MOCK POEM. Or, whigs SUPPLICATION. PART I.  
LONDON, Printed in the Year, 1681.   

THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY To the READER.  
Christian Reader,  
VErses are like Lady's faces, good or bad, as they are fancied (saith Don Quixot) and Mock Poems, which by't not, are like Eggs eaten without Salt (saith another of the same Metal) that is, whose Tongue was a great deal wiser than his Head.  
In those following Lines I am more Tart to none then to myself: And therefore I may be excused if I tell in Rhyme how some used me in Prose; I speak truth which is expedient to be known, and therefore no Lawyer will aver I transgress the Law.  
With all the world beside, I am like a blind man, dealing blows, not knowing whom I hit; If any shall challenge me that I touch them, I will answer, that I knew not so much before they informed me, as answered that famous Satirist to a Noble Roman, who expostulated with him for smiting him in a Poem.  
I am many ways wronged: And first, by Transcribers, who stealing Copies of my Lines, have transmitted them every where, like Pictures on the wrong side of Arras Hangings, spoiled with Thrumbs and Threads, or like Faces disfigured by the Pox, great or small, as ye please: Or like Sermons repeated by Children and Serving Lasses in a Presbyterian Family-Exercise, Or like-one of Bishop Andrews Sermons re-preached the other day by an Expectant, in his Episcopal Trial for the Ministry.  
I am, Secondly, wronged by false Copies, and that by men either malicious to bring me to trouble, or ignorant, not apprehending my scope, who in stead of mending my Lines, have marred then all. And who striving to pull me out of the Mire, hath thrown me into the Well, not to wash me, but to drown me: Or into the Fire, not to dry me, but to burn me.  
Thirdly, I am most of all prejudged by the late Dutch War, which occasioned the bringing in of such superfluity of Brandie, which entering the brain of some of the worshippers of Bacchus, hath there hatched Glosses of my Lines, like that of Orleans, destroying the Text.  
Those Brandy-Interpreters may be compared to Children espying shapes and figures in the fire; Or to those who are giddy with drink, imagining apparitions in the Clouds; or to old Wives Commenting on Merlin's or Rymers Prophecies; Or to bad Divine expounding the Revelation, who obtrud groundless fancies upon the ignorant multitude, for Evangelical truths.  
If those Gentlemen hit my meaning, any censure is too little for me; If not, no punishment is too great for them: And that for two reasons.  
First, because they apply Passages of my Lines to men of honour, of whom (God is my witness) I did not dream. Secondly, because they make the World believe I am biting those whose wounds I am licking, given by the biting of other Dogs.  
These things considered, it is easy to answer all which is objected against me. And first, some of the Society of Gotham College had an intention to burn my Lines, because I bring in whigs speaking too boldly in the Supplication, and else where. But I answer, If those Gentlemen speak as they think, I commend their zeal, but not their wisdom; And who ever shall take the pains to burn them for Witches, will lose both Coals and labour. I demand of them, if one should pen a Play of the Powder-plot, and bring in the Conspirators, exhorting each other to blow up the Parliament-house, who will tax the Author of Treason? or who will tax the Psalmist of Athiesm, for averring, The fool hath said in his Heart, There is not a God? All not mere ignorants know it is permitted to Poets, good or bad, to personate a discourse, that is, to bring in Rebels speaking Treason, and Atheists Blasphemy; And why may not I, a Poetaster, or Poet's Ape, bring in fools speaking foolishly, and wise men wisely, and yet be neither a wise man nor a fool myself? And if I be neither, I must either be a mixed man, or else nothing. And in effect some call me a mixed man, others nothing: But since those who call me nothing are highly offended at me, they mus● of necessity confess they are offended at nothing: I am more charitable to them, I think they are something. What sort of thing it is, all the world knoweth, what ever it be it is worse than nothing.  
They object, Sccondly, that without Authority I have imposed a grievous Taxation upon the Liedges, in exacting five Dollars for every Copy, which may be called treason.  
But I answer, since I charge them not with Horning to make payment, the worst they can call it is but begging, which it is not, but a nameless Contract, Do ut des. And at first I did not dream of taking Money for those Lines, until some known bitter enemies to the Presbyterians enforced each of them five Dollars on me for a Copy: they told me, I might as well take Money for Rhyme, as Ministers and Lawyers for Prose, and Physicians for nothing, and worse than nothing; Some Pleading, Preaching, and Curing (it is true) deserves Money a great deal better than my Lines: But it is as true, that some of all three deserves it worse; If my Lines do no good, they do no hurt to the Souls, Bodies, or Estates of any.  
Secondly, I demand Money of no Man, yea, I refuse it when it is offered, not in jest, until they make it appear they offer it in earnest, which they do many ways; some throw Money on the ground, some on the Table; Some tell they'll have none of my Lines, except I take their Money; Some say I undervalue them, when I refuse their Money; Some say, they are abler to give me Money, than I am to want it; some bid Devil break their neck if I take not their Money: Some bid God damn them if I take not their Money: yea, I can instruct, that a Sea-Captain offered to strike off my head with a Shable, If I refused his Money: but the more moderate put Money unaworse in the Pocket of my Coat, which many think I keep unbuttoned of purpose. Mistake me not, Reader, I am not instructing how Money should be offered, but how it should not be offered, lest I take it.  
Thirdly, that I am not avaricious, appears by my vowing to take no Money from Ministers and Ladies, but they say I take Gold. But I answer, they eluded my vow by equivocation, putting Gold unaworse in the neck of my Doublet, and then run away, and I following to restore it, stumbled. They instance I stumbled of purpose that I might not reach them: But they are still mistaken, for a Lady having used me so, I followed her to her Chamber, and when I endeavoured to return her Gold to her pocket, her Maid (mistaking my meaning) thinking perhaps I was searching for the wrong Pocket, taxed me of incivility; So I was necessitate either to keep her Gold, or else be thought uncivil to a Lady: let any indifferent man judge which was the least of the two evils. However, Reader, tempt me not with Gold, except thou be in earnest. It dazzleth the eyes of the wise, and therefore no marvel it blind those of a fool.  
The third Objection against me is, that some affirm I am a bad Poet. But I answer, that nothing can more offend a Poet and a Fiddler, then telling them they want skill: If in effect they be unskilful, as I am; And therefore no marvel if I reply in a fury that it is most true that I am a bad Poet, and yet they are notorious liars in avering it, because they do so out of malice, not knowing whether they speak true or false. All the world knoweth they never made a greater progress in Poesy then the making of an Aie-house Roundelay, and that a bad one. It were base in me to upbraid them with want of skill in their own professions, in which they brag they have such insight; As to one of them, a Physician, that he took the piss of a Ston'd-horse for that of a Woman with Child: To another, a Mineralist, who laid a wager of ten Dollars, a piece of Brimstone was a piece of Silver; To a third, a Palmister, to whom, when a Boy in Girl's apparel was brought in to him to have his hand viewed, superciliously pronounced, the Girl would have three Husbands, bring forth nine Children, and die of the tenth. It were most base in me to tell them they are fit for nothing, except some will take them on to be Tasters of Drink: Neither are they fit for that but in the Morning, for in the Afternoon many times they are in the Category of Plants that is without sense and reason, having the use of no soul but the Vegitative. I could instance other things of that nature, But I forbear, lest the persons be discovered.  
Secondly, to be a bad Poet may well be a shame, it is no sin; Neither is it a shame for me in this first essay, withal my intention is to make men laugh, and not to vex them: But bad Lines many times causeth more mirth then good ones. Where one laughs at the Poems of Virgil, Homer, Ariosto, Du Bartas, etc. twenty will laugh at those of John Cockburn, or Mr. Zacharie Boyd. What Hypocondriaque would not presently be cured at the reading of those Lines.  
There was a man called Job  
Dwelled in the Land of Uz,  
He had a good gift of the Gob,  
The same case happen us.  
Or of those,  
Absolom hanged on a Tree,  
Crying God's mercy:  
Then Joab came in, angry was he,  
And put a Spear in his Arsie.  
Or of those of John Cockburn.  
Samuel was sent to France,  
To learn to sing and dance,  
And play upon a Fiddle:  
Now he's a man of great esteem,  
His Mother got him in a dream,  
At Culross on a Girdle.  
For my part, if I were a great man, I would sooner give Gold for such Lines, than Copper for all the Heroic Oracles, of Seneca's Tragedies.  
If any have more to object, let them impart it to me: And if I cannot excuse myself in reason, I am willing to satisfy the Law, I think it very strange that some grave and reverend men, should so wrongtheir Conscience to traduce me, since without hurting their Conscience they may speak so much evil of me and not lie, as I may likewise do of them.  
In the end I give the Argument of a Second Part, which will prove as harmless as a Whitred without teeth, except some shall be pleased to call Ears Horns.  
One word more, Reader, and I shall trouble thee no further; when thou hast perused my Lines, and found them a cheat, it cannot but vex thee that thou hast bestowed thy money to no purpose. But I entreat thee to consider that the only remedy is to conceal the cheat, by commending still my Lines to others, that thou may laugh when they shall be cheated as well as they self: In doing of which thou shall be a more Christian Liar then those who undervalue my Lines, albeit they understand them no more than they do the Prophet Ezechiel, as appears by their Commentaries on that Prophet, ready for the Press, if they were once dead.  
Farewell.  
S▪ C.   

MOCK POEM, Or, whigs SUPPLICATION.  
PART I.  
Argument.  

ASter invocking of the Muse,  
As many learned Poets use:  
Next is described the time of year  
When whigs in Armour did appear,  
The Goodman's Person, and his Weed,  
His Armour, Lady, Squire, and Steed,  
Dog, and Pigeon, and his mind  
All Allegories, where ye find  
Clothed with many a senseless word,  
Mysterious things, not with a turd:  
As said one in a reverend Coat,  
Or else he understood them not.  
As lately, when he Scripture-vext,  
He forced was to say off his Text:  
And then ye have a supplication  
Greatly misconstrued of the Nation.  
At first they dispute how to mend it;  
And then advise by whom to send it:  
Where Knight and Squire each other thump,  
As did De Ruyter and Van Trump.   

Who ever thou art, Muse, who dost make  
By force of Brandy, Ale, and Sack,  
Some who both words and matter want,  
Admired of the ignorant:  
In whom sagacious noses snuff;  
Nought worth but Plagiary stuff,  
By which they purchase praise and money,  
When Bees have toiled, Drons eat the Honey.  
Inspire me with Poetic furie,  
That I may likewise favour Currie:  
With all men to augment my Pack,  
By making Lines not worth a Plack:  
Some of eight Syllabs, some of ten,  
Some borrowed from other men:  
As Cleveland, Don, or Tass Divine,  
Some ill translated from Marine;  
Some Oedipus cannot not unridle,  
Some sounding like a blind man's Fiddle,  
Observing neither tune nor time,  
Some nonsense to make up the Rhyme.  
Though I speak true, or false, no matter,  
If I traduce, some others flatter,  
So sundry men were used of late,  
As they were on or off the State.  
Grant that I may curb all Backbiters,  
Of Surplice, High-sleeved Gowns, and Mitres,  
And Church-governing Paradoxes,  
Of Calvin's followers, and Knox's.  
In mystic allegoric tone,  
Scarce understood by any one.  
Grant me to scold, revile and prat,  
Shame fall me, if myself knows what:  
When Rhyme bursts out from breast enraged,  
Like turds from puddings overcharged;  
Some galling, other some to laughter,  
Moving like Parrot when it's taught her.  
Hoping my prayer thou wilt hear,  
O Muse! have at the time of year;  
When whigs from lurking-holes did sally,  
And in the open fields did rally.   

It was about the time when Oysters  
Abound so with venereous moistures,  
That they are used Even and Morn  
By those that do their Neighbour horn;  
Which doth their prices so enhance  
At England's Court, and that of France,  
That Oyster-Wives have money ready  
To make their Daughter sometime Lady:  
As doth appear by one of late  
Whose Son-in-Law bore sway in State.  
When snow makes dikes and mountains white,  
When folks by Physic seldom shit,  
Except there be some Pocky reason;  
When Mutton weareth out of season,  
In stead of which, at every meal,  
When men eat roasted Hens and Veal.  
And those at Forth eat Garvie Fishes,  
Then fittest to be served in dishes;  
Which to the palate pleasing proves,  
Like Adriatic Gulf Anchovies.  
When that the Black bird hoarsly whistles,  
When Trout and Abercorn Mussles  
Are stark nought; when that the Swallow  
Lies sleeping in her own tallow,  
Within some sub-terranean hole;  
When under the Antarctique Pole  
There is no night, under out other,  
A man cannot discern his Brother,  
It is so dark; when Summer's heats  
Scroatcheth the Magellanique straits,  
And burneth up the Corn and Hay  
About the Caput bonae Spei:  
If that be tedious to remember,  
It was in Januar, or December,  
When I did see the outlaw whigs  
Lie scattered up and down the Riggs:  
Some had Hoggers, some Straw Boots,  
Some uncovered Legs and Coats:  
Some had Halberds, some had Durks,  
Some had crooked Swords like Turks:  
Some had Stings, some had Flails  
Knit with Eel and Oxen tails:  
Some had Spears, some had Pikes,  
Some had Spades which delved Dikes:  
Some had Guns with rousty Ratches,  
Some had fiery Peats for Mitches.  
Some had Bows, but wanted Arrows,  
Some had Pistols without marrows;  
Some had the Coulter of a Plough:  
Some Syths had, men and horse to hough:  
And some with a Lochaber Axe,  
Resolved to give dalzel his paiks.  
Some had Crossbows, some were Slingers,  
Some had only Knives and Whingers.  
But most of all, believe who lists,  
Had nought to fight with, but their Fists:  
They had no Colours to display,  
They wanted Order and Array:  
Their Officers and Motion-teachers  
Were very few, beside their Preachers.  
Without Horse. or Artilzery-pieces,  
They thought to imitate the Swises;  
When from Navarre they sallied out.  
Tremovile and brave Trivulce to rout.  
For Martial Music, every day  
They used oft to sing and pray;  
Which hearts them more when danger comes,  
Than others Trumpets and their Drums.  
With such provision as they had,  
They were so stout, or else so mad,  
As to petition once again,  
And if the issue proved vain,  
They were resolved with one accord  
To fight the battles of the Lord.   

Upon their head marched the Goodman,  
Like Scanderbag, or Tamerlane.  
Dame Nature strained her outmost care,  
To mould him for a man of War:  
A terrible and a dreadful foe,  
As doth appear from top to toe.  
The shape and fashion of his head,  
Was like a Con, or Pyramid:  
Or for to speak in terms more groff,  
was just like Suggar Loaf:  
Or like the head of Rob the Cripple,  
Or like the spear of Magdalen Steeple:  
Or like the bottom of a Tap,  
Or like a furred Muscovia Cap.  
They who the Southeast Country's haunts,  
Affirm such heads have Turkish Saints:  
Which as some learned Writers notes,  
Are here with us called Idiots.  
Because long hair the wit dot dull,  
Nought was between Heaven and his Skull:  
His Ears was long, and stood upright,  
Which did so well become the Knight:  
That at some distance he seemed horned,  
His one eye was with pearl adorned;  
His other eye looked so asquint,  
That it was hard to ward his dint:  
From thence down to his mouth arose  
A mountain rather than a nose;  
Upon which Savage beasts did feed,  
As Worms, and Selkhorns, which with speed  
Would eat it up, but he begins  
In time to pick them out with Pins.  
His lips were thick, his mouth was wide,  
His teeth each other did bestride:  
His tongue was big, though well he meant,  
He was not very eloquent.  
His beard was long, and red, and thin,  
Making a Ball-green on his Chin:  
As trees do sometime in a Wood,  
Where Horse and Oxen gather food:  
His Arms were stiff like Barrow-trams,  
His Hands were hued like reisted Hams:  
At Finger-ends he never fails  
To have the King of Babel's Nails,  
Which sooner than a Knife, by half,  
Will cut the throat of Sheep or Calf.  
When he, not loving to be idle,  
Turns Cook to any Peny-Bridle.  
They scrape up Works about his Leaguer,  
A great deal stronger, and far bigger  
Than those made by Don Pedro Saa,  
When Spinola besieged Breda.  
He had a Lump upon his Back,  
Which some took for a Pedlar's Pack:  
But other some did it suppose.  
A Bag which kept his Meal for Brose.  
But neither conjecture was good,  
It was a lump of Flesh and Blood.  
His Womb stood out an cln before,  
As far behiud his Bum, and more:  
When overcharged, it made a sound,  
Which did like Earthquake shake the ground.  
With which, as Sentrie, when he sleeps,  
His clothes from Mice and Rats he keeps;  
Which to his Pockets swarm like Bees,  
Finding the smell of Bread and Cheese,  
Which several times the fainting Knight  
Doth take for Cordials in the night.  
But when the Beasts do hear the Thunder,  
They're so amazed with fear and wonder,  
That to the Gate go Mice and Rats,  
As fast, as if pursued by Cats.  
Was never man in those Dominions.  
About whose Legs were more opinions.  
First, there are many who avow.  
They are like an inverted V.  
And other some do stiffly jangle,  
That they and Thighs make a Quadrangle.  
Some think, that Thighs joining, they gape,  
In Circular, or Oval shape:  
And other some are, who avouch  
Then Semicircles in a touch.  
And other some, there are who tells,  
They're Semicircles parallels.  
But those who on them better looked,  
Say one was strait, the other crooked:  
Not as in touching they did make,  
That famous Angle of Contact.  
Which Euclids demonstration shows,  
If in their Juncture ye put straws.  
The truth is, they in every thing,  
Resemble do a Bow and String;  
The one strait to the other bending,  
Is like a Chord an Arch subtending:  
In which Schem, if ye draw some Lines,  
Ye may have Secants, Tangents, Sins,  
Which Ale-pot measuring much enables,  
By help of Logarithmique Tables;  
Which questions soon do decide,  
For by Substraction they Divide,  
And Multiplieth by Addition,  
As now doth Popish superstition,  
Which multiplieth every day,  
Having some added to its way.  
Their entry to that Church is fine,  
They Re-baptize them all with Wine,  
Which their Apostles think far better  
To wash away men's sins, than water.  
Now all's described to feet and toes,  
Which I could not see for his shoes:  
Some say, his toes, who saw his feet,  
Resembled an Alphabet,  
Greek, Syriack, or Arabic,  
Or Breviations Stenographick;  
Which they do counterfeit like Apes,  
With great variety of shapes.   

