MISCHIEFS MYSTERY: OR, Treasons Masterpiece, The Powder-plot. Invented by hellish Malice, prevented by heavenly Mercy: truly related. And from the Latin of the learned and reverend Doctor HERRING translated, and very much dilated. By JOHN VICARS.  

The gallant Eagle, soaring up on high:  
Bears in his beak, Treason's discovery.  
MOUNT, noble EAGLE, with thy happy prey,  
And thy rich Prize to th' King with speed convey.   
LONDON, Printed by E. GRIFFIN, dwelling in the Little Old Bailie near the sign of the Kings-head. 1617.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, Sr. JOHN LEMMON Knight, Lord Mayor of the most famous City of London, and to the Right Worshipful Sr. William Craven Knight, Alderman of London, and Precedent of Christ's Hospital, with the Worshipful Mr. Richard Heath TREASURER, together with all the Right Worshipful and Worshipful Governors thereof, JOHN VICARS wisheth all external happiness, and internal peace of conscience in this life, and eternal beatitude in the life to come.  
AS divers causes (Right Honourable, Right Worshipful, & my most worthy patrons) do produce divers effects: so divers motives do necessarily incite & stimulate all men to divers actions & intentions. Now therefore there be 3. especial motives which do at this time induce, nay compel me to dedicated these my poor Labours rather to your Honour and Worships, then to any others, to whom indeed the History itself might seem more peculiarly to appertain. First, because as this deluge of destruction intended by the barbarous butchers of Rome, had been (indeed Catholic and) universal to the whole kingdom: So your Honour and Worships being the high-topt Cedars of Lebanon, chief Magistrates of this famous City of London, especially being pious professors of Christ's verity, should also have had no small part, yea too too great and insupportable a portion and ponderous burden of sorrow and lamentation in this unparaleld project of the Pouder-treason. The second Motive is that since I amongst many hundred poor Orphans fostered in that blessed house of Piety, Pity, and Charity, that Sanctuary of your City's safeguard, yea that Blockhouse of defence (as so I may term it) against Heavens justly deserved judgements, which but for the due and daily prayers elsewhere, and thence forcibly and (no doubt) effectually ascending, we might expect to fall upon us: I mean Christ's Hospital whereof your Honour and Worships are principal patrons, and most godly Governors, Et o faelicia saecula, quae vos tales genuere Parents. I, I say (as to God's glory, your endless credit, and my no less comfort, I do most thankfully acknowledge, and ingenuously confess) having sucked from the breasts of your Charity, etiam ab origine prima, even from mine infancy, the sweet milk of comfortable education and pious institution, must thereby justly also confess that whatsoever is mine, is most properly yours, as being derived from the overflowing streams and radiant Sunbeams of your bounty and benignity to me exhibited. Therefore as acceptam refero is the moons motto: so Quod recepi retribui, must with no less reciprocal due be mine: At, at, o si, dignas persoluere grates opis esset meae, but alas, it is not (o would to God it were) in my power condignly to remunerate your deserved merits. The third and last motive or motion to this my dedication is, that since this translated Poem is my first Essay and assay of what my weak faculty could effect, being indeed better meant then made, and finished with much defect & feebleness, defect I say of Rhetorical flourishes, and feebleness, in regard I have been but a mean proficient, if not a mere Truant in the School of the Muses, having e'er cropped few or none of those odoriferous fragrant flowers which grow upon, and most gorgeously do garnish the pleasant banks of Parnassus, nor scarcely ever sipped of the aurifluous and mellifluous streams of Vrania's learned fountain, having been (o too too soon) waned from the breasts of my sacred Mother the most famous University of Oxford, and therefore like a weakling so feebly walking, as scarce able to go alone without your Honourable and Worshipful protection, yet in regard it is the Primitiae of that mean Talon which the Lord by you his most blessed instruments hath lent unto me, which (whatsoever it is, as indeed it is but small) rather than I would hide it in the ground of ingratitude, I have been bold, embouldned by these considerations, but especially by the experimental proof of your Lordships and Worship's wont favours, and most courteous dispositions in all humility to offer the same to your Honours and Worships pious Patronage and peruse, most submissly entreating you (Right Honourable, Right Worshipful, and my most worthy Mecaenaces) that as, ex parvis magna, ex ungue Leonem, & ex pede Herculem: A man may see day light through a small crevice: so you would be pleased favourably to accept this small present as a pledge of mine obliged duty, and as a Symbol of my service, which is, and ever shall be wholly at your Lordships and Worship's command. Which your courteous acceptation I desire, not so much for mine own sake, as for the History itself, and that not so much for the manner as the matter, et res ipsa loquatur, let the matter itself speak for itself, num ruminari & recordari cordibus piorum omnium per universam Britanny regionem, Whether all true hearted English protestants have not just cause to ruminate & record to all succeeding ages, the memory of this matchless Machination, & plotted Pouder-treason, whereof if I should here enter into a copious discourse, it would administer such an Ocean of overflowing turbulent waves of destruction, such a world of wonder and admired accidents, and such a map of misery and mischief, yea such an endless boundless extent of grievous aggravations, that I might with the sorrowful Trojan Prince, Infandos renovare dolores, & totos vos in lachrymas resoluere, Tell you such a woeful tale as might with the Prophet jeremy turn your heads into fountains of tears: for Quis talia fando (nisi Papista crudelis) temperet a lachrymis, none doubtless but the pharaonical hardhearted Papist could choose but be exceedingly sorrowful thereat; yea and hereby I might rather writ a large Volume, than a short Epistle, for my part I cannot but horrescere referens, even tremble at the relation thereof. But not to wrong your Lordships and Worship's patience with too much prolixity in this Epistle, jest thereby I seem to set a great pair of Gates to a little City, I will conclude of it, as a certain grave Senator did of a former ancient Treason, far inferior to this, Repertum esse facinus, quod nec Poetae fingere, nec Histrio sonare, nec mimus imitari poterit, that by heavens providence such a treacherous villainy is discovered, as never any Poet could feign the like, no Stage-player ever Act the like, nor Mimus ever imitate the like, which since it is so difficult to describe, I will herein imitate, though myself most unskilful, the skilful Painter Timanthes of whom it is recorded, that being to describe and paint out the woeful Tragedy of Iphigema sacrificed to Diana, that when he was to portray & set out her Father Agamemnon's most compassionate passion, and woeful countenance for her, that he confessing his Art insufficient to set him out deservedly in his lively lamentation, was feign to paint a vail covering Agamemnon's face, that so he might leave the extremity of his sorrow to the judgement and consideration of the beholders: So I, unskilful I, confessing myself (unless I had the faculty of Maro or Meonides) altogether unable with heart or hand, with voice or vers to discover the atrocrity & ineffable horror of this Romish barbarity, yea more than Scythian, Thracian inhumanity; will cover the description thereof with the vail of Silence, and leave it to the consideration of all that ever knew or heard of the endless extent thereof: Most humbly desiring your Lordship and Worships with wont protecting paternal favour and courteous disposition, to vouchsafe your gentle acceptance of this plain Poem, the poor mite which my thankful heart and dutiful hand, do with all obliged gratitude offer unto you, most submissively commending and committing the same to your worthy name & Patronage, your examples of Piety and charity, to the memory and imitation of posterity, and yourselves and souls to Gods all-saving Grace, and all-sufficient Tuition in this life, never ceasing to pray for the blessing of Zaccheus on you and yours, even eternal salvation in the life to come; which he grant that hath with the high price of his most precious blood redeemed us, Christ jesus the righteous, Amen.  
Your Lordships and Worships most obsequious daily Orator duly and dutifully priest in all service to be commanded: JOHN VICARS.   

To all the Loyal hearted Protestant's of England, which sincerely love the purity of Christ's Gospel, and Zealously detest the damnable doctrine of Antichrist, I V wisheth the blessings of Gods right hand, and of his left, the blessings of this life & the life to come.  

THe richest, rarest mercies daily sent  
(Right Christian brethren) to us of this Land,  
From Gods o'er flowing Grace, all-filling hand,  
May be compared to th' Sun i'th' firmament.  
Whose glorious Rays, all creatures hearts revive,  
Whose light enlight'ns all the world throughout:  
Whose heat doth cherish plants that spring and sprout,  
Whose shine to want, doth us of joy deprive.  
Yet, since so daily Man doth it enjoy,  
Who is't almost that valew's it aright?  
Who yields due praise to heaven, for heavens sweet light?  
O, few or none: Abundance doth us cloy.  
From hence we therefore justly may conclude  
That Gods rich mercies which we often possess,  
Wherewith be daily, hourly doth us bless,  
We all receive with great ingratitude.  
I need not stand t'exemplifie the same,  
It is a fault too frequent, too rank grown:  
And yet to God more odious there's not one,  
Which unto christians brings more shame, more blame:  
Of blessings spiritual, our blessed Salvation  
Wrought by our Saviour, bought with is precious blood,  
Was most Divine, gave man his chiefest good,  
Was more admired than the World's Creation.  
But of all Temporal blessings we enjoyed  
Since God did form the Earth, and Heavens high frame,  
To our deliverance, never greater came,  
When Rome by Powder would have us destroyed.  
How thankful for the first to God we are,  
I'll tax nonce conscience, but examine mine;  
But for the second, how we do decline  
From giving thanks to God, I may not spare,  
To tell you all my Christian Brethrens dear  
That, which if I should silence, senseless stones  
'tis to be feared would sound with mournful groans,  
England's Ingratitude is too too clears.  
And for this cause, I thus have took in hand  
To sing, (though simply sung) to heavens high glory,  
In this mean Poem, England's happy story  
How powerfully God to his Church did stand.  
Against which though some Athenian, Cretian mind  
May scoff and scorn at this my good intention,  
Though from Rome's favourites naught but reprehension  
And taunting terms I shall unjustly find;  
Though Rome do curse me with Bell, Book, & Candle,  
And like a gauld-backt jade do kick and winch:  
Yet I their sores have laboured so to pinch,  
As in their Nature justly them to handle.  
But if to you (my Brethrens dear) I may  
For my poor Labours kindly be respected:  
And from Calumniators fangs protected,  
I shall acknowledge this a rich repay.  
If I hereby may move and stimulate  
Your Christian hearts to zealous detestation,  
Of Rome's most impious foul abomination.  
And heavens rich mercies often to ruminate,  
Chief the great miraculous defence  
From this Nefarious Powder-plot of Rome:  
Wherein our King and Kingdoms they did doom,  
To dire destruction, fatal pestilence.  
Than happy I, maugre all Rome's despite  
That God hereby may have due thanks and praise,  
That this occasion may men's hearts incite  
This fact with thanks to memorise always:  
Read then (Kind Readers) what's amiss excuse,  
And kindly censure my untrimmed Muse.   
Thy in the Lord jesus, IO: VICARS.   

A Friend at a stand, at his Friends work.  

WHo reads this work, areade my wonder; tell  
What skill to verse a Fact so ill, so well.  
Unresolved of nothing in your Love but this.   

Alias The Placet of his Friend's Essay.  
OThers thy zeal and vows, I praise thy skill  
So well to lay the Plot, Rome laid so ill.   

Another. Art's Pyramids, from Treason's Pouder-Fire.  
WHat all fire hath, hath thine, black smoke, bright flame,  
The flame thy Verse: the smoke the Traitor's name:  
Who can, decide; in which most time to spend  
Or damn their smoke, or thy bright flame commend.   
Himself not yet determined, THO: SALISBURY, Mr. in Arts Camb.   

To my good Friend Master JOHN VICARS.  

THy love to Truth I love, thy hate of Errors,  
Thy Honesty, thine Industry, thy zeal  
For God, the King, the Church, and Commonweal  
Against the rage of Rome's intended terrors:  
I like thy loathing of those Treason-stirrers,  
That for APOLLYON in these plots do deal  
With ghastly, ghostly Fathers that conceal,  
(Or rather counsel) so inhuman horrors.  
I praise thine Anthors, and thine own desire  
To have recorded unto all Posterity,  
The Ignatian Furies, ignominious fire,  
Flaming from Hell against the heavenly verity:  
In Fauks, Grants, Garuets, Winters, Catesby's, Percies,  
Let others praise thy vows: I praise thy verses.   
JOSVAH SYLVESTER.   

In Authorem.  

THe Pope to patronize his hellish tricks  
Makes Cardinals of his most dearest friends,  
An English 
An Englishman turning jesuite was made Cardinal.  Parsons plays the jade and kicks  
'Gainst Country, Kingdom, and to Rome he wends;  
But now an English vicars plays his part,  
And at such Popish Parsons casts his dart.   

Long may thy work be Usher to thy name,  
And thou a Master in this English strain,  
That if from Thames to Tiber flies thy fame;  
Still may thy Muse reserve to thee this vain,  
That if more Parsons in Rome's dregss be drowned,  
New Vicars still may rise, them to confounded.   
R. P.   

In viri mihi fratris Vice, johannis Vicarij dignissimos Labores, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

MIttor Apollineos Ego paruulus inter Alumnos, ut tibi pro Libro Laurea serta feram.  
Ne metuas Romae 
jesuitas.  laruas, lemuresuè sequaces: nec criticos, criticâ qui gravitate valent.  
Est liber ille tuus scelerato crimine Liber perge (igitur) Libro prela subire tuo.   

Idem ad eundem.  
THou carping Momus poison of good wits,  
I call not thee to give the Author praise:  
Silence I tell thee better thee befits  
Because Detraction is thy common phrase:  
Thou canst not come and mend, yet must commend,  
This work so neatly by the Author penned.   
THOMAS BRACLEY.   

To my loving friend Mr. john Vicars, in praise of his praiseworthy labours, encouraging him to discourage our enemies.  

I See thy work, should I not laud the same,  
With Traitor thou mightst justly brand my name.  
I saw thy work, and from my soul I vow:  
I think none honest will it disallow,  
I saw't, or who else seesed? without commend,  
He is a Traitor, or a Traitor's friend.  
I saw, and praise thy work, in spite of Rome:  
Hell and the Pope, I say 'tis sweetly done,  
I saw thy work, though thee I do not know:  
But figs (l'me sure) on Thistles never grow.  
Courage (brave spirit) thou hast done so well,  
Thou needest not fear Rome's candle, book, or bell:  
Thou hast a Master (in whom's all our hopes)  
That will support thee 'gainst a thousand Popes.  
Show it thy Master, than his censure past,  
Let others blow, regard not thou their blast.  
But tell them, I, and tell them to their face,  
He is a Traitor, which doth Treason grace,   
Your friend unknown NATHANIEL CHAMBER. of Gray's Inn.   

In Authorem.  

LEt Rome with Bell, Book, Candle, curse thy name,  
Thy hand, thy pen, the broacher of her shame,  
Pass not, if good accept, though Bade refuse:  
Religious hearts bid welcome to thy Muse.  
It may be some condemn thee, what's the Reason?  
They hate thy work because they love the Treason.   
W. C.   

In Commendation of the Author's worthy work.  

TO show my Love, as forward as the best,  
My Infant Muse, as one among the rest  
Hath deigned to writ: not as thou art my friend  
To praise thy work; that will itself commend.  
Good Wine no sign at any time doth need:  
Thy Work doth Love, thy self doth Laurel meed,  
TO adorn thy head, as one of Phoebus' brood,  
Who singest a Fact so ill, in Verse so good.  
But, thy pure Love to God, the Church, thy King,  
I truly praise, which (maugre envies sting,  
In detestation of that Roman Whore)  
Unto the World dorh blazon forth, the store  
Of Soule-polluting crimes, Rome doth maintain  
That them, and Her, all good men may refrain.  
This is the thing praiseworthy I approve,  
Which shows to God thy zeal, to All thy Love.   
Thomas Knight.   

To his most kind friend, Mr. john Vicar, in praise of his translated and largely dilated Poem.  

THough Romish shavelings rage with execrations,  
And downright damn thee and thy causeless book,  
Fear not: but take as blessings such damnations,  
For sure the Lord near turns his gracious look  
From those that deign Religions cause to cherish,  
In heart detest all Traitors, wish them perish.   

I cannot but commend th' industrious care  
Thou tak'st to raise from black Olivions Den,  
The memory of that deliverance rare  
And wonderful, much taxing thankless men:  
Who can so soon forget to give God glory,  
For that whereof, like near was found in story.   
N. B.   

The names of the chief Traitors that plotted and endeavoured this Powder-Treason.  

jesuite-priests.  
Henry Garnet.  
john Gerrard.  
Osw. Tesmond.  
Edw: Hall.  
— Hamon.  
Wil: Baldwin.  
Sr Euerard Digby.  
Robert Winter.  
Thomas Winter.  
Guydo Fanks.  
john Grant.  
Ambrose Rookwood  
Robert Keyes.  
Tho: Bates.  
Henry Morgan.  
Tho: Abington.  
Sr. Edm: Bainham.  
Sr. W: Stanley.  
Hugh Owen.   
Catesby, Piercy, john Wright, and Christopher Wright were slain in Rebellious fight, the former two with a Gun: the other two with Halberds. Francis Trefham murdered himself in Prison.   

To Momus or the carping Catholic.  

LEt Zoilus bark and Momus carp.  
Let mass-priests mumble and mutter:  
Let Romish jesuits rail and rage,  
And all their venom utter;  
Yea though they should with envy swell,  
And Toade-like burst in sunder:  
Yet Truth will shine and Error pine,  
To Babel's woe and wonder.    


The Cloud of Ignorance and Error.  


Curses and Excommunications  
Falsification of Scriptures  
Opposing the Thruth  
Recusancy and Rebellion  
Envy and malice.  
Blasphemies and Lies.  
Daggors Daggs Poison kill all.  
The Armado in 88    
FRUSTRA.   

Enclosed with Clouds of Ignorance and Error,  
Rome, Hell and Spain, do threaten England's terror:  
The Cardinal, Legate, jesuite, impious Friars  
Homebred Recusant, Britain's bane desires;  
Each puffs and snuffs with envy, all in vain,  
At Christ's pure Gospel, which shall still remain.    

Mischiefs Mystery, OR, Treasons Masterpiece.  

RIse (o my Muse) mournful Melpomene,  
Vouchsafe thine aid, to thy weak Orator,  
Distill sweet streams from thy rare Deity,  
Erst, too too long by him unasked for:  
Urania, take thy lute, hung up too long,  
Jest posts & stones sound out my tragic song.   

OH that I could, in sacred Helicon,  
Or precious Nectar of Parnassus Muse,  
Dip my dull pen: or from fair Cithaeron,  
Vrania's sacred skill and power could use:  
T'anatomize and paint to public view,  
A stratagem most horrid, strange and true.   

Than which, did Phoebus fair resplendent face,  
A more prodigious project, near behold,  
On Marble-pillers worthy to take place,  
Engraven in letters of bright Indian gold:  
Thou then (Heavens King) whose grace us safe preserved,  
Grant I may sing thy praise so well deserved.   

GReat Pluto, Prince of darkness Tartar's King,  
Become enamoured of Rome's Strumpet fair,  
His lustful pleasure then to pass to bring,  
From Hell to Rome, sends for his whore so rare,  
Whom Charon rows o'er black avernus flood,  
And brings to Styx, where Pluto's palace stood.   

Than, to his presence, soon She had access,  
Where they enjoyed infernal copulation:  
Whose hideous act did from her womb express,  
A monstrous birth exceeding admiration,  
A more than Centaur strange, strong, fierce and fell  
misshaped cruel, cursed fiend of Hell.   

To Lerna's pool this purple Strumpet's doom  
Was to return, where She this fiend brought forth,  
And with th'infectious milk of faithless Rome,  
It fearfully was fostered to full growth,  
There, there, I say, did this fierce Hydra live,  
There to this Monster She did vigour give.   

Not sooner was this offspring of the Devil,  
This impious Imp of Hell, this Viper vile,  
Fraught with Thessalian spells, pride, mischief, evil,  
With serpentine deceit prompt to beguile,  
Completely furnished with each Stygian Art:  
With unheard impudence to act his part.   

But that, his damned 
* The Pope.  Dam observed the same,  
Perceived his Genius vile, his wit, his will,  
With dulcide language calls him by his name:  
With most pernicious council doth him fill.  
Wrath boils within, revenge and fury's fire,  
And thus t'her Son, Sh'vnfolds her foul desire.   

'mongst all the Kingdoms of Europa fair,  
None ever bore more hatred unto me. 
The Whore of Rome makes her complaint to her first begotten Son Treason.   
(Thy Mother dear) none ere sought to impair  
Thy Parent's welfare and prosperity:  
As those damned Heretics of Britanes nation,  
Endeavouring daily our dire extirpation.   

Alas (dear Son) 'tis woeful to declare.  
The many mischiefs, injuries and wrong;  
Which Peter's holy Kingdom sacred Chair,  
Hath been constrained to suffer too too long:  
Yea, more and more they daily work our woe,  
Hoping t'effect our final overthrow.   

Ay me, I grieve to think on our great loss,  
What rich revenues daily we possessed:  
What sums we did into our coffers toss:  
What great devotion to our See expressed  
In them we daily found, strange to be spoke,  
How bounteously they made our chimneys smoke,   

Whose zeal indeed (sweet Son) I must confess,  
Did far exceed all others of their days:  
What swarms of Friars and Nuns even numberless,  
By them were fostered to their lasting praise?  
By them our holy Mass great Pluto's lore,  
Was gorgeously bedight him to adore.   

What stately Monasteries with turrets high,  
Did they then spare most sumptuously to build?  
What Temples fair whose tops even touched the sky?  
With relics richly garnished and filled:  
For holy Votaries and Virgins chaste,  
Whom we 'mongst Saints & Angels blest have placed.   

In every City each fair wealth seat,  
In every Country each most fertile soil,  
Hath been possessed by our Champions great,  
On them conferred without cost or coil.  
What Nation did not our great name adore?  
What people sought not our help to implore?   

I tell thee Son, this only Albion's Isle,  
Hath Rome's revenues mightily increased:  
Through daily discord, variance, fraud and guile,  
Which twixt them bred for bribes we forthwith ceased:  
Not France so great, nor spacious Germany,  
Came near to this for our utility.   

