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A52770
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The true character of a rigid Presbyter with a narrative of the dangerous designes of the English and Scotish covenanters as they have tended to the ruine of our Church and Kingdom : also the articles of their dogmatic faith and the inconsistency thereof with monarchy : to which is added a short history of the English rebellion / compiled in verse by Marchamont Nedham; and formerly extant in his Mercurius pragmaticus.
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Nedham, Marchamont, 1620-1678.
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1661
(1661)
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Wing N406; ESTC R29555
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36,798
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96
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Gospel to the Jews To Turks that Mahomet's a Knave Platonick Love to Stews Let Citizens loath sacred things Presbyters pride and ease When these are done make Saints love Kings And then we may have Peace See in what glory Charles now sits With Truth to conquer Treason And prove he is the King of Wits The World Himself and Reason Angels bear witness GOD looks down The Graces too attend Sure none but Devils then will frown Upon a blessed end Ten hundred thousand Loyal Hearts All bleeding at his Fate As many Wishes from all parts Flie round his Chair of State Come then ye dirty Sainted Elves Worse then Church-window paint By this fair Glass abhor your selves Learn here to be a Saint The King the four great Bills must pass And none but Saints be free Th' Irish and Cavaliers alas Must th' onely Rebels be New Lords new Laws new Saints are we Religion's in fine pickle When 't is resolv'd the Church shall be A three-years Conventicle Militia too they needs must gain Those pretty carnal Tools For Pauls old Weapons they disdain As fit for none but Fools Thus Royally Charles lets to Lease Lays Sword and Scepter down To shew he values Us and Peace Above a glorious Crown Give me the Dragons Gall for Ink His sting to be my Pen To blast the Scot and make him stink Werse then the Dregs of men See now the Reformation-Wirk For which they made us bleed Is to cashire King Church and Kirk On this and that side I weed Let them with Egypts plagues be crost Yet still find new and worse And since I have Jobs patience lost Give me his skill to curse At Home and Hell may they e'er dwell And for quick passage thither As they have juggled all full well So may they hang together Let me be Turk or any thing But a Scotch Calvinist First he damn'd Bishops next his King Now he cashires his Christ Gude faith Sir they the Pulpit bang But let their Gospel down For the old Saviour needs must gang Now a new one's come to town The Saints whom once their mouths did curse Dear Brethren are and Friends Which proves their Zeal a Stalking-horse For Knavish-godly ends Then rail no more at Antichrist But learn ye to be â—…vil And since ye have King Cromwel kist Shake hands too with the Devil Since they have damn'd all Saints of old No new shall be for me Like Jews they worship Gods of Gold Their King they crucifie Were he the King of Kings his Crown Could not be safe from Foes Like Jesuites they no Gospel own But Murther and Depose Like Turks their Heav'n lies all in Sence In Wenches Tarts and Gelly No Hell they fear when parted hence They serve no God but Belly All this and more by Jove is true If they the Treaty cease To juggle with the Lev'lling Crew That cry No King No Peace No Lord no Knight no Gentleman For Honours now are Crimes The Saints will form us if they can All to the Frim'â—ive times Brave days when Adam was a King Without Crown Lands or Riches So stript of Royal Robes they 'll bring Great Charles to Fig-leave Breeches Princes with Plowmen rankt shall pass Ladies like the first Woman Must spin or else be turn'd to Grass Now all things are in common Thus Cov'nanting and Levelling Three Kingdoms have o'erthrown And made all fellows with their King A Foot-ball of the Crown Tell me thou Presbyterian Ass Why thou at first didst jar Thy peevish Plea No Bishops was The first ground of the War Next to thy shame thou didst combine With the Sectarian Routs Our Charles should be no King of thine Or but a King of Clouts Both King and Bishops thus exil'd The Saints not yet content Now with fresh flames of Zeal grow wild And cry No Parliament Well may we then this Maxime prove Treason no end can know But levels at the Gods above As well as those below Hark how for Peace the Kingdom groans That warr'd they knew not why Yeild then or else the very stones Will out