THE CAMBRIDGE royalist Imprisoned. 'tWas then, when as the Fame of rupert's Force Called the confiding Counties all to Horse, And drew the Bacon-eating Cavaliers (By the convenient Handle of their ears) To leave their tough done Wives behind, and come (Their Calve-skin Breeches turned into a Drum) Tout-stinke our streets at Cambridge, when as I (Being guilty found of too much honesty) By two Malignants was, Conscience and Reason, Betrayed t'an act of Virtue, now called Treason: The Committee was strait informed; A youth, With goodly goggle eyes, and large ●vry mouth, Is sent for me.— He knocks at Door: Who's there? A Friend; Duns, I deke you all, Come near! The word scarce spoke, there comes one rushing in, All armed with Ear, his B●●f● was o'th' same skin▪ What could One think this was? Some monstrous Creature, Tanned, whilst it was alive, whose Visage Nature Broached i'th' wrong place; Faith, I took't for a Man. (Boldly I must confess) and thus began: What wouldst thou Friend, what brought thee to this place? He answers me from th'other side his face; Y'are a Malignant Sir, and Rebel, we Are sent to fetch you to the Committee. Good words my Friend; if you or I must be A Rebel, I some hope of Comfort see, Your Mouth doth just i'th' hanging posture stand: With that his Brows fierce bristles startled, and I yield up, Sir, I'll go along with you: Walk on; Nay leave me in the Chamber though, Good Lord, y'are all so complemental. Down We go, and both marched up into the Town: And which way now? Nay, good Sir keep the wall: Excuse me, Sir; Nay as you live you shall: Why 'tis the windy side, and credit me Your strange perfumes make my head ache. Thus we Marched to the Towne-Hall; where being strait ●et in, Such company such smoke, such stink, such din, Such swearing did salute me, that I fell On wondering how we came up stairs to Hell, For this could be no less; on every side Such sawcer-eyes appeared such horrid, wide, And gaping mouths, such teeth, such thorny hair, Which you might see through th' lantern of their ear, So short, so strangely notched, that you might know It never had been cut, but singed so; Beside each hornpipe voice seemed to betray Where good Saint Dunstan's Tongues had spoilt the way: Happy the men must fight with these, thought I, For they shall nothing but their backs espy. Six Volley of Curses 'gainst the Scholars, here, Went off for entertainment, and a Jeer. Or two were passed for Compliment; but I, Like a brave-suffering Man, passed silent by. They spent themselves about me: One steps out, And cries, Rupert's a Coward; all the Rout Clap hands to th' Basket-hilt, and Draw, then cry, Oh that we had that Devil Rupert by. Out ye damned Garlick-eating Rogues, D'ye think You don't already vent sufficient stink, But you must call for one, whose very Name Will die your Scarves and Breeches of the same? Three redion; hours amongst these hellhounds we Bravely en lured; when coming in we see A spruce young Rebel, who scarce yet did know Whether he fought against the King, or no; Who had been Scholar once (t'our shame be't spoken) Since a young Merchant, and since that time broken, Now damned to th' service of the Rebels: he Proffered his utmost pains to set us free. I, though it vexed me, any of them should Do aught which even Compliment might call good, Yet had not so much valour to deny Quarter, though from a Rebel, willingly Accept his courteous offer; thinking then, The greatest Good could befall innocent men, Was to be soon accused: With that away We went to th' Bear, where then our Judges lay; Where by the Captain we were brought before A verier Beast then that which hung at door, A strange fat unlicked, bald-faced fellow, who Was round all ore, head, face, back, belly too: This thing was Knighted once, but into's skin, Beside the tallow and guts, were crowded in A Fool, a Knave, a Madman, in whose Rights He since hath styled himself not Knight, but Knights. He having tuned his Pipes with six or seven Good rattling Oaths, began to speak; 'Fore Heaven Gentlemen this is strange, By— it is; And if it were but my case as 'tis his, (Meaning the Colonels) I'd hang you all: For look you, Sir, if any Body shall Abuse the Parliament, as some of you May chance, and I have witness of it too, judge me, confound me, if you had but don't, The best amongst you should hear further on't, This Mooneling I did now perceive to be A kind of Haselrigge to the Committee, Only brought unto do he knew not what, And gladly would have kept him out of that Mad Wilderness of Nonsense, and began To ask him, What the matter was? The man Mad at this Interruption, tells us plain, We all must back to th' Court of Guard again; The Devil sure (thought I) entered this Rogue In the same humour that he did the Hog. But obstinate he was, we all are sent To th' Hell from whence we came, and down we went. But our spruce Youngster who before relieved us, Now in the height of our