A True Copy OF A LETTER (intercepted) going for Holland. Directed Thus For his (and his Wives) never Failing Friend Roger Le Strange At the Oranges Court with Care and Speed, haste, hast, post haste.  Parvis componere magnus. 
LONDON, Printed for H. B. at his Holinesses Gun in Paul's Churchyard, where they will be Delivered to you Gratis. Feb. 10th. 1680.   

Honest Roger,  
PArdon the Expression I beseech you, I know I wrong you; but 'tis my Natural way of Speaking to all my Benefactors right or wrong, in the Front of whom I must ever place you as Chief Squire of the Quill to my Body; and the only Broom-staff of my support and maintenance, for 'tis thee dear Roger, who have supplied my Cannon with Jesuits Balls and Powder for above these Fifteen Years, and made it roar louder than all his Holinesses Bulls, or the Tantivy Trumpeters: I do not in the least Question your safe Arrival at Hanslardike, having those wonder-working Priests in your Company (men of miracles) and not a Mass said without ye: These together with that good old Proverb (I most rely on) he that's Born to be hanged (for in my Conscience that's the end on't) need never fear Drowning; secure me of your good passage, but to the business; yours from Scotland never came to my hand till Printed, through the unhappy mistake of the Messenger, who thought the Gun and Elephant had been all one, with that in Smithfield, in the Fair time, and so carried it to Smith's Castle in Cornhill; whence it came to me by Intelligence: I was Strangely confounded, when I read your hard usage there, (what thought I) is England's Crack-fart the Church's Champion, the King's confident the Tongue-Plotting Dialoguing Discovering Maskerading Just-Asse, Trusty Roger, now forced to screen himself under Jockeys Blue Bonnet of the Presbyterian Cut under the very Nose of his great Master for Shelter; it had like to broke my Heartstrings (had they not been double twisted) for grief and madness, but more of this (for a Remedy) by the next.  
Honest Tomson set out (soon after the Dissolution) for Bristol, where no less than four Dozen of our Friends came forth to receive him, but the Asses being twice the number of their Horses, it seems they were obliged to ride double, whom the Heretics have concluded them all Abhorrors, and I fear may Burn them (in Effigy) at his Holinesses next Procession: Father Patch hath summoned all the Musty good Curates in his Territories, to meet on a Certain day at the sign of the Pope's Bathing Tub in Rooks-all-street, in order to Choose some Par-Lee-men, that may join with them to Consecrate the ⊕ Bath for Holy Water, and then take it with them (in Pint Bottles) to Oxon, in order to Expel Plots and Plotters; which Tompson Swears, (as a Tried man) 'twill do infallibly; and offers (the second time) to pawn his Soul on it.  
The old Cock-loft Roger, where you and Tompson Lay has been searched for you no less than Nine times already: But that which most vexed me (besides their calling me Rascal for hiding you, and then so stoutly denying of't) they brought that poor Rogue Robin Hog; and made him hold the Candle to them; where he (like an owl) Blundering on the Old Coffer at the Beds feet, cries out what's here, a Printing Press; no sooner had they forced it open, but their (as the Devil would have it) they found your white Hat, Laced Band and Sword, with your Just-asse-ships Gold Button Coat, and the under Petticoat you had of Madam Vaultinglass wrapped up together in Tompsons' Canonical Gown: All which I had (though unluckily) just before (with much ado) Redeemed from the Lavender in Long-lane; here's the Rogue, pull him out, says the Short-staff-man: I had almost Burst myself, to see them so prettily deceived, though 'twas Damned hard (Roger) to lose the Premises, knowing your occasions for them: However off they carried them, Swearing though they miss your Carcase, they had got the Better half on you; and stuffing them out, with my old Brooms, and your Papers which lay Rusting by me, (for faith Roger, all we can Write or Print is but waste Paper, it will not take now adays) putting a Papist mask on them (as much to the Life as possible) they carried them into the Strand, and have hung you up Roger (in Effigy) on the Maypole; where you may be sure you want not for Spectators, the Heretics Flock by Droves to see you; though few knew what to make on you, that's the best on't; some says its Tom Blood in his Crown-Cheat, others 'tis a true Son of the Church Tom of Bristol, a third say 'tis a Hermaphrodite Strange-lee compounded of Giles and Cellier, a forth 'tis a Protestant in Maskerades, a fifth 'tis the mack-niny Just-asse hung up against St. David's day, to make a Taffee on, a sixth 'tis Nolls Fiddler Metemorphost; others say 'tis a Mare-maid (neither Fish nor Flesh) because of the Petticoat Roger, but the wiser sort, swear down right, 'tis old Touser, and Touser is all of them.  
