was so near The Kings let such the Prophets Judgment fear And if the Courts of Claims have done amiss Tâ—â—â— Med'cine for their Cure prescribed is Yet I for my part can no Man accuse And if I could I should be loath to use â—â—y pen ' gainst English they too my Superiours To whome is Honour due from all inferiours Some â—old the want of Money and bad Tradeing Somes of Oppression nay there is no wading In this great Sea where that a Ship may ride Not Sound the Depth at lowest Ebbe of Tide Oppression is so various that I Can only Hint what 's obvious to each eye The Wearer of the Shoe he best doth knowe VVhether it wring his Instep or his Toe Then briefly where to doe Men make profession As they 'd be done to that doth cure Oppression The Authors Prayer NOw thou O God who didst the Heavens make The Sea and Land when first the word thou spake Let there be Lihgt 't was so to thee alone We poor Distressed English make our moane O God who art the Scarcher of all hearts Tryest the Reines and in the inward parts Of Man has writt thy Law Reveal I pray Thy will On Earth that our Governours may Know that they Rule for thee the Kingdom 's thine And in thy hand all Power is Divine Make them to dread thy Name that sit at Helme Lest by ill Steering they at length o're whelme This floating bottome Ireland spoyl'd of Rigging Since th' English lost the VVells of their owne digging Their owne say I ' t was thou didst take this land From a Barb'rous People and in our hand Hast given it that we should not doe like The Nations whome thou didst in fury strike O let our Rulers see that they alone VVere not the men that hath this Kingdom wonne Nor that they can defend the same from harme By humane policy or fleshly arme VVhen Israel did all th' abominations Of the Heathen and round about the Nations Thou didst drive out whose Land thou didst them give Thou mad'st them flee before their Foes and live Captives in a strange Land so let us sear That our Back-slidings make us not appeare Like them then what may wee from thee expect But that our punishment may in effect Be like to theirs good God take thou away From our Great Men their stonyhearts I pray And give them Hearts of Flesh that ev'ry one May do but as unto he would be done Remove O Lord the spleen and take away The Gall that 's in mens hearts now at this day VVho Persecute their Brethren without Cause VVresting the Old and inventing New Lawes To punish Anabaptists and the Quakers And make the Cov'nanters turn Cov'nant-breakers Grant this Good God and whatsoever more Thou knowest needfull for us wee implore Thy Divine Goodness to bestow it on us And answer ev'ry Lord have Mercy ' pon us Pronovnc'd at Church at home or other place With tokens of thy Favour and thy Grace The KING his Counsells and his Kingdoms blesse And all his Subjects the Great ones and the Lesse The Rev'rend Clergie each man in his station The Lay-man too which comprehends the Nation Yea and the Irish that are honest hearted Gods blessings be amongst them all imparted And last of all O God Blesse and defend Both mee and mine and so I make an END The Conclusion ALL things that e're begining had Must have an end bee 't good or bad So hath this Book a Story sad that 's come sir To see you and some speciall friends And pray's you give your recommends To those in pow'r that may defend's from some sir That would abuse the Cavalier For writeing what he hath done here Though 't is not half I 'le make appear he could sir VVho is so Moderate that drives At the amendment of mens lives And that Peace be amongst them strives there should sir Now if the Soldier favour find Amongst his friends to be so kind As to Imprint his Book my mind to you sir I 'le tell is that the Kingdome o're It goe to shew what some before Ne're knew and I 'le say more T IS TRVE SIR A Dialogue betwixt the Soldier Author of the Book and an Echo being a summary Discourse of the whole matter briefly resounded by the Echo Sold Hark I heere is an Echo listen and hark Ech Mark S I will ralk with it shall I nor now Ech Now S and tell the passageâ—â— and then mark Ech Mark S what answer it make 〈…〉 â—â—ll how Ech How S the Irish into Rebellion first Ech First S gathered in a Riottous Rout Ech Rout S against Protestants their fury burst Ech Burst S for they were so full it needs must out Ech Out S of all measure was the cruell Papist Ech Papist S Bloudy a Murdrous Rogue was Teige Ech Teige S and Dermot too worse than a meer Athist Ech Athist S who Cov'nant keeps there is no league Ech League S but the Pope doth indulge to be broke Ech Broke S who to the Rebbells sent into Ireland Ech Ireland S a Bull that made the Kingdom smoak Ech Smoak S and to burne as if it were a fire-brand Ech Fire-brand S so starting mad the Bull was made Ech Made S so that the British should be pilled Ech Pilled S plundred their Cattell stoln prey'd Ech Prey'd S and ev'ry Protestant should be Killed Ech Killed S hanged starâ—ed to pitty no-man Ech No-man S that was of Brittish race a child Ech Child S newly born and ev'ry tender VVoman Ech Woman S to put toth'Sword he judg'd too mild Ech Mild S So was the Bull for the POVVDER PLOT Ech Plot S the Lords Annoynted must not be spared Ech Spared S then all his Kingdoms sure should not Ech Not S but the Lord who for our safetyes cared Ech Cared S his Name alone be praised then Ech Then S both the King and State preserved we see Ech See S which should be a warning to all men Ech Men S Watchfull and Carefull alwayes to be Ech Be S Pondering these things and keeping sober Ech Sober S so that they may alwayes Remember Ech Remember S FORTY ONE the moneth OCTOBER Ech October S and the FIFTH day of NOVEMBER Ech NOUEMBER FINIS