You may believe it as your Creed:  
Such was his Armour and his weed;  
He wore a pair of Pullion Breeches,  
A Yellow Doublet with blue Steeches,  
A long black Cassock over his Ars,  
As he had been the fool of Mars:  
He had on each Leg a Gramash,  
A Top of Lint for his Panash,  
Which bravely flourished in his Crest,  
A folded Cloak for Back and Breast.  
A Glove of Plate, which once was worn  
By Black Dowglas at Bannockburn.  
For Head-piece, a Cowl lined with Iron,  
Which did his Temples so environ,  
That it would cost a world of pains  
For any to beat out his Brains.  
A Blunderbush hanged at his back,  
Of terrible report and crack;  
As have a lower Tire of Guns,  
Shot from a Ship of many Tuns.  
A Horse he never doth bestride,  
Without a Pistol at each side:  
And without other two before,  
One at either Saddle Tore.  
But now when he hath much ado,  
He hath one in each Pocket too.  
A Sword which woundeth deep and wide,  
A Target of a sevenfold Hide:  
A very strange enchanted Lance,  
Whose touch makes men from Saddle dance  
As sometimes of old did another,  
Belonging to Angeliques Brother,  
And after to the English Duke,  
As mentions Ariosto's Book.  
And thus with more Arms he doth ride,  
Then other twenty had beside.  
Whether he gain the day, or tine,  
He never misseth to kill nine:  
As doth appear to all who reckons,  
Justly the number of his Weapons.  
Among ten thousand, all alone,  
With every Weapon he kills one.  
Some say, he used to take lives  
With Whingers, and Kilmarnock Knives:  
But he thinks that belongs to Boutchers,  
And others, like Damaeta's Coutchers.  
For when with any he doth swagger,  
He seldom useth Knife, or Dagger:  
Except they come in wrestling terms,  
Permitted by the Law of Arms.  
The Laws of Knighthood he doth keep,  
Not killing Men like Calves or Sheep.   

I asked at several who he was,  
Some said he was Sir Hudibras,  
Deceived by his boulky Paunch:  
Some said Don Quixot de la Maunch,  
Which was more like than was the other,  
In many things he was his Brother.   

First, in his head were many fancies,  
Bred by the reading of Romances.  
He thought before the day of Doom  
The Covenanters would burn Rome,  
And trample down the Man of Sin,  
He thought the work he would begin,  
And to the glory of his Nation,  
Accomplish all the Revelation.  
Prat what they please in Popish Schools,  
Hammond and Grotius were but fools,  
Who say, it is fulfilled already,  
Must think they prayed to our Lady.  
They aimed at Reconciliation,  
Between the Pope and every Nation.  
All other things they could pack up,  
If ye take not from them the Cup:  
And they had reason, for in truth,  
Some think they had a burning drought.   

Next, like Don Quixot, some suppose,  
He had a Lady Del to Bose,  
Who never budged from his side,  
Upon a pair of Sodds astride:  
By whose sole industry and care,  
He managed all the holy War.  
We read in greatest Warriors lives,  
They oft were ruled by their Wives,  
The World's Conqueror, Alexander,  
Obeyed a Lady his Commander,  
And Anthony that Drunkard keen  
Was ruled by his lascivious Queen.  
King Arthur for his Wife's sake,  
Winked at Lance lot Du Lake,  
Though to his opprobry and scorn,  
He cherished one himself to horn.  
They say, that now are many others  
Who in that case are Arthur's brothers.  
So the imperious Roxalan,  
Made the great Turk John Thomsons man.  
Another Warrior, all his life  
Was also ruled by his Wife:  
Albeit before their death arose  
Some strife between them for her Pose.   

Thirdly, like Quixot, he a Squire,  
Had Zancho called to whet his ire,  
When in a fury he did wrestle  
With Giant, or Enchanted Castle.  
Or like Don Quixot with Windmills,  
Or with Dalzel at Pentland-Hills.  
Or when, like Perseus, he was ready  
To fight a Monster for a Lady:  
Being victorious in the strife,  
He still refused the Nymph to Wife;  
And that with such a modest grace  
As Fame's Knight did the Heir of Thrace:  
To which Squire, the bounteous Knight  
Promised either Man, or Wight,  
Gernsey, or Jersey, or some Isle,  
With a Lord Governors' Style.  
When he should beat his foes asunder,  
And bring the Whore of Babel under.   

Lastly, on Quixot's Rozinant  
He road, who took the Covenant.  
As many think, none of the Nation  
Could make him take the Declaration.  
Some endeavoured to have the Horse  
Proclaimed Rebel from the Cross,  
Which though they did with open throats,  
The Horse eats still his Hay and Oats:  
Not dreaming that in any thing  
He Country did offend, or King.  
The wisest Lawyers of the Nation,  
Advised him to make Appellation;  
Because it was against all reason  
To condemn a Beast for treason;  
Which reason, at a tippling Can,  
Had saved his Master the Goodman:  
If after his rebellious Journey,  
He had met with a King's Attorney,  
Who could by Law and Reason show,  
He greater beast was of the two.  
Or with another, who for riches  
Stood for incestuous Whoors and Witches  
Or any other, whom ye list  
So they did well anoint his Fist.   

Beside his Horse, he had a Dog,  
So used to traverse Hill and Bog,  
That he became of scent so cliver,  
As to miss neither Hare nor Pliver.  
He turns himself in Horse or Hog,  
As Monseur did Agrippa's Dog;  
To find by his sagacious nose,  
The counterploting of his foes.  
He treads the Back-scent, brings a Glove,  
And carries Letters to his Love:  
He is a fierce Dog, yet most civil,  
Kills Fish, whose Livers frights the Devil.  
He barks at Anabaptist, Quaker,  
Papist, and Declaration-taker:  
But he will gently fawn, and stand  
To lick a Covenanters hand.   

Beside his Dog, he hath a Pigeon,  
Most do not know of what Religion:  
She was the same, as many fear,  
Which once eat Pease in Mahomet's ear;  
Which, when she did, the Carl did boast,  
That he spoke with the Holy Ghost.  
His Epilepsy for to recover,  
If once employed, she doth not hover;  
But will make the whole worlds tour,  
And come again within an hour:  
Sometimes she his Orders carries  
To the Azores, and Canaries:  
As Quarter-mistriss, to ordain,  
In which the first Meridian  
Should lodged be, for Calculation  
Of Longitudes in Navigation.  
Sometimes he sends her in Embassage  
Out through the North-East Indian passage  
To tell the great Tartarian Cham,  
A piece of a West-Phabia Hamm  
Is better meat, when hunger nips,  
Then Collops off live-Horses Hips:  
That we who here drink Sack and Brandy,  
Well tempered with Suggar-Candy,  
A great deal better than he fares,  
Who drinks Horse Blood, or Milk of Mares  
Sometime to Peru, and to Chilly  
She goes, to tell our Prophet Lily  
Forefeeth neither good nor evil,  
Abandoned by his Arctique Devil;  
Whom the late great Frost did compel  
To run and warm himself in Hell.  
That she might bring from thence a Spirit  
Of greater foresight, and of merit,  
For to assist the great Diviner  
The better for to win his Dinner.  
Sometime to Turk she goes, and Sophy,  
To tell their Water and their Cophy,  
And their severe slighting of Wine,  
Makes them so with the Colic pine;  
Which torment is with them so rife,  
It cost Mahomet the Great his life;  
For when the Colic he did take,  
And did refuse a Cup of Sack,  
He worried on a windy Bubble,  
And fred the World of meikle trouble.  
If they'I drink Wine, they need not fear  
Their Prophet, for his thousand year  
Are now expired, all in vain  
They expect his return again.   

Thus of his Person, Armour, Weed,  
His Lady, Squire, and of his Steed,  
Dog, and Pigeon; for his mind,  
He leaves all mortals far behind.  
All things created he doth know,  
In Heaven above, and Earth below:  
He solves the Questions every one  
That Sheba's Queen asked Solomon:  
Or any other knotty doubt,  
That can occur the world throughout.  
Neither doth he prat and babble,  
Like Pliny Painting out a Fable.  
At first, he makes a clear Narration,  
And then backs all by Demonstration.  
He knows whether the great Megall  
Doth drink out of his Father's Skull,  
Or if he make a Chamber-pot  
Of that of King of Calcecut.  
If it be proved by any man  
That he is come of Tamerlan;  
Or if he keep Tobacco cut  
In Tortoise Shell, or Coco Nut.  
If the Balm and Franckincense-keepers,  
By rattling, drive away the Vipers,  
Which with such ardour haunts those Trees,  
As with us Garden-Flowres do Bees:  
Or if they do those Serpents choke,  
As Easterlings their Bees do smoke:  
Which made two great wits, as men think,  
Spend too much Paper, Pen, and Ink.  
If Ichneumon and Crocodile  
Do fight in Niger, as in Nile;  
Or if we ought to believe them,  
Who say, Melchisedec was not Sem;  
Which raised once a Fisty strife  
Between a Preacher and his Wife.  
If any man yet ever born  
Did see Phoenix or Unicorn?  
If there be a Philosopher Stone?  
If Men who have no Leg but one,  
With broad Soles, which by Toures.  
Defends their Heads from Sun and Showers?  
If the Emperor Prester John  
Be the Offspring of Solomon?  
If those who lately conquered China,  
Be the Brothers-Sons of Dina?  
Who to those North-East parts were turned,  
When Assurs King Samaria burned.  
If Rome's Founders Wolf's did suck?  
If Job in Edom was a Duke?  
If Captain Hind was a good fellow?  
If Wallace Beard was black or yellow?  
Which raised once a great discord  
Between a Western Laird and Lord.  
If roasted Eggs be best, or sodden?  
If James the Fourth was killed at Floden?  
Which made two Schoolmen borrow Swords,  
That they might fight after big words.  
If Sword, or Surfeit more men kill?  
Who had the better at Edge-hill?  
Which made two Ladies other jeer,  
A Round-head and a Cavalier:  
Both harped so on the seen ruffle,  
That it turned to a scratch-eye scuffle:  
At last both conclude to agree,  
Both of them vowing secrecy.  
Where meets the Brethren of Cross Rosy?  
What sums the Spaniard in Potosie  
Gains yearly by their Silver-Mines:  
Since thirty eight who wins or tines.  
He knows the price of Jewels and Rings,  
And hidden causes of sundry things.  
As of the Compass variation,  
Of Nile and Nigers inundation.  
Why Ireland wanteth Toad and Snake,  
Why some men white, and some Moors black.  
Why Regulus eye makes men leave breath.  
Why Spiders by't, them dance to death  
Why men Tarantula do not fear,  
But at some seasons of the year.  
Why Devils music do not please:  
What sort of thing is Ambergrease,  
If Iron Magnes, or it Iron  
Attract? If Sea or Land environ  
That frozen great Magnetic Rock,  
Under the Pole, where what a Clock  
There cannot be made any trial,  
The one year's half, by Phoebus' Dial?  
By the Seas motion he doth find  
A North-East passage to the Ind:  
Another he finds by the North-west,  
Where Davies freezed to his rest:  
When Icy Mountains did occur,  
And stopped his course to Mar del Zurr:  
But he hath found a brave device,  
That he may free those Seas from Ice;  
He empties all the Water, sign  
He fills the place with Brandywine,  
Which hardly will congeal with Frost,  
If Whales turn drunk, and Fishing lost;  
Yet lose we not by that device,  
For Whale Oil we get Indian Spice.  
All other ways are but a cheat,  
To fetch some Money from the State.  
It's wonder they have sharkt so much.  
Both from the English and the Dutch.   

He proved, on peril of his Soul,  
Presbyterian-rule by Paul.  
He thought, none but a foolish man  
Made Antichrist the son of Dan.  
He thought by the Apostles meaning,  
Voice Negative, and sole ordaining,  
Was the very mystery  
Of Antichrist's iniquity,  
Which near his own time did begin  
To usher in the Man of Sin.  
He thought, if Bishops had not been,  
A Pope of Rome had ne'er been seen.  
But now he thinketh Church Government  
A thing of small, or no concernment:  
As ready as any ever born  
For Bishops, if he had not sworn.  
If Dutch and English truth report,  
He knows about th' Amboyna Fort,  
If those two Indian Ships were sunk,  
And burnt by Dutch, when they were drunk.  
Who first began the War in Guinie,  
Where Holms and Ruyter played at Pinie.  
If groundless jealousies and fears  
Yokes Dutch and English by the cars:  
Or if it be the Indian Trade  
Tha doth produce effects so sad.  
He'll tell in Indian Pedlars faces,  
We dearly buy their Cloves and Maces.  
The War draws blood and money forth;  
More than the Indian Trade is worth.  
He thinks the War formented be  
By Romish craft and policy,  
Which rends the Dutch and us asunder,  
To bring reformed Religion under.  
When both are broken, and brought low,  
Like Pitchers by a mutual blow;  
Then they'll force up the Pope again,  
And make both serve the King of Spain:  
Who in the Jesuits fantasy  
The world's Temporal Lord will be;  
And meager those who countermine them.  
The Pope and he will rule between them:  
The world in two Monarchies,  
He with his Sword, he with his Keys.  
If Dutch and English Popish were,  
They would be Popish every where:  
So Conclave Fathers do conclude,  
But such conceits do oft delude.   

He finds by perfect Demonstrations  
The roots of all composed Aequations.  
He finds new ways to poison Cats,  
Of Mudd he Serpents makes, and Rats.  
He finds the Longitude of Places,  
Makes Bagpipes with Concording Bases.  
He finds two means proportionals,  
Which great wits sometime inthrals.  
In Virtuosies Conventicles,  
Excentrics, Orbs, and Epycicles  
He finds to be fantastic fictions,  
Forged, to palliate contradictions;  
Wherewith the late Stargazers notions  
Have involved the Planets motions.  
To determine he dare venture,  
The Sun to be the World's Centre,  
To hold the Candle in the middle  
Infixed, while to Pythagora's Fiddle  
Still Firmament, with twinkling eyes,  
The Earth and Planets dancing sees.  
He Squares, Circles, Doubles, Cubes,  
Makes most admirable Tubes;  
If he at Dover through them glance,  
He sees what hours it is in France;  
As he hath proved by frequent trial,  
On Steeple, Clock, and Sunny Dial:  
He reads with them another while  
Letters, distant twenty Mile;  
Dutch, or Scots, I know not whether,  
The one is as like as the other.   

If he once levelly at the Moon,  
Either at Midnight, or at Noon,  
He discovers Rivers, Hills,  
Steeples, Castles, and Windmills,  
Villages, and Fenced Towns,  
With Foussies, Bulwarks, and great Guns,  
Cavaliers on Horseback prancing.  
Maids about a Maypole dancing,  
Men in Taverns Wine carousing,  
Beggars by the Highway Lousing,  
Sojors forging Alehouse brawlings,  
To be let go without their Lawing,  
Sturrs in streets by Grooms and Pages,  
Mountebanks playing on Stages.  
Wild Boars strutting out their Bristles,  
Black birds striving who best Whistles,  
Throats of Larks Trumpeting day,  
Falcons beating down their prey,  
Hare and Deer crossing Bogs,  
Followed at the heels by Dogs,  
Ass' braying, Lions roaring,  
Owls screiching, Eagles soaring,  
Foxes roused from their den,  
Monkeys imitating men.  
Gardens planting, Houses bigging,  
States and Princes Fleets out-rigging;  
Antic fashions of Apparels,  
States and Princes pitching quarrels:  
Wars, Rebels, Horse Races  
Proclaimed at several Mercat-places.  
Capers bringing in their Prizes,  
Commons cursing new Excizes.  
Young Wives old Husbands horning,  
Judges drunk every morning;  
Augmenting Lawsuits, and divisions,  
By Spanish and by French decisions;  
Courtiers their aims mising,  
Chaiplains Widow— Ladies kissing;  
Men to sell their Lands itching,  
To pay th'expenses of their Kitchen.  
Frequent changes, States invading,  
Pulpits forcing, and persuading;  
Great jars for Cloves and maces,  
For Bishops, Lordships and their Graces:  
Lords in Stews, missing Purses,  
While Pages make their Lady's Nurses:  
Preachers contradicting fast  
This year, what they Preached the last;  
Making in their Conscience room  
For a change the year to come;  
Some seeking Bishoprics in vain,  
Wishing Presbytry again;  
Lawyers counsels at such rates,  
That they cost men their whole estates:  
What money men puts in their Hands.  
To get half back, they give their Lands:  
Physicians cheating young and old,  
Making both buy death with Gold:  
Not versed in Aesculapius' ways,  
Indicative and Critic days  
They make too late, or else too soon,  
Not knowing the motion of the Moon:  
Factions in Families and towns,  
Ground manured by Country Clowns,  
In Meadows, Corns, Grapes, Apples,  
Outbraving Lombardie and Naples;  
Priests diseased of the Riples,  
Hirpling through the Streets like Cripples,  
Physicians spoiled with the Pox,  
Hiding their Noses with their Cloaks,  
Courtiers covering cankered Faisters  
With curled Periwigs and Plasters,  
With Wax Noses, Golden Lips,  
With Paisboard mending Legs and Hips,  
Using all the Art they can,  
That they may seem a pretty man,  
And free of blemish, like a Priest  
With Urim Thummim on his Breast:  
Ladies speaking ranting words,  
Attired like Men with Vests and Swords,  
With Periwigs and long Locks,  
Some taxed for dancing in their Smocks:  
Making frivolous excuses,  
Men pretending to the Muses;  
Some selling Drink, some selling Draff,  
Some Buffoons turned, to make men laugh;  
Some Publicans, some busy meddlers,  
Some turned Horse-coopers', some Pedlars;  
Some challenged for dreadful things,  
As stealing Silver Spoons, and Rings;  
Having used many wiles before,  
That they might put them to the door.  
Sundry Philosophic Asses  
By Dictating, Teaching Classes,  
Not taking an account again,  
Making Boys spend their time in vain.  
Some dissipating little Muggs  
Containing universal Drugs;  
Physicians crying out amain,  
Where they cure one, they poison ten.  
Some getting Oyster-Boats to Dreg,  
Some making Satyrs for to Beg,  
Being reduced to those wants,  
By several avaricious Saints,  
Who proved on them Drinking, Whoring.  
By slandering, forging, and perjuring;  
At last, for all their fair pretention;  
Their quarrel proved to be a Pension,  
Which having got, then for refuge,  
They bribe, or cheat a silly Judge,  
By purloining, and forbearing,  
To stop the cause from further hearing.  
There was no remedy for the evil;  
All went headlong to the Devil:  
That Father's saying is most true,  
Penitent Clerks are very few:  
Ere any shame shall them betid,  
They'll one sin with another hide.   

