jesting Of all the year it was Ash-wednesday This pious Reformer set apart for his Feasting When all good Christians should Fast and Pray With a ran tan the Devil is dead The Souldiers in clusters throng'd for place To see this Monster of their own making And said it was a Protectors grace But that it wanted not much of A King With a ran tan the Devil is dead The Bucks of the City in herds were met And were paled in with a very good fence But what their Does did I cannot tell yet Of that ye may hear three quarters hence With a ran tan the Devil is dead With that the Recorder marcht up to the Hall With a dish of Divinity drest for his pallate And laid before him a shoulder of Saul With a savory simily by for a salate With a ran tan the Devil is dead His Highnesse commanded to lay it by 'T was fit for his people he 'd make it known And they should have it good reason why For they wanted more shoulders than their own With a ran tan the Devil is dead A dish of Delinquents heads in a Charger Was sent as a present from Goldsmiths Hall He wisht his stomack ten times larger Yet made a long neck and poach'd them all With a ran tan the Divil is dead A Prelate was next and to him he buckles With a Bishoprick truss'd before and behinde His Highness was in with him up to the knuckles And to his own kitchin the skuers assign'd With a ran tan the Divel is dead His Highness then calld ' for a boule of Canary And drank so deep that it made him reel He toss'd it to Lambert and Lambert to Harry And Harry to the Mayor and the Mayor to Steel With a ran tan the Devil is dead When Dinner was ended away to the banquet Where snatching of Sugar-plums one from another Hâ—l fill'd up his pockets and said God be thanked And carried them home to his Lady Mother With a ran tan the Devil is dead Then his Highness commanded the Mayor to kneel The Beast of the City was soon on his knees He made him a Knight with iron and steel And bid him rise up and pay him his fees With a ran tan the Devil is dead Up rose my Lords worship and made him a leg With that the Knight-maker did give him the Sword His Highnesse did spice him without a nutmeg When he made a bad Knight of a pittifull Lord. With a ran tan the Devil is dead When he left the City he broke a jest His words were pithy and I 'le repeat them Farewell quoth his Highness thou spur-gall'd Beast Fools make the Feasts and wise men eat them With a ran tan the Devil is dead FINIS RUMP SONGS The Second Part. The Re-resurrection of the RUMP Or Rebellion and Tyranny revived To the Tune of the Blacksmith IF none be offended with the scent Though I foul my mouth I 'le be content To sing of the Rump of a Parliament Which no body can deny I have sometimes fed on a Rump in Sowse And a man may imagine the Rump of a Lowse But till now was ne're heard of the Rump of a House Which no body can deny There 's a Rump of Beef and the Rump of a Goose And a Rump whose neck was hang'd in a Noose But ours is a Rump can play fast and loose Which no body can deny A Rump had Jane Shore and a Rump Messaleen And a Rump had Antonies resolute Queen But such a Rump as ours is never was seen Which no body can deny Two short years together we English have scarce Been rid of thy Rampant Nose Old Mars But now thou hast got a prodigious Arse Which no body can deny When the parts of the Body did all fall out Some Votes it is like did pass for the Snout But that the Rump should be King was never a doubt Which no body can deny A Cat has a Rump and a Cat has nine Lives Yet when her Head 's off her Rump never strives But our Rump from the Grave hath made two Retrives Which no body can deny That the Rump may all their Enemies quail They 'll borrow the Devills Coat of Mayl And all to defend their Estate in Tayl. Which no body can deny But though their scale now seems to be th'upper There 's no need of the charge of a Thanksgiving supper For if they be the Rump the Armi's their Crupper Which no body can deny There 's a Saying belongs to the Rump Which is good although it be worn to the stump That on the Buttocks I 'le give thee a Thump Which no body can deny There 's a Proverb in which the Rump claims a part Which hath in it more of Sence than of Art That for all you can do I care not a Fart Which no body can deny There 's another Proverb gives the Rump for his Crest But Alderman Atkins made it a Jest That of all kind of Lucks shitten Luck is the best Which no body can deny There 's another Proverb that never will fail That the good the Rump will do when they prevail Is to give us a Flop with a Fox-tail Which no body can deny There is a Saying which is made by no Fools I never can hear on 't but my heart it cools That the Rump will spend all we have in Close-stools Which no body can deny There 's an Observation wise and deep Which without an Onion will make me to weep That Flyes will blow Maggots in the Rump of a Sheep Which no body can deny And some that can see the wood from the trees Say this sanctified Rump in time we may leese For the Cooks do challenge the Rumps for their Fees Which no body can deny When the Rump do sit wee 'l make it our Moan That a Reason be enacted if there be not one Why a Fart hath a tongue and a Fyest hath none Which no body can deny And whilst within the Walls they lurk To satisfie us will be a good work Who hath most Religion the Rump or the Turk Which no body can deny A Rump's a Fag-end like the baulk of a Furrow And is to the whole like the Jail to the Burrough 'T is the Bran that is left when the Meal is run thorough Which no body can deny Consider the VVorld the Heav'n is the Head on 't The Earth is the middle and we men are fed on 't But Hell is the Rump and no more can be sed on 't Which no body can deny Flectere si nequeunt Superos Acharonta movebunt A New-Years-Gift for the RUMP YOu may have heard of the Politick Snout Or a tale of a Tub with the bottom out But scarce of a Parliament in a shitten Clout Whih no body can deny 'T was Atkins first serv'd this Rump in with Mustard The sawce was a compound of Courage and Custard Sir Vane bless'd the Creature Nol snufled blusterd Which no body can deny
Monster Did strait beget a Rout This Rout begat a Parliament As Charles he well remembers The Parliament got Monsters too The which begot Five Members The Members Five did then beget Most of the House of Peers The Peers mis-understandings got All Jealousies and Fears The Jealousies got Horse and Men Lest Warrs should have abounded And I dare say this Horse got Pym And he begot a Round-head The Round-head got a Citizen That great Tax-bearing Mule The Mule begot a Parliament Asse And he begot a Fool Some say the Fool got Warwick And Rich gave him his whole Land In zeal Lord Rich got God knows who And God knows who got H This H Surplices got down And those Church Rites that were He hath Petitions enough each day No need of the Lords Prayer But it 's no wonder that 's cry'd down And that indeed the rather Cause Pym and he two Bastards are And dare not say Our Father Now since this is the chiefest thing Hath got this great division Which London for to reconcile Hath got this great Munition The City hath now been refin'd From all her Drosse and Pelf They 're now about for to new mold And Coyn the Common-wealth To those who desire no Peace SHould all those various Gales whose titles are layn Enrol'd within the Pilots Register Break from their drowsie Dens where they have Bound up in slumbers and invade the Main They could not raise a storm like that which they Raise in the Common-wealth who would betray Our Peace to Civil War in which the State Must bleed it self to death and have the fate After its stock of life is spent to lye Buried i' th Rubbish of an Anarchy Should Ravens Bats and the shrill Owl conspire To twist their Notes into a General Quire And chuse the Mandrake for the Chaunter they Could not shrill forth such an ill-boding lay Or strains so Jarring as do those whose throats Warble the clamorous and untunefull Notes Of Blood and Death some whirle-wind Sirs has ta'en Its Lodging up in the Fanatick brain Of these bold sons of tumult I dare say They moulded were of some distemper'd Clay Which from its Centre was by Earth-quake torn A Tempest shook the world when they were born Sure from its Sphere the Element of Fire Is dropt and does their bosomes now inspire The flame lockt up in bold Ravillacks urne Is snatcht from thence and in their hearts does burn Night open thy black wombe and let out all Thy dreadfull furies yet these furies shall Not chill my heart with any fear since day Has furies shewn blacker by far then they Let Vaux now sleep untill the day of Doom Open his eyes forgotten in his Tomb Let none revile his dust his Name shall be Extirpated from every History To yield a room for others for 't is fit Their Names in place of his should now be writ Who think that no Religion can be good Unlesse 't be writ in Characters of Blood No marvail if the Rubrick then must be Blotted from out the Sacred Liturgie And those red Letters now no more be known They 'le have no other Rubrick but their own But shall they thus impetuously roule on And meet not any Malediction Yes sure may sleep that milde and gentle balme Which all unkind distempers does becalme Be unto them a torture may their Dreams Be all of Murders Rapes and such like Theams And when they 're spent may Wolves approach and howle To break their slumbers may the Bat and Owle Before their Gates to usher in the