Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A55414
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Poor Robins dream, or, The Visions of hell with a dialogue between the two ghosts of Dr. T. and Capt. B.
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Poor Robin.; Winstanley, William, 1628?-1698.
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1681
(1681)
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Wing P2884; ESTC R30535
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4,447
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9
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POOR ROBINS DREAM OR THE VISIONS OF HELL WITH A DIALOGUE Between the Two GHOSTS OF Dr. T. and Capt. B. LONDON Printed by M.S. MDCLXXXI POOR ROBINS DREAM OR THE Visions of Hell WHen th'charming News had passed Charing-Cross And they depos'd that would dismount that Horse The Senators their hated patience forc't As Thames once for Sempronia stopt her course Like Boys that were just from a Vineyard skar'd All stood amaz'd but never a word was heard But when they found they were pursu'd by none But th' Master stood only to keep his own They then unto their wonted passion flew And swore they 'd prove those Grapes to be their due Next time they came they 'd have the Master too I' th City All their steady-Heads they tost Like Wives at Billingsgate when a good Bargain 's lost Ballads of grief about the Town they sent As if they lost a Loyal Parliament Such clam'rous Consternations with false Cryes Enough to tear great Jove down from the Skies None daring to confront those Factious Atheists Dreading that scand'lous Name they call Church-Papist Then I e'ne laid me down upon my Bed Where sundry Contemplations seiz'd my troubled Head In a trembling Trance I on a sudden fell Wherein I saw that damned Den call'd Hell Where ten thousand Scenes with Legions of black Fiends Of burning Rebels there they made their Skreens Old Noll and Bradshaw Ireton and Pride Burning like Beacons on the other side Then perjur'd Rogues drawn up in arched Rings Their Tongues like Serpents shew'd their flaming Stings Thought I Is this the fruit of killing Kings When that Scene chang'd methought I clearly saw A solemn Conventicle groan out yells of woe Their Hats pinn'd to their heads with fiery Nails Their Ears drawn out as large as Spanish Frails Their Eyes like oval Lanthorns glowing Rouls Or flaming Flambois from their treach'rous Souls Their Mouths unto their ugly Ears were drawn Spirits froth'd out like poyson'd foul Frog-spawn Upon their Backs was writ in bloud I see Damn'd for Rebellion and Hypocrisie ' Mongst this prodigious and confused throng The Holder forth was called Dr. Tonge Who so excell'd Hugh Peters being there That he was forc'd to fall into the Rear Till interposed by a Champion stout With flaming Sword made way through th' hellish Rout. B. And cry'd to T. thou damned Orator Thou art the cause of my Soul burning here T. Why what wast thou when first I did thee know But one condemn'd for Robbery by the Law B. Why what wast thou poor Fool in Forty one But a poor Weaver then leapt from thy Loom Then stept into a Tub to preach Sedition And took the Covenant for thy Commission Which thou pursu'd till all the Rump was ruin'd And Charles return'd and to his Right resum'd And then thou made a Breech of thy own Mouth Swore back again but never preached truth And in thy Age more treach'rous than in youth T. That cannot be imputed perjury To swear for those that rule by tyranny Or for any else as Times may turn by fits That 's but a knack of living by ones wits But I ne're rob'd upon the King's High-way Nor boasted on 't unto my Friends next day Nor I ne're feign'd my self to be a Lord Nor pilfer'd Coyn without the help of Sword Nor ne're was proved perjur'd by Record B. Thou damned Hell-hound hast thou now forgot Who was so active in the Popish Plot 'T was thou that patcht up O's Depositions And then deliver'd them without Commissions Which thou taught him pretend he had disperst Then thou thy self turn'd tails and was releast Yet still thou didst persevere in thy sin Taught Tony and the rest to bring me in To meet you at Cabals and Foxes-hall Where I receiv'd my Lessons from you all You taught me what to speak who to impeach All Loyallists you brought within my reach Both Queen and Duke I to the Block must bring Nay had I liv'd I must have peacht the K Now who 's the cause of my Soul's suffering T. All this I own was truth and ten times more But thy black Soul was damned long before Thou hadst committed Murther Theft and Rape So 't was impossible thy Soul shou'd ' scape For hadst thou liv'd till each true string had twang'd Thou then hadst surely been both damn'd and hang'd B. Thou splay-mouth'd Fiend I hold thy words in scorn Thou deserv'dst hanging long e're I was born Thou and thy Brother Baxter Spawns of evil Who kept your correspondence with the Devil And spew'd your poyson over Three brave Nations And brought in Oates to all their desolations The Devil taught you how to tutor Cooper And Belzebub himself his Over-looker One Paw upon the Tap holds in the Bong The other guides his tottering Head and Tongue And cryes My Tony thou shalt live to see Englands destruction and its Monarchy And my chief Engine Tony thou shalt be And of all the Plots and Sham-plots thou art Father And all the Evidence thou 'st patcht together For which Indulgence I 'le inspire thee still And thus the Devil helps old Machiavel T. Why Tony was the cause of my Damnation It was his malice that enflam'd the Nation 'T was He under pretence of doing good That squeez'd poor Innocents and broacht their bloud 'T was He that made his Grace a stalking Horse And hid himself behind his pocky Arse 'T was he that taught Tub-Preachers to seduce The People to choose Members for their use Such as in the late Rebellion play'd their parts And now are downright Rumpers in their hearts To all the Olivarians that are living His damned Documents he 's daily giving 'T is He that all the Rebels now controuls For fear they should repent and save their souls Or rather that they may come boldly on By force of Arms to end what he begun Or else his Head must fly for what is past And 's Tap must burst to shew his soul is curst B. For Godfrey's death 't was thou perswaded me To come in guilty that black Perjury Doth gnaw my soul in these infernal flames That guiltless bloud cryes vengeance through my veins And showrs upon me in perpetual streams I swore that of that Murther I did know A man that in my life I never saw Yet three mens Lives I took by perjur'd Law T. Tony and Godfrey's Brother that contriv'd To make the forged Plot the more believ'd The truth of which they never yet would tell Neither Oates nor us that 's now in Hell If e're that stifled Murther be unvail'd Old Tony's mouthing Gang will soon be quail'd And those Cabals which daily now devise As th' old one dyes to make new Plots to rise They 'l then disperse lest they all be trapann'd And their wise heads forsake their souls that's damn'd B. Thou now speak'st like a Subject when't's too late Or one that knew not what they would be at 'T is their ambition to be thrown in Gaols 'T would raise the Rout