against you cry For shame ye Bastard-saints give o'er Or else the world will think Your Mother is great Babels Whore If blood you love to drink The State 's grown fat with Orphans Tears Whilst Widows pine and moan And tender Conscience in sev'n years Is turn'd t' a heart of stone Return hard hearts the Treaty ends Our breasts with Hope do swell Your Bags are full then let 's be friends Or bid the World Farewel No Gods above nor Gods below Our Saints I see will own Allegiance is Rebellion now Treason to wear a Crown Nor King nor Parliament will please 'T is Gospel to rebel Nay they 'll Remonstrate against Peace Be it in Heav'n or Hell Pluto beware to thee they come When here their work is done For they 'll break loose and beat up Drum And storm thee in thy Throne Then John-a-Leyden Nol and all Their goblin ghostly Train Brave Rebel-Saints triumphant shall Begin their second Reign Brave Reformation now I see London's a blessed place To find the Saints their Quarters free And nurse the Babes of grace Oh may they suck and drain them quite Whose thousands caus'd these Curses For the tame Slaves will never fight Till they have empty Purses Come then ye lowsie wanton Wags Of sainted Chevalry And free their poor condemned Bags That groan for Liberty March on boon Blades here 's store of Cash Their King they will not pity Then spur them on and soundly lash These Dull-men of the City Dull Cuckolds we are dainty Slaves And well may be content When thirty Fools and twenty Knaves Make up a Parliament They banish all men in their Wits Vote King Lords all Offenders And authorize the phrentick Fits Of our long-sword State-Menders 'T is Nol's own Brew-house now I swear The Speaker's but his Skinker Their Members are like th' Council of War Car-men Pedlers and Tinkers Fine Journey-Junto pretty Knack None such in all past Ages Shut shop for now the godly Pack Will next pay you your Wages Gone are those Golden Days of yore When Christmas was an High-day Whose sports we now shall see no more 'T is turn'd into Good-Friday Now when the King of Kings was born And did salvation bring They strive to crucifie in scorn His Vice-Roy and their King Since th' ancient Feast they have put down No new one will suffice But the choice Dainties of a Crown Princes in sacrifice No Powers are safe Treason 's a Tilt And the mad Sainted-Elves Boast when the Royal Blood is spilt They 'll all be Kings themselves Like jolly Slaves ye goodly Knaves We 'll bid th' old year Adieu Old Sack and things must pass away And so shall all your new Now for a No-King or a New For th' old they say shall pack The new may serve a year to view Like an old Almanack New Houses new for th' old ones dote And have been thrice made Plunder The Saints do vote and act by rote And are a Nine-days-wonder Then let us chear this merry New-year For Charles shall wear the Crown 'T is a damn'd Cause that damns the Laws And turns all up-side down FINIS
the peace of Government are reduceable to those heads Thus not intending hereby to reproach any person particularly whatsoever I have writ This but to lay open to the world how dangerous a Government this is not onely for Monarchy but for all Governments whatsoever and that our eyes being opened we may chuse rather to endure any torment temporary then to enter into this treacherous and damnable Covenant destructive to Religion King Church Peace of all and the liberty of the subject To swear to these things as established de jure divino and to put on poor people to act treason and rebellion making them believe they are Confessors and Martyrs If this gives the Reader any satisfaction I have what I desire If he doubt of the truth of anything I hope I am able to make all here good by faithful and autnentick Records or Testimony of such as are worthy of râ—ust God save his Church our King and Realm from this Scourge and give us Peace and Truth AMEN FINIS A SHORT HISTORY Of the English Rebellion Compiled in VERSE BY MARCHAMONT NEDHAM AND Formerly extant in His Weekly Mercurius Pragmaticus LONDON Printed in the Year 1661. A short HISTORY Of the ENGLISH REBLLION WHenas we liv'd in peace GOD wot A King would not content us But we forsooth must hire the Scot To all-be-Parliament us Then down went King and Bishops too On goes the holy Wirk Betwixt them and the Brethren blew T' advance the Crown and Kirk But when that these had reign'd a time Robb'd Kirk and sold the Crown A more religious sort up climbe And crush the Jockies down But now we must have Peace again Let none with fear be vext For if without the King these raign Then heigh down they go next A Peace a Peace the Country cries Or else we shall be undone For this brave War we thank the wise Confiding Men of