would travel here might know The little World in Folio The Schismatick ONce I a curious Eye did fix To observe the Tricks Of the Schismaticks of the Times Viewing which of them spoke the merriest Theme And best would befit my Rhimes Arminians I found solid Socinian were stolid But the Papist for Learning doth stickle Ha ha ha Rotundus Rotundus 't is you that my Spleen doth tickle 2. Next to tell you must not be forgot How I did trot With a great Zealot to a Lecture Where I a Tub did view Hung with an Apron blew 'T was the Preacher's I conjecture His Use and Doctrine too Was of no better Hue Though taught with a tone most mickle Ha ha ha c. 3. He talkt among other pretty things That the Book of Kings Small Comfort brings To the Godly Besides he had some Grudges Against the Book of Iudges And talkt of Leviticus odly But Wisdom most of all He held Apochryphal Great Bell and the Dragon like Michael His Preaching like himself was but fickle Ha ha ha c. 5. 'Gainst Humane Learning he next inveighs And he boldly says It is that which decays Inspiration Those that Preferment merit Are not like to wear it In hopes of Reformation Cut Bishops down in haste And Cathedrals as fast As Corn that is fit for the Sickle Ha ha ha c. 5. I heard of one did touch He did tell as much Of one that would not crouch At Communion Who thrusting up his Hand Never made a Stand Till he came where her f had Union She without all Terror Thought it no Error But did laugh till the Tears down did trickle Ha ha ha Rotundus Rotundus 't is you that my Spleen doth tickle A Sermon HEarken I beseech you with Fear and Reverence to these Words as you may perhaps find them written in the Apocrypha the Chapter and Verse you may find out at your Leisure the Words to my best Remembrance are these A Carpenter took his Ax and hewed the Root of the Tree which because it brought not forth good Fruit it was instantly thrown into the Fire Beloved instantly is certainly the Axe instrumentally hewing orderly struck against the Root effectually of the Tree particularly of that Tree impartially because it brought not forth put all together my Beloved because it brought not forth good Fruit instantly effectually particularly instrumentally orderly proportionally impartially it is inevitably and fatally to be cast irresistably into the Fire Everlastingly and so of these and of all these as the time shall permit but the Glass it out and so am I. A Zealous Discourse between the Person of the Parish and Tabitha Parson HAil Sister to your snowy Breast The Word permitteth us to jeast Now Sermon 's done nor should you be Stiff-necked to the Ministry As you may read it more at large In Dod's Commandments or my Charge Last Sabbath in my Catechism Wherein we prove they make a Schism Who do deny us in the Night To strengthen you by Candle-light And truly might my Reasons be But wav'd according to the Grand Committee For Reformation I would prove That we out of sincere Love Our devout Spouses Room might take Each Sabbath for Repetition Sake And verily of late 't is se'd More Eyes have opened from the Bed Than from the Pulpit and we there Can sooner teach you how to bear Tabitha In Truth I know not what to say Replies this zealous Tabitha But on those Nights I you assure Our Husbands are too too impure And clog our Consciences too high With Seed that doth not fructifie As you may read Ruth where 's my Book It is in Matthew Mark Iohn or Luke But would it not a scandal be Unto the New Presbytery Parson No For all things must be done You know for Edification Which is no more in English than The building up of Faithful Woman Tab. But hold do these same Words proceed From the Beast's Language then indeed Sure the Scotch or Geneva Print Hath no such Rags of Babel in 't Nay fie Good Sir what do you mean In troth your Hand is too obscene Evil Requests must be deny'd Let go my Placket's on my side Why look you now I pray be calm The Spirit moves to sing a Psalm The Hymn The Post that came from Banbury Riding in a Blew Rocket He swore he saw when Lunsford fell A Childs Arm in his Pocket Parson I think I hear your Husband pray Listen