dayes Unwellcome light stretch out their direfull layes ' Mongst their disordered humors may there be A deadly Feud and fatal mutiny May sudden flames their houses melt away And Feavers burn their houses too of Clay May all their faculties and sences be Astonisht by some drousie Lethargie That there may be allow'd them only sence Enough to feel the pangs of Conscience Griping their souls that they who thought it sin To have peace without may have no peace within The French Report ME have of late been in England Vere me have seen much sport De raising of de Parliament Have quite pull'd down de Court De King and Queen dey seperate And rule in Ignorance Pray judge ye Gentlemen if dis Be a la mode de France A vise man dere is like a Ship Dat strikes upon de shelves Dey Prison all Behead and Whip All viser den demselves Dey send out men to fetch deyr King Who may come home perchance Oh fye fye fye it is be Gar Not a la mode de France Dey raise deyr Valiant Prentices To guard deyr Cause with Clubs Dey root deyr Bishops out of doors And Presh demselves in Tubs De Cobler and de Tinker too Dey will in time advance Pox take dem all it is Mort Dieu Not a la mode de France Instead of bowing to deyr King Dey vex him with Epistles Dey furnish all deyr Souldiers out With Bodkins Spoons and Whistles Dey bring deyr Gold and Silver in De Brownists to advance But if dey be cheat of it all ' Tiz a la mode de France But if when all deyr wealth is gone Dey turn unto deyr King Dey will make all amends again Den merrily we will sing VIVE LE ROY VIVE LE ROY Vee'le Sing Carouse and Dance De English men have done for t Bon And a la mode de France A Loyal Subjects Oath THis is my Oath for ever to despise With heart and soul and all my Faculties The Kings proud foes and with my life subdue All that to his Sacred Majesty are not true To execute his Precepts with my Blood So far as Conscience dictates it is good To make my body a Bullwark ' gainst his foes And to maintain his red and whitest Rose Venture Life and Living Sword and Muse Still to uphold the Glorious Flower-de-luce To be the same to Prince and Duke of York Or for a cursed Jew that eats no Pork Let me be Cursed and receive the Curse Hangs over Pym and Hotham and a worse I cannot wish he that denyes this Oath Let these and my Curse light upon them both Short and Sweet WIse men suffer good men grieve Knaves devise and Fools believe Help O Lord send ayd unto us Else Knaves and Fools will quite undoe us To the City of London TEll me Cittz what ye lack That the Knaves of the Pack Ye do not see forth comming Love ye Treason so well That ye neither buy nor sell But keep a noise with your Drumming What is 't that you guard With your double watch and ward Your own wares or your wises things If down come the Blades Then down go the Trades They 'll not leave a dead or a live thing What doth your profit say When shall we see the day That money shall be paid in Great Strafford he is dead Ye have cut off his bead And the Bishops all are laid in And yet you grow poor As any
Soveraign to be their Slave Desiring him that he would be Betray'd to them most loyally For it were Meeknesse sure in him To be a Vice-Roy unto Pym And if he would a while lay down His Scepter Majestie and Crown He should be made for time to come The greatest Prince in Christendom Charles at this time not having need Thank'd them as much as if he did This is the happy wish'd event Of Privilege of Parliament Pym that ador'd Publicola Who play'd the base Who got a Lust to sacrifice The HeroeÌ„ to the Peoples Eyes Whose back-from-Hell-fetch'd-knaverie By some is nick-nam'd policie Would be a Lyon with a pox When at the best hee 's but a Fox And just like him that set on fire The hallowed Ephesian Spire Hath purchas'd to be largely known In that he is an Addage grown All this to honest John is lent By Privilege of Parliament The Valiant House was not afeard To pull our Aaron by the Beard To hide dark deeds from Gazers sights Strove to blow out the Churches Lights That squares might run round as their head They long to have the Rochet sped They Vote down Universities Lest men from thence become too wise And their benighted deeds display Whose works of darknesse hate the day Hence they prefer in every Town The Petticoat before the Gown These blessings to the Land are sent By Privilege of Parliament They put forth Orders Declarations Unacted Laws and Protestations Oâ— which all can be said is this The whole is one Parenthesis Because the sence without all doubt Were ne're the lesse were all left out Petitions none must be presented But what are by themselves invented Else they not heal but Cicatrize And from the cure a Scar doth rise Though Holy Cut the fault commit Yet â—ong tail must be paid for it Unto this wound was laid a Tent By Privilege of Parliament They paid the Scottish debt and thus To be more honest they rob'd us They feed the poor with what think ye Why sure with large Calamity And once a month they think it fitting To fast from sin because from sitting They would have winde and storms supprest To drive the Hallcyon from her Nest Charles is a Picture they make bold To use the Scepter he should hold They'd pull down one but give as good A Golden Crown made up of Wood And thus is Justice justly rent By Privilege of Parliament The Call Hoe Yes IF there be any Traytor Viper or Wigeon That will fight against God for the true Religion That to maintain the Parliaments Votes Of all true Subjects will cut the throats That for the King and his Countries good Will consume all the Land with Fire and Blood I say If any such Traytor Viper Mutineer be born Let him repair to the Lord with the double gilt Horn. Englands Woe I Mean to speak of Englands sad fate To help in mean time the King and his Mate That 's ruled by an Antipodian State Which no body can deny But had these seditious times been when We had the life of wise Poet Ben Parsons had never been Parliament men Which no body can deny Had Statesmen read the Bible throughout And not gone by the Bible so round about They would have ruled themselves without doubt Which no body can deny But Puritans now bear all the sway They 'll have no Bishops as most men say But God send them better another day Which no body can deny Zealous P has threatned a great downfall To cut off long locks that is bushy and small But I hope he will not take ears and all Which no body can deny P Burton sayes women that 's lewd and loose Shall wear no stallion locks for a bush They 'll only have private boyes for their use Which no body can deny They 'll not allow what pride it brings Nor favours in hats nor no such things They 'll convert all ribbands to Bible strings Which no body can deny God blesse our King and Parliament And send he may make such K repent That breed our Land such discontent Which no body can deny And blesse our Queen and Prince also And all true Subjects both high and low The Brownings can pray for themselves you know Which no body can deny Upon Ambition Occasioned by the Accusation of the Earl of STRAFFORD in the year 1640. HOw uncertain is the State Of that greatnesse we adore When Ambitiously we sore And have ta'en the glorious height 'T is but Ruine gilded o're To enslave us to our fate Whose false Delight is easier got then kept Content ne'er on its gaudy Pillow slept Then how fondly do we try With such superstitious care To build Fabricks in the Ayr Or seek safety in that sky Where no Stars but Meteors are That portend a ruine nigh And having reacht the object of our ayme We find it but a Pyramid of flame The Argument WHen the unfetter'd Subjects of the Seas The Rivers found their silver feet at ease No sooner summon'd but they swiâ—tly went To meet the Ocean at a Parliament Did not the petty Fountains say their King The Ocean was no Ocean but a Spring As now some do the Power of Kings dispute And think it lesse ' cause more is added to 't Pale Ignorance can the excesse of store Make him seem poorer then he was before The Stars the Heavens inferiour Courtiers may Govern Nights Darknesse but not rule the Day Where the Sun Lords it should they all Combine With Lucia in her brightest dresse to shine Their light 's but faint Nor can he be subdu'd Although but one and they a Multitude Say Subjects are you Stars be it allow'd You justly of your numbers may be proud But to the Sun inferiour for know this Your Light is borrow'd not your Own but His And as all streams into the Ocean run You ought to pay your Contribution Then do not such Ingratitude oppresse To make him low that could have made you lesse The Character of a Roundhead 1641. WHat Creature 's this with his short hairs His little band and huge long ears That this new faith hath founded The Puritans were never such The Sanits themselves had ne'er so much Oh such a knave 's a Rounded What 's he that doth the Bishops hate And count their Calling reprobate Cause by the Pope propounded And saies a zealous Cobler's better Then he that studieth every letter Oh such a knave 's a Roundhead What 's he that doth high Treason say As often as his yea and nay And wish the King confounded And dare maintain that Master Pym Is fitter for the Crown then him Oh such a rogue 's a Roundhead What 's he that if he chance to hear A piece of London's Common-Prayer Doth think his Conscience wounded And goes five miles to preach and pray And lyes with 's Sister by the way Oh such a rogue 's a Roundhead What 's he that met a holy Sister And in an Hay-cock gently kist her Oh! then
