Canterbury's Conscience convicted: O R, His dangerous projects, and evil intents, tending to the subversion of Religion detected: as also some particulars of those Treasons whereof he is now attainted, lying prisoner in the Tower this present. 1641. To the tune of All ye that cry O hone, O hone: or, The wandering soldier. AS by fair London's Tower I walked, I heard, a Prisoner make ●reat moan; And thus unto himself he talked, Good God from me all joys are gone. I looked about and there I found Lord Canterbury in distress, With folded arms he traced the ground, And these sad words he did express. O England England I confess, That an ill shepherd I have been, I●ought to bring thee in distress, Lord Jesus Christ forgive my sin. 'twas I that lately made a way For Popish wolves to suck thy blood, 'twas I that should have been thy stay, But ever did more harm then good. 'twas I that moved the King of late To take up arms against the Scots, I have offended King and State, But the Parliament found out my plots. And now I find an honest heart Is better than a cunning tongue, Such honest men as I did thwart, I now repent I did them wrong. My wisdom and my scholarship Advanced me to high renown, But justice gave me such a trip, That justly brought my honour down. Ambitious thoughts my mind did sway, As I did sway fair England's laws, Which made the people daily say I favoured not an honest cause. Like Icharus I sored high. And with the wings of fame I slew, But in the twinkling of an eye, Mine honours bid me all adieu. Greatness with goodness seldom meet, He is not always good that's great: Where wit and grace each other greet, That makes a gentleman complete. The second part To the same tune. HOw oft have I the laws abused, My mighty power who durst withstand, The innocent was still accused, I had the law at my command. Each day by day I showed my spite, And filled the commons hearts with woe, And whether it was wrong or right, If I said I, it must be so. I threatened the judges still, My very looks kept them in awe, Because that I would have my will, Against all reason right and law. I ruled the law, the law not me, In my high inquisition Court, And there I us●d such cruelty, Which grieves me now for to report. Now justice knows what England ails, She stands to do fair England right, She weighs my actions in her scales, And then she finds my grace too light. Had I but so much gracious been, According to my honoured place. I had been clear from many a sin, Which lately brought me to disgrace. My power was so mighty grown, As if it would o'ertop the State, But now of late 'tis overthrown, I bought it at too dear a rate. I licensed books pernitions were, Ladders to climb to Popery, Which I myself esteemed dear, My bad intents was known hereby. I lived in this glorious vain, Till England was almost undone. Until the Commons did complain, And said I was the Popes own son. But now I live to see the day Where I so much deserve your hate, I dare not now for pity pray, Because I find it is too late. England forgive thy shepherd now, That fed the wolves and starved the lam●●●, Forced them at Altars for to bow, The custom of the Popish ramme●. I well remember what I did To put the French and Dutch Churc 〈…〉 A great man's fault may long lie hid, Till justice upon him do frown. I know good Protestants they are Good subjects to the King likewise Yet I ill will to them did bear And ever more did them despise. That Cardinal Wolsie by nam●, Did build his honour on the sand, And brought himself at length to shame, That once had all at his command. I sometimes was almost as great, I only lacked a hat and staff. But now I'm fallen from my seat, And every child at me doth laugh. So farewell world and glorious name, Vainglorious name without desert: Farewell vain pomp and idle fame, Now I from you am forced to part.