CRAFTY CROMWELL:  
OR, OLIVER ordering our New State.  
A Tragicomey.  
Wherein is discovered the Traitorous undertake and proceed of the said NOL, and his Levelling Crew.  
Written by MERCURIUS MELANCHOLICUS.  
Shall Cromwell not be famous made Unto the aftertimes, Who durst a THRONE for to invade, And Act the worst of Crimes?  
Shall not his Nose DOMINICAL, In Verse be celebrated?  
Shall famous HARRY MARTIN fall, And not be nominated?  
Shall PRIDE the Drayman, JOICE the Tailor, And all the Holy Crew;  
With HAMMOND, now K. CHARLES his Jailor, And STAINS, that Holy Jew, Be read hereafter? (sure they shall) And if my Muse give aid, This shall be their Memorial, THESE ROGUES THEIR KING BETRAYED.  
Printed in the Year, 1648.   

The PROLOGUE.  
AN Ordinance from our pretended State,  
Sows up the Player's mouths, they must not prate  
Like Parrots what they're taught upon the Stage,  
Yet we may Print the Errors of the Age:  
All their projections cannot hinder so,  
But if we writ, the Presses needs must go,  
That, that alone, heals our dejected Sense,  
We can divulge our penned Intelligence:  
Slight is our vein, not Clio's aid we crave,  
If THALIA smile, we our sole wishes have:  
Smooth PLAUTUS, ARISTOPHANES his vein  
We now affect, not SOPHOCLES high strain:  
Yet thus we differ, they for mirth were fixed,  
But we have Joy and Dolour, both commixed.  Exit.  

Dramatis Personae.  

CROMWELL.  
Two CITIZENS.  
The Ghost of PIMME.  
Colonel HAMMOND, his Majesty's Jailor.  
HARRY MARTIN.  
PRIDE.  
STAINES.  
CHORUS.  
Two SOLDIERS.  
A SERVANT.  
MUTES.    

To the Enslaved Commons of ENGLAND.  
DEluded Vulgar, don't you yet perceive  
How you are doomed to die without reprieve,  
Fallen from your Zenith, and in lieu of light,  
Involoped with fumes of cloudy night?  
No end of Taxes, and Excises, none,  
How to get money, still is thought upon,  
All things ingross'd, and your State Lurdanes are  
So greedy, they will shortly Tax the Air.  
True Patriots suppressed, and only they  
Advanced to Offices, who have the way  
To grind the Land, and cut the poor man's throat,  
To Level, and leave no man worth a groat.  
Harpeis' o'the Common wealth, who prey on all,  
Without distinction, most Tyrannical  
Are your Trrustees, their House a sink of sin,  
He's cursed, touches the threshold entering in,  
(Inevitably Damned) Treason, and Guile,  
Lust, Fury, Schism, with all mischiefs vile,  
There keep their Court, and dandled on the knees  
Of your Apostate treacherous trusties,  
Who were in knavery Freshmen, coming there,  
Shall proceed Learned Graduates in one year.  
Plato framed a Republic, and it cost  
Tully much labour to write what is lost;  
A Commonwealth wise Aristotle framed  
His last, before their first for to be named,  
" But all conclude, that Government is best,  
" Where one sole Monarch governs all the rest▪  
Which you have by experience found most true,  
And for your fickle novel wishes rue;  
And truth to say, one may attempt as soon  
" To cut and shape a garment for the Moon,  
" Now crescent, now in the full, now i'the wain,  
" As satisfy your greedy foolish brain.  
At first you doted on this Parliament,  
With Clubs and Staves for their protection went,  
The while the Seamen man'd their lazy Hulks,  
Who at the Privy Stairs disgorged their Bulks:  
How bountifully brought you in your store  
Of Coin into Guildhall; yea, ventured more  
Than was required? how did you rudely cry,  
T'have Reverend Laud, and Learned Strafford die?  
The Bishops must not sit, those pious▪ Rites,  
Which your forefathers honoured, with all spite  
Kicked into nothing: but what availed your ire?  
But brought the alldevouring Sword and Fire,  
The los●e of all your Liberties, your King  
To be unto all Lands a wondering:  
No marvel Aventinus dares report,  
" The Roman Germane Emperor kept a Court  
" Where Kings are Subjects, none but Coxcombs be  
" Vassals to the French King, 'cause willingly  
" They be are such burdens, the Hesperian Lords  
" Do govern men, whose Loyalty affords  
" Them ample aid: a very King of Devils  
" Is England's KING, by reason of the evils  
" Against their Kings, done by the Subject's hands,  
" Rebellions, Dispositions, Murders, Bands.  
But let the world know, Kings when once instated  
Are Gods on Earth, by Heaven Consecrated;  
Precious in the sight of God, and that base elf  
Whom them resists, resists even Gods himself:  
Shimei may bark, Achitophel counsel give,  
But how long after did those Traitors thrive?  
And those who have made Charles a Prisoner,  
Would coop up Jove himself did they but dare.  
But you Plebeians, now have found your error,  
Now those that were your Darlings are your terror.  
Why sit you still, like men infatuated,  
And see your Kingdom 'fore your eyes translated?  
In you it lies, to reinthrone your King,  
To right your God, your wholesome Laws to bring  
Back to their pristine use: if you would sever  
Yourselves from sorrow, strike then now or never▪  
The Deplorer of your miseries and stupidity, MERCURIUS MELANCHOLICUS.   