a new Thanks-giving This made Mr. Case with a pittifull face In the Pulpit to fall a weeping Though his mouth utter'd lyes truth fell from his eyes VVhich kept our Lord Maior from sleeping Now shut up shops and spend your last drops For the Laws of your Cause you that loath 'um Lest Essex should start and play the Second part Of Worshipfull Sir John Hotham The Battel of Worcester ALl you that be true to the King the State Come listen and I le tell you what happen'd of late In a large field near Worcesters gate Which no body can deny Brave Sir John Byron true to the Crown VVith forces too few t is very well known VVent thither 't is said to keep the Town Which no body can deny But whether 't was true ye have learn'd to guess As for my own part I think no lesse To give you a taste of our Future successe Which mo body can deny Thither came Fines with armes Complete The Town to take and Byron defeat Provisions were made but he staid not to eat Which no body can deny But as soon as he heard our great Guns play VVith a Flea in 's ear he ran quite away Like the lawfull begotten Son of Lord Say Which no body c. Nay had the old Crop-ear'd his Father dar'd To approach the walls his design had bin marr'd For Byron would not have proved a VVard Which no body can deny Pox on him he keeps his Patent yet But I hope next Term he shall not fit 'T was but quam diu se bene Gesserit Which no body c. But now behold increased in force Hee comes again with ten Troups of Horse Oh bloudy-Man he had no remorse Which no body c. They marched up boldly without any fear Little thinking Prince Rupert was come so near But alas poor souls it cost them dear Which no body c. The Prince like a Gallant man of his trade Marcht out of the Town till this quarter was made Sir the Enemies are near at hand it is said Which no body c. Where where are they Prince Rupert cryes And looking about with fiery eyes Some thirty behind a hedge he spyes Which no body c. This Forlorn-hope he no sooner saw But 4. or 5. more did towards them draw He asked who 's there one answer'd him haw Which no body c. The man you 'll say was rudely bred The Prince shot a Bullet into his head His haw had been better spared then said Which no body c. Prince Maurice then to second his Brother Discharg'd his Pistol and down fell another 'T were pitty but news were sent to his Mother Which no body c. Lord Digby slew one to his great fame So did Monsieur de Lislâ— and Sir Rich. Crane And another French man with a harder name Which no body c. Prince Rupert to his own Force retired And bad them not shoot till their Doublets were fired His Courage and Conduct were both admired Which no body c. He Charged but twice yet made them shrink 'T were hard to get off now one would think Yet both can do it as easie as drink Which no body c. Then have amongst ye quoth Sir Lewes Dives For a good Cause you know alwayes thrives His heart in his shoulders cost many mens lives Which no body c. John Byron did as bravely fight To the Prince of Wales his great delight He came home in safety and was made a Knight Which no body c. My Friend David Walter in Doublet white Without any Armes either rusty or bright Charg'd through them twice like a little spright Which no body c. But oh Prince Maurice where was he Where one of us would be loath to be Surrounded with Butchers three times three Which no body c. These men of East-cheap little said But all their blows at his head they made As if they had been at work at their Trade Which no body c. Then came a French-man fiery and keen He broke the Ring and came in between Ere a man let a not a Butcher was seen Which no body c. Brave Lord Wilmot by whose hands did fall Many a Rebell stout and tall Came to him without any Armes at all Which no body c. Their Horses then close up they spur'd The wounds they gave were all with the Sword Their Pistols proved not worth a Which no body c. But the Parliament having quite forgot To Vote that Sandys should not be shot By the hand of a Mounsier he went to the pot Which no body c. Douglas a Scotch-man of great fame Was slain that day for want of the same The Houses in this were much to blame Which no body c. Of all their chief Commanders that day I hold it fit I should something say His name was Brown and he ran away Which no body c. If a few more o 'em should shew such a freak Both Houses surely would quickly break And honester men would have leave to speak Which no body c. They fly they fly Prince Rupert cry'd No sooner said but away they hy'd The force of his Armes they durst not abide Which no body can deny Smectymnuus or the Club-Divines SMectymnuus the Goblin makes me start I' th' Name of Rabbi Abraham what art Syriack or Arabick or Welch what skilt Ap all the Brick-layers that Babel built Some Conjurer translate and let me know it Till then 't is fit for a West-Saxon Poet. But do the Brother-hood then play their Prizes Like Mummers in Religion with disguises Out-brave us with a name in Rank and File A name which if 't were train'd would spread a Mile The Saints monopolie the zealous cluster Which like the Porcupine presents a muster And shoots his quills at Bishops and their Sees A Devont litter of young Maccabees Thus Jack of all trades hath devoutly shown The twelve Apostles on a cherry-stone Thus fashion's Al-a-Mode in Treasons fashion Now we have heresie by Complication Like to Don Quixots Rosary of slaves Strung on a chain a Murnival of Knaves Packt in a trick like Gypsies when they ride Or like Colleagues which fit all on a side So the vain Satyrists stand all a row As hollow teeth upon a Lute-string show Th' Italian Monster pregnant with his Brother Natures Diaeresis half one another He with his little sides-man Lazarus Must both give way unto Smectymnuus Next Sturbridge Fair is Smecks for lo his side Into a five-fold Lezar's multipli'd Under each arm there 's tuckt a double gyssard Five faces lurk under one single vizard The Whore of Babylon left these brats behind Heirs of confusion by Gavelkind I think Pythagoras's foul is rambl'd hither With all the change of Rayment on together Smec is her general Ward-robe shee 'l not dare To think of him as of a thorough fare He stops the Gossiping Dame alone he is The purlew of a Metempsichosis
their King For the Brewer had the world in a sling Which no body can deny He scorneth all Laws and Martial stops But whips an Army as round as tops And cuts off his foes as thick as hops Which no body can deny He dives for Riches down to the bottom And cryes my Masters when he had got um Let every tub stand upon his own bottom Which no body can deny In War-like acts he scorns to stoop For when his Army begins to droop He draws them up us round as a hoop Which no body can deny The Jewish Scots that scorns to eat The flesh of Swine and Brewers beat 'T was the sight of this hogs-head made 'um retreat Which no body can deny Poor Jockie and his basket hilt Was beaten and much blood was spilt And their bodies like barrels did run a tilt Which no body can deny Though Jemy gave the first assault The Brewer at last made them to halt And left them what the Cat left in the Mault Which no body can deny They cry'd that Antichrist came to settle Religion in a Cooler and a Kettle For his Nose and Copper were both of one mettle Which no body can deny Some Christian King began to quake And said with the Brewer no quarrels we 'll make We 'll let him alone as he Brews let him Bake Which no body can deny He hath a strong and very stout heart And thought to be made an Emperor for 't But the Devil put a spoke in his Cart Which no body can deny If any intended to do him disgrace His fury would take off his head in the place He alway did carry his Furnesse in his face Which no body can deny But yet by the way you must understand He kept his foes so under command That Pride could never get the upper hand Which no body can deny He was a stout Brewer of whom we may brag But now he is hurried away with a hag He brew'd in a bottle and bak'd in a bag Which no body can deny And now may all stout Souldiers say Farewell the glory of the day For the Brewer himself is turn'd to clay Which no body can deny Thus fell the brave Brewer the bold son of slaughter We need not to fear what shall follow after For he dealt all his life time in fire and water Which no body can deny And if his Successor had had but his might We had not been in a pittifull plight But he was found many grains too light Which no body can deny Let 's leave off singing and drink off our Bub Wee 'll call for a Reckoning and every man Club For I think I have told you a Tale of a Tub. Which no body can deny In imitation of Come my Daphne a Dialogue between Pluto and Oliver Pluto COme Imp Royal come away Into black night we will turn bright day Oliver 'T is Pluto calls what would my Syre Pluto Come follow to the Stygian fire Where Ireton doth wait To welcome thee in state Oliver Were I in bed with Lamberts wife I 'de quit those joyes for such a life Pluto My Princely Nol make hast For thee we keep a Fast Oliver In these dismal shades will I Unto thee unfold my Villany Pluto In my bosome I 'll thee lay For thy sake wee 'l all keep holyday Chorus Wee 'l rage and roar and fry in flames And Charles himself shall see How damn'dly we agree Yet scorn to change our Chains For his eternal diety A Quarrel betwixt Tower-hill and Tyburn I 'LE tell you a