Selected quad for the lemma: fire_n
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B03238
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An elegy on the much lamented Sir William Waller, who valiantly hang'd himself at Rotterdam.
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1683
(1683)
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Wing E430; Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.3[156]
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1,798
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1
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AN ELEGY On the much Lamented Sir WILLIAM WALLER Who Valiantly Hang'd Himself at Rotterdam RIse Grim Alecto rise 't is fit to chuse For Hellish matter an Infernal Muse Thou who at Fox Hall did'st Inspire those Sots Tongue Oates and Kirby to Contrive their Plots Who did'st through wondrous Labarinths of Ill Conduct Sir Godfrey safe to Primrose-Hill And by Mysterious Ways and Oaths most quaint Of an Old Faggot made us a Young Saint Plots thou canst make and marr Thou Stygian Whore Assist me once I 'll ne'r invoke thee more The Hell-born Dame Assents Her Head she shakes Pregnant of Plots and Pery wick'd with Snakes At her Right-Ear an Oates and Bedlow hung And at her Lest Prance Everard and Tongue Thus Gravely she Recounts what the Curs'd Else Sir Waller Confess'd e're he Hang'd himself Good Father Ferguson quoth He now I Do mean to make Confession Verily When willing Senators wisely were afraid Of Horrid Scare-crows they Temselves had made When Chappel of St. Stephen and Place of Peers Were overflow'd with sudden Floods of Fears When Easie Mortals stop'd their Ears and Eyes With Uncouth Tales and Incoherent Lyes When Knaves and Thieves and Cheats grew Rich by Plots I wisely Worship'd Bedlow and Great Oates Because I scarcely then was worth Ten Groats These my Right Worthy Patrons with great ease Soon made my Worship Justice of the Peace Arm'd with this Power as if I had a Charter To Rob and Spoil I gave no Mortal quarter Even Aged Matrons in my nightly Trade I Grop'd Such might be Priests in Masquerade My Skill herein was great I got the Start Of Brother Chamberlain in his own Art And with my Co-Adjutors at my Tail Gill Merry Jones Snow Chetwyn Prance Mansel In Obscure Holes and Lanes I Briskly Blunder'd And every Papist that I found I Plundr'd Even Protestants themselves scap'd not my Gynnes Though they were Guelphs their Goods were Gibellâ—ns John Gadbury's Maps and Globes were not Protected Such as I lik'd were Popishly Affected Now see me on a Steed more big by far Then that my Rebel Sire Bestrid in War Towards Tuthil-fields the way I do Traverse With a Rude Rout of Miscreants at my Arse To th' Fields we come Lo Parson Farringdon Like a Brave Knipperdolling Marches on With Hatt Erect on Cane 't was to seem Taller He Cryes I' th' Name of Gad a Waller a Waller As when to warn men to Bear-Garden Plays Exalted Pugg from 's Rosinant Surveys Attendant Crowds of Doggs Thieves Bums and Boyes Expressing in his Pleasant Face his Joys Like Pugg look'd I when Billing and his Blades Denuded their Dull Sullen Loggerheads Throwing their Everlasting Caps to th' Sky Bawling a Waller with a Full-mouth'd Cry Environ'd with my Rogues I bent my Course To Lady Dormer's where without Remorse Spoons Tankards Pictures Plates I took away Alas such Popish Trinkets were just Prey And after narrow Search like cunning Fox I seiz'd a Priest hid in a Pepper-Box The Priest to Newgate had his Mittimus The Box being Silver did belong to Us. Then in New-Pallace-yard of Westminster I most Couragiously did make a Fire And True-Dissenter like in zealous Scorn At Noon-day did my Saviours Picture Burn A worthy Prank of reformation-Reformation-work That out-does Father Jew and Brother Turk And tells the Christian World I durst Act what My Grand sire Pilate would have Blushed at With Gun I and my Knaves to th' Savoy came Like Skilful Thieves in Pikerings House we Roam Closets and Trunks we break one did unfold Full Fourscore Pieces of Egyptian Gold Good Quids quoth I my Brethren not a word All this is Ours we 're People of the Lord This Gun we Bought i' th' Minories ' tmust be laid And we must find 't out in Pikering's Bed Then Early in the Morning let 's repair To tell our Patriots at Westminster Not of the Fourscore Pounds we Stole in Gold That Pikering's Gun is Found and in Safe hold This Gun clos'd up in Feather-Bed so dark That Dextrous Gunner us'd in James's Park And if their Honours Vote to have 't laid by 'T will serve a Surer Marks-man with one Eye My Sancha-Pancha Prance and I in Lent A Journey took to Newark upon Trent To seize Old Beddingfield who like a Fop Forsook's quiet Grave to keep a Ribbon-Shop He was grown Young again say what ye will These Cunning Jesuits will be Jesuits still The Mayor and We Rob'd him of all his Things Two Spoons one Old Plate Horse Ribbons Gloves Rings But why should I my Mighty Deeds declare I 'll Hang my self now in this wild Despair Why do I Live Brave Anthony is gone And Essex with his Razor cryes Ah Hone Bold Walcot's Hang'd and close behind his Breech Stands Noble Russel making a True Speech All-killing Armstrong and Bold Gray are Fled Prince Monmouth Sneaks and dares not show his Head All 's Lost Go Ferguson get a Rope go go Here 's a Convenient Beam will serve Us Two Then at one Swing himself Sir Waller Hurl'd To 's Fellow-Traytors in the other World Printed by N. Y. at the Entrance into the Old-Spring-Garden 1683. * Rumbold