they are not my own but they are of about twenty years standing to the best of my remembrance and perusing them since I last parted from You they wrought so much upon me even to a Conversion Isabella Oh let us hear them by all means but pray tell me where you had them I. P. I was lately at a Torys or rather at a Tantivys Study in high Holborn who hath by him all sorts of Popish Prelatical Jesuitical and a few Fanatical Books and among those last named which were put in a By-hole as if intended for the last use of wast Paper I found these Verses which as soon as I had perused I fairly put them up into my Pocket asking no questions for Conscience sake but however I do intend to tell him of it next time we meet at Sams Coffee-House which is hard by this Tavern where we are now so pleasantly merry Isabella For Customs Books I see none are so kind To give his due to Caesar or 's Friend to mind But keep them as a Prize and nere repent Though ' gainst our three States in full Parliament But however I long to hear your Verses let them be what they will for I am fixed as to my own Persâ—â—sion as to matters Spiritual but as to things Temporal I must submit my Self to our triple and thrice Noble State Hocus I understand you but Mum for that although you spake a little too loud and I over-heard you I. P. Here Madam Pray Read to your Self and let none hear you Isabella I cannot allow of that they must be Read that all must hear for you may remember William our Drawer here was to be Umpire between you and Mr. Hocus I. P. I beg your Pardon but I did not think of that being so much in Love with your proper Person Isabella Or rather Mr. Jocus you should have replied good VVits have short Memories But pray to the Point in Hand I. P. I am now just at the Point and the Title of my Verses is as followeth viz. The Asses Complaint against Balaam or The Cry of the Country against Ignorant and Scandalous Ministers To the Reverend Bishops YE Mitred Members of the House of Peers The Kings Church-VVardens and Gods Overseers Fathers in Christ VVe your poor Children Cry Oh give us Bread of Life or else we Dye For we are Burdn'd with our old Sir Johns VVhen we ask Bread they allways give us Stones And only Cant a Homily or two VVhich Daws and Magpies may be taught to do Drunkards Canonical unhallowed Bears The name of God more oft in Oaths then Prayers Into what Darkness will Our Church be hurl'd If such as these be call'd the Light o' th VVorld These that have nought to prove themselves devout Save only this That Cromwell turn'd them out Mistake us not we do not mean those Loyal And Learned Souls who in the fiery Tryal Suffer'd for King and Conscience sake let such Have double Honour we shall ne'r think much But this our tender Conscience dis-approves That Ravens should return as well as Doves And Croak in Pulpits once again to bring A second Judgment on Our Church and King Though England doth not fear another Loss ' Cause God hath Burn'd his Rods at Charing cross Yet CLERGY Sins may call him to the Door Even him who whipt and scourg'd them out before Oh therefore ye that Read the Sacred Laws Eject their Persons and disown their Cause God and the King have both Condemn'd this Crew Then let them not be Patroniz'd by you 'T is not their Cassocks nor their Surplices VVe Quarrel at there is no harm in these VVe own their Habit but yet every Fool Cannot be call'd a Monk that wears a Cowl VVere Grace and Learning wanting by your leaves VVe would not pin our Faith on your Lawn sleeves 'T is Aarons Breast-Plate and those sacred VVords Become a Church-Man Oh 't is that my Lords Which pious Baxter makes his Livery VVould all our Curates were but such as he Pardon my Lords we do not make this stir To vindicate the Factious Presbyter VVe hate his ways and equally disown The Zealous Rebel as the idle Droan And beg as oft to be deliver'd from The Kirk of Scotland as the See of Rome VVe pray for Bishops too that they may stand To heal the mad Distractions in our Land Then give us Priests Loyal and painful too To give to Caesar and to us our Due God save King Charles our Christian Faiths Defendor And bring Religion to its ancient Splendor Amen Hocus Pax of this Tory what is he now turn'd Whig On purpose to draw in my pretty Pig A Stab I 'le give him which shall cure his Itch Save him from burning like to an old Witch Isabella If that he be 't is of the better sort Call'd Common Prayer Whigs who do resort Unto their Parish Church I like him well I think those Verses are a charming spell He is a Baptist Whig that shining Light Who was Praecursor to that Star so bright Who brought the Wise Men from the East to see The only Son of Soveraign Majesty Hocus Madam the whole that you have now to do Is to hear Will what he will say to you Isabella Pray Will remember both the