But to conclude, thou happily mayst say  
'tis strange I speak, but doubtless 'tis most true▪  
The mighty sums they did us yearly pay  
Surmounted far their Kings own revenue.  
And thinkest thou then I can with patience brook  
So rich a prey to be thus from me took?   

And only by damned Luther's heresy,  
That cursed Caitiff, cause of all our woe:  
Shall I put up this great indignity,  
And so give way t'a greater overthrow?  
Not, not, irrevocable is my doom  
I'll be revenged, not cease till they consume.   

For since this wicked varlet from us fled,  
Renounced our hests and Catholic profession,  
With how sore tempests, storms and direful dread,  
Have we alas endured there great oppression?  
Our kingdom shaken, and our Triple Crown,  
In hazard often to be smitten down.   

He, he, even Luther that base Runaway.  
To his increasing error hath allured,  
The Germans, English, yea I well may say,  
Most of the French, too bad to be endured:  
All these and more this wretch deluded hath  
To follow him, and leave our Romish Faith.   

Often with myself, I to myself have said,  
I am a puissant Queen, most firm and stable,  
My glorious prime shall never be decayed,  
A widow desolate none shall be able  
In future age to make me. Time shall see  
Me still to flourish like a fair palm-tree.   

But jest too long with needless ambages,  
And vain tautology I should thee hold,  
It now behooves us forthwith to appease  
Their madness, and to tametheir courage bold,  
Yea, now I see that our declining hope  
Bids us not linger, nor give longer scope.   

Bids us advised be and counsel take,  
On Pluto's anvil strange wiles how to frame,  
With unheard craft, intricate snares to make,  
And subtle stratagems to work their shame,  
All practices to prove, no shifts to shun,  
Whereby our glorious welfare may be won.   

And now in thee (sweet Nourceling) doth consist  
Of our desires the fortunate event:  
In thee, I say, our fortunes may be blessed,  
So apt thou art t'effect our great intent.  
So exactly practised in thy 
* The Devil.  father's skill,  
So well acquainted with thy 
* The Pope.  mothers will.   

Expert thou art a treason to contrive,  
Though near so hateful, horrible and bloody,  
Of life and liberty soon to deprive  
A King or Kingdom without stop or study,  
To swear, forswear, cousin and equivocate,  
By mine instruction rarely literate.   

Than haste with speed (Allecto be thy guide)  
To Albion great that proud presumptuous nation,  
Be't just or unjust leave no means untried  
Them to reduce t'our ancient domination.  
Than Rome's officious most pernicious Son,  
Replies but this, dear Mother count it done.   

Than like swift Euphrates with fowl pretence,  
And Vultures appetite he swiftly flies  
To England, where for's first ingredience,  
A Priest-like habit shapes his best disguise:  
And marvel not, for thus the Devil doth use,  
Like Angel bright God's people to abuse.   

And thus in Guydo Faukses faithless breast, 
Fauks is not here first mentioned as the Prime Author, but because he was so inhuman as to be the fatal ●ctor, for Catesby (as afterwards is shewin) was the first Author of this Powder-Treason.   
He harbour finds, and kindly's entertained,  
A man to mischief prompt and ready priest,  
Swift to shed blood; and soon with treason stained,  
With envy stuffed and puffed, sly, malcontent,  
Dissembling Sinon Double-diligent.   

Whose name he ever changeth with his place  
Of residence, like Neptune's Proteus,  
His name and shame equal in his disgrace,  
Foster sometimes, johnson and 
* Or Browne.  Brunius,  
His name not nature, habit not his heart,  
He takes, forsakes, as best befits his part.   

Hear now this base-born Brat of Rome not stayed:  
But farther flings, solicits others more,  
Whose hearts already Babel's Whore obeyed,  
With muttering Israel hungering very sore  
For Egypt's fleshpots and with deadly thirst,  
To quaff Rome's poison till their belly burst.   

These doth he stir with spur of innovation,  
With high built hopes, and thus strives to persuade them,  
The day so long desired of Lamentation,  
Your foes to foil and boldly to invade them,  
Is now come on, wherein base Caluins' rout,  
And Beza's vassals you may clean root out.   

Rome's walls to rear, and ruins to repair,  
Her enemies triumphantly to bane,  
The splendour brave, and ancient beauty rare  
Of Rome's profession, strongly to maintain.  
And then to Sinon's sugared words they vow  
There's and themselves unto his beck and bow.   

This good success adds fuel to the fire,  
His Doctors hellish documents to broach,  
To Court he comes with treacherous desire,  
And into favour there, hopes to encroach,  
Where pious james our King, so good, so great,  
justly enjoyed his Predecessors seat.   

With majesty and mildness compassed round,  
With Nobles, Princes, and majestic Peers,  
Whose happy reign their joint applause resound,  
Whose Peerless presence his true subjects cheers,  
Whose mildness (o blessed Prince) and clement mind,  
His loyal subjects largely feel and found.   

For thus he hoped his people's hearts to win,  
(Best rule indeed for Regal government)  
But yet the vassals of that Man of Sin,  
To whom Truth's rule is great disparagement,  
The refractory Papists proud, disloyal,  
Abuse his clemence, patience, and long trial.   

These Tyger-like, their envious bristles rear,  
Mildness with Mischief, love with hate repay,  
Mercy with murder, freedom with great fear  
They him remunerate, more brutish they,  
Filling men's ears with tales and idle charms,  
With false pretence to stir them up to arms.   

In which fowl rank, Watson that vile rank Traitor,  
That impudent and insolent Baal's Priest:  
To civil broils a treacherous animator,  
Like Prophets like profession, here thou seest:  
Lancaster then and Wales their malice show,  
From Rome's false doctrines such effects do grow.   

But look we back where we did lately leave,  
Bilingued Sinon ramping in the Court,  
Searching the man whom strait he did perceive,  
A wished companion and most fit consort,  
Percy infected, yea of treason confected,  
And even by nature thereunto addicted.   

A graceless Guardian to his gracious King,  
A most bold Bondslave to his holy Pope,  
Whom Fauks unfoldeth each material thing,  
Assures good luck, feeds him with golden hope.  
Who man and message presently embraceth,  
And in his love his confidence son placeth.   

Than each to other they themselves fast tie,  
Like Pilate and proud Herod, CHRIST to kill;  
What neither had, Faith and Fidelity,  
They mutually do promise' to fulfil:  
Than as their pledges each gave hand to others,  
And here were made treasons chief sworn brothers.   

OH you great Peers, whose power these wrongs may right, 
A Caution to Courtiers.   
Harbour not thus within you noble breast,  
Permit not in your company nor sight,  
These Anti-christian Idolists to rest:  
For slaughtering Sirens and Echidnes train,  
Do grossly, closely in their hearts remain.   

The poisonous Serpent lurks in longest grass,  
If you it foster, 'twill ingrately foster,  
Gall's in their heart, their golden glister's brass:  
With their intestine turmoils they'll you pester,  
For tetricke murders, hellish poisons, treason  
They practise more than piety and reason.   

These are their studies studious exercise,  
To all the world most palpably made known,  
Most fit effects of Rome's damned heresies,  
With these they gape to get heavens glorious throne,  
These are their works of Supererogation,  
Whereof they boast with wide-mouthed ostentation.   

Perfidious Fauks and Percy thus combined,  
His name being changed he's ta'en for Percies man:  
Fit opportunity they hereby find,  
Their project thoroughly to contrive and scan.  
And being disguised in that unknown hue,  
Securely do their rancorous poison spew.   

Hear now with Fauks and Percy, Catesby met,  
An ancient Traitor and Recusant stout,  
Whose head, heart, hands, and all to work were set,  
Some horrid treason how to bring about,  
Some strange domestic deluge to ordain,  
Since now their hopes were frustrated in Spain.   

For why, long since in sweet Eliza's reign,  
That Paragon of past and future age,  
They had sent Winter to the King of Spain,  
To crave his ay de and hostile equipage.  
Our Kingdom to invade and to possess,  
Therein to plant Rome's laws, their wrongs redress.   

Assuring him, that in his powerful aid,  
The Catholics in England would all join,  
The King as then their proffer not gainsaid;  
But promised to furnish them with coin:  
An hundredth thousand crowns he would bestow,  
And being Victor them all favour show.   

This eke he prayed, that if it should so chance 
Queen Elizabeth.   
The Queen to die, he might it forthwith know:  
For thereupon he would his powers advance,  
With expedition to our overthrow:  
Which was on both sides promised and concluded;  
But Heaven in mercy all their hopes deluded.   

Than, then, I say, did Spain intent our doom,  
When as that miserable woman died,  
(For thus it pleased that proud High-Preist of Rome,  
That gracious Queen to term with impious pride)  
OH most nefarious Liar, how could She  
Unhappy, or so miserable be.   

Whom neither th'arrow which by day did fly,  
I mean th'Armado mighty Spanish Sail;  
Nor pestilence by night, to wit, your sly  
And secret practised treasons near could quail,  
Or once come near her gracious harmless life,  
Neither by daggers, dags, or poisonous knife.   

Who in herself and subjects ere was blest  
With peace and plenty, Princely Royalty:  
Whose Kingdom while she lived, enjoyed sweet rest,  
Whose people ever lived in loyalty  
Unto her Majesty, whose power installed 
The King of Portugal.   
A King in's Kingdom by proud foes enthralled.   

Who reigned in glory, lived Religion's Tower,  
And Fortress strong, aiding her wronged friend:  
Defended Nations by her puissant power,  
And after made a most blessed Christian end,  
Know then thou foul-mouthed slanderer we retort  
Into thy throat this envious false report.   

We need not wonder that without all shame,  
You thus endeavour impiously to wrong  
Her Peerless, spotless most renowned fame,  
Since Satan is in you so powerful strong,  
As that you dare Christ and his sacred writ,  
Blasphemously abuse, as you think fit.   

Who dare (o tremble heart) tell Christ to's face,  
That he hath taught you how to cozen and lie.  
O impious equivocating race!  
If heavens great King, the God of Verity,  
You thus do dare so horribly to wrong,  
Who then shall scape the poison of your tongue?   

But now behold, a wonder you shall hear,  
It Heaven so pleased our glorious Sun went down, 
Soloccubuit nox nulla secuta est.   
And yet no night did unto us appear,  
No cloud of darkness did upon us frown,  
No loss appeared, only a change we had,  
Which our neere-dying hearts reviv'd, made glad.   

For why, in our Horizon soon did rise  
From her resplendent jubar a bright Sun, 
Our Kings coming into this Kingdom.   
Whose gracious sight was object to the eyes  
Of all good subjects, for in him begun  
Our peaceful days again to sprout and flourish,  
And ever may this milk of peace us nourish.   

But malcontent, malignant Catesby's heart,  
Together with his base confederates,  
Being galled and grieved, to th'King of Spain impart  
These accidents, and that they thought th'estates  
Of English Catholics would now prove worse,  
Because King james held on the late Queen's course.   

Therefore they of him did again desire  
His promised assistance for invasion,  
Protesting that their hearts were all on fire,  
To serve him in this great negotiation:  
But he being purposed then to treat of peace  
With England, wished them from that suit to cease.   

Which unexpected answer did them trouble,  
And with infernal wrath their hearts did burn,  
Their mischievous imaginations double,  
What course to take, which way themselves to turn,  
And when they saw all foreign force forsook them,  
Unto this Powder-Treason they betook them.   

And now this furious fiery triplicity  
Of Percy, Catesby, and false Fawkes being met,  
Catesby chief Author of this treachery,  
Did thus begin their malice on to whet,  
Right trusty friends, since now we private are,  
My mind to you I freely will declare.   

My swelling Tympany of hate is such,  
To see our Holy Father still neglected,  
Which doth with grief my very heart even touch,  
And how small hope to see him ere respected  
Within this Kingdom, for I plainly see,  
Thelate Queen's courses shall maintained be.   

I see, I see, and to our grief we find,  
That this King james an heretic will prove,  
Us Catholics to spare he's not inclined,  
Which we to him did most submissly move,  

* As before they impiously slandered Q. Elizabeth, so here they do grossly belly our Sovereign King.  Wherein he once to us did condescend,  
But now breaks promise and our wrack intent,   

Wherhfore 'tis now high time to take advice,  
To pluck up and supplant this growing weed;  
To stop such dangers we must not be nice,  
Nor with fainthearted fear must we proceed,  
But since the wound is now so putrefied,  
The sharper medicines must thereto be plied.   

Four strong inducements hereunto have we,  
Wherein both I and you are fully instructed,  
First that the King and all his Subjects be 
1   
Vile Heretics, the Catholics excepted.  
Also we know that our high Priest of Rome, 
2   
Them excommunicate and cursed doth doom,   

Another motive to this sacred fact, 
3   
Is, that no Heretic aught to be King;  
And lastly, that it is a lawful act, 
4   
Yea, a most holy meritorious thing,  
To extirpate, destroy and quite root out  
This King and his heretical baserout.   

O then dear friends, why stand we to demur?  
Why fear we? faint we? doubt we to go on?  
Let this to us be a sharp goad and spur,  
T'ncourage us with resolution:  
Namely, that we in Rome's rare Rubrickes shall  
Our name eternize and our fame install.   

That Rome, I say, will ever us accounted  
Re-edifiers of St. Peter's rites,  
By whom her glory did again remount,  
This hope, this hap, our valiant hearts incites,  
To be such Fosterers and such fautors strong,  
Thus to redeem ourselves, our Saints from wrong.   

See here, o Christian, what strange course is took,  
To set up Rome's religious adoration: 
Coacta religio vix vera religio.   
Whose most malignant spirits cannot brook  
Obedience, though with Laws mild mitigation,  
O must our blood be spilled? our King be slain?  
And many death-doore-knocking souls complain?   

OH devilish doctrine whence such works do flow,  
OH damned Doctors thus to preach and teach,  
OH miserable souls seduced so,  
OH bloody thoughts beyond all human reach:  
If thus you hope to climb to heavens high throne, 
Constantine to Ascesius, erige tibi scalam & incoelum solus ascend.   
Than with Ascesius climb to Heaven alone.   

Was David being a man just and upright,  
A man to Gods own heart conformed and made,  
Great Iuda's joy, and happy Israel's light,  
Was he, I say, to build God's house gainsaid?  
And all because his hands were full of blood,  
Yea though his battles were both just and good.   

And yet must Rome's base Bondslaves undertake,  
Not Gods but Belials temple to re'rect  
With blood, yea, must they their oblation make  
With blood of God's anointed Saints elect?  
Rome's faithless Synagogue to readvance,  
Full stuffed with error and fowl ignorance.   

Must they not only touch but trample on  
God's pious Prophets? whose blood in his sight  
Is dear and precious, must confusion  
Upon God's Church with such dire mischief light?  
If this be th'way as devilishly they hold,  
God's Church to plant, then I'll to say be bold;   

That cursed Cain may also hope to please  
The Lord, by shedding Abel's guiltless blood:  
And jeroboams Idols may appease  
God's wrath, and take away the mark which stood  
Upon his front, namely that he did 'cause  
The Israelites to leave Gods sacred Laws.   

OH far be this from each true Christians thought,  
But rather let me with King David say, 
Psal. 83.   
Woe to the work which bloodily is wrought,  
Woe unto those which Zions groundwork lay  
By crying blood, which build jerusalem  
By such a crafty cursed Stratagem.   

But yet these Romish Absalon's past grace,  
Do either think themselves to be more wise,  
Than God himself, or else like Atheists base,  
That there's no God, they do in heart surmise,  
For instantly at Catesby's vile oration  
They vow revenge with ardent protestation.   

And thereupon being filled with hellish craft,  
And poisonous hatred, they together cluster,  
Counsel to take: each shoots his deadly shaft,  
At England's peace, and Gospel's glorious lustre.  
Some this way would their wills effect, some that,  
But dire destruction each one aimeth at.   

One's vile opinion is, with sword, or knife  
His guiltless King perfidiously to slay:  
Another would deprive him of sweet life  
By powerful poison, than a third doth say,  
When he by hunting tired to sleep would lay him,  
Pretending friendly harbour, we may slay him.   

I quake to speak my tongue to tell doth tremble,  
These Traitor's impudence audacious heart,  
With God and man thus foully to dissemble  
And most profanely fearless to subvert  
Those holy rites of Harbour amiable,  
Which even the Turks do keep inviolable.   

Medusa's 
* Catesby.  Son was silent all this while,  
heareth their opinions, counteth all but shallow:  
Pluto in's heart infused such a wile,  
As in one gulf a kingdom whole to swallow.  
I mean that Caitiff Catesby who at last,  
From's poisonous stomach thus this vomit cast,   

True zealous Catholics, Rome's proved friends,  
Your love you show, but yet believe me this,  
Rather to our then their destruction tends,  
What you advise, you paint the way amiss:  
So small attempts bring danger, we'll contrive,  
To leave nor boughs, nor branch, nor root alive.   

For what though we the King alone destroy,  
Leaves he not after him a Princely heir,  
To sway his Sceptre, and his Crown t'enjoy,  
To take revenge, as we may justly fear,  
A virtuous Prince, and of most pregnant hope,  
Than let's not give to Vengeance so great scope.   

Do we not see small seeds grow up full high,  
Do we not see the slender tender Deer  
Though weak at first, at last stalk sturdily,  
With snaggy horns loftily to appear,  
Great flames have grown, and burnt down cities fair  
Even by small sparks left kindling without care.   

This young Prince Henry to my mind doth call,  
Revolting Henry th'eight, who was the first,  
That wrought our Holy Father's chief downfall,  
A deed most heinous, hateful and accursed:  
Whose hateful name may ere be execrable,  
And t'all good Catholics abominable.   

Wherhfore this is my mind and constant doom,  
To race and utterly to extirpate  
This seed heretical, to glorious Rome  
Which bears such rancour and represselesse hate:  
Now that this stratagem may prosperous be,  
With patience tend and lend your ears to me.   

An ancient house there is near situate  
To Percies chamber, unto which repairs,  
In most magnificent and princely state,  
To parley about the kingdoms great affairs,  
England's chief Peers, Nobles and Counsel wise,  
Their reverend Bishops our chief enemies.   

Thither also, as custom doth maintain,  
The first day of the Parliament doth go,  
The King, the Queen, the Prince and Princely train,  
Most pompously making a glorious show,  
In scarlet robes glistering with pearl and gold,  
Great multitudes assemble, it to behold.   

Under this house we closely may prepare  
An undermined vault, wherein to hide  
Great quantity of Powder; which to th'air  
May, like a whirlwind, cause the corpse to glide  
Of King and counsellors, of Prince and Peer:  
Your liking and consent now let me hear.   

With joint consent and great content, they all  
Laud and applaud this his most strange invention:  
Yea, Demoniac Fauks, proud, cynical,  
Promptly perceives the drift of this intention;  
And thus thereof concludes. The house (quoth he)  
Which Rome hath ruin'd shall our vengeance see.   

So we (quoth he) for our dear Catholic Truth,  
Shall canonised be, and much renowned,  
So we our foes with horror, grief and ruth  
Shall profligate, supplant and quite confounded:  
So those (I say) which 'gainst us made sharp laws,  
Shall gripped be in dire destructions claws.   

And those which quondam used to prosecute  
Our sacred Priests, and stained their hands with blood  
Of Ro●eses dear Saints, whom they did persecute  
With rigorous hatred and represlesse mood,  
These, these (I say) made proud by our rich spoils,  
Shall tumble headlong in't' our nets & toils.   

Now hereupon, to others they this break:  
Among the rest, to Gerrard jesuite.  
Gray-headed, but greene-heeded Garnet eke,  
Superior of the jesuits, whose mere sight  
Was a strong warrant, to confirm and prove  
This enterprise, so much they prized his love.   

Without whose counsel nothing was effected,  
And whose advise confirmed all they did;  
Whom as a Demi-god they all respected.  
Did what he would, left what he should forbidden.  
O most Satanical nefarious Doctors,  
Antichrists Chaplains, Lucifer's Arch-Proctors.   

Can ye for shame assume the sacred name  
Of jesus Christ, the Lamb of God most pure,  
When by your barbarous actions you defame  
Yourselves, your names, your function, and enure  
Yourselves and followers, how to kill and slay  
All such as do Rome's jezabel gainsay.   

Can they, said I? yes that they can, nay more,  
They'll brag and boast of such inhuman deeds,  
And which is worst, dare aid and help implore  
Of our high God, from whom none ill proceeds,  
These, even these holy Fathers of that Sect  
Confirm this plot, advise, instruct, direct.   

From sacrilegious Gerrard's hands they took,  
Right judas-like their own damnation:  
First for their oath of secrecy a book,  
Whereon they swore firm resolution:  
And to confirm it with a stronger band,  
Received the Sacrament from Gerrard's hand.   

OH heavens, o earth, o impious age and times, 
The Oath. You shall swear by the blessed Trinity and by the Sacrament you 〈◊〉 purpose to re●i●e, never to disclose directly or indirectly, by word or circumstance the matter that shall be proposed to you to keep secret, nor desist from the execution thereof, until the rest shall give you leave.   
OH graceless, godless, more than devilish fact▪  
Were ere yet known such blasphemous fowl crimes,  
So damnably t'abuse that heavenly act  
Of man's terrestrial comfort, confirmation  
Of faith, of grace, and of our blessed salvation.   

OH who hath any spark of true devotion,  
Or ardent zeal of Gods most sacred truth,  
Who, which to piety hath but lest motion,  
Can hear Rome's blasphemies without much ruth,  
Those most apparent marks of Babel's Whore  
So truly, justly prophetized of yore.   

Nay will you yet hear more impiety,  
And equal almost to the greatest of these;  
Inhuman Catesby's devilish policy  
Willed him to cast in mind, how to appease  
There discontent, if any should arise  
About the warrant of this enterprise.   

For why, he now considered in his mind,  
The great and bloody slaughter they should make:  
And that he could no means contrive or find.  
But that therein friends must with foes partake:  
The lawfulness hereof since some might doubt,  
And so perchance revolt, or else stand out.   