His Tube in higher Planets Heaven,  
Discovers many moe than seven.  
Jove hath his guard, with thunder thumps,  
To beat down Covenants and Rumps:  
And Saturu hath his Pages too,  
When he meets Jove, there is ado.  
It's good to some, and bad to other,  
It's never good to all together:  
For some go up, and some go down,  
Some gets, and some will lose a Crown.  
They say, such things will now appear  
In less than three and thirty Year.  
Great change of Government will be,  
As all affirm beyond the Sea:  
But all their practices, and wiles  
At this bout, will not reach our Iles.  
All is confined to the main,  
And then it will about again.  
We need not break our hearts for sorrow,  
what's ours to day, is theirs to morrow.  
He sees Mars sending Grooms in ire  
To set the World below on fire;  
Raising such fury in men's Breasts,  
That Generals are made of Priests,  
Which them becomes, as all avow,  
As well as Saddle doth a Sow.  
He sees those Grooms, who Sun attends,  
Blowing on their burnt finger-ends:  
Among whom Mercury doth stand,  
Serving the Sun with Capp in hand.  
He hath no dwelling of his own,  
But is Domestic of the Sun.  
Phoebus and he hath great compassion  
On Arts now wearing out of fashion:  
Yet some will flourish, they foresaw  
Romances, and the Cannon Law.  
He sees, with Venus' Pages are,  
Who Pimps were to the God of War:  
When jealous Vulcan, sick of love,  
Would needs himself a Cuckold prove,  
Like several great ones here below,  
Though some conceal what they do know.   

His Tube once leveled at the Sky,  
Sundry, yet hid lights doth espy;  
Some lesser ones, and some more gross,  
Between the Boars and Southern Cross;  
Some on Pegasus his Hoove,  
And Some upon his Master's Love,  
And some upon her Mother's Chair,  
And some on Berenice's Hair;  
And some upon the Serpent's Sting,  
Aod some upon the Eagles Wing;  
And some upon the Ram's Horn,  
Some on the Beard of Capricorn,  
And some he sees upon the Bull,  
And some upon Orion's Skull,  
And some on Nessus' mortal foe,  
And some on Cancer's meikle toe:  
Some on the Sails of Argo Ship,  
And some on Antinous Hippolito;  
And some he sees upon the Twins,  
And some upon the Fish's Fins;  
And some he sees on Libra's Scale,  
And some upon the Dragon's Tail;  
Which little Bear and Pole entangles,  
And some he sees on the Triangles:  
Some on the Harp, some on the Swan,  
Some on the Crown, some on the Cranmer,  
Some on the Whale, some on the Trout,  
And some upon the great Dogs Snout;  
And some upon the Virgin's Knees,  
On Crinita, between her Thighs,  
Which makes her blush, and turn her look  
North-East, upon Bootes Dock:  
Which the base Clown regardeth not,  
But spurns her backward with his Foot,  
And almost lames her on the Knee,  
Which barbarous incivility  
Is evident to any man,  
By the Glob of Vatican.   

And finally, that tract of Light  
Which we see in a Frosty Night,  
And caused Philosophic jars,  
He finds to be the light of Stars;  
Which just so shining, he doth mark,  
As Haddock's Heads do in the dark.   

Solve several Questions he can,  
Scarce solvable by any man:  
If number of Stars be odd or even:  
What's beyond the outmost Heaven.  
If substance of the heavens be mixed,  
If Stars do move, in Orbs infixed:  
Or, if they move, as others clatter,  
As Fowl in Air, or Fish in Water.  
Since Jewish Sabbath is begun,  
And ends with setting of the Sun.  
How that Sabbath observed can be  
Beyond the sixty eight degree  
Of Latitude: since Antipods  
In Sun shining, have such odds.  
How both Sabbaths observation  
Jumps with the Sabbath of Creation:  
The one and other Question  
Sorely puzzled Solomon,  
In that great Dispute, that between  
Was him and that Arabian Queen;  
Or Aethiopian, as some other,  
Who make her Prester Johu's Mother.   

Against the late Stargazers Schism,  
And Argolus Paralogism;  
He finds Comets are placed no where  
But in some Region of the Air.  
He finds with admirable speed  
Their Paralaxis by a Thread:  
He finds their eyes perceive not well,  
Or else Dioptriques make them reel,  
And that their Brain's not worth a Turd,  
Who calls them Via Lactea's Curd;  
The same he thinks of many others,  
Who say, they are new Stars half Brothers:  
Of which last, if he espy one,  
He bids let God's secrets alone.   

He finds both Comets and Eclipses,  
But petty Fortune-telling Gipsies:  
The like uncertainty he sees  
In change of Excentricities.  
But he foresees with Prophet's Unction  
The effects of a great Conjunction;  
Before the Age begin again,  
Spain shall have France, or France have Spain  
The Monarchy shall spread no further,  
If Dutch and English hold together.  
And though they do great tribulation,  
Follows a Gothish inundation,  
Spreading from Pomer into Scluse,  
In defence of the Flower de Luce:  
Their Mutiny for want of Pay  
Proves to the French a dismal day.  
Then English shall say, God be thanked,  
The French are like Fleas in a Blanket,  
They soon skip out, as they did in,  
Their Conquest ends ere it begin.  
They mar all by unstable carriage,  
As in their old Italian Voyage;  
When quite forsaken of their helps,  
They first brought Shankers o'er the Alps.   

He doth foresee another wonder,  
Nations in place, and hearts asunder,  
Shall straight he conjoined in one,  
Against the Whore of Babylon.  
And though those Nations be but poor,  
Rich Kings who fornicat the Whore,  
Shall melt before them, as the Snow,  
When Rain and Southwind makes a Thaw.  
What men they are, he will not clatter,  
Lest some think he intends to slatter.  
Then all shall be serene and clear,  
And Saints shall Reign a thousand year,  
If not, let it not be forgotten,  
To hang him when he's dead and rotten.   

All doubt much of the Jews Conversion  
The manner of the World's Eversion.  
If Fire shall burn the heavens to Embers,  
If separate Souls their Friends remembers:  
If those new reasons do make good  
The Circulation of the Blood:  
If Webs of Cloth be made of Stones,  
If Pox can be chased from the Bones;  
If Minerals nourish as Grain,  
If Rats once dead can live again:  
And of such like Resurrections,  
If by Attractions, and Ejections,  
Men may lend, or borrow blood;  
If universal Drugs be good;  
If Satyr-makers ever thrive,  
If any thing which they contrive;  
If there be such of any Nation.  
Who are not driven to desperation,  
Giving to all, who them defends,  
Still sorest on the finger-ends.  
Though never wiser-man was born,  
He knows not how to dine the morn:  
No more than he sees when shall come  
The moment of the day of Doom.   

The Whigs him circled in a Ring.  
And he stood like a Nine-pin King;  
After a Pause and a Cough,  
And sundry clawing of his Hough:  
Upon his Tiptocs' he arose,  
And with his Fingers wiped his Nose,  
And cleansed his Fingers on his Breeches,  
Delivering those following speeches.   

Hear, O ye remnant of Isra'l,  
Who have not bowed your knees to Baal,  
For which ye undergo the Cross;  
Ye Gold refined from the Dross;  
Ye winnowed Corn purged from the Chaff,  
Ye spirit of Malt drawn from the Draff;  
Who to the good Cause are no shame,  
Ye Covenanters, Cruds and Cream;  
Ere one a Pater Noster utter,  
Some will turn Cheese, and others Butter,  
And each will feed his hungry Brother,  
If we shall chance to eat each other.  
Ye who still pray for these who wrong you,  
God grant there be no Rogues among you,  
As Arch as any of the Nation:  
I have caused Pen a Supplication,  
Which must be sent unto the King,  
From whom some must an answer bring:  
I'll read it out, that ye may mend it,  
And then advise by whom to send it.  
Then answered the whole Crowd,  
Bidding him read it out aloud.  
Seeking his Lunets forth, he farted,  
At which, they who stood nearest started;  
Those further off took such Alarms,  
Some cried to Legs, some cried to Arms:  
What was the matter, none could think,  
Till all of them did smell the stink.  
Then having hushed their shouts and hollows,  
He did begin to read as follows.   

THE SUPPLICATION.  

SIR, though there be but few among us,  
Who bids at every word God damn us;  
Though we come not to martial closes,  
Half gelded, and without our Noses:  
As not accustomed to those tricks,  
Which hurts men's Noses, and their Pricks:  
Although we do not rant and swagger,  
Nor drink in Taverns till we stagger,  
And then engage in drunken quarrels,  
Where wit goes out by tooming Barrels;  
Where some throw Stoops, and others Glasses,  
Some struggle with the serving Lasses;  
Some throw a Chandler, some a Can,  
Some strive to Cuckold the Goodman.  
Some mean their Elbow, some their Head,  
Some cry, alace, their Shoulderblade;  
And some with spilt drink are dripping,  
And some sit on a Privy sleeping:  
Some do not know at whom they're striking,  
And some are busy Pockets picking:  
Some have their hair with fingers freezed,  
And some cry out, they're Circumcised.  
Some have their Faces and their Throples  
All scratched with Tobacco Stoples:  
Some Coals with naked Swords are hewing,  
And some lie in a Corner Spewing;  
And other some get bloody Fingers,  
By grasping naked Knives and Whingers,  
When they the fray intent to red,  
When it were better they were a-bed:  
And some cry, ye disturb the Laird,  
And some cry, fie bring Bailie Baird,  
A man who is obliged much  
Unto the War against the Dutch.  
At that they call the Wench to reckon,  
She comes and counts up three for one,  
But gains not much, though she so trick it,  
Beside her loss of Burges Ticket:  
They tell her, they will money borrow,  
And come and pay their Shot to morrow:  
Their Officers, the other day,  
Had Dyced, & Drunk, and Whored their pay.   

Sir, though we do not play such pranks,  
For which we give unto God thanks;  
Yet we your loyal Subjects are,  
To serve you both in Peace and War,  
With our Fortunes, and our Lives;  
But if our Conscience, and our Wives  
By any man be meddled with,  
We'll both defend with all our pith.  
Sir, our conscience to compel,  
Is to force our Souls to Hell.  
If we do good, and think it evil,  
In that we more obey the Devil,  
Then doing ill, which we think good,  
If holy Writ be understood.   

Sir, we have been sore oppressed,  
Our Wives and Serving Lasses sess,  
Either to give beyond their reach,  
Or else hear some Hirelings Preach:  
Who Preach nought else, but rail and rant  
Against the Holy Covenant:  
And yet it's known, that the Nation  
Did take it, at their instigation;  
For which, of late, they were so hearty,  
When it was the prevailing party,  
That they urged State, as they were wood,  
To take some's Means, and others blood:  
And others they compelled to flee,  
And hide themselves beyond the Sea:  
And that, Sir, for no other reason,  
But Ante-Covenanting Treason.   

But now, Sir, when the guise doth turn,  
They Preach nothing, but hang, and burn,  
And harry all those of the Nation,  
Who do refuse the Declaration:  
Persuading us with tales and fictions  
To take Oaths which are contradictions;  
Having, for love of Worldly Pelf  
First taken contrair Oaths themselves.   

At the first, Sir, God be thanked,  
We sold Covering, Sheet, and Blanket,  
And Gowns, and Plaids, and Petticoats,  
Meal and Pease, Barley and Oats,  
Butter and Cheese, and Wool Fleeces,  
For Groats and Forty Penny pieces;  
Capons and Hens, and Geese and Pigs,  
Oxen and Horse which Tilled our Riggs;  
And which our very hearts pierces,  
Mastor Zachary Boyd's Verses,  
Dickson's Sermons, Guthrie's Libels,  
Bessie of Lanerk, and our Bibles,  
And learned Religion by tradition,  
Which smells of Popish superstition:  
To pay our Fines we were so willing,  
Which was for each fault Twenty Shilling:  
Though we alleged for our defence,  
It was too much by Eighteen Pence.   

At last, we had no more to give,  
Neither knew we how to live;  
They felled all our Hens and Cocks,  
And rooted out our Kail Stocks,  
And cast them o'er the Dikes away,  
And bid us, jeering, fast and pray.  
Being incensed with such harms,  
We were necessitate to Arms;  
And through the Country we did come,  
We had far better stayed at home.  
We did nothing but hunt the Glaiks,  
For after we had got our paiks,  
They took us every one as Prizes,  
And condemned us in Assizes,  
To be hanged up every where,  
And fixed our Heads up here and there.  
Once dreadful Heads, Sir, all did doubt them,  
They had so meikle wit about them.  
And we, who scaped those grievous Crosses,  
Did hide ourselves in Bogs and Mosses:  
Where we fed on sodden Leather,  
Mingled with crops of Heather;  
Which, our hunger to assuage,  
We thought most savoury Pottage;  
For Drink, it was no small matter,  
If we got clear, not muddy Water;  
In which, we heartily do wish  
There be none who desire to Fish;  
That by the Devil's instigation,  
Brings on us all this tribulation.  
When in that case we could not stand,  
We Sally, Sir, with Sword in hand;  
Let men cry, Rebels, till they grow hoarse,  
We're Subjects never a white the worse.  
Though we prefer you not to God,  
Who do so, Sir, their Faith will nod.  
If Government take changing tours,  
They will renounce both you, and yours;  
As doth appear by some of late,  
When that Usurper ruled the State:  
They strove, Sir, to be sent apace  
To abjure you in the World's face.  
Though some, Sir, of our Duniwessles  
Stood out, like Eglingtoun and Cassils',  
And others, striving to sit still,  
Were forced to go against their will:  
Yet other some, as all men knows,  
Who should be sent, were near to blows;  
That is, at very boisterous words,  
Putting their hands upon their Swords,  
To make men think that they were stout,  
When it was known the World throughout,  
To fight your foes, when they were sent,  
They always took the Bog a-sclent,  
And running from the fight by stealth,  
Would then sit down and drink your health:  
And since they could not think, like Asses,  
To beat your foes by drinking Glasses;  
It's evident, Sir, as we think,  
They drank your Health for love of Drink.   

Yet many, Sir, were disappointed,  
Who so forsook the Lords Anointed;  
They were not all alike regarded,  
Some well, and some were ill rewarded:  
They who played best with both the hands  
Enriched were by their Neighbour's Lands  
Some from their Creditors got refuges  
Some were made Clerks, and others Judges:  
Some swearing their Stocks were spent,  
Strove to get down their Anualrent:  
Detaining, Sir, by that extortion,  
The Fatherless and Widow's portion,  
Which Usuring Fathers Lent to Lairds,  
Who played it all at Dice and Cards:  
Which forced some Lasses to miscarriage,  
Because they could not get a Marriage.  
But among those of stricter life,  
The truth-tell-colour grew so rife,  
That it marred all the Charms and Graces  
Of those who could not paint their Faces.   