Story that never was told A tale that hath both head and heel And though by no Recorder inroll'd I know you will find it as true as steel When General Monck was come to the Town A little time after the Rump had the rout When Loyalty rose and Rebellion fell down They say that Tower-hill and Tyburne fell out Qâ—oth terrible Tyburne to lofty Tower-hill Thy longed-for daies are come at last And now thou wilt dayly thy belly fulfill With King-killers bloud whilst I must fast The High Court of Justice will come to the Bar There to be cooked and dressed for thee Whilst I that live out of Town so far Must only be fed by Fellony If Treason be counted the foulest fact And dying be a Traytor 's due Then why should you all the glory exact You know they are sitter for me than you To speak the plain truth I have groan'd for them long For when they had routed the Royal Root And done the Kingdom so much wrong I knew at the last they would come to 't When Titchburne sate upon the Benâ—h Twirling his Chain in high degree With a Beardless Chin like a withered Wench Thought I the Bar is fitter for thee But then with stately composed face Tower-hill to Tyburne made reply Do not complain in such a Case Thou shalt have thy share as well as I. There are a sort of Mongrils which My Lordly Scaffold will disgrace I know Hugh Peters his fingers itch To make a Pulpit of the place But tâ—ke him Tyburn he is thine own Divide his quarterâ— with thy â—â—ife Who did pollute with fâ—â—sh and â—e The quarters of the Butchers wife The next among these Petticoat-Peers Is Harry Martin take him thither But he hath been addle so many years That I fear he will hardly hang together There 's Hacker zealous Tom Harrison too That boldly defends the bloudy deed He practizeth what the Jesuites do To murder his King as a part of his Creed There 's single-eyed Hewson the Cobler of Fate Translated into Buff and Feather But bootless are all his seams of State When the soul is unript from the upper-leather Is this prophane mechanical Brood For me that have been dignfy'd With loyal Land and Straffords blood And holy Hewet who lately dy'd Do thou contrive with deadly Dun To send them to the River of Stix 'T is pitty since those Saints are gone That Martyrs and Murtherers bloud should mix Then do not fear me that I will Deprive thee of that fatal Day 'T is fit those that their King did kill Sould hang up in the Kings high-way My Priviledge though I know it is large Into thy hand I 'le freely give it For there is Cook that read the Kings Charge Is only fit for the Devils tribute Then taunting Tyburn in great scorn Did make Tower-hill this rude reply So much rank bloud my stomack will turn And thou shalt be sick as well as I. These Traytors made those Martyrs bleed Upon the Block that thou dost bear And there it is fit they should dye for the deed But Tower-hill cryed they shall not come there With that grim Tyburn began to fret And Tower-hill did look very grim And sure as a Club they both would have met But that the City did step between The Bloody Bed-roll or Treason displayed in its Colours Triumphing News for Cavaliers The Rump smells strong cast out by th' Peers OLd OLIVER's
The Right was then in Old Olivers Nose But when the Devil of that did dispose It descended from thence to the Rump in the cloze Which no body can deny Nor is it likely there to stay long The Retentive Faculties being gone The Juggle is stale and Mony there 's none Which no body can deny The Secluded Members made a Tryal To Enter but them the Rump did defie all By the Ordinance of Self-denyal Which no body can deny Our Politique Doctors do us Teach That a Blood-sucking Red-coat's as good as a Leech To Relieve the Head if applyed to the Breech Which no body can deny But never was such a Worm as Vane When the State scour'd last it voided him then Yet now he 's crept into the Rump again Which no body can deny Ludlow's Fart was a Prophetique Trump There was never any thing so Jump T was the very Type of a Vote of this Rump Which no body can deny They say 't is good Luck when a Body rises With the Rump upward but he that advises To Live in that Posture is none of the wisest Which no body can deny The Reason is worse though the rime be untoward When things proceed with the wrong end forward But they talk of sad news to the Rump from the Norward VVhich no body can deny 'T was a wonderfull thing the strength of that Part At a Blast it will take you a Team from a Cart And Blow a Man's Head away with a Fart VVhich no body can deny When our Brains are Sunck below the Middle And our Consciences steer'd by the hey down-diddle Then things will go round without a Fiddle VVhich no body can deny You may order the City with a Hand-Granado Or the General with a Bastonado But no way for a Rump like a Carbonado VVhich no body can deny To make us as famous in Counsel as VVars Here 's Lenthal a Speaker for mine And Fleetwood is a Man of Mars VVhich no body can deny 'T is pitty that Nedhams Fall'n into Disgrace For he orders a Bum with a marvailous Grace And ought to attend the Rump by his Place VVhich no body can deny Yet this in despight of all Disasters Although he hath Broken the Heads of his Masters 'T is still his Profession to give 'em all Plasters VVhich no body can deny Let 'em cry down the Pope till their Throats are sore Their Design was to bring him in at the back door For the Rump has a mind to the Scarlet-whore VVhich no body can deny And this is a truth at all hands confest However unskillfull in any of the rest The Rump speaks the Language of the Beast VVhich no body can deny They talk that Lambert is like to be try'd For Treason and Buggery beside Because that he did the Rump bestride VVhich no body can deny The Rump's an old Story if well understood 'T is a thing dress'd up in a Parliaments Hood And lik't but the Taile stands where the Head should VVhich no body can deny 'T would make a man scratch where it does not itch To see forty Fools heads in one Politick breech And that hugging the Nation as the Devil did the VVitch VVhich no body can deny From rotten Members preserve our VVives From the mercy of a Rump our Estates and our Lives For they must needs go whom the Devil drives Which no body can deny A New Ballad To an Old Tune Tom of Bedlam Make room for an honest Red-coat And that you 'l say's a wonder The Gun and the Blade Are his Tools and his Trade Is for Pay to Kill and Plunder Then away with the Laws And the Good Old Cause Ne'r talk o' the Rump or the Charter 'T is the Cash does the feat All the rest 's but a Cheat VVithout That there 's no Faith nor Quarter 'T is the Mark of our Coin GOD WITH US And the Grace of the Lord go along with 't When the Georges are flown Then the Cause goes down For the Lord is departed from it Then away c. For Rome or for Geneva For the Table or the Altar This spawn of a Vote He cares not a Groat For the Pence hee 's your dog in a Halter Then away c. Tho' the Name of King or Bishop To Nostrils pure may be Loathsom Yet many there are That agree with the Maior That their Lands are wondrous toothsom Then away c. When our Masters are Poor we Leave 'em 'T is the Golden Calf we bow too VVe kill and we slay Not for Conscience but Pay Give us That wee 'l fight for you too Then away c. 'T was That first turned the King out The Lords next then the Commons 'T was that kept up Nol Till the Devil fetch'd his Soul And then it set the Bum on 's Then away c. Drunken Dick was a Lame Protector And Fleetwood a Backslider These we served as the rest But the City 's the Beast That will never cast her Rider Then away c When the Maior holds the Stirrop And the Shreeves cry God speed your Honours Then 't is but a Jump And up goes the Rump That will spur to the Devil upon us Then away c. And now for a fling at your Thimbles Your Bodkins Rings and VVhistles In truck for your Toyes We 'll fit you with Boyes 'T is the doctrine of Hugh's Epistles Then away c. When your Plate is gone and your Jewells You must next be entreated To part with your Bags And strip you to Rags And yet not think y' are cheated Then away c. The truth is the Town deserves it 'T is a Brainless Heartless Monster At a Clubb they may Bawl Or Declare at their Hall And yet at a push not one stir Then away c. Sir Arthur vows he 'll treat 'em Far worse than the Men of Chester He 's Bold now they 're Cow'd But was nothing so Lowd When he lay in the ditch at Lester Then away c. The Lord hath left John Lambert And the Spirit Feaks Anointed But why oh Lord Hast thou sheathed thy Sword Lo thy Saints are disappointed Then away c. Tho' Sir Henry be departed Sir John makes good the place now And to help on the work Of the Glorious Kirk Our Brethren march apace too Then away c. While Divines and States-men wrangle Let the Rump-ridden Nation bite on 't There are none but we That are sure to go free For the Souldier's still in the right on 't Then away c. If our Masters won't supply us With Mony Food and Clothing Let the State look to 't We 'll ha' one that will do 't Let him live we 'll not damn for nothing Then away with the Laws And the Good Old Cause Ne'r talk o' the Rump or the Charter 'T is the Cash does the Feat All the rest 's but a Cheat Without That there 's no Faith nor Quarter The Breech wash'd by a Friend to the RUMP To the