Crafty CROMWELL: A Tragicomey.  

Actus Primus.  Enter two CITIZENS▪ 1 Citizen. 
ARe you for the Exchange?  2 Cit 
Yes: I have appointed a Vonetian Merchant to meet him there.  1 Cit 
What News is stirring?  2 Cit 
None, but what Fame speaks i'the nose by the Lyurnall, and the rest o'the Gazettes.  1 Cit 
And what speak they?  2 Cit 
Why, that you and I, and all must be undone by our Machavilians, they will not yet accept their Sovereign's proffer, nor hearken unto any name of Peace, ' less that he take his Crown from off his head and place it at their feet; and this they term the Subjects Liberty, and privilege of Parliament.  1 Cit 
The name of Liberty hath ever been the watchword used before Rebellion▪ the idle echo of uncertainty, that in all Ages ever hath abused the credulous multitude; but I in troth sometimes am overcome even with pity, when I cogitate the dire events will follow these base Actions, how giddily our Statesmen hurry on without fear or wit, proposing this and this they will have done, though thereby they infringe all Covenants▪ and violate all Law; the King hath proffered that, which six years since they durst not hope to have, and though some of their Party boasting, say, 'twas fear constrained him to it; first let them know the Maxim is most true, That good from Kings must not be drawn by force; yet this his gracious proffer, freely came from an heart truly sorry for those Ill, that lately sell, and do even now lie heavy on his oppressed people.  2 Cit 
But this the Sophies dare not to believe, 'tis mischief makes them fat; like Theseus, they are in a Labyrinth, but destitute of Ariadne's Clew: they know the ills they have already done cannot be purged with sacrifice; no, though they offered Hecatombs of Beefs, and therefore they resolve to expiate their lesser Crimes with greater, one poison must expel another; thus while they practise Paracelsian-like, and staunch our bleeding wounds with Gunpowder,  

The Body Politic with weakness reels,  
And proud Dissension trips up Concord's heels.   1 Cit 
And will this City evermore be fooled, until her Batlements do Kisle the earth?  2 Cit 

Our Mayor and Council construe so the Laws,  
They still agree to that's the strongest Cause;  
Like Snails they hid their heads these hideous storms,  
And dare not once for to thrust forth then Horns.   
Should this be told unto the aftertimes, how would it dim the glory of this City?  1 Cit 
Alas great Charles, how is thy Sword's edge dulled by those that did pretend to surbush it? O horrid change, able to strike him deaf that hears it named? Sufficient to cleave the marble Tombs of mighty Edward and great Henry, and make their Ashes stir with lively heat, and starting forth from their cold Monuments, dog our Rebellious Grandees up and down, frighting them to obedience.  2 Cit 
Too true it is the Tyrant Dionysius caused to be drawn the Image of a King▪ when Damocles was placed in his throne, over whose head a threatening Sword was hanged, fastened up only by an horse's hair, to show the winding-paths that Fortune treads, how she can make even Kings to know her power.  1 Cit 
But yet the Heavens strong arms do compass Kings; an host of Angels guards the Royal Throne; witness our Royal Charles, who now bereaved of strength and outward power, like to a Castle that's impregnable, whose basis touch the Centre of the Earth, repels the surious shock and fierce assault of his malevolent treacherous Parliament, who puffed up with their fortunate success, disdain for to comply.  2 Cit 
The happy Issue of Conspiracy makes Treason sacred, and Rebellion holy, they cheer themselves with thought of their great Victories, but they remember not how dear they cost, how many widows lost their loved husbands, and children their kind parents, the chance of War they say hath made them Kings, and they resolve to sway.  1 Cit 
They would (no doubt) had they their wish, but there's a clog hangs heavy on their heels, the supreme Council of King Oliver doth emulate their greatness; there is a pack of Ravens, which if they be debarred of their prey, most sure will pick their eyes out.  2 Cit 
To stop their clamours, and to buy their favours, they Vote them what they ask, for you must think, 'twere simple policy, the heard of Wolves should jar, Lions so near; and therefore they have sent unto the City with all speed for to levy their Arrears.  1 Cit 
O foolish Cuckolds, that will suffer thus their noses to be bored▪ Fond men, they long have seen the Devil in Crystal, been cheated with fair words, how treasons takes its turns▪ The City first stirred up the men at Westminster to raise a Traitorous War, they backed the City with a name of Power, and now those men whom their Rebellion raised, hang like to Meteors over their cursed heads, threatening new War and vengeance, just guerdon of their cursed Treachery.  2 Cit 