But other some got mocks and scorns,  
By giving to their Landlords Horns,  
And spewing Claret, mulled with Eggs,  
Between the Lord Protectors Legs,  
When they did endeavour to pray  
Before him, on a Fastingday.  
Some Whally's Bible did begarie,  
By letting flee at it Canary,  
Taking it up, where it lay next,  
That they might read on it the Text;  
When Cromwell Preached with great applause  
The Revelation of his Cause:  
And some of them empawned their Cloaks,  
And other some brought home the Pox:  
Giving foul Linnings all the wit,  
Some turned your friends for mere despite;  
Vowing you never to withstand  
Again, without something in hand.  
And some turned Ordinance-forsakers,  
Others for grief of heart turned Quakers:  
Some in their Conscience took remorse,  
Crying, I'm damned, till they grew hoarse,  
And made the standers by admira  
To see them take the fits of Spira.  
To bring those troubled Souls to peace,  
Some reads Alvarez helps to grace;  
Some Sanctuary of a troubled Soul,  
Some cited Passages of Paul:  
Explaining well what he did say;  
Some reads on Mr. Andrew Grace:  
Some told the danger of back-sliding,  
Some the good of Faith abiding;  
Some reads the Cases of Richard Binning,  
Some Fergusson reads of Kilwinning:  
And some them pressed very sore  
To hear a little of Doctor More:  
But others cried, Away, and Tush  
With Vipers in a Balmy Bush?  
With blind Pilots, guiding Ferries,  
With Toads lurking in Strawberries.  
His Doctrine of Justification  
Drives all the Court to Desperation.  
Few there are saved, as we guess,  
By their inherent righteousness.  
He hath some good among great evils,  
He tells of Bastard getting Devils  
Of their Bodies, or Vohicles,  
Their Heraldry and Conventicles.  
It's sport to see his fancy wander  
In their Male, and Female Gender.  
He doth so punctually tell  
The whole oeconomy of Hell,  
That some affirm he is Puck Harry,  
Some, he hath walked with the Fairy.  
Though Intellectuals be neat,  
Though he mean well, and is no cheat,  
His case is desperate and sad,  
For too much Learning makes him mad.  
we'll read on the True Converts Mark,  
Or we will read on Bessie Clark,  
Or else on Baker's Heavenly Beam,  
Or on the Lady Culross Dream;  
Which sundry drunken Asses flout,  
Not seeing the Jewel within the Clout.  
Like Combs of Cocks, who takes no heed  
When they Gower, or Chaucer read.  
When they had said, and read their fill,  
It did not cure the Patients ill:  
They still cry on, and howl, and mourn,  
Their counsels would not serve the turn.  
No comfort at all find they can,  
Until a Grave and Reverend Man  
Advise them to resist temptation,  
With Spanish Wine, and Fornication.   

Those Rebels also to obey,  
Those Hirelings cease▪ d for you to pray;  
Because their Stipends, and their Living  
Were at the foresaid Rebels giving.  
They thought a man a venial sinner  
Who left sworn duty for his dinner:  
Yea, some of them were of opinion,  
They might pray for that Devil's Minion.  
They would not stick for love of Pelf,  
To pray, Sir, for the Devil himself:  
But we, in the Usurpers faces,  
Remembered you in Prayers and Graces;  
And if we had had Guns and Swords,  
Our actions would have backed our words.  
Our fault, Sir, was, for which we moan,  
We thought to do it all alone.  
Since it was only want of wit,  
Since it was a distraction-fit,  
We pray you, Sir, be no despiser  
Of us, whom God hath made no wiser.   

Royal Sir, to those our times  
Applied may be a Poet's Rhimes,  
Who coarsely singeth, that a Wight  
Obeying King, in wrong or right;  
If that the King to wrack shall go,  
Will in like manner turn his foe:  
But who obey no sinful thing,  
Do still prove constant to their King.  
The Rhyme is barbarous and rude,  
But, Sir, the say rich and good;  
In Print yet forth it hath not crept,  
We have it in a Manuscript:  
The Goodman keeps it, as we think,  
Behind a Dish, upon the Bink:  
And yet it's thought by many a man  
Most worthy of the Vatican.  
It's worthy, Sir, of your Saint James  
That stands upon the River Thames.  
Ye'll not find saying such another,  
Put all their Guilded Books together:  
Tho with these two ye join in one  
The Bibliotheck of Prester John.  
Cause Pages cry it still before ye,  
As Philip did Memento mori.   

Since than we Arm for Conscience sake,  
May't it please you, Sir, some pity take,  
And not by Bishop's instigation  
Enforce on us the Declaration,  
Nor make us give, beyond our reach,  
To keep's from hearing Hirelings Preach;  
Who last year Preached Oaths to take,  
And this year Preacheth them to break:  
When they have forced men to take them,  
Than first of all, themselves they break them.  
Except God, Sir, their manners mend,  
They'll oath it to the World's end.  
Men either must foreswear themselves  
As oft as they turn Coats for Pelf,  
Or else their Conscience is so scurvy,  
They will turn all things topsie turvie.  
And we will give what we can reach  
To keep's from hearing those men Preach,  
As Achisons, Balbies and placs,  
Which is enough, Sir, for our packs.  
Likewise, in any other thing  
We will obey you, as our King,  
If ye require it at our hands,  
we'll quite to you both Lives and Lands.  
Nothing to fight can us compel,  
Except to keep our Souls from Hell;  
What ever mischief us befall,  
Or else the Devil take us all.  
Ye need not, Sir, distrust, or fear,  
When Out-law-whiggs do Ban, or Swear;  
It doth unto the World appear,  
Keeping our Oaths hath cost us dear.  
We pray God, that Your Majesty,  
And then Your Royal Progeny,  
May peace and truth with us defend,  
As Kings, unto the World's end.  
We with all duty and respect  
Your gracious Answer do expect.    

A Debate between the Knight and Squire; about the mending of the Petition, and who should carry it to the King.  
ANd thus the Supplication ended,  
The Squire cried out; it should be mended:  
Being desired to tell the cause,  
First with all ten his Arse he claws,  
And then his Elbow, and his Head,  
Winking a while, as he were dead;  
And clapping both Hands on his Snout,  
At last his reason tumbled out;  
To wit, it did not move to grant  
Renewing of the Covenant.  Knight. 
At which the Knight gave such a groan,  
As would have rend a heart of stone:  
And casting both his eyes to Heaven,  
He said, not though the Earl of Levin  
Were on our heads, we durst not do it,  
It's base to put the King so to it:  
It is a most presumptuous thing,  
To cross the Conscience of a King.  
Some honest men did never take it;  
Some honest also were who broke it;  
But he who breaksed against his light,  
Let it be wrong, let it be right,  
By Prophets and Apostles leave  
We dar aver his a knave.  
On singulars we will not harp,  
For the apply will be to sharp.  
We put down Bishops, to our cost,  
Yet two or three still ruled the Roast;  
Some of which played such pranks at home,  
As never Pope presumed at Rome.  
It is the simplest of all tricks  
To suffer fools have chopping Sticks.  
A Sword put in a wood man's hand,  
Bred meikle trouble to the Land.  Squire. 
The Squire replied, they're scarce of news,  
Who tells, their Mother haunted Stews.  
Who on his Brother rubs disgrace,  
He spits upon his Mother's face.  
Each Covenanter is our Brother,  
The Covenant, of all is Mother.  
Their wit is dull, and very gross,  
Who think where Gold is, therc's no Dross:  
Where there is Corn, there may be Chaff,  
Where there is Malt, there may be Draff:  
Thistles with Corn grow on the Riggs,  
And Rogues may lurk among the whigs.  
And Friars in Lent may be Flesh-eaters,  
And Covenanters may be Cheaters,  
And Weeds grow up with fairest Flowers,  
And sighing Sisters may be Whoors.  
As Fruit on Trees grow, so grow Leaves,  
It's certain Bishops may be Knaves;  
It's known to all, the Devil may dwell  
In some of fourteen, as of twell.  
To blame a Cause for Persons Vices,  
Is one of Satan's main devices,  
By which he very oft doth make  
Wellmeaning men the truth forsake.  
But let us first the Question state,  
Before we enter in debate,  
Which of the two should bear the sway,  
The Mitres, or the Elders Lay.  Knight. 
The Knight did pause a pretty while,  
Then answered with a scornful smile,  
I tell thee, fool, I think Government  
Of Church, a thing of small concernment:  
The truth it's very hard to find,  
It puzzleth the learnedst mind.  
Some do the Presbytry conceive  
New forged by Clavin at Geneve;  
Some say, he puts to execution  
Paul the Apostles Institution,  
Which suffered exile and ejection,  
The time of Paul's foretold defection.  
Some say, since Bishops did appear,  
It's more than Fifteen hundred year;  
Some say, that then they did begin  
The Pope of Rome to Usher in:  
That Paul's iniquities, mystery working,  
Was men, then for precedency forking.  
Some Presbyterians do conclude,  
But Bishops say, such thoughts delude:  
Which comes from brains which have a Bee,  
Like Urquharts' trigonometry.  
Some Bishops prove by Scripture-phrazes  
As by the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
How John the Angels seven did greet,  
Why Paul did Titus leave in Crect.  
But other some boldly asserts,  
Who reason so, the Text perverts.  
Some call the Bishop's Weathercocks,  
Who where their Heads were turn their Docks.  
Still stout for them who gives them most,  
And who will make them rule the Roast.  
Some say, that Bishops have been good,  
And sealed the Gospel with their blood;  
As ready for the truth at call,  
As any Whig among us all.  
Perhaps a railing foolish Ranter  
Will tell a Bishop Covenanter  
An honest Clergyman will be,  
When Cable passeth Needle's eye:  
For some of such had played a pavia,  
Though all the Cables of the Navy  
In one, should pass through Needles-eye,  
whigs still would doubt their honesty.  
Some say, a Bishop Covenanter,  
If a penitent repenter,  
Causeth more joy to Spirits Divine,  
Then all the other ninety nine.  
Some Father Tales upon King James,  
To sundry Presbyterian Dames,  
That he was forced of Knaves to make them,  
For Devil an honest Man would take them.  
Some say, the King gave never leave  
To make a Bishop of a Knave.  
That those men are evil speakers,  
Taxed by Judas, spiritual Quakers:  
That none doth hate Nobility;  
For Quakers blaming Heraldry.  
And some again are, who compares  
Our Bishops unto Baiting Bears;  
Who, if they be not kept in awe,  
They will tear all with teeth and paw:  
Yet tractable in every thing,  
If in their Snout ye put a Ring.  
And many men again there be  
Who say the same of presbytery;  
And some say this, and some say that,  
And some affirm, they know not what.  
It's grief to see them Scripture vex,  
And wrest it, like a Nose of Wax;  
And he who is deceived most  
All Fathers on the Holy Ghost:  
Some quiting Prophets and Apostles,  
Thinks best to plead the Cause by postils:  
And some do dispute by Tradition,  
Some calls that Popish Superstition;  
And some affirm, that they had rather  
Follow a Counsel, than a Father:  
And some affirm, it buits not whether,  
They are blind Leaders all together.  
And since the truth is found by none,  
No more than is that turn Gold Stone,  
It's best, Zancho, for aught I see,  
To take a Pint, and then agree.  
Let men have Bishops at their ease,  
And hear what Preachers best them please;  
If we be fred of Declaration,  
And of that other great vexation  
We mentioned in our Petition,  
We'll alter it on no condition;  
Then we will serve the King as much  
Against the Dane, and French, and Dutch,  
As any in his three Dominions  
Who hateth us, or our opinions:  
If he command us, we will come  
Like Goths, and Scale the Walls of Rome,  
And bereave Babel's Whore of breath,  
Or die the Duke of Bourbon's death.  Squire. 
The Squire made many odd Grimass  
Ere he could speak, like Balaams' Ass;  
Sometime he winked, sometime looked up,  
And running backward like a Tupp,  
For to return with greater force,  
He snorted like a very Horse;  
One thought upon another tumbled,  
One while he grinned, another grumbled.  
At last, like Cant, or Trail, or Durie,  
He gave a Broadside in a fury:  
Looking as he would eat them all,  
His words flew out like Cannon Ball.  
The love of Pelf comes from the Devil,  
It's root of all mischief and evil:  
It makes Lords sup without a Candle,  
When none can see their Knife to handle:  
While to bring Candles Servants lingers,  
Ten Candles will not heal their Fingers.  
It makes Foreheads and Shins to bleed,  
By saving Candle, to light to Bed.  
It makes them keep their Cellar Keys,  
Set secret marks on hams and Cheese;  
Which, if but in the least defaced,  
Wives, Servants, Bairns are all menaced.  
It makes them prigg for Milk and Eggs,  
Put in a Broth Cocks, halfs, and Legs:  
It makes them Clout Elbows and Breasts,  
Keep Rinded Butter in Charter Chests,  
Till Rats eat all their Law-defences,  
And Families old Evidences:  
It makes them pay their Mason's Wages  
By Usury, on Weds, and Gadges  
Taken from Widows, who were plundered,  
By paying Forty in the Hundred.  
It corrupts hamel, Sharp, and Sweet,  
It poisons all, like Aconite:  
If it touch Hide, it goes to Heart,  
And so affecteth every part.  
The great ones do betray their trust,  
Ladies throw Honour in the dust,  
Like those who trod the Cyprian Dance  
With that Financier of France.  
It Puritan doth make of Ranters,  
And Cavaliers of Covenanters;  
Of Lords and Earls it makes Drapers,  
Of Priests and Levites it makes Capers.  
It maketh grave and reverend Cheats  
In Pulpits, and Tribunal Seats:  
For any Crime it finds defences,  
With Oaths, it like a Pope dispenses:  
It causeth among Brethren strife,  
It makes a Man Pimp to his Wife:  
It makes yield Fortresses and Towns  
Sooner than Armies with great Guns:  
It sets afire Cities and Streets,  
It raiseth Tragedies in Fleets;  
It makes the vanquished victorious;  
And foil than victory more glorious:  
It makes rebellion rise and fall,  
And hath such influence on all,  
That whom it made rebellious Nurses,  
It loyal makes, to fill their Purses:  
It causeth many a bloody strife,  
When needy malcontent grow rife:  
Then by it Church and State are mended,  
And will be till the world be ended.  
Master, we all observe and mark,  
Since ye once doubt, ye will embark.  
Why do ye Conscience so neglect?  
Or, what, Master, can ye expect?  
Although among the whigs ye Preach,  
A Bishopric ye cannot reach:  
For Bishoprics are given to none  
Like Presbyterian John Gillon,  
Who, when he takes his Preaching-turn,  
Will make more laugh than he makes mourn.  
Ye have infused in us Sedition,  
Ye will us leave in that condition:  
And then cause Print a Book of Season,  
Tax whom ye have seduced of Treason.  
And when so doing, all men see,  
Ye sing the Palinod of Lee.  
The Cavaliers will still you call  
The Archest Rebel of us all.  
Thus having said, he made a halt,  
And stood, like Lot's Wife turned to Salt,  
With Ear attentive, earnest Eye,  
He did expect the Knights Reply.  Knight. 
Who stroked his Beard, and bit his Lip,  
And wiped his Nose, and scratched his Hip,  
He wried his Mouth, and knit his Brows,  
He changed more than twenty hues;  
His Hands did tremble, his Teeth did chatter;  
His Eyes turned up, his Bum did clatter,  
His Tongue on Teeth and Gums did hammer,  
He fain would speak, but still did stammer:  
His Garb was strange, dreadful, uncouth,  
Till through his Epileptic Mouth  
Those following speeches fierce and loud  
Burst out, like Thunder through a Cloud.  
Thou poisons all, my little Grex,  
Thou sentence-speaking Carnifex:  
Thou hardy and presumptuous are  
To meddle so with Peace and War;  
Rub my Horse Belly, and his Coats,  
And when I get them, dight my Boots;  
For they are better than Gramashes  
For me, who through the Dubbs so plashes:  
Yet I'll wear none, till I put on  
Those of the Priest of Livingston;  
Who, when they hid them in the Riggs,  
Said they were plundered by the whigs,  
Unto another Priest, his Marrow,  
Who sent a Maid his Boots to borrow,  
Whose Boots were plundered indeed,  
As was his Salt Beef, and his Steed.  
Teach what I please, thou'st not forbear  
To meddle with things without thy Sphere;  
Like-Taylors making Boots or Shoes,  
Or like Shoemakers making Hose.  
Like some I know, as blind as Owls,  
Playing at Tennis, and at Bowls,  
And sometime Shooting at a Mark,  
Like Passavantius playing the Clerk,  
Who meddled with, he knew not what,  
That he might get from Rome a Hat.  
Men oft by change of station tynes,  
Good Lawyers may prove bad Divines:  
Like Sadoletoes Dog in Satin,  
Like Ignoramus speaking Latin:  
Which raised most unnatural jars,  
As between Law and Gospel Wars.  
Like Bembo's Parrot singing Masses,  
Like men of seventy Courting Lasses;  
Like Highland Lady's knoping Speeches.  
When they are scolding for the Breeches,  
Like Massionella freeing Naples  
From Gabells put on Roots and Apples.  
Like Tailor's scanning State concernments,  
Or Cobblers clouting Church Governments.  
Like some attempting tricks in Statiques,  
Not versed in Euclids Mathematics.  
Like Pipers mending Morleys' Music,  
Or Gardeners Paracelsus Physic.  
Like Atheists pleading Law refuges;  
Like Country Treisters' turning Judges.  
Like Preachers stirring up devotions,  
By Preaching Military motions;  
Proving their uses and didactiques,  
By passages of Aelians tactics.  
Like Ladies making Water standing,  
Like young Lairds, Horse & Foot commanding.  
Like Monckeys playing on a Fiddle,  
Or Eunuches on a Ladies middle.  
Like Gilliwetfeet purging States  
By papers thrown in Pocks or Hats;  
That they might be, when purged from dung  
Secretaries for the Irish Tongue.  
Great wounds, yet curable, still faister.  
When fools presume to rule their Master;  
As sad experience teached of late,  
When such reformed Church and State:  
Though all the Public did pretend,  
All almost had a private end.  
There was no place of War, or State,  
But was by twenty aimed at;  
Whereof ninteen were disappointed,  
Which made the Body whole disjointed;  
And raised among them such divisions,  
That they were to their friends derisions.  
Some aimed at the Embroidered Purse,  
Some the Finances to deburse,  
And other some thought to be getters  
By writing of the Privy Letters:  
Some aimed at Privy Seal, or Rolls,  
Some Customs gathered in, and Tolls:  
Some did dry Quartering enforce,  
Some lodged in Pockets Foot and Horse:  
Yet still Bogg-sclented, when they yoked,  
For all the Garrison in their Pocket:  
And some made men Mortgage their Lands,  
To lend Money on public Bands,  
To be paid at the Resurrection:  
Some Fines paid who opposed defection;  
Some sold the Soldier's Mity Meal,  
And some did from the Public steal;  
And some, as every body says,  
Used more than other twenty ways:  
Yet notwithstanding of all that,  
They: were lean Kine devouring fat.  
None gained by those bloody fairds,  
But two three Beggars who turned Lairds;  
Who stealing public Geese and Wedders,  
Were fred, by rendering Skin and Feathers.  
When others of this Church and Nation  
Returns unto their former station:  
And now, for all their stomaches stout,  
Comes home more fools than they went out  
Thou, like a Firebrand, dost advise  
Us to be fools, when all are wise:  
Thy endeavours are all in vain,  
Ere we shall play such pranks again,  
The Patagons shall Masses mumble,  
The Dons of Spain shall all be humble,  
Italians shall speak as they think,  
Germains, when Sun's set, shall not drink;  
Swedds gaining day, shall not pile Baggage,  
And English hate shall Beef and Cabbage,  
The Russ and Pole shall never jar,  
Danes shall gain by a Sweddish War;  
Victorious Turk shall stand to reason,  
Scots shall be beat, and not blame treason;  
The Dutch shall Brandie slight, and Butter,  
And England Conquer by De Ruyttek:  
The first burned ardour of French hearts  
Shall not turn to a rack of farts,  
And they shall spell as they do speak,  
And they shall sing as they do prick:  
With Oaths they shall not lard their Speeches,  
Nor change the fashion of their Breeches.  
All shall have for assured news,  
That Pope from Rome have banished Stews:  
Rebellion shall return from Hell;  
And do things which I will not tell.  
Though it were true, as some compares  
Our Bishops unto baiting Bears,  
Who, if they be not kept in awe,  
They will tear all with Teeth and Paw.  
Yet many utterly mislikes,  
That Butcher Presbyterian tycks  
Should flee upon their throats and faces,  
To curb their Lordships, and their Graces:  
His Majesty, without all doubt,  
Should only Ring them in the Snout.  
If they so swell, that none can bide  
Their malice, avarice, and pride;  
Vices, which all the world doth ken  
Familiar to Clergymen;  
Of which, though palliate with art,  
Our own Presbytry had their part.  
Our duty is, with all submission,  
To press the grant of our Petition:  
The King will suffer us, perchance,  
As Lewis doth Huggonots in France:  
And in his Wars, Civil and Foreign,  
Make me Command in Chief, like Turrain.  
And though he grant not our demands,  
Away with Covenants and Bands;  
Kings must command, we must obey,  
They Rebels are, who truth gainsay.  
Some tell, we must the truth so love,  
As of it not to quite a hoove.  
As said another fool, thy marrow,  
As if his Majesty were Pharo.  
For my part, ere I trouble peace,  
I'll Bishops call, My Lord and Grace;  
And kneel at the Communion Table,  
Make Christmas-Feasts, if I be able:  
Private Sacraments I'll avow  
children's confirming I'll allow;  
And I will hear the Organs play,  
And Amen to the Service say.  
I'll Surplice wear, and High-sleeved Gown,  
And to the Altar I'll bow down.  
Yea, ere his Majesty be wroth,  
I'll Primate be, and Chancellor both.  Squire. 
The Squire replied in a chaff,  
He girned so, that he seemed to laff:  
And when ye travel in Carosses,  
Ye will salute the Highway Crosses;  
And when with danger ye are pressed,  
Ye will cross, sign forehead and breast,  
And ye will to our Lady pray,  
And travel on the Sabbath day;  
And ye will play with Lords and Lairds  
All Sermon time at Dice and Cards;  
And Duels fight, like those of France,  
And drunk and Cripple lead a dance,  
And ye will venture Axe and Rope,  
By writing Letters to the Pope,  
To tell him, though ye here by Haman,  
Ye worship with the King, like Naman,  
And then accuse us all of Treason,  
When ye put out your Book of Season.  Knight. 
The Knight looked fiercely then about,  
Thus thundering with a dreadful shout,  
Constant madness thy Brains inthrals,  
Thou hast no Lucid intervals.  
Thy Waspish Tongue will never fail  
To prat, to scold, revile and rail:  
Though men should bray thee all to Powder,  
Thou still, Theristes, plays the louder.  
All honest and unbyass'd ken  
Those whom thou meansed, were worthy men;  
They had some faults, though not so big,  
As rotten Flees, to spoil a Pig  
Of Ointment; sooner it is known,  
We others faults see, than our own.  
Presbyterian, never one  
Faultless, at them could cast a stone.  
It's certain, it comes from the Devil,  
To hide men's good, and tell their evil:  
They never learned that of Paul,  
Or David, when he mourned for Saul.  
Thou art a Coxcomb, void of reason,  
To tell me of a Book of Season:  
Thou learnd'st when thou kept Sheep & Hogs,  
With one Stone for to hit two Dogs.  
Though thou spew Venom like a Toad,  
That Book is much esteemed abroad.  Squire. 
The Squire replied, many deem  
Beyond Sea it is in esteem:  
When once it passed Pentland Firth,  
It raised among them such a mirth,  
That some for laughter burst their Rheens,  
And other some did split their Spleens:  
They cherished it in every School,  
To be their Bibliotheca's fool;  
When serious reading health did spill,  
That they might read and laugh their fill:  
Physicians it prescribed to men  
As Cure approved for the Spleen:  
At Public Meetings, and at Feasts,  
It was the Topics of their Jests.  
Some say, since known, all his life  
To have had with the Bishop's strife:  
Since for the Covenant none more wood,  
To make three Nations swim in blood:  
Since he spared none whom he could reach▪  
Who 'gainst the Engagement did not Preach:  
Since to the Cause he stuck so fast,  
Since Bishops was restored at last,  
That in the Pulpit he did grant  
A Bishop was the Devils plant.  
Giving to all his hearers leave,  
If ever he turned, to call him Knave.  
And since, as every body says,  
He changed in less than twenty days:  
It's very like, at others budding,  
He turned his Coat for Cake and Pudding.  
Some say, he is a sounding Brass,  
Which signifies a prattling Ass:  
He brings no reason which can bind,  
But only fights against the wind.  
It's clear, that it doth with him fare  
As with Samson without his Hair.  
Before his change his Wit was tough,  
And he could reason well enough:  
But now he kytheth like a fool,  
As one would whip a Boy at School,  
To vent in Print so little reason,  
And call it an Advice in Season.  
Some say, that he treads Bishop's Path,  
As David served the King of Gath.  
Though men to censure him be rash,  
He gives the Bishops such a dash,  
They need not brag their cause is won  
By the Foster of Henderson.  
Some say, he Bishops doth betray,  
That Presbytry may gain the day,  
Who fed him for their Champion hidden,  
Others affirm, they are out-bidden;  
Which makes him take a contrair task,  
As Edward answered once Southesk.  
A modest man wrote in a Letter,  
He might have pleaded meikle better.  
The charitable do not fear,  
But for a thousand Marks a year  
He would the Bishops yet withstand,  
If Covenanters ruled the Land.  Knight. 
Then said the Knight, though in a Mortar  
I bray this Fool, to no Exhorter  
Thou wilt give ear; he'll put thee to it.  Squire. 
To whom the Squire, what though he do it?  
Both Reason there and Justice halts,  
Where one's blamed for another's faults.  
Was never Judge did things so foul,  
Except himself, once at Saint Rule:  
He forged Records, and them Enacted  
To bear false Witness, when Extracted.  
I cannot tell, till I advise,  
Whether he did it twice or thrice.  
Next, I will tell that he gave leave  
If ever he turned, to call him Knave,  
But he can challenge no reflection  
Put on him at his own direction:  
He is obliged to keep his word  
As well as one who wears a Sword.  
But if he chance to be so wroth,  
As to break Word, as well as Oath,  
I'll tell him, I take frantic fits,  
And am distracted of my wits,  
As he, and others said of late,  
When they misguided Church and State.  
And I them taxed of forged Records,  
As I can prove before the Lords;  
If that succeed not, it effeers  
That I be judged by my Peers,  
That is, by fifteen Poetasters,  
Half-Fools, half Beggars, half Burlesquers:  
All of them proved, Drinkers, Whoorers,  
By Preachers, Forgers and Perjurers.  
Ere such a Jury can be gotten,  
It's certain, I'll be dead and rotten;  
Or if Justice so shall halt,  
As to cause hang me for his fault;  
Hanging to me will be less trouble,  
Then worrying on a windly Bubble  
At a Dike-side, or under a Stair,  
If Wether be not very fair.  Knight. 
But then the Knight, we hear, he'll quarrel,  
That thou once served Albemarle.  Squire. 
To which the Squire, I have no fears,  
He dar not challenged for his ears,  
For I can make appear to all  
They tossed me to him like a Ball.  
Next, ask that Duke, in any thing  
If ever I did prejudge the King  
I forced was to dissimulation,  
To shun a Rope, and serve my Nation:  
I did no evil, but meikle good,  
Saving men's Money, and their Blood;  
Which services I did for nought,  
Which were from men far richer bought.  
That Duke can tell, he did suspect it,  
Albeit to try, he did neglect it:  
When by their Crafty instigation;  
He urged was to my accusation.  
They all tell now of Albemarle,  
But they told him another quarrel,  
In pleading I could touch a string,  
Whose sound will make their ears to ring  Knight. 
The Knight said, tush, they'll no more stir,  
Then Moon, when barked at by a Cur.  
For all thy prat, on no condition  
I mind to alter the Petition.  Squire. 
Then said the Squire, if ye'l not mend it,  
Advise at least, by whom to send it,  
Since we Petition for Religion,  
Your Lady, or your Dog, or Pigeon  
Were fittest to be sent, if other,  
I'm sore afraid we lose a Brother;  
For I dar swear upon th'Evangel,  
When he hath got from each his Angel,  
To help his charges to defray,  
The Fellow will us all betray.  Knight. 
When things succeed not, fools do slight,  
Giving betraying all the wit,  
Replied the Knight, they said of late  
They were betrayed, when they were beat;  
And they said true, who did not stand,  
Betrayed are by heart and hand▪  
But to the point, as for my Wife,  
I'll never send her in my life;  
For fear some Courtier or other  
Would make me old King Arthur's Brother▪  
My Dog is an unruly Cur,  
And at the Court will keep a stir,  
Seeing Conformists up and down,  
He barks so at a High-sleeved Gown,  
That Bishops either will cause stone him,  
Or else yoke Boutcher Dogs upon him.  
As for my Pigeon, it cannot be,  
She hath another gate to slay:  
A Message she hath ta'en in hand,  
To search for that most happy Land,  
Unknown to any heretofore,  
But only to Sir Thomas More:  
Where we intent to fix Plantation,  
If forced to change our Habitation.  
And since a Poet rightly hits,  
That greatest fools have greatest wits,  
To shun self-dealing, it is fit  
To choose one not outgrown in wit;  
So he can Buffonize, and Jest,  
At public Meeting, and at Feast,  
And catch a time to tell the truth,  
Like David's great Grandmother Ruth.  
The whigs with an applauding hollow  
Cried out, his-counsel they would follow:  
Which once concluded, all arose,  
And set on Pans to make their Brose.  
When after that some fools were named  
To be employed, they all were blamed:  
And none thought fit, they still inquire,  
And find none fitter than the Squire:  
On him than they enforced the Message,  
When he went out on his Embassage,  
How at the Court he did arrive,  
How to affront him they did strive:  
But how the Buffoons all he outted;  
How Hudibras his Squire he routed,  
When they two yoked by the Ears  
About the baiting of the Bears:  
And how he managed every thing,  
And how he harranged to the King:  
And how he cited ends of Verses,  
And sayings of Philosophers;  
At which some laughed, and some were vexed,  
y''ll be advertised by the next.   
FINIS.   