With haste he hies to his Achitophel,  
Grand-Iesuite Garnet his advice to have,  
That outside Angel, inside Devil of hell,  
To whom he knew they special credit gave:  
Whose answer if it to his mind did hit,  
He knew all was cocksure and firmly fit.   

Than in this sort to Garnet he began,  
OH holy Sir, whose gravity and years,  
Whose learning, wisdom, discreet counsel can  
Resolve all doubts, dissolve heart-daunting fears,  
In whom Rome's sacro-sancted Oracles,  
Are powerful in effecting miracles.   

Vice-Vicar to our Deified Father,  
Highpriest of England, sent here to reduce,  
To reunite into Rome's fold, to gather  
The wandering flock, withheld thence by abuse  
Of cursed Caluins, Beza's, Luther's Sect,  
Which damnably their souls do daily infect.   

OH thou, I say, Vicegerent to our Pope,  
I much desire, gladly would impetrate,  
Thy holy Counsel in a doubtful hope,  
In a great Action, which to perpetrate,  
Many of us devoted Catholics  
Have joined & sworn ourselves against Heretics.   

Rome's sacred zeal hath so inflamed our hearts,  
To right her wrongs, her losses to restore,  
To vulnerate with penetrating darts  
Of dire destruction, those which heretofore  
Have the brave lustre of Rome's faith suppressed,  
And too too long opposed her holy Hest.   

And now, I say, considering this great wrong,  
And how 'tis likeliest worse and worse to grow:  
We vow to work our freedom ere't be long,  
To give our foes one fatal final blow:  
Wherewith their souls and bodies shall be sent,  
By Sulphur fierce to Pluto's regiment.   

But herein, holy Sir, the doubt remains,  
Wherein your ghostly counsel we desire;  
That time and place this action so constrains,  
That all at once must perish in one fire,  
The doubt therefore which in us doth arise,  
Is, whether friends may die with enemies.   

Whether with Nocents, Innocents' may die  
(For in the destined place both mingled are)  
We cannot, may not with security,  
The one without the other save or spare:  
Yet on this acts effecting doth depend  
Of Rome's great wrongs the happy hopeful end.   

This Pseudo-postle full of Romish zeal,  
traveling with iniquities conception,  
Brought forth the Imp of mischief: thus doth heal  
Base Catesby's sore. Hear now his strange direction,  
Hear o ye Heavens, hearken both God and Man,  
How holily this Baal's Priest began.   

First with accursed salutes they often embrace,  
Hyena with the crafty Crocodile:  
And then with poisonous heart and brazen face,  
He utters words most impious full of guile:  
With green device, not grave advice thus spoke  
This holy Hellhound, horrible Mandrake,   

O thou dear darling of the Church of Rome,  
Hopeful Protector of St. Peter's chair,  
Which so high honour dost to thee assume,  
As by a fact so meritorious rare,  
To be condignly saintified and graced,  
And highest in Rome's rubrickes to be placed.   

Thou Atlas of our now succeeding joys,  
Matchless Maecenas of Rome's doctrind rare,  
Herculean chaser of our dire annoys,  
Perillus' th'engineer may not compare  
With skilful Catesby Arts-Master of Treason:  
For stratagems past human reach and reason.   

I cannot choose but like and love thee dearly,  
Thou apt proficient in Rome's document:  
And yet much marvel thou couldst not see clearly,  
Of so rare enterprise so blest intent,  
The strong inducements to perseverance,  
Not to desist for some ill petty-chance.   

I see, thou art not yet so inly seen  
Into the Doctrine of us jesuits:  
Thy knowledge therein yet seems raw and green,  
That makest monsters of such little mites.  
That in smooth bulrushes dost seek a knot,  
Like Questionists who ask they know not what.   

This case is most apparent, clear and plain,  
That since th'occasion, time and place require  
Such expedition, and such precious gain,  
And great advantage Rome shall hence acquire,  
You may most justly by the Laws of Rome,  
Some Innocents' with Nocents vile consume.   

And herein thee most strongly to instruct,  
And to repel all objects in that kind:  
That none 'gainst this assertion may reluct,  
That in thy Creed it may more credit find:  
Mark this comparison which thou shalt hear,  
Wherein this truth shall clear as Sun appear,   

As in a City by fierce foes besieged,  
Wherein some friends inhabit and abide,  
Whom those besiegers are in love obliged,  
Yet how to free them there's no means espied,  
Delays would breed dangers inevitable,  
The City also prove unvanquishable.   

Should they not then from wise discretion swerver?  
Should they not to their foes base dastards seem?  
While in fond pity few friends to preserve,  
They a whole City loose for friends esteem?  
If then to th'Church great profit may redound,  
You fearless may some friends with foes confounded.   

And as for me the best which I can do,  
Which is, my prayers and Orisons devout,  
That heaven may herein bless and favour you,  
I duly truly for you will power out;  
And all our Saints, and meritorious Martyrs  
Implore, to aid you and your zealous partners.   

OH most pernicious Priest, o Scythian Sect,  
Is this the charity you all profess?  
Do you with blood, your followers thus infect?  
Your false conceived wrongs thus to redress?  
Now how this jesuits censure doth agreed  
With jesus Doctrine, you shall plainly see.   

When God with sinful flesh vouchsafed to talk,  
Did he not unto faithful Abraham say?  
That if in Sodom: he could find ten folk  
That upright were: his vengeance he would stay,  
And for their sakes on all he'd mercy show,  
But ghostly Garnet was more wise than so.   

Did not the heavenly Husbandman decree?  
Considering how with wheat grew up the tare,  
How intricate a business then 'twould be  
The weed to pluck up, and the Wheat to spare,  
Therefore gave charge to let them both alone  
But of this Husbandry Garnet would none.   

Doth not St. Paul, doth not all Scripture teach? 
Non facienda sunt mala ut eveniant bona.   
That none ill aught be done, though thence may rise  
A greater good, but what though Paul thus preach?  
Loiolae's Priests are now grown far more wise:  
For if that any good to th'Church may grow  
They hold it lawful to kill friend or foe.   

Was it not Mercies Majesty and joy?  
Waste not our blessed saviours comfort great?  
That none of his did suffer lest annoy,  
Not one was lost, he all did well entreat:  
Adding moreover that he came to save,  
Not to destroy, whom God unto him gave.   

If Christ's blessed kingdom of this world had been,  
Legions of Angels he might have commanded;  
But Antigona Christ, great Babel's Man of Sin  
Must here be Lord, and King, and richly landed:  
Peter must not once strike in Christ's defence,  
But Popish-Priests may use all violence.   

OH saith our Saviour, Love your enemies,  
For Persecutors pray, bless them that curse:  
But you than Christ would seem to be more wise,  
Or rather than unholy Pagans' worse:  
For Pagans' love their friends, you would us slay  
Which favour you, and for your soul's health pray.   

You are so far from praying for our good  
(Such is your fiery burning charity)  
That you had rather pray upon our blood,  
With more than Cannibals barbarity,  
O is it possible such wrath should rest,  
In Rome's un-erring Popes most sacred breast? 
Tantaene animis caelestibus ira?    

But why of Christ and Scripture do we talk?  
To those Ignatian wicked Regicîdes,  
Who (maugre all Truth's arguments) will walk  
In their own bloody paths what ere betides:  
They'll hazard life, soul, body, goods and all,  
To work their wills most Diabolical.   

O what Religion call you this I pray?  
Can any give a proper Epithet?  
Unto this doctrine, or these Doctor's gay,  
Incarnate Devils, seeming-Saints of light,  
Who not themselves alone to Hell thus throw,  
But many thousands cause with them to go?   

These doubtless are those latter days foretold,  
Of Satan's reign, and powerful tyranny:  
Who lik'st himself, shall thus men's hearts even mould  
Into all forms of strangest villainy.  
But Lord we pray thee, still preserve thy flock,  
And all Rome's mischiefs, frustrate, thwart, & mock.   

Things thus contrived for Rome, Fauks privily  
Is shipped away: to th'Pope he hasts with speed:  
To whom their labours he doth signify  
From first to last, how all things did proceed.  
His Holiness his treacherous Son commended,  
Persuades perseverance till all were ended.   

Assures success and fortunate conclusion:  
And so dismissed him with a bounteous gift,  
Moore amply fraught with precepts of confusion  
And rapid Tigris-like he flies full swift,  
Visits his ancient friends and old acquaintance  
I'th' Duke of Austria's Court with welcomed entrance   

Whereas he meets with many Fugitives, 
Sir William Stanley & Master Owen. Sir Ed: Bainham, notorious traitors and fugitives in the Low Countries.   
And banished shavelings of our English nation:  
Questioning how each thing in England thrives,  
Greedy to hear of change and alteration:  
With sanguinary Nero who desire  
Their Country's glory extinct with sword and fire.   

Monsters of men like those which love to angle  
In rivers billowing by fierce Borea's blast,  
Which love to live by discord, strife and wrangle,  
This their best pastime, this their chief repast:  
These, these I say, pricked forward him that ran,  
And contribute to help what he began.   

Furnishing him with counsel as with coin,  
His heart they fill with cunning, craft, and guile,  
Brother● in mischief heads and hearts do join  
His heart to hatch, his tongue to lie they file,  
They teach him how with Demonology  
To hide the platform of this treachery.   

Like furious Hag he home returns with speed  
And to his Mr. Piercy doth unfold  
His good success, prays that they might proceed  
With expedition, and with courage bold.  
For he was filled with all the Arts and Arms  
That Rome could yield, or Acherontine charms.   

And now they having with blasphemous hearts  
(As is foreshown,) received the Sacrament,  
And ta'en an oath boldly to act their parts, 
Which was done in a house behind St. Clement's Church by the Strand.   
To here Plutonicke-Masse, incontinent  
They them prepare, which done, they all desire  
Now to proceed, to build this furious fire.   

And hereupon some choice men they elect  
Whose charge should be, to dig and undermine  
The Parliament, who that they might neglect  
No time, provided baked meats, beer and wine,  
That so they might not often go in and out,  
Fauks at the door being Sentinel or scout.   

Who still discovered all that passed by,  
And as he saw occasion, warning gave  
Sometime to work, sometime to lay it by,  
And by their sides their Pieces charged they have:  
Resolving there to die, if so it happed,  
That by discovery they should be entrapped.   

These pioneers through Piercies chamber brought  
Th'exhausted earth, great baskets full of clay:  
Thereby t'have made a mighty concave vaued,  
And of the house the groundwork took away:  
But then at last an obstacle they find,  
Which to remove proud Piercy casts in's mind. 
This was the most happy chance that did or could fall out for the discovery of this plot, as afterward is most apparently seen and approved.    

A thick stone wall their passage then did let,  
Whereby they could not finish their intent:  
Than forthwith Piercy did a seller get,  
Under that sacred house for yearly rend:  
Feigning to filled with Charcoal, Wood and Beer  
From all suspect themselves to cloak and clear.   

Hear now they did consider Catesby's charge,  
How all that while the cost on him had lyen:  
Wherhfore to show their love and bounty large,  
For due effecting of this foul design:  
Sir Euerard Digby promised to bestow  
Five hundred pounds, that all things well might go.   

Than traitorous Tressam his great zeal t'express,  
Unto this work of Popish Piety  
Two thousand pounds would have in readiness,  
To be employed in each necessity:  
Percy to pierce the eye of this our state,  
Doth also promise he'll associate   

And bear a part, in this so rare collection:  
And from Northumberlands great rents would get  
Four thousand pounds at lest with due direction  
All things in order to dispose and set.  
Others would Horse and Armour there provide,  
Others procure an Army 'gainst the tide.   

Wherewith they might eradicate and stroy  
With fury great, the Protestant's surviving,  
Yea all that would Christ's verity enjoy  
Of liberty, of lands, of life depriving:  
Such was the hatred of this holy brood,  
Such the effect of their nefarious mood.   

Among them then was this objection made,  
That since as they all hoped the Prince would be  
I'th' Parliament: how best might be assayed  
The next Heir to suprize: but Percy he  
Soon freed them of this fear, and undertook,  
With his bold mates to seize on Charles then Duke.   

Next how to get into their custody  
(OH hellish Guardians) Lady Elizabeth:  
Who at Lord Harringtons as then did lie,  
Not being far remote from Dunchurch-Heath  
Where they a Hunt would covertly pretend,  
And friends there meeting, might that danger end.   

Lastly, they all consult and take advice  
What English Lords and Noblemen to save:  
And then what foreign Prince they might entice,  
Who of this Kingdom might possession have:  
Of these and all these circumstances they  
Firmly resolved against the appointed day.   

Each thing thus happening to their hearts desire,  
The final, fatal Act to Fauks committed,  
Whom we not Man, but Fury of hell fire  
May ever term, a title best befitted.  
This ghastly Ghost-like monster night by night  
To th'cellar goes, all things to order right.   

Than do these damned disciples of deceit  
Most wickedly place in this hollow vaued  
Small firkins, all with Gunpowder replete,  
Barrels and Hogsheads, all with Sulphur fraught:  
Placing some here, somethere, laying thereupon  
Great Iron-bars right under the King's throne.   

And to prevent the danger of suspect.  
This Carnifox with foul Medea's guile,  
That none these Stygian engines might detect,  
Great store of billets thereupon doth pile  
And faggots, thus the barrels so to hide,  
That they could not without great search be spied.   

Now having framed this Chaos of confusion,  
This sevenfold heated furnace of proud Rome:  
The fift day of November for conclusion,  
They now expect, for England's fatal doom:  
And now this ravening, 
* Fauks.  Wolf with hungry jaws  
Greedily gapes to gripe us in his claws.   

Thus than he stands prepared to perpetrate  
A more than barbarous most inhuman fact:  
The like could never Catelines great hate  
'Gainst Rome attempt, with hot Cet●egus hacked.  
Nor arrogant ambitious Hamans' thought  
Against the Hebrews like despite have wrought.   

Inferior far to this transcendent treason  
Was the Sicilian woeful ●uen song.  
The Massacre at Paris with great reason  
Comes far behind this project. And among  
The best Chronographers thou near shalt find  
A fact so foul, so cruel and unkind.   

Not barbarous Scythia, nor Tartary wild  
Did ever here, or see, or enterprise  
A plot more impious, horrible and wild  
Than which a worse could Pluto ne'er devise,  
Nor such a palpable Aegyption fog  
Have raised, to rear Rome's faithless Synagogus.   

Wherein they hoped a Kingdom to devour  
Like un-resistible, remorseless waves:  
At once, with one blow, in less than one hour  
To make i'th' empty air the tombs and grues  
Of our dread King, the Queen, the Prince our joy  
And Princely Olive branches thus to stroy.   

Of peerless Peers, and chief Nobility,  
Lycurgus' Sons, our justices and judges,  
The Sons of Levi, our most reverend Clergy,  
To whom indeed our foes bear greatest grudges.  
The flower of Gentry, yea from Commonweal,  
Death and destruction should all comfort steal.   

The greatest part of our accomplished Knights,  
Our commonwealths men, prudent Burgesses,  
Each skilful Clerk and Officer that writes  
The Parliament important businesses:  
Most of the soundest Lawyers in this Land,  
Had altogether perished out of hand.   

Nay not these reasonable souls alone  
Should in this roaring thundering plague have died,  
Without all difference or distinction  
Of mean, or mighty, flock or princely guide,  
Of Majesty or Honour, Sex or Age,  
Such was the horror of Rome's wrath and rage.   

But many senseless creatures they had meant  
To make partakers of this mischief great,  
Our famous ancient house of Parliament,  
Westminster-hall, fair Euglands' judgement seat:  
The Church wherein Kings had their Coronation,  
All turned to ashes by this conflagration.   

The Church I say, wherein the Tombs most rare  
Of former famous Kings and Princes high,  
Were with most precious curious cost and care  
From age to age erected gloriously,  
As endless Trophies of triumphant reign,  
All these mustfall, and naught but dust remain.   

Yea all the marks of Britain's royal State,  
The Crown of England, Sceptre, Sword and Mace,  
Records and Charters which appropriate  
To all their portion, honour, right and place:  
OH woeful, ruthful, these had been Rome's prey,  
In this sulphureous, furious hell's doomsday.   

So horrid and exorbitant a plot,  
Doubtless the tongue of man did never tell,  
Man's eyes did near behold so foul a spot  
Norfolk did like wrath in human heart ere devil,  
Nay all the Furies of the infernal pit,  
Can never such contagious poison spit.   

So rare a King, so rare a Queen to kill,  
So rare a Prince, so rare a Progeny,  
So rare a State, with so much ruth to fill,  
So rare a Realm to bring to misery,  
Whom all the World admires, beloved of all  
Whom none but Pope and Papist wish to fall.   

If a mean man to slay be execrable,  
If to shed blood be called a crying sin:  
O then how much more odious detestable,  
Had this most monstrous matchless murder been?  
This more than crying, yea this roaring Crime,  
Unparalleled, unpatterned by all Time.   

These thus destroyed, what is the Realm but dead?  
Without a head dismembered bodies die:  
And as the silly Hare without all dread,  
Securely thinks within his Form to lie,  
Whom when the Countryman asleep doth find,  
With his Plough-staff he kills with eager mind. 
Simile.    

Even so Rome's cruel bloody Dragon had  
Obliterated England's name and Nation,  
Her glorious beauty, Babel would have clad  
In sable mourning, woe and lamentation:  
So huge a throat had this foul monstr' of Rome,  
Christ's flock at once to swallow and consume.   

Who thus at one (indeed fierce Catholic blow)  
Had Nero's most inhuman wish effected,  
Namely that all our English heads might grow  
Upon one body, and who then expected  
Not a whole year, a Month, week, day, but hour,  
To strike off all those Heads with Romish power.   

Yea, as it were with one loud thunderclap,  
as with a Pettard fiercely to break ope,  
Our peaceful gate of janus, and to entrap,  
Of all our Halcyon days of joy, the Hope,  
With more than cannibals bloodthirsty mood,  
Deeming than mans-flesh nothing sweeter food.   

O who is able to articulate?  
The several sorrows of that dismal day,  
Or who can lively paint, or personate  
These vile Neronians? vaunting in the pray,  
Triumphing with the Trophies and the spoil  
Of their destroyed Kingdom, native soil.   

Not though I had an hundred tongues and hearts,  
T'indite and tell th'extent of their intention,  
Both heart and tongue would fail to do their parts,  
With Sense and Science of so strange invention:  
Yea learned Homer doubtless would refuse  
A task so great, so grievous for to choose.   

For why? me thinks would then have fresh been shown,  
Distressed conquered Troy with flames a burning,  
London, I mean, Great Britain's Princely throne,  
spoiled and abused, replete with moan and mourning:  
The wealthiest City Europe ere enjoyed,  
With Aetnean furious flames burnt and destroyed.   

Her walls with rammed ruptures rend and torn,  
Her stately Turrets, high Pyramids,  
Demolished and beaten down, as quite forlorn,  
Her streets with Soldiers filled, none them t'appease:  
Than Mars usurping mild Astrea's room,  
Their swords, not words, must give the fatal doom.   

In streets great streams of blood like rivers run,  
Through houses and through sanctified places:  
Great nulls and cries, help, help, we are undone,  
Women with blubbering tears bedrench their faces,  
Wring their hands, and running up and down,  
Fearfully frighted with their Foemen's frown.   

Mothers into their arms their Infants taking,  
With brinish tears kissing their tender cheeks:  
Children in parents' arms trembling and quaking,  
Houses to ring with Damsels woeful nulls,  
Aged men murdered, young men stricken dead,  
wives widows made, chaste maidens ravished.   

This corollary also let me add,  
Which greater cause of grief might justly bring:  
That no man had been left in mourning clad,  
At London's obsequies a knell to ring  
Of Lamentation, to condole her fall,  
Which was Great Britain's seat Imperial.   

For, this was doubtless their infernal drift,  
The King (proh dolour) counsellors and State,  
Being (alas) confounded) they would shifted  
The blame and shame on those whom most they hate.  
A Villai●e falsely should proclaim as truth,  
That Puritan were authors of this ruth.   

So that in every Country, Town and City,  
(O most unparalleled, most wicked wile)  
All that were godly given without all pity,  
Should be destroyed, as malefactors vile:  
Yea desperately they would with sword and fire,  
All godly men confounded with damned ire.   

Doubtless this was a craft raked out of Hell  
By Devilish Furies, framed not by men:  
So fowl a crime, so falsely to repel  
From guilty on the guiltless, and o then  
With perjured marble hearts, and brazen face,  
By impious lies God's people to disgrace.   

To glut themselves, like Anthropophagis,  
With blood of men holy and innocent;  
Our state to make a woeful Anarchy,  
Their corrupt cankered mischief thus to vent:  
If Devils they were not, yet without all doubt,  
This plot by devilish men was brought about.   

He that can number all the drops in showers,  
Which from the Pleyades and moist Orion fell;  
Or Bees of thousand swarms which suck May flowers,  
In England then the tears had fallen might tell,  
Beyond the Arctic and Antarcticke Poles  
May this fact fly, and stand in lasting rolls.   

But now behold, God most omnipotent,  
Maker, maintainer of the circled Globe,  
Whose seats in heaven above the firmament,  
With majesty being clothed, as with a rob:  
His Israel's careful Keeper, Shepheard great,  
Who man's affairs beholds from heavenly seat.   

Th'omniscient knowledge, and allseeing eyes  
Of whom, doth all things every wherefore know  
What ere is done, under the starry skies,  
In deepest Seas, or ponderous earth below:  
Who knows the closest and most secret deed,  
Whose sight doth feigned Lynxes far exceed.   

Who is the Seacher of the reins and heart,  
To whom seditious slaughter of his Saints,  
All craft and cozenage wrought by human Art,  
Are most apparent, and who hears the plants  
Of his dear Sons, dispersed, despised, forlorn,  
Delighteth in the just, th'unjust doth scorn.   

He, he, I say, in mercy did behold  
From his supernal and tribunal seat,  
The miseries and mischiefs manifold,  
Wherewith Great Britain's King his foes did threat:  
Thus to his glorious Angel with sweet voice,  
His will unfolds, which they to do rejoice.   

