none so deep as I The Staff and Signet slipt my hand my Son can tell you why The name of Peace they say 't is sweet but oh it makes me shrink Straffords Ghost doth haunt me so I cannot sleep a wink Were Strafford living Mildmay said he would do me no ill I hid my self ith ' Privy when the House did pass his Bill But all my Gold and Silver thread Gregory calls his own Though in a Ship I made my will I was not born to drown You found me quoth Sir R P I had been long a Knave You promis'd I should be so still if you my Vote might have And I quoth Laurence Whittaker agreed to doe so too But if you serve old Courtiers thus they 'le do as much for you This Peace quoth Michael Oldsworth will bring me never a Fee Although my Lord have sworn for Peace and will not follow me Down down with Bishops Wheeler said for I have rob'd the Church Oh base will you conclude a Peace and leave me in the lurch Who speaks of Peace quoth Ludlow hath neither Sence nor Reason For I ne're spoke i th' House but once and then I spoke High Treason Your meaning was as bad as mine you must defend my Speech Or else you make my mouth as foul as was my Fathers breech I 'le plunder Him quoth Baynton that mentions Peace to Me The Bishop would not grant my Lease but now I 'le have his Fee A Gunpowder Monopoly quoth Evelyn rais'd my Father But if you let this War go down they 'le call me Powder Traytor Oh Jove quoth Sir John Hotham is this a time to treat When Newcastle and Cumberland me to the Walls have beat You base-obedient Citizens d' ye think to save your Lives My Sonne and I will serve you all as I have serv'd Five Wives Indeed quoth Sir Hugh Cholmley Sir John you speak most true For I have sold and morgaged most of my Land to you My Brother would have serv'd the King but was forbid to stay The King fore saw at Keynton-field Sir Harry would run away I went down quoth Sir Ralph Stapleton with Musquet Pike and Drum To fetch Sir Francis Wortley up but truly hee 'd not come Oh Lord Sir Robert Harlow said how do our Foes increase I wonder who the Devil it was that first invented Peace Treason Treason Treason Sir Walter Earle cryes out Worse than blowing up the Thames the Dagger or the Clout Hang me quoth Miles Corbet then for we are all confounded And Cavaliers will Cuckold me as well as did the Roundhead Quoth Sir John Wray Mr. Speaker I 'le end this matter streit For this which is my Ninth Speech I 'me sure is none of my Eight I try'd it at my Tables end my Neighbours know 't is right But Peace will make me speak lesse wit and then farewell your Knight A-vengeance quoth Harry Martin then I 'le ha no Accommodation For it was I that bravely tore his Majesties Proclamation i th' House I spoke High Treason I have sold both Land and Lease I shall not then keep but 3. Whores Apox upon your Peace You see beloved Londoners your Peace is out of season For which you have the sence of the House and every Members reason Oh doe not stand for Peace then for trust me if you doe Each County in the Kingdome will rise and doe soe too Essex Petition to the Best of Princes Sir THat All-Majesty from whom you take Your Heaven-Anointed Scepter for whose sake You drink the Dregs of Bitternesse which turns Your Crown of Glory to a Crown of Thornes View'd sinfull Sodom Sodom that offended Even him as we do you that vilely blended His gracious Promises did wrest his Powers And violate his Laws as we do yours Yet urg'd by him whose Zeal brookt no denyal Would have sav'd all if ten were found but loyal Great Prince to whom the Breath of Heaven hath read The Principles of Mercy in whose stead You sit as God to punish or to spare Whose equal Hand can ruine or repair Our staggering Fortunes Pity and behold Rebellious Essex People now grown old In Dis-obedience who deserv'dly stand Like Calves expecting Death from your Just hand 'T was we that bleated first Rebellion out Who being Pulpit-led not apt to doubt Our Lecturing Zealots and but green in reason Were made too wise and frighted into Treason We are a Cock-brain'd Multitude a Rabble Of all Religions and we daily squabble About vain shades and let the substance passe Hating good Manners as we hate the Masse Our new discretions every day convince Our old Rebellions ' gainst so mild a Prince Were scarcely fixt but a fresh Ordinance comes And damns our Conscience into deeper Sums Breaks ope our Houses Rifles all our Stuff Nay more as if we had not yet enough Plunders our very wits nay if we do Shew but a sorry shrug Malignants too That in so much our people now obeys As many Tyrants as the Year hath dayes But we have ten ten ten times multiply'd And thousands more to that which have deny'd To bend their knees to Baal whereof some lye Cloystered in Grates where they unpittied cry For Superannuated Crusts and there remain Even taking Gods and Charles his Name in vain Some scorning to be aw'd by Subjects fled From their dear Wives and Children led Like Theeves to Gaols saluted with the Curse Of every Dunghill scurfe with durt and worse Where they are sadly but yet dearly fed Some ag'd some weak some dying and some dead For their dear sake great Charles they undertake Deaths willing Martyrdome for Charles his sake Be gracious to their County let her know That she a miserable Land doth owe Her sweet Redemption to their Congruous merit And least they 'le abjure what now they scarce inherit Let that accustom'd Sun-shine of your Eye Enrich her soyle that she may still out-vye Her Neighbouring Shires