Selected quad for the lemma: lord_n
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A36534
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Dregs of drollery, or Old poetry in its ragges a full cry of hell-hounds unkennelled to go a king-catching : to the tune of Chevy-chace.
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1660
(1660)
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Wing D2158; ESTC R1492
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7,564
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28
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DREGS OF DROLLERY OR OLD POETRY IN ITS RAGGES A full cry of Hell-hounds unkennelled to go a King-catching To the Tune of Chevy-Chace LONDON Printed in the year 1660. TO His most Honoured Friend and Cousin George Lord Monk Vicount Poderidge Duke of Albemarle Earl of Essex Knight of the most Noble Order of the Garter Lord General of all His Majesties Forces in the three Kingdoms Master of his Horse and one of his most Honourable Privy-Council DREGS OF DROLLERY OR OLD POETRY In its Raggs c. To the Tune of Chevy-Chase 1. OF Buck-hunting and Fox-catching I have heard But th'Royal Game King-catching nere was heard of yet From the shrill Trumpet of Fame 2. Yet this unheard of drerefull sport I sadly sit and sing By Rebel Rogues acted upon As gratious as great King 3. His Judas servants first are the◠That for unrighteous wages Him shamefully into th' hands betray Of Jewish bloudy Sages 4. To him all things presented are Disordered in the Nation And therefore must a Parliament Be call'd for Reformation 5. Pembroke the wise his mouth now ope's And telleth him that he 's nigh ill And that there now remains no hope As he hath heard from Mighill 6. To sage advice his eare bow down Unless he shall prove willing Lose surely he will his triple Crown Call'd alias fifteen Shilling 7. A monstrous hand is then held forth Of one of Anak's sons With six Fingers that their design Even he may read that runs 8. And that strange antick names be not Wanting to these Dissemblers These signally must now be call'd Kimbolton and five Members 9. These on a roar the whole house set Impetuously a crying The peoples peace can't be redeem'd Without great Strafford's dying 10. Then tumults raise they such no sound Is to be heard to ring But first we will no Bishops have And then wee 'l have no King 11. And these like Bull-dogs traind indeed First fly't the Bishops head And never leave their hot pursuit Till Canterbury's dead 12. Our blessed brethren then the Scots Must come into our aid For which their love they must have Pounds Three hundred thousand paid 13. Horn'd Essex then into Regiments Divides his City power For which horn'd beasts all still shall be Upon Record i' th Tower 14. And Atkins then with his wide stretch Doth his great Horse bestraddle That of the colour of his Chain Eftsoons he makes his saddle 15. Then 's Edge-Hill-Fight where whil'st is seen Many a brave soul on the ground Stout Wharton with his Morglai keen Is in a Saw-pit found 16. With more than good speed then to 'th Town of Gloster high's our Liege And with a courage like himself Layeth to it a close Siege 17. Him after Cuckold Essex Posts And close to work he falls And with his Rams horns Josuah-like He bloweth down the City walls 18. And thence away with winged speed Getteth him into the West The King he followeth soon and chase Giveth to this Royal Beast 19. Thence to Exon come and there having chear'd His Dear and bless'd his baby To Oxon then he hasteth away With all the speed that may be 20. And now when Essex had his hire Of treason by poison paid And all his valiant traiterous acts By th'wall 〈◊〉 are laid 21. Black Tom in this curs'd Cuckolds place Being now his Oxcellence grown Tamely he hopes the King to seize But findes this great Bird flown 22. The King is now the Scottish Faith For safety forc'd to sound But basely they him deliver up For two hundred thousand pound 23. Now for 's possession to Holmeby brought One striveth to out-wit another But the Independents here 's too hard For his Presbyterian brother 24. Thence to Hampton-Court in triumph led He 's there put in t' a fright B' Horse-regiments and therefore must Away to th' Isle of Wight 25. Cowes Castles first for th' captive King Thought a convenient warde But then for more security Hurste Castle a stronger guard 26. To James then first thence Westminster Where he receives his charge From more Tertulluss's than one Whereon they boldl ' inlarge 27. Black Bradshaw then in Bloud-red-robes Old Pontius Pilate acts And passeth on our Soveraign Lord Sentence for traiterous acts 28. To White-Hall last his Royal Seat With strong guards they him bring To go forth from his Banquetting-house To an Heavenly banquetting 29. One of 's accusers Dorislaus To his place you know is gone With Hoil his Judge and what o'th'rest Becomes you 'l hear anon 30. And that all the Kings Enemies May prosper as did they All Loyal Subjects of the King I 'm sure will heart'ly pray The Wise man dyeth as the Fool Eccles 2. 