Rapine shall deflower Famine and Plague Shall both at once walk the Round Then Swords shall be Physicians And by killing cure the wound 8. Churches and Towns With parallelles spires Shall vanish in the furious flames Of unconfined fires Such shrieks from earth To heaven shall flye That death will be less torment Then to hear each other dye Who ever famine 'scapes the sword shall destroy A story sad and truer Then the dreadful tale of Troy Frighted I wak'd And on my knee did implore Some mercy for my former crimes And vow'd to fight no more The Farewell 1. FAir Fidelia leave me now I may no more Thy Deity adore Nor offer to thy shrine I serve one more divine And greater far then you Hark the trumpets call away I must go Lest the foe Lose the King and win the day Let 's march bravely on Charge them in the Van Our Cause Gods is Though the ods is Ten times ten to one 2. Tempt no more I may not yield Although thy eyes A Kingdom might surprize Leave off thy wanton tales The high-born Prince of Wales Is mounted in the Field Where the loyal Gentry flock Though forlorn Nobly born Of a near decaying stock Cornish boyes be bold Never lose your hold He that loiters Is by Traytors Basely bought and sold. 3. One kiss more and then farewell Nay now give o're I prethee fool no more Why cloud'st thou so thy beams I see by these extreams A woman's heaven or hell Pray the King may have his own That the Queen May be seen With her Babes on Englands Throne Rally up your men One shall vanquish ten Victory we Come to try thy Favour once agen The Resolution 1642. 1. ASk me no more why there appears Daily such troops of Dragoneers Since it is requisite you know They rob cum Privilegio 2. Ask me not why the Gaole confines Our Hierarchy of best Divines Since 't was allow'd by full consent The Priviledge of Parliament 3. Ask me no more why from Blackwall Such tumults come unto White-hall Since some in Parliament agree â—Tis for the Subjects Liberty 4. Ask me not why to London comes So many Muskets Pikes and Drums So that we fear they 'l never cease 'T is to procure the Kingdoms Peace 5. Ask me no more why little Finch From Parliament began to flinch Since such as dare to Hawk and Kings May easily clip a Finches wings 6. Ask me no more why Strafford's dead Or why they aim'd so at his head Faith all the reason I can give 'T is thought he was too wise to live 7. Ask me no more where 's all the Plate Brought in at such an easie rate It to the owners back they 'l bring In case it fall not to the King 8. Ask me noâ— why the House delights Not in our two wise Kentish Knights Their Counsels never were thought good Because they were not understood 9. Ask me no more why Livesey goes To ceaze all rich men as his foes Whilst Countrey Farmers sigh and sob Yeomen may beg when Knights do rob 10. Ask me no more by what strange slight London's Lord Major was made a Knight Since there 's a strength sprung out of war That can at once both make and mar 11. Ask me no more why in this age I sing so free without a cage My answer is I need not fear All England doth the burthen bear 12. Ask me no more for I grow dull Why Hotham keeps the Town of Hull I 'le answer ye one word for all All things are thus when Kings do falt The Kingly Complaint The King Imprison'd at Holmby The Tune 1. In faith I cannot keep my sheep I Am a poor and patient King Though some are pleas'd to call me Pope But yet I have a holy hope God will relieve my suffering By letting Peace and Plenty spring That every man may have his own Then I shall sit agen upon my Throne 2. The Royal Consort of my age That hath so oft my Cradles crown'd With false aspersions they do wound According to their holy rage My simple Subjects they engage And arm them with a proud pretence To bring me home in beating me from thence 3. A Reformation next is sought Episcopacy must go down A Tinker's art must mend the Crown By Weavers we may well be taught But now at last they have us brought O're many rigid Rocks and Shelves They are contending what to be themselves 4. My Countreymen I most commend For they have made the most of me Alas it was their poverty They did it to no other end But they have too much valued Me And over-priz'd my Innoncence They could demand no more then thirty pence 5. A rout of Rebels ring me round Such is the King of Englands Court Who but to please their Pride in sport Have brought my Peers unto the ground They chase me like an Infidel Or one that Christian Blood betray'th Although I write Defender of the Faith Rebels Market 1646. 