Tune of Old Simon the King IN an humour of late I was Yeleped a dolefull dump Thought I we 're at a fine pass Not a man stands up for the Rump But le ts be lashed o'r and o'r While it lies like a senceless Fop. 'T would make a man a Whore To see a Tail tew'd like a Top. Though a Rump be a dangerous bit And many a Knave runs mad on 't Yet verily as it may hit An honest man may be glad on 't To abuse a poor Blind Creature I had like to have said and a Dumb But now it has gotten a Speaker And Say is the Mouth of the Bum When Besse rul'd the Land there was no man Complain'd and yet now they rail I beseech you what differs a Woman From a thing that 's all Tongue and Tayle Though a Rump c. The Charter we 've sworn to defend And propagate the Cause What call ye those of the Rump-end But Fundamental Laws The Case is as clear as the Day There had been no Reformation If the Rump had claw'd it away You had had no Propagation Though a Rump c. As a Bodie 's the better for a Purge Tho' the Guts may be troubled with Gripes So the Nation will mend with a Scourge Tho' the Tayle may be sick of the Stripes Ill humours to conveigh When the State hath taken a Looseness Who can hold what will away The Rump must do the Business Though a Rump c. The bold Cavalier in the Field That laughs at your Sword and Gun-shot An Ord'nance makes him to yield And he 's glad to turn Tail to Bum-shot Old Oliver was a Teazer And waged warr with the Stump But Alexander and Caesar Did both submit to the Rump Though a Rump c. Let no man be further misled By an Errour past Debate For Sedgwick has prov'd it the Head As well of the Church as the State Honest Hugh that still turns up the Tippets When he Kneels to Administer Sayes a Rump with Skippons sippets Is a Dish for a Holy Sister Though a Rump c. We 're all the better for 't 'T is the Fountain of Love and of Life 'T is that makes the sport Keeps the peace betwixt Man and Wife Oh happy all they that have spent Their Bloud and Estates on the Breech For they 're sure at last to Repent And they 'd better dye Honest than Rich Though a Rump c. Through Pride of Flesh or State Poor Souls are overthrown How happy then is our Fate VVe've a Rump to take us down In matters of Faith 't is true Some differings there may be But give the Saints their due In the Rump they all agree Though a Rump c. 'T is good at Bed and at Bord It gives us Pleasure and Ease Will you have the rest in a word 'T is good for the new disease The Tumult of the Guts 'T is a Recipe for the Kings Evill Wash the Members as sweet as Nuts And then throw them all to the Devil Though a Rump be a dangerous Bit And many a Knave runs mad on 't Yet verily as it may hit An honest man may be glad on 't Chipps of the Old Block or Hercules Cleansing the Augaean Stable To the Tune of The Sword 1. NOw by your good leave Sirs Shall see the Rump can cleave Sirs And what Chips from this Treacherous Block Will come you may conceive Sirs 2. Lenthall's the first o' the Lump sure A Fart and he may jump sure For both do stink and both we know Are Speakers of the Rump sure 3. That Mine of Fraud Sir Arthur His Soul for Lands will barter And if you 'd ride to Hell in a Wayn Hee 's fit to make your Carter 4. Sir Harry Vane God blesse us To Popery he would press us And for the Devils Dinner he The Romane way would dress us 5. Harry Martin never mist-a To love the wanton Twist-a And lustfull Aretines bawdy Leaves Are his Evangelist-a 6. Nevill's no Wigeon His Practise truly stygian Makes it a Master-piece of wit To be of no Religion 7. But my good Lord Glyn Man Pride is a deadly sin Man Cots plultera nails few Traytors be Like you of all your kin Man 8. If Saint-John be a Saint Sir He hath a devilish Taynt Sir While Straffords blood in Heavens High Court Of Justice makes complaint Sir 9. Doctor Palmers all day sleeping And into his Heart ne're peeping 'T is ill he that neglects his own Should have All-souls in keeping 10. VVill Bruertons a sinner And Croyden knows a Winner But O take heed least he do eat The Rump all at one Dinner 11. Robin Andrews is a Miser Of Coblers no despiser And could they vamp him a new head Perhaps he would be Wiser 12. But Baron VVild come out here Shew your Ferret Face and Snout here For you being both a Fool and Knave Are a Monster in the Rout here 13. Nick Lechmere Loyalty needs still And on Weather-Cocks he feeds still If Heathen Turk or Jew should come So he would change his Creed still 14. There 's half-witted VVill Say too A right fool in the Play too That would make a perfect Asse If he could learn to Bray too 15. Cornelius thou wert a Link-boy And born 't is like in a Sink boy I de tell thy Knavery to the World But thy pitch sticks in my ink boy 16. Baron Hill was but a Valley And born scarce to an Alley But now is Lord of Taunton Dean And thousands he can Ralley 17. But if you ask the Nation Whence came his Elevation They 'll say he was not raised by God But by our inundation 18. Lord Fines he will not Mall men For he likes not death of all men And his heart doth go to Pit to Pat When to Battle he should call men 19. Perfideous VVhitlock ever Hath mischiefs under 's Beaver And for his ends will put the World Into a burning Feavour 20. Ashley Cowper knew a Reason That Treachery was in season When at the first he turned his coat From Loyalty to Treason 21. And gouty Master Wallop Now thinks he hath the Ballop But though he trotted to the Rump Hee 'l run away a Gallop 22. There 's Carew Rawleigh by him All good men do defie him And they that think him not a Knave I wish they would but try him 23. Luke Robinson that Clownado Though his heart be a Granado Yet a High-shooe with his hands in his Poke Is his most perfect shadow 24. Salloway with Tobacco Inspired turn'd State Quacko And got more by his feigned zeal Then by his What de' e lack ho. 25. But Lisle is half forgotten Who oft is over-shotten For just like Harp and Gridiron His brains with Law do Gotten 26. Lord Monson's next the Bencher Who waited with a Trencher Now his tail is jerk'd at home and abroad For he 's a feeble Wencher 27. We hear from Sir John Lenthall Though his gouty Lord hath spent all
Bayes A joyfull c. He that has marched quite three Kingdoms o're Subdu'd his great mind for to make them four The signs to bring peace and plenty to our door A joyfull c. Let all antient Glory then be a Romance Let old Fame and craz'd Time lye in a Trance Nothing new but Hony Soit qui maly pense A joyfull c. This is the Noble Champion of the Garter The Great Defender of the Magna Charter The Soveraign Good came from the Northerne Quarter A joyfull c. To settle a Nation without any Blowes To break down the Bridge of another Nose To do what all wish but no body Knows A joyfull c. To compleat a Design without any Noyse To amuse the Loud cry of Vive le Roys And sport all along with your Common wealth toys A joyfull c. But all the grand Hero's and wise ones together None had such advantage of Wine and Weather 'T is true he 's sprung of a Princely Feather A joyfull c. Where shall we begin his Trophees to raise Or when shall we make an end of his praise The blessing and honour and joy of these dayes A joyfull c. The untam'd Scot before his glorious time Has made t' expiate their treacherous crime They own him sole Conqueror of their Clime A joyfull c. His great and most powerfull Influence Ha's restrain'd them in their Obedience As if they own'd the Vice-roy of their Prince A joyfull c. The shifting Irish ' bey'd his great command The slaughtered Dutch yet rowling on the sand Crave a reflux to keep them from his hand A joyfull c. Thrice did he Victory over them repeat And the almost wearied State were forc'd to treat To save them from a final last defeat A joyfull c. Whether we conquer'd are or we must submit By his all-powerfull hand to them that sit We are sure to be eas'd of our present fit A joyfull c. What if great George should come to the City And in all your good humours should presently fit ye And I hope he will do else more is the pity A joyfull sight to see The City of LONDON'S New Letany To the Tune of the Black-Smith FRom Rumps that do Rule against Customes and Laws From a fardle of Fancies stil'd a Good Old Cause From Wives that have nails which are sharper than Claws Good Jove deliver us all From men who seek Right where it 's not to be had From such who seek good where all things are bad From wise men far worse than fools or men mad Good Jove c. From Soldiers that wrack the poor out of dores From Rumps that stuff Coffers to pleasure their Whores Which they secretly squeeze from Commâ—â—-wealth scores Good Jove c. From Ingrossers of wealth to lye by their walls Which they force from poor women for keeping of Stalls And choose for to rise by other mens falls Good Jove c. From Knaves that doe pocket good Subjects Estates From such that give Plaisters when they 've broken our Pates From Rumps that do Vote down our Postes Chaines and Gates Good Jove c From States-men that Court the Thing that they hate From wofull Repentance that comes too late From those that delight in making of bate Good Jove c From Souldiers who mutiny for want of their pay And at last go sneeking without it away Crying they hope for a far better day Good Jove c. From one who brought Forces to fill up the Town That when Rumps were at highest he might pull them down Because he himself doth aim at the Crown Good Jove c. From Commanders who never drew swords but in Schools Which were button-pointed to favour such fools Who in vapouring words do threaten Joynt stools Good Jove c. Who to loose drop of blood would faint at the heart