and such Sectarians I give the Name of Protestants to all That joyn'd against those that wee Papists call Nor was the Conquest made by Cavaliers Alone Nor yet by the Parliamenteers The Earl of Ormond Noble was i th' warre And so was Inchyquin who went as farre In danger for the time they both Commanded As any men could doe till Cromwell Landed Now when he came to give the Deel his due In Ireland he praise-worthy was though true It is for all his Acts in England done Against both Kings the Father and the Son I count him base But here some one may say His Irish Service too 's condemn'd this day Well if it be I think 't is without cause For Ireland then was in the very Jawes Of Death and had been swallow'd up no doubt It the Irish then had not got the Rout. But 't was not He nor his Army did all The Service that was since done as I shall Now make appear for then brave Sir Charles Coot Had been exempt who so Nobly stood too 't Maintaining of the Common cause Gods just Revenge against Murther whose very dust I honour who in 's Fathers stepps so trod As to the Rebells was the Scourge or Rod Of the Almighty He by good advise Did kill the Nitts that they might not growe Lice The Lord of Broghill too herein ought not Amongst the VVorthyes once to be forgott Generall Iones Reignolds and many more Brave things in Ireland did but as before I said These were Instruments now the praise To God alone let us returne alwayes And left that Teige should say He for the King Did fight which to me is a hatefull thing And pretend that these Worthyes were his Fees My mind and conscience I will now disclose I think they served God the King and State That were most Active in breaking Teigs pate Nay more I say I think Broghil an Câ—ot Against the King never lift hand or foot Whereas the Irish Rebel-like ran out Against the King and Law and meant no doubt To sett the Pope above his head whose right Before the Kings they did preferre in spight Could ever they then though deceitfully They seem'd reform'd have claime to Loyalty I answer nay God would not them permitt To goe unpunnish'd for all their subtile witt They vs'd when vanquish'd and quite overcome Then Teige is for the King forscoth for whome They Banish'd were and with him were partakers In sufferings impos'd by his forsakers No they did the King much wrong and great harmes Pretending for his right they took up Armes Yet was not able him for to restore No that 's a worke for those I nam'd before Broghil and Coot with the Irish Brigade So call'd with Monke their helping hands so lay'd That after subduing the Rebells here His Majesty in Peace they brought in clear And re-established him in his Throne O're whome on Earth Superiour ther 's none All this premis'd the Rebells vanquish'd quite Fairly in Field the Remnant put to flight Thus Ireland was reduc'd But let ts see how Our gallant Soldiers are requited now And whether they that have escap'd their Graves By their own Countrey men are not made slaves And first I will begin with those they say Did Cromwell serve who for Arrears of pay Had land sect out to them in satisfaction You 'd think them well But truth is no detraction Some private Soldiers were by their Commanders Chous'd of their Land and Pack'd away to Flanders And he that would not goe but thought to stay And live on 's Land they sound another way To make him weary of it by Law Suits Against him to commence whereby the fruits Of all his hopes his labour and his Land He spends at Law his Capraine to withstand VVeary'd at Law to purchase Peace at last He sells his Land and then that danger 's past Now while his money laâ—ts or some short space His Captaine makes him Seargeant of that place But this nere holds for he with Cap in hand To 's Captaines wife at all turnes cannot stand Nor can he Irish speake to buy and sell Nor tennants can procure with them to dwell Then out hee 's turn'd and in comes teige in 's roome VVhose double diligence like a new Broome Sweeps all clean is just toth ' Captaines mind VVhat e're his Master sayes hee 'l swear so kind Besides he proves toth ' Children of his Master That when the Maid chides them he swears hee 'l basther VVith Voâ—rneen glagal and Agra the crea He takes his Masters Son upon his knee And Streapâ—h granah learns the Child to call the Maid Buddah a Man adding taw Brawl And then teige laughs and sweares by 's gossips hand His Fathers son's the best in all Ireland Thus