The Chancellor turned TARPAULIN, Or jefferies' Case.  
TO be a Prisoner, hated, loathed, and scorned,  
With unlamented Plagues, thy Fall unmourned,  
Under approaching Torments keenest Dread,  
And 'midst a shouting Crowd unpitied led  
To meet a shameful Death, would seem t' atone  
All horrid Villainies except thy own:  
But they so numerous, great and loud appear,  
They dull Repentance, as they heighten Fear.  
Cursed by your King, your Country, and, it seems,  
You're Cursed too by your own Prophetic Dreams:  
Cursed in your Novice Years and Indigence,  
When Railing was your Law and Eloquence.  
And Cursed e'er since for Fraud and Bribery,  
Lying, Partiality, and Perjury:  
Cursed by all People prosperous and forlorn,  
And will be Cursed by Thousands yet unborn.  
Cursed by the Just and Virtuous, and what's worse,  
You have your Fathers and your children's Curse.  
Legions of Ghosts you've murdered will appear,  
And whisper on the Gallows in your Ear,  
Your byased Judgements given against the Good,  
That you might reek in Money and in Blood.  
The Tyrant when Perillus brought his Bull,  
Made the Inventor prove the first sad Howl.  
Your Whipping so (though late) should well be tried  
(Which you found out) upon your bleeding Hide.  
And thus Condemned you'll be rewarded well,  
With Pill'ry, Cart's Tail, Gibbets, Flames and Hell.  
And with your Quarters hurled into your Grave,  
Let this be wrote, I was both Fool and Knave,  
To Law and Drink a Scandal and a Slave.  
FINIS.