1. NOw that the holy Wars are done Between the Father and the Son And that we have by righteous fate Distrest a Monarch and his Mate Forcing their Heir flye into France To weep out his Inheritance 2. Let 's set open all our Packs Which contain ten thousand wracks Cast away on the Red Sea At Naseby and at Newberry If then you 'l come provided with gold We dwell Close by Hell Where we â—ell What you will That is ill For Charity there is cold 3. If by thee a Murther came We can give 't another Name But alwayes provided thus That thou hast been one of us Gold is the God shall pardon the guilt We have What shall save Thee from Grave For the Law We can awe Though a Princes blood be spilt 4. If a Church thou hav'st bereft Of its Plate 't is holy theft Or for zeal-sake if thou beest Prompted on to spoil a Priest Gold 's a prevailing advocate Then come Bring a summe Law is dumb And submits To our wits For Policy guides a State The Leaguer 1. JOyn thy ennamel'd cheek to mine I 'le bring thee where is rasie Wine And where a loving Leaguer's kept Where many tankard tears are wept For the Cash That is gone that is here Joy and grief in a tear We will wash There we study Revenges Make Plots without hinges More Black then the fifth of Novembers In our Pipe and our Cup Our Estates are rak'd up Till our eyes twinkle like to the embers 2. There with a sack-incensed face In speckled state and flaming grace With dabbled doublet doth appear The curral front of Cayalier With a bowle Full of sack such as can In the most dying man Raise a soul And forbids any venter The Leaguer to enter Or near it commit such a trespass If his cheeks do not shine With the blood of the Vine And his Nostrils appear like a Respass 3. In Fletcher's Wit and Iohnson's style There will we sit and fret a while Cursing the
high for men Shew'd it and shut it up agen An Epitaph supposed to be written by A Gentleman 〈◊〉 himself who dyed of a Disease called by the namâ— of a Bad Wife Nay tread and spare not Passenger My sence is now past feeling Who to my grave a wound did bear Within past Physicks healing But do not if thou be to wed To read my story tarry Lest thou creep into my cold bed rather then live to marry For a long strife with a leud wife Worst of all ill beside Made me grow weary of my life So I fell sick and dyed An Epitaph on Mr. John Kirk Merchant Reader within this Dormitory lyes The wet Memento of a Widows Eyes A Kirk though not of Scotland one in whom Loyalty liv'd and Faction found no room No Conventicle-Christian but he dy'd A Kirk of England by the Mothers side In brief to let you know what you have lost Kirk was a Temple of the Holy Ghost An end of the Elâ—gies and Epitaphs A Canting Rogue Parallel'd with a Phanatick IS the worlds running Ulcer an unfix't Piece of mortality begot betwixt A Tinker and his Doxy in a Den Of Filchers which they call the bowzing ken Nurs'd by a maunding Mort whose Mother tongue Directs him first the way to Nipp a Bung And mill the lower from him whose gazing eyes Are fix'd upon London's varieties That the sad Countrey man is forc'd to score At 's lodging till he be suppli'd with more Whilst the impatient Lawyer makes a pause Pernicious enough to spoil his Cause Nor can the ablest Councel tell him when Or by what trick to gain his purse agen Thus is poor Colter poison'd with a drench Made of Law Latin and low Pedlers French A Language which admits no derivation But is intire and had its generation Without dispute from Babel Tower's conclusion For it is us'd in nothing but confusion As Prigging Prancers Tipping Nab's and such Phrases as make the slovenly Low Dutch A polite Dialect he is one whose bane Doth much participate with that of Cain The Brother-killing President whose fate Gives him the title of a Runnagate His body is his land and every louse Upon 't are Cattle the next hedge his house He pretends Palmestry and as he passes Through Villages the gamesome Countrey Lasses Do get about him and do much importune The Rogue with meat to tell them a good fortune Or else they 'l give