Trincalo Sainted; OR THE EXALTATION Of the Jesuits Implement, and Printer General, The NOTORIOUS Nathaniel Thomson, On this present 5th of July, 1682.  
The day of his being Registered among the Popish Saints, for his Meritoriòus Libel, Concerning the Murder of Sir EBB. G. and Magnificently and Numerously attended, to his Enthroning in the Pillory, for that purpose Erected in the Palace-yard in Westminster, for the Encouragement of Towzer and Heraclitus, to proceed till they obtain the like Exaltment.  
WHO would ever have believed, once upon a time, that this poor Printer Nat. Thomson, that, went up and down Town to beg Work to Buy his Manks Lady Porridg, should grow to that Pride, Riches, Impudence, and Lying, as to arrive at this Exaltation to the Pillory, and to become a Popish Saint in the rank of St. Celliers, his great Patroness and Example: But alas! who knows his Fortune, to day a Villain, to morrow a Saint. I find it was beyond the Capacity of Gadbury, himself to find out this man's Fortune, whose three penny Stars neur foreshowed so great Preferment. But what Achievements has this Hector performed for the Cause! How bravely has he behaved himself forth with might and main to gain this Exaltation! This is he who has privately Printed whole Cart-Loads of Popish Mass-Books, and other prohibited Papistical Doctrines, spreading them to impoyson the Nation. This is he who privately Printed the Appeal, and other pernicious Libels against the Government. This is he who publicly Printed innumerable Scurrilous Songs and Ballads, lewd and Scandalous Libels against many persons of great Quality and known Loyalty, daily spawning them to abuse the Loyal Subjects, to corrupt the Ignorant, and to encourage the Mischievous. This is Trincalo the Jackcal to Towzer, who used to lead the way like a Triple in his Loyal Intelligence, whilst Towzer with a full mouthed Base, in his Observations hunted the Protestant Puss, to make the Papists sport, and to show the Tories game. This is the Loyal lying Knight of the Post, who is now exalted to be the Knight of the Wooden Ruff, which he had long since deserved. But of all those petty Atchivements, of Lying Intelligences, Appeals, abusive Songs, false Advertisements, Popish Ballads, Treasonable Pamphlets, Jesuitical Catachisms, and such like, of which the single Eyed Observator took no notice at all, nothing was so meritorious to him as to gain him this Preferment of Saint and Pillory Martyr, as his notorious Letters to Mr. Miles Prance, to prove Sir EBB. G. selo de se: wherein He, and his two Secretaries Pain and Farwell, most Impudently, Scandallously, and Maliciously, by Jesuitical and Diabolical Instigation, endeavoured to wrong the pious memory of the Dead, and to Scandalise and Impeach the Justice of the Nation, to bespatter and make Perjured the King's Evidence, and to render the Protestants of this Kingdom ridiculous to all Nations; to disannul and overthrow the belief of any Popish Plot, (the main end and design) against so many Royal Proclamations, so many Declarations and Votes of several Parliaments, and against the mind, acknowledgement, and belief of so many Ministers of State and Justice concerned in the proof of it; this is the high and meritorious Act, that has got our famous Impudent, Brazen-forheaded Printer a Name, and brought him to his deserved Preferment. Alas! He that burned the famous Temple of Diana at Ephesus to get him a Name, was a Fool to this man: who has made himself famous or rather infamous to all posterity, and got Money and Saintship to Boot. But what did this bold not think, and those who set him on work, to affront and arraign Justice, to have thus brought the Lives of several Persons in danger, to have made the Popish Plot an Invention, and those who suffered for it Innocent, after such undeniable proofs against them? I say, did they think or believe that the Eyes of Justice had been out? and that the whole Nation were blind, that they should so much as hope to carry on this so unlikely project? The God of this World had hoodwinked this Barking Trincalo: He could see nothing but Mammon, and the Golden shower that fell into his Pockets, and the Devil had taken away his Reason, and the understanding of his Masters, who had set him on work. Perhaps he thought he could not go amiss under the tuition of the Guide to the suferior Clergy; and that having escaped so many horrid Villainies, he durst now attempt the greatest that ever was known, arming himself like the Giants of Old, and assaulting Heaven itself. But the Devil and the Observator have forsaken him at last, left him to the mercy of a City Jury, and to the just punishment of the Law. Alas! he thought they were all Ignoramusses, and that they knew not how to write Billa vera; but it seems he was mistaken. But is mighty Nat's Boastings, to prove that Sir E. B. G. murdered himself by Sixty Witnesses come to this, that those very men he brought should be Evidence against him, and should openly confess, that they believed in their Consciences, that he was traitorously murdered, first strangled, and then run through? Thus they who lay a Snare, and dig a Pit for others fall into it themselves. Are the great Designs of the Papistical Tories dwindled away to nothing? Is the mighty and impudent Champion laid on his back? But you are deceived, he still keeps his face of Brass; and tho' convict of horrid Crimes, he openly and impudently avows, he had done nothing for which he should be ashamed to show his Face. Oh brave not! Oh unparallelled Impudence! now the World will see that shameless Face, that graceless Visage, looking thorough a wooden Porthole, with an Helmet on its Head, to stand the Tempest of Turnips, Apples, and rotten Eggs. The Day of this Exaltation has been long looked for, and it is come at last. What will they now do for another Printer, to Midwife the Popish treasonable Brats into the World? How disappointed will the undermining Jesuits be for the want of their Implement, to infect the silly Vulgar with their wicked Pamphlets? What Lamentation and hanging down the Head will there be among the Fraternity in Newgate, and elsewhere? How will Dame Celliers rejoice to have a Fellow Saint, that has bravely withstood the Battery of Dirt and Stones for the Cause, and arrived to the Honour of the Calendar? But what will his Friend and Crony the Observator say, and observe upon all this? Does not he think his Turn may come, and that he may arrive at last through his great pains to the like Exaltation. Well, impudent Nat. thou hast obtained thy long merited Glory, and now thou wilt be most justly rewarded with the Order of the Wooden Ruff, and with the Honour of being a Popish Saint and Sufferer. This may comfort thy Heart, and the Cockles of thy Bawling Spouse, who having printed many a Ditty, cannot but be well pleased at her Lord's Exaltation; and to encourage thee, and in honour of the Holiday of thy Exaltation, suppose some Popish Dogeril Poet has taken the pains to write a Stanza or two for thy Dame, she with her wide Throat and old croaking Voice, sings thus to her Beloved Nat   