hark so and then why may Not a Sister or a Brother Engender Grace in one another Tab. You preacht against it Sir Par. I so I must Where it is only done for Lust But I protest 't is Zeal indeed To propagate the Holy Seed That moves me Tab. And indeed said she I feel that self same Prick of Zeal in me As it were thrusting me on still Therefore Good Sir ev'n do what you will Why look you now what Hurt 's in this I 'll feal it with a Holy Kiss And e'er your Husband say Amen I 'll do this great Work twice agen Tabitha Sir make haste to rise 'T is for my Evening Exercise It will be Supper time I doubt E'er I shall read my Chapter out Besides alas Oh! How do I Forget my Practice of Piety Pray rectifie my Gorget smooth my Whisk that our zealous Conflict may not be discerned by the Reprobate the Children of Wrath Firebrands of Hell and Heirs to Destruction On O. P. sick YIeld Periwig'd Impostor yield to Fate Religious Whisler Mountebank of Fate Down to the low'st Abyss the blackest Shade That Night dares own that so the Earth thou 'st made Loathsom by thousand Barbarisms may be Deliver'd from Heavens Vengeance and from thee The reeking Steam of thy fresh Villanies Would spot the Stars and menstruate the Skies Force them to break the League they 've made with Men And with a Flood rinse the foul World agen Thy Bays are tarnish'd with thy Cruelties Rebellions Sacriledge and Perjuries Descend descend thou vailed Devil fall Thou subtle Blood-sucker thou Cannibal Thy Arts are catching cozen Satan too Thou hast a trick more than he ever knew He ne'er was Atheist yet perswade him to 't The Schismaticks will back thee Horse and Foot An Answer to the Storm 'T Is well he 's gone O had he never been Hurry'd in Storms loud as his crying Sin The Pines and Oaks fell prostrate at his Urn That with his Fame his 〈◊〉 Winds pluck up Roots and fixed Cedars move Roaring for Vengeance to the Heavens above From Theft like his great Romulus did grow And such a Wind did at his Ruin blow Strange that the lofty Trees themselves should fell Without the Axe so Orpheus went to Hell At whose Descent the stoutest Rocks were cleft And the whole Wood its wonted Station left In Battle Hercules wore the Lions Skin But our fierce Nero wore the Beast within Whose Heart was brutish more than Face or Eyes And in the Shape of Man was in
Se-Cvre CHARLES ah forbear forbear lest Mortals prize His name too dearly and Idolatrize His Name Our Loss Thrice cursed and forlorn Be that Black Night which usher'd in this Morn CHARLES our Dread Soveraign hold lest Out-law'd Sense Bribe and seduce tame Reason to dispense With those Celestial powers and distrust Heav'n can behold such Treason and prove Just. CHARLES our Dread Soveraign's murther'd tremble and View what Convulsions shoulder-shake this Land Court City Country nay three Kingdoms run To their last Stage and set with him their Sun CHARLES our Dread Soveraign's murther'd at His Gate Fell fiends dire Hydra's of a stiff-neck'd State Strange Body-politick Whose Members spread And Monster-like swell bigger then their HEAD CHARLES of Great Britain He who was the known King of three Realms lies murther'd in his own He He Who liv'd and Faith's Defender stood Dy'd here to re-Baptize it in his bloud No more no more Fame's Trump shall eccho all The rest in dreadful Thunder Such a Fall Great Christendom ne'er pattern'd and 't was strange Earth's Center reel'd not at this dismal Change The blow struck Brittain blind each well-set Limb By dislocation was lopt off in HIM And though she yet live's she live's but to condole Three Bleeding Bodies left without a Soul Religion put 's on Black sad Loyalty Blushes and mourns to see bright Majesty Butchered by such Assassinates nay both 'Gainst God 'gainst Law Allegiance and their Oath Farewell sad Isle Farewell thy fatal Glory Is Sum'd Cast up and Cancell'd in this Story AN ELEGY Upon King CHARLES the First murthered publickly by his Subjects WEre not my Faith buoy'd up by sacred blood It might be drown'd in this prodigious flood Which Reasons highest ground do so exceed It leaves my Soul no Anch'rage but my Creed Where my