let that brand which now She wears be set on th' Epidemick brow And let the Loyal Gentry still be known By this firm Mark from the perfidious Clown Let them like treacherous slaves be alwaies bound To pay Rack-rents and only Till the ground Let neither them nor their base off-spring dare To be so rich as buy a Purchase there Dread Soveraign Forgive Forget Remember and Relent Resemble him you so much represent And when pleas'd Heavens shall set thy Scepter free Triumph in him and wee 'll triumph in thee The Cryer O Yes if any Man or Woman Of what degree soever Lord Knight Esquire Gentleman or Yeoman Felt-maker Button-Maker or Weaver Coach-man Cobler or Brick-layer Sheriff Alderman or Mayor In City Town or Country hath Lost his Religion or his Faith Let him forth with repair to th' Cryer Of Westminster where let him bring The Mark of what he doth require And he shall hear on 't if God blesse the King O Yes if any Man or Woman Of what degree soever From the Marquis to the Yeoman From
Bentwizle That a Round-fart is better then a stinking fiezle Have patience Gentlemen quoth Sir Francis Bacon There 's none of us all but may be mistaken Why right quoth the great Attorney I confesse The Eccho of ones is remedilesse The old Earle of Bristol's Verses on an Accommodation THe Parliament cryes Arme the King sayes No The New Lieutenants cry Come on let 's go The Citizens and Roundheads cryes So so The People all amaz'd cryes Where 's the Foe The Scots that stand behind the Door cryes Boe Peace Stay awhile and you shall know The King stands still faster than they can go If that the King by force of Armes prevail He is invited to a Tyranny If that by power of Parliament he fail We heap continual Warre on our Posterity Then he that is not for Accommodation Loves neither God nor Church nor King nor Nation The Rump's Hypocricy WE fasted first then pray'd that War might cease When Praying would not serve we paid for Peace And glad we had it so and gave God thanks Which made the Irish play the Scotish Pranks Is there no God let 's put it to a Vote Is there no Church some Fools say so by rote Is there no King but Pym for to assent What shall be done by Act of Parliament No God no Church no King then all were well If they could but Enact there were no Hell The Parliaments Hymnes O Lord preserve the Parliament And send them long to reign From three years end to three years end And so to three again Let neither King nor Bishops Lord Whilst they shall be alive Have power to rebuke thy Saints Nor hurt the Members five For they be good and godly men No sinfull path they tread They now are putting Bishops down And setting up Round-head From Holdsworth Bromrigge and old Shute Those able learned Scholars Good Lord deliver us with speed And all our zealous Followers From Fielding and from Vavasour Both ill affected men From Lunsford eke deliver us That eateth up Children Thy holy Burton Bastwick Lord keep them in thy Bosome Eke him that hath kept out the King Worshipfull Sir John Hotham Put down the King and Hartford Lord And keep them down for aye Thy chosen Pym set up on high And eke the good Lord Say For Warwick wee beseech thee Lord Be thou his strong defence Holland Brooks and S shield And eke his Oxcellence For B and K to That are both wise and stout Who have rebuk'd the King of late And his ungodly Rout. Once more we pray for Parliament That they may sit secure And may their Consultations From Age to Age endure Let all the Godly say Amen And let them Praises sing To God and to the Parliament And all that hate the King The Round-heads Race I Will not say for the Worlds store The World 's now drunk for did I The Faction which now reigns would roare But I will swear 't is giddy And all are prone to this same Fit That it their Object make For every thing runs Round in it And no form else will take To the Round-Nose Peculiar is The Ruby and the Rose The Round-lip gets away the Kisse And that by Favour goes The Round-beard for Talke of State Carry it at the Club The Round-Robin by a like fate Is Victor in the Tubb Hanworths Round-block speak pollicy The Round-hose Riches draw The Round-heads for the Gospell bee The Round Copes for the Law Tom his Round Garbe so rules all o're The pox take him for mee That e're lookes for square dealing more And hears an health to thee On the Queens Departure UP up wrong'd Charls his friends what can you be Thus Mantled In a stupid Lethargie When all the world 's in Arms and can there be Armies of Fears abroad and none with thee Breath out your souls in sighs melt into tears And let your griefs be equal to your fears The Sphaeres are all a jarring and their jarres Seems counter-like to Calculate the Starres The Inferior Orbes aspire and do disdain To move at all unlesse they may attain The highest Room our Occedentall Sunne Eclips'd by Starres forsakes his Horizon Bright Cinthia too they say hath hid her face As 't were Impatient of her Sol's disgrace And our fears tell us that unlesse the Sunne Lend us his beams again the World will run Into another Chaos where will be Nought but the cursed Fruits of Anarchie Sedition Murder Rapine and what 's worse None to Implore for Aid Oh here 's the Curse But stay ye Starres what will ye wish to bee More Sunns then one will prove a Prodigie To afright the Amazed World will ye be-night That glorious Lamp that Fountain of all light Will none but Sol's own Chaire please your desire Take heed bold Stars you 'le set the world on fire