And in dread of a Gun are scar'd at a Fart If one blows but his Nose it makes them to start Good Jove c. Who think every brush of wind an Alarm To which they make ready and cry out Arm Arm Yet secretly pray that there may be no harm Good Jove c. From a City that lyes on its back to be Gelt From those that won't stir till famine be felt From the Pike the Gun the Sword and the Belt Good Jove c. From a simple Maior not fit to Rule Hoggs From such as obey him like Spannel Doggs From Summers heat and from winters Foggs Good Jove c. From Country Petitions and Declarations That will not be drawn one inch from theiâ— stations But triumph in words for old Reformations Good Jove c. From Apprentices valour and threats from the City Which would Act great Wonders yet forbear in pitty From Fools that conceit themselves very witty Good Jove c. From Oaths and Engagements imposed by force And broken as fast without any remorse Alleadging them Ceremonies of course Good Jove c. From those whose damn'd actions with Treason are Crown'd From such that would Law and Gospel confound And vow that the City they 'l burn to the ground Good Jove c. From People that murmur with Swords in their hand And keep an entreating when they may command Yet had rather loose all than Knaves to withstand Good Jove c. From Rumps that the Kingdoms Revenue have spent From an everlasting Parliament And from an Army full of discontent Good Jove c. From such who do courtesies with a long pause From those who condemn before they hear the Cause And from Trades that are worse than picking of straws Good Jove c. From a Foes mercy when one lyes in his power From a Friends anger in an ill hour And from a Fool that 's Lieutenant of the Tower Good Jove c. From men who make use of their Friends in the nick And when the Brunt's over against them do kick The thoughts of such Varlets do make my Muse sick Good night good people all The RUMP serv'd in with a Grand Sallet or A New Ballad To the Tune of the Black-smith 1. POetical Muses have fallen heavy as a Mallet Upon the poor Rump for disgusting their Pallet To cure the disrellish take now a Grand Sallet Which no body can deny 2. This RVMP is deriv'd by lineal descent As the undoubted Heir and excrement Of the yet perpetual Parliament Which c. 3. This was such an Idol as the Zâ—alots did strain Their Purses and Consciences for to maintain Though it prov'd both of Church and Kingdom the bane Which c. 4. The tail of the Dragon 's not so bad as this Rump Which hath three such Kingdoms worn to the very stump And must leave them for the time a confused Lump Which c. 5. Our Lawes Lives Lands Liberties were upon sale By this everlasting Rump Fag-end or tail Yea to save our very Souls they refus'd to take bail Which c. 6. A Tail which was eaten
Popish wares By twylight still And the Quaker half mad though he looks so sad Grinds in the Jesuites Mill. Our Drums Did drown our Process and our Writs our Plums Bid kiss our Bums We sent our Laws and Persons to the Tower From whence To be deliver'd 't was in vain to sence By talking sense No Habeas Corpus in the Court of Power The Gown Did stoop the Reverend Velvet to a crew In short Red-coats Who many a day have made you pay For cutting your own throats VVe rob'd The whole of Food to pamper out the few Exciz'd your Wares And tax'd you round sixpence the pound And massacred your Bears But now Despairs black clouds do hang upon our brow For all do bow Their hearts to their true Shepheard Charles their King And we The Wolfish Rulers now must Subjects be To destiny And end our Juncto in a fatal string Then learn All future Traytors by our Tragick doom E're 't is too late Lest when you make Kingdoms to shake You copy out your fate VVe know Our high affronts to Church and State make Room For us in Hell But yet we 'l hope till the sad Rope Sayes bid the VVorld farewell Facit indignatio versum The Holy Sisters SIx of the Femal sex and purer sect Had conference of late to this effect How they might change the Popish Name of Preaching Then quoth the first it shall be called Teaching The second newly warm'd with heavenly Nectar Fell to commend the sacred name of Lecture The third not half so learned yet full as wise Said she like it best to call 't The Exercise Nay quoth the fourth the Brethren as I hear Do term it Speaking in Northampton-shire The fifth with none of these yet did accord But term'd it purely handling of the Word Then quoth the sixth Standing a name most fit For Preachers in the Pulpit seldome sit For Application then quoth they we fear Our selves not sufficient th' use to bear Nor to conceive the meaning of some man Some able Brethren we must have who can Being full of Spirit Minister supply And help ' gainst our Carnal infirmity Repeat the Business and all faults redresse Such who with zeal and heat can fully presse The Point home that so the Casâ— being clear We may remember 't sweetly many a year And though in Concord Frailties we oft fall The help of such good men will raise us all By putting in New strength and life whereby Being edified We grow and fructifie Thus the Six Sisters did at last consent And so departed thence Incontinent The Second Part of Saint George for England To the Tune of To drive the cold Winter away NOw the Rump is confounded There 's an end of the Roundhead Who hath been such a bane to our Nation He hath now plaid his part And 's gone out like a fart Together with his reformation For by his good favour He hath left a bad savour But 's no matter wee 'l trust him no more Kings and Queens may appear Once again in our Sphere Now the Knaves are turned out of door And drive the cold Winter away Seâ— Nevil and Vane With the rest of that train Are into Oceana fled Sir Arthur the brave That 's as arrant a Knave Has Harrington's Rota in 's Head But hee 's now full of cares For his Foals and his Mares As when he was routed before But I think he despairs By his Armes or his Prayers To set up the Rump any more And drive the cold Winter away I should never have thought That a Monk could have wrought Such a Reformation so soon That House which of late Was the Jaques of our State Will ere long be a House of Renown How good wits did jump In abusing the Rump Whilst the House was press'd by the Rabble But our Hercules Monk Though it grievously stunk Now hath cleans'd that Augaean stable And drive the cold Winter away And now Mr. Prynne With the rest may come in And take their Places again For the House is made sweet For those Members to meet Though part of the Rump yet remain Nor need they to fear Though the Breeches be there Which were wrong'd both behind and before For he saith 't was a chance And forgive him this once And He swears he will do so no more And drive the cold Winter away 'T is true there are some Who are still for the Bum Such Tares will grow up with the Wheat And there they will be till a Parliament come That can give them a total defeat But yet I am told That the Rumpers do hold That the Saints may swim with the tyde Nor can it be Treason But Scripture and Reason Still to close with the stronger side And drive the cold Winter away Those Lawyers o' th' House As Baron Wild-goose With treason Hill Whitlock and Say Were the bane of Laws And our Good Old Cause And 't were well if such were away Some more there are to blame Whom I care not to name That are Men of the very same ranks ' Mongst whom there is one That to Devil Barebone For his ugly Petition gave thanks And drive the cold Winter away But I hope by this time Hee 'l confess 't was a crime To abet such a damnable crew Whose Petition was drawn By Alcoran Vane Or else by Corbet the Jew By it you may know What the Rump meant to do And what Religion to frame So 't was time for St. George That Rump to disgorge And to send it from whence it first came c. And drive the cold Winter away A New Kickshaw for the queasie Stomack of Sathan and all those that fight under his Banner To the Tune of Cook Laurell YOu pitifull Rimers now be you all dumb Let no Dames of the Dunghill sing Ditties about St. George and the Dragon and little Tom Thumb With Wallingford House and the Rump are worn out Here 's an Ola Polidra so pleasant and new The Tayle of the State had n'ere such a Hogooe With a hey down down c. Come listen you Cooks and learn my new Dish 'T is that that will fill your Guests bellyes with laughter 'T is a meat neither made of flesh nor fish But will make all that tast it to lick their lips after Here 's an Ola c. First take you three Farts from the Parliament-Breech The head of an Onion to rubb on your Platter The Hums and the Ha's of Mr. Scot's speech Spoke twice to no purpose and mince not the matter Here 's an Ola c. Take the Linings of Alderman Atkins his Hose Some o th' cobling Collonel's Shooe-makers wax The juyce of Tichburn's and â—reton's Toes 'T will settle your Stomacks and strengthen your Backs Here 's an Ola c. If an Independent Sermon you hear Be sure you take all that is spoke to the Text Some of my Lord Pride his Zeal for a Fear And a Prayer by the Spirit made by that Part comes