him nothing and to ease 'em In their desires the Knave knows how to please 'em He and the Annabaptists were in season One canted Felony and 'tother Treason And if his Mort with a French Coltstaff strike 'T is ten to one they snuffle both alike Both preach in Barns and teach in the same tones One storms a Henroost 'tother strikes at Thrones Both hate Authority for they 're often crost One with the Noose tother the Whipping-poast In point of Baptisme for ought I know The Rogue 's the better Christian of the two The Annabaptist in his teaching tone Defyes God-fathers he 'l have twelve or none In Marriages the Rogue and He accords For man and wife take one anothers words And very fruitful in their spawn they be Both deal in liberty and Leachery To conclude all they are a brace of men That are so like they are the worse agen Whose dispositions could a Limner paint You 'd not know which is Rogue or which is Saint On the Ordinance prohibiting Cavaliers to wear Swords April 1646. YOu of the Royalty attend your Summons 'T is this day Order'd by the Lords and Commons Assembled in that sacred place which we Must look upon as England's destiny That all such dreadful men whose fame doth ring For active Loyalty to God and King Laws and their native Liberties shall be Disarm'd and made a Swordless Cavalry For some such cause as formerly was given When men were levy'd against Charles and Heaven At that time when the Publick Faith withstood The Creed and Plate was melted into Blood When Subjects sought their Master to betray At the old rate of thirty pence a day When Prentices against all Rules of Reason Were early Free-men in the Trade of Treason When by the Factious Commons wise fore-casting Triaenial was a word for Everlasting When the Mad Shires did with Petitions run Humbly desiring they may be undone Not dreaming that our English Inquisitions Did onely sit to answer such Petitions When States-mens Trunks were fill'd up to the brim In Anno Primo Regni Iohannis Pym With more such reasons which are yet unknown You are to lay your Bloody Bilbo's down And march disbladed since the House of Lords Have voted Honest men must wear no Swords And shall this daunt your Royal Spirits that Have gain'd a Fame time cannot ruinate Your Enemies though with a wrong pretence Have done you right and put your Innocence In the true garb when did you ever see Innocence figur'd with Artillery What need you Weapons since there is not one Of worth enough to draw your Sword upon That 's not your Sovereigns Friend and is 't not pitty On the sinister spawn of a Committee To vent your valiant wrath calm your high passion They dare as well do that deserves damnation In such an Act that 's pardon proof as see You wear your Swords it is their jealousie Of you their King nay even of their God When have you known Children delight the Rod So Cowards when their paler fears increase Take blows and subtly bind men to the Peace What need you mutter that your Swords are gone Since you may see Iustice her self hath none Your Valour is not question'd 't is for that You are disarm'd nor do they wonder at Your swordless side for all that justly owe Allegiance to Valour truly know A bladeless Cavalier can more afford Then he whose thigh is branded with a Sword Be not dismaid and you in time shall see The Kings Cause hath an occult Quality Your Swords are needless sing be merry and Pray for the King 't is fit you understand Man's ineffectual aid is vain and light When He that made the hand intends to fight For you will finde when Rebels Race is run They shall be conquer'd without Sword or Gun On a view of London and Westminster on tother side the Water 1658. THis pair of sinful Cities we with sorrow May parallel with Sodom and Gomorrah Though one Crime greater then they durst do there Never to be forgot was acted here Cities so pamper'd up with prosp'rous sins That if they could they 'd ravish Cherubins Cramp their Creator and with popular stings Destroy him 'cause he is the King of Kings A Perjur'd Pair who to secure their own Will Pimp whilst Fornication tups the Throne Prostitute sacred Places keep the Door Where each Lay-Lecher makes the Church a Whore They swallow Oaths and wicked Protestations And with their Axe cut off God grant me patience The Head of Peace therefore they are be 't known A Decolated