MOCK-POEM, OR, whigs SUPPLICATION. PART II.  
LONDON, Printed in the Year, 1681.   

MOCK-POEM, OR, whigs SUPPLICATION.  
PART II.  

WHen Bushes budded, and Trees did chip,  
And Lambs by Sun's approach did skip;  
When Mires grew hard, like toasted Bread,  
That men might through the Carses ride:  
When folks drew blood of arms and legs,  
When Geese and Turkeys hatched Eggs:  
When poor folk's Pots were filled with Nettles,  
When Fish did domineer in Ketles;  
When Lent did sore annoy the Glutton,  
When Sun left Fish to lodge with Mutton:  
When night and day were of like length,  
Of March the eighth, or twelfth, or tenth:  
When several Critics, great and small,  
By mending Lines, did mar them all.  
When Transcribers preposterous speed  
Made them like Pictures spoiled with Thread  
On Arras Hangings backside, when  
The loured mistake of some men  
Made several great Wits of the Land  
Blame what they did not understand;  
And some to hunt a Flea contrive;  
The Squire near London did arrive:  
To meet him old and young came forth,  
As Rome did once to see Jugurth.  
They knew each passage of his Journal,  
Both by report, and by Diurnal:  
We dread, they will him sore abuse,  
But let us first invock the Muse.   

Thou Muse, who never dost abandon  
Those who have scarce a Leg to stand on  
When they ascend Parnassus' Mountain,  
Till in the end they taste a Fountain  
Which makes an Owl then them sing sweeter;  
Make me once more a fool in Meeter,  
That I may be of all admired,  
Confuting Presbytry, cashiered;  
Which I of late so much adored,  
But now, when I get nothing for it,  
Make me, O Muse! to change my Note,  
Declare against it, turn my Coat:  
Compesce me, Muse, these stout Bravadoes  
Of these stiffnecked Reformadoes,  
Who still maintain, unto this day,  
They have th'Office, though they want Pay;  
In others Harvest putting their Sickles,  
Troubling the Land with Conventicles;  
Whose stubborn hearts cannot be turned  
By the Dialogues of Gilbert Burnet.  
Prove, Muse, that Synod-men, Churchwardens  
Are Bears, and Synods are Bear-Gardens:  
For both have tongues, and teeth, and nails,  
But, Muse, what wilt thou do for tails?  
But that's all one, the matter's small,  
For true Bears have no tails at all:  
And so the simile still jumps,  
Instead of tails thou'lt find there rumps.  
When thou shows how the Squire disputed,  
And Ralph the Sectary confuted,  
That he of wits almost bereft him;  
But to the Squire now where welesthi him.   

He melted all in tears for pity,  
Seeing the ruins of the City:  
But when he saw in other places  
Houses arise with goodly faces,  
And Turrets mounting up, and soaring,  
And the Air's middle Region boaring;  
So Phoenix, when it's burnt in Spices,  
Up starts another from its ashes.  
Cried out the Squire, Rome once was burned  
By French, than World's Mistress turned,  
God may the same to London grant,  
If it renew the Covenant.  
While this he spoke, his Horse he lights off,  
And with his Handkerchief he dights off  
Tears from his eyes, then on the ground  
He grovelling lies meditabound,  
His Horses grievous succussation  
Had so excoriat his Foundation,  
That till the Hide his Hips did come on,  
The earth he could not set his Burn on.  
Then after sad Ejaculations,  
He vents these following Meditations.   

Wallace, quoth he, having ado,  
Still eat the quarter of a Cow,  
And to the boot, ere clothes were put on,  
He would sometimes dispatch a Mutton:  
For when he wanted morning far,  
He was like Samson without hair.  
A Priest, whose Teeth did Head and Legs swell  
Did still eat Powdered Beef and Eggs twell  
Before he Preached, else he half dumb sings,  
Like to a Fiddle wanting some Strings.  
Hence, by experience I gather,  
He is a liar, though my Father,  
Who thinks, a man can do or speak well,  
Who doth neglect his fast to break well.  
I am engaged in a Transaction,  
Quoth he, requiring Tongue and Action,  
That to my Tackling I may fast stick,  
Though I should lose my Ears like Bastwick:  
Though they should tie me Heel and Neck fast.  
It's requisite I take my Breakfast.   

This said, his Budget he unlooseth,  
And all the wealth within discloseth;  
Which for variety did scorn▪  
The wealthy Amelthea's Horn;  
Or the rich Abbey of St. Laurence,  
Or Cabin of the Duke of Florence,  
Ju'st like the Pocks of Graham and Guthry,  
It was his Vestry and his Buttery:  
His Lardner and his Bibliotheck,  
There lies of Oatmeal near a Peck,  
With Waters help which Girdles hot Bakes,  
And turns to Bannocks, and to Oat Cakes.  
There a piece Beef, there a piece Cheese lies,  
And there an old Nightcap of Freeze lies,  
His head attire, when he the house keeps,  
On which now here and there a Louse creeps.  
Here lies a pair of Shoes ne'er put on,  
And there lies a Poor Man of Mutton.  
There lies half dozen elnes of Pig-tail,  
There his Panash, a Capon's big-tail,  
With white in middle, shining Starlike,  
And there be Onion-heads and Garlic,  
The food of Turkish Janissaries,  
There Turpentine and Larie Berries:  
His Medicine for passage sweer,  
That for the Van, these for the Rear;  
And there a piece of Powdered Fish lies;  
And there some Butter in a Dish lies;  
There Turnips thirty inch about lies,  
And there some Pepper in a Clout lies,  
There Fingram Stockings spun on Rocks lies,  
And there his Sneezing Milne and Box lies:  
There lies his Elson and his Lingle,  
Which double-sold Shoes makes of single,  
With help of old pieces of Leather;  
There lies some Wool that he did gather,  
Left by the Sheep, as certain pledges,  
They were entangled in the Hedges:  
There Clouts and Papers little Mugs stops,  
As in Apothecary's Drug-shops,  
With Vinegar and Oil for Salads;  
And there lies books, and here lies Ballads,  
As Davie Lindsay, and Gray-Steel,  
Squire Meldrum, Bewis, and Adam Bell,  
There Bruce and Wallace, fierce-like Mars Knight:  
There lies Dialogues which his Arse dights  
There Last-goodnight, and Chevie Chase,  
With Gendarms in the Frontispiece,  
Which makes more weep, when they read on it,  
Thou Curates Sermons, fie upon it!  
And there lies Bands, Shirts, and Cravats,  
There two three Skins of Lambs and Rabbits,  
For to commence a London Trade,  
And this was all the Wealth he had.  
But pardon me, I had forgot,  
There was some other thing I wot;  
I think it Powder was, and Lead  
To shoot the Bishop through the head.   