He that resisteth his dread Sovereign Lord,  
Doth damn his soul by Gods own very Word,  
A Christian Subject should with honour due,  
Obey his Sovereign though he were a Jew:  
And be assured when Subjects do Rebel,  
God's wrath is kindled threatening fire of Hell.   1 Cit 
'Tis almost Change-time▪ let's away.  Exeunt. Enter CHORUS. 

Those that in Blood a pleasure have,  
Descend still bleeding to their Grave;  
Men know not what themselves will be,  
When as more than themselves they see:  
Lust reigning Murder follows fast,  
As Leaves before the Winter's blast:  
Desire of Rule, 'twas that which made  
Our trusties false, our lives betrayed.  
Thus the World goes its common course,  
From good to bad, from bad to worse,  
From worse to that is worst of all,  
And then into its former fall  
With Victory, Revenge should cease,  
But it with us doth more increase.  
How can they justly Honour claim,  
Slighting those should advance the same?  
How can God's worship be advanced,  
Where Error still is countenanced?  
Vice mixed with Nobility,  
Truth shrouded with Hypocrisy,  
Learning thrust out, Ignorance in  
Th●y soothed, in their slavish sin;  
N●●●ing vile Error, with as Factious Fools:  
These are our mighty Men, or mighty Fools.   Exit.  

Actus Secundus.  Enter the Ghost of Pym. 
FRom the black Lake that runs round Erebus I come, permitted by the King of Flames, to visit those that my Copartners were, when I was clothed in flesh: I, whose projections grim and dangerous, brought a free people into slavery, incensing them against their gracious Prince, and topsy-turvy turned all LAW and RIGHT; while England England wounded, Civil broils eat up the Natives, ravenous Mulciber devasted Houses and large Granaries; Tumults, Sedition, Schisms, Blasphemies, like a Gangraena, overspread the face of beauteous Britain: I, that for the same am doomed for evermore to fry in flames, with an admired swift velocity, proper to spirits, and aerial forms, now tread on English ground: pale ●ynthia mounted in her silver Wain, now takes her progress by the milky way, and now Aldeboran is mounted high, above the shinie Cassiopeia's Chair, all things are hushed & still, the world's a sleep: thou perfect Image of grim Death, whose drink is Lethe, all-oppressing Sleep hang on his eyes, whose factious soul is charmed with soporiferous draughts of idle ease;  

While I surview his person, borne to be  
His Country's Bane, the Fate of Monarchy:   
See here the emblem of Democracie, the very abstract of Sedition; be bold my Cromwell, and inexorable.  Draws a Curtain, discovers Cromwell sleeping beneath a Canopy. 

For such a Will Hell doth afford to thee,  
Thou shalt not fear to fetter Majesty.   Exit Ghost. Cromw. 
What airy Fancies doth the sleepy God distil He wakes. into my teeming Brain? Me thought I saw the gates of Hell unbarred, the Iron doors unhindged▪ from whence swifter than Lightning issued out the spirit of my Patron Pym— Stay gentle Shade, and if Hell's King give leave, let me embrace thee in my longing arms— Deluding Fancy, how dost thou persuade, that I should thus discourse with my own shade— Here's none, I did but dream; me thinks, like Aeson, I am now renewed, my spirits are more vigorous, and of a bolder temper than of late: Is not my Body now a walking Armour, my Ribs are Bars of Brass, my Hands of Iron? So please ye, ye all-powerfull Destinies, that my Heart fail not, nor my Sinews shrink till I have brought to pass what I intent, till I have made myself Lord Paramount, and quite eradicated all those Laws which many Ages past have been adored, till I have quite dissolved all Monarchy, and topsi-turvey▪ turned all Regal Power: let my fierce Soldiers, like the Nubians,  