filthy words are taught the child in 's Cradle Which seldome are left off when come toth ' Saddle This pleases so the Mother of the child that all teig does is well she 's so beguil'd VVith flattering that now Teigs wife must Nurse The next Child she shall have Teige sweares his purse Shall be the Childs Now hee 's a Fosterfather Not for his own but for this Child hee 'l gather Hee 'l give the Child a Coat I Bawn of Bandle And buy it Erogel gaulda and then dandle The babe in 's Armes crying shane Poge Cade Poge â—ic a me Vaister Nab â—ousa Shane Oge Yoâ— tow Lawnah This pleases more and more Teigs now of Kin that was not so before VVho now but Teige His counsel so prevailes That all the English Servants by his tales Are threatned to be turn'd away his Cozins Come flocking round about him by whole dozens Donnough the groome steps in in Richards place And Sbevane Oge doth turne out gentle Grace Then Gilla Patrick Hugh and the Mac Roryes Are sent for home who 're out amongst the Toryes VVith them their Morter-pieces Owna Sive And Moar great beastly Drones creep intoth ' Hive VVho so bewitch the Captaine and his wife That these must be Followers all their life The English Neighbours undegenerate These Furies cause their Fosterer to hate Do Trespass on their land and drive to Pound The honest mens Cattle off their own ground To Law they goe now all things sute in fitnes And Right or wrong Teige is the Captaines Witnes But may we think that Teige and his salse Crue To their Fosterer will alwayes prove true No you may sweare it for what 's bred i th' bone Will not out of the flesh when all is done 'T is knowne too well in Ages past how they Behav'd themseves in peace and how i th' day Of warre their friendship was but feing'd in peace VVhich gave them great advantage to encrease Rebellions Then would shew their Cruelty To Gossips and their Fosterers and why Should any think that these who are the seed And offspring of a Murdrous Bloudy breed Be otherwise than they Had these but power Both Root and Branch of English in one houre
yet found out No Treatise of Religion and I doubt No History or good Romance worth reading VVas yet by any of them writt and spreading In any part oth'world what they doe call Philosophy wherein their boast's not small Is skill in Sophistry wherewith to wrangle They are well verst who do sor Trifles Iangle And with a Pack of learned Cow-boys they May with the world compare none sayes them Nay On th' other side VVhole Volumes English works through Christendom havegone yea'mongst the Turks 'T is true some Irish speak good Latine though The most of their Schoolmasters do not so But none of them can speak one word of Greek or Hebrew in those tongues they are to seek VVhere all the English that do bear the name of Scholars are good linguists in the same And such as through the Gramar scarse have read In England are Doctours to them here bred The Padagogâ—es here cry'd up Humanists May blush if shame they had to come ith'Lists Of our half-Gramarians All but the blind And obstinate this truth can eas'ly find Nothing hath done more hurt toth ' English Nation Than Irish Schoolmasters by all relation The Fosterer the babes the Schools the youth Do English turn to Irish of a truth Their Speech and Manners are corrupted so That Mongrell-English may for Irish goe As in all Ages past they had an hand In all Rebellions hatch'd within this Land So will they still it much is to be doubted Ioyne with the Irish if they be not Routed For many of them who were well to passe From Church have lately turn'd now go to Masse So then the Nurse Schoolmaster and the Priest Doe foster Teach and Preach up Antichrist The Cannons of the English Church forbid Such Schoolmasters yet of them wee 're not rid And divers Statutes were in Ireland made Against them Fostering and Priests now layd Behind the backs of such as rule the rost For ' mongst the Great ones they 're conniv'd at most Though some of them are free from Imputation Of such like deeds It is my chief perswasion Some Justices of Peace for their owne ends To my own knowledge have bespoke their friends To send their Children to an IrishMaster A Papist and but a Gramaticaster And seded him within an English towne VVherein were English SchoolMasters and downe Have voted them whose skill if not exceed Did equall his of whom there was no need Vnless it were to teach an Irish smack To such as did it in their English lack This ill Example gave occasion to The Common people for the like to doe And by such means the Bread is ta'ne away Out of the English mouths now at this day A good requitall for their comeing o're Soldiers into this Land and it is more Than Probable 't will prove an Invitation To other English for planting of this Nation Shibboleth Iephthah's word recorded stands Which try'd the Rebell Ephraimites whose bands Were scatterd when Forty and two thousand At â—ordan Passages fell by his hand Though they themselues Ephraimites deny'd By Sibboleth pronouncing they 're descry'd So here I say the tongue will soon discover