Faith resting on th' Original Supports it self in this the Copies fall So while my Faith floats on that Bloody wood My Reason's cast away in this Red flood Which ne'er o'reflows us all Those Showers past Made but Land-floods which did some Vallies wast This stroke hath cut the only Neck of Land Which between us and this Red Sea did stand That covers now our World which Cursed lies At once with two of Egypts Prodigies O'er-cast with Darkness and with bloud o'er-run And justly since our hearts have theirs outdone Th'lnchanter led them to a less known ill To act his sin then 't was their King to kill Which Crime hath widowed our whole Nation Voided all Forms left but Privation In Church and State inverting ev'ry Right Brought in Hells State of fire without Light No wonder then if all good eyes look red Washing their Loyal hearts from blood so shed The which deserves each pore should turn an eye To weep out even a bloody Agoâ—…y Let nought then pass for Musick but sad Cries For Beauty bloudless Cheeks and blood-shot Eyes All Colours soil but black all Odours have Ill scent but Myrrh incens'd upon this Grave It notes a Iew not to believe us much The cleaner made by a religious Touch Of their Dead Body whom to judge to dye Seems the Judaical Impiety To kill the King the Spirit Legion paints His rage with Law the Temple and the Saints But the truth is He fear'd and did repine To be cast out and back into the Swine And the case holds in that the Spirit bends His malice in this Act against his ends For it is like the sooner he 'll be sent Out of that body He would still torment Let Christians then use otherwise this blood Detest the Act yet turn it to their good Thinking how like a King of Death He dies We easily may the World and Death despise Death had no Sting for him and its sharp Arm Only of all the Troop meant him no harm And so he look'd upon the Axe as one Weapon yet left to guard him to his Throne In His great Name then may His Subjects cry Death thou art swallowed up in Victory If this our loss a comfort can admit 'T is that his narrow'd Crown is grown unfit For his enlarged Head since his distress Had greatned this as it made that the less His Crown was fallen unto too low a thing For him who was become so great a King So the same hands enthron'd him in that Crown They had exalted from him not pull'd down And thus God's Truth by them hath rendred more Than ere Mens falshood promis'd to restore Which since by death alone he could attain Was yet exempt from Weakness and from Pain Death was enjoyn'd by God to touch a part Might make his Passage quick ne'er move his heart Which ev'n expiring was so far from death It seem'd but to command away his Breath And thus his Soul of this her Triumph proud Broke like a flash of Lightning through the Cloud Of Flesh and Blood and from the highest Line Of Humane Vertue pass'd to be Divine Nor is 't much less his Virtues to relate Than the high Glories of his present State Since both then pass all Acts but of Belief Silence may praise the one the other Grief And since upon the Diamond no less Than Diamonds will serve us to impress â—…'ll only wish that for his Elegy This our Iosias had a Ieremy AN ELEGY â—…n The best of Men The meekest of Martyrs CHARLES the I. c. DOes not the Sun call in his Light and Day Like a thin Exhalation melt away â—…oth wrapping up their Beams in Clouds to be Themselves close Mourners at the Obsequie â—…f this Great Monarch does his Royal Blood Which th' Earth late drunk in so profuse a Flood Not shoot through her affrightned Womb and makâ—… All her convulsed Arteries to shake So long till all those â—…hinges that sustain Like Nerves the frame of Nature shrink again Into a shuffled Chaos Does the Sun Not suck it from its liquid Mansion And Still it into vap'rous Clouds which may Themselves in hearded Meteors display Whose shaggy and disheveld Beams may be The Tapers at this black Solemnity You Seed of Marble in the Womb accurst Rock'd by some Storm or by some Tigress nurst Fed by some Plague which in blind mists was hurl'd To strew infection on the tainted World What Fury charm'd your hands