Pyms Anarchy ASk me no more why there appears Dayly such troopes of Dragooners Since it is requisite you know They rob cum privilegio Ask me no more why th' Gaole confines Our Hierarchy of best divines Since some in Parliament agree T is for the Subjects Liberty Ask me no more why from Blackwall Great tumults come into Whitehall Since it 's allow'd by free consent The Priviledge of Parliament Ask me not why to London comes So many Musquets Pikes and Drums Although you fear they 'll never cease 'T is to protect the Kingdoms peace Ask me no more why little Finch From Parliament began to winch Since such as dare to hawk at Kings Can easie clip a Finches wings Ask me no more why Strafford's dead And why they aim'd so at his head Faith all the reason I can give 'T is thought he was too wise to live Ask me no more where 's all the Plate Brought in at such an easie rate They will it back to th' Owners bring In case it fall not to the King Ask me not why the House delights Not in our two wise Kentish Knights There Counsell never was thought good Because it was not understood Ask me no more why Lesley goes To seize all rich men as his foes Whilst Country Farmers sigh and sob Yeomen may beg when Kings do rob Ask me no more by what strange sight Londons Lord Maior was made a Knight Since there 's a strength not very far Hath as much power to make as mar Ask me no more why in this Age I fing so sharp without a Cage My answer is I need not fear Since England doth the burden bear Ask me no more for I grow dull Why Hotham kept the Town of Hull This answer I in brief do sing All things were thus when Pym was K To my Lord B. of S. he being at York My Lord WHen you were last at London 't was our fear Lest the same Rout which threatned Majesty Might strike at you 't is but the same Career To aime at Crowns and at the Miter fly For still the Scepter and the Crosier staffe Together fall ' cause they 're together
the shore of the red Sea Of Naseby and of Newbery If then you will come provided with Gold We dwell Close by Hell Where wee 'l sell What you will That is ill For Charity waxeth cold 2. Hast thou done murther or bloud spilt We can soon giv 't another name That will keep thee from all blame But be it still provided thus That thou hast once been one of us Gold is the God that shall pardon the Guilt For we have What shall save Thee from th' Grave Since the Law We can awe Although a famous Prince's bloud were spilt 3. If a Church thou hast bereft Of its Plate 't is holy-theft Or for Zeal-sake if thou beest Prompted on to take a Priest Gold is a sure prevailing Advocate Then come Bring a summe Law is dumb And submits To our wits For it 's Policy guides a State A Medley 1. ROom for a Gamester that plays at all he sees Whose fickle faith is fram'd Sir to fit such times as these One that cryes Amen to ev'ry factious Prayer From Hugh Peters Pulpit to St. Peters Chair One that can comply with Crosier and with Crown And yet can bouze A full carouze While bottles tumble down Dery down 2. This is the way to trample without trembling Since Sycophants only secure Covenants and Oaths are badges of dissembling 'T is the Politique pulls down the pure To plunder and pray To protest and betray Are the only ready wayes to be great Flattering will do the feat Ne're go ne're stir Have ventred farther Then the greatest o' th' Damme's in the Town From a Copper to a Crown 3. I am in an excellent homor now to think well And I 'me in another humor now to drink well Fill us up a Beer-bowl boy That we may drink it merrily And let none other see Nor cause to understand For if we do 't is ten to one we are Trepand 4. Come fill us up a brace of Quarts Whose Anagram is call'd true hearts If all were true as I would hav 't And Britain were cur'd of its humor Then I should very well like my fate And drink off my Wine at a freer rate Without any noise or tumor And then I should fix my humor 5. But since 't is no such matter change your hue I may cog and flatter so may you Religion Is a wigeon And reason Is Treason And he that hath a Noble heart may bid the world adieu 6. We must be like the Scotish man Who with intent to beat down schism Brought forth a Presbyterian A Canon and a Catechism If Beuk wont do 't then Jockie shoot The Kirk of Scotland doth command And what hath been since he come in I am sure we ha' cause to understand A Medley of the Nations The Scot. 1. I Am the bonny Scot Sir My name is Mickle John 'T is I was in the Plot Sir When first the Wars began I left the Court one thousand Six hundred forty one But since the flight At Worster fight We are aw undone I serv'd my Lord and Master When as he liv'd at home Untill by sad disaster He receiv'd his doom But now we sink Uds bred I think The Deel's gat in his room He ne man spares But stamps and stares At all Christendom 2. I have travel'd mickle grounds Since I came from Worster bounds I have gang'd the jolly rounds Of the neighbouring Nations And what their opinions are Of the Scotch and English war In geed faith I sal declare And their approbations Jockie swears He has his load Bears the rod Comes from God And complaints go very odd Since the siege at Worster We were wounded Tag and rag Foot and leg Wemb and crag Hark I hear the Dutchman brag And begin to bluster The Dutch 3. Uds Sacrament sal Hoghen Moghen States Strike down der top sails unto puny Powers Ten twosand tun of Tivel Dammy Fates If dat der Ships and Goods prove not all ours Since dat bloot and