Fletchers wit A man that pleas'd all pallats therefore sit And see the last Scene out pray do not run Into confusion till the Play be done Should strangers see you mix among us thus They would be apt to think you some of Vs. Pray keep your seats you do not sit in fear As in the dangerous dayes of Oliver It is not now in good time be it spoke Enter the Red-Coats Exit Hat and Cloak But such a prosp'rous change doth now attend ye That those who did affront ye shall defend ye The Epilogue spoken by the Tamer a Woman VVIth licence of my Husband I apply My self to this honour'd society I fear I have offended the good Laws Of houshold government and given cause By my example in this wilde assay For some to put in practice what we play And 'cause the Breeches now come near the make Of Petty-Coats may willingly mistake These are old quarrels and no doubt came in When Adam digg'd and Madam Eve did spin They 'r ne're the honester for that the crime Of bold Rebellion is older then Time The breach of trust is old the breach of Laws Murther of Kings witness the good Old Cause But we exhibit to your Approbation Not the Rebellion but the Reformation A Prologue to introduce the first Woman that came to Act on the Stage in the Tragedy call'd The Moor of Venice I Come unknown to any of the rest To tell you news I saw the Lady drest The Woman playes to day mistake me not No Man in Gown or Page in Petty-Coat A Woman to my knowledge yet I cann't If I should dye make Affidavit on't Do you not twitter Gentlemen I know You will be censuring do 't fairly though 'T is possible a vertuous woman may Abhor all sorts of looseness and yet play Play on the Stage where all eyes are upon her Shall we count that a crime France calls an honour In other Kingdoms Husbands safely trust ' â—m The difference lies onely in the custom And let it be our custom I advise I 'm sure this Custom 's better then th' Excise And may procure us custom hearts of flint Will melt in passion when a woman 's in 't But Gentlemen you that as judges sit In the Star-Chamber of the house the Pit Have modest thoughts of her pray do not run To give her visits when the Play is done With dam me your most humble Servant Lady She knows these things as well as you it may be Not a bit there dear Gallants she doth know Her own deserts and your temptations too But to the point in this reforming age We have intents to civilize the Stage Our women are defective and so siz'd You 'd think they were some of the Guard disguiz'd For to speak truth men act that are between Forty and fifty Wenches of fifteen With bone so large and nerve so incomplyant When you call Desdemona enter Giant We shall purge every thing that is unclean Lascivious scurrilous impious or obscene And when we 've put all things in this fair way Barebones himself may come to see a Play Epilogue ANd how d' ye like her come what is 't ye drive at She 's the same thing in publick as in private As far from being what you call a Whore As Desdemona injur'd by the Moor Then he that censures her in such a case Hath a soul blacker then Othello's face But Ladies what think you for if you tax Her freedom with dishonour to your Sex She means to act no more and this shall be No other Play but her own Tragedy She will submit to none but your commands And take Commission onely from your hands A Prologue to the Poor mans Comfort Enter reading the Title May 28. 1661. THe Poor man's comfort this Title some will say Is fitter for a Pray'r-book then a Play And some may censure who are Democraticks The times will change Players are turn'd Phanaticks And the Red Bull where sports were wont to be Is now a Meeting-house would 't were for me A good full Meeting-house we should not be Contrivers of a new Fifth-Monarchy And charge up for King Iudas no the very Plain truth is this we meet but to be merry Then do you judge what pitty 't is that we Should every day want merry company Surely the fault is ours or yours or both Let us consider where it lyes in troth You will appear most guilty I 'm afraid 'T is a full house that makes a Play well play'd A numerous presence doth at once inspire Actor and Auditor with mutual fire Therefore pray meet come as you do to tother If not for us yet to meet one another But let me see what was I going to say O! 