He takes a Bible with Covering worn off,  
And ending and beginning torn off:  
He reads, and then he says the Grace,  
Then to his Victuals falls apace.   

When first bit scarce down throat was sliding,  
Within a days march of the midding,  
Then he a multitude espies.  
Approaching him with shouts and cries,  
He leaves his victuals, falls a-gazing,  
Just like a Tupp when he's a'grazing,  
When folks comes by, he slights his food,  
Stairs in their face and chews his Cude.  
He thought these fools came out to meet him,  
That first they might salute and greet him,  
That afterwards they might him bring  
With greater pomp unto the King.  
Such honour at their entry-hours  
Are due unto Ambassadors.  
Both dust and sweat from face he rubs off,  
A Looking-glass he makes the Dubs of:  
He trims his Beard, and then his Head too,  
Rights Basket-hilt on Shoulderblade too:  
His hands he washes, pairs his nails,  
Takes his Panash of Capon's tails,  
Which he pines on before his Hat;  
He put about a clean Cravat,  
And then upon his hands he streeches  
Two yellow Gloves, with green Silk steeches;  
Leaps to his Horse, and on he went,  
To take and give the Compliment:  
While hips excoreat, made him-swadle  
Through all the corners of the Saddle.   

When he the multitude approaches,  
His eyes he fixed first on the Coaches,  
Ranged like Wild-geese in a line;  
Then cried he out, no friend of mine  
If I can hinder those, shall enter.  
'Tis wonder people so should venture,  
To break their arms, and legs, and heads,  
And to disjoint their shoulder blades:  
Ladies to have their naked Breeches  
Both viewed and Lanced by the Leeches;  
Which made some Husbands forth a Tuck hold,  
Swearing the Rogue would make them Cuck old  
Those made a Lady of our Land  
Upon her neck and shoulders stand  
With a third of half dozen Thighs,  
Naked erected to the Skies;  
And ere that posture she was got off,  
Many did see the thing ye wot of;  
Which when they told her, readily  
She answered, she wondered why  
They did not kissed, and take their leave on't,  
It was the last sight they should have on't:  
She vowed thereafter, well I wot,  
With her Grand-dame to walk afoot  
When Coachmen drinks, & Horses stumble,  
It's hard to miss a Barla-fumble.   

Then did he seriously begin  
Well to consider those within;  
He soon perceived by their postures  
They were no Nuns brought up in Cloisters▪  
To show their Legs, some truss their Laps,  
Some throw off scarves to show their Paps,  
Some Masked were, the Sun to keep out,  
Which lifting, now and then, they peep out.  
Widows from Vails set out their Noses,  
As Snails do from their Shelly Houses;  
As they would say unto the Gallants,  
Come, gentlemans, behold our Talents:  
Come nearer, that we may espy you,  
If ye be aught worth, we will buy you:  
Where, ten to one, some get a fortune,  
As one did with my Lady Nortoun.   

Among the rest he did espy ones,  
Whom he conceived to be Hee-ones:  
Those he believed were his Mates,  
Ambassadors of Kings and States,  
To do him honour at his entry,  
With the Nobility and Gentry:  
He cried to them to keep the peace,  
And not to wrangle for the place,  
For all of them remembered well  
Of that Bowtad of Bateveile,  
Which cost the lives of brave Commanders,  
And well nigh lost his Master Flanders.  
He bids them all take place by Lots,  
No King had place, but he, of Scots,  
Whose Royal Ancestors, it's clear  
Has kept one Race two thousand year;  
Whose Successors as yet escaped  
The tricks of Pippin, and Hugh Capet.  
Others are not of that condition,  
They're Kings but of a late Edition:  
Though some be small, and others greater,  
Yet who go first, or last, no matter;  
For all their Gold, Spices, and Wines,  
They come from interrupted Lines.   

Being informed of his mistake,  
It was to Ladies that he spoke.  
What Devil they are? replied the Squire,  
They're men in Garb, and in Attire,  
They've Vests, they've Swords, they've Piriwigs  
They tread the measure of the Giggs,  
Just like the men, their Buttocks vapour,  
They cast their Gammonds up, and Caper;  
They Cajole Ladies at the Balls too,  
And standing piss against the Walls too:  
They're Spurred & Booted when they ride too,  
And gallop, when they Hunt, astride too,  
With Swords and Pistols they fight hard too,  
Some have appearance of a Beard too:  
And, which of all's the greatest wonder,  
They'ly above, their Gallants under.  
Me's Dames, quoth he, that we may ken  
Whether ye women be, or men,  
It's fit ye open keep before  
About a Trencher breadth, or more.  
Ye're Monsters, if that do not measure  
The Circuits of your Holes of pleasure.   

While he was giving this advice,  
They all surround him in a trice,  
All wondering at his Equipage:  
Some asked his Horse's price, and age:  
If there came sympathetick speed  
From Rider's heel, or heel of Steed;  
If there came an enchanting force  
To Master's Purse, from Skin of Horse;  
Some, why no Spurs, his sides to claw,  
And for Boots, several Ropes of Straw:  
Why Sodds for Saddle, and Branks for Bridle,  
And Plaids for Scarff about his middle.  
Some asked his Panashes price,  
If't was a Bird of Paradise.  
Some asked if Basket-Hilt and Dudgeon  
Had ever set a work Chirurgeon,  
Some Jeered the long Crown of his Hat,  
Some at his Gloves, some his Cravat,  
Ask more Questions at once  
Then would have puzzled John of Dunce,  
Or Bonaventure, or Soncinas,  
Or Biel Ockam, or Aquinas.   

When Sinan Bassa Charged a Hill,  
To try his Military skill;  
Though many a grievous wound it got  
By Cannon, and by Musket shot,  
The Hill did neither bow nor bend,  
Although he charged it thrice on end,  
But still abode him face to face,  
Choosing to die upon the place,  
Rather than turn its back and yield;  
Just so the Squire did keep the Field;  
And bravely did receive their Tongue-shot,  
Just as the Hill did Sinan's Gun-shot:  
He stood as senseless as a Stock is,  
Or among raging Waves, a Rock is,  
When furiously they knock its Crown,  
To make it break, or make it drown.  
At last, he said, with sober grace,  
When ye grow hoarse ye'll hold your peace.  
Then fair and softly on he tripped,  
For, like a Spaniard when he's whipped,  
He thought it was a great disgrace  
For to accelerate his pace.   

When they him saw so little troubled,  
Then they their Questions redoubled;  
Some asked his errand, and his name,  
And from what Potentat he came,  
From Turk, or Sophee, or Mogul,  
Who wear much Linen on their Skull,  
Or from either Tartarian Cham,  
Who of their Horse Hips make a Ham,  
Or from Pegu, or from Chine,  
Or from the Emperor Abyffine,  
Or from the Muscovite, or Poll,  
Or Dane, whose chiefest wealth is Toll,  
Or from the Emperor, or the Swede,  
Or Hogen Mogen Brotherhood;  
From the Savoyard, or the Swiss,  
Who Apples seethes with roosted Geese:  
From Florentine, or Protugnese,  
Or from Morocco, or from Fess;  
Or if he came from Spain or France,  
Or from some Indian Weerowance,  
To barter Gold and Beaver Skins  
For Glasses, Beads, and Knives and Pins;  
Or from the Presbyterian Scots,  
Who never yet had turned their Coats.  
Did he a Supplication bring  
To put ill counsel from the King;  
And that his Majesty would grant  
Renewing of the Covenant:  
And had Commission for to tell him,  
If he refused, they would compel him.  
When thus they pressed him so fast,  
Patience turned fury at the last:  
These last words did him so enrage;  
He faced about and gave a Charge;  
Then with his Tongue out, thus he stutters,  
With face awry, like old Cheese Cutters.   

You cursed Antichristian Rabble,  
Ye Mongrels of the Whore of Babel,  
Ye Sectaries, and Covenant-breakers,  
Half Cuckold, and half Cuckold-makers,  
For all your flouting, and your tanting,  
When we went first a-Covenanting,  
Ye did us court, ye did us bribe,  
Invited us, like Judas Tribe,  
To purge your ten Tribes of Israel  
From Jeroboams Calf, and Baal:  
Your money moved our Conscience  
To arm ourselves in your defence.  
When your intentions you had got,  
And by our means, had under foot  
Trodden all your foes, and them defeated,  
Atlast, we found we were but cheated.  
Your quarrel was, pretended bondage,  
By reason of Tunage and of Poundage,  
To get Militia by Law,  
To keep his Majesty in awe:  
To free yourselves when money waxes  
From Inquisitions and Taxes:  
Your only end was self enriching,  
Your solen Religion was your Kitchen.  
You valued Puddings sodd in Pocks  
More than Religion Orthodox:  
Whereas we witness God and Angels,  
Prophets, Apostles, and Evangels,  
For trash, or any earthly thing,  
We never did oppose the King:  
Yea, all of us, both great and small  
Will quit him Lives, and Lands, and all  
So he give way to purge the Temple,  
As pleaseth Mr. Gabriel Semple.  
He spoke so thick, he paused a little,  
And having cleansed his Beard from spittle,  
Like Tindale at the Stake, he cries  
Lord, open the King of England's eyes,  
And then his Majesty will grant  
Renewing of the Covenant.   

Thus did he perorat his flitting,  
As at Tarantums Spiders biting,  
They were affected thereanent,  
According to their Temperament.  
Sanguinians did only laff,  
Choleric Melancholians chaff.  
Some bade hang him, some bade stone him,  
And some did Mastiffs hunt upon him.  
Some Daple under Tail did prick,  
And made him bounce, and leap, and kick:  
Some aimed to tore his Straw Gramashes,  
Some cries, have at Beard and Moustaches:  
Some grasped him about the middle,  
Till Bumm did sound like Gamba Fiddle:  
Some would have Breeches down to whip him,  
Some with their Nails would tore & nip him;  
Some with Briars & Thorns would scratch him:  
One fearing that they would dispatch him,  
Who was a man more moderate,  
He made a Curtsy with his Hat,  
And begged leave to plead his Cause  
According to the Nations Laws.   

Contending with a foolish tongue,  
Quoth he, is but a War with dung:  
Though in the strife ye prove victorious,  
Dirt makes your finger-ends inglorious,  
As lately happened unto one  
Who needs would quarrel Sanderson,  
And prove he was a lying knave,  
Of which, what credit could he have;  
When he had done, he proved no more,  
Then all the world knew before.  
To take such pains, imports as much  
As any doubted he were such.  
Refuting such as he, with words,  
Is like Canary washing Turds:  
The Wine in taste and hue grows meaner,  
But Turds grow ne'er a whit the cleaner.   

This simile, though somewhat rude,  
Yet so appeased the multitude,  
That by degrees their clamour fell▪  
Like sound of Lutestring, or of Bell,  
When Thumb or Hammer of a Clock  
Gives the Epilogizing stroke.  
And in the end these furious Criers  
Stood silent like observant Friars,  
Or like to Dumbies making Signs,  
Or like to Fiddles wanting Strings,  
Or like to Salmon, or to Cod's,  
Or Turks, when they took in the Rhodes.  
Then piece and piece they dropped away,  
As ripe Plumbs in a rainy day;  
Till in the end, they all were gone,  
And left him standing all alone.   

Likeas, we do observe and see  
In those who are condemned to die,  
That they are sore annoyed and troubled,  
At first, when they cast off their Doublet,  
Truss up their hair, their eyes blindfold,  
That they may not grim Death behold:  
Thinking their neck the stroke is hard on,  
If any tell them of a Pardon,  
Although their heart be lighted somewhat,  
Yet fear and hope fight still a Combat,  
Till that they hear the Air to ring  
With Clamours of, God save the King:  
Then hope triumphs, and fear doth vanish,  
Like grief, when it's expelled by Spanish,  
Just so the Squire, when all at once  
They him oppressed with Fists and Stones,  
A gelide fear his heart possessed,  
His final hour approached he guessed:  
Trembling he stood, in a Quandary,  
And purged, as he had eaten Larie:  
As was confirmed by the speeches  
Of those who after washed his Breeches  
When he perceived the retreat,  
That flight, quoth he, is but a cheat.  
Like that of Greeks, for to destroy  
An ancient City, called Troy,  
By help of that Tree Horse of Pallas;  
It is some stratagem of Wallace,  
Who in a Pig-mans' Weed, at Bigger,  
Espied all the English Leaguer.  
But when he found by certain trial,  
The retreat was not forged, but real,  
Then did he resolution show,  
And like a Cock began to crow.   

One man, quoth he, ofttimes hath stood,  
And put to flight a multitude,  
Like Samson, Wallace, and Sir Bewis,  
And Finmacoul beside the Lews,  
Who in a Bucking time of year  
Did rout and chase a Herd of Deer,  
Till he behind, and they before,  
Did run a hundred Miles and more,  
Which questionless prejudged his Toes,  
For Red-shanks than did wear no Shoes;  
For to this day they wear but Calf ones,  
Or, if of older Leather, half ones.  
He chased them so furiously,  
That they were forced to take the Sea,  
And swum from Cowel into Arran,  
In which Soil, though it be but barren,  
As learned Antiquaries say,  
Their Offspring lives unto this day.  
But pardon me for such digressions,  
For, were it not for such expressions  
Which from the Muses we extort,  
Our Poems would be very short.   

Then did the Squire obtest, and pray,  
And them conjured that they would stay,  
For he had quarrel against none  
But Ralph the Squire, and Sanderson,  
Which two, as every body knows,  
Are Presbyterians mortal foes:  
Th'one calls them Bears by Allegory,  
That other Fellow wrote a Story,  
In which he doth them scandalise so,  
That all the Devils blush, he lies so;  
Thinking it would be liked well,  
He sent a Copy into Hell,  
To be perused in a committee,  
Then said a Devil which was witty,  
It serves for nothing, tell the fool;  
But to be Napkins at the Stool,  
When men exonerat their Tripes,  
Or lighting of Tobacco Pipes;  
For Hell's affairs are ne'er achieved  
By railing fools, of none believed:  
Hell's fittest Agents, as all grants,  
Are those who are reputed Saints.  
And thus he made an end of praying.   

Then all began to think of staying,  
And one another did exhort  
For to return and see the sport;  
But Sanderson appeared not,  
Stout Ralph amated not a jot,  
Bravely and resolutely did fall up,  
First at the trot, then at the gallop;  
Just as the Huggonots, victorious  
At Coutrus, charged the Duke of Joyeus,  
And was upon him ere he wist,  
Menaceing him with Tongue and Fist,  
With all the Rabble in his Rear,  
Who followed him to see and hear.  
The Squire, who only spoke in jest,  
Seeing what he expected least;  
He thought they verily were gone,  
And that the storm was over blown,  
Surprised with the sudden danger  
Of Ralph, in such a furious anger,  
Whom he thought did already spurn him,  
He knew not to what hand to turn him;  
At last, his tongue and teeth commences  
To vent Adages and Sentences.   

It is a saying wise and old,  
Quoth he, to make a Bridge of Gold  
To fleeing enemies, it's best  
To let a sleeping Mastive rest,  
Lest he, awakened with our knockings,  
Tear all our Breeches and our Stockings,  
And to the boot, our Shinbones hole up,  
And from our Buttocks take a Collop:  
And with his furious teeth our throats cut,  
Down which we watered Meal of Oats put;  
Which we prefer, with Loch-Broom Herring,  
To all the King of Babel's faring.   

A foolish tongue, without remead,  
Brings mischief on the owner's head;  
It is a pestilentious Clout,  
Causing contagion all about;  
It raiseth jealousies and fears,  
Yokes Kings and Subjects by the ears.  
What was it else, but tittle tattle,  
That brought our Brethren out to Battle?  
What stops them more from turning Loyal,  
Then tongues of some, esteemed Royal?  
With which they persecute those poor souls,  
As setting Dogs do Pouts and Muirfowls;  
At last, within their Nets ensnared,  
And from all hope of pardon barred,  
They force those poor men, under hand,  
Still to rebel, to get their Land.   

My tongue will bring me to that pass,  
Quoth he, to which was Hudibras,  
Who, when with honour he had got off,  
In the adventure that ye wot off,  
He not content, but seeking more,  
Loosed all that he had gained before;  
And was brought to a prison Tragic,  
In Wooden Castle, made by Magic;  
Where he too late laments his mishapes,  
As Ladies, when they do not Misclaps  
From Gallants, of their own procuring,  
From Husbands, when they go a-whoring.   