unruly Member Give the General the Oath cryes one but his Conscience being a little tender I 'll Abjure you with a Horse-pox quoth George and make you remember The ' Leaventh of February longer than the Fifth of November From a Rump c. With that Monk leaves in Rump assembled the three Estates But oh how the Citizens hugg'd him for breaking down their Gates For tearing up their Postes and Chaines and for clapping-up their Mates When they saw that he brought them Plasters for their broken Pates From a Rump c. In truth this ruflle put the Town in great disorder Some Knaves in Office smil'd expecting 'T would go furder But at the last my life on 't George is no Rumper said the Recorder For there never was either Honest man or Mâ—nck of that Order From a Rump c. And so it prov'd for Gentlemen sayes the General I 'll make you amends Our Greeting was a little untoward but we 'll part Friends A little time shall shew you which way my Design tends And that besides the good of Church and State I have no other ends From a Rump c. His Excellence had no sooner pass'd this Declaration and Promise But in steps Secretary Scot the Rumps man Thomas With Luke their lame Evangelist the Devil keep 'um from us To shew Monk what precious Members of Church and State the Bummha's From a Rump c. And now comes the Supplication of the Members under the Rod Nay My Lord cryes the Brewers Clerk good my Lord for the love of God Consider yourself us and this poor Nation and that Tyrant abroad Don't leave us but George gave him a Shrugg instead of a Nodd. From a Rump c. This mortal Silence was followed with a most hideous Noyse Of Free-Parliament Bells and Rump-confounding Boyes Crying Gueld the Rogues Singe their Tayles when with a low Voyce Fire and Sword by this Light cryes Tom let 's look to our Toyes From a Rump c. Never were wretched Members in so sad a Plight Some were Broyl'd some Toasted others burnt out-right Nay against Rumps so Pittylesse was their Rage and Spite That not a Citizen would kiss his Wife that Night From a Rump c. By this time Death and Hell appear'd in the ghastly Looks Of Scot and Robinson those Legislative Rooks And it must needs put the Rump most damnably off the Hooks To see that when God has sent Meat the Devil should send Cooks From a Rump c. But Providence their old Friend brought these Saints off at Last And through the Pikes and the Flames un-dismembred they past Although God wot with many struglings and much Hast For Members or no Members was but a measuring Cast From a Rump c. Being come to Whitehall there 's the dismal mone Let Monk be Damn'd cryes Arthur in a terrible tone That Traytor and those Cukoldly Rogues that set him on But tho' the Knight Spits blood 't is observ'd that he Draws none From a Rump c. The Plague Bawle you cryes Harry Martyn you have brought us to this Condition You must be canting and be Pox'd with your Bare-bones Petition And take in that Bull-headed splay-footed Member of Circumcision That Bacon-fac'd Jew Corbet that Son of Perdition From a Rump c. Then in steps Driv'ling Mounson to take up the Squabble That Lord which first taught the use of the Woodden Dagger and Laddle He that out-does Jack Pudding at a Custard or a Caudle And were the Best Fool in Europe but that he wants a Bauble From a Rump c. More was said to little Purpose the next News is a Declaration From the Rump for a Free-State according to the Covenant of the Nation And a Free-Parliament under Oath and Qualification Where none shall be Elect but Members of Reprobation From a Rump c. Here 's the Tail Firk'd a Piece acted lately with great applause With a Plea for the Prerogative Breech and the Good Old Cause Proving that Rumps and Members are antienter than Laws And that a Bumme Divided is never the worse for the Flawes From a Rump c. But all things have their Period and Fate An Act of Parliament dissolves a Rump of State Members grow weak and Tayles themselves runs out of Date And yet thou shalt not Dye Dear Breech thy Fame I 'll celebrate From a Rump c. Here lies a Pack of Cheats that did their Souls and Country Sell. For Dirt The Devil was their good Lord him they serv'd well By his Advice they Stood and Acted and by his President they fell Like Lucifer making but one step betwixt Heaven and Hell From a Rump insatiate as the Sea Libera nos Domine A Free-Parliament Letany To the Tune of An old Souldier of the Queens 1. MOre Ballads here 's a spick and span new Supplication By Order of a Committee for the Reformation To be read in all Churches and Chappels of this Nation Upon pain of Slavery and Sequestration From Fools and Knaves in our Parliament-free Libera nos Domine 2. From those that ha' more Religion and lesse Conscience than their Fellows From a Representative that 's fearfull and jealous From a starting Jadish People that is troubled with the yellows And a Priest that blows the Cole a Turd in the Bellows From Fools and Knaves c. 3. From Shepheards that leade their Flocks into the Briers And then Fleece ' um Fâ—om Vow-breakers and King-tryers Of Church and Crown-lands from both Sellers and Buyers From the Children of him that 's the Father of Lyers From Fools and Knaves c. 4. From the Doctrine and Discipline of now and anon Preserve us and our wives from John T Saint John Like Master like Man every way but one The Master has a large Conscience and the Man has none From Fools and Knaves c. 5. From Major Generals Army Officers and that Phanatique Crew From the Parboyl'd Pimp Scot and from Good-face the Jew From old Mildmay that in Cheapside mistook his Queâ—e And from him that wont Pledge give the Devil his due From Fools and Knaves c. 6. From long-winded Speeches and not a wise word From a Gospel-Ministry setled by th' Sword From the Act of a Rump that stinks when 't is stir'd From a Knight of the Post and a Cobling Lord From Fools and Knaves c. 7 From all the Rich People that ha' made us Poor From a Speaker that creeps to the House by a Back-dore From that Badger Robinson that limps and bites sore And that dog in a doublet Arthur that will do so no more From Fools and Knaves c. 8. From a certain Sly Knave with a Beastly name From a Parl'ment that 's wilde and a People that 's tame From Skippon Titchbourne Ireton and another of the Same From a Dunghill Cock and a Hen of the Game From Fools and Knaves c. 9. From all those that sate in the High Court of Justice
account To twenty Nobles and his vails Amount Fed on the common of the female charity Untill the Scots can bring about their parity So shotten that his Soul like to himself Walks but in Querpo this same Clergy Elf Encountring with a Brother of the Cloth Fell presently to Cudgels with the O th The Quarel was a strange mis-shapen Monster c. God blesse us which they conster The brand upon the buttock of the Beast The Dragons tayle ty'd on a knot a neast Of young Apocraphas the fashion Of a new mental Reservation While Roger thus divides the text the other Winks and expounds saying My pious Brother Hearken with reverence for the point is nice I never read on 't but I fasted twice And so by revelation know it better Than all the Idolaters o' the Letter With that he swell'd and fell upon the Theam Like great Goliah with his Weavers beam I say to thee c. thou ly'st Thou art the curled lock of Antichrist Rubbish of Babel for who will not say â—ongues were confounded in c Who swears c. swears more Oaths at once Than Cerberus out of his triple Sconce Who views it well with the same eye beholds The old half Serpent in his numerous folds Accurst c. thou for now I scent What lately the prodigious Oysters meant Oh Booker Booker how cam'st thou to lack this Sign in thy prophetick Almanack It 's the dark Vault wherein th' infernal plot Of Powder ' gainst the State was first begot Peruse the Oath and you shall soon descry it By all the Father Garnets that stand by it ' Gainst whom the Church whereof I am a Member Shall keep another fifth day of November Yet here 's not all I cannot halfe untrusse c. it 's so abominous The Trojan Nag was not so fully lin'd Unrip c. and you shall find Og the great Commissary and which is worse Th' Apparatour upon his skew-ball'd horse Then finally my Babe of Grace forbear c. will be too far to swear For 't is to speak in a familiar style A York-shire wea-bit longer than a mile Then Roger was inspir'd and by Gods-diggers Hee 'l swear in words at large and not in Figures Now by this drink which he takes off as loath To leave c. in his liquid Oath His Brother pledg'd him and that bloody wine He swears shall seal the Synods Cataline So they drunk on not offering to part Till they had quite sworn out th' eleventh quart While all that saw and heard them joyntly pray They and their tribe were all c. The Publique Faith STand off my Masters 'T is your pence a peece Jason Medea and the Golden Fleece What side the line good Sir Tigris or Po Lybia Japan Whisk or Tradinktido St. Kits St. Omer or Margaret's Bay Presto begon or come aloft what way Doublets or Knap the Cog low Dice or high By all the hard names in the Letany Bell Book and Candle and the Pope's great toe I conjure thy account Devil say no. Nay since I must untruss Gallants look to 't Keep your prodigious distance forty foot This is that Beast of eyes in th' Revelations The Basilisk has twisted up three Nations Ponteus Hixius doxius full of tricks The Lottery of the vulgar lunaticks The Knapsack of the State the thing you wish Magog and Gog stew'd in a Chaffendish A bag of Spoons and Whistles wherein men May whistle when they see their Plate agen Thus far his Infancy his riper age Requires a more mysterious Folio page Now that time speaks him perfect and 't is pity To dandle him longer in a close Committee The Elf dares peep abroad the pretty Fool Can wag without a truckling standing-stool Revenge his Mother's infamy and