't is about the Title of the Play The great man's Comfort is above my thought The Merchant's Comfort is a Ship full fraught The Plow man's Comfort is a Field well till'd Our Poor man's Comfort is a House well fill'd March 16. 1661. An Advent to the Kings Coronation LEt all your hearts be fill'd with joy King Charles his Coronation Day Is coming on let every thing That fears God and Honours the King Advance their spirits and express A Royal loyal Thankfulness That man that was by dangers tost From place to place and almost lost He that did 'scape an Armies stroke And made a Kingdom of an Oak The Royal ORPHANT that was fed With sorrow and with borrow'd bread He whom his Subjects would confound And crucifie shall now be Crown'd Then let all souls for such salvation Cry up King Charles his Coronation On the Day THe happy day long wish'd by some By God's appointment now is come In which our joyful eyes shall see King Charles adorn'd with Majesty And He who liv'd a life like Iob shall now with Crown Scepter and Globe With peaceful seed ascend his Throne And every man shall have his own The Iuncto Oliver and Rump That turn'd up all the Knaves for Trump Are totally dissolv'd and we Are Subjects to true Majesty Then let us all with one consent Pray for the good Old Government Under whose power we may encrease In Truth and Treasure Ease and Peace And Children yet unborn shall live to say This was the happy Coronation Day After the Coronation THe joyful dayes are come and We Obtain our ancient Liberty Religion rules Rebellion rots We sleep securely without plots Our Lives are safe our Laws are free White-Hall's a Court or Equity We are secur'd from Tyrants Swords Malignant and such Canting words Are out of date Phanatick broods That preach't away your Lands and Goods Are put to silence and we fear No forgeries at Westminster Would you know how all this comes round Take 't in four words King Charles is Crown'd Since it is so let every thing Praise God and say Long live the King A Let any delivered Jan. 1. 1659. to a Friend as a New-Years Giâ—t. From All and more then I have written here I wish protection to
puddle of their brains That pull'd down grapes and put up grains They are foes Who Bagpipes for Shalmes Deal in small Bear and Psalmes Through the Nose May want of drink grieve'm And no man relieve'm Till scorching inform them what hell is May Houndsditch and Towerditch With Moorditch and Shoreditch Be emptied to fill up their bellies 4. May all the ills that can be thought Either too heavy or too hot Light on his belly and his back That envies us the joyes of Sack Let him dye Or let him live with so much strife That he may beg to lose his life 'Till he cry Good-fellows forgive me If you dare believe me By the soul and the sword of a Lay-man I 'le draw out my Whinyard And set up the Vineyard In spight of the Devil and Dray-man The Discovery A Pastoral Song in two parts being a Dialogue betwixt Alexis and Eliza a Shepheard and Shepherdess 1. Eliza. SHepherd I will tell thee news That I fear will scarce delight thee Alexis Let me hear the worst ensues Spoke by thee it cannot fright me Angels voices ne're abuse 2. Eliza. Walking late on yonder Plain A Shepheard at our meeting grumbled Alexis Tush 't was but a Rural Swain For his pains he shall be humbled If we ever meet again 3. Eliza. 'T is reported thou and I Are intwin'd in Love's embraces Alexis 'T is because that we do flye From those Lads and sun-burnt Lasses Which were once our Company 4. Alexis But what ever they surmize Let not your own tongue betray you Their suspicions have no eyes Do not let your fears bewray you To the traps which they devise 5. Eliza. But if they to me should go And their true suspicions mutter Alexis Be you so wise to answer no When they imaginations utter Do you imagine 't is not so 6. Both. Let us keep our Loves entire Like two Turtles of a feather In the heat of our desire Let us live and dye together Flaming still in amorous fire A Chirping Cup. 1. DIng dong ding Let the Bells ring Leave off your caring He is fool'd That thinks his gold Is safe by sparing Who doth know As times go Who shall have the sharing Then to prevent all Let 's merrily quaff our Wine To the King and his Consort divine I prethee fill