to act a deed Tyrants to think on would not weep but bleed And Rocks by Instinct so resent this Fact They 'ld into Springs of easie tears be slack'd Say Sons of Tumult since you think it good Still to keep up the Trade and Bath in Bloud Your guilty hands why did you not then State Your Slaughters at some cheap and common rate Your gluttonous and lavish Blades might have Devoted Myriads to one publick Grave And lop'd off thousands of some base allay Whilst the same Sexton that inter'd their Clay In the same Urn their Names too might intomb But when on him you fixt your fatal Doom You gave a Blow to Nature since even all The Stock of Man now bleeds too in his
confess There 's nought to plead against them but Success Malignant Loyalty A glorious Fame And Sin for which God never found a Name Which had it scaped the Rubrick of these times Had still continu'd among Holy Crimes A Text on which we find no Gloss at all But in the Alcoran of Gold-smiths Hall Now Great Adolphus give me leave to 〈◊〉 The Ashes of thy Urn and Sepulcâ—…re And branch the Flowers of the Swedish Glory As rivall'd to the Life in our sad Story Yet not impair thy Plumes by adding more To suit that Splendor from a Neighbour Shore Nor deem thy Honour less thus match'd to be If Compton dyed to grasping Victory An active Soul in Gallant Fâ—…y hurl'd To club with all the Worthies of the World Blind Envious piping Fortune What could be The tottering Ground of this thy Treachery To stop the Ballance of that brave Carrear Was both at once thy Miracle and Fear Was 't not a pannick Dread surpriz'd thy Soul Of being made servile to his high Controul Blush and confess poor Caiâ—… goddess So Wee 'l quit his in thy real Overthrow And Death thon Worm Thou pale Assassinate Thou sneaking Hireling of Revenge and Hate Didst not thou feel an Earth-quake in thy Bones Such as rends Rocks and their Foundations No Tâ—…tian shivering but an Agâ—… fit Which with a burning Feaver shall commit The World to Ashes When thou stol'st crept'st under That Helmet which durst dare Iove and his Thunder But since the Bays he reacht at grew not here Like a wise Souldier and a Cavalier He left his covetous Enemy at Bay Rifling the Carriage of his Flesh and Clay While his rich Soul pursued the greater Game Of Honour to the Skies there fiâ—…'d his Name I shall not therefore vex the Oâ—… to trace Thy Sacred Foot-steps in that hallow'd Place Noâ—… start a feigned Star and swear it thine Then stretch the Constellation to thy Line Like a Welch Gentleman that tacks hiâ—… Kin To all Coatâ—… in the Country he lives in Nor yet to raise thy Flaming Crest shall I Knock for the wandring Planets in the Sky Perhaps some broken Beauty of staâ—…e Doubt To comment on her Face has hir'd them out Let Fame and thy brave Race thy Statue live The World can never such another give Whiles each Soul sighs at the isâ—…d thought of thee There fell a Province of Nobility A Fall 〈◊〉 Zeal but husbanded its Throat That sunk the House of Lords and sav'd the Vote They only State mâ—…e Titles in their Gears He singly represented all the Peers One had the Enemy imploy'd their Smeck â—…hose Ring-worms of the Church to beg a Neck With Claudius to metropolize all Worth â—…ome and what e'er the Suburb-world brought forth 〈◊〉 him the Sword did glut its ravening Eye â—…he rest that kick'd up were the smaller Fry â—…parks only of that Fire in him deceas'd â—…yfles that crack'd and vanish'd North and West He led the Royal War in such a Dye â—…n that dire Entrance of the Tragedy The Sense Great Charles no longer to prorogue â—…one but thy self could speak the Epilogue The London Lady GEntly my Muse 't is but a tender Piece A Paradox of Fumes and Ambergreece 〈◊〉 Cobweb-tinder at a touch takes Fire The tumbling Whirligig of blind Desire â—…ulcan's Pandora in a Crystal Shrine Or th' old Inn fac'd with a new painted Sign The spotted Voyder of the Term In short Chymical Nature physick'd into Art But hold rude Satyr here 's a Hector comes A Cod-piece Captain that with her shares Sums One claims a Joynture in her Sins the Foil That puts her off like the Old Man ere while That