Whig and Pye Let not your Lipps now give your Heart the Lye Speak you the Naked Truth and shame the Divel Give me the least but not the greatest Evil. Of these two Gallants who have tryed their skill To purchase Favour and our kind good will Drawer As near as I can I will the Truth Judge And soon I will help you unto a true Drudge Gentlemen and Ladies pray hearken to what I was entrusted withal I have been serious and extreamly civil Unto my Masters who have got the Evil Which they call Love though some do call it vile You may take both or else take Cross or Pile I do declare that Hocus he hath got The weather-gage of your Jack Pudding Plot. Then take your Bride and let Jack-Pudding run For help again to Towzers Elder Gun And Pocus likewise be you like Sylvester Straightway to Bed with this her only Sister All things are ready fixed for each Bride For you this Night to sleep here by their side Hocus Will I do thank you for your Justice done To me your Servant and true rising Sun Here take my promise which I made before And for your Bill pray put it on the Score I 'le hast to Bed unto my own Dear Wife Who is the joy and comfort of my Life Drawer And are they gon these Jesuits they have got Instead of Riches a true Pouder-Plot They both will find before the Night be spent Enough to make them straightway keep a Lent They both are Whores and if Jack-Pudding sorrow To chear him up I 'le tell the truth to morrow And may they all be whipt and stripped thus Who come to kill with Romes old Blunderbuz A wonder strange by these two Whores in
in his proper Geers In setting Dogs and Bears by th' Ears I 'le draw him and his prophane Wit As pleasing to the Tory Cit I 'le draw him hab-nab at a venture Then draw him cutting of Indenture With twenty Maggots and mishaps As he came home from Mother Red-Caps Upon his Body and his Noddle As being so drunk he could not straddle But down he fell into a Ditch And there was bit by a Salt-Bitch And ever since he could not write One word of Truth but only Bite I 'le draw him here with all his Pranks And then presented with no Thanks Only for his Rambling Prattle He was presented with a Rattle For this poor Rogue after his Dogrel huff Went out from hence just like a Candle snuff And after all this Swineheards Revel Rout Had not one Ring to hang upon his Snout Which made him such a true discons'late Elf Ready with grief almost to hang himself Here then I 'le draw him with deep Jigger Jagger In Life a Locust and in Death a Beggar Monsieur Se vous rend grace pour ce dernier effort Which may perhaps make Whig and Tory sport Painter draw next the Worthies of our Nation Who from their hearts desire Reformation And willing are to suffer Penal Laws Against them made in any Righteous Cause Then Paint them hoping the next Parliament Will all their Fears and Jealousies prevent If not before then draw them all Addressing And on their knees imploring Heav'ns great blessing Upon them all and that he would now please T' incline King Charls his heart to give them ease Or else with strength their Loyal Hearts support Against new Edicts that shall come from Court But Painter draw them still with a desire That Royal Charls should quench that smoaking Fire Which is almost throughout the Nation spread Which makes them so poor hearts to hang the Head Painter next draw the Clergy of our Nation As being mounted on a Lofty Station And just below them place those Worthy Men Which even now you drew forth with your Pen And in their Mouths this Label place as sent Unto those Clergy and next Parliament Great Sirs We don't pretend to things that are sublime Above our sphere as namely Laws Divine To be enforced by the Civil Sword But only by that Charming Voice his Word Most plainly Preacht unto our common Sence By Arguments of Reason drawn from thence Which is that Light set up within Man's Breast That doth distinguish him from a Brute Beast Which must be Rul'd with Bit and Bridle too With Whip and Spur if you will have him do No other way as yet we have found out To save Men's Souls or to resolve a Doubt And therefore will not with the Tories prate At such a bold pragmatick scrabling rate By Laws Establisht both in Church and State The last is yours the first it is God's Throne And those who grate so much upon that Bone Are Rebells more than those of Forty One Poor mortal Shrubs we dare not so presume To think that we can make a sweet Perfume Unto the King of Kings by making Laws For to Establish his most Righteous Cause Which he hath undertaken and hath sent His only Son on purpose to present His Will to us in Acts of Parliament Of Scripture-Records signed with the Blood Of Christ himself for all the Nations good Under the Cope of Heaven if they will come Submit to him and to his glorious Son All Cob-web Laws of States-men