wounds do delight dem Tararara Trumpet sounds Let Van Tromp go fort and fight dem All de States shall first be crown'd English Skellam fight not on goat side Out at last the Flemins bear Dey ha' giv'n us sush a broad side Dat ick sal be forc't to retreat See de French man he comes in compleat The French 4. By Gat Mounsieur 't is much in vain For Dushland France or Spain To crosse de English main De Nation now is grown so strong De Divla er 't be long Must learna de same tongue 'T is bettra den far to combine To sel dem Wine And teasha dem to make der Laty fine We 'll teash dem for to trip and minsh To kick and winsh For by de Sword we never sal convince Since every Brewer dere can beat a Prince The Spaniard 5. What are the English to quarrel so prone Dat dey cannot now adayes let deir neighbour alone And sal de Grave and the Catholick King Before ever dus control'd wid a sword and a sling Sal bode de Indias be left unto de sway And purity a dose dat do plunder and pray E're dat we will suffer such affronts for to be We 'll tumble dem down as you sal sennon see The Welsh 6. â—affy was once a Cottamighty of Wales Put her Cosin O. P. was a â—reater Was come in her Country Catsâ—pluttery nailes Was take her welch hook and was peat her Was eat up her Sheeâ—e Her Tuck and her Geese Her Pick her Capon was ty for 't Ap Richard ap Owen ap Morgon ap Sâ—efâ—n Ap Shenkin ap Powel was fly for 't The Irish 7. O hone O hone poor Teg and shone O hone may howl and cry St. Patrick help dy Country men Or fait and trot we dye De â—nglish steal our hâ—art of Vsquebagh Dey put us to de sword all in Dewguedagh Help us St. Patrick we ha no Saint at all but dee O let us cry no more O hone a cram a cree The English 8. A Crown a Crown make room The English man is come Whose valour Is taller Than all Christendome The Spanish French and Dutch Scotch Welch and Irish Grutch We fear not We care not For we can deal with such You thought when we began in a Civil war to waste Our Tillage Your Pillage Should come home at last For when we Could not agree You thought to share in our fall But nere stir Sir For first Sir We shall noose you all A Medley 3. The English LEt the Trumpets sound And the Rocks rebound Our English Natives comming Let the Nations swarm And the Princes storm We value not their drumming 'T is not France that looks so smug Old fashions still renewing It is not the Spanish shrug Scotish cap or Irish rug Nor the Dutch-mans double jug Can help what is ensuing Pray my Masters look about For something is a Brewing 2. He that is a Favorite consulting with Fortune If he grow not wiser then he
thing To which they do cling If his soul be too narrow to wear 'um No delight can I see In that word call'd degree Honest Dick sounds as well As a name of an ell That with Titles doth swell And sounds like a spell To affright mortal ears that hear 'um He that wears a brave soul and dares gallantly do May be his own Herald and Godfather too 3. Why should we then doat on One with a Fools coat on Whose Coffers are cram'd But yet he 'l be damn'd Ere he 'l do a good act or a wise one What Reason has he To be ruler o're me That 's a Lord in his chest But in 's head and his breast Is empty and bare Or but puff'd up with air And can neither assist nor advise one Honour 's but air and proud flesh but dust is 'T is we Commons make Lords and the Clerk makes the Justice 4. But since men must be Of a different degree Because most do aspire To be greater and higher Then the rest of their Fellows and Brothers He that has such a spirit Let him gain it by 's merit Spend his brains wealth or blood For his Countries good And make himself fit By his valour or wit For things above the reach of all others For Honour 's a Prize and who wins it may wear it If not 't is a Badge and a burthen to bear it 5. For my part let me Be but quiet and free I 'le drink Sack and obey And let great ones sway And spend their whole time in thinking I 'le ne're busie my Pate With secrets of State The News books I 'le burn all And with the Diurnall Light Tobacco and admit That they 're so far fit As they serve good company and drinking All the name I desire is an honest Good-Fellow And that man has no worth that won't sometimes be mellow The Royalists Answer I Have reason to fly thee And not sit down by thee For I hate to behold One so sawcy and bold To deride and contemn his Superiours Our Madams and Lords And such mannerly words With the gestures that be Fit for every degree Are things that we and you Both claim as our due From all those that are our Inferiours For from the beginning there were Princes we know 'T was you Levellers hate 'um ' cause you can't be so 2. All Titles of Honours Were at first in the Donours But being granted away With the Grantees stay Where he wear a small soul or a bigger There 's a necessity That there should be degree Where 't is due we 'l afford A Sir John and my Lord Though Dick Tom and Jack Will serve you and your Pack Honest Dick's name enough for a Digger He that has a strong Purse can all things be or do He is valiant and wise and religious too 3. We have cause to adore That man that has store Though a Bore or a sot There 's something to be got Though he be neither honest nor witty Make him high let him rule Hee 'l be playing the fool And transgresse then we 'l squeze Him for fines and for fees And so we shall gain By the wants of his brain 'T is the Fools-cap that maintains the City If honour be air 't is in common