Pray acquaint your Orange Mistress with the Birth of her Royal Brother (by the Father's side) which dropped lately in Scotland, to the great joy of all good Catholics, who swear (by the Mass) he's born to be a Pope infallibly; coming into the World, with his Left great-Toe in his Right hand, which posture makes the sign of the ✚ exactly: and is so hopeful a Bantling, he hath the Breviary and all the Office of our Lady by heart already; and constantly says his Pater noster Eleven times in a day; though somewhat Snuffling through the nose, which John Cadbury says (having calculated his Nativity together with the way of his procreation,) proves him to be the son of his noun Daddy, descending in a Right line from old Fenney the Sage and as like him as possible, Laxative to Admiration.  
Here hath happened some Miracles lately (besides that of the comet and the Dissolution) old Will Stafford (it seems) is forced to do Penance, for telling so much truth of the Plot and (mack-niny) our Master; though troth (Roger) I think it somewhat hard measure, I dare swear he near intended it living nor dying: Besides one would have thought (in good conscience) his last Holy Lying in denying on't, together with his Sufferings, might have made amends for that oversight, he hath held several headless conferences with their Lordships in the Tower (and some out on't) to find out some way (ere to late) how to keep off the Approaching evil day (for it must and will come Roger) either by stroking Tom's Cheeks with yellow boys in order to an escape, or else to multiply them into so many Thousands, as may pay (in part) our out guards, and some other pressing necessaries (male and Female) in order to dissolve the Enemy: for look ye Sirs (quoth Will) I tell you Vows, Oaths, Dispensations, Sham-plots, Countermines Lying and Denying, no nor the promises of either Captain or Lieutenant or both, how e'er they flatter you, can (if once they get you at the Boarded Theatre at Westminster) help you off with your Necks whole; you see (if the Fathers will give you leave to believe your own lies) I speak by experience, as well as Ned Coleman, and to say truth theirs no knowledge like it: this Last (Roger) I am informed was agreed on as the Best (because the Last) Remedy; upon which old Will took his leave, paying as much respects to their Lordships as was possible for any one under his circumstances, and took his way directly to Newgate, to visit the despairing Fathers (his last Speech-makers) where he found them in a most profound consult (together with Lame Giles and Betty Cellier in St. Colemans' Apartment) how they should also escape the approaching Nooses: Belzebub be with ye (says Will) if he be not here already; if he be not (quoth Manson) you Lop headed Dotard, did his Devilship ever leave any of our Profession, so long as we had a single minute's time left for Plotting; but the question, like you, and your late Reading (we heard on't) did ever Puppy Mumble over his Lesson at such a fate as you did the very Catholics (as Blind as they are) as well as Heretics swore they could see you Lie: Oh unpardonable Mortal Sinner to be so discovered, had you as many heads as Hydra, you deserved to lose them all, for that your Drunken Folly; you should have Wished, Cursed, Swore, invoked God, Angels, and Men, to bear you Witness (though in a Lie) and Dared Heaven itself to contradict you) this had been right Catholic indeed, like our dear Brethren at Tybura; and at worst but Piae Frauds; this sharp Greeting raised the Old Gentleman's Choler to the same height, as when he Buggered the Boy in Hey-nauls, and Swore by Hell and Rome he'd tore them into Ato●●s, and so save the Hangman the Labour, at which menaces away Flies Giles for his Pillory Armour, and Betty to Act the second part of the Bloody Bladder, crying out, good my Lord, don't be worse than Savage, to a Woman in Labour, the Priest mean time on their Knees, at Exorcisms, Damning him by Bell-Book, Salt Spittle and Candle, with a whole Cart load of Church Curses to Pepper him; But Will defied them all, laying their Telping came to late (like