Go headlong on, impatient of all stay,  
Through blood and horror for to make their way.   
〈◊〉 ●ee● I doubt to bring my ends to pass, since now I have new cast the timorous State, made up my Faction all the Kingdom o'er, Imprisoned Charles my King, exiled his Friends; what let's me then that I ascend a throne— O Yes, there's thousands do make me their curse, and I am now become a public hate, the people staggering, stand as in amaze.  

But to undo their doubts I will provide,  
As Alexander Gordius, Knots untied.   Exit. Enter CHORUS. 

The world's a popular Disease, and all  
Are mortal find it Epidemical,  
It's still distempering poor anxious men.  
Firing their brains till they to dust again;  
One raves, as troubled with a boiling heart,  
He craves the favour of the blind gods Dart,  
Another lets his Oaths about to fly,  
Which deafs men's ears like Jove's Artillery;  
He's drenched in care, the t'other frisks and sings,  
This man loves study, t'other Revellings;  
He hugs his Gold, another spends it all,  
One niggardly, t'other a prodigal:  
'tis sure a symptom of approaching Ill,  
When disacquainted sense knows not the will;  
What less (than fools) are they that prog & plot,  
To gain their utmost wish? but being got,  
They lavish out the chiefest of their care,  
And in the end die mad, or in despair.    

Actus Tertius.  Enter Chirlandus, and Symancha, two Jesuits. Chirl. 
THe news Symancha, how did thy project thrive? Syman. As well as our Lord God the Pope can wish; I am elected for a constant Preacher to I▪ his Regiment.  Chirl. 
And I have so much favour gained, to morrow I receive an Institution to be established in a wealthy Living which lately was Sequestered.  Sym. 
Why▪ than our journey hath been prosperous, and thanks is due from our most holy Concalve; what shall we pitch upon?  Chirl. 
Not to divulge ourselves, 'tis dangerous, but this I propose as most emergent; we will assay, even with our utmost power, to fan the fire of those grand differences which do prognosticate a cruel War between those Heretics on either side, the Independents and the Presbyterians, and so what SPAIN, nor ROME, nor HELL could bring to pass, we shall I hope effect.  Syman. 
We need not seek to destroy them, although Platine, Sylvester, Prierius, Bellarmine, Bozius, and Pezantius, do warrant the black Deed, the Treachery and damned deluded minds of his own Subjects will ere long dispatch him; and in the mean time to unrivet them, Fire, Murder, and Sedition we will raise, the better to bring low the Heretics.  Chirl. 
To us this doth belong, to this we swore by the sacred Holocaust, and 'tis the duty of all Catholics, be they ne'er so pedantic, by Fire and Sword, Poison and Gunpowder, and all such other Plots and Stratagems, to take out of the way all Heretics, and so to elevate the Papal throne.  Syman. 
Now Christ's Vicegerent shall have Peter-pences once more paid out of England, the English Kings shall be constrained to stoop, and prostrate to kiss his blessed feet, to whom all things are possible, but to err.  Chirl. 
Sing out ye sacred Choir of Choristers, and chant loud Anthems in a jocula-veine, for we have won the Goal; but thinkest thou 'twere not good my best Symancha, if we inquired at that BLACK ORACLE, the mouth of Pluto, what will be the event of their Distractions, and these our undertake?  Syman. 
It will be safe to do so.  Chirl. 
Help spread the Circle; now stand firm with me in this circumference, let silence charm thy tongue, strength fortify thy heart, while I raise Lucifer with my incantations, and make all Hell to tremble at my words:  They enter the Circle. 