since that time Have only been but Water mixt with Wine In Church-Affairs for doubtless that 's his own Most proper Right which we dare not disown Since he hath promis'd that the Gates of Hell Shall ne'r prevail against his Charming Bell Of Magna Charta Laws where Reason must us guide And not the Pope nor any Man beside On this side Heaven so as to force Assent Beyond the power and dint of Argument For Mortal Men to make Immortal Laws To bind our Souls and free us from the Jaws Of Everlasting Death how doth it look Just like a Whale caught with a small Fish-hook And though our Rulers do pretend so high To guard the Throne of Soveraign Majesty By their By-Laws Imposed on his Church They will at last be left all in the Lurch And they shall see their solly in his time Who only makes such Laws as are Divine And not for them to meddle with but stand In their own proper sphere to give command Where God hath plac'd them by his Soveraign Power To guard Mens Bodies not their Souls devour By forcing them against their common sense To make Men Hypocrites under pretence Of guarding of God's Truth but make them evil And send by whole-sale Men unto the Devil Yet this you venture at with full intent In your Imposing things Indifferent And when you have once got the Royal Stamp Our Old Religion then you 'l strait new vamp With Trash and Trumpery only t' abuse God 's holy Church with Country clouted Shoes And then you thunder out Hell and Damnation To all that will not Bow throughout the Nation Unto your Idols which you so Adore And here set up just like a Painted Whore And do present her to the Peoples sight As if she had the stamp of Divine Right For shame leave off these whiffling tricks of Art Whereby you make the Nation so much smart We dare be bold t' affirm these Impositions Are only Rellicks of Rome's Superstitions And though you press them with such Zealous Rage In Press and Pulpit to this present Age Yet we do think and therein may be bold You 'l never bring this Nation to your Mould Though you do say the things themselves are such Which may be us'd or not us'd over much And do affirm although Indifferent In their own nature but a Parliament When they Impose them and them do proclaim The case is alter'd now they must remain Not as before But all of them such things As if commanded by the King of Kings 'T is not the things themselves that are so sacred But Royal Stamp that hath them so Created This is your great Goliah who bids defiance And upon whom you have so strong Reliance One little stone thrown from a Striplings Sling Will strip your Champion of his Treble String And he shall tell him and need say no more This very thing sets up the Scarlet Whore Top and Top gallant with her Plumes so high As if she 'd mount above the Starry Sky And there invade even Soveraign Majesty As if he could not tell what to Impose Without the Statute of his Bulls and Blows It is the common Art which she doth use To cheat their Chickens and poor Souls abuse In telling them they must not think too much Of any thing Impos'd by holy Church For by the same Law you Impose but one You may do here as they have done at Rome Impose one hundred and in time may clog All our Religion with
the day of Doom Upon which day we must surrender all Both Bag and Baggage and our Capitol Now we command you straitway hence to go And ship your selves unto our Sweedish Foe VVhen Martin Luther did our Church affright To make our Lambs to him turn Proselite By Arguments drawn from his furious Pen Just like a Frantick shut up in his Den VVhere you come there be sure you make no Bones Of any thing but only of your Stones Pray have a Care whereby you may advance Our Church our Empire and Intreague with France And while you 're there their idle Consubstance Do what you can to turn the Tide to Trans This having done we do command you more From thence you Sail unto great Britain's shore VVhen once ariv'd within Our Port of Dover Read once again your new Commission over Observe it well therein are weighty Points Enough to fix and settle all our Joynts VVhich have been straind ' ere since that cursed time Bold Harry's Cod-piece did our Church decline From thence straightway advance into that Town VVhich bids defiance to our Triple Crown Dam her and sink her by what means you can Murders Massacres Fires and that Man VVho is her head and bids us bold Defiance And upon whom we can have no Reliance Be sure you strike him to his very Life This will put all things out of Doubt and Strife The Towns our own if he were once but dead VVee 'd bring ourselves there straitway into Bed If this you do Return unto your home You shall be Pillars in our Church of ROME Or if you will you shall have Coleman's Fate Saints after Death now Pillars in our State This we do Promise In our own great Name If not