Colemans' Pardon) he was as bad as bad could be already, tickling them the while with Langberns Whip, 'tis thought they will not live long after it; and if not hanged the sooner, will petition the Hangman for Execution; however the good man scap't not , for they had sore cut the late Stitches in his disjointed Neck in the Rencounter, so that he was forced [like St. Denis] to carry it under his Arm, down to his Holinesses Slaughter-house to have it have the Somerset; where the old Woman, that happened to see Godfrey's holy usage; and began to Cackle of it; not understanding [it seems] those Duke-all Directions, of that Blessed intrigue; 'twas thought fit by the Fathers, to send her privately on an Errand into Purgatory; where it probable old Will came acquainted with her, this very Woman [I say] getting lose, and coming [in the Dead of Night] to pay her respects to her great Mistress, attending her [as formerly] with a Chamber pot and fine Towel, met old Will at the Door of the Bed chamber, and seeing his Lordship in that pickle offered him very civilly the use of her Utensils which the good man accepted of very kindly; and so fell to Dabbling his separated Noddle in the Chamber-lye, which (I assure you Roger) was afterwards put into a Basin [Consecrated for that purpose] and placed in the Wall of the Chapel, next to the Shrine of our Lady, by the little Door, on the right hand of the Altar, the very selfsame Spot, where you used to kneel Roger, with a Red-cross over it, and Roger believe me, I speak not only the real sense of my own tried experience, but 'tis also the Catholic Faith, of all our Believing Romans its now the Best Holy Water that ever Catholic dipped in, for notwithstanding its original was but from that Chip in Porridge, 'tis wonderful in its operation, even to a Thousand Miracles, and of Fifty times the value of George Wakemans' Bottle.  
As to the old Woman she continues very diligent, in opening and shutting the Doors and Casements, making the sign of the ★ In every Corner showing the Pictures, and Relics to Friends, giving some signs of her own and Godfrey's Exit, pointing to the several places where they laid him; But the Fathers are hard at it (and if prayers fail) they are resolved to Bribe never failing Betty to lay her: But of this Roger not a word, for fear the Heretics Smoke it; old Will I hear is for certain, posted down into all Quarters (with others) our indefatigable Jesuitical, Levitical, Atheistical, Pentionary, Plotting, Trumpetting, Damning, Betraying, Abhorring Friends, to Act their utmost in this new Bustle, procured (For) and By us; with Bills of Exchange, for Thousands of French (Lumberstreet) Dust, may Bubbie the unthinking: For trust me (Roger) what e'er you design on t'other side the Herring-Brook, now is the time, or never; to save our Bacon; here's an odd Story (Roger) runs about Town, of a She Heretic (But all of our Faith believe her mad) who says (and offers to Swear to) something in White Appears to her often, foretelling the removal of some Body (to the Westward) by Poison into Limb●● Patrum, much about Cuckoo time: Certainly (Roger) this can be no Angel of ours for they (you know) are all Black; besides the Devil (surely) has more wit than to spoil a Design so much to his (and our) advantage, by telling on't, that would be to much like the Heretics, who we hope, will ruin themselves e'er long by Dividing: Hell be praised for it; yet Roger suppose (for once) it were an Angel of Light; we have taken that care before hand; he shall be Credited at Court, just like the Plot in Utopis and signify no more to them then the Comet which (they Swear) only foretold the Death of Nelles Lapet Dog: But (Roger) now I am here, let me acquaint you with my Observations, I know 'twill please you, nay there's no true Catholic, but si●g●te Deam Laudam●●, for it all the World over those Boanerges who thundered so loud lately at Rome's Doors, his Holinesses could not sleep (nay stir) for them; met with a Northern blast t'other day: puffed them out (at pleasure) to the Westward; had you been here (hodge) you had split your Guts with Laughing.  