Which is the man that is an Irish lover Bid him but say This thing in Mouth A Third Hee 'l fairly say Dis Ting in Mout A Tird Some say the water of St. Patricks well When English drink thereof like to a Spell By Magick Art procur'd makes them forgetfull Of English Manners others hold deceitfull Is the Irish Clime transforming Mens minds Toth ' Countrey Customs turning with all winds But not the Water nor the Irish Clime Have pow'r o're Noble minds Spirits sublime Contemne the Elements there 's no mutation VVith them Nor subject are to alteration 'T is he who hath an evil eye whose mind Is not with Vertue but full fraught with wind And such as place their chiefest happinesse In things below the Sun whose thoughts are lesse To be good than great faine would have excuses For unjust actions and father abuses Done to their Neighbours on the land or water VVhen their base hearts are guilty of the matter He well observ'd in writing Irelands Story Sir Iohn Davies Since first the English Conquer'd it the the glory VVhereof he gave to Strongbows Martiall hand VVho then made Englands King Lord of this Land How that the great Estates some Chieftaines had VVithin three Ages made them prove as bad Or worse than the Wild-Irish were before For they did much oppress and Lord it o're Their followers that help'd them for to gaine The Countrey So that these poore souls were faine For England from their Tyranny to flye Here quitting their Estates when by and by Broke forth Rebellions for the strongest hand was all the Law they would have in this Land Then England would be forc'd againe to send More Men to make new Conquests and defend The Title which to Ireland it did claime For the first Conquerers were scarce in name English Degenerating so in manners That they did March under the Rebells Banners And it was harder to suppress that crewe Than the Wild Irish who was beat by few Nay 't is suppos'd the Major part this day Of Irish are but Mongrells such as they For many of Queen Elizabeths men In these last Warres were Rebells But 't is ten To one that they were Papists or my life For it they Marry'd had an Irish wife Which were grand Causes of degeneration Ever observ'd to happen in this Nation 'T was not for want of wholsome Laws still made So long it was e're Ireland could be said To be an English Plantation but ' cause There wanted Execution of those Laws For had Oppression been but peep'd into The meaner sore had liv'd here as they doe In England where Yeomen and Tradesmen dare Demand their debts o th' best not standing bare And if the statutes against Fosterers And those made against Irish SchoolMasters And Priests had been observ'd this Land had then Been well planted with perfect English men Such as to flatter are asham'd or turne From English principles would sooner burne VVho love their Countrey speech bee 't ne're so broad Beyond an Irish Tone though their abode Be in the Countrey chuse to be untarght Rather than learn'd esteeming that so naught If none but Irish Teachers they can have They'd Latine Jack their Native tongue to save And rather than marry an Irish wife VVill Batchellers remain for tearme of life And for Religion had rather than Papists Be any thing the Heathens and meer Athists Did never hold To Murther men was Just Because not of their Sect. As Papists must Believe to kill an Heretick is Merit Monsters in Nature that 's their Divlish Spirit The English Custom 's not to put to Nurse Their Children untill Gold have fill'd their purse Or esse the Mother can't give suck and then They claime no Foster-kindred being Men Nor are they Foster'd up in Idlenes Although their Parents do great wealth possesse But they do
bring them up at such a rate As is most sutable to their Estate Some shall their Youth at Schoole and Colledge spend Others at Inns of Court their Studies end Some go to Trades others their Stately Teams Are wont to drive VVhilst here all 's in extreames A Gentleman or Churle Scholar or Cowboy No Trade but Merchant serves for ev'ry Plow-boy Hee that can reckon but his Pedegree Twenty descents from a Gentleman Hee I say as a poor gentleman will beg All o're the Kingdome till he hath one leg i th ' Grave rather than he will so disgrace His farre fetche Kindred and their Gentile race By being of a Trade though ne're so good He will be Hang'd first and not stain his Bloud Another Evil in Ireland we see VVhich happens most to such as English be Farmers can't live unlesse their VVealth be great Or be befriended by some Potentate A Freehold worth ten pounds a year's no more To live on than to make the owner Poor VVho must attend all Sessions and Assiâ—es And Turnes and County Courts and all devices That may be if his land doe bound or 's near Any Great Mans He dares not but be there Or else hee ' s Fin'd a Quarters Rent at least That in short space he shall not have a Beast To ride on or a Garran for to Plough 'T was ever fo in Ireland and so 't is now Then fain hee 'd sett his Land But who dares take it For he must Sell't out right or quite forsake it ' Cause this Great