with a Dagger-Cloak and ho-boy gapes And squeeks for Company for the Iack-an-Apes This is the fierce St. George foreruns the Wagon And if occasion be shall kill the Dragon Don Mars the great Ascendant on the Road When Thomas's teem begins to jog abroad The hinter at each turn of Covent Garden The Câ—…-Pickeerer the robust Church warden Of Lincoln's Inn back-corner where he angles For Cloaks and Hats and the small Game entangles This is the City Usher stray'd to enter The small Drink Country Squires of the first venter And dubs them batch'lor-Knight of the black Jugg Mans them into an Oath and the French Shrugg Make 's them fine Graduates in Smock-impudence And gelds them of their Puny Mothers Sence So that when two Terms more and forty Pound Reads them acquainted all Gomorrha round Down to their wondring Friends at last they range With breeding just enough to speak them strange And drown a younger Brother in a Look Kick a poor Lacquey and berogue the Cook Top a small Cry of Tenants that dare stir In no Phrase now but save your Worship Sir But to return By this my Lady 's up Has swum the Ocean of the Cawdle-Cup Convers'd with every washing every Ground And Fucus in the Cabinet's to be found Has laid the fix'd Complexion for the Day Ber Breech rings High Change and she must away Now down the Channel towards the Strand the glides Flinging her â—…mble Glances on both sides Like the Death-darting Cockatrice that slye Close Engineer that murders through the Eye The first that 's tickled with her rumbling Wheels Is the old Statesman that in Slippers reels He wire draws up his Jaws and snuffs and griâ—…s And sighing smacks but for my Aged Shins My Conâ—…ve of Diseases I would boord Your lofty Gally Thus I serv'd my Lord But mum for that his strength will scarce supply His Back to the Balcona so God b'wy By this she has survey'd the golden Globe And finding no Temptation to disrobe To Durham New Old Stable on she packs Where having winc'd and breath'd the what'd ye lacks â—…usled and bounced a turn or two in Ire â—…he mounts the Coach like Phaeton all on Fire â—…it for th'Impressions of all sorts of Evil â—…nd whirls up tow'rds the Lawyers and the Devil There Ployden in his laced Ruff starch'd on Edg â—…eeps like an Adder through a quick-set Hedge And brings his stale Demur to stop the Course Of her Proceedings with her Yoak of Horse Then falls to handling of the Case and so â—…hews her the Posture of her Over-throw But yet for all his Law and double Fees Shee 'l bring him to joyn Issue on his Knees And make him pay for Expedition too Thus the gray Fox acts his green Sins anew And well he scapes if all his Norman Sense Can save the burning of his Evidence But out at last shee 's huddled in the dark Man'd like a Lady-Client by the Clerk And so the nimble Youngster at the parting Extorts a Smack perhaps before the Carting Down Fleet-street next she rowls with powdred Crest â—…o spring clip'd-half-crowns in the Cuckow 's Nest. For now the Heroes of the Yard have shut Their Shops and loll upon their Bulks to put The Ladies to the Squeek if so perhaps Their Mistresses can spare them from their Laps â—…ot far she waves
〈◊〉 Lover yet make none Idolater The moderate Value of our guiltless Oar Makes no Man Atheist nor no Woman Whore Yet why should hallow'd Vestals sacred Shrine Deserve more Honour than a flaming Mine These pregnant Wombs of Heat would fitter be Than a few Embers for a Deity Had he our Pits the Persian would admire No Sun but warm's Devotion at our Fire He 'd leave the trotting Whipster and prefer Our profound Vulcan'bove that Wagoner For wants he heat Or Light or would have Store Or both 'T is here And what can Suns give more Nay what 's the Sun but in a different Name A Coal-pit rampant or a Mine on Flame Then let this Truth reciprocally run The Sun's Heaven's Coalery and Coals our Sun A Sun that scorcheth not lockt up i'th'Deep The Lyons chain'd the Bandog is asleep That Tyrant Fire which uncontroul'd doth rage Here 's calm and husht like Bajazet i'th'Cage For in each Coal-pit there doth couchant dwell A muzzled Aetna or an innocent Hell Kindle the