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B06376 Upon the execution of the late Viscount Stafford. 1680 (1680) Wing U111; Interim Tract Supplement Guide Lutt.III[136]; Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.2[145]; ESTC R39736 1,551 1

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UPON THE EXECUTION Of the Late Viscount STAFFORD I. SHall every Jack and every Jill That rides in State up Holborn-Hill By aid of Smithfield Rhymes defie The Malice of Mortality And shall Lord Stafford dye forgot He that would needs be such a Sot To dye for love of a damn'd Plot No Viscount no beleive it not II. Diana's Temple all in flame Advanc'd th' Incendiaries Name Ruffians and Bauds and Whores and Theives In Ballad Records live new lives And shall a Lord because a Traytor In such an Age so given to flatter Want that which others Saints to him Nere want to ●ame them Words and Rhime III. Oh Sir the Papishes you know Have much more gratitude then so For this same Lord that brake the Laws Of God and Man to serve their Cause Shall live in Prayers and Almanacks Beyond what Ballad-Monger make And some years hence you 'l see shall work Such Miracles would turn a Turk IV. Blest is that Man that has a Box To save the Sawdust in that sokes His tainted Blood or can besmeare One corner of his Muckinder Oh! then some Ages hence they 'l cry Lo Stafford's blood and shed for why For notihng but because he sought To kill his Prince and sham the Plot. V. Now they that dye for crimes like these The Papists send to Heaven with ease For they secure 'em safe from Hell Which once beleiv'd the rest is well A strange beleif that Men should think That were not drunk with worse then Drink That such Rewards as Deifying By Treason should begain'd and Lying VI. The Man that for Religion dyes Has nothing more before his Eyes But he that dyes a Criminal Dyes with a load and none can call Religion that which makes him dream Obduracy can hide his shame VII The Pope may do what he conjectures As to the business of his Pictures The Colours nere can hide the Crimes Stories will read to after Times And t will be found ' the Hangmans hands Will strangely blur the Pope's commands VIII Had he but shewed some Christmas Gambles And Headless took St Denis Rambles The Plot had been a damnable thing And down had gon the Scaffolding But cause his Lordship this forgot Men still beleive there is a Plot. IX Where was St. Dominic a sleep Where did St Frank his Kennel keep That on a business so emergen They did not briskly teize the Virgin To let his Lordship play a Prank Her Grace becoming and his Rank X. But they that Heaven and Earth command You see sometimes they 'r at a stand For rruth to tell ye should the Saints Be bound to hear all fool's complaints Their lives would be as voyd of mirth In Heaven as formerly on Earth XI Now Ballad-wise before he 's dead To tell ye what the Sufferer said He both defended and gain-said Held up his hands and cry'd and pray'd And swore he nere was in the Plot No by his Vicountship God wot XII Come come Sir had it not been better To have dy'd to death common debter And that upon your lasting Stone This Character had been alone Here lyes a very Honest Lord True to his King true to his word XIII But those of your Religion Are now a days so damn'd high flown You think that nothing makes a Saint But Plot refin'd and Treason Quaint And Heaven accepts no Offerings But ruin'd Kingdoms murdered Kings XIV Now you that knew who were his Judges Who found him Guilty without grudges Who gave him over to the Block And how he sham'd to save the stroak If you beleive the speech he made ye L'strange and Payton's shame degrade ye XV. They us'd all Arts that could cajole You may be sure his silly Soul And were those promises perform'd With which his conscience they had charm'd Who would betray a cursed Plot To be when dead the Lord knows what XVI But if those jolly Promises Do send thee into little ease As certainly they must undo thee What ever Fools and Knaves said to thee Then Phlegeus-like in Hell condole And curse them that betray'd thy Soul XVII Now God preserve our Noble King And bless all them that thus did bring Unto the Block that silly Head That car'd not what it did or said And all good Men may Heaven defend From such a vile untimely End LONDON Printed by D. M. December 29 1680.