16. FINIS An Hymne penned by an old Barde but set to a new Tune of a latter date When I came first to London Town and now the rather thus far exposed to publick view for that it is conceived to have something of a Prophetick Spirit in it 1. NOw Counter-march Noll and face about The time is at hand of thy fatal rout Now the Lords Anointed begins t' appear No more room for thy Saints and Idols is hear And now that these cease their phanatick noises Gods Preachers spite of thee shall lift up their voices 2. The Souldier may practice now every day To trail his Pike a funeral way No sound to be heard from the beat of the Drums But look about Oliver Rowland comes And all the notes the clarions sound Is Noll must on a dry Hill be drown'd 3. 'T is time for thee Oliver to turn Hector For General thou maist not be and Protector Look well to thy self since the people all cry Noll must a Tibur-Martyr dye And 't is their only unanimous vote An Haltar's the knife must cut Nolls throat 4. Now plaints of all sorts are entred the ears Of the Highest with Widows and Orphants tears These unto him will ne'r cease to cry Till shamefully Noll there come to dye And these such vengeance shall draw down on thine head As shall make thy Nose look Hell-fire red 5. Now Mopsa must cease to be a Queen And lye on her Parsley-bed so green And from her high surfet of courtly wishes Learn her old trade of washing the dishes And since her old Oliver's going to his place Finde out a new Traytor to regain her Grace 6. And now her Jone-ship the three Kingdoms sway Seeth that no longer she continue may That she may yet in some way be serv'd Though she nor bread nor water e're deserv'd From her new Blackhall time that she address her To her old Royal Palace of Gurmunt-Chester 7. Now Salisbury and Pembroke those two lofty Knaves That base Lenthals tamely are far baser slaves That take 't for a character of their noble strain Like Hand-men to bear up this poor Speakers train Dove Garter as those spurs shall jointly loose Whil'st Oliver's neck 's tyed up in a Noose 8. Now Pride to his Grain-tub must retire And Barksteade
't is to make your King From th' same room to pass to his suffering And take this for the First-fruits of your doom For Crowning thus your King with Martyrdom Upon the Authors late less of a Parsonage for a passage in an Epistle of his to a Sermon lately Printed pinting â—he Knaves eveâ—y day turning TRuth as of old so much more now 's become Of hatred such a mother unto some That let a man a Knave but dare to name More wince than that one will as all the same So have I heard it be with many string No sooner is one touch'd but all do ring That Cow-babe Fines Fr ' a Towr a shade can fright Dares quarrel yet Patrons undoubted sight And tender he the least worm dares not harm ' Gainst Justice yet will stoutly lift his arme And boldly blindly sentence give that way Gold-weights the scale of Justice he findes sway And Lisle poor Fool that all th' while Whitlock sate His fleering Grinders ne're dust ope to prate Now like a Virginal-jack he still doth chatter Though whether 't be in tune or no no matter Such Gemini-keepers are they for this Isle That 't is Treslisle Fines as 't is Fines Trelisle So peaceably are these two Consuls bent They 'l ne're divided be in Argument But causes 'twixt them s ' order'd may you see That 't is nought else but K. me I 'l K. thee Nor may good men see better dayes e're hope Till this their sweet accord end in a Rope Amen TO his highly esteemed Friend and Cousin John Lord Grenvile Baron of Stow Earl of Bath and Biddiforde Lord-warden of the Stanneryes and Lord Lieutenant of Devon and Cornwall and one of his Majesties most Honourable Privy-Council and one of the Getlemen of his Bed-Chamber Gratior est pulchro veniens è corpore virtus What by a gracefull is express'd Is in mens thoughts more vigorously express'd GEORGE THE SECOND FORERUNNER TO CHARLES The Second TO Good King Edgar's never dying praise 'T is storied he to God doth Temples raise Monks for the Temples and that th' Monks abide Doth for them liberal maintenance provide Loe here a Monk this Edgar doth out-vie He breath without which th' English Church must dye Restores unto this Church in that the King Its nostrils breath he doth home safely bring Nay George as well as Monk is he and hath Dragon Rumpsters put to endless scath Go on Great George and make truth once more r. Greater to make t is than to be a King And th' reason by every boy is given daily Quod tale efficit magis est