London Sure now they may as well as we Know how to value Quiet When th' Army comes their Guests to be For a twelvemonths Cash and Diet. Free Quarter is a tedious thing And so is the Excise None can deliver us but the King From this damn'd Dutch Device The Parliament hath serv'd seven years True vengeance then we see Upon feign'd Jealousies and Fears For yet they are not free Long Peace a Plenty did beget And Plenty brought forth Pride Through Pride to Faction men were set In Parties to divide The new-form'd Priests first led the way And said it was no sin By force to drive the King away And draw the City in The Lords and Commons they consent To what each Rabbi saith And so the Catholick down went T' advance the publick Faith This brought a War and Taxes on T' inslave a free-born People And now the work is thus far gone Next have at Crown and Steeple Our wise Reformers brave and gay Have ta'en a goodly course To fight to feast to fast and pray And milk each honest Purse The Crown 's Revenue goes to wrack While they sing Hymns and Psalms And rather then themselves will lack The King must live on Alms. We are the learned Synod says The Church of England's Nurse Who make them bless the Sabbath-days And all the week to curse The Plough stands still and Trade is small For Goods Lands Towns and Cities Nay I dare say the Devil and all Pays Tribute to Committees A Scot and Jesuite joyn'd in hand First taught the World to say That Subjects ought to have command And Princes to obey These both agree'd to have no King The Scotchman he cries further No Bishop 't is a godly thing States to reform by Murther Then th' Independent meek and sly Most lowly lies at lurch And so to put poor Jocky by Resolves to have no Church The King dethron'd the Subjects bleed The Church hath no abode Let us conclude they 're all agreed That sure there is no GOD. Our States-men though no Lunaticks No Wizards nor Buffoons Have shewn a hundred Changeling-Tricks In less then three New Moons The Devils foot is cleft men speak And so GOD knows are they The Factions rule by fits then take Their turns and run away They vote unvote and vote with noise What they cry'd down before As ready as if London-Boys Were knocking at the dore To day an Independ out-side And then a Scotch to morrow Thus shuffle and cut they do divide Our Wealth whilst we know sorrow O happy Treason See how Wealth Is made their Heaven They swell With Pride and live by Blood and Stealth As if there were no Hell No Sadduces but must confess Those Monsters which are told In Story are risen now no less Prodigious then of old Both Cain and Judas back are come In Vizards most divine GOD bless us from a Pulpit-Drum And a preaching Catiline They feed upon a Kingdoms Curse And prey upon a King The Dev'l provide a second Course And then a Voyder bring Now CHARLES thy Conquest is compleat And all the World shall see That GOD which guides the Royal Scot Will thy Avenger be O House of Commons House of Lords Amend before September For 't is decreed your Souldiers swords Shall then you All-dismember But like fair Chapmen 't was well done To give you time and day To cast accompts for one by one They will you soundly pay The Kingdom all in pieces torn Your time is fairly spent To make your selves a very scorn Your King but Jack-a-Lent Now now we see 't was for the Crown The Houses both did fight For since the Cavaliers are down They put the King to flight The Adjutators stern and proud Said He should have no Quarter Because he is a King and vow'd To make the Saint a Martyr Their Officers cry'd Hail O King The rest made mocks and scorns The Houses vinegar did bring And all did plat the thorns Thus crucifi'd Great CHARLES did live As dead is gone away For Resurrection GOD will give A new Cor'nation day Rouze up King Charles hath mist the snare Laid for his Royal Feet Let th' Adjutators now take care Each for his Winding-sheet The Army rendezvouzed are And do they know not what The Scots and they are like to jan Let us thank GOD for that The Houses know not what to think The Ciâ—…'s horn-madded be They must be whipt until they stink A joyful sight to see Thus Cavaliers cast up your Caps And tell the Rebels plain That Charles in spight of all their traps Shall shortly rule again For Liberty and Priviledge Religion and the King We fought But O! the Golden Wedge That is the onely Thing There lies the Cream of all the Cause Religion is but Whig Pure Priviledge eats up the Laws And cries For Kings a Fig. The Houses may a Christmas keep The Countrymen a Lent The Citizens like silly sheep Must fast and be content Then where is Liberty I pray With Justice Truth and Right Sure they and Conscience fled away With Charles to th' Isle of