perform'd ne'r take our Words again Witness our self and all Saint Peter's Fry Upon the day of his Nativity Now standing by us near our Royal Throne We like their Heads But love to reign alone And signed be our chiefest Scribe of State Our Ink-horn-Lord who is our constant Mate Signed Seignior Don John Alonzo Furioso de Lucifero principal Secretary of State to his infallible Highness and true Successor of S. Peter and supream head of Christ's holy Catholick Church over all Kings Princes and Potentates whatsoever until the general Resurrection Pocus Come let 's not miss one hair's bredth of our large Instructions but however I had rather be a Pillar in the Church of Rome durante vita than to be a Canonizd Saint in the Church of Rome post mortem for taking a running Jump from Tiber to Tiburn for the good of the Good Old Cause Hocus I believe you without swearing for to tell you the Truth by J I am of the same Judgment to a Cows thumb and though here and there one hot spirited Zealot for the Catholick Cause may be so far transported as to venture his Neck yet you know how our-Superiours at home do put them in their Ignoramus Calender for a Company of Goose-caps Cocks-combs and Jack-puddings upon that accompt Pocus They do so and you may remember before we came away how many they had lately of Saint Coleman's Disciples put in there upon the Accomt aforesaid And how did they almost split themselves with laughing when they read their Confessions That THEY all dyed Innocent and That it was like in a short-time to pass for currant That Sir Edmund bury Godfrey was Felo de se when they themselves in a Consultation in our own Colledge had laid a Platform although in some things as to the whole of their Design it proves unsuecessful Hocus Had not some of our St. Omers Beagles and deep-mouth'd Hounds run upon a false scent and in stead of pursuing the wild Bores had not fallen upon and worried the innocent sheep we had done our Business especially before this time but hinc illae Lachrimae and we must be contented to make the best of a bad Market But yet tempora mutantur c. and we may yet make an after-game of it if we can but play our Cards closely Pocus Come Olbion daies The Cocks will bravely crow And like bold Ridens Gape A Raree show In those brave times the Birds will sweetly sing And we may hope to have a glorious Spring The Seed is sown The Corn begins to mount Come wee 'l attempt To be Lords Paramount Jocus I 'le do my best to serve the Church and Pope But I l'e beware of Coleman's twisted Rope Pocus To serve Don Seignior I 'le do what I can But I 'le beware of Harris's Trepan Come le ts be Wise and sometimes be Merry Not always Plotting sometimes let 's drink Sherry For to revive Us when we are in Durnps Least that the WHIGS should turn up still for Trumps And not Our Church which they proclame is Evil But if we can we 'l Post 'um to the Devil Hocus Sometimes le ts use that Modest Recreation Like Our Superiours in their long Vacation VVhen Dead FLESH is forbid they take in Store Of Living LAMBS which they do Love like ORE You may remember under Our great Hill In Fasting Times They had such Lambs at VVill And told those still which sometimes brought them Chink That at such things St. Peter he would Wink And when Confession of those Sins were made They might begin a new Score on that Trade This they do tell Us is no Mortal Sin Therefore sometimes le ts Play at in and in Pocus With all my Heart true Trout I 'le follow Thee But lets bewar still of the Gallow-Tree Hocus Ne'r question that we won't proceed so far Though we are now St. Peters Men of War Yet being now beyond his Reach we may Do sometimes like him who once ran astray And rather than be Martyrs for Our Church Wee 'l leave both POPE and Peter in the lurch Pocus Come now after we have taken a Nap or two le ts take Post for London with all Our Letters Credential to those Gentlemen at the Wild-house which have been there so long upon the Accompt Courant And I have one Letter in particular to Heraclitus Ridens to Draw the PO ES Picture in small for one of Our Superiours you know who I mean That Senior Sophister in Our Colledge who doth intend to present it to his Holiness for his next New-Years-Gift in hopes of a Fools Cap now there are so many Vacancies Hocus I know he can do it to the Life for before I went to Rome he was esteemed the best Limner in England upon that accompt and his name as I remember was Mr. but Mum for that Pocus Come Brother Hocus surge surge Diluculo surgere Saluberrimum est Our Horses are just ready and we shall reach London in good time Come Drawer and Chamberlain bring us a Bill Drawer Here is a Bill Sirs in the whole 21 s. 6 d. Besides the Oat-stealers Bill for the Hire of Your Horses he will give you an Account of it Hocus There is a Guiny for