Having dispatched this Phrygian wisdom,  
Like Malefactor getting his doom,  
He strained what he could, to show  
A tres bon mein en mau vais Jeu.  
He out with Basket-hilt and Dudgeon,  
(While from his eyes came a deludge on,  
As from the eyes of Children whipped,  
Or sore Horse-eyes, with Vitriol nipped,)  
Stands at his posture, Fencer-like,  
And was within an Ace to strike;  
Yet on the sudden, doth advise.  
To take a course by far more wise.   

Wise men, quoth he, as all men knows,  
Try all things first, ere they try blows.  
When Rome to Conquer, all was hasting,  
Peace was the first, War was the last thing  
They did practise to subdue Nations,  
Who loved not such Innovations.  
If I the truth of Story miss not,  
This is the Cardo of the Dispute.  
And if my reasons do no good,  
I'll die their Breeches with their Blood:  
But this within himself he mutters,  
And then these words to Ralph he utters.   

What means this furious hurly burly?  
Friend Ralph, quoth he, I tell thee surely,  
I am no private man; believe,  
I am a Representative:  
To force me to Degladiations,  
Is contrare to the Law of Nations:  
Though thou me should bang back and side,  
I could it (Honour safe) abide.  
Brave Mansfield, challenged by Baumaru,  
Refused once to fight at Paris;  
Because he did Negotiate  
With Public Trust Affairs of State.  
The Spanish Agent Don Henriques,  
Put up a great affront of Criques,  
Who once at Rome, his pride to danton,  
His Nose saluted with a Panton.  
Dost thou esteem me such a Coward,  
To be afraid of one as thou art?  
Thy threatenings are like children's Squibs,  
Though they sing clothes, they break no Ribs▪  
Were it not that my Sword is rusted,  
Were it not that I am entrusted  
With things of such a high concernment,  
As Presbyterian Church-Government;  
For all thy frownings and thy cloudings,  
I would send Sunshine through thy Puddings.  
I do thee as a friend advise,  
('Tis better soon then late be wise)  
That thou would let alone this Swordfight,  
And grapple with me in a Word-fight;  
Let's try who others best can Confute,  
This is the Cardo of the Dispute,  
If Synod-members, and Churchwardens  
Be Bears, and Synods be Bear-Gardens.  
Thou dost affirm, I do deny,  
Prove't if thou can, I thee defy.   

One might have known by Ralpho's face,  
He loved not War so well as Peace;  
He only counterfeited courage,  
His wrath, to teeth-forward, was not true rage▪  
Yet he his passion so dissembled,  
That Squire at first both shaked and trembled;  
But when he heard the Squire speak big words,  
That in his Belly he would dig Swords,  
He looked then as if his Nose bled,  
And such a Flea within his Hose had,  
That in his mind was great confusion,  
Till he considered the conclusion;  
Where Peace was offered and the War gone,  
He gave God thanks, like Praise God Bairbo●,  
A good heart to himself he took then,  
And these same very words he spoke then,  
Which once the great Turk Solymanus  
Spoke to Vilerius, Liladamus';  
Having him under, such odds,  
That he was forced to quit the Rhodes.   

I'm glad to hear that now thy mind.  
Is more to Peace then War inclined;  
Then adds he, fight is a fool thing,  
What doth it else but sturt and dool bring.  
It's better Tongues decide the matter,  
Then other Noddles pelt and batter.  
Now others beck, now others Dock hit,  
As feathered Fencers do in Cockpit;  
Who fights but in their own defences,  
Let them be Kings, let them be Princes,  
By Law and Reason I them can bind,  
That they are enemies to mankind;  
As witnesseth Sir Thomas Kellie,  
And Grotius de Jure Belli.  
What are such Warriors but oppressors;  
And many times we see aggressors,  
Who trouble other men's reposes,  
Gain nothing else but bloody Noses:  
Who quarrels pick with Neighbour Nations,  
Get Halberds thrust through their Fundations,  
As we may read in many a Book  
Of Charles that Burgndian Duke.  
Poor High-way-men, with tattered hose, are  
Not Robbers half so great, as those are,  
Who Diadems wear on their head,  
And make so many living dead;  
And so much Christian blood mispends,  
Either for French or Spanish ends:  
These first, poor Rogues, will pick a Pocket,  
And break a Door up when its locket;  
And on the Highway will a Purse take,  
When cold and hunger makes their Guts ache.  
Those latter, with their Army's Legions,  
Robes Kingdoms, Castles, Towns and Regions:  
As said two ten Tuns Ships Commander  
To Macedonian Alexander.   

But now, let us come to the question,  
The which was raised the Contest on,  
Since thou so hard dost put me to it,  
I'll let thee see that I can do it:  
And have both will and wit to reckon,  
And beat thee at thy own tongue-weapon.  
Better perhaps, than thou believes,  
I'll prove these two affirmatives:  
That Synod-menbers, and Churchwardens  
Are Bears, and Synods are Bear-gardens.  
Thus said, his fingers he dispatches  
Unto his head, and winking scratches,  
First from the Van, unto the Rear,  
And then athwart, from ear to ear;  
While like sagacious Hound, he traces,  
And windeth all the Topick places:  
Till in the end prepared, Satis,  
He disputes thus a Comparatis.   

And first, quoth he, it's clear to all;  
They have the same original:  
For twenty Shillings to a Bodle,  
Both are the birth of humane noddle,  
Both are in that degree of kin,  
As other brethren uterine.  
It's certain, there is never a word  
Of either, in Scripture, on record:  
And without question and all doubt,  
Thus Bear-baiting may be made out  
By holy writ, as lawful as is,  
That Chain of Presbyrerian Classis.  
This for their birth; now for their nature,  
If with deliberation mature  
The case we ponder, beasts of prey  
And rapine, as are Bears are they  
Who do establish Gospel order  
By Rapine, Sacrilege, and Murder.  
What are their Orders, Constitutions,  
Church-censures, Curses, Absolutions?  
But several mystic Chains they make,  
To tie poor Christians to the Stake:  
And then set Heathen Officers,  
Instead of Dogs, about their ears.   

What else are Synods, but Bear-gardens,  
Where Elders, Deputies, Churchwardens,  
And other members of the Court  
Manage the Babylonish sport:  
For Prolocutor, Scribe, and Bearward,  
Do differ only in a mere word:  
Both are but several Synagogues  
Of Carnal men, and Bears, and Dogs:  
Both Antichristian Assemblies,  
To mischief bend, as far's in them lies:  
Both strave and tail with fierce contests,  
The one with men, the other Beasts:  
The difference is, the one fights with  
The tongue, the other with the teeth:  
And that they bait but Bears in this,  
In th' others Souls and Consciences.   

This to the Prophet did appear  
Who in a Vision saw a Bear  
Prefiguring the beastly rage  
Of Church-rule, in this latter age;  
Where every Hamlet is governed▪  
By's Holiness, the Church's head:  
More haughty, and severe in's place,  
Then Hildebrand, or Boniface.  
Such Church, must surely be a Monster  
With many heads, for if we Construe  
What in th' Apocalypse we find,  
According to th' Apostles mind;  
ti's, that the Whore of Babylon,  
With many heads, did ride upon.   

The Pastors who do rule this Kirk,  
What are they, but the handiwork  
Of men's Mechanic Paws, instilling  
Divinity in them, by feeling.  
From whence they start up chosen Vessels,  
As folks, by touching, get the Measles.  
So Cardinals, they say, do grope  
At th' other end, the new made Pope.  
Bell and the Dragon's Chaiplans, were  
More moderate than them, by far:  
For they, poor Knaves, were glade to cheat,  
To get their Wives and Children meat;  
But these will not be fobbed off so,  
They must have wealth and power too;  
Or else they'll make their party good,  
By making Nations swim in blood.  
And thus I reasoned the Case,  
Once with my Master Hudibras.  
All that I said was too prolix,  
Here to repeat, I only fix  
Upon the Morrow, with a few words,   

What thou has said's not worth two Cow Turds  
Replied the Squire, and then he smites  
Forehead with Fist, to rouse his wits;  
Which strait did take th'alarm so hot,  
That down to Tongue and Teeth they got:  
From whence, thus worded out, they fly,  
Like Bullets from Artillery.   

Ye Sectaries, quoth he, have bee-heads,  
Thy prats, a Cerberus, with three-heads:  
Neither of which barks any bon-sence,  
But railing, blasphemy, and nonsense:  
thou'rt ignorant in Logicks Art,  
As I will show thee ere we part.  
But to the point, now I will close,  
And reason 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
And first, I say, for my defence,  
Thy argument wants Consequence:  
Though things agree to both together,  
It follows not the one's the other.  
Affirmatives, in second figure,  
Nothing conclude in Logicks Ligure,  
Which any constant man believes,  
So we may prove Financiers Thiefs,  
Chameleons Beef and Cabbage eaters,  
And Lawyers, and Physicians, cheaters.  
That Horse are Men, and Owls are Ounces,  
That Privy Counsellors are Dunces:  
That chamberpots are Looking Glasses,  
And Senators of Justice Asses:  
That Colleges, and Muses Caverns  
Are Bawdie-houses turned, and Taverns:  
That Stews are places of Contrition,  
And Pulpits, Trumpets of Sedition:  
And Merlin's Prophecies Evangels,  
And Dees Spirits holy Angels:  
That all new Scurvies are the Pox,  
That Quakers Books are Orthodox:  
That roasted Wildcat is fed Lam,  
That Gresham College is a Bedlam:  
Most of our first Reformers bad-men,  
And all the House of Commons madmen:  
That Tallow Cakes are Ambergreese,  
That Sun and Moon are Cheshire Cheese  
And whigs, as loyal in Opinions,  
As any of the King's Dominions.   

This for thy form, now for thy matter,  
Thou rails one some, others to flatter:  
Thy Medium's seeming true, yet false are,  
As Turnips growing in the Paltzar;  
Or any other fertile ground,  
Hollow with Worms, though skin be sound:  
Like Apples in the Lake of Sodom,  
Like beauties clapped in the Bodom:  
Like sour Drink in Silver Tankers:  
Like Golden Petticoats on Shankers:  
Like bald Heads with Periwigs:  
Like sweet Powder on frizzled Giggs,  
With aged Ladies now in fashion,  
When they would play beside the Cushion.   

But who reason in generals,  
Th'argument contentions and brawls,  
They bring but bout-gates, and golinzies,  
Like Dempster disputing with Meinzies.  
Men hardly can scratch others faces,  
When they are distant twenty paces:  
I'll nearer come thy thrusts to Paree,  
Whereas thou dost Argumentaree,  
That Bear-baiting may be made out,  
Without all question and doubt,  
By holy Writ, as lawful as is,  
Lay-elder-Presbyterian Classis.  
Though few be clear, how doth the thing go?  
I answer unto thee distinguo:  
For if thou mean by Text express,  
Thou speakest the truth, as all confess.  
This is our Orthodox Defence,  
Presbytries proved by Consequence.  
It is no Popish superstition,  
By consequential tradition  
To prove an Article of Faith,  
As learned Polyander saith.  
What have our Doctors else to say  
For Paedobaptism, or that day  
Which changed was, when the Church spoke Greek  
From last to first day of the Week.  
If thou were put to this distress,  
To prove Bishops by word express.  
Then Oyster-wives might lock their Fish up,  
Come to the Streets, and cry, No Bishop.   

Whereas thou dost affirm and say,  
Presbytry-men are Beasts of Prey,  
Who do establish Gospel-order  
By Rapine, Sacrilege, and Murder:  
Thy reason hear both but and been halts,  
It's not the causes, but the men's faults.  
Unto that Sore, I gave this Plaster,  
When I did dispute with my Master:  
To blame a cause, for persons vices  
Is one of Satan's main devices,  
Wherewith he very oft doth make  
Wellmeaning men the truth forsake.  
It's not superfluous and vain  
To tell a good Tale o'er again.   

None can deny but these things fell out,  
But the true cause thou dost not smell out.  
Thy fallacy consists in this,  
Thou mak'st a cause where no cause is.  
Children are teached in the Schools,  
Who reason so, they are but fools.  
Was never yet a Reformation  
Of Church, in any Age or Nation,  
But still the Devil, to make it vain,  
The outmost of his wits doth strain:  
He beats all Hell up with a Taber,  
To make Reformers lose their labour▪  
When first he sees he doth no good  
By persecution and blood,  
By seeming Sheep, and yet but Goats,  
By Weeds appearing Wheat and Oats,  
By seeming Diamonds, yet but Glass,  
By seeming, Gold and yet but Brass,  
By Serpents in appearance Fish,  
By Silver Potles filled with Pish,  
By Saints without, and Fiends within,  
He strives the cause to undermine:  
As is recorded in the Pages  
Of Stories written in all Ages.  
When Christ appeared, came a Theudas,  
And with Saint Peter, came a Judas;  
With Luther, Rotmans' Knipperdolings,  
Who troubled Munster with their foolings.  
David George's, john's of Leyden,  
As is at large described by Sleyden.  
When Calvin came, then came Socinians:  
When Perbins' came, then came Arminians:  
With henderson's, and Cants, and Trails,  
Came some, who whisked Ladies Tails.  
Who for such take us, are to blame, as  
One would revile St. Paul for Demas.  
And others also came, to wit,  
These Locusts of the th'Infernal Pit:  
Who seemed at first all Covenant-takers,  
But strait turned Anabaptists, Quakers,  
Artemonits', Photinions,  
Servetians, Socinians,  
Manitheans, Novations,  
Sceptics, and Corpocrocians,  
Prochanits, Sabellians,  
Setheans, Circumcellians;  
Herodians, Herminians,  
Somonians, Armenians,  
Docitheans, Menandrians,  
Eunomeans, Cassandrians,  
Eutichians, Nestorians,  
And Doctor Hernry Morions;  
Noetians, and Martionitae,  
Gnostics, and Anthropomorphit▪  
Gortheans, and Calphurnitans,  
And Mr. Gilbert Burnetans;  
Meletians, and Arrians,  
And Antisabatarians;  
Helvidians, Cainians,  
Coluthians, Agrippinians;  
Some Chiliasts, and Lampetians,  
Some prove Melchizedecians,  
Cleobians, Florinians,  
And some prove Maximinians:  
Abelians, Thebusians,  
Ophitae, and Pepusrans,  
Rhetorians, Quintilianists,  
Circoterists, Pristilianists,  
Eucratits, Hermogenians,  
Marian's, and Origenians,  
Corintheans, and Alogians:  
Some half some whole Peligians,  
Some Antitactae, some Montences;  
Ascitae some, some Royatenses,  
Some Donatists, Volesians,  
Some archontics, some Aetians.  
And some turn Theodotians;  
Tascodrongits, Nepotians,  
And some Disciples turned of Brown,  
Who first infected every Town;  
Doritheans, and Fratricels,  
Some Neilorists, with Hood and Bells;  
Some Transylvanian Tritheitae,  
Who once made▪ drunk with Aquavitae:  
With Fists Alstedius did belabour,  
And tore the Beard of Bethlehem Gabor:  
Some Adamits, who as the speech is,  
Cast off their Petticoats and Breeches:  
Some other Heretics more gross,  
Described by Alexander Ross;  
For which, at present I want time,  
And though I had, I have not Rhyme.   

That thy Bear-simile may jump,  
Those were our Tails, that was our Rump,  
Which from our Buttocks being broke off,  
Did all these horrid things you spoke of.  
But if thou still insist to rail,  
Saying, we did them with our Tail:  
That cavel's very quickly put off,  
'Twas with our Tails, when they were cut off  
If with my cut off Arms and Legs  
Thou Bishops Noddles Crush like Eggs;  
Not I, late owner of the same,  
But thou who strikes, must bear the blame.  
It's true indeed, at the beginning  
We smelled those things were a-spinning;  
But who leads Ladies through the streets,  
Expecting favour within Sheets,  
Coming to places, fie upon't,  
Where none but one can pass in front,  
So Barricadoed is the way,  
With emptied Privies, Mire and Clay:  
If they find no clean place to stand on,  
Yet ere their Mistress they abandon,  
Through dung they march, like a bold Fellow,  
Till Shoes and Stockings grow Gold yellow.  
This is our case, if I have skill,  
Make the Apodosis who will,  
The sum is in our ends, we mean well,  
Though means we used, cannot sustain well.   

Whereas thou sayest, our Constitutions,  
Church-censures, Curses, Absolutions,  
Are several Mystic Chains we make,  
To tie poor Christians to the Stake,  
And then set Heathen Officers  
Instead of Dogs about their ears.  
At all thou dost not prove the question;  
The which was raised the Contest on.  
Madness within thy Brains hath far got,  
Proving them Bears, thou proves they are not  
Whoever yet did see or hear,  
That Bears yoked Dogs upon a Bear?  
As said thy Master, that brave man too,  
Who reasoned better than I can do,  
If Synod-Members, and Churchwardens  
Be no Bears, Synods no Bear-gardens  
Are, as to these is evident, Satis,  
Who reason can a Conjugatis.  
Thus worse than any man believes,  
Thou proves these two affirmatives:  
And after thou has Cracked so crouse,  
Thy Mountains do bring forth a Mouse.   

