AN HUE and CRY After R▪ L s▪  
O Yes! O Yes! O Yes! If there be any Man in Town or Country, or among the Cits and Bumkins, That can give Notice what is become of a certain English Monsieur, with a certain French Name, who hath absconded himself after all his great Bravadoes, and fled from Justice, fearing to become a Popish Martyr; let him inform one H. B. who very much misses him, and he shall be well rewarded for his pains. But that it may be very well thought he now lies lurking in Masquerade, we will endeavour to give you some certain Marks that you may know him by. He is first, a man of Blood, and not the Son of the People, for so he tells the Parliament in his Appeal, a little before his last adieu to this Word, preparing himself for a better, so that you might suppose he was just gone into his Closet to Hang himself; but this is but one of his Slippery Tricks to make the World believe what he never intends: For if you should go into his Closer, thinking to find him there, fairly Hanging like a Jack a Lent, you will be deceived, but there perhaps you may find Halters enough to do it for him, made out of his own Papers, twisted together with Sedition, Conspiracy, and some seeming Threads of Loyalty, which he picks forth on all occasions, and reprints as sufficient Proofs and Remarks of his great Integrity, Innocency and Fidelity to the Protestant Religion, after he has abused the Professors of it all he can. But, for all his Blood, they say, he is the spawn of the Devil, begot upon the Whore of Babylon, and though he hides his Monstrous shape in several fine Dresses, he may be known by his stinking Breath and Cloven Foot. He has several disguises and shapes into which he puts himself, a mere Proteus to elude the People, a juggling State Hocus Pocus, an Omne quare, a Chameleon that can live on the Air of Loyalty, and not feed on the delicious bit of a Thousand pounds when proffered him. He is a strange Beast and Monster, That has been as troublesome to London, as ever Sphinx was to Thebes, and there wants an Oedipus to unriddle him. You must not believe his fine Words, Papers and Books, for he can juggle you out of your senses, and make you believe 'tis Day when 'tis Night. He is a great Orator, and writes in a brief Laconic Style, he is excellent at similes, and knows all the Tropes and Figures of Rhetoric. He is a great Scho'ar, being taught by his Father, and is so used to Writing and Scribbling, that he can make a Book in his sleep: But he has writ of so many various subjects, that 'twill be hard to know him by his Pen, for he is not the same, not writes the same things, nor wears the same face in 80, he did in 50 and 51. He sometimes puts on the shape of an Angel of Loyalty, and the very Genius itself of the Church of England: and will tell you on his Salvation That he never was at Mass since 61, though there are some that will swear the contrary. But if you doubt of him, Tell him he is a Papist in Masquerade, or at least Popishly inclined, and he will be very angry, and go near to spit in your face; if you suspect him, be sure you look in his month, for he hath a Venomous Tongue, and his Chaps are all black and foul, within his Breath stinks horribly, and he hath sore biting Fangs; he usually carries about him a Cat of Nine Tails, wherewith he claws off all those that seek to discover him: He has also most commonly his chief Instrument of Sedition in his hand, his Pen, which now upon this Flight is perhaps put just behind his Ear, or else you'll find it in his Pocket, till he has another fit Opportunity to make use of it; with that Instrument he has performed more Deeds of Chivalry than ever did the Invincible Don Quixot, and rather than he will want work, he will fight with his own shadow, and assault Wind-mills of his own Creating, you may make some Discovery of him by his good qualities. He is a two Names together by the Ears, he can make the Right hand beat the Left, and the Left the Right; he can do many other Tricks of Legerdemain, and cunningly cast a Mist before your Eyes, and when he Jeers and Laughs you to Scorn, will make you think that he is very Civil to you, Courteous and Kind. He is also a very good Painter, he can draw his Enemies beyond the Life, he knows and hits the very motions of their Noses and Mouths, tells you all their natural Defects, and sets them forth so plainly, that you may know them when you meet 'em, though you never saw 'em before. He has many bold strokes, for he can draw Landscapes of States, Kingdoms, Religions, Transactions, and the whole History of our late times in Skeldry, and make them speak too.  
He is also a noted Fiddler, for he is always playing on the Strings of the State, which he screws up to a great height, and would stretch bey●●d the G●m●t; he is the Pied-Piper of London who would fain have all the Knaves and ●ools to Dance after him, that he might lead them by the Nose to think he makes Loyal Harmony; He has the Voice of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which deceives many an honest man, and makes him leave the Ship of safety, and fall headlong and blindfold into the Sea of Danger and Calamity and Jesuitical Conspiracy. He has also Circean Arts, and can turn any Body into what shape he pleases, the whole Body of Presbyterians into Mon●●ers, the Plot into sham's, and Ridicule, the Loyal to a Fanatic, the Jesuit to a Saint, petitions to Rebellion, Liberty to Tyranny, and all Writings against him into Libels. It is very ●●…e you will find him with his Appeal in his Pocket, and a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 his Mouth; for he is seldom without one; he Chews it like T●b●cco you must not believe what he says, for he is an apt Scholar, and has ●earn'd fast and Lose of the Jesuits: He has very piercing Eyes and can see through all the Disguises of the Presbyterians, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 out their Sham-Pots and Fanatical Designs: they are very 〈◊〉 ●●ticks, for the ●ation to see by, which show things that 〈◊〉 were, and make of a Molehill a Mountain. He makes use of 〈◊〉 of Jesuitical Spectacles, which he always carries about him that ●●●es him see Wood for Trees, and all that will not be inclined to ●opery, to be dangerous, seditious and conspiring Persons: They als●●●present many Loyal Persons to be Commonwealthsmen, and whoever looks through them will think they see three Kingdoms Converted into a Balloting-Box, you may know him by his talking with himself, he is most Excellent at Dialoguing, a right Fencer at Pro and ●on; He puts Cases most dexterously, and most commonly the wrong side out: You I find him among, the Factious and as busy as the best, he must be employed some way or other. Hold him fast if you take him, for he is apt to elude Honesty and good-meaning, nothing can bind this P●ote●● but the Parliament, their Wisdom only can find out his Disguised Shapes, take them off and show him in his true Figure: 'Tis their Justice he fears, or else he would never seek to evade it, and for all his Litteral Justifications, this slip out of the way, argues his Gild, and that he cannot stand the Test.  
The Crack-fart of the Nation's fled,  
Who had so many Magotts bread;  
He saw it was not safe to stay,  
But wiser far to run away.  
A long time he had made a Noise,  
Roaring aloud with Thundering Voice,  
Making a fume and stinking scent,  
Not Dreaming of a Parliament,  
Before that he away did steal,  
He wisely puts forth his Appeal;  
And like a very Crafty Elf,  
Would have you think he'd hanged himself:  
But that his turn will never serve,  
He may have what he does deserve:  
For most that knew him still did think,  
He would at last go out in stink,  
Tho' he had got a curious Art,  
And could with skill perfume a Fart:  
Which he would hold unto your Nose,  
And make you think it was a Rose.  
These to H. B. the Crack-fart sold,  
Bartering with him Farts for Gold,  
Of which a gain, for 'twas his Trade,  
He profit and good Money made.  
But Crack-fart now has left his Sation,  
And can no more perfume the Nation.  
For it seems the Parliament,  
Does no ways like or love the Scent.  
And all his Cracks disguised by Arts,  
Prove stinking, tho' perfumed Farts.  
FINIS.   

Printed for Tom. Telltruth.