The Knight of the Wooden Ruffs Exaltation,  
Sung to a delicate Tory Tune, by the Manks Lady his Wife.  

1.  
COme stand to thy Tackle Nat,  
Let thy bonny sweet Face be seen,  
I scorn to lend thee an Hat  
Thy Brazen Face to screen.   

2.  
Thou needest not an Iron Cap,  
To keep off Stone or Dirt,  
For tho' they should give thee a Rap,  
Thy Horns will keep thee from Hurt.   

3.  
Then hold forth thy impudent Face:  
For't must be a delicate Sight,  
To see't peep through a Wooden Case:  
For now thou art dubbed a Knight.   

4.  
Unless hung at the Triple Tree  
What could we wish for more?  
A Lady I now shall be,  
Whatever I was before.   

5.  
A Villain I have thee known,  
Such as Pen could scarcely paint;  
But now my dear Nat is grown  
On a sudden a damnable Saint.   

6.  
Hold forth then thy graceless Snout,  
Which never had yet Shame in't,  
And lest of it any should doubt,  
Thou hast told the World so in Print.   

7.  
Now thou art exalted high,  
The Whigs, tho' below, thee do see;  
Then like a true Tory Cry,  
Now hay Boys up go we.   

8.  
Who serves Jesuit, Priest or Pope,  
Shall thus advanced be  
With Pillory, Whip, or Rope,  
Thus hay Boys up go we.    

London, Printed for J. B. 1682.