Cloud you 'll Lightning then descry Then will a Day break from the gloomy Sky Then you 'll unbottom though December blow And sweat i'th'midst of Isicles and Snow The Dog-days then at Christmas Thus is all The Year made Iune and Equinoctial If Heat offends our Pits affords us Shade Thus Summer's Winter Winter's Summer made What need we baths What need we bower or grove A Coal-pit's both a Ventiduct and Stove Such Pits and Caves were Palaces of old Poor Inns God wot yet in an Age of Gold And what would now be thought a strange Design To build a House was then to undermine People liv'd under Ground and happy Dwellers Whose jovial Habitations were all Cellars These primitive Times were Innocent for then Man who turn'd after Fox made but his Den. But see a Fleet of Vitals trim and fine To court the rich Infanta of our Mine Hundreds of Grim Leanders do confront For this lov'd Hero the loud Hellespont 'T is an Armado Royal doth engage For some new Hellen with this Equipage Prepared too should we their Addresses bar To force this Mistress with a ten years War But that our Mine's a common Good a Joy Made not to ruin but enrich our Troy But oh These bring it with them and conspire To pawn that Idol for our Smoke and Fire Silver 's but Ballast this they bring on Shore That they may treasure up our better Oar For this they venture Rocks and Storms defie All the Extremity of Sea and Sky For the glad Purchase of this precious Mold Cowards dare Pyrats Misers part with Gold Hence is it when the doubtful Ship sets forth The naving Needle still directs it North And Nature's secret Wonder to attest Our Indies Worth discards both East and West For Tine Not only Fire commends this Spring A Coal-pit is a Mine of every thing We sink a Jack of all Trades shop and sound An inverse Burse an Exchange under Ground This Proteus Earth converts to what you 'll ha't Now you may wear 't to Silk now com't to Plate And what 's a Metamorphosis more dear Dissolve it and 't will turn to London Beer For whatsoe'er that gaudy City boast Each Month doth drive to our attractive Coast. We shall exhaust their Chamber and devour Their Treasure of Guild-Hall and Minto'th ' Tower Our Staiths their mortgag'd Streets will soon deride Blazon their Cornhill-stella share Cheapside Thus shall our Coal-pits Charity and Pity At distance undermine and fire the City Should we exact they 'd pawn their Wives and treat To swop those Coolers for our Soveraign Heat Bove Kisses and Embraces Fire controuls No Venus heightens like a Peck of Coals Medea was the Drug of some old Sire And Aesons Bath a lusty Sea-coal Fire Chimneys are old Mens Mistresses their Inns A modern Dalliance with their meazled Shins To all Defects a Coal-heap gives a Cure Gives Youth to Age and Raiment to the Poor Pride first wore Cloths Nature disdains Attire â—…he made us Naked 'cause she gave us Fire â—…ull Wharfs are Wardrobes and the Taylors Charm Belongs to th'Collier he must keep us warm The Quilted Alderman in all 's Array Finds but cold Comfort in a frosty Day Girt wrapt and muffled yet with all this Stir Scarce warm when smother'd in his drowsie Fur Not Proof against keen Winters Batteries Should he himself wear all 's own Liveries But Chil-blain under silver Spurs bewails And in embroidered Buck-skins blows his Nails Rich Meadows and full Crops are elsewhere found We can reap Harvest from our barren Ground The bald parcht Hills that circumscribe our Tine Are no less pregnant in their hungry Mine Their unfledg'd Tops so well content our Pallats We envy none their Nose-gays and their Sallats A gay rank Soil like a Young Gallant grows And spends it self that it may wear fine Cloths Whilst all its Worth is to it s Back confin'd Our Wear's plain Out-side but is richly lin'd Winters above 't is Summer underneath A trusty Morglay in a rusty Sheath As precious Sables sometimes interlace A wretched Serge or Grogane Cassock Case Rocks own no Spring are pregnant with noShow'rs Chrystals and Gems are there instead of Flowers Instead of Roses Beds of Rubies sweet And Emeraulds recompence the Violet Dame Nature not like other Madams wears Where