A NEW PLOT, OR THE WHIG and TORY United Being a DIALOGUE Between Titus Oats and Saxon the Perjured Evidence. Oates Well, met Dear Friend, I joy to see The Consort of my misery. Saxon, I humbly deign to ask your Name, (And beg you would excuse the same.) Oats, Is't possible you should not know; Can I be thus concealed from you? Saxon, Oh! now I recollect my thoughts, You are I think— Oates, Doctor Oates. Oats, The very same, I'm even he, A near Relation unto thee. Saxon, Avast! Cursed Traitor, is it you, The Author of the Nations Woe; Stand off Vile Scarecrow, for I Swear, Thy very Breath Corrupts the Air. Oats, Pray calm your Passion, 'tis unmeet, That you should be so indiscreet. Saxon, Base Villain cease, thou'rt Perjured o'er, Ten Thousand times twice told and more; Thou wretched Scoundrel, thou art he, Has forced this heavy Yoke on me, 'Twas you Coined Traitors at your pleasure, Whose fostered Lies (beyond all measure) Procured you Credit, brought you Gain, Made you the Idol of the Train: Of all the Factious Rout, that Crew, By numerous Bribes did buoy up you: You swore Estates and Lives away, And thus by swearing won the day. Five at a clap, thou Monstrous Elf (When you deserved it more yourself,) Were Doomed unto the Fatal Tree, By such an Hellish Rogue as thee. I will not mention any more, You know for what, and whom you swore, And how you're perjured o'er and o'er. Oats, Rave on, you will have done at last, But yet, methinks you run too fast. Saxon, 'Tis but an Amble to the speed That you have made in time of need, When in a trice you crossed the Seas, Were here or there, or how you please: Consider but what you have done, How you aspersed the King and Crown; The Queen, the Peers, and all Degree Of most unshaken Loyalty. Cease cruel Fury, Hell ne'er knew, The half the Plagues and Crimes which you Have perpetrated, you full well Have amplified the Gates of Hell: Taught me the way to my Damnation, Unless I find Commiseration. Oats, Sum up thy Reason, for I fear, Thou lt fall into some mad despair. Recrute thy Spirits, ease thy Breath, There's no Damnation after Death; Wait but a little, and you'll see, The Scene will metamorphized be. Saxon, The change I fear will yet be worse, I next must stride the three Legged Horse. Ah me! unhappy and forlorn, The Ridicule and public scorn of all the World, might I but have My Wish, I'd supplicate a Grave. Oats, Avert these omens, reassume A Courage that will more become The Grandeur of thy quondam mien, And all these trifling Follies Screen; 'Tis all the same, he equal shares, That's only in, or up to th' Ears. Saxon, I Grieve and Sigh for what I've done, And wouldst thou yet have me sin on Against the Sacred Deities, Hell spews at such like Crimes as these, I'll rather bare all Miseries. Oats, thou'rt either mad, or not the same, That's trumpeted to me by Fame; I've heard that thou, even thou alone, Couldst turn the World quite up-side down, That Armed by such stable Buff, Thy Courage was full Cannon Proof. Saxon, Time was, I could have out-braud all The Fiends of Hell, the Deel would craul To pay me Homage with submission, But now I've altered my Condition; The Furies awe me, and I swear, I'm tortured with intestine fear. Oats, Banish that fear, good Fate Henceforth be thy Associate; Learn but of me, I glory in, The termed Commission of a Sin; 'Tis my content in what is evil, I vie and brave the very Devil: Mischief's my sweetest and best repose, In which I've triumphed o'er my Foes. Sax. Doctor I'm yours, 've won my heart, I'm now resolved to make 'em smart; Revenge is sweet, I now will doom, My Pity and Compassion down, Into the most devouring Tomb, Tho' I at length like Samson die, A Victim with my Enemy. Oats, Brave and Heroic Soul, I swear Thy last Resolves most Noble are, In which if thou wilt but persever, I'll be thy nimble Trout for ever. Saxon, Grave Doctor, to begin the Section, I now submit to your Direction; Make me your Engine, and I'll play, The Deel himself to win the Day. Oats, Persist kind Friend I'll lead the van, And give you all th' advice I can; I'll Conjure Tony's Ghost and try By an unerring Policy, To play my Cards Clubs must be Trumpets, Hie for the Giblins and the Rumps. Saxon, Propose the Methods I must use, I now can play at Fast and Lose; Propose but what, and where and how, I'm all Obedience at your bow. Oats, Without delay I thus begin, You first must triumph over Sin; 'Tis but a Cipher, Naught and Naught, Will give no Number I am taught, In order unto which first you, Must disengage your cruel Foe; Take off the Cause th' Effect will follow, No want of means, the Gib or Gallow Do always groan whilst unmanured, By such which Fate has them insured: If this wont do then tack about, Reverse your Steps they'll lead you out There's other measures may be made, A Poison, Strangle, or a Stab. If those should fail, observe these Notes, There's Drowning, Burning, Cutting Throats. Here lies the pinch, you must provide Always against the turn o'th' Tide: Should ' your Intrigues be brought to light, You must observe your Cards aright; When e'er your Cause does go to wrack, Then lay it on your Sumpters Back; Which when 've done, forthwith you must, Be sure to cry out Murder first, Stop thief, stop thief, or else the Traitor, Then swear 'twas he, you know his feature: Prepare your Vouchers, have good store, Then swear it home, swear't o'er and o'er. 'Tis this will purchase Reputation Honour, Wealth, and Admiration, And style you Saviour of the Nation. This made me great, 'twas this alone, Made me long triumph over ROME, And Honoured throughout Christiandom▪ I'm now eclipsed I can't deny Your Fate and Mine run equally Witness the groaning Pillory. Yet shall I rise to that degree, That none shall dare to envy me, So great will be my Liberty. And you my Friend shall win Renown, Beyond the Bubbles of a Crown. Saxon, Cease worthy Sir, I ask no more May I but have that blessed store, Oats, With Duplications, o'er, and o'er. This may be Printed, R.P. March the 9th. 1686. London; Printed for. D. Mallet, at the Sign of the Black-Ball, near Bridewell-Bridge. 1686.