You (saith jehoub) now shall understand,  
How that the crafty Hunter Satan, proud  
With Cholcos spells and spite, hath ta'en in hand  
Great Britain's spoil to spoil, yea and hath vowed  
To root out of the earth the English Nation,  
Who to our Name performetrue adoration,   

Which, If he should accordingly achieve,  
The monstrous 
* Antichrist.  Beast would salve her deadly sore:  
Babel would her dead hopes again revive,  
And re-erect a stews for her great Whore:  
Than Rome the Mistress of enormity,  
Would bask herself in Sins deformity.   

Than also would the Prophecies of old  
Seem (and that justly) clean annihilated:  
Which of Rome's downfall formerly have told,  
And that this 
* Antichrist.  Beast should sure be captivated:  
All these (I say) might hereby frustrate seem,  
And thus my people me forgetful deem.   

Wherhfore I purpose with all expedition,  
This hasty hateful enterprise to stop,  
To promulgate and thwart this their ambition,  
Of this rank rising weed the flowers to crop:  
And though my wrath England's great sins deserve,  
Yet for my name's sake I will them preserve.   

Although (I say) England's ingratitude,  
Doth my rich mercies carelessly abuse,  
Deserving thereby pains amaritude:  
Yet will I not permit this Beast to use  
My sword of power, nor give those 
* Traitors.  Imps my right;  
But speedily in wrath their pride I'll smite.   

This God of mercy, just man's consolation,  
To show to us his love and bounty large,  
With most ineffable commiseration,  
A heavenly Angel forthwith gives in charge,  
To Albion's Kingdom with swift course to fly;  
And in his sleep the King to certify.   

How many dangers he's involved into,  
How many infectious Snakes in's Court do lurk:  
Which him and's peaceful Kingdom would undo,  
And to that end what snares and 'gins they work:  
Wish him be circumspect, the 
* The Parliament house.  place refrain,  
Where julius Caesar treacherously was slain.   

Like Sampsons' house they purpose to pull down  
His Kingdom, all at once about his ears:  
Their impious plotted Protasis doth frown,  
And their Epitasis intent great fears:  
But both of these he joyfully shall see  
Transmuted to a blessed Catastrophè.   

Than to the Lord Mounteagle haste with speed,  
To whom these Traitors have a caution sent  
In friendly sort, to monish him take heed,  
That from this Senate he himself absent:  
For why (say they) both God and Man agreed,  
By a fierce blast their foes destroyed to see.   

And that he should into the Country high,  
And there that woeful spectacle expect:  
And for his safety and security,  
That none the danger might see or suspect,  
They wished him having read, the Letter burn,  
That so it might not to his danger turn.   

Him thou shalt warn his duty to perform,  
His King and Country's weal and heal to further:  
And of this peril his dread King t'inform,  
That he may scape this direful dreadful murder,  
Which that same Letter mystically meant  
Without a name but not a blessed event.   

Than from great jove doth winged Minerva fly,  
And ere bright Titan on th'Iberian flood  
Had banished Cynthia from the spangled sky,  
This blessed Messenger, with message good,  
Arrived upon the coasts of Britain fair,  
His charge to discharge duly doth prepare.   

Who noble morley's heart doth first inflame  
With honest care, and diligent desire  
Of his dear King and countries health and fame  
And doth the King's heart graciously inspire  
With judgement most profound, the knot t'vntie  
(Like Oedipus) of this Aenigma high,   

For thus the Lord in's all protecting grace,  
Ten days before the Parliament began,  
Ordained, that one of that most traitorous race,  
Did meet the Lord Mounteagles' serving-man,  
Who about seven a clock at night was sent  
Upon some errand, and as thus he went,   

Crossing the street a fellow to him came,  
A man to him unknown, of parsonage tall,  
In's hand a Letter, and he gave the same  
Unto this serving-man, and therewithal  
Did strictly charge him to take special heed,  
To give it into's Master's hand with speed.   

The Footman home unto his Lord did high,  
Gave him the Letter, told him how 'twas brought,  
Which soon he opens, but could not espy,  
Or date, or name subscribed, the hand but nought,  
And hardly legible, wherefore his man  
He calls to help him read, which thus began.   
THE LETTER.  
MY Lord,  
out of the love I bear to some of your friends; I have a care of your preservation, therefore I would advise you, as you tender your life, to devise some excuse to shifted off your attendence at this Parliament. For God and Man have concurred to punish the wickedness of this time, and think not slightly of this advertisement, but retire yourself into your Country, where you may expect the event in safety. For though there be no appearance of any stir, yet I say they shall receive a Terrible Blow this Parliament, and yet they shall not see who hurts them. This counsel is not to be contemned, because it may do you good, and can do you no harm, for the danger is passed so soon as you have burnt the Letter. And I hope God will give you the grace to make use of it: To whose holy protection I commend you.  

These strange contents his thoughts much discontent,  
A thousand cogitations hence arise:  
What fact? what friend? what this Aenigma meant?  
What my stick danger these words might disguise?  
Or whether 'twere some addle idle brain,  
That this had writ, to 'cause him thence refrain.   

If it should prove a fond fantastic toy,  
To stir therein would turn to his disgrace:  
But if it should include some dire annoy  
Unto his person, or that sacred place  
Of Parliament, he then might prove disloyal,  
he's loath, and yet desires to make a trial.   

Wherhfore, at last, as is fore-specified,  
God's sacred Angel Messenger of grace,  
To his perplexed thoughts this cure applied,  
And willed him this occasion to embrace,  
And in his heart kindled a zealous flame,  
Not to conceal, but to reveal the same.   

Thrice noble Morley (quoth this Angel bright)  
Whom Heaven hath vouched worthy this great honour,  
That thou shouldst be the man shall bring to light,  
Thy King and countries threatened woe and horror;  
By that usurping whorish Beast of Rome,  
Who Albion's Island hopes now to consume.   

OH stand not doubting, pondering in thy mind,  
Whether this be a toy or true report,  
A truth, a happy truth, thou here shalt find  
Of woe and wrack, to Country and to Court.  
If thou it hide, a world of woes ensue,  
If thou reveal it, honour be thy due.   

And though this Letter seemeth most obscure,  
Like great Apollo's Delphean Mystery,  
Yet I a joseph, Daniel will procure,  
T'untwine the twist of its obscurity:  
Since in thy hands then lies both weal and woe,  
Haste, haste with speed, in Court this Letter show.   

This happy motion drives out former doubt,  
In this right noble Lord Mount eagles heart:  
Who now resolves t'examine and find out  
The truth hereof, and forthwith to departed:  
And though it were both dirty, dark and late,  
Yet he the time will not procrastinate.   

But like a noble Eagle having catched  
A rich, a princely prey, aloft he sores,  
he's not at quiet till he have dispatched  
This great affairs: He Heavens great aid implores,  
To auspicate and grant a blissful end,  
To this most anxious act he did intent.   

And thus with loyal heart away he goes,  
Thereto resolved what ever should betide:  
To th' Court he went this matter to disclose,  
To th'earl of Salsb'ryes' chamber soon he hide,  
Wither heavens finger doubtless him directed,  
As the best means to have this fact detected.   

To this Ulysses he the Letter shows,  
He th'other Counsel, they in doubtful wise  
Possess the King therewith, who straightway goes  
Together with them thereof to take advise:  
Each one propounds his judgement severally,  
As in a case of great anxiety.   

One thinks it was some idle vain conceit,  
Another he is of the self same mind,  
Others do judge it did some danger threat,  
None could the right way of this labyrinth find:  
Not one of them could dive to th'depth & ground,  
None could this obscure my stick riddle expound.   

At last our prudent King, Apollo's Son,  
Fair England's joseph, weighing with discretion  
Each circumstance, unto them thus begun,  
Our judgements must take yet more deep impression,  
This is no trivial work or fantasy,  
But must be sifted with great scrutiny.   

I well remember, and you all do know,  
That little smoke being at first depressed  
Doth mighty fires (though hid) at length forth show;  
And in this grass some Serpent foul doth rest,  
Or else I am deceived: for to my mind  
Now comes that 
* Magna licet nunquam n●cuit cautela Monarchis.  rumour of the Romists blind.   

Whose Genius guided by Erynnis vile  
Never pull down the black flag of dissension,  
But what with threats, poisons, deceit and guile,  
They practise to effect their foul intention,  
Plodding and plotting as a most just thing,  
By jesuits principles to kill their King.   

No doubt but here is framed some Engine strange,  
Some second Trojan horse, or traitorous train?  
Or else about us doth some jesuite range,  
Who would his hands in our dear heartblood stain:  
Some monstrous Machination (credit me)  
Is in this letter couched privily.   

'tis not the froth of fickle, brittle, brain,  
But Hieroglyphic of black treachery:  
In that he prays his friend thus to refrain  
From coming thither: and in haste to fly,  
Yea farther, he great danger menaceth,  
A sudden, terrible, fierce stroke of death.   

Which with great Wonder, like a thunderclap  
Should on their foes precipitately fall:  
Unless by Gunpowder this thing may hap,  
Naught else so likely I to mind can call:  
an't may be they'll abuse that hellish Art,  
To our great ruin and ensuing smart.   

Therefore most loyal Sirs I much desire  
To be resolved, and truly t'understand  
Who the adjacent houses hold or hire  
To our great Capitol, what cellars and  
What arched vaults there are under the ground,  
Let secret search be made, the truth out found.   

Than strait Lord Chamberlain with others more,  
Makes careful inquisition of each thing:  
What houses, who them held, what cellars low,  
Of each particular resolves the King:  
Percy (saith he) dwell's there and hath a vault,  
With wood and charcoal plentifully fraught.   

Hence presently, greater suspicion grows,  
And Wise Sir Thomas Kneuet that good Knight,  
Was given in charge the matter to disclose,  
Who on the fourth day of Novembr i'th' night  
Perlustrated each doubtful part and place,  
And did each thing uncover and uncase.   

And lest hereby suspicion might have grown,  
They feigned to seek out stolen vestments:  
Where first he findeth Guido Fauks alone  
Devil of that Den, ordering his instruments,  
Booted and spurred then standing at the door,  
Having dispatched his task little before.   

Having as then, I say, in order placed  
His all-disordering fuming Aetna's pit:  
Which should his causeless country quite have razed,  
And all her stately towers in sunder split.  
He apprehends him, grasps and clasps his hands,  
With hempen cords, and then no longer stands.   

But quickly enter; this infernal Cell,  
And trustily pulls down the piles of wood,  
But sudden fright this Knight did daunt and quell,  
For why, his servants as he searching stood,  
Cry out, alas, this wood doth powder hide,  
For I two hogsheads full have here espid'e.   

Let us search further, for we more shall find  
Amongst these billets placed privily:  
O treason past the reach of mortal mind,  
O hateful, unheard, strange conspiracy:  
Than more and more they speedily find out,  
And thereby prove the truth of former doubt.   

Than thirty barrels more with Sulphur filled,  
And two great hogsheads ere they ceased they found,  
Now Fauks to search he his attendants willed,  
Which did his treacherous heart with envy wound:  
For from his neck a Crucifix they snatch,  
A shirt of hair he wore his skin to scratch.   

From forth his pocket then the Match they took  
Which should have raised Chimera's Minotaures,  
From hell to earth, yea and with horrid-looke station,  
The Gorgon's, Hags, Alecto's, Semitaures:  
Which would have brought Vulcan from's hellish  
To work in Aetna doleful desolation.   

Wherewith, he vowed to stroy and clean put out,  
Th'illustrious fame of famous Albion:  
Whose peace and plenty, strength and valour stout  
In fair Europa will give place to none:  
This glorious Realm i'th' twinkling of an eye,  
He would have robbed of all her royalty.   

Yea with such unheard craft they did contrive  
This treason, and concealed so secretly,  
That but poor twelve houres-England should survive  
From this fierce blow, whose echoing roar would fly  
Louder than Nile rushing from rocky coombe,  
Or than Encelade when he shakes his tomb.   

The project crossed, their flower of hope thus cropped,  
The Traitor's self the fact confessed, but said  
He grieved most to see his will so stopped,  
And that but this, naught should his hand have staid.  
OH heart more hard than judas, Pharaohs, Caines,  
OH cursed religion which man's soul so banes.   

They hearing this, do thus in grief burst out,  
Hear o ye heavens, tremble o earth below,  
Was ever seen or known the world about  
A deed so strange, prodigious? nay we know,  
That even the heart of Turkey or Barbary  
Like monstrous mischief never did descry.   

To which the bloody butchery in France,  
By Popish Edomites made on Christ's flock  
Is unequivalent, gives but a glance  
(Respecting this) of Rome's rebellious stock:  
Whose memory much dim's each former slaughter,  
Disgrace of this, and of all age hereafter.   

The unheard horror whereof may appear 
An aggravation from the incomparable cruelty of the fact.   
In these six circumstances which here follow:  
First, if they had adjudged us to bear  
By reasonable creatures, deaths great sorrow,  
If men by men should have been deaths fierce fuel, 
1   
The fact had been more human, far less cruel.   

For why? there had been hope by force or fence,  
By tears or treats some pity to obtain:  
Yea mitigation of their violence:  
Even in the Act their fury to restrain:  
As to heavens glory our dread King did find  
In Gowries' treason cruel and unkind. 
The Armed man in the closet which was set to kill his Majesty.    

Or, if by any other brutish Animals  
Though they then men are far more pitiless,  
Inexorable, at our woeful calls 
2   
Would us devour with beast like greediness:  
This kind of death indeed had been more fierce,  
Yet here were hope Death's sentence to reverse.   

For why by force, or pleasurable cause,  
There may evasion, mercy often be found:  
To scape the furious fangs▪ and crushing claws  
Of fiercest Lions penetrating wound.  
Daniel i'th' Den, the 
* Androdus  Roman in the Cave,  
Samson, 
* Richard the first, surnamed Cor de Lion.  Ring Richard o'er them conquest have.   

Again, which is most cruel of the three  
By things insensible, inanimate,  
To which all groans all moans must frustrate be, 
3   
Being senseless of themselves, most of our state:  
By these (alas) to perish and decay,  
No hope, no help, naught can their fury stay.   

Besides observe, that of all senseless things,  
Those two fierce Elements, Water and Fire  
Are most devouring, great'st confusion brings,  
By their represselesse and resistless ire:  
Whose inundations, all-confounaing flames,  
Orewhelms whole Realms, makes dust of rarest frames.   

Add yet this one material observation,  
Which to this purpose here may noted be;  
Farther t' extend this endless aggravation,  
That all men may their hellish mischief see:  
Of these two all-quick-eating elements,  
By fire we have most grievous detriments.   

For, though the Waters hugely overflow,  
Drown man and beasts, and all things in their source:  
Yet when into their bounds they backward go,  
All things remain in substance little worse:  
Although the life and beauty be quite lost,  
Yet lifeless most things bide within their coast.   

But when or wheresoever the fires fierce rage  
Takes hold on houses, Palaces or Places,  
On shepherds cottage, or rich heritage,  
Of gold, or treasure, all it quite out-races:  
cartel and Corn, all together thrust,  
Are all consumed, naught left but dross and dust.   

Therefore that we by fire should be consumed,  
Yea and of fires the fiercest most outrageous,  
By puffing powder unto death thus doomed,  
A death so desperate, bloody, and contagious:  
OH speak (alas) what hope was of redemption  
From this so mortal mischievous consumption?   

Not tears (alas) could here a jot prevail,  
For why (o woe) no time for tears was given:  
Not strength was able, no power to assail,  
With such strange violence they had been driven:  
Not mortal might, might stay this mortal blow,  
No power protect us from this monstrous woe.   

Not means I say less than a miracle,  
And that immediately from Gods own hand:  
Such as is mentioned in the Oracle  
Of sacred Scriptures, when heaven did command  
That Babylonian fiery furnace power,  
That it could not once touch, much less devour.   

That rare pare-royall of true Piety,  
Sweet Shedrach, Mesach, and Abednago:  
True worshippers of heavens Deity  
In whom the Lord did such a wonder show:  
And certainly such was to us God's grace,  
And we well nigh in as like dangerous case.   

But blessed, o thrice blessed Trin-one Lord,  
Our powerful, and most pitiful protector,  
Thy endless praise we ever shall record;  
OH our most holy, glorious, just director:  
The gracious smiles of thy preventing pity,  
Makes blest Hosanna be our joyful ditty.   

Hear may we not omit this observation:  
Namely, the great impossibility  
Of hope, of this strange treasons publication 
Another aggravation from the impossibility of discovering the fact.   
By all the reach of human policy:  
And therefore that God only did us save,  
And hereunto five reasons more we have.   

First to keep secret and perform th'intent  
They bond themselves by oath, firm, deep & strong. 
1   
Than hereupon received the Sacrament,  
O horrid fact, o most blasphemous wrong. 
2   
They also tutred were by josuites,  
To use all cozening tricks, deluding slights. 
3    

Namely on Oath, yea even on their salvation,  
(That none the truth might from them ere get out)  
To use that trick of false Equivocation,  
Man's senses so to cirumvent and flout:  
As that we might have proved vain questionists  
Deluded by these impious Idolists.   

Moreover though 'tis granted that that Letter 
4   
Was the first instrument of our blessed peace:  
Yet certainly little t'had been the better,  
If God had not so caused that work to cease  
Of underming that great Capitol,  
By reason of the thick and stony wall.   

Which so should cross what they did first intent,  
As that they must the Powder-Celler hire,  
Whereinto they their hellish stuff did sand  
To set our King and Senate all on fire:  
Which had it been of those things void and free,  
Where might it have been thought that stuff to be?   

If when the powder being with Charcoal hid  
Though found at first, was not at all suspected:  
O had not God that Mining-worke forbidden,  
How could the vault in time have been detected?  
Since no man thereof ever dreamt or thought;  
Nor till the Traitor's selves confessed, 'twas sought.   

The last, not lest thing which we note herein, 
5.   
That God did move the King still to rejoine  
The time he should the Parliament begin,  
Which also fitted best the Traitors turn:  
But chiefly unto us it fell out best,  
heavens King be ever therefore praised and blest.   

Now through both Court and Country speedily,  
Through Town and City, street, and every place,  
Through all the kingdom doth the rumour fly  
Of this deliverance, Gods preventing Grace:  
Annoyed is turned to joy and sweet content,  
Man's hands, and hearts, and knees to prayer bend.   

OH thou the great commander of Heaven high,  
The Almighty ruler of the earth below,  
Which by thy Thunder dost all terrify,  
In promise just, to anger very slow:  
O how can we sufficiently recount  
Thy condign praise which do the heavens surmount?   

Thou didst us save from slaughtering sword and fire,  
From miserable Massacre and death:  
From those which against thy Laws, our lives conspire,  
Thou only Zion's Saviour gav'st us breath:  
And as from teeth of greedy Savage Bears,  
Didst us recover, and redeem from fears.   

And like Cephèan fair Andromadeè  
Whom Perseus guarded from the gaping Whale;  
So we being bound to boundless misery  
By thee more powerful Perseus do prevail:  
By thy great bounty and benignity  
Are we set free, from grim adversity.   

Thou, only thou, by power of thy right hand,  
Hast our poor silly sinful souls preserved:  
Unworthy, most unworthy for to stand  
Before thy presence, having from thee swerved.  
We though thy foes, yet do thy mercies find,  
Thou wast most courteous when we were unkind.   

Though we (alas) daily delight in sin,  
Quenching thy Spirit in us, fostering the flesh,  
Endangering heavens loss, our Lust to win:  
Like dogs to vomit, sinning still afresh,  
Contemning thy behests and holy name,  
Using thy Saints with scornful scoffs and shame.   

Choosing the wrong, forsaking the right way,  
Labouring to please ourselves, though displease thee,  
Blindly persisting when we go astray:  
Thinking to live like Saints in vanity,  
As he which raves not with the frantic mad,  
Being amongst them is esteemed as bad.   

Great are thy works, greater thy mercies are,  
Thy meekness, mildness, patience, infinite:  
Who in thy Love (o our good God) didst care  
For us, of ourselves careless: Day and night  
Neglecting thee and thine, preferring more  
Our profit, pleasure, thy sweet grace before.   

OH let thy grace our graceless hearts revive,  
And turn our eyes into a flood of tears:  
O let us not still live, as dead alive,  
Sleeping in Sin, fearless of Sins great fears:  
OH give us grace the Old-man to forsake,  
And with true faith, firm hold on Christ to take.   

Illuminate the blindness of our heart,  
That we may see the ill which we have done:  
And grant (o father) though not our desert,  
With tears it seen we may desire to shun,  
And with incessant sighs and groaning grief,  
Give grace to wail our wants and find relief.   

Yea feed us Lord with heavenly Manna sweet,  
Thy sacred Word, to which terrestrial treasure  
Is but dry moss, or dross; o guide our feet,  
To tread the paths which lead to lasting pleasure:  
That as Christ's name with tongue we do profess:  
So by our works we may our faith express.   

The year precedent was most fatal found, 
For the year before this Powder-plot was the great plague in England.   
To many thousands of our brethren dear:  
Whom the great plague infectiously did wound,  
And now this Powder-plague we scap't full near:  
But thy strong hand, o Lord, the slaughtering blade  
Hath back retorted, and our foes dismayed.   

These things, o Lord, do plainly testify,  
Our grievous sins t'have highly thee displeased:  
Yet we may see, by this thy clemency,  
How quickly thou from wrath wilt be appeased:  
Thou show'st thy rod, and mildly dost it shake,  
That we may see thy grace and sin forsake.   

And as a Mother chastizing her child,  
Loathly lifts up her hand, soon lets it fall:  
So with like love even of a father mild,  
Thou us thy children labourest to recall:  
But if nor words, nor warning may reclaim us,  
Thy punishments, o Lord, will justly tame us.   

And doubtless though the Lord to wrath be slow,  
Yet if too far provoked, his ire will burn:  
His vials of destruction he will throw  
Upon th'ungodly's head, which will not turn  
From vanity: like stubble in the field  
They shall consume, and to his judgements yield.   

Than let us, o let us with special care  
Learn, by the Lords so frequent exhortation,  
To love and fear him, yea let us declare  
The gospels fruits in our lives reformation,  
And let us hate Babel the just man's foe,  
The seat of Antichrist where sin doth flow.   