and as fit For the fool the clown as for the champion or the wit 4. Then why mayn't we be Of different degree And each man aspire To be greater and higher Then his wiser or honester brother Since Fortune and Nature Their favours do scatter This hath valour that wit T'other wealth nor is 't fit That one should have all For then what would befall Him that 's born nor to one nor to'ther Though honour were a prize at first now 't is a chattle And as merchantable grown as your wares or your cattle 5. Yet in this we agree To live quiet and free To drink sack and submit And not shew our wit By our prating but silence and thinking Let the politick Jewes Read Diurnals and Newes And lard their discourse With a Comment that 's worse That which pleaseth me best Is a Song or a Jest And my obedience I 'le shew by my drinking He that drinks well does sleep well he that sleeps well doth think well He that thinks well does do well he that does well must drink well The Independents resolve COme Drawer and fill us about some Wine Let 's merrily tipple the day 's our own VVee 'l have our delights let the Country go pine Let the King and his Kingdom groan The Crown is our own and so shall continue VVee 'l Monarchy baffle quite VVee 'l drink off the Kingdomes revenue And sacrifice all to delight 'T is Power that brings Us all to be Kings And wee 'l be all crown'd by our might 2. A fig for divinity lectures and law And all that to Loyalty do pretend While we by the sword keep the Kingdom in aw Our Power shall never have end The Church and the State wee 'l turn into liquor And spend a whole Town in a day We 'l melt all their bodkins the quicker Into Sack and drink them away We 'l keep the demeans And turn Bishops and Deans And over the Presbyters sway 3. The nimble St. Patrick is sunk in his boggs And his Country men sadly cry O hone O hone St. Andrew and 's Kirk-men are lost in the foggs Now we are the Saints alone Then on our Superiours and Equalls we trample And Jockie our stirrup shall hold The City 's our Mule for example That we may in plenty be roul'd Each delicate dish Shall but Eccho our wish And our drink shall be cordial gold The Lamentation MOurn London mourn Bathe thy polluted soul in tears Return return Thou hast more cause of grief then th'hadst for fears For the whole Kingdom now begins To feel thy sorrow as they saw thy sins And now do no Compassion show Unto thy misery and woe But slight thy sufferings as thou didst theirs 2. Pride towring Pride And boyling lust those fatal twins Sit side by side And are become Plantations of sins Hence thy Rebellions first did flow Both to the King above and him below And sordid sloth The Nurse of both Have rais'd thy crimes to such a growth That sorrow must conclude as sin begins 3. Fire raging fire Shall burn thy stately towers down Yet not expire Tygres and Wolves or men more savage grown Thy Childrens brains and thine shall dash And in your blood their guilty tallons wash Thy Daughters must Allay their lust Mischiefs will be on mischief thrust Till thy Cap tumble as thou mad'st the Crown 4. Cry London cry Now now petition for redresse Where canst thou fly Thy emptyed Chests augment thy heavinesse The Gentry and the Commons loath Th' adored Houses slight thee worse than both The King poor Saint Would help but can't To heav'n alone unfold thy want Thence came thy Plagues thence onely Pity flow'th The Reformation TEll not me
Tune of Old Simon the King IN an humour of late I was Yeleped a dolefull dump Thought I we 're at a fine pass Not a man stands up for the Rump But le ts be lashed o'r and o'r While it lies like a senceless Fop. 'T would make a man a Whore To see a Tail tew'd like a Top. Though a Rump be a dangerous bit And many a Knave runs mad on 't Yet verily as it may hit An honest man may be glad on 't To abuse a poor Blind Creature I had like to have said and a Dumb But now it has gotten a Speaker And Say is the Mouth of the Bum When Besse rul'd the Land there was no man Complain'd and yet now they rail I beseech you what differs a Woman From a thing that 's all Tongue and Tayle Though a Rump c. The Charter we 've sworn to defend And propagate the Cause What call ye those of the Rump-end But Fundamental Laws The Case is as clear as the Day There had been no Reformation If the Rump had claw'd it away You had had no Propagation Though a Rump c. As a Bodie 's the better for a Purge Tho' the Guts may be troubled with Gripes So the Nation will mend with a Scourge Tho' the Tayle may be sick of the Stripes Ill humours to conveigh When the State hath taken a Looseness Who can hold what will away The Rump must do the Business Though a Rump c. The bold Cavalier in the Field That laughs at your Sword and Gun-shot An Ord'nance makes him to yield And he 's glad to turn Tail to Bum-shot Old Oliver was a Teazer And waged warr with the Stump But Alexander and Caesar Did both submit to the Rump Though a Rump c. Let no man be further misled By an Errour past Debate For Sedgwick has prov'd it the Head As well of the Church as the State Honest Hugh that still turns up the Tippets When he Kneels to Administer Sayes a Rump with Skippons sippets Is a Dish for a Holy Sister Though a Rump c. We 're all the better for 't 'T is the Fountain of Love and of Life 'T is that makes the sport Keeps the peace betwixt Man and Wife Oh happy all they that have spent Their Bloud and Estates on the Breech For they 're sure at last to Repent And they 'd better dye Honest than Rich Though a Rump c. Through Pride of Flesh or State Poor Souls are overthrown How happy then is our Fate VVe've a Rump to take us down In matters of Faith 't is true Some differings there may be But give the Saints their due In the Rump they all agree Though a Rump c. 