Whereas thou Presbytry dost 〈◊〉  
To be th' Apocalyptick Monster,  
Likewise to be this very Bear.  
Which to the Prophet did appear;  
Prefiguring the beastly rage  
Of Church rule in this latter age:  
Thou dost interpret Scriptures oddly,  
That thou may 〈◊〉 upon the Godly:  
A Scripturest thou 〈◊〉 as he was  
In whose fool Bonnet-case a Bee was,  
Who needs would Presbytry have the Cabal  
Deciphered of the Whore of Babel,  
The Antichrist 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Blood spilt,  
 
He was so mad, he 〈◊〉 no shame:  
Those very murdered 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 name,  
It's sure he either was 〈◊〉  
Or on a Stage the Fool he acted  
I'm confident and do believe,  
If these two brave men 〈◊〉 alive,  
They would get 〈…〉  
Who hatch such glosses in their brains.  
It's lamentable, many deem  
None love the King, but who blaspheme,  
And still make holy Writ the Scale, on  
Which they take measures for to rail on.  
presbytery for the King more stout, as  
Those whom the very Children flout, as  
Champions, who though tongue-valiant,  
Yet meeting with a fierce assailant,  
Though with their tongue they take his part,  
Their actions are not with a fart.  
They may well drink his health in Taverns,  
And speak big words in Holes and Caverns,  
Devising Stories, Lies, and Fables;  
Call his most Loyal Subject's Rebels;  
But when they come to blows and knocks,  
They face about, and turn their Docks.  
Runs to their Pottle, which they mind most,  
Crying, the Devil take the hindmost.   

Where thou sayest, Preachers of our Kirk,  
And Pastors, are the handie-work  
Of men's mechanic paws, instilling.  
Divinity in them by feeling:  
From whence they start up chosen Vessels,  
As men by touch get Itch and Meazels.  
I see not clearly what thou means here,  
I think thou blasphemy sustains here:  
This with our Church Monomachy  
Ends with a Gigantomathie.  
First, having fallen on her outworks,  
Or hedge, thy fancy round about works,  
Till in the end thou find occasion,  
Thinking she can make no evasion:  
Then thou with this blasphemous dart  
Thinks for to shoot her through the heart:  
Like Malefactor tied to Post,  
By railing on the Holy Ghost.  
The author of Manual Imposition,  
By Text express, and by Tradition,  
Thy own and others souls deluding,  
By such profane similituding.  
No Porphyre, Julian, or Celsus,  
(As all the ancient Stories tells us)  
The Christian Faith blasphemed, as thou doth,  
And others like thee, not a few doth:  
Who bred, out of the peccant humours  
Of this our Church, like Wens and Tumours;  
Like Maggots bred within a sore,  
Would that which gave them life devour.  
Thou'lt say, these last four Lines were stolen.  
I answer with that Red-shank sullen,  
Once challenged, for stealling Beef.  
I stole then from another Thief.  
Now since thy Sophistrie's confuted,  
I end, to have my Lungs recruited.   

When Ralph intended to reply,  
His voice was drowned with a cry  
Of those, contending who the better  
Had, of the Champions, some the latter,  
Some the first, and some said neither,  
And some affirmed, they knew not whether.   

There was, among the rest, a fellow  
Of swarthy hue, inclined to yellow;  
His hide enambled with itch was,  
He just splay-footed, like a Witch was:  
He was both broad and tall of person,  
With a long Sword behind his Arse on,  
Which he said was to serve the King;  
Some think he meant another thing:  
However he was such a person  
'Twas thought among them all was scarce one  
Who better understood how things went,  
What Rumps and Presbytries disigns meant,  
And the Kings too, it's known he  
Had sometime served all the three.  
They all conjured then alone him,  
That he would take the speech upon him,  
And finally decide the matter,  
Who had the worst, who had the better:  
Which unto him would be but small pains,  
Who under all had made no small gains:  
At which requist the Cacodaemon  
Upon him took to be Palemon.  
While Advocats of both the Parties  
With earnest and with piercing heart eyes  
Expect his doom, like Nero praying  
For justice to his Fiddle playing.   

It's sport, quoth he, to be Spectators  
To such a pair of Gladiators:  
To see how they on other thump,  
He the Lay-elders, he the Rump,  
Others affront with such disgraces,  
And so throw dung on others faces.  
When thiefs reekon, it's ofttimes known  
That honest people get their own.  
By sad experience found it was, how  
That both these parties, pari passu  
Had ruin brought, and desolations  
On their own, and their neighbour's Nations:  
When one the other had overcome,  
And trod all under foot at home,  
Then they send out their wooden high-towers,  
To trouble the repose of Neighbours:  
And some times hither, some times thither,  
Set Europe by the ears together:  
That troubled with their mutual factions,  
They might not pry into their actions:  
Which were, as all the World doth ken,  
Abhorred both by God and men.  
Nought more secureth desperate matters,  
Then fishing doth in troubled waters.  
By such like policy and slight,  
They brought their power to such a height,  
That Denmark, Holland, France, and Spain,  
And Sweden did strive with might and main,  
With humble and submissive speeches,  
To get the first kiss of their Breeches.  
They brought upon all such a terror,  
All seemed to idolise their error,  
But thanks to God, and Albemarle,  
We now delivered are from peril.   

But none to thee, replied the Squire,  
(His breast so filled was with ire,  
That's eyes both sparkled and scintilled)  
Like Wolf, or Wild-cat, when it's killed.  
It's known thou didst what e'er thou could,  
(But yet not so much as thou would)  
To make us still under that peril  
which was removed by Albemarle.  
To prospering King loyal to wonder,  
Still traitor to him when at under.  
When thou, at playing with both hands,  
Has got Inheritance and Lands,  
Thou takes upon thee now to teach,  
And like a Fox, to Lambs doth Preach.  
That both of us did desolations  
And ruin bring upon the Nations,  
I answer, both did mischief bring,  
We by mistake, they by design:  
When all is true thou sayest, yet that's but  
Like Monkeys Chestnuts, with a Cat's foot  
Pulling from Ashes, or from Embers:  
Bathrons' for grief of scoarched members,  
Doth fall a suffing, and meawing,  
While Monkeys are the Chestnuts Chewing:  
Yet more by policy then force,  
They made our Brethren, Foot and Horse  
To pull them Chestnuts from the fire,  
And wealth and power to them acquire:  
By which they did all Europe toss,  
While we got infamy and loss.  
Though I should teeth beat, like a Tabor,  
With tongue, I fear I lose my labour.  
We by experience do find,  
That a proud stubborn froward mind  
With prejudice intoxicated,  
Can hardly be indoctrinated:  
And yet my labour's not misspent,  
If any be indifferent,  
They'll find, as Sun doth shine in clear day,  
That we were only Rogues by hear-say,  
But fools indeed, which we will mend  
When we grow wiser, there's an end.  
But now I strait will to the King,  
Discharge the Message which I bring:  
Perhaps his Majesty will grant,  
If well informed, what we want.  
However, I hope he will not fail  
To hear till I tell out my tale.  
Though others foam, and fret, and chaff,  
I hope his Majesty will saff.  
Having this spoke, his Horse he switches,  
First on the Snowt, then on the Breeches;  
Who half a sleep, at last was got  
With much difficulty to troth.  
Yet some times paused he in the middle,  
Like Cadance keepers to a Fiddle;  
With rest alternative, and motion,  
The Squire rides on with great devotion,  
Till he came to his journey's end,  
H'alights, and doth not long attend,  
When some there came, who did him bring  
Strait to the presence of the King;  
Whom he espying, bowed his knee,  
And said, if't please your Majesty.   

The sun indifferently on all shines,  
As well on low Shrubs, as on tall Pines:  
God hears the cry's of rich and poor:  
Wise Solomon, to right a Whore  
Resolved a doubt, to all men's wonder,  
Feigning to cleave the child asunder.  
Your Majesty's wisdom inherent,  
And goodness, who are God's Vicegerent,  
Will not disdain to hear complaints  
Of us, though but rejectaments.  
Ye'll hear me, Sir, defend our Cause,  
Though it be contrare to the Laws:  
That ye may solve that Gordian knot,  
If we be Rebels, and if not;  
If we be fools, wh'affirms we're neither,  
He is a liar, though my Father.  
I'll use no speech with Art besprinkled,  
Like Fairding on a face that's wrinkled:  
Without Rhetoricating fond shows,  
While I speak, Sir, as't in the ground grows,  
If ye a gracious ear afford,  
Shame fall me if I lie a word.   

Most men affirm, they do not see what  
We Non-Conformists now would be at:  
That we're more sundered in opinions,  
Then are the King of Spain's Dominions:  
Then gazers on the late new Star were,  
Then the Commanders at Dunbar were.  
Then Lawyers and Physicians Counsels,  
Then Wives who Kail and Herbs in Town sells;  
Canvasing things in Church and State,  
When drink has set aloft our Pate.  
Where once w'agree, three times we squabble,  
As doth a Bag-pipe's Base and Treble.  
One fears that which another hopes for,  
Like Cardinals, when they make Popes, or  
Like Heirs of Line, or Heirs of Tailzies,  
Or Gilled, or Tradesmen making Bailzies.  
Now whether these be rants and flaws,  
Devised, Sir, to defame our Cause;  
Or whether there be something in it,  
Hear out my Tale, now I begin it:  
If I conjecture not amiss,  
The marrow of the matter's this.   

Some while ago, Sir, I was sent  
Your Majesty to compliment,  
To beg some Preachers which we wanted,  
But ere I came, Sir, they were granted:  
When all expected thanks most hearty  
To you, from all the godly party;  
I was informed by a Letter,  
Were grown the Devil a whit the better.  
Our old blind zeal within us still bides,  
We haunt Conventicles on Hill-sides,  
Gives to our Preachers blows and knocks,  
For which we're put in Irons and Stocks.  
I wondered what the matter meant,  
I thought, Sir, that the Devil was in't,  
At length I was informed of new,  
The fault was only of a few;  
Not of us all, and these we ken  
Have ever been John Thomsons men,  
That is still ruled by their Wives,  
Who carping at some Preachers lives,  
And reading their erroneous Books,  
Oppugning Doctrine Orthodox:  
Cried out, Profanity and Atheism,  
Gross Popery and Arminianism  
Is brought upon us by the Prelates,  
With such expressions, those Shee-zealots  
Wrought so upon their Husband's fancy,  
That they from Fever fell to Frenzy,  
Threw at their Preachers Stones and Clods,  
As setters up of other Gods,  
As Baal, Beelzebub, and Dagon,  
The Apocalyptick Whore and Dragon.   

Though such proceedings be half treason,  
Yet to inform you there is reason:  
If any introduce the Schism  
Of Popery, or Arminianism.  
That Popes, Sir, are most dangerous things  
To Princes, Emperors, and Kings,  
They set their feet upon their neck,  
They make them, Sir, kneel down and beck,  
To hold their Syrup when they ride,  
And run like Lackeys at their side:  
They make them bow down mouth and nose,  
To kiss, and smell, their sweaty toes:  
Makes them stand barefoot at their Gates,  
And buy their peace at monstrous rates.  
They must have from them power all,  
Both spritual and temporal,  
Or they'll hunt men to cut their throats,  
And blow them up with Powder plots;  
As both your Grandfathers can tell,  
Yea, they will curse their souls to hell,  
And give their Kingdoms to another,  
Who pays most to their Bastard's Mother,  
It's long since for the Holy Ghost  
At Rome Olympias ruled the Roast:  
Who think the practice far more sweeter  
Of Simon Magus, than Simon Peter.  
That I speak truth, Sir, within measure,  
Appears by Don ' Olympias Treasure,  
The next Successor of St. Peter  
Thought he could take a course no fitter,  
Then part the Simoniack pelf,  
And take the one half to himself.  
Then said one, though a Conclave Brother,  
It went from one Thief to another.   

Strange! any Orthodox Divine  
Should doubt who is the Man of Sin?  
Which questionless they had not done,  
If they had read on Paul and John,  
Who paints him in their Prophecies,  
As they had seen him with their eyes.  
What e'er Divine of your Dominions  
Vents to the world such opinions,  
Let them be Gold, let them be Glass,  
A Serpent lurks within the Grass.  
It's thought the Earl of Wiltshire's Spaniel  
Knew Antichrist, foretold by Daniel,  
And Paul and John, better than they  
Who study Scripture every day.  
When that the Pope held out his foot  
For to be kissed round about,  
Wondering to see the Carl so vain,  
He snatched it till he pissed again.  
This much of those erroneous Books,  
Oppugning Doctrine Orthodox.   

Next, Sir, as for those Preachers lives,  
So much cried out on by our Wives,  
All the account that I can give on't  
Is, that my Minnie hath the lave on't.  
I wish them keep a sober diet,  
Or, if they drink, Sir, keep it quiet:  
If openly they haunt the Brewers,  
We'll not secure them from stone-throwers▪  
We cannot help it for our life,  
Sir, who can rule a Lawless Wife?  
To make a wilful Wife her fits mend,  
Would put yourself, Sir, to your wit's end.  
Though they cause whip them through the Town,  
Though they them hang, though they them drown,  
Seing Priests drunk at third Bell ringing,  
They'll up with stones, and fall a slinging.   

And thus, Sir, I have showed you how  
The fault is only of a few,  
And not of all, and their defence  
Is, that they follow Conscience:  
If it be so, by Bishops leaves,  
They cannot well be called knaves:  
What e'er they be, it may be said,  
Knaves never yet a Conscience had.  
And that a greater slander refels,  
If they be no knayes, they're no rebels:  
I doubt any Logician can  
A rebel prove an honest man.  
What are they then? we need n'advise,  
They're poor folks, large as daft as wise.  
If they be such, and wish you well,  
As others of their actions tell,  
When in the English Troupers faces  
They you remembered in their Graces.  
That there may be a solid peace,  
Remove the cause, th'effect will cease.  
Take notice of those whimsy Books,  
Which in effect are heterodox.  
If once those Preachers mend their lives,  
There will be no Stone-throwing Wives.  
Forbid them scandalise the lieges,  
By drinking healths to Ports and Bridges,  
To: Whore of Babel, and to Giggs,  
And to preveen complaints of whigs,  
To scratch their skin, cut Caps and clothes,  
And swear 'twas whigs, with monstrous oaths  
But see misfortune and mishap,  
For scratch of Skin, and cut of Cap  
Examined to strictest rigours,  
Had different Geometric Figures.  
Though Cap was hither moved and thither,  
The wounds could ne'er agree together.  
Such scandal makes the Gospel stink,  
Such Books and Priests removed, I think  
We'll keep the nine and twenty May-day,  
On Thursday, Saturnday, or Friday;  
On Tuesday, Wednesday, and Monday,  
Or any other day but Sunday.  
Yea, Sir, when ye have aught ado,  
To hazard lives and fortunes too.  
We will be ready at your call,  
Else plague of God upon us all.   

Observing how they all espied him,  
Chiefly how all the Ladies eyed him;  
Was none among them all so coy,  
Whom he had not made laugh for joy:  
Believing, of them all was scarce one  
That honoured not his parts and person.  
He ear begins to prick, and neigh too,  
Just like a Stoned Horse in a Meadow:  
Yet curbing, as he could, his passion,  
Till he should better learn the fashion:  
He made a Congee, and got him down,  
To see the rar'ties of the Town.   

How he did visit Bedlam fool-men,  
And disputed with Gresham-School-men;  
Discoursing of their Pigs and Whistles,  
And strange experiments of Musscls,  
Of Resurections of Rats,  
And of the Language used by Cats,  
When in the night they go a Cating,  
And fall a scolding and a prating:  
Of their blood borrowing and lending,  
And all the Ancients wisdom mending;  
Perhaps ye'll hear another time,  
When I want Money and get Rhyme.  
I have no leisure for it now.  
Let it suffice, to tell you how,  
That going home-wards near to Highgate,  
His Muse had on her such a gay foot,  
That seeing London flee his view,  
He stands, and bids it thus, Adieu.   

From hard Calamities of Wars,  
and ruins caused by fire,  
A noble work thou dost arise,  
like Phoenix fromit's Sire.  
How stately Buildings thee adorn.  
and Towers which smite the Sky,  
Whose Bells do, by their melody,  
Apollo's Harp outvie.  
More famous, skilful Artisans,  
the world never had:  
Thy Merchands worth Nobilitates,  
the wealth he gets by Trade.  
Thy Bishop's zeal and Piety up through the Heavens do flee;  
Thy Magistrates, who thee govern, might Roman Consuls be.  
Immortal virtue's eloquence, and deep insight of mind;  
Thy Muses, those of Pallas Town are not a jot behind.  
And as the Sun, unto the world communicats his light;  
So by thy King's resplendent beams, brave Town, thou shines so bright.  
So Rome arose, after the Gauls had it destroyed by flame.  
Till in the end, the world's bounds and Rome's, did prove the same.  
London, that path by the begun, if thou insist upon,  
Strange, if the World's Empire and thine in end prove not the same.  
But now, thy buildings flee my sight, thy Towers go out of view,  
Ibid thee then, with weeping eyes, most generous Town, Adieu.   

The same in Latin.  
Post diras belli clades, flammaeque ruinas,  
e cinere ut Phoenix nobile surgis opus.  
Quam dicorant Aedes, ferientes sidere turres;  
pulsibus adjecta cessit Apollo lyra:  
Artifices clari majore & acumine nusquam,  
mercator meritis nobilitavit opes;  
Praesulis insignis piet as perfregit Olympum;  
Consulibus potuit Roma vetusta Regi;  
Morihus eloquio, mentisque indagine musis:  
attica non major docta Camaena tuis:  
Ut Phaebus mundum perfundit lumine Regis  
sic splendes radiis Urbs generosa tui.  
Gallica sic crevit post dira incendia Roma  
tandem idem limes orbis et urbis erat▪  
Londinum incepto sipergas tramite mirum!  
imperium fuerit ni orbis & urbis idem.  
Nunc Aedes visum fugiunt, subsidere turres  
aspicio lacrimans; urbs generosa, Vale.   
FINIS.