Hear me, O thou Stygian God,  
Who forfeitedst thy first abode,  
Thou who allurd'st the inferior Stars  
With Great JEHOVE to manage Wars;  
While the sweet hormonious Spheres  
Were Drums and Trumpets in your ears,  
Yet, as the murmuring winds conspire,  
With thunder, and with flashing fire  
The world to fear, and make us think  
Our cup is full even to the brink, Thunder.  
And when amid these angry tones,  
Innumerable weighty stones  
Of hail fall down, whose fragour make  
The MACHINE of the world to shake,  
So wert thou precipicted from Heaven,  
When Michael had thy sentence given,  
With thy cursed Followers, who like flies,  

* Hae● omnium Doctorum opinio est quod Aeriste qui caelum & terram medius dividens, inane vocatur plenus sit, contrariis, Fortitudinibus S. Hier. in cap ●. Epist. Ephesi.  Can we see with spiritual eyes,  
As Atoms do hop up and down,  
Hang o'er each Village and each Town,  
Come, O come, without delay,  
Before more powerful charms I say. Thunder.   Surgit Behemoh. Behemoh; 
What would Chirlandus?  Chirl. 
I charge thee, by the Regent of the night, the triformed Hecate, to tell me what will be the period of all those mighty things in Agitation which now the State of England labour with? Will the most dreadful storm that threatens them, shower down amain, or else be blown away?  Behem. 
Those secrets that are writ by Jove's own hand I cannot be permitted to scan o'er, yet by my conversation in that Clime, my sly intrusion into Families, this I dare to pronounce:  

When the time comes that you shall see  
A headless Body Active be,  
And many horrid Deeds performed  
By a Trunk, without an Head adorned;  
If that same Body and the Head  
By Friendly Hands be soldered,  
Then happy Days may chance ensue,  
Or else for aye bid Peace adve.   Chirl. 
Shall Rome gain footing here once more? And shall we be successful, yea, or no?  Behe. 

If when the two parts vanquished be,  
The Third keep fixed to Hierarchy,  
No hope of that, but if they fail  
The Papal power may prevail.   Descendit. 
There's all I dare relate.  Syman. 
What mystic sense his words include?  Chirl. 
we'll sift the sense in private.  

Strange mysteries i'th' Book of Fate doth lie,  
Not legible to every common eye.   Exeunt. Enter CHORUS. 

Lo from our cursed Dissensions, and our Wars,  
How Rome gets strength, the whore of Babylon  
Doth clap her hands, and laughs to see our Jars,  
Hoping ere long she us shall tread upon:  
Heavens bowl of Vengeance we have quaffed it up,  
And shall we also cast her deadly Cup?   

That Reformation cannot (sure) be good,  
That craves the Sword to hue its passage out:  
By Schism, Sedition, Treachery, and Blood,  
Antichrist thrives▪ even all the world about;  
When men compel their fellows good to act,  
The manner of it discommends the Fact.   

'Tis sure, that never Rome such footing had  
Since Mary fell, as she hath gotten now,  
That damned 
* Jesuits.  Sect all o'er the Kingdom gad,  
Who falsely unto Jesus make their vow:  
Whose task it is for to augment Dissontion,  
And for to fan the fire of our Contention.   

If it be for God's glory, to pull down  
All decent Rites, and Orders, if't may be  
A King should become great, high in Renown,  
By being Captived, Plunged in Misery:  
If that though people by all loss may throve,  
Then let us for to thank our Statesmen strive.   Exit.  

Actus Quartus▪  Enter Col. Hammond, His Majosties' Jailor, with a bunch of Keys at his girdle; a Servant. Ham. 
Is the Guard placed about the Privy Chamber, and are the Castle Gates barred sure?  Seru. 
They are, Sir.  Ham. 
On what a ticklish point I stand; and like a man walks a ridged Battlement: If he digress to the right hand or the left, hazards the bruising of his fleshly tenement, and forseiture of Soul; so I, betwixt the fealty I own unto my rightful King, and the commands of an all-powerfull State, am doubly purged; the one desires me show a Subjects Duty, the other doth command a Traitor's hate; If I obey the one, than I accrue my Sovereign's displeasure; If satisfy the other, then lie I liable to Imprisonment, or if they please, to Death. O Fear how potent art thou! The man possessed with thee, cares not to sell his Country and his King, to Act the worst of Crimes that Hell ere hatched, so he secure himself.  

I am resolved, though LOYALTY descent,  
To Act even as't shall please the Parliament.   Exit. Enter two Soldiers drunk. 1 Sould. 
I'll not pay a farthing, let the City Cuckold's pay it and they will—  2 Sould. 
Nor I by Oliver; we'll find a time— ere long to search their Mo-ney Ba-gs: shall men— of Clo-u●s have Gold, and men of War want it?  1 Sould. 
You are under Col. Bax-ter, the Thimble-maker.  2 Sould. 
Mary am I  1 Sould. 
I serve under the Command— of Co-lonel Ochre, Okey I mean.  2 Sold 
A pox upon't, would I were amongst the Bacon-boyes again, with them my Oaths could profit me; but here, if I but utter once an angry word, I'm snapped,— here's not a farthing on the public Faith— eight pence a day— will hardly find me Drink.  1 Sould. 
Hark— I'll sing thee a Song.  2 Sould. 
Out with't.  1 Sol. 