'T is good at Bed and at Bord It gives us Pleasure and Ease Will you have the rest in a word 'T is good for the new disease The Tumult of the Guts 'T is a Recipe for the Kings Evill Wash the Members as sweet as Nuts And then throw them all to the Devil Though a Rump be a dangerous Bit And many a Knave runs mad on 't Yet verily as it may hit An honest man may be glad on 't Chipps of the Old Block or Hercules Cleansing the Augaean Stable To the Tune of The Sword 1. NOw by your good leave Sirs Shall see the Rump can cleave Sirs And what Chips from this Treacherous Block Will come you may conceive Sirs 2. Lenthall's the first o' the Lump sure A Fart and he may jump sure For both do stink and both we know Are Speakers of the Rump sure 3. That Mine of Fraud Sir Arthur His Soul for Lands will barter And if you 'd ride to Hell in a Wayn Hee 's fit to make your Carter 4. Sir Harry Vane God blesse us To Popery he would press us And for the Devils Dinner he The Romane way would dress us 5. Harry Martin never mist-a To love the wanton Twist-a And lustfull Aretines bawdy Leaves Are his Evangelist-a 6. Nevill's no Wigeon His Practise truly stygian Makes it a Master-piece of wit To be of no Religion 7. But my good Lord Glyn Man Pride is a deadly sin Man Cots plultera nails few Traytors be Like you of all your kin Man 8. If Saint-John be a Saint Sir He hath a devilish Taynt Sir While Straffords blood in Heavens High Court Of Justice makes complaint Sir 9. Doctor Palmers all day sleeping And into his Heart ne're peeping 'T is ill he that neglects his own Should have All-souls in keeping 10. VVill Bruertons a sinner And Croyden knows a Winner But O take heed least he do eat The Rump all at one Dinner 11. Robin Andrews is a Miser Of Coblers no despiser And could they vamp him a new head Perhaps he would be Wiser 12. But Baron VVild come out here Shew your Ferret Face and Snout here For you being both a Fool and Knave Are a Monster in the Rout here 13. Nick Lechmere Loyalty needs still And on Weather-Cocks he feeds still If Heathen Turk or Jew should come So he would change his Creed still 14. There 's half-witted VVill Say too A right fool in the Play too That would make a perfect Asse If he could learn to Bray too 15. Cornelius thou wert a Link-boy And born 't is like in a Sink boy I de tell thy Knavery to the World But thy pitch sticks in my ink boy 16. Baron Hill was but a Valley And born scarce to an Alley But now is Lord of Taunton Dean And thousands he can Ralley 17. But if you ask the Nation Whence came his Elevation They 'll say he was not raised by God But by our inundation 18. Lord Fines he will not Mall men For he likes not death of all men And his heart doth go to Pit to Pat When to Battle he should call men 19. Perfideous VVhitlock ever Hath mischiefs under 's Beaver And for his ends will put the World Into a burning Feavour 20. Ashley Cowper knew a Reason That Treachery was in season When at the first he turned his coat From Loyalty to Treason 21. And gouty Master Wallop Now thinks he hath the Ballop But though he trotted to the Rump Hee 'l run away a Gallop 22. There 's Carew Rawleigh by him All good men do defie him And they that think him not a Knave I wish they would but try him 23. Luke Robinson that Clownado Though his heart be a Granado Yet a High-shooe with his hands in his Poke Is his most perfect shadow 24. Salloway with Tobacco Inspired turn'd State Quacko And got more by his feigned zeal Then by his What de' e lack ho. 25. But Lisle is half forgotten Who oft is over-shotten For just like Harp and Gridiron His brains with Law do Gotten 26. Lord Monson's next the Bencher Who waited with a Trencher Now his tail is jerk'd at home and abroad For he 's a feeble Wencher 27. We hear from Sir John Lenthall Though his gouty Lord hath spent all
The Right was then in Old Olivers Nose But when the Devil of that did dispose It descended from thence to the Rump in the cloze Which no body can deny Nor is it likely there to stay long The Retentive Faculties being gone The Juggle is stale and Mony there 's none Which no body can deny The Secluded Members made a Tryal To Enter but them the Rump did defie all By the Ordinance of Self-denyal Which no body can deny Our Politique Doctors do us Teach That a Blood-sucking Red-coat's as good as a Leech To Relieve the Head if applyed to the Breech Which no body can deny But never was such a Worm as Vane When the State scour'd last it voided him then Yet now he 's crept into the Rump again Which no body can deny Ludlow's Fart was a Prophetique Trump There was never any thing so Jump T was the very Type of a Vote of this Rump Which no body can deny They say 't is good Luck when a Body rises With the Rump upward but he that advises To Live in that Posture is none of the wisest Which no body can deny The Reason is worse though the rime be untoward When things proceed with the wrong end forward But they talk of sad news to the Rump from the Norward VVhich no body can deny 'T was a wonderfull thing the strength of that Part At a Blast it will take you a Team from a Cart And Blow a Man's Head away with a Fart VVhich no body can deny When our Brains are Sunck below the Middle And