she is bare Pearls in her Breasts and Ears What though our Fields present a naked Sight A Paradise should be an Adamite The Northern Lad his bonny Lass throws doâ—… And gives her a black Bag for a green Gown On the Inundation of the River Trent The Scene Mascham and Holm two opposite Villages on the River side near Newark WHen Heirs and Widows hoard up fresh supplies Bottle up Tears wrung from St. Swithins Eyes And the Hydropick Planets empty all Their Experiments into their Urinal With Levies of Auxilliaries sent From lesser Rivers to rendezvouz in Trent It makes an Insurrection and to pillage Quarters its Rebel-Forces in each Village All objects the Inundation spreads so far Like the Eye but aggregates of Waters are In this Deucalion Wrack let me intreat Parnassus for to be my Ararat And pump a while before the Flood be gone What So much Water and no Helicon Swans sing and dye so Poets Floods inspire These glib Hydriaclicks Water is their Fire Come Neighbours let 's condole what will betide us Mascham and Holm or Cestus and Abidos The jealous River now no more will pander Between our Heroes and the lov'd Leander Help Xerxes Help Now Hellespont disdains Its Fetters see it 's loose and we in Chains Took Prisoners and our Durance such will be When Land appears a Goal-delivery Newgate or Woodstreet's not a closer Stay Rocks but immure them there and us the Sea And what 's the Difference pray Resolve us what Betwixt a Counter and a Water-Rat We must confess confin'd to Boats and Waves There 's No Captivity to Gally-Slaves And though we hear no Storms nor Billows roar We cannot
which the sturdy brave Commons must starve themselves to cram Nothing could be good which was great nothing but Independency was Divine He bids them consider now was the time appointed them by God to cast off the Yoak that if they would not be wanting to themselves they should assert their long-looked for Liberty and like good Husbandmen who love their Field pluck up the Weeds which over-run it which signified rooting out the Wicked and those who carried the Mark of the Beast He points them out the Heads devoted destined for Slaughter The House of Lords the Peers as yet they speak no higher whom he would have brought to Repentance Then the Lawyers Justices Judges Jury-men all the Enemies of the Commonalty were to be swept from the Earth there could not else so he concludes be any Peace or Security for the Future lopping off the Heads of those which were too tall which over-topped too much equal Nobility equal Liberty Dignity and Power this was his old Doctrine were the only Antidotes without which the poysoned Common-wealth must perish Whosoever loved not the Cause was a Reprobate hateful to God and damned Body and Soul Iohn concludes with an Exhortation that in Order to the Security and Preservation of Religion and Liberty of the Subject they will never consent to the laying down of Arms so long as the evil Counsellors and Prelates arming or in open War shall by Force of Arms be protected against the Iustice of the Commons John adds of long time there hath been and now is a Traiterous Plot for the Subversion of us and the Liberty of the Subject No Wonder when Peter the Hermits Goose was believed to be the Holy Ghost that Iohn amongst as very Ninnyhammers could strike up for a Prophet The base Crew prick up their Ears and wonder at the new Truths which their Pastor held forth they applaud him he is Archbishop elect and Chancellor the true Arch-bishop must be called a Traitor a Traitor of the Commons and the Realm to make him Room is voted so to be apprehended wheresoever he could be found in England and his Head to be cut off Here was a new Treason and a new Way of Tryal and Sentence But though Baal had more of the Spirit there were other Adventurers not to be robbed of their Honours other Worthies precious Men called to do the Work of the Lord who put to their Hands and brought Trowels and Mortar toward the raising this Babel Iack Straw another Priest full of Life and Vigour the Confessor and Bosom-chaplain of Tyler more inward with him his special Councellor acquainted with all