it as much as 't will hold We 'l swagger home Stagger home When we are fill'd And reel away misfortune 2. More joyes bring Let the Boyes sing And Fidlers rant it We 'l drink Wine Though the fine Presbyters vaunt it They that thus Drink like us Never can be daunted Then with Canary Let every mans Coblet be crown'd In Sack let our sorrows be drown'd It is the right way our foes to confound We 'l bang the Rogues Hang the Rogues For Charles his glory And that will end the story The Occasion How the Warre began 1. I 'Le tell you how the War began The holy ones assembled For so they call'd their Party than Whose Consciences so trembled They pull'd the Bishops from their seats And set up ev'ry Widgeon The Scotch were sent for to do feats With Oat-cakes and Religion 2. They pluckt Communion-tables down And broke our painted glasses They threw our Altars to the ground And tumbled down the Crosses They set up Cromwell and his Heir The Lord and Lady Claypole Because they hated Common-Prayer The Organ and the Maypole The Roundheads Revolt Tune Souldiers Life 1. THen farewell say to a Souldiers life And welcome the Trowel and Spade â—or he that doth lye with another mans wife Shall a Cuckold himself be made 2. â—o he that purloyns the Commonweal And takes from other men 〈◊〉 Plunder which is in plain English to steal Let him look to be plunder'd agen 3. Farewell to the trade of Musket and Blade Which nothing but mischiefs procures For by the endeavours of Coblers and Weavers The Land hath been govern'd by Brewers 4. And now my Comrades fall close to your trades Leave Scepters to men that are high-born Though Treachery wins when first it begins It commonly endeth at Tyburn 5. Let every thing conform to the King To Englands Church I 'le be a true Son The way to be bang'd and at last to be hang'd Is to mingle with Baxter and Hewson 6. The stars in their courses have routed our horses And made our King-murtherers Martyrs They are forc'd to yield the fort and the field Whilst Ravens do beat up their quarters 7. Those zealots that dâ—d Baptisme forbid And likewise Godfathers deny'd Who raised a War in conclusion they are Themselves by twelve God-fathers try'd 8. Then let the Bells ring and pray for the king Let every one practise Obedience And let them all starve who will not observe And take the good Oath of Allegiance A Catch Royal 1641. LEt the Drawer run down We 'l sit and drink the Sun down Here 's a jolly Health to the King Let him be confounded And hang'd up for a Roundhead That will not pledge me a spring Next to the Lady Mary This beer-bowl of Canary I 'le pledg't a Carouse were it ten When Charles his thoughts are eased And his great heart appeased We 'l drink the Sun up agen The Change After the Death of Oliver November 3. 1659. The Air compos'd by Mr. Lock 1. TO what Idol now Must our hallowed ham-strings bow The devil and we Can never agree We know not to who or how Religion and Laws Are crucified by his paws Our liberty Is routed truly And so is the good old Cause The Rule of Right Hath bid us good night 'T is Power is the onely Prevailer We dare not be known To ask for our own For fear of Gibbet and Goaler For King we went And Parliament By gunning to get them together But now well a day They are gunn'd quite away And we must be govern'd by neither 2. Old Noll's Noddle now Were he living would tell us how The Camp and Crown The Gun and the Gown Might quickly make one of two King Dick the third Or Harry with his broad sword Though men amiss Had taught us e're this To quarrel about a word Their Launce and Laws Had cudgell'd our Cause And made us submit to their Empire But Richard the fourth And Harry the ninth Are men of genteeler temper The Church and State Are governed by Fate 'T is Power hath the Peoples applauses Our Courts are too tall Our Lawyers must fall The Sword 's the best splitter of Causes 3. 'T is not Majesty Did make us to disagree 'T was an humble fire Blown up by desire To be but as high as he The Prelate and King Who caused our quarrelling Were much to blame We hated the Name But fain we would have the thing Our Drum our Gun Our Copper and Tun Which newly of so much renown is Can fitly declare What spirits we are And what a bright Idol a Crown is But now let 's cast What 's left us at last By Presbyter