Despair reprieved us, And by stealth kept us in the House: the Mind Of him who finding Gold, did leave behind His Rope, was not so glad as ours; for here We found a handsome Room, good wholesome Beero, Some hopes of Supper too, nor did we lack The promise of incomparable Sack. And sayest thou so, my Lad? Let's have it then; Fill my Bowl full, you Rogue. Come Gentlemen, A Health t'our friends, and him above the rest, Who's meant by th' Philip and Clap upon the breast. How now, who's drooping there? who dares be so In the King's Cause, and on the King's day too? Pox on't, 'tis scurvy; I'll tell thee, we shall bring (When we are merry or lousy) for the King As much of spirit as when we fight for him. Come, here's to thee Jack, 'Tis a Cup of good Sack, Let the Plunderers come, With their Fife and Drum, Let in Bullet i'th' House, We care not a Louse, I'll fill up my Cup, And take it all up. Then through their Chambers we'll send such a Rattle, Shall summon the Rogues in their Dreams to Battle; And when we begin but our Voices to rear, It shall strike such a terror in every Prickeare, That shall make the Roundheads Leap out of their Beds, And swear Prince Rupert's there. What was't I began, King Charles was the Man? 'Tis he that must now Claim just title too. That gallant brave food Of rich sparkling blood, That Liquor must make, Which now thou dost take, I tell thee 'twill bring such spirits to thee, That shall in the face of a Rebel flee; And entering in, without any control, Shall find out that dirty thing called thy Soul, And hunt it about, Till they drive it out, By the way most stinking and foul. Come fill my Cup full, here's to the taking of Hull, To the Man that shall bring The great Cuckold to th' King, To him that shall make Northampton to quake, To all that dare fight, And die with delight. Then let them all come; what fearest, thou Man? Do but spend what thou hast, let them take what they can: And since that the Rogues with their Arms do endeavour Ourselves from our King and our Money to sever, we'll send it by stealth, In drinking his Health, And give't him that way soever. This Rapture ended, we see coming in A good Man of the Tribe of Anakim; A pretty beardless Squire followed him nigh, Being a Gig of his, some seven foot high: They tell us, Supper's coming up; we say, Let it come up, ●'th ' means time drink away. Supper being done, the mirth w'enjoyed before Returns continues some five hours, or more; Mysterious Malignant Healths abound, Which we by Signs and Characters put round; The last of which Sm●●miniously went up, Each Letter in the Name Christened a Cup. And now a● things convenient being done, Our Brace of 〈◊〉 Ho● and Son, Made very sleepy, out hea● Captain sun●●, Our Hostess kissed our gentle Keepers drunk, A bri●●ing Cast gone round, to Bed we go, And sleep like valiant Prisoners roundly too; Our Martial Jailers by us are laid all. Drunk o'th' ground, dirt to dirt: i'th' Morn they call. We louse ourselves, and rise, then go to be Questioned by the Sanedrim i'th' Committee. But here things prove quite contrary; No man Can tell why we are brought there: We began T'examine them, What was our favit? Our foe. The gentle Knight said, he did nothing know, But that we might be honest: only apace He swore that we were Rogues, and hanging was Too good for us: Another starts, and says We wore Kings Colours (God so, Hid thy face, Good fellow Prisoner, that pale reddish Blue Will else betray us) Another swore, he knew Each of us had a Pope in's belly; some Said we drank Healths unto they knew not whom: Our Keepers knew no hurt, unless 'thad been Drinking of Sack, honest jack Falstaffes sin, That could not any accusation bring, (Though Royal Drink and Laquor for the King) One said he thought that we Malignants were; That very word made us to tarry there: For now their Cabinet Counsel thought it fit To keep us, till we should some Crime commit. This vexed me (I confess) and to my thought Some of my daily Meditations brought. Curse on your Parliament Justice; I did know This was your way, and I have felt it now: Alas, we know your arbitrary hate Is grown to be both our Ste●ne Law and Fate; We know how oft y'are forced the Name to change, And what you can't call Punishment, is Revenges If you do hap to light on a confessed Offender, 'tis but Fortune at the best. To be thought honest Men, is to betray Ourselves and fortunes (an unlucky prey) To your vast cruel Avarice: We know What horrid ills you must hereafter do, By Sequestration and Proscriptions; Crimes Which shall absolve th' Irish in aftertimes. Oh may these Wrongs sit heavy on you, when You meet the King i'th' Field; May your Ills then Stick fast and strongly to you on all parts. And send a ghastly trembling through your hearts; May you then think of GOD, and p●●us grow, And then Despair prove Cowardice in you; Be your own spirits amongst you, to possess Your Coward hearts with thoughts of guiltiness