The very Basis of impiety,  
And Cage of unclean birds loathsomely fold,  
Of which I may affirm most faithfully:  
That though thou hadst Alcides' courage bold,  
Thou couldst not cleanse Rome's sin-proud shining hals,  
Moore foul by far then fowl Angea's stalls.   

But that of ancient Prophets the prediction  
of Babel's bane, this age to pass may bring,  
To see both Rome, & Rome's proud Whores conviction,  
This conquest great Lord grant unto our King:  
Whose life as 'tis most precious in thy sight,  
So let thy glory shine in his great might.   

To propagate, and further to extend,  
The glorious Sunshine of thy Gospel pure:  
His foes to see, and shun, his power to bend  
To punish and pull down the evil doer:  
To love the good, the haughty to suppress,  
To maintain virtue, beaten down wickedness.   

That justice like a river with swift source,  
Through all the Kingdom to all people may  
Extend her streams, and uncorrupted course,  
And that he so this noble Realm may sway,  
As that here living he may live in peace,  
And after death his fame may never cease.   

That all his Nobles, and right noble Peers,  
The most illustrious Senate of this Land,  
Whose hearts this thy great love and mercy cheers,  
May fear thy name, and Gospel's foes withstand,  
That till their end of days and lives last hour,  
They may adore thy Majesty and power.   

And for so great, so good deserts of thine,  
So blessed deliverance, life and liberty,  
Grant from that sacred 
* Of Parliament.  house such Laws divine  
May be established, with severity,  
As may redound to th'honour, joy and health,  
Of King and Subjects, Church and Commonwealth.   

That these most cruel cursed Canaanites,  
The props and pillars of that shameless Whore,  
These sons of Edome, Church's Ismaelites,  
Who (even as Sheep to die) had marked us over,  
May be cut off from 'mongst us, which so long  
Have wrought & sought our peace to break & wrong.   

Which like inhuman barbarous Parricides,  
Would cut the throat of their sweet Parents dear,  
I mean their Country, o vile Homicides,  
With one fierce blow to make their passage clear,  
Inferior naught to Nero's fowl desire,  
Who wished to see his Country all on fire.   

Who plot and practise guiltless blood to spill, 
A brief recapitulation of Rome's enormities.   
Delighting most in rapine, thefts and lies,  
Teaching as most true doctrine, Kings to kill,  
Forbidding Marriage, not Adulteries,  
Yea, incest and such other sins of shame  
They slight esteem, which Christians should not name.   

Whose Pope, and holy Priesthood, for their gain  
And filthy lucre, think it not a shame,  
Their odious Stews in public to maintain;  
And yearly tribute for this cause to claim:  
Whose practise is, to cozen and dissemble,  
Whose blasphemies would 'cause the godly tremble.   

Who do by grounds of their Religion hold  
(That which no Heretics or Sect whatsoever,  
Not not the Turk, the jew, nor Pagan bold,  
Nor those of Calicut which serve and fear  
The Devil) to kill their King, (o most notorious)  
For Conscience sake, and say 'tis meritorious.   

Who mingle with God's word, and to prefer  
Their own traditions, do esteem most just:  
With strong delusions causing men to err,  
Using, abusing Scriptures to their lust,  
Teaching for truth the 
* For the Pope's East India, I mean Purgatory, was first occasioned by Friar joachim who dreamt of such a thing.  dreams of idle Friars,  
Slandering God's truth like most nefarious Liars.   

Who both the Laws of God and Man abuse,  
Breaking the bands of blessed humanity,  
The Turks profane such vilenessenere did use,  
Nor savage Indian's like barbarity,  
Nay impious Assyria never saw,  
Th'impieties, which Rome maintains by Law.   

OH why then foster we these poisonous Snakes?  
These monstrous Hydra's with us to abide:  
With whom what People, Kingdom long partakes  
In which Rome's furious fangs are not descried?  
But if we will persist them still to spare,  
Let's blame ourselves if we fall in their snare.   

Than leave we them and all their sly delusions,  
And as 'tis fit, let us with fervent zeal  
Renounce their love, repel their false intrusions,  
Nor ere in aught with them commerce or deal:  
For though in show they silly Lambs would seem,  
Yet who so tries them, will them wolves esteem.   

Thou then the God of our inheritance,  
Our part, our portion, buckler, staff and stay.  
Thy Zion's Saviour, strong deliverance,  
Under thy wings preserve us still we pray:  
Make void and frustrate Babel's hateful pride,  
The cause is thine (o Lord) stand on our side.   

Resist their rage, for 'gainst thy Church they rave,  
Revenge the blood of thy distressed Saints,  
And let thy people thy protection have,  
And when they grieve, relieve their sad complaints:  
OH Lord we pray thee bless and dress thy Vine:  
Thy Love, thy Dove, this little Flock of thine.   

Yea Lord at all times in extremest straits  
Thy help is present, and thy presence sweet:  
Thy sacred arm our secret armies waits,  
To foil our foes and cast them at our feet:  
Thou Lord dost 'cause the fell Monocerote,  
To bear on's brow a sovereign Antidote.   

Wherhfore (o Lord) this wondrous work of thine,  
Our voice and verse for ever shall record:  
To sing thy praise our hearts we will incline,  
Thy name and fame, o our celestial Lord,  
In every House, Shire, City, Street and Temple,  
And teach our children this by our ensample.   

Throughout this Kingdom we thy fame will raise,  
And tell thy works unto each foreign nation:  
While vital breath from death prolongs our days,  
While Sun and Moon shine in their cloudy station,  
Our Singers shall sing Psalms to thee on high,  
O blessed, blessed, blessed Trinity.   

Omnis gloria solius est Domini.   
FINIS.   

MISCHIEFS MYSTERY: OR, Treasons Masterpiece. The second Part.  

Infernal Fauks with Daemoniacke heart,  
Being ready now to act his Hellish part,  
Booted and spurred, with Lantern in his hand,  
And match in's pocket, at the door doth stand;  
But, wise Lord Kneuet by Divine Direction  
Him apprehends: and finds the Plots detection.   
LONDON, Printed by E. GRIFFIN, dwelling in the Little Old Bailie near the sign of the Kings-head. 1617.   

TO THE RIGHT Worshipful, Mr. Henry jay Alderman of London, and one of the principal Governors of Christ's Hospital, to whom I V wisheth a full measure of Grace in this life, and the fullness of Glory in the life to come.  

IT is as easy as ridiculous  
(Right Wordhipfull) for men officious  
By favours bound: to promise' very fair,  
But to perform and pay is all the care.  
here's all the labour, this the only stop.  
This doth the flower of frequent promise crop.  
Since then to promise' much, and naught to pay,  
Is the chief badge vainglory to display:  
And with fond Ciclicus to promise' fair,  
Is vainly to build castles in the Air;  
How then should I without deserved disgrace  
Presume to promise'? knowing my weak case:  
For as both I and my dear fostered Brother  
Have both of us christs-hospital our Mother.  
And he in you doth find Paternal care;  
And you of that blessed- House a Patron are,  
A principal and pious Governor,  
Religion's friend, and Learning's favourer.  
Therefore I must ingenuously agnize  
That I, with him, am bound to you likewise:  
Both for the good which he in you doth find,  
Whereof I do partake by joy in mind:  
As also that your Worship ruling there  
Whereas I now do a poor office bear,  
Therefore I say, I own unto you more,  
And am obliged in so large a score,  
As my poor Talon never will suffice  
To pay the debt, or ere to equalize  
The merit, of your manifold desert  
By other real sign, than thankful Heart.  
Yet, rather than I would so brutish be,  
Ingratefully my duty thus to flee:  
Because not able to pay what I own,  
Promise' and payment rudely to foreslow.  
I have been bold, embouldned by your favours,  
To give this second part of my poor labours:  
To dedicated this Mite of my Goodwill  
To your Good Worship: but not to fulfil  
Or fully satisfy the boundless bond,  
Wherein obliged unto you I stand.  
But only thus to show, and to express,  
My best and priest desire of thankfulness:  
Which with my prayers for your prosperity,  
Shall never cease t'implore heavens Deity.  
Accept therefore (Right Worshipful) I pray  
This Symbol of my service, first Essay.  
Regard not (Worthy Sir) the Quantity  
Of this poor present, but the Quality.  
The gift but mean, the givers heart sincere,  
Thus some small part of my great debt to clear:  
Which, hoping your good Worship will respect,  
Heavens Grace and Goodness you and yours protect.   
Your worships in his best endeavours to be commanded: JOHN VICARS.   

The Mystery of Mischief OR, Treasons Masterpiece. The second Part.  

NOW look we back, whereas we lately left:  
Incarcerate Fauks that cursed incarnate Devil,  
Whose heart was clean of Piety bereft,  
And strangely hardened with infernal evil:  
So that a second Scoenola most bold,  
In this audacious wretch might all behold.   

For why? he durst most shamelessly proclaim  
This hateful fact, to be an holy deed:  
And that the zeal of Rome's Faith did inflame  
His cursed heart, with boldness to proceed;  
And that he grieved for nothing more than this,  
That of the Works conclusion he did miss.   

Adding moreover, with strange impudence,  
That if he had been in the Cellar ta'en  
As 'twas abroad, he being new come thence:  
He would have set on fire the powder-traine,  
And both himself, with those that had him catched,  
Would then have blown up, and of life dispatched.   

Yea when before the King and Counsel grave  
He stood, to be examined and tried,  
Most scornfully he did himself behave,  
And oftentimes would seem even to deride  
What was demanded, so small grace he had:  
So hard a heart, his conscience was so bad.   

Nay more, there were those which did surely hear  
Vile Robert Winter, Winter impudent,  
In whom the very Autumn did appear,  
And fruitless Wintr of an impenitent:  
Who being in the Tower a time did find.  
To speak to Fauks, and thus to vtter's mind.   

Thou know'st (friend Fauks quoth Winter to his mate,)  
That Catesby and myself have children left:  
And Boys will once grow up to Man's estate,  
Than are we not of comfort quite bereft:  
For why I hope they'll then revenge our wrong,  
And for our sakes our Foes once lay along.   

Yea, though we had no children of our own,  
Yet God to Abraham can children raise  
Even from the fiery flint, the sterile stone,  
And I much marvel no man in our praise  
For this most zealous Action doth indite  
And an Apology for us doth writ.   

But howesoe're, let's vow and here protest,  
When we before the people are to die  
To maintain our just cause, and manifest  
Our ardent zeal for Rome's supremacy.  
Content quoth Fauks, for this I do suppose,  
The Devil not God did this our fact disclose.   

O monstrous men, o hard hearts, brazen faces,  
Pastgrace, past goodness, voided of fear or shame:  
To offer God and man these foul disgrace,  
Our good, heavens God, thus foully to defame  
far worse than julian that Apostata,  
Of Ecebolius, worse than these I say.   

For though proud julian with blasphemous words  
And tyrannous attempts 'gainst Christ did fight,  
Slaying the Christians with his murdering swords,  
Scorning and scoffing at Truth's glorious light:  
Yet ere he died, he did confess and cry,  
Thou, Galilean, hast the victory.   

So Ecebolius a Philosopher,  
Who also lived in wicked julians' time,  
Remorse of Conscience forcing him so far,  
At the Church door fell down, confessed his crime,  
And woefully to th' Christians thus did say,  
On me unsavoury salt, tread, tread, I pray.   

But this remorseless, graceless, godless brood 
Calcate me salem insipidum.   
Of rammish Romists most unsavoury salt:  
Are not ashamed, afraid, with impious mood,  
Not only not to grieve for this great fault,  
But, most impenitent, avouch and joy,  
This hellish plot, their country to destroy.   

So impenitent and impudent are they,  
So far from impious julians' forced confession:  
So far from Ecebolius, as to say  
With heart relenting, and with true contrition:  
OH Truth, o Truth, thou hast the upper hand,  
OH not, to th'death against Truth these will stand.   

And, to this strange impenitence, I may  
Hear add the Traitor Tressam's perjury:  
As most apparent marks thus to display  
This Whore of Babel, and her blasphemy:  
And let no Romish Rabsheca be moved,  
To say they're false, for both were justly proved.   

This Tressam to the Counsel had confessed  
That often with Garnet he had conference  
About this Treason, yea he did protest  
That Garnet knew and had intelligence  
Of that invasion by the King of Spain,  
Which greedily they gaped for, but in vain.   

This also being proved to Garnets' face:  
Yet Tressam ere he died did take his oath  
And on his soul's salvation (void of grace)  
Vilely recanted, falsely forswore them both,  
And said that sixteen years at lest were past  
Since he did see or talk with Garnet last.   

OH what a wretched state live these men in?  
Who have indulgence for such damned attempts,  
Who hold it but a trivial venial sin  
To wrist and jest with oaths and Sacraments:  
But desperate judas-like did Tressam dye,  
Murdering himself in prison cruelly.   

OH who so Stoicke-like, so senseless stock?  
Cannot be moved with deep admiration  
Of Babel's strong delusions, which thus mock  
Nay which bewitch with hellish incantation,  
The silly vassals of that Mitred whore,  
I'th' Revelation spoken of long before.   

Whose Cup full fraught with Circe's poisonous spell,  
They having drunk, have Metamorphozed been  
Into the shapes of Swine, or Hags of hell;  
No sparks of human Nature left within,  
Their shameless face with steel enamelled,  
Their flinty hearts with Marble hardened.   

Put case our gracious King had grieved you:  
Wherein had brave Prince Henry you offended?  
What on sweet Charles your churlish hatred drew?  
Why to Eliza was such spite pretended?  
What gainest the Nobles did your malice move?  
Why to the State did you so unkind prove?   

Nay tell me what degenerous unknown passion,  
So much o'er swayed your furious hateful heart?  
That even your loving friends without exception:  
With Heretics being mingled must take part:  
Both friends and foes must all of one cup drink,  
And into th' pit of fierce confusion sink.   

But to omit digression and proceed,  
Let's here leave Fauks fast locked in London's Tower:  
And briefly we'll relate each scelerous deed  
Which did and should succeed that fatal hour,  
In which discourse, each godly wise shall see  
By truth and reason all confirmed to be.   

There was a Gentleman religious, wise,  
Unto our foes the Papists known full well:  
With whom one of these Traitors did devise  
A swift paced horse to buy, which then to cell  
He moved this Gentleman, and strait way gave  
The horse to Fauks, himself by flight to save.   

That when the furious flamei'th air should blaze,  
He might take horse, and swiftly hast away:  
Glutting his devilish eyes, fearless to gaze  
On his dear country's downfall and decay:  
But then the Devil and they had thus decreed,  
To pay him home with his deserved meed.   

He hoped for Honour, they would paid with Horror,  
He gaped for Gould, they would it turn to Gall:  
His dignity should be his death and dolour,  
And when he hoped to rise, he down should fall:  
Thus even thus it turns to their perdition  
Which hope to raise their hap by proud Ambition.   

For why these cunning Craftsmen used this wretch  
But as an instrument, the fact t' effect  
To serve their turn, and this was then their fetch  
To cure all care and danger of suspect.  
With gold they had procured most devilishly,  
A rout of Rascals in the woods to pry.   

Who like so many Curs should here and there  
Lie lurking to surprise in his return  
This ravening Wolf: being then secure from fear  
Save that in's Conscience which like fire did burn;  
Of life and coin, these should with desperate mood  
Him reave and leave his corpse for ravens food.   

These Demoniac Furies hoped hereby  
Closely to lay the guilt and guerdion,  
Of this atrocious fact foul treachery  
Upon the guiltless, as before was shown:  
And publicly would publish without shame,  
Puritans authors of this woe and blame.   

That wretched Fauks being by those slaves thus slain,  
None could the truth or Traitors manifest:  
But search being made, the horse brought back again,  
His owner might be speedily expressed:  
And that good Gentleman of whom 'twas bought,  
Plotter of this foul Treason should be thought.   

Hence, hence I say had ruefully been raised  
Clamours of men, clattering of sword and spear,  
With thundering drums and guns men's hearts amazed;  
Death-threatning wars, on all sides then to rear.  
O English Protestant's, why stand you still?  
As 'tis afraid, to curb their cursed will.   

Hast, hast, take arms, let not unpunished go  
So monstrous mischief, let your slaughtering sword  
Repay into the bosom of your foe,  
The measure which they would to us afford:  
OH most inhuman manners, OH strange age:  
Wherein like brute-beasts, brutish men thus rage.   

But why alas do I in vain complain?  
My tongue cleaves to my mouth, I wholly tremble,  
My heart and soul depressed with pining pain,  
As though these monstrous men did right resemble  
And personate, unto my present view,  
Fowl Hidra's manifold and fearful hue.   

Methinks their blasphemous wide gaping throat,  
Their bloody hands and heart treason to invent,  
Is like black Pluto's Curs loud triple note:  
The foul Harpeian-birds do represent,  
Yea even the hideous Gorgon's rightly are  
To their pernicious lives of lest compare.   

And though three hundred mouths and tongues full clear  
I did enjoy: with Stentors sounding voice,  
My breast then oak more strong, this task to bear,  
And Argos or bright Lynx's eyes at choice:  
Rome's devilish cozenage to perceive and tell,  
As it deserves, 'twould far this power excel.   

For these impieties do plain portend  
This age to be those sterile latter days,  
Wherein sweet virtue languisheth to'r end,  
And faith as at death's door 'mongst men decay:  
Envy, dishonesty, too fast do flow,  
And even at heaven darts of defiance throw.   

And as the Ocean doth all streams contain,  
So doth this age embrace each ancient Sin,  
Whereby a deadlier deluge flows amain,  
Than that of ancient time, that No lived in:  
That did the body, this the soul destroy,  
That living they still die with worse annoy.   

Who then this sinful, most fowl Angea's stall,  
Strong Hercules being dead can cleanse or clear?  
Nay none (unless we could from death recall,  
And 'cause the Ghost of Virgil to appear.)  
Can lively purtract Rome's degenerous brood,  
Their malice, mischief, pride and devilish mood.   

Now let us here, as if the fact were done,  
Imagine Fauks well mounted on his beast:  
His hellish hope of joy, even now begun,  
His gaping for reward in's speed expressed:  
Puffed up with pride of prosperous success,  
Hasting to's Mates with most strange nimbleness.   

But as with fiery Phaeton he flings,  
With hare-brained fury, false-conceived joy,  
Hoping for honour and to sit with Kings,  
Those Slaves prepared his cursed life to stroy  
Encountered him, and his swift passage stayed,  
And with like bloody purpose to him said.   

Stay, stay, fierce Boar, why foam'st thou out of breath?  
We know thee well, whither so fast dost fly?  
Turn, turn, thy way thou'st lost, we'll soon by death  
Sand thee the right way to black Tartary,  
To Pluto's Court, who hath thee long expected,  
Wherethy reward shall be no whit neglected.   

For since by his direction and decree,  
Thou hast effected a damned villainy:  
Thy cursed soul to hell shall swiftly flee,  
Of thy proceeding him to certify;  
And Charon hells fowl Ferryman doth wait,  
To row thy soul to black Auerniu gate.   

Yea hells grim Porter ugly Cerberus,  
(For why, there never came nor never will,  
A soul to Pluto's self more gracious)  
With hideous noise will bark most loud and shrill  
For joy of thine approach, and without stay  
To hell's black palace will thee lead the way.   

Where as Tartarean Dis doth rule and reign,  
Who from his fiery throne will soon descend,  
With hellish joy thy soul to entertain,  
And run to meet thee as his dearest friend:  
With damned conjoyes to congratulate,  
Thy wished approach and fact so fortunate.   

Yea than thou shalt at his right hand be placed,  
And there receive those damned dignities,  
Wherewith great Pluto's friends are always graced,  
For matchless mischiefs and strange villainies:  
Than in our name solicit hell's great King,  
To grant us his assistance in this thing.   

Namely, that he'll be pleased from hell to sand  
Th'infernal Furies and most hideous Hags:  
Who here in England may their powers bend  
In our assistance, to erect the flags  
And ensigns of destruction and blood shed,  
Which through this Kingdom shall be spilled & spread.   

Now then base Traitor know for certainty,  
That we are of Lysander's stamp and strain,  
To love foul treasons, but to hate and fly  
The Traitors, which the fact have undertaken:  
Wherhfore false Sinon take thy just desert,  
And with these words, their swords do pierce his heart.   

OH Nemesis of vengeance the just God  
Which in thy hands dost equal balance bear:  
Wherein to weigh men's faults, and with thy rod  
Their souls to strike and stroy, which will not fear,  
Nor love thy treats and threats, on such, I say,  
Thou soon or late thy heavy hand wilt lay.   

OH than you frantic Atheists tell me why?  
Why (as in prison) think y'in heaven to lock  
Gods ternall and eternal Majesty?  
Behold your folly, think not God to mock:  
Learn to discern his justice, be advised;  
Let not your souls by Satan be surprised.   

What, see you not God's wrath the sinner wounding?  
Like billowing waves, resistless vengeance great  
The heat of pride and sinner proud confounding,  
Quite to quench out sins fire and fiery heat:  
O fools, perceive you not that God above  
Guards and regards his Flock, his Love, his Dove,   

Nay which is more, do you not plainly see,  
God's just revenge, with like for like repaid?  
An homicide his death's man for to be,  
That had by murder Pluto's hests obeyed:  
Most strange it is, that you iuch deeds commit,  
And at these just plagues are not moved a whit.   

By this first Scene we easily may guess  
The grievous progress of this Tragedy.  
O how much blood? what slaughters numberless?  
What scuffling ruffling noise tumultuously  
Every where raised? what woeful sights and shows  
England had then beheld, no creature knows?   

The Land like Lerna's pool of mischief full,  
Than made a tragic stage for neighbouring Nations,  
On this side France from us a piece would pull,  
On th'other side proud Spain's hateful invasions:  
Hear would the Germans, there the Irish wild,  
Not spare to proule and pill what might be spoiled.   

Unhappy Albion this most glorious Realm,  
A prize, a prey to each insulting foe,  
Like pasture which the Sea doth overwhelm,  
Or like Leander tossed too and fro  
In tumid Hellespont, by Boreas' blast,  
Until his soul ith'waues had breathed its last.   