our Consciences steer'd by the hey down-diddle Then things will go round without a Fiddle VVhich no body can deny You may order the City with a Hand-Granado Or the General with a Bastonado But no way for a Rump like a Carbonado VVhich no body can deny To make us as famous in Counsel as VVars Here 's Lenthal a Speaker for mine And Fleetwood is a Man of Mars VVhich no body can deny 'T is pitty that Nedhams Fall'n into Disgrace For he orders a Bum with a marvailous Grace And ought to attend the Rump by his Place VVhich no body can deny Yet this in despight of all Disasters Although he hath Broken the Heads of his Masters 'T is still his Profession to give 'em all Plasters VVhich no body can deny Let 'em cry down the Pope till their Throats are sore Their Design was to bring him in at the back door For the Rump has a mind to the Scarlet-whore VVhich no body can deny And this is a truth at all hands confest However unskillfull in any of the rest The Rump speaks the Language of the Beast VVhich no body can deny They talk that Lambert is like to be try'd For Treason and Buggery beside Because that he did the Rump bestride VVhich no body can deny The Rump's an old Story if well understood 'T is a thing dress'd up in a Parliaments Hood And lik't but the Taile stands where the Head should VVhich no body can deny 'T would make a man scratch where it does not itch To see forty Fools heads in one Politick breech And that hugging the Nation as the Devil did the VVitch VVhich no body can deny From rotten Members preserve our VVives From the mercy of a Rump our Estates and our Lives For they must needs go whom the Devil drives Which no body can deny A New Ballad To an Old Tune Tom of Bedlam Make room for an honest Red-coat And that you 'l say's a wonder The Gun and the Blade Are his Tools and his Trade Is for Pay to Kill and Plunder Then away with the Laws And the Good Old Cause Ne'r talk o' the Rump or the Charter 'T is the Cash does the feat All the rest 's but a Cheat VVithout That there 's no Faith nor Quarter 'T is the Mark of our Coin GOD WITH US And the Grace of the Lord go along with 't When the Georges are flown Then the Cause goes down For the Lord is departed from it Then away c. For Rome or for Geneva For the Table or the Altar This spawn of a Vote He cares not a Groat For the Pence hee 's your dog in a Halter Then away c. Tho' the Name of King or Bishop To Nostrils pure may be Loathsom Yet many there are That agree with the Maior That their Lands are wondrous toothsom Then away c. When our Masters are Poor we Leave 'em 'T is the Golden Calf we bow too VVe kill and we slay Not for Conscience but Pay Give us That wee 'l fight for you too Then away c. 'T was That first turned the King out The Lords next then the Commons 'T was that kept up Nol Till the Devil fetch'd his Soul And then it set the Bum on 's Then away c. Drunken Dick was a Lame Protector And Fleetwood a Backslider These we served as the rest But the City 's the Beast That will never cast her Rider Then away c When the Maior holds the Stirrop And the Shreeves cry God speed your Honours Then 't is but a Jump And up goes the Rump That will spur to the Devil upon us Then away c. And now for a fling at your Thimbles Your Bodkins Rings and VVhistles In truck for your Toyes We 'll fit you with Boyes 'T is the doctrine of Hugh's Epistles Then away c. When your Plate is gone and your Jewells You must next be entreated To part with your Bags And strip you to Rags And yet not think y' are cheated Then away c. The truth is the Town deserves it 'T is a Brainless Heartless Monster At a Clubb they may Bawl Or Declare at their Hall And yet at a push not one stir Then away c. Sir Arthur vows he 'll treat 'em Far worse than the Men of Chester He 's Bold now they 're Cow'd But was nothing so Lowd When he lay in the ditch at Lester Then away c. The Lord hath left John Lambert And the Spirit Feaks Anointed But why oh Lord Hast thou sheathed thy Sword Lo thy Saints are disappointed Then away c. Tho' Sir Henry be departed Sir John makes good the place now And to help on the work Of the Glorious Kirk Our Brethren march apace too Then away c. While Divines and States-men wrangle Let the Rump-ridden Nation bite on 't There are none but we That are sure to go free For the Souldier's still in the right on 't Then away c. If our Masters won't supply us With Mony Food and Clothing Let the State look to 't We 'll ha' one that will do 't Let him live we 'll not damn for nothing Then away with the Laws And the Good Old Cause Ne'r talk o' the Rump or the Charter 'T is the Cash does the Feat All the rest 's but a Cheat Without That there 's no Faith nor Quarter The Breech wash'd by a Friend to the RUMP To the