swear Hee 's the fair Off-spring of one half-score year The Heir of the House and hopes the cry And wonder of the Peoples misery 'T is true while as a Puppy it could play For Thimbles any thing to passe the day But now the Cub can count arithmetize â—link Masenello with the Duke of Guise Sign for an Irish purchase and traduce The Synod from their Doctrine to their Use Give its Dam suck and a hidden way Drink up arrears a tergo mantica An everlasting Bale Hell in Trunk-hose Uncased the Divel's Don Quixot in prose The Beast and the false Prophet twin'd together The squint-eyed emblem of all sorts of weather The refuse of that Chaos of the earth Able to give the World a second birth Affrick avaunt Thy trifling Monsters glance But Sheeps-eyed to this Penal Ignorance That all the Prodigies brought â—orth before Are but Dame Natures blush left on the score This strings the Baker's dozen christens all The cross-leg'd hours of time since Adam's fall The Publick Faith why 't is a word of kin A Nephew that dareâ— Cozen any fin A Term of Art great Bohemoth's younger Brother Old Machiavel and half a thousand other Which when subscrib'd writes Legion names on truss Abaddon Belzebub and Incuâ—us All the Vice-Royes of darkness every spell And Fiend wrap'd in a short Triâ—â—illable But I fore-stall the Show Enter and see Salute the Door your Exit shall be free In brief 't is call'd Religions ease or loss For no one 's suffer'd here to bear his crosse A Committee CAst Knaves my Masters fortune guide the chance No packing I beseech you no by-glance To mingle pairs but fairly shake the bag Cheats in their spheres like subtile spirits wag Or if you please the Cards run as they will There is no choyce in sin and doing ill Then happy man by 's dole luck makes the ods He acts most high that best out-dares the gods These are that Raw-bon'd Herd of Pharaoh's Kine Which eat up all your Fatlings yet look lean These are the after-claps of bloudy showres Which like the Scots come for your guide and yours The Gleaners of the Fielde where if a man Escape the sword that milder frying-pan He leaps into the fire cramping the claws of such can speak no English but the Cause Under that foggy term that Inquisition Y' are wrackt at all adventures On suspition No matter what 's the crime a good estate 's Delinquency enough to ground their hate Nor shall calm innocence so scape as not To be made guilty or at least so thought And if the spirit once inform beware The flesh and world but renegadoes are Thus once concluded out the Teazers run And in full cry and speed till Wat's undone So that a poor Delinquent fleec'd and torn Seems like a man that 's creeping through a horn Finds a smooth entrance wide and fit but when Hee 's squeez'd and forc'd up through the smaller end He looks as gaunt and pin'd as he that spent A tedious twelve years in an eager Lent Or bodies at the Resurrection are On wing just rarifying into aire The Emblem of a man the pitied Case And shape of some sad being once that was The Type of
flesh and blood the Skeleton And superfices of a thing that 's gone The winter quarter of a life the tinder And body of a corps squeez'd to a cinder When no more tortures can be thought upon Mercy shall flow into oblivion Mercifull Hell thy Judges are but three Ours multiform and in plurality Thy calmer censures flow without recall And in one doom souls see their finall All. We travel with expectance Suffrings here Are but the earnests of a second fear Thy plagues and pains are infinite 't is true Ours are not only infinite but new So that the dread of what 's to come exceeds The anguish of that part already bleeds This only difference swells 'twixt us and you Hell has the kinder Devils of the two The Model of the New Religion WHoop Mr. Vicar in your flying frock What news at Babel now how stands the Cock When wags the floud no Ephimerides Nought but confounding of the languages No more of th' Saints arival or the chance Of three pipes two pence and an ordinance How many Queer-religions clear your throat May a man have a peny-worth four a groat Or do the Junsto leap at truss-a-fayle Three Tenents clap while five hang on the tayle No Querpo model never a knack or wile To preach for Spoons and Whistles cross or pile No hints of truth on foot no sparks of grace No late sprung light to dance the wilde-goose chase No Spiritual Dragoones that take their flames From th' inspiration of the City Dames No crums of comfort to relieve your cry No new dealt mince-meat of Divinity Come lets 's project by the great late Eclipse We justly fear a famine of the lips for Sprats are rose an Omer for a sowse Which gripes the conclave of the lower House Let 's therefore vote a close humiliation For opening the seal'd eyes of this blind Nation That they may see confessingly and swear They have not seen at all this fourteen year And for the splints and sâ—avins too t is said All the joynts have the Riffcage since the head Swell'd so prodigious and exciz'd the parts From all Allegiance but in tears and hearts But zealous Sir what say to a touch at Prayer How Quops the spirit In what garb or ayre With Souse erect or pendent winks or haws Sniveling or the extention of the jaws Devotion has its mode Dear Sir hold forth Learning 's a venture of the second worth For since the peoples rise and its sad fall We are inspir'd from much to none at all Brother adieu I see y' are closely girt A costive Dover gives the Saints the squirt Hence Reader all our flying news contracts Like the States Fleet from the Seas into Acts But where 's the Model all this while you 'll say 'T is like the Reformation run away To a Fair Lady weeping for her Husband Committed to Prison by the Parliament 1643. TUsh let them keep him if they can He 's not in hold while you are free Come sigh no more but pledge the man What though in Fetters yet can he Be Prisoner unto none but thee Then dry your Eyes for every tear Makes them like drowned worlds appear Post through the Aire my fancy went With wings disguis'd and there stood by When he was brought to th' Parliament And streight to th' Bar to th' Bar they cry The smiling Captain asked Why With that they soon drew up his Charge Which Lady you shall hear at large Imprimis he was married late With a Gold Ring unto a Dame Would make the best of us a Mate Witty Pretty Young and Quaint And fairer then our selves can Paint Her lips do set mens teeth on edge Sure 't is a Breach of Priviledge And her Malignant beauty can Provoke our Members up to rise Nay make our General prove a man And the Star-Chamber of her Eyes Robs Subjects of their Liberties And then her voice keeps Eares in awe Even like the High-Commission Law Nay more the fair Delinquent hath A pair of Organs in her throat Which when she doth inspire with breath She can command in every noat More then both our Houses Vote Her very Hair put in Array Can fetter our Militia Her Cheeks still Natures Pattent have Not yet call'd in for only 〈◊〉 In them ingrossed all that 's brave And other Ladies Hucksters be Her Beauty 's the Monopolie When theirs is spent to her they come And chaffer with her face for some She keeps an Alter on her brow Her Eyes two Tapers on each side There Superstitious Lovers bow Her Name is Mary too beside Who owns a Faith that 's sanctifi'd Let 's clap up him till further leisure And send for her to wait our pleasure Then go fair Lady follow him Fear no Trumpet fear no Drum Fair Women may prevail with Pym And one sweet smile when there you come Will quickly strike the Speaker dumb If not then let one tear be spent And 't will dissolve the Parliament Mr. Fullers Complaint ENgland once Europes joy Now her scorn Ambitious to be forlorn Self by self torn Stand amaz'd Thy woes are blaz'd By silence best And wanting words even wonder out the rest Help Gracious King The source and spring Of all our bliss Alas the fault 's not his Good Prince how is he griev'd That he 's mistook Or what 's a Curse Far worse he is not believ'd Help long-wisht for Parliament If so good by your intent And will And skill Why ill is your successe Alas Malignant humors lurk And cause the Physick not to work To give our woes redresse Help in the Law ye Learned Sages Studied well in former ages But our Rents Are above all Presidents In fight what 's might That 's right For Statutes are by Lawyers awed And Common-law by Canon-law out-lawed Help ye Divines our souls to plaister Settle the Legacy which your Master Bequeath'd to his own at his decease Even Peace Alas alas in Gilead Where is no balm for to be had O Cruell They that should holy water bring bring fiery fuell No help no help Why then 't is vain For to complain And why men sin with all their heart Sorrow only but in part And still they cry That all is ill And love to make 't and keep 't so still Since then our wounds Are grown so wide And all means try'd And all deny'd Good God help us at last Before all help be past For this is sure Men made the wounds but God alone can help the cure Upon wearing the Kings Colours ALas what take ye pepper in the Nose To see King Charles his Colours worne in Pose 'T was but an Ornament to grace the Hat And must we have an Ordinance for that O serious worthies how can you dispence With so much time to draw a Grievance thence But you do very well to make it known When others Liberties surmounts your own You can and will suppresse it well you may Do even what you please we must obey I hope you