man doth only aime to Ha'te Hee Sells it to him even at 's owne Rate Then if hee 's VVife for England hee 'l away Before all 's gone where that in Peace he may Of a small Stock or by a working hand Live better there than here on 's Freehold Land To goe or stay now doubtfull is the matter For live he can't here well if he can't Flatter And if therein he get not the right knack He shall have Teige and Dermott on his back With Mongrell Sheorge and his appostate friends To sit on 's skirts ' gainst whome good Lord defend's Who will back-bite him and traduce him so That though hee 's poor yet poorer he shall grow Ill sed Cloathed and Lodg'd the man falls sick And weary of the world cares not how quick Death summons him unto the silent grave VVho trusts in Christ that he his Soul will save Hee liues not long but yet he doth survive His neighbours Charity which he alive Amongst his Countreymen long since saw dead VVho unto Doggs do throw the Childrens bread And wil use means to save an Oxe or Cow Of their owne but their poor Countrey-man now They have no need of for he looks for Cates They say is too fine mouth'd and at the rates The Irish de can't live give them Potatoes They 'l Boyle and Roast and stroke up their Mustachoes This makes them Teige employ cause he will serve For lâ—sse than English can so they must starve Thus Irish fare must serve the man that labours Which hath destroy'd many poor English neighbours The honest man thus deed now goes to wracke That family his widdow at her back Getts up their youngest child the rest by th' hand She takes and goes to him who hath much Land An English man suppose and tells her grief And for her and the children beggs relief From thence they strike o're to an Irish Village VVhere Stacks of Corne they see and store of tillage But when they 're there the people of the place Come round about them stareing in their face And call them Clan Igauda's in disgrace That without Alms from thence they trudge apace Then doe they goe to such another man Though ten miles off if one such finde they can As was the Childrens Father though no kin VVith whom they doe make bold he takes them in And setts such meat before them as he eats Condoles their case and gives advise not threates To goe for England amongst their owne friends And when refresh'd a Garrane to them lends To bring them to some towne with English planted VVho have not yet forgot that they once wanted Such men as was these poor soules Father and They make a purse to send them for England VVhere we suppose they shall some comfort find ' Mongst Christians there who will relieve their kind And where I leave them sadly to report How our Grandees Oppresse the meaner sort VVhich to confirm and to make Assidavit I 'de bring Tea thousand if need were to have-it But now ' cause this poor Man doth personate The major part o th' English who of late VVere Soldiers let me not begrudge my breath To tell how it was sound he came by 's Death The Crowner being call'd one Mr Justman VVhome if I mayn't believe I 'le never trust-man In pannelled a JURY whose Fore-man VVas Mr. Reason next him if I can tells name I thinke was Mr. Look-sharp who VVith three more such was sworn and next unto Them Mr. Experience with his Pair-Royall And three with Mr. Tell-troth pass'd o th' Tryall First Reason he began the Corps to view He pass'd byth'old wounds and look'd about for new But finding none he Judged him to die Oâ—â— Countrey-Disease or some maladie Inward which master'd had his vitall part And did suppose Oppression went to 's heart Next Mr. Look-sharp with his three espy'd OId wounds that were on 's head and some on 's side Which look'd like Cutts Thrusts or Stals with Skeans The least whereof might well have been a means To have brought him to 's end for such like Scarres Had many Kill'd the first day of the Warres But ' cause they saw them whole they pass'd them by And on his meagre face they east their eye Which did denote he had been hardly vsed And to say truth was over much abused They spy'd his neck to bend his Sholders black As if hee 'd borne Oppression on his back VVhich made them judge that gave the man his Bane VVhereat the Corps did as 't were Sneeze againe Then said Experience and his three Friends The Countrey-Disease in three kinds extends Itselfe first Murther then the Blondy-â—lix Which hath consum'd more men by three in six Than did the Sword in the late Bloudy VVarre The last's Oppression whereof lett 's take care o th' First and Last Ireland was never free But to the Last let ts Death ascribed be At length comes tell-troth who brings up the Rear And his companions all speak without feare That this man had been long sore sick But never Had any comfortable thing whatever To cure his grief the man was Broken-hearted E're since the day that he with his Land parted They said he faintly spake on his Death-bed Not all the Wounds he had receiv'd on 's head And in his body Some at Knocknonosse Some at Conmell at Lymrick and at Rosse No nor the Bloudy Flux but 't was Oppression That did him Kill