his Plots in the Contrivance of which he had a great part bestowed his Pains upon the Cause and for Action next Tyler the Idol carried the Name which may be one Cause why Polydore kills him in Tylers stead with the Mayors Sword the most Eminent Sticklers of the Laity of the profane Stie where Wat the Tyler a Tyler by Trade not by Name his Name was Helier an ungracious Patron as Froissart was King of the Ribaulds The Idol of the Kentish Clowns Iohn Kirkby Alan Treder Thomas Scot and Ralph Rugg a Magnifico who gave freely away amongst his Fellow Scoundrels the Spoils of his Conquests were Princes of the Separation of the Tribes in Kent and Essex Robert Westbrome Wraw his Chaplain refusing to set Crown upon Crown and contented to be the Arch-priest of the Province was King of Suffolk and the Parts adjacent St. Edmunds-bury once the Palace of the East-Angle Kings and Milden-hall were the Seats of his Soveraignty Iohn Litstar a Tanner usurps the Name and Power of a King at Northwalsham in Norfolk I may say the Power and more never was any English King so Absolute nor can any just and legal Principality be so large and Arbitrary Law of the Land with which the old Englishman was free enough and contented was here to be thrown out of Doors The Heptarchy of the Saxons seemed to revive again but prodigiously the Blaze of these Comets must have been fatal to the Nation To keep an Order in the History of these Ruffians who abhorred it I will give the Van to the Idol of the Clowns it is due to him he is the first who lists up his Head in the Confusion among the Brethren and deserves the first Chair He was the Dragon and no question in the Conclusion had swallowed up or clipped the rest Litster Westbrome and the others merited highly but they must have been taken down some Pins Tyler must have Elbow-room he must have been Lord Paramount and one such Comeâ—… would have been more than enough for one Horizon Besides Kent and Essex were the Puddle the Lerna which bred this Hydra with the many Heads which poysoned most of the Counties and in the Conjunction of these two Provinces Tyler the Idol swayed all And here I must observe this that however Walsingham hatches the Cause in Essex yet his own Relations of Baal and the Letters and Sermons of this seducing Prophet bring this into question and by him if Kent be not the Mother yet are the Treasons of her and Essex Sister-twins of the same Birth Essex only started first The Fire kindled from a small Spark The Clowns of two Villages not named in the Chronicles contrive the Conspiracy there They send Warrants to the smaller Towns about and rather command than intreat all Men of what Age soever without any Stay or Deliberation to repair to a Rendezvouz set down The Conclusion was terrible It threatning plundering of Goods Burning plucking down Houses and cutting off the Heads of those who disobey the present Power The summoned Villages are frighted into Obedience which is to rebel They leave their Ploughs their Fields their Wives and Farms and in their first Rising no less than 5000 of the sink of the People meet ill armed some with Staves some with rusty Swords some with Bows and featherless Arrows few knowing any Cause of their assembling gazing upon one another and of not finding any Enemies of their own Peace and Good but themselves Not one of a thousand was provided like a Souldier but their Number supplyed all things they were highly conceited of themselves and believed they were invincible not to be resisted To confirm their Steps Baal watching to catch who had long waited for such an Opportunity of Imbroiling drives them Head-long forward he writes to them his Letters exhortatory where to consecrate the Enterprise Gods Name is brought in He is made to own the Cause composed of a Jargon a canting Gibridge fit for the Design to abuse and cheat the Innocent Peasant who cannot pry into things cannot look farther than the Bait fuller of Riddles than Sense one of them found in the Sleeve of one of these wretched Men condemned and under the Gallows was this John Schep sometimes St. Mary Priest in Yorkn and now of Colchester