A SONG.  

1  
WHat Rogues were we,  
So deluded to be,  
to come hither to our sorrow;  
I would White-Hall  
To the ground might fall,  
that we might be gone to morrow.   

2  
If here we do call,  
And not pay for all,  
we are sure to be sound beaten;  
As sure as our Coats,  
They'll pluck out our throats,  
if we pay not for what we have eaten.   

3  
I wish we were gone  
From hence every one,  
for sure we shall be all undone;  
Should the Army come all,  
What would them be fall?  
they care not for Soldiers in London.    2 Sould. 
'Tis time we were at our Quarters; let's away.  Exeunt. Enter CHORUS. 

Shall we never find our error,  
but still stumble, till we fall  
Into that Pit of endless Terror,  
for our Crimes so capital?  
Shall we still behold our God  
Despised, his Priests without abode,  
Our King for ever under-trod?   

Shall our Laws be ever wanting,  
and our own swords cut our throats?  
Shall our hearts be always panting,  
and nothing heard but dreary notes?  
Shall a sort of Knaves still Rule us,  
And a sort of Dolts still fool us?  
Shall our faintness ever cool us?   

England, will thy eyes ne'er be  
with thy wrongs illuminated?  
London, wilt thou never see,  
but for ever be amated?  
Let England rouse, and London rise,  
Ere't be too late, if they be wise,  
T'regain their pristine Dignities.   Exit.  

Actus Quintus.  Enter Oliver, Harry Martin, Joice, Pride, Staines, cum multis aliis, sit round at a Table, as in counsel. Oliv. 
I'll have no more Proposals sent to the King and so let them at Westminster be told; they're purely Iretons Issue, begotten by the Court-influence on his brains; as, Sol & Homo generat Hominem.  Mart. 
No; we will at one blow break the yoke of Kings, and make ourselves sole Lords: as for the Scots, we'll kick them home again, with their Presbytery; they are not Engines fit for us to use.  Joice. 
I do rejoice to hear your good resolves.  Pride. 
And I am proud to be partaker with you.  Stories. 
Nor shall I count it any stain to honour, to set my helping hand.  Oliv. 
What Law is there, that can obstruct our hop●s now, we have conquered our Conqueror? And if none have ●●●ue and legal ●●g●● to the outward ben●●●ts of this life (sage Saints) than none ought to enjoy their Sweets, BUT WE. If any dare to repine or emulate at our greatness, is not our Army numerous & strong, and able to stop their months with earth?  Mart. 
'Tis true, great Sir, there's nothing visible that can retard our hopes; but Policy persuades, to have a care of what may be hereafter: for this end, let us send to them at Westminster, to frame an Ordinance to this effect because the people groan under their burdens, and sigh for sorrow, when they think, that yet more Troubles are to come, a choice Committee now selected are, for to redress their wrongs, and hear their grievances.  Pride. 
Nor is this all need to be done: the people prophesy we level all, and that the House of Peers with us are useless; now should the Lords, incensed with their wrongs, conjure amongst their Tenants, the Devils would not easily be laid.  Oliv. 
To noose those Lords yet further, since yet we have not made our best of them, let there a Declaration be drawn up, in which we'll say, that with our utmost might we will support the Peerage of the Kingdom.  Mart. 
Fond fools, do they imagine, they can conserve their Honours, when CHARLES hath lost his Greatness? or, that when as our ends are served upon them, we will not shake'em off with scorn and spite.  Oliv. 
It is decreed, and they shall find it so: what now remains, but that we do proceed to make ourselves FREE STATES? Which to accomplish, let no time be lost, in voting down the KING, in sifting of his Manuscripts and Papers, that so we may have matter for his Life:  

And then, though Heaven and Earth say no such thing,  
Yet spite of PATES, and MEN, I will be KING.   Exeunt. Enter CHORUS. 

Atlas, do thou our falling World sustain,  
for we are sinking now into Abyss;  
Let the Eumenideses come on amain,  
the high Cithaerus' top, is Cromwel's bliss:  
But thou Maegera bring him down again,  
and quench his Pride in the salt Meotis▪  
Or else let some brave soul for virtue stand,  
And send his soul into Enyo's hand.   Exit.  
THE END.