That he believes the devil's in't?

Or hath he said there never were
Such tyrants anywhere as here?
Though this offence of his be high,
He's pardon'd for his blasphemy.

You see how large this pardon is,
It pardons all our MERCURIES, (37)
And poets too, for you know they
Are poor, and have not aught to pay.

For where there's money to be got,
I find this pardon pardons not;
Malignants that were rich before,
Shall not be pardon'd till they're poor.

Hath any one been true to th' Crown,
And for that paid his money down,
By this new Act he shall be free,
And pardon'd for his loyalty.

Who have their lands confiscate quite,
For not compounding when they might;
If that they know not how to dig,
This pardon gives them leave to beg.

Before this Act came out in print,
We thought there had been comfort in't;
We drank some healths to the higher powers,