man that ere I saw Did arguments from Scripture draw Religion was before the Law 24. If so Sir Harrington's mistane Religion doth the Law sustain Law property it is most plain 35. A Parson too of no small note His sense as thred-bare are his coat And neither of them worth a groat 26. The man doth hope in time to be Chaplain to the Academy Hee 's fit for he can scarce tell three 27. Morley who thought to have been one Of the Committee but was none For had he they 'd been all undone 28. 'T was well foreseen for the wise Knot Thought that the man might have a Plot For to have dipped their Ballot 29. One in a speech he did reherse ' Gainst the Popes land he was so fierce He cut it off at least in a teirce 30. He said he 'd quote Authority That the full lengsh of Italy Contain'd but threescore miles and three 31. A Cambrobritain here god-wot Must needs make one of this learned Knot But 't were as good if he were not 32. Tafâ— Morgan God heâ— Worship save Doth shit among them very grave He 's no great States-man but great K 33. Last Skinner of his Chair grown proud Doth gravely weild the busie croud And still to Orders cries aloud 34. To tell you more of Mr. Skinner He 'd rather talk than eat his Dinner T is that which makes him look the thinner 35. But whilst the Man to Strafford cry'd Sir you to Orders must be ty'd Or else you must not here abide 26. For our course here is not to prate Of things that do too near relate To the Affairs of present state 37. Speak to the question it is sound In what of Government the Ground Or the foundation may be found 38. Strafford with that did lowly bow Good Mr. Speaker calm your brow And of my Argument allow 39. For had your Question any sense I should not take the confidence To give your Worship ought offence 40. But since for non-sense it may passe To speak to you in Country-Phasse Your Worship is a learned Asse 41. Which words he took in so much scorn That nothing else would serve his turn But presently he must adjourn 42. Adjourn quoth Strafford in a fright Are you a Burgesse or a Knight Sure I shall to the Tower to night 43. But loe the worst of all disasters A Youth stood up My learned Masters All Governments are much like plasters 44. Plaisters quoth Strafford let me dye If not this poor Academy Hâ—ve not some grand infirmity 45. And since it happens to be so I may chance be infected too Therefore my Masters all adieu Exit The Cobler's last Will and Testament or the Lord Hewson's translation 1. TO Christians all I greeting send That they may learn their souls to amend By viewing of my Coblers end 2. First to the new Lords I would give all But that like me they 're like to fall Though heartless Fleetwood has no gall 3. Yet he deserves this Legacy ROPE take you all well may I cry Hou're Murderers as well as I. 4. And will thus wry-neck end your race Since wilfulful Murther hath no place In the late Parliaments Act of Grace 5. My Paring-Knife I 'le Lambert give He may have use on 't if he live For 's throat as well as his brow I believe 6. But Richard and Harry I have forgot Shall I give them my Hammers No I will not For they did not strike while th' Iron was hot 7. Vane take my Bends and Wilks my Clue Atkins my Hose of Safforn Hue But Gregory saith my Clothes are his due 8. My Cushion will fit Q. Dowager Cromwell Whilst Shipton wifes Prophesie she doth thumb well In Chair of State 't will ease her Bum well 8. For Oliver thou didst set me on high I aim'd not at it though I winkt of an eye Yet I wish not now to come thee nigh 10. For sure ere this thou'lt burn with thy Nose Which out of thy Nostrils Brimstone throwes Would thou wert here to singe my Foes 11. There is another Lord that 's Rich To cure the City whose fingers did itch But only I went thorough stitch 12. And yet they say I was out of my Trade When as Phlebotomy I Made Some Chyrurgion to do 't I 'de better have paid 13 Ill-looking death turn back thy shaft If Charon me over Styx should waft It would disgrace our Gentle-craft 14. I' th' Good Old Cause I traded stâ—ll But in 't my Lordship smelt some ill To mend it though prov'd past my skill 15. Therefore to Tyburn I must ride Although it cannot be deny'd But that I have lived single ey'd 16. And if my Foes will do me right They 'l say I 've set the crooked streight Why then I am a Man upright 17. I wish the Jury find it so John Lilburns Jury would say no Stitch up the Lord let the Cobler go 18. But 't is no jesting matter I trow For I can't laugh although you do Yet may make a wry-mouth or so 19 Before when we debaucht the Nation We could have vouch'd our Reformation By a day or two of Humiliation 20. Now 't is not currant Pay for I Have wail'd my sins and yet they cry Hang him he weeps but with one eye The Hangman 's last Will and Testament with his Legacy to the Nine Worthies viz. Col. Lambert Creed c. I Have lived to see such wretchednesse When none but Honesty are Crimes That my Ropes are turned into Rimes I and my Gallows groan Things are so carried I can't tell how There 's as many above still as are below I have hang'd such in shirts as white as snow I and my Gallows groan Oliver he lived by a Plot The Parliament sits still and why not And I fared well by a bow-knot I and my Gallows groan All my delight was in a Jayl My estate was got at a Carts tayl I know not what these people ayle I and my Gallows groan Oliver he a Coach would drive And was honey in the Parliaments Bee-hive Neither he nor I lov'd a reprive I and my Gallows groan I wish I had had his Protectors rest I 'de have laid it an earnest for a jest But Sir Vane's worth all the rest I and my Gallows groan I have chopt off many a worthy Head And thanks to the Sheriffs have been well fed But that I can dock must never be sed I and my Gallows groan Lambert I knew was troubl'd with the yellows And more perplexed with his fellows Had I liv'd I 'de cur'd him at the Gallows I and my Gallows groan Never was any so bad as my Trade The Nine Worthies would have made As a Drudge before something a Jade I and my Gallows groan But I had got nothing by the thing There 's indempnity against the string But my heir may get by a forward Spring I and my Gallows groan I see John Lilburn at a bar And Sir George Booth that man