2. To see them look (when 'twas too late) like things that could (or at least, at present would) not help it: But above all to see our late skulking Friends so Strange-lee revived upon't, Damning them as brisk as ever: I have been told the Bible says somewhere (for that's a Book I seldom meddle with) when their was no King in Israel, the People did what they would themselves: But Faith (Roger) we have just turned the Tables, ours in (and our) o'th' Church, do it when there is no Parliament; had you but heard (the 31th. passed) Tantivy Pelt-ing pay them off, with 40 and 48. you'd have sworn, he had out done you and Tompson, he told the Heretics plainly (though we shed it) the Martyr's Blood out did the Blood of Jesus, and forced it for his Argument: Next (Roger) have at the Virgins-Milk, that may outdo them both, and then he's fit for Cardinal; here I could enlarge myself (Roger) on the Fathers, 22 out of 26 at the least: But 'tis needless, 'twill do itself shortly; therefore (since 'tis late) I'll hear conclude, assuring you what now I have writ is certain truth in every syllable, and you may swear it (Roger) morally, much safer (without a Dispensation) than that you are no Papist. But a Pox on't (now I think on't) theirs a List of Queries Bawld about the Town, far worse than that o'th' Pensioners, I must acquaint you wi●h them, and they must be answered too (it Hell and Rome can do it) or else we may Write, Plot and Swear our hearts out, they'll not believe us: They call it a Match for Touzers Heraclitus Ridens, that Damned Paper has put them on't, the Devils in't, you must be Scribbling; 'tis like your Stranges case that Brought a Dozen Witnesses to Light, who proved you (through your own Fooling) to be a forsworn Villain, and a Down Right Papist; which never (perhaps) had otherways been heard of: But I'll not be passionate lest I misinform you; therefore in Cool Blood (Roger) 'twixt Jest and Earnest take them as you find them, put by Heretics, here's just half a Dozen of them 

1. Query, whether those Popish Arbitrary Designing Knave, who talk so loud of 41 and 48, ought not to begin their reckoning somewhat about 30. in the long intervals of Parliament, and tell us the whole story fairly on both sides (viz.) Monopolising Ship money, hectoring our Birthrights (Parliaments) book of liberties, Scotch Voyage, Star-Chamber, Bishop's Courts, Corrupt Judges, Massacre in Ireland (in which were Hellishly Murdered above 200000 Protestant Souls (yet Papist no Rebels remember that) seizing the necessaries (near Chester) sent by the worthy Citizens of London, to cloth and relieve those poor languishing Protestants, who had escaped the Savage Papists and lay naked under the Walls of Dublin, Commissions of Army, setting up the Standard, declaring War, now Tery say (withal your impudence, who begun first; tell us that (in truth) we'll allow the Rest, in earnest.  
2. Query, whether Scotch Oaths (with others since) Douglases Sermon, Beeda promises liberty of Conscience, Mock marriages, War with France, saving Flanders, be not in Jest  
3. Query, whether breaking Leagues, Dutch Wars, Chattam Victory, S●●irna fleet, French measures lose of Shipping, Poland-Letters. Wars in Christendom Blood of Protestants, be not in Earnest.  
4 Query, whether Divine Right, fair Speeches; true Protestant love to Parliaments just Rights, English Liberties, Plot Ignorance, Hanging Traitors, be not in jest,  
5 Query, weather grand Debauchery, Whoring Courtiers, Popish Counsels, Cheating Rogues, Hellish Plottings, saving Traitors, Rotten Peaches, French Pensioners (and Cursed English ones to) Nells of Whores, Swarms of Bastards, Macks Cut throats, horrid Murders, Burning Cities (and the Provosts house too) Sham-plotting, Countermining, Suborned Villains, False Buggeries, Papist Officers (by Sea and Land to) French Agreements, Dissolutions, buying voices, false Returns, designs to Ruin us, be not in Earnest.  
6. Query, whether Church Papist, Divine Bishops, Tantivy Abhorrors, Touzers Barking, Papists Scribbling, (to save their Bacon) and deceive the People, for Swearing the Plots mack-ninles Title, Jesuits Counsels, French Assistance, to conquer Ireland, subdue Scotland, gain Flanders, beat the Dutch, get their Shipping, be masters of the Seas, force a Rebellion, keep up the Plot, Retreeve our Cause, by getting (this Bout) a Popish Pentionary, Abhorring, Betraying, English, French, Irish, mack mongrel Parliament, who shall betray their Country, enslave posterity, destroy themselves (at last) to save Papist Traitors from hanging, whether this (I say) can be done, by all the Arts, means, ways or money, Pope or French, Duke or Devil can invent or supply; time must show:   But o'th' my Conscience (Roger) to speak freely 'tis now too Late to do the Trick: This also will prove a Jest in (Conclusion)  

Now Crack-fart Roger, let your Crack-farts Fly  
The Tell tale Comet, Scribble out o'th' Sky.  
Thy Pen Does wonders, wheels of Charles 's wain  
Turn somewhat stiff, you'll set them Right again.  
I in a Hopsack, 'tis such Knaves as you  
Crack both the Poles, and stopped their moving true.  
Go on and Scribble, till the Gallows find  
You out of Breath, the Halter stops your Wind.   
Sic voluere Fata.  
yours H. B.