A satire AGAINST IN-JUSTICE: OR, Sc— gs upon Sc— gs.  

1.  
A Butcher's Son (Judge) Capital,  
Poor Protestants for to enthral,  
And England to enslave, Sirs.   

2.  
Lose both our Laws and Lives (we must)  
When to do Justice, we intrust  
So known and errand Knaves, Sirs.   

3.  
Some hungry Priests he once did fell  
With mighty Strokes, and them to Hell  
Sent furiously away, Sirs.   

4.  
Would you know why? The reason's plain;  
They had no English nor French Coin  
To purchase longer Stay, Sirs.   

5.  
The Pope, to Purgatory sends  
Who neither Money have (nor Friends;)  
In this he's not alone, Sirs.   

6.  
Our Judge to Mercy's not inclined,  
Unless Gold change Conscience and Mind,  
You are infallibly gone, Sirs.   

7. His Father, once exempted was  
Out of all Juries; Why? Because  
He was a man of Blood, Sirs.   

8.  
And why the Butcherly Son, forsooth,  
Should now be Judge and Jury both.  
Can't well be understood, Sirs.   

9  
The good old man, with Knife and Knocks,  
Made harmless Sheep and stubborn Ox  
Stoop to him in his fury.   

10.  
But the Bribed Son, like greedy Auff,  
Knelt down and worships Golden Caff;  
And so did all the Jury.   

11.  
Better hadst been at Father's Trade,  
An honest Livelihood t'have made,  
In hampering Bulls with Collars,   

12.  
Than to thy Country prove unjust,  
First sell, and then betray thy Trust  
For so many hard Rixdollers.   

13.  
Priests and Physician, thou didst save  
From Gallows, Fire, and the Grave;  
For which we can't endure thee.   

14.  
The one can ne'er absolve thy Sins,  
And th'other, though he now begins,  
Of Knavery ne'er can cure thee.   

15.  
But lest we all should end thy Life,  
And with a keen-whet Chopping-knife,  
In a thousand pieces cleave thee,   

16.  
Let th' Parliament first him undertake,  
They'll make the Rascal stink at Stake;  
And so like a Knave let's leave thee.   
FINIS.