Now, let us here suppose our foes in field,  
With clattering arms and battering engines strong,  
Amazed Citizens ready to yield,  
Yet run to arms with strange promiscuous throng:  
As though a second conquering Hannibal,  
The gates had entered, and had scaled the wall.   

Loud sounding noise of drums and trumpets high,  
Filling the empty air with Cannon-thunder,  
The earth therewith to quake, and furiously  
Base peasants ransacking with woe and wonder  
Each worthy, wealth place, with greedy mind  
Committing rapes and rapines most unkind.   

The holy Levites England's Prophets good,  
As they to prayer do go with sighs and sobs,  
By Demi-devils of Rome offering their blood,  
Before God's altar, drawn forth by the stabs  
Of barbarous Butchers, who without all pity,  
Would Christ's true worship chase from shire & city.   

A fearful famine than would t'Albion chance  
A grievous change, a far more woeful case,  
By enormous error and blind Ignorance,  
Man's souls to pine and perish in each place:  
OH then alas those lamps of light thus lost,  
Oceans of blood, God's Martyrs 'twould have cost.   

Than ruthful Rachel full of groans and grief,  
Her children slain, all comfort would refuse:  
Than fear would call to faintness for relief,  
While proud oppressors poor distressed abuse,  
Than bloody Nero void of grace and fear,  
His mother's womb with sword would rip and tear.   

Than mercilessly should the infant tender,  
Be lugged and tugged from woeful mother's breast:  
And tostup into th'air, on pikes so slender,  
Before the face of parents most oppressed:  
Yea unborn babes in mother's womb lie slain,  
Whose birth even in their birth slaves would restrain.   

But whither would my pen me lead, if I  
Should here commemorate, each stately town,  
Each fertile field, destroyed, made barren dry,  
Each gallant architecture clean pulled down:  
Consuming fires, and flashing flames by night,  
The air like lightning glistering with the light.   

The famous river Thamisis likewise,  
The adjacent shores to Neptune's watery region  
Struck with amazement of these miseries,  
A stonisht at this strange confusion:  
Moore mercy Androde in his Lion meets,  
Than then would have been found in England's streets.   

O if I should proceed, here to recite  
All other bloody slaughters, hostile woes,  
The dearth, the famine, and each fearful sight,  
The miserable plagues threatened by foes:  
Who roving, robbing, spoiling every thing,  
On sick and whole a world of woes 'twould bring.   

Easier 'tis, for any man to count  
The leaves in Autumn, from trees falling fast:  
The sands of Lybian shores, which do surmount,  
Cast up by Boreas lowd-clowd-chasing blast:  
Or twinkling stars which nightly brightly roll  
On sabled circles of the whirling Pole.   

And doubtless had not heavens great King of might,  
Moore prudent far than Phrygian Priamus,  
Extinguished this fierce brands increasing light:  
It soon had flamed and grown most dangerous,  
And thou, o Catesby, to thy Parent's horror,  
Than that of Paris, hadst wrought greater terror.   

For why, within the walls o'th' Parliament,  
The mighty monstrous Horse thou hadst brought in,  
Not stuffed with Greeks', but Powder violent,  
With Graecian craft thy conquest thus to win:  
And as a Whore was cause of all Troy's woe,  
So Babel's Whore had caused my overthrow.   

Henceforth therefore, I thee renounce, refuse,  
Thou hast a Stepdame, nay a Strumpet mother,  
And since thou dost her fornications use,  
And in oblivion all my favours smother,  
Accursed be thou rebellious Absalon,  
Accursed be thou proud Whore of Babylon.   

And happy doubtless I the man will call,  
Which her re-plagues, as she to plague me thought,  
Who beats her children's brains against the wall,  
My just revenge thus on her to be wrought,  
And as she cried, down, down with Israel's City,  
So let her fall without remorse or pity.   

Hate them, o England, hate them I thee pray,  
Which thus do hate Christ and his worshippers:  
Yea curse them with the curse Maranatha,  
Thus' blessed Paul, thus David thy zeal stirs:  
Hate I not them (saith he) which God molest,  
Yea them with deadly hatred I detest.   

OH then shall favour, friendship so prevail?  
Shall kindred, profit, fear, 'cause us to shrowded  
These? which but only watch a time t'assail,  
Which gained, they'd soon lift up their horns most proud,  
Impunity doth naught but cause them bide  
S●ill thorns to th'eyes, and goads unto our side.   

But now to pass to that which doth remain  
Of this succinct and most authentic story,  
Further to view this traitorous hateful train,  
The more to magnify heavens praise and glory.  
Hear than what Satan's Pseudopostles did,  
(Shall be declared) after all was unhid.   

These bold Competitors, these traitors base,  
Perceiving that by heavens most just decree  
Their treason was made known: Like Bears in chase  
Their prey being lost, in haste with fury flee.  
Their hearts began to ache and quake with fear,  
Like dogs they grin, curse, ban, rage, sweat & swear.   

To horse they hast and swiftly post away,  
(Like Zephyrus blown by angry Aeolus;)  
To Dun-Church: where their complices did stay,  
For they their place of meeting pointed thus:  
And in those fields did Digby falsely feign  
His holy- Hunt, a fat Buck to be slain.   

'Twas such a Hunt as that of Nimrod proud, 
The traitorous Catholics Holy Hunt.   
Who lived in our ancient Father's days:  
Their villainy thus cunningly to shrowded,  
By rumour of this Hunt which they did raise:  
And as in word, so to avoid suspicion  
Ofall things for this Hunt they made provision.   

Their toils and nets they place with joyful cheer,  
Their hounds whose barking noise should pierce the air  
They ready made, to chase the fearful Deer,  
The sturdy Stag, the tripping skipping Hare,  
Having made choice of a large Champion ground,  
A fit for their turn could not be found.   

With bramble bushes set conveniently,  
And here and there planted a lofty tree:  
Most fit with swift Careers their horse to try,  
And their fierce dogs chase the Buck to see:  
Yea 'twas a plain so spacious that they might  
An army place, in battell-ray to fight.   

In this great Heath proud Digby and the train  
Of his attendants, first doth pass along:  
Whom traitorous Tressam followed amain,  
And after him a mighty thrust and throng,  
Inhabiting i'th' villages about,  
To know the cause of this uncustomed rout.   

Than forthwith all the Gallants and best choice  
Of Gentlemen, and youths fit to endure,  
To ride, to run, to hollow with loud voice  
He doth elect; and to his sports allure:  
And every village situate thereby,  
Doth thither flock together speedily.   

The woods about with snares and haies they fill,  
Some with their swords cut boughs, some nets do lay,  
Others do blow their horns both loud and shrill,  
Yea all prepare them to their sport and play,  
And from their hounds the collars they untie,  
Who to their game do run most eager.   

At whose loud opening, and huge yelping noise,  
The Deer which fearfully lay hid i'th' bushes,  
Now suddenly to their content and joys,  
Out of the thickers 'mongst them nimbly rushes:  
And from them all doth swiftly run and scud,  
Whom men and dogs pursue as they were wood.   

But, in the midst of this their hasty pace,  
By chance an honest countryman doth keep  
By th'side of one of this most traitorous race,  
And as he leapt over a ditch most deep,  
A clattering armour perfectly did hear,  
Which under's clothes that traitor than did wear.   

And that which in him more suspicion bred,  
The wind as then did somewhat blustr' and blow,  
That up and down his coat often hovered,  
Whereby the harness he might see and know,  
This sight did him amaze, and secretly  
He thus did whisper to one standing by.   

Good neighbour tell me what you think of this?  
I know not, but this mighty company  
In these our fields I judge is much amiss:  
Being unusual, and yet unknown why.  
I hearty could wish their hunting were  
Bend only 'gainst these Foxes, Hares, and Dear.   

Not, not, I doubt they gape for greater things:  
Themselves being fiercest Wolves though sheepe-like clad,  
These subtle Serpents doubtless hide their stings,  
This hunt is not alone for bruit- beasts had:  
But worse mischief in their bosom lies,  
Not beasts to kill, but men's lives to surprise.   

Lord keep the King, and Princely Progeny,  
And noble Counsel of this kingdom fair:  
From being caught and trapped in treachery,  
By these audacious Hunters subtillsnare:  
My mind presageth some great villainy,  
And yet I wish my judgement false may be.   

For, otherwise why should they armour wear  
Under their clothes? a furniture unfit  
For such a sport; besides all of them are  
Vassals to th' Pope of Rome who often did spit  
His envious poison, 'gainst Queen El'zabeth  
Whose Fame as in her life lives after death.   

They are I say, the props and pillars all  
Of Rome's religion, Antichrist's hirelings,  
Who sends his bellowing Bulls, whose roaring brawl  
Disposeth Realms, Deposeth lawful Kings,  
Which he composeth of false couched treason,  
Beyond the bounds of Piety and reason.   

Wherewith he strove that blessed Queen t'abuse,  
To work and win by this his damned Art,  
Her subjects to relinquish and refuse  
Their duty and Allegiance in their heart:  
Hoping thereby of life, Kingdom and crown,  
Thus to bereave that Queen of blessed remowne.   

First, Holt a jesuite vilely did suggest  
Cullen and Williams that rare Queen to kill:  
Absolved them both, gave them the Eucharist,  
Which they in vain attempted to fulfil:  
Walpoole the jesuite did false Squine incite,  
This Queen to kill, by poisons fatal might.   

Yea that base peasant jaques Francis, he  
Himself being but a Laundresses proud brat,  
Said England's state so firm would settled be,  
If Mistress El'zabeth were not aimed at  
With a fierce Deaths-dart, thus this slave durst call  
That all-admired Princess Angelical.   

Than Lopez, rather Lupus hither came,  
With poisonous heart, a poisoning part to play,  
Campion that Popish Champion of such fame,  
With Romish holiness came her to slay.  
Babbington and his consorts, Rome's dear friends,  
Parry and more, assayed like treacherous ends.   

But though they did this oftentimes attempt,  
Yet heavens protection did her still preserve:  
And though they often of mischief 'gainst her dreamt,  
God was her shield, nor did she from him swerver:  
He made her the more glorious 'mongst all Kings,  
And of their devilish hope still clipped the wings.   

Doubtless this most viperious generation  
Both ever was, and so continued still  
Disloyal, thirsting after innovation  
The cunning Craftes-masters of fraud and ill:  
The foes to our felicity and peace,  
But here's more need of swords than words: I'll cease   

I'll for myself provide as best I may,  
And hie with haste from this so dangerous crew,  
And with these words his staff on's neck did lay,  
And without answer he himself withdrew.  
By chance also as they thus hunting were,  
A friend of traitorous Winters, this did fear.   

And therefore he thus unto Winter said,  
I pray thee tell me Winter, what's the reason?  
Of this so great concourse of people made  
Among us, at this unbefitting season:  
What wind hath blown our Catholics together?  
I prithee tell me, wherefore come they hither?   

To whom thus Winter in his ear replied,  
To tell the truth to you, my loving friend:  
This hunt of beasts is but a sconce to hide  
A holy hunt, which forthwith we intent:  
And to be brief we hunt Religion: 
Religionem venamu●.   
Which into holes, as into woods was flown.   

Again now to regain our freedom lost,  
And to Rome's fold the wandering flock t'reduce,  
To repossess our livings and great cost,  
Which we endured by wrong and foul abuse  
We hope to hunt these Wolves heretical.  
From our too long enjoyed possessions all.   

And in these few days this will be effected,  
Than be advised, remember what I say:  
And that thou mayst not be with them rejected,  
Hold on our side, it is the wisest way.  
But now the night draws on, our sport must end,  
And with these words he parted from his friend.   

The huntsmen then their horns aloud did blow,  
To make their retrograde back to repair:  
Both hounds and hunters to their homes do go,  
And by the way their passed sport declare,  
When being housed, their Host had set on board,  
Such viands as the time would best afford.   

Great fires were made, themselves to warm and heat,  
A Parlour fair to sup in, ready dressed,  
Their Tables spread with linen clean and neat,  
And gold and silver goblets of the best:  
Than Digby being chiefest of them all,  
Puts off his arms, and for his gown doth call.   

Wherein he walks and starkes with Princely gate  
Amid his cursed consorts, traitorous train,  
Prescribes them statutes, answers, asks in state:  
His breast no trivial trifles doth retain,  
His heart and head negotiate Princely affairs  
He unto each his place of honour shares.   

So insolent and confident is he  
Of prosperous success, and wished event,  
That he even loads his mates with dignity,  
And this being done, they all to supper went,  
Where was no want of mirth and dainty cheer,  
As in their quaffed carouses did appear.   

In drinking health's and wishing good success  
To their companions, which near London stayed:  
Whose coming they expect with greediness,  
Thinking each hour ten, till they were made  
Partakers of their tidings, but mean while,  
With mirth and music they the time beguile.   

But while they sat as 'twere o'erwhelmed in joys,  
Glutting themselves with dainties and delight,  
In scornful verses, scoffs, flouts, jesting toys  
On those whom they term Pure in scorn and spite,  
On whom they breaking jests in great disdain,  
Would hoot and hollow, laughing out amain.   

As thus I say they ieyving, jesting sat,  
News was brought in that Purcy and Catesby  
Were at the door, to whom in hast they got  
Them for to meet, distracted diversly:  
Whom Digby first with speedy pace doth meet,  
And 'bout the middle doth them kindly greet.   

Often demanding what good news they brought,  
Who with dejected face, abjected plight,  
As brief as full of grief, said All is nought:  
At which they all were suddenly affright.  
(Srange alteration) like to ghosts they stand:  
As if not able to stir foot or hand.   

Such numbness, dumbness seemed in them to be,  
A chilling cold possessed their trembling bones,  
Their bodies quake and quiver, you might see  
Within their face disgrace and shameful moans:  
Their countenance cast down, they stare and gaze,  
Their fainting hearts half dead at that amaze.   

And thus, o thus, the Lord converts the joy  
Of unjust men, i'th' twinkling of an eye,  
Into lamenting grief, and dire annoy,  
Their pleasure turns to pain and penury:  
A while they flourish like a pleasant Bay:  
But quickly they do whither like dry hay.   

Percy at length all fear doth from him cast,  
And dissolutely resolute began  
His friends to comfort, who thus stood aghast,  
Uttering these words befitting such a man:  
Take courage friends, do not all hope neglect,  
The first attempts do seldom take effect.   

If thus it had fared with Caesar in the field  
Of Thessaly, where he his battle fought  
Pompey being Victor, would have made him yield,  
And Caesar had been slain past fear or doubt:  
And with his life his Empire he had lost,  
Each enterprise at first great pains doth cost.   

Yea commonly great dangers do attend  
The noblest acts: life's but a chance at dice:  
The Gamester first doth loose, yet ere he end  
He wins as much at once, as lost at thrice,  
Though for the time a little loss he suffer,  
Great heaps of coin he doth at length recover.   

Believe me (noble friends) virtue best shines  
In troublesome and intricate affairs:  
This time requires bold spirits, strong medicines  
Cure the disease, which cowardice impairs:  
FortunesFortunes a friend to the courageous wight:  
But dastard fear declares the peasant right.   

What, are we not all of us Catholics?  
Is not our war religious, just, and right?  
Doth not our Highpriest curse these Heretics  
And pray for us? Valiantly then let's fight.  
This Pluto's orator scarce made an end,  
When they to arms themselves did fiercely bend.   

Than forthwith Catesby, and his traitorous mates  
Consult among themselves, what first to do:  
Who with a Letter sendeth his man Bates  
To Garnet, this their ill success to show:  
Who was at Coughton-towne in Warwickshire,  
And all Recusants' Rendezvous was here.   

And by this Letter, Catesby him desired  
With all convenient expedition,  
(For so their ominous estate required)  
To stir up Wales unto Rebellion,  
And else whereas he could, all Papists slout  
To stimulate and move, to fight it out.   

Now Garnet, being with Greenewell there that time  
And surely certified, that all was known:  
Considering they were deeply in the Crime  
That his vile Sect, would (sure) be overthrown,  
Did seemeto Prophetize. Which Lord we pray  
With speed to grant, hasten that happy day.   

But, hot spurred Greenewell being more resolute,  
And fiery-spirited away doth post:  
To raise to arms Recusants dissolute,  
Hither and thither roams about the coast.  
Than at the house of Abbington he meets  
With Hall the jesuite, whom he kindly greets.   

And after salutations, him doth pray  
To work as many as he could to rise:  
But Hall as in a dump a while did stay,  
Doubting both what to say or enterprise,  
As fearing, of such rash attempts the end,  
And that thereby they'd soon him apprehended.   

To whom, so doubting, Greenwell thus began:  
Why how now man, what art thou now affright?  
Betwixt a phlegmatic fainthearted man,  
(Such as thou art) I see the difference right,  
And me, who am more choleric and hot,  
Why man? it moves not, fears not me a jot.   

And wilt thou now a milke-sop-dastard prove?  
And hide thy head now when we want most aid?  
Fie, fie, for shame take heart, and with me move  
As many as thy canst, our foes t'invade;  
With martial might these Heretics to slay,  
Nor must we now to pause, the time delay.   

And thus away he flies like Northern wind,  
And as he passed through every Town and City,  
This lie he made and published most unkind:  
That Catholics that night without all pity,  
By Protestant's should all have murdered been,  
Hoping hereby rebellion to begin.   

Wishing them all take heed and soon provide  
To save themselves and make resistance strong:  
If they desired in freedom to abide,  
To save from grave their wives and children young,  
And if they would their lives and goods possess,  
And clear themselves of imminent distress.   

Yea, if they hoped the ancient faith of Rome  
To re-establish, too too long depressed:  
Or would enjoy the sentence, laws and doom  
Of Peter's Chair, most ancient blessed and best:  
That then they should take arms against their foe,  
And with him join, no time they must foreslow.   

Than Hall the jesuite meeting after this  
With Littleton, who urged him very much,  
That since this action fell out thus amiss,  
It could not choose, but near their conscience touch,  
And that the Lord was doubtless much offended  
With such a course, as so much blood intended.   

But Hall as white-livered as erst he seemed,  
As simple Doves as jesuits, would appear,  
As harmless holy Lambs as they're esteemed,  
Now doffs the mask which he before did wear,  
The violent and virulent heart's gall  
He now declares even of the jesuits all.   

For why, in steed of humble acknowledgement,  
And of contrite confession of his fault,  
Whereof he seemed before him to repent,  
When Greenwell him to stir up rebels wrought,  
He devilishly began to justify  
Their most atrocious vicious villainy.   

And thus he answered Littleton's great doubt:  
judge not (quoth he) the cause by th'ill event,  
For why the eleven Tribes, which two battles fought  
Against Benjamin at God's commandment,  
In both the conflicts those Tribes had the worst,  
Shall we therefore affirm their cause accursed?   

So when as Lewis King of France did fight  
Against the Turks, himself o'th' plague did die,  
And all his host by Turks were put to flight.  
The Christians eke defending valiantly  
Their Town of Rhodes against Pagans', lost the same,  
Must we the cause then by th'event here blame?   

Not, good Sir, not, be sure our cause was good,  
How ere the event hath proved and fallen out cross,  
Than for Religion, thus to spend our blood  
What greater cause to hazard greatest loss?  
Thus, thus, this bloody jehuite did persuade  
This Papist, who was therewith well appaide.   

Doubtless great Lucifer could never find.  
Amongst all his hellish Hags, more flinty hearts,  
Nor apt instruments to please his mind,  
To act his most infernal tragic parts:  
Than these inhuman jesuits Satan's Sect,  
These most pernicious props which Rome protect.   

To Robert Winter's house those Rebels came,  
Where that rank jesuite Father Hammond, he  
To show his zeal to this fowl work of shame,  
Gave to these Traitors absolution free:  
Even then when they were in rebellion hot,  
After the blessed discovery of the plot.   

This holy Father of that Hell-spawned Sect,  
Bade these rebellious Traitors courage take,  
For why, their Highpriest highly did respect  
Their zeal, and would them Saints and Martyrs make.  
These pious words Ignatians Imp did utter, 
When the Steed is stolen, shut the stable door.   
Showing the Pope's great pardon sealed with Butter.   

Hell being now broke lose, though but a while,  
Sends forth more Hellhounds, Bloodhounds fierce and fell,  
Grant, whose fowl hopes heaven also did beguile,  
Whom none did yet of this discovery tell:  
For why, he kept his house and stirred not out,  
Till he supposed all now past fear and doubt.   

For he resolved not to stir forth of's house,  
Until the next day that th'attempt were ended,  
Than like a Tiger fierce himself doth rouse  
And all his power to mischief now he bended:  
But he which makes his reckoning and his price  
Without his Host, must make his reckoning twice.   

And as those forty jews which vowed and swore,  
That in their ambush they S. Paul would kill:  
So Grant what he had sworn to long before,  
Now hopest' effect his most accursed will:  
And with his rabble of Recusants stout,  
Perfidious Papists, now he issueth out.   

He then by night to Warwick Castle went,  
Where divers Nobles dwelling thereabout,  
In time of peace, wars danger to prevent,  
Fed and bred up great horses strong and stout:  
Which he did steal, and to their Camp convey,  
Their owners to confront, repulse and slay.   

This most audacious fact, bred such suspicion  
In Sr. Fulke Grevill th'elder, who was then  
Of Warwick Shire Lieutenant. This th'ambition  
And robbery of these bolder rebellious men,  
Caused him (I say) most like a worthy Knight,  
To gather up munition for a fight.   

And with all speed he fortified those parts,  
And all the chiefest Gentlemen there dwelling  
He hereunto exhorts, and wins their hearts,  
Fearing (as 'twas indeed) some strange rebelling:  
And wise directions he sent up and down  
Into each village, place and neighbouring town.   

So that as these vile Traitors roamed about,  
A Smith gave Winter such a sudden blow,  
As had he not been rescued by their rout,  
He had been caught ere they did further go:  
But at that time the Townsmen sixteen took,  
The rest in haste their captived Mates forsook.   