tale And since of late to our great good unthought From t' Andrews Cross thy self George whom th' hast brought As Boniface doth on th' Imperial Throne Set Phocas which to give yet 's not his own Whilst he with universal Bishops name Doth Boniface throughout the Worlds fame Our gracious Soveraign to thee prove a Carle I would not have but Duke of Albemarle Let him create thee yea let him still live More honours of thy worth farre short to give And the George-Garter let make still appear Th' a second English George dosts justly hear That lately hast found out a new Charles-Wain For transfretating Charles thorough the Main Nay then th' Kings Scire more must thy praise times sing That but a Prince thee getting this a King Now Rebel-Scot whose Vice-Roy George did ragin Of late too late 't is to call George again Nor may Pharaticks ever hope more quarrels To raise against our Soveraign Lord King Charles Yea this and much more than I can say Was by thee finished George on Charles Birth-day Now Lilly is in his Prognosticks faded And Wharton's Almanack true as he that made it Even now about much each with other face And th' former take the latters New-Gate place And the Fates now observe we may decree Climbe Haman shall Mordecay's cursed Tree And base Arguile according to his merit Shall great Montrosses unjust fate inherit And that the Den'shire man's the first day tryed A Courtier now 's the Proverb verifyed Since Grenvile Monk and Morris bear all date Fro' th' same Birth-day o' their great Triumvirate A knotty Dialogue betwixt the Good Lord Say and the Good Earl of Northampton A Learned speech when many a Peer had made In their own House according to th' old trade Up crawls old Say by site of th' Isle of Lundee But by Religion of the Town of Dundee And clamours Bishops and th'Book of Common-Prayer As th' onely Trumpets to this unhallowed war To whom up riseth the compos'd Lord Compton And thus right Son o' th' Church as he is he mumps him Your Lordships farre from being in the right That Prayer thus and Bishops to despite For not that Prayer the cause was nor the Myter But only the Hellish Spirit of Jack-Presbyter And that this true is you can't chose but gather Peace Prayer and Miter being return'd together And that our miseries sensibly now slack Since rooted out is now New-Elder-Jack Now Calvin may go look for his Obey Since Constantines old Bishops now're to sway Nay reason now shall we all have to sing We Lawn-sleeves Surplice Crosse we 'l have and Ring And now our Church to collective old Fines Shall say thou sha'nt profane what ere mine is Now Presters teeth so dull'd are he can't bite And th' Mask is pull'd off from this Hypocrite Upon some of the late Kings Judges ATkins that hast thought it th'greatest height of art To sweeten with the best perfume a Fart Thou ne're thought'st of tasting the waters of Marah Till the Trump now for Tiburn sounds Tarah rah rah rah Lords Tichburn and Ireton that as sharp were as Verjuice In shuting up th'Church-doors ' gainst our Christmas service You ne'r thought of tasting the waters of Marah Till the Trump now for Tiburn sounds Tarah rah rah rah Upon the Author's Twelve pound Bishoprick at Maribone Given him by John Foreset Esquire THe leaness of my Bishoprick let none deride Since th' better part by Fore-sets set aside This Seas yet pulse and water me more clear Than th richest wines and all the daintiest fare That the most errant rageing Tyrants boord With all its greatest gayties can afford But why the Bishops sea 's call'd Maribone Mens several fancies are not like less one That Maribones 't is call'd fro' a bone of Marrow Is a conjecture that is much too narrow Of all conjectures that is true alone From Maria bona tis call'd Marybone Scripsit Didimus Bullingerus Episcopus Maribonensis Annis 56 57 58 59. 60. Ipse natus sex plusquam sexaginta Now th'Church robbing Major with his more holy Horse Thought y 'had made a Covenant with Lady Mors. You ne're thought of tasting the waters of Marah Till the Trump now for Tiburn sounds Tarah rah rah rah Thou Lord Say and Seal dost so sharply inveigh ' Gainst the holy Book whereby daily we pray Thou ne're thoughtst of tasting the waters of Marah Till the Trump now for Tiburn sounds Tarah rah rah rah Let a man for his person be never so bold Thou Lambert canst prove he may be a Cuckold Whilst thou ne'r thought of tasting the waters of Marah Till the Trump now for Tiburn sounds Tarah rah rah rah Thou Cromwell hast swallowed the whole World for a time And thoughtst in bright lustre th' very Sun to out-shine But ne're thoughtst of tasting the waters of Marah Till the Trump thee to Tophet call all Tarah rah rah rah Go you cursed c. Mat. 25. 41. Nay but except ye repent ye shall all likewise perish Luke 13. 3. Qualis vita Finis ita FINIS