Fish into his Net: and there
160: Another for his valour doth appear,
And in the Publique place himself presents,
Spoyls of his Foes, his new got Ornaments.
A rustick shepherds life doth laugh on me
More sweet, than all the lives that be.
165: I, in my meaner way, great things deride:
For why, I know the vales have seldome try'd
The force of thundring Jove, when mountains high
Have trembled at his threatning Majesty.
The meat and drink purchas't by me, is not
170: Bought with the treasure of much goods ill-got,
My sleep's unguarded, I fear not to dye,
But in my little cot securely lye:
Not troubled with the noise of men, or drums,
No trumpet there or horseman ever comes.
175: Oft when I rise, I sit a little while
Upon my fragrant bed of Camomile:
The Strawberries that in the thickets thrive,
My faintest hunger serve away to drive:
And pleasant apples (as my Grandsire first)
180: So do they serve to quench my greatest thirst:
While Great ones drink in gold, poison and blood,
I drink clear water out of wholsome wood.
Thus do I passe my time, harmlesse to all
But birds, for whom I make some new pit-fall.
185: Thus stranger to the world, yet to my self
Known, shall I dye, and leave this wordly pelf.
But, Sol withdrawing, the approaching night
And Starres appearing, do to sleep invite.

[393] therefore] therefote copytext, WF

[393*] When [a] Vertue bears the punish-ment of Crimes: And Wolves pretending harmles-nesse bear sway.

[394] ie: Augustus revenged the murder of Caesar by punishing most of the leaders of the faction.

[395] proud] L1, WF etc prond L3


ACcept these lines, which I have plainly writ,
Though not adorn'd with curious Art or wit,
And thou shalt be my Patron, at whose beck
My Muse shall hoist her sailes, or give them check,
5: So may I chance hereafter to relate
Some things more solid, and of greater weight.
And as our Palat's pleas'd with various fare,
So is our mind with studies choice and rare:
All things have changes: ev'n the Law it self
10: May lye and gather cob-webs on the shelf,
Though they be thine (grave Cook) 396 who did revise,
And mend the same, or Plowden 397 grave and wise:
But I love various learning, and so do
Make it my study, and my pastime too:
15: And thus while others play at Cards, or Drink
Away their time, I on Apollo think,
And pray his favour, that he will admit
Me from the Muses fount to sip some wit.

1659. Yours in all officiousness and Love most obliged

[396] Cook: who is this??

[397] Edmund Plowden, jurist, whose collections of cases (written in French) were of considerable importance -- DNB