Now as they fled, I mean Grant and his Mates,  
At length with Catesby, Percy and the rest  
He meets, and him with them associates,  
To whom then Catesby their estate expressed:  
Told Grant their enterprise was now descried,  
And that they now th'event thereof must bide.   

Thus rs they altogether trooped in haste,  
Sr. Richard Verney Sherive of Warwicke-shire,  
Forth of his confines these vile Rebels chased,  
And so they passed into Worster-shire,  
Still hoping their rebellious troopet' augment,  
But our good God their hopes did still prevent.   

Mean while that they these tumults thus did raise,  
The Honourable Harrington thereby,  
Who to his glory and near ending praise  
Did educate, with love and loyalty,  
The King's eldest Daughter Lady Elizabeth,  
Whose fear and fright him greatly pitieth.   

He then, I say, with this his Princely jewel,  
Whom he more dearly nearly tendered  
Than his own life: hearing of this most cruel  
And traitorous uproar, he soon assembled,  
And to him called his loving faithful friends:  
Whom all his gates to lock he straightway sends.   

And with a double watch he strongly penned  
His house, being fortified against ingruent fear,  
Their traitorous intentions to prevent,  
But yet his heart doubted her safety there:  
For, in his private house he thought not good  
Her long to keep, and thus in doubt he stood.   

But taking counsel he most prudently  
Doth thus resolve, her forthwith to convey  
Unto the stately City of Coventry:  
Which from his house was distant no great way,  
Whose duteous Citizens good government,  
Hath made this City famous, eminent.   

Being also fenced with a strong built wall:  
And thither comes this Peer and Princess fair,  
The Citizens with joy assembled all,  
With one consent they do themselves prepare  
This Princely Lady thereto entertain,  
In glistering arms her safety to maintain.   

The City Maior and all his Brethrens grave,  
In scarlet gowns, and massy chains of gold,  
With kindest salutations cry, God save  
Our gracious Princess, whom when they behold,  
With fear oppressed in her tender mind,  
All grief they banish with these words most kind.   

Be comforted, sweet Princess, we you pray,  
For we with all our Citizens are priest,  
In your defence the foe to foil and slay,  
Our strength, our fortunes, nay, which is the best,  
Our loyal hearts, lives, blood and valiant a●meses,  
Ready to give your foes most fierce alarms.   

Our gold, our goods, our love and labours all  
We will not spare (sweet Princess) you to pleasure:  
Yea whatsoe'er is ours, you yours may call,  
Even to the utmost of our chiefest treasure:  
These words the tender Lady's heart rejoice,  
Whom they throughth' City lead with cheerful voice.   

Conducting her unto a house prepared,  
Most sumptuously set out, and richly dight:  
Befitting her estate and great regard,  
Where a strong guard was kept both day and night:  
And watch and ward the City round about,  
And careful search whosoe'er went in or out.   

Now all this while this band of Bandogs rage  
And rove about, like wild Boars in the chase  
Sweeting, entreating aid and equipage,  
For these affairs, but nothing could take place:  
'Twas all in vain, for none how bad soever  
Would with them join, but from them, themselves sever.   

Nay scarce a man of all their own profession,  
So vile a Catholic could they then find,  
In whom their plaints would make the lest impression,  
Or to their factious fact a whit inclined:  
Such was the hatred of this hellish deed;  
Such love of quietness sweet Peace did breed.   

And when they had got all they could entreat,  
Some fourscore persons was the most they had:  
And yet do what they could, pray, swear or threat:  
Even their own servants shrunk away full glad,  
Both fearful of success and conscience prick,  
Knowing against thorns it was in vain to kick.   

But these religious Romists fond thought,  
And idly dreamt they were of nature right  
Like little Snowballs, which i'th' Snow being wrought  
And rolled to and fro, grow of great height,  
And hugely are increased: These Traitors so,  
Thought Rebels would like Rivers to them flow.   

They surely thought that what they had begun  
In this one part of England, would incite  
All Catholics to sympathise and run  
To arms, with them to join their power and might:  
Which also though their lying jesuits sought,  
Yet heaven their hellish hopes did bring to naught.   

Wherhfore like vagrants straggling to and fro,  
Through all those parts, hopeless and clean bereft  
Of comfort, aid, or counsel; as they go  
Poor people gazing on them, never left  
To prosecute with bitter execration  
The devilish actors of this innovation.   

These miserable Miscreants than did enter  
Into a mighty Wood, and thence they came  
To Holbeach: where they boldly did adventure  
Into the house of Littleton by name:  
Being most spacious, able to contain  
These desperate devils and their damned train.   

Hear than they pitched their most nefarious camp,  
Whose great despair and worse disparagement  
Struck to their hearts such madness, wrath and damp,  
As made them rage like Furies violent,  
Like angry Bears, who when their whelps are slain,  
Run up and down, ramp, rage and roar amain.   

The gates and doors some look up and fast bar,  
Others their pieces charge with powd'r and shot,  
Some whet their swords and fit them for the war,  
Others their armour scour from rust or spot,  
Their vain and haire-braind labour was but lost,  
And must them all their dearest heartblood cost?   

For now St. Richard Walsh the High-sherive came,  
And did the house begirt with soldiers slout,  
And sent to th' Rebels one, who should proclaim  
His proffered mercy, if they stood not out:  
By him he them entreats not to resist,  
But peaceably from further harm desist.   

Advising them their weapons to forsake,  
To yield unto the mercy of their Prince;  
But if they'd not his gentle warning take,  
He quickly would their stubborn hearts convince:  
That few by arms but of such clemence failed,  
But many by submission have prevailed.   

That potent Conqueronrs those to mercy take,  
Which voluntarily to mercy yield:  
Therefore he promised, he would for their sake  
In their behalf, entreat the King most mild,  
Their youthful folly mildly to forgive,  
To grant their lives a better life to live,   

The Sum'ner in his Master's name thus said:  
But they, like madmen, cruelly entreat  
The messenger; and him this answer made,  
Go, tell thy Master we do scorn his threat:  
If he by dint of sword will force us yield,  
He must bring greater forces to the field,   

Wish him break off from this his woman's fight,  
And vainly with us to contend in words,  
That silly syllables are too too slight,  
To daunt our manlike hearts. we'll trust our swords:  
But when this valiant Gentleman did see  
Himself and's counsel scorned, to arms did flee.   

While things thus past, a most strange accident  
Happened within, which did these Traitors fright,  
A sore forerunner of due punishment  
From heaven was sent, their treachery to requited:  
Namely, that by a fire of wood did lie  
A bag of powder, which they then did dry.   

Not far from which, close by the fire side,  
A trey of gunpowder uncovered stood:  
Into which trey a crackling spark did glide,  
Which flew from forth the fire, being made of wood,  
And fired it, so that most furiously  
It with fierce flames and smoke flew up on high.   

And with resistless rage like Aetna's flame,  
The roof o'th' house it reft and cleft in sunder:  
And on the face of Catesby fiercely came,  
To all his traitorous mates a maze and wonder:  
Grants face it also scorched, Rookwood also,  
Did not in this great judgement untouched go.   

But, like unto the foul stigmatic slaves  
Of Dionysius, brinded in their face  
They marked were, their bodies seemed the graves  
Of heart and senses, in such woeful case  
They stood astonished, pale faced, faint, affright,  
Their hair did stare with horror bolt upright.   

Now, Robert Winter dreamt that he did see  
(The day before this fearful accident)  
Steeples to stand awry, and as't might be,  
Strange faces in those Churches: this event  
Caused him this his dream to mind to call,  
And thereof thus made him resolve withal.   

That those strange faces whereof he then dreamt  
And saw i'th' Churches, were right like those same,  
And did unto him lively represent  
The Visms of these whom thus the powder flame  
Had burned and scorched, this him amazed much,  
And did this traitor's heart most deeply touch.   

And then with guilty conscience they remember  
Their Epidemic purposed treachery:  
Confessing Christ to be a just revenger  
Of such gross wickedness, great villainy:  
Their country's causeless ruin they did mind,  
The fires they should have kindled most unkind.   

Yea than they seem to see the great bloodshed,  
Which from their harmless brethren's corpse should run,  
Wherewith the ground should grievously be spread,  
And on their bended knees they now begun  
To wring their hands, with tears their fault confessing  
Beating their breasts, their groans & griefs expressing.   

And now too late they do lament their folly,  
Acknowledging this judgement to be just:  
And heavens just wrath 'gainst them to be most holy,  
Cursing the time they did such Counsel trust;  
Read, OH ye Atheists, read, and mark this well,  
Which are persuaded there's no heaven nor hell.   

Yea read, o you, blind jebusites of Rome,  
Which think heaven marks not, nor regards men's deeds,  
And which to pluck God out of heaven presume,  
Esteeming less Hells flames, then crackling reeds.  
Saying with David's fool, God sees us not:  
The Almighty slumbers, and hath us forgot.   

O, if within you any shame remain,  
Or if you have not brows more hard than brass,  
If that your hearts jest tenderness retain;  
Or if one spark of grace may from you pass:  
Than think, nay doubt not, but the Lord doth fight  
For his afflicted flock their wrong to right.   

If Piety be not extinct, exiled,  
Or if y'have not less reason than bruit beasts,  
Than read Gods judgements and his mercy mild,  
And learn to reverence and observe his hests,  
Know that the Lords invincible strong arm,  
The righteous and religious saves from harm.   

By whom (o impious Synagogue) you are,  
By whose great power, you live, move, have your being  
Without whom you are naked, wretched, bore,  
And without whom, your eyes are blind, though seeing:  
Yea wanting him, you want true power to speak,  
And sacrilegiously his laws you break.   

Yea he alone protects, props, propogates  
Us, and our actions, and intentions all:  
Even God it is who guides our states and fates,  
Who sees and smiles at men fantastical:  
he'll soon lay hold on, catch at unawares,  
The proud malicious, in their nets and snares.   

The Craftsmaster in his own craft is caught,  
As doth this former precedent present  
In that these Powder-plotters, which had wrought  
By powder so great danger: first were brent  
In their own fire, for innocents prepared,  
God's justice 'mongst them their own mischief shared.   

And this like peril to Perillus fell,  
That cunning Carver, expert engin-maker:  
Whose workmanship pleased phalaris so well,  
That of his mischief he was first partaker:  
O let this therefore move all traitors hearts,  
That heaven will surely pay them their deserts.   

But to proceed, the hooded Hypocrite  
A while may cozen, cog, entreat, intrude,  
But long it shall not last. God will off finite  
Their impious vizard, wherewith they delude  
The eyes of mortal man, and this abuse  
The Lord will to their sorrow soon reduce.   

For, presently their temporising tears  
Were dried up, their sorrow soon forsaken,  
No Piety or shame in them appears,  
And their new virtues, old vices mistaken:  
A sudden madness did all grace push out,  
Opening their gates, they all being armed rush out.   

And like mad dogs or Gaderens devilish hogs,  
They headlong run amongst their enemy,  
Despairing with their conscience heavy clogs;  
Smiting on all sides, here, there, furiously:  
Vowing and swearing, since such was their fate,  
To cell their hateful blood at a dear rate.   

The valiant foresaid high Sh'riff ceased to treat,  
Seeing, as is declared 'twas all in vain:  
And with a martial spirit in furious heat  
Them to entreated duty doth constrain:  
Strongly they fight on both sides, these for fame,  
The other fight with desperate fear and shame.   

Than Thomas Winter vaunting in the Court,  
Being shot i'th' shoulder lost the use of's arm,  
And traitorous Rookwood one of this consort,  
Was also shot, and had no little harm,  
After that both the Wrights with shot were slain,  
Which much discouraged their perfidious train.   

With cursed Catesby, Piercy pestilent  
Doth join himself, and so fight back to back:  
Unto whose sides the traitor Winter went  
And thus this knot of Knaves do hold them tack,  
Placing themselves in manner like a wedge,  
They boldly fight it out with swords sharp edge.   

The traitors smite their foes with furious blows  
These do themselves defend, their foes offend,  
And as the fight of Bulls, as story shows,  
Being by sturdy dogs on all sides penned  
And sorely set upon, they tail to tail  
With their strong horns the furious dogs assail.   

But, as Alcides, though most stout and strong,  
Or Theseus brave, for all his courage bold,  
Against many foes could not continued long:  
Not more could these their enemies long hold,  
For at them presently a gun was shot  
Whose bullet both these traitors deadly smote.   

Through Piercies and vile Catesby's body strait  
This bullet pierced, when with a deep fetched groan,  
Their feeble knees too weak to bear the weight  
Of their declining bodies, both fell prove  
Upon the earth, struggling with pangs of death,  
And quicky gasped their last most hateful breath.   

And like two mighty Oaks, whose branches high  
May seem to touch the top of heaven fair;  
But by a rapid whirlwind suddenly  
Are blown, and overturned, whose branches are  
Laid low upon the earth, the bows being meat  
For cattellin the field to browse and eat.   

Thus to these cursed Champions of the Pope  
It did directly happen, justly fall:  
Who had already swallowed up in hope  
England's fair Realm and seat Imperial:  
Yea, in their most infernal fond conceit,  
Th'had climbed the top of high promotions seat.   

But see with shame their high Pyramids  
Of hateful pride, shattered in pieces small:  
Their odious flesh (for so it heaven did please)  
Left for to feed fowls, beasts and worms withal,  
But Rookwood, Winter, Grant, alive were taken,  
And all the rest of succour soon forsaken.   

Hear Robert Winter having boldly fought,  
His Catiline and hot Cethegus slain:  
Not able longer now to hold them out,  
By his fiercefoes alive was quickly ta'en:  
And with a pike i'th' belly he received,  
A dangerous wound, but not of life bereaved.   

The rest I say, being taken and disarmed,  
Were thus subjecteth unto justice stroke:  
By prick of Conscience, then by death more harmed:  
Their fainting hearts confounded, wounded broke:  
And as the custom is with hempen bands  
They were fast bound behind, their backs their hands   

Most deadly sick was Catesby and his train,  
Of Achabs' foul disease, his stomach cloyed  
With Naeboths' vineyard, none could ease his pain:  
Till bloody jesabel her skill employed  
To give him Physic, with poor Naboths' blood,  
But our vile Achabs' case far worse stood.   

For why? although their greedy appetite  
Old Achabs' did exceed, and that proud Who,  
This upstart jesabel of Rome's great spite,  
Moore mischief did devise than she of yore:  
Yet since they could nor kill nor yet possess,  
They were in far more desperate wretchedness.   

And now by happy consequence to us  
It falleth out, that Percy's treacherous pate  
Should stand as Sentinel pernicious,  
Where he was Captain Pioneer of late:  
And Lambeth to be Catesby's Horizon,  
Which was his Arsenal till his hopes were gone.   

And on the house of Parliament full high,  
Their Crow-pickt skulls, placed like a ships high mast,  
(To use the Prophet's words) that passers by  
May understand, what end befell at last  
Unto those roving, robbing Pirates vile.  
Who hoped to rise by treason, theft, and guile.   

Who by ambitious and pernicious ways,  
The Golden Fleece thus hoped to obtain:  
Not by stout jasons merit and just praise,  
But by Medea's so rceries: in vain  
They gaped toget their golden-fleece their prize,  
This did they fond in their hearts surmise.   

wasps here we see make combs as well as Bees,  
But, for sweet honey there we Powder find:  
Their hearts contain naught but the dregss and Leeses  
Of a most corrupt cankered treacherous mind:  
See here thou Pole-shorne Papist what's the end,  
See what reward your treasons do attend.   

See, you Achitophel's, you jesuits all,  
The end of your Counsel to your Absalon, 
Malum consilium consultori pessimum.   
Bad council still, to th' Author's worst doth fall,  
A woeful end rash gests attend upon.  
And these who like great Consuls would have reigned,  
As base Conspirators are now arraigned.   

And like as fond Empedocles did east  
Himself, even headlong into Aetna's flame;  
Hoping, that if he could unspied have passed,  
TO have been esteemed a God with endless Fame:  
But when the flames, his slippers did retort,  
His hare-brained folly each one did report.   

So these, which hoped, which fond hoped to be  
Not less than Saints, by this their Aetna's plot:  
God, who in mercy did their mischief see,  
And what strange folly did their minds besot:  
The slippers of discovery did cause  
To foolifie, their deified applause.   

And by this blessed Catastrophe, to call  
And justly term them, most notorious Traiters:  
In stead of that usurped name, they all  
Hoped for, to wit, Rome's meritorious Martyrs,  
And cursed be they which call such evil good,  
Accursed Rome's doctrine grounded thus on blood.   

Now then to London fast on horseback tied  
They were conveyed, and people flock to meet  
These monsters of mankind, whom being spied,  
With execrable curses they do greet:  
Threatening, abjuring, hating in their heart  
These which thus hoped to act so foul a part.   

Whose mention, unto aftertimes may be  
Supposed a thing devised, not enterprised:  
So much the credence and the verity  
Are different, by man's judgement to be poised:  
Thus as they passed, I say, with much ado  
Men were restrained their present wrath to show.   

Some if they had their wills, alive would tear  
Their cursed corpse, others in mind invent▪  
And wish strange death their damned souls to bear  
From earth to Lucifer, who for them sent:  
And thus to London being brought at last,  
In prison with fetters they were locked fast.   

Some few days after was th'appointed day  
For their arraignment, and as use required,  
The Nobles and the judges in array  
Unto their judgement came, where with admired  
And learned eloquence deliberately  
The King's Attorney than did signify.   

And recapitulate, from first to last  
The foulness of this execrable deed:  
With every most material fact which passed,  
And then to judgement forthwith they proceed:  
The conscience-pricked prisoners did confess,  
That what they did 'twas for Rome's holiness.   

And that they had for their most firm direction,  
The precepts of Rome's Faith, and holy rite,  
The zeal whereof was a most strong suggestion  
To execute her will, with all their might,  
Which precepts are, by force, fraud, or deceit,  
By poisons, treasons, murder, curse or threat,   

By just, or unjust means, howsoever to kill  
The Huguenots, Caluinists, Lutherans,  
Which do oppose themselves to her great Will,  
If Rome but sand against them her Bulls and bans,  
And all's most true (they teach) the Pope doth say,  
Or charge her children, for, 
* Alluding to Pope joane.  she cannot stray.   

Hence we may note that Rome's rebellious brood  
All other malefactors far transcend,  
For though it cannot be gainsaid, withstood,  
But some in all professions do offend  
Either by murder, treason, whoredom, theft,  
For which they justly are of life bereft:   

Yet when they are to die, they near accuse  
The doctrine or religion they profess  
To be the cause, that they did so abuse 
A very remarkable observation in the Romish Martyrs as they are falsely termed.   
Themselves, their souls, with hart-stained guiltiness:  
But that their natural bad inclination,  
And want of grace, wrought that their desolation.   

But, these besotted Eate-Gods void of shame,  
These foul birds, thus their own nests to bewray,  
Do not their Natures, but Religion blame,  
And if in aught, Herein the truth they say:  
But o, o misery beyond compare,  
That with such woe they thus contented are.   

O if the understanding eye be blind,  
If once the Lord unto ourselves us leave,  
How hard it is Truth's perfect paths to find:  
How hard the Truth from error to perceive:  
OH woe to those which shut up heavens gates,  
Both from themselves and their seduced mates.   

OH strong delusions, as St. Paul doth call them,  
O poisonous cup of Romish fornication:  
How can it choose but danger must befall them,  
That are bewitched with such strange incantation:  
O if the blind do lead the blind both stumble,  
Nay both do headlong into mischief tumble.   

The judges grave pronounced their judgement just,  
And them and their religion damned to hell,  
Which doth ptoduce such fruits, and in them trust,  
And then that Scripture they remember well  
My dear Disciples, go, and teach each Nation,  
Baptizing all men to regeneration,   

Clean contrary, this base child of perdition  
The Pope of Rome his blind disciples teacheth  
Saying, OH my Sons receive mine admonition  
Which here your Holy Father to you preacheth:  
Go extirpate, kill and confounded each Nation  
Which doth refuse our yoke and domination.   

O! is not this a brood of Viper's vile?  
Yea are not these the very Spawn of Hell?  
And Pluto's Locusts full of fraud and guile,  
The Furies of avernus fierce and fell:  
Satan their Father's footsteps t'imitate,  
By sword and fire Virtue to ruinated?   

From whose most damned counsel and devise  
They Spider-like this Stygian poison sucked,  
Which treacherous Fanks that vessel full of Vice,  
To us t' administer, they did instruct:  
Doubtless the Devil was not a little glad,  
That he sorich a prey and purchase had.   

For to his ancient friend doth Pluto say,  
OH Fanks thou seest th'effect of our intentions,  
How I to thee did show and open lay  
Hell's secrets, hidden counsel, strange inventions,  
Nor shall we without some consorts return,  
Unto black Bohemian-tartar where souls scorch and burn.   

Indeed, I must confess, we did expect  
A greater harvest, far more company:  
But this shall now suffice, and we'll erect  
Unto ourselves trophies of victory  
For this attempt, Fortune hereafter may  
Grant us a time, more mischief to display.   

And to the full our counsel to contrive:  
Yea all our new found stratagems to try,  
Nor shall this fact Hell's counsel quite deprive  
Of future hopes: Hell is not yet drawn dry,  
Our coffers are not empty; yet, indeed,  
This last, did all our others far exceed.   

Yet many tuns of treachery remain,  
And deep deceit, which are not yet abroach,  
Which future times shall taste of to their pain,  
As fast as we in favour can encroach,  
With our choice friends in Court, Rome's champions bold, 
●os, o Rex magne cau●t●.   
For these are they, which all our hopes uphold.   

This said, to justice he doth leave them all,  
Not other comfort then disconsolation  
From Pluto they receive: a thing usual  
To subtle Satan, who by's instigation  
Doth cause men sin, and when they are to die, 
Note this.   
Comfortless leaves them in most misery.   

O therefore, you, whose hearts and senses all  
Are thus bewitched by Circe's poisonous potion:  
With love of Rome's great Whore, recall, recall  
Your understanding, from this blind devotion:  
A biure that doctrine, cease to call them blest,  
In whom such maps of mischief are expressed.   

Learn with relenting tears, repenting heart,  
Rome's subtle Sirens, juggling jebusites  
far from you to repel, with speed departed  
From Magog's cursed marks, mere Canaanites,  
OH take unto you Christ's Collyrium sweet,  
And you shall see how they from truth do fleet.   

Yea, you shall then perspicuoufly perceive,  
That they true Faith do impiously pervert:  
And notwithstanding that, they will not leave,  
God's Saints with malice on all sides to gird;  
Afflicting them with dangers and despite,  
Yet shall the just prevail and stand upright.   

For why, both Christ and all the heavenly host.  
Yea even the stars, according to their kind,  
Do fight for them, whereof they well may boast,  
Yea day and night, they heavens protection find:  
O why doth man then Christ's true Church disturb?  
Since Heaven resists him and his wrath doth kerb.   

Thee, thee, o England, I may happy call,  
Thou little Isle, whom father Neptune's wave  
And mighty streams embrace, I most of all  
May term most fortunate, if thou couldst have  
A perfect knowledge of thy blessed estate,  
Or Heavens rich mercies wouldst commemorate.   

If in the tables of a thankful heart,  
And registers of never ending days,  
Thou wouldst imprint, impress, to all impart  
The endless, matchless due deserved praise  
Of thy ereliving, all-good-giving King,  
Which still doth fill thy heart with each good thing.   

O say, how often? and from what great assaults,  
Hath heavens protection safely thee protected?  
Which were brought on thee for thy grievous faults,  
God in his mercy having thee respected:  
And when thou wast in danger almost drowned,  
Thy proud presumptuous foes he did confounded.   

Witness that great assault in Eighty eight,  
When as the faithless Spaniard, impious, proud,  
Insulting and consulting with great hate,  
Our fearful, final, fatal ruin vowed,  
And their great madness to this pass had brought,  
That English Seas with Spanish ships were fraught.   

So huge a Navy had they then provided,  
Like that of Xerxes against th' Athenians bold:  
And by such bloody Champions strongly guided,  
That had not God their cruelty controlled,  
And sent us two Themistocles most stout,  
Brave England's lustre had been clean put out.   

For stout Lord Howard and Sr. Francis Drake,  
By heavens assistance, fought so valiantly:  
That at the length they made their proud foes quake,  
And (maugre all their power) to yield or die:  
And captivated many captains great,  
The rest the Seas devoured for fishes meat.   

Great was the Lord, in this great victory;  
And great his mercy, that time to thee shown,  
In this great freedom thy blessed liberty,  
Calming un-civill-civill discords grown:  
Lopping their sprigs, cropping them in the flower,  
That they could near take root or raging power.   

How often hath the Lord from thee withheld  
His all-devouring plague and pestilence?  
Whose great mortality hath killed and quelled  
Men of the highest place and eminence:  
Without respect of simple or of sage,  
Of Cottage, or of Palace, sex or age,   

Instead of famine's foul deformity,  
He hath in thee placed rivers which do flow  
With milk and honey, the blessed harmony  
Of peace and plenty, yea this Land doth show  
Like fertile ●anaan, no Land ere did find  
Dame Nature's bounty in like various kind.   

Yea thou, o England, justly seem'st to be  
Another world, all things afresh renewed  
A pleasant Paradise, wherein's the Tree  
Of Knowledge, wherewith thou art richly endued:  
Wherewith, I say, thou dost all Nations pass,  
As far as Crystal doth thick spotted glass.   

And for to make thy glory more complete,  
Thy bliss and blessedness more clear to shine:  
The Lord hath given thee Manna Angels meat,  
The glorious Sunshine of his Word divine:  
His everlasting Gospel, light of Grace  
Most precious pearl, which Wisdom doth purchase.   

Whose most unvaluable estimation,  
Doth more surpass the gold and silver fair,  
The precious jewels, gems of Indieses Nation,  
Or wealth treasure of Arabia rare:  
Than doth bright Phoebus in his glorious light,  
The brightness pass of twinkling stars by night.   

Do but compare this thy beatitude,  
With other Nations want and woeful case,  
Who are even pined with th'amaritude  
Of foggy ignorance and error base,  
Living (alas) in beastlike wretchedness,  
As in the shade of death most comfortless.   

Without the knowledge either of God or Christ,  
Without whose knowledge all's but dirt and dross:  
And worshipping instead of God the highest,  
Unto their soul's perdition, fearful loss,  
Dumb Idols, rotten timber, metals vile,  
Which underfoot they should tread and defile.   

And as i'th' days of our forefathers dear,  
In Egypt, in the Land of Goshen small,  
God's love to Israel chiefly did appear:  
So hath the Lord blest England most of all.  
And far before all others in thee placed  
The light of justice, wherewith thou art graced.   

Reigning down showers of heavenly Nectar sweet,  
far richer than Danae's rich golden shower:  
Making his word a Lantern to thy feet,  
Guarding thy soul with his celestial power,  
Giving thee all things to thy hearts desire,  
Needful or necessary to require.   

So that thou mayest, now freely thus confess,  
To heavens high honour, and thy hearts content:  
That God to thee more mercy doth express,  
Than t'any Nation in Earth's continent:  
Wherhfore since thou heavens blessings thus dost find,  
Prove not ingrateful, churlish or unkind.   

Be not more blind than earth-devouring moles,  
Nor more unthankful than the sluttish Swine,  
Who feed on fruit, which from the tree down rolls,  
Thither whenceed fell, near casting up their eyen,  
Not caring how they came by't, nor do thou  
Receive Gods blessings, careless whence, or how.   

Shake off, and shun such great impiety:  
Such gross ingratitude and brutishness,  
And let your tongues to all posterity  
With thankful hearts acknowledge and confess  
The most admired lest deserved favour  
Of thy so gracious God so sweet a Saviour.   

Who plenteously replenisheth and fills  
Thy soul with blessings of his blessed right hand:  
Sweet drops of mercy daily he distilleth  
Upon thy head, who doth as Guardian stand,  
And doth refel, repel the dangers great  
Which furious foes do menace, work, or threat.   

Snatching the prey from forth their hungry jaws,  
Thrusting them headlong into their own pit:  
Recovering it from their most bloody claws,  
And tearing teeth, wherewith they would have bit,  
Nay utterly have swallowed at one meal,  
Our Kingdom, King, Peers, Prophets, Commonweal.   

Which hath thee blest with amiable Peace,  
Even such as our old Ancestors near knew:  
Nor to our children's children's joys increase  
Is likely to be seen, or ere ensue:  
Yea God alone hath given us this great rest,  
And his great love thus largely hath expressed.   

That God (I say) whose majesty and might,  
Whose greatness, goodness, justice, works of wonder,  
The heavens, the earth, seas and each breathing wight,  
Rain, hail, frost, snow, lowd-winds, lightning & thunder,  
Do mightily show forth, tell and declare,  
What Heathen God, with thy God may compare?   

He is thy Saviour, Shield and Buckler strong.  
To him, both for thy being and blessed estate,  
Doth all thanksgiving, praise and laud belong:  
Whose tender mercy most compassionate,  
Whose patience and whose power infinite,  
To future times all people shall recite.   

O let us then, o let us never cease,  
In heart and voice his praises to record,  
Yea on loud trumpets let his praise increase,  
In Hymns and Psalms, o laud the living Lord:  
Proclaim his fame to th' Hyperborean coasts,  
To those whose clime continual Summer roasts.   

Let Phoebus first leave off his annual course,  
And Phoebe want her monthly borrowed light:  
Let Neptune stop the Ocean's billowing source,  
And Nature want in all things wont might:  
Yea Lord, then let us cease to be, we pray:  
When inoblivion we thy mercies lay.   

But, doubtless, if this duty we neglect,  
Like those ingrateful Lepers of King Saul,  
The Lord most justly will our sins correct,  
And on our heads his heavy hands will fall:  
Nothing the Lord can worse endure or hate,  
Than thankless persons, and the mind ungrate.   

The Husbandman, which plenteously doth sow,  
The greater harvest justly may expect:  
The Land where naught but thorns and thistles grow,  
Though well manured, no man doth much respect:  
Since God hath given, he looketh to receive:  
O let's take heed how we our duty leave.   

Did God with grievous punishments afflict  
His holy offspring, faithful Abraham's seed?  
When they themselves to folly did addict,  
And him forget, that did them so long feed,  
Abusing his most gracious clemency,  
His patience, love, and sweet facility.   

If his peculiar people he not spared,  
Who first his laws and worship did enjoy:  
If thus for their ingratitude it fared,  
That they were smitten with such dire annoy:  
Alas, what madness should the Gentle move?  
To think that God doth him more highly approve.   

And since he hath cut down his choicest vine,  
Thinkest thou the fruitless wild olive shall stand?  
O not, it soon shall whither, rot and pine,  
Like to our saviours figtree out of hand:  
And thou whom God hath thus with graces blest:  
If thankless, shalt with dangers be distressed.   

Yea, multitudes of mischiefs will thee follow,  
And troops of bloody Traitors daily strive,  
Thee in the jaws of treason up to swallow,  
Of life and liberty thee to deprive.  
Wherhfore, that thou (o England) still mayst have  
Gods friendly favour, thee from foes to save:   

Preach and proclaim, with heart, tongue, pen & voice,  
With thanks and praise, each hour, month and year,  
Yea, teach thy children's children to rejoice,  
For this so great deliverance. And to bear  
A deadly hatred, zealous detestation,  
Of Rome's false Doctrines, foul abomination.   
FINIS.   

A Psalm of thanksgiving for England's most blessed deliverance from the most horrible intended Powder-Treason practised by the Synagogue of Satan the Romish Babylonians.  
Psal. 123. 

King DAVID against the Philistines.  
King JAMES against the Antichristians.    

NOW may England confess, and say truly,  
If that the Lord had not our cause maintained:  
If that the Lord, had not our right sustained:  
When Antichrist against us furiously  
Made his proud brag, and said we should all die.   

Not long ago they had devoured us all,  
And swallowed quick, for aught that we could deem:  
Such was their rage, as we might well esteemed:  
And as the floods, with mighty force do fall:  
So had they then our lives even brought to thrall.   

Our King and Queen, the Prince and Princely race,  
Their Counsel grave, and chief Nobility:  
The Learned judges, and tribe of Levi:  
With all the prudent Statesmen of this Land,  
By Powder fierce, had perished out of hand.   

The raging streams, of Rome with roaring noise,  
Had with great woe overwhelmed us in the deep,  
But blessed Lord, thou didst us safely keep:  
From bloody teeth, and their devouring jaws:  
Which as a prey, had gripped us in their claws.   

But, as a bird out of the Fowlers grin  
Escapes away, right so it fared with us:  
Broken were their nets, and we have scaped thus:  
God that made heaven and earth, is our help then:  
His mercy saved us from these wicked men.   

O let us therefore, with all thanks and praise,  
Sing joyfully; to Christ our heavenly King  
Whose wisdom high, this fact to light did bring:  
Grant then OH Lord we do thee humbly pray,  
We may accord, to praise thy name always.    

An Epigram against jesuits, the Principal disturbers of Peace, the Authors and Firebrands of Sedition and Treachery throughout the World: OR, The Romish White Devil.  

THE Fatal Sister's Latin Poets call  
Parcaes, though Parcunt nulli they kill all: 
Qui cum jesu itis non itis cum jesuitis.   
And Latinists the thick Wood Lueus writ,  
Ceu nunquam lucens wherein comes no light.  
Bellum fierce war, is by them understood:  
Ceu nunquam bonum as near being good.  
And by the same Antiphrasis, of late  
The jesuits to themselves appropriate  
The sacred name of jesus, though their works  
Declare their lives, to be far worse than Turks.  
heavens lightness, brightness differs not so great,  
From drossy vaporous Earth: nor Southern heat  
To Northern chilling, kill frosts so far  
Are different: nor from Lara, th' Arctic star  
Is more remote than this rank of Makeshifts,  
(Whose hateful life, craft, practice, subtle drifts  
To all men are apparent) are unlike  
To Christ, or jesus doctrine: if ye outstrike  
But even their name, and do their works behold,  
Their best part then, will prove but dross to gold.  
Do thorns bear Grapes? or figs on thistles grow?  
Or the hard Oak yield tender fruit? OH Noah.  
The tree by's fruit may manifested be  
On good trees good, on ill we bad fruit see.  
The jesuits doctrine, who to know doth list,  
It doth of 5. Dees certainly consist: 
5. Dees.   
In Daunting subjects, and Dissimulation,  
Depose, Disposing, Kings, Realms, and Destruction.  
Whether the jesuits come more near to those  
Which bear the Arms of Christ, or Mars with blows  
It is a question, but with ease decided:  
As thus, Christ's soldiers ever are provided  
Of these blessed weapons, Tears, Prayers, Patience,  
These foil and spoil their foes with heavenly fence.  
But Daggers, Dags, keen Swords, Poisons, Deceit,  
Close fawning, treasons, wiles, to cozen and cheat.  
These are the jesuits Arms, and with these Arts  
The Pope to Deify, they play their parts.  
Nor Faith, nor Piety their followers have,  
They devilishly against Truth rage and rave.  
How fit those arms loiola's brats beseem,  
Britain can witness, and the whole world deem.  
I'll pass by other sleights, all in this one,  
In this great Powder-treason all were shown.  
Blush, blush, (OH jesuits) England knows too well,  
Your Counsel furthered most this work of Hell.  
Yea, impious Garnet for the traitors prayed,  
Pricked and pushed forward those he might have stayed:  
Being accessary to this damned intent,  
Which with one word this jesuite might prevent.  
Such barbarous traitors, and strange treachery  
To hide, and silence, is gross villainy:  
But o, with 
* Gencem anferte, etc.  Orisons, God to implore  
To grant success, o speak, was ere before  
In all the world like wickedness ere known?  
In any age such Monsters seen or shown?  
Which, with religious shows shelter foul Crimes,  
With virtues cloak, hiding them often, often times,  
And then, o then, I tremble to declare,  
Calling the Lord of Heaven with them to share  
In this foul fact: nor yet herewith content,  
To offer Heaven this high disparagement:  
But that they act more gross impiety,  
If any can be worse, t'heauens' Deity.  
These sacrilegious trators falsely think,  
Not surer bands themselves to tie and link  
To secrecy, and resolution strong,  
Than thereunto blasphemously to wrong,  
Our saviours glorious body and blood also,  
To their eternal and infernal woe  
And who so impious? so audacious bold?  
In's wretched hand the Eucharist to hold,  
Who was so godless, who so graceless trow?  
So rich a Pearl unto such Swine's to throw:  
Who? but a Priest, of this society,  
Wouldst know his name? 'twas Gerard certainly.  
Persuade yourselves you holy Fathers all,  
You have no wrong, though you may say we brawl,  
For naught is spoken 'gainst you but most right,  
Than blush for shame, and hide yourselves from sight,  
O heavens, o earth, o treacherous times & season  
Degenerous minds, and hard hearts void of reason,  
Truly 'tis doubtful, difficult to tell;  
Whether of these two mischiefs did excel:  
At one blow bloodily so to confounded,  
The King and Queen, three Kingdoms so renowned:  
The Nobles, Senate, thus to strike and stroy,  
By Powder them to spoil with great annoy.  
Or that Christ's glorious, sacred, body and blood,  
His holy, yea most holy Supper should  
By such damned un-bidden-guests be taminated▪  
And by this holy band conglutinated  
And linked together, with such uchemence  
To perpetrate that Stygian foul pretence.  
The Pristine Poets used in verse to sing  
The noble gests, of every Prince and King,  
But now 'tis needful in this weed-full age,  
Wherein impiety and vice do rage,  
Yea and all too too little to declare  
The hateful times and crimes which most rise are.  
Whose monstrousness to paint to public sight,  
The true relation would pass credit quite.  
For to these stains, worthy eternal shame  
Add this: which these good Fathers eke did frame:  
I mean Equinocation, which they use,  
Man's understanding neatly to abuse:  
'tis doubtless Gyges ring, for, hereby they  
Though captivated, can themselves convey:  
And with a trick which jesuits use to try,  
They can delude, and none can them descry:  
They'll smooth and sooth, and one thing to you say,  
And yet their heart goes clean another way.  
This Ambiguity was Apollo's Art,  
Under whose name the Devil played his part:  
Even Tully, may these Popish Priests repr'end,  
By whom such Lambskin Wolves are often condemned:  
Who, if he now lived, o how's eloquence  
Would thunder out loiola's impudence!  
Satan that subtle Serpent did them teach,  
This lying Art, they near heard Christ so preach.  
Are not these then Rome's White-devils? fie for shame  
Naught but bore out sides, their best part their name  
Believe me, for Christ's golden rule most true  
(If truth it be, as 'tis,) this truth doth show.  
Their inclination smells of a Fugitive  
Or Devil rather, or l'mes not alive:  
What was the Devil? a Liar, Homicide:  
What's he? a sly Dissembler, Regicide.  
And with best reason may this jesuite Devil  
Most properly be called the King's Evil.  
If then, affinity of manners vile,  
If just proportion of like fraud and guile,  
If deeds so consonant and disposition  
To practise agreeable, may with permission  
Avail to prove a truth: then (Magog) know,  
These do a great part of thy warfare show;  
And palpably declare, to th'truly wise,  
This offspring did from thee their Father rise.  
avant you Locusts, hence you Spawn of Hell,  
From whose black smoke you are derived full well.  
If still you will the name of jesus take,  
Let all men know, you do it only make  
A Cloak to hide your knavery, for you are  
But Grey Wolves bearing in your front a star.  
In stead of jesus take you judas name,  
Your hatefulllives, will best befit the same:  
For by your works we perfectly do find,  
No part with Christ is unto you assigned.    

An Epitaph dedicated to the never-ending memory of that Illustrious second Alexander, Prince HENRY, that glorious day-star of Britain's comfort, too soon hid from us by the cloud of God's wrath: that most odoriferous flower of England's Hope, too suddenly nipped by the chilling frost of heavens high displeasure.  

Ex Epic: Canta:  
A Three fold Mother God thee gave  
OH Princely Youth  
A Royal Queen, the Church, the Grave  
Which caused our Ruth.  
The Church thy Mother in her Lap the Queen in Womb  
The Grave in Clay thy Corpse doth wrap in Princely Tomb  
The Church thee made a heavenly Saint a Prince the Queen  
A Lifeless Corpse Earth doth depaint thee to be seen.  
In Church eternised is thy Name 
The Queen.   
She doth deplore  
Thy Loss. From Grave to heavens high Frame, thou 
Namely when the body as well as the soul, shall live eternally in heaven.  once shalt soar.    

Another of the same.  

Exeodem ad eundem.  
HENRY the 
As the fire or torch give, heat and light to others, but consume themselves.  Heat of All, ah, his own fire,  
HENRY brave Mars his Son, grave Arts sweet Sire,  
HENRY Arts Nourceling, and great Mars his Master,  
HENRY our Glory, but by Death, Disaster;  
HENRY Rome's Terror, whole World's Admiration;  
HENRY our day-star, and Sun's Depravation,  
HENRY the Glory of the Henry's all;  
HENRY, naught grieved us, as thy Funeral;  
HENRY the Ninth was He? nay Nine in One  
In HENRY died, the more's our grief and moan.    

A succinct Memorial of that matchless Mirror of Princely Royalty, that Queen of Virtue, Patroness of Christian Piety, and Parterne of most worthy imitable Virtues, and endowments of Grace and Goodness, Angelical ELIZABETH, late Queen of England.  

Behold the Pourtract of fair virtues Queen,  
Rare Paragon of Time, by Fame still seen,  
Sweet Nurse of Love, grave Wisdoms Darling dear,  
Religion's Fortress, Fortitudes chief Peer,  
Chastities Lamp, Faith's Nourceling, Charity,  
Constancies Bulwark, Gem of Piety:  
Delights fair Arbour, Pleasure's Palace rare,  
Where subjects hearts were freed from woe and care:  
The Flower whose top, fowl Envy near could crop,  
The Tree whose boughs, Traitors could never lordship.  
A pious Deborah to overthrow  
Proud Sisera of Rome, Christ's mitred foe.  
The Vine whose juice, t'hir subjects comfort gave,  
The Rose of England flourishing most brave.  
To whom fair Venus deigneth to give place,  
As to the Mirror of Perfections Grace.  
Whose princely, Noble, and Heroic mind,  
Bids bold Semiramis come far behind.  
Not chaste Diana with her Nymphs most fair,  
With chaste Eliza dare attempt compare.  
Whose learning, wit, and knowledge most profound,  
Parnassus Nymphs with great applause resound.  
Whose Amity, what King did not desire?  
What potent Nation dreaded not her ire?  
What puissant Kaiser could her courage quell?  
Who ere in aught Eliza could excel?  
On whom as hand maids Peace and Plenty tended,  
Whose life in glory led, in glory ended,  
And though grim Death hath robbed us of this treasure,  
And She an Angel in celestial pleasure:  
Yet still on earth her never-dying name  
Shall propagated be by sounding fame.    

An Enigmatical Riddle, which OEDIPUS himself can scarcely resolve.  

A Bird of late,  
When Birds could prate,  
Said, black's the Crow.  
The Crow replied,  
Told him he lied,  
And 'twas not so.  
Mine eyes, quoth he,  
Shall witness be,  
That I am fair;  
The Swan so white,  
And Snow full bright,  
Fowl to me are.  
The Bird again,  
Laughing amain,  
Said, strange 'tis not.  
For why, one's eye  
Cannot espy  
The stain and spot,  
Which it own face  
Doth much disgrace,  
And vilify.  
This matter strait  
To arbitrate,  
The Eagle high  
Their King they move:  
Who soon doth prove  
This folly great.  
A Mirror fair  
Bids them prepare,  
Both large and neat:  
The Crow it took,  
Therein to look,  
Whereon he gazed.  
On's shape most true,  
And proper hue,  
Which he so praised.  
Than with great shame,  
He much did blame  
His own blear eyes:  
And all thereby,  
Did laugh full high,  
And's pride despise.   

This Riddle, if thou canst resolve, thou shalt Apollo be,  
Or else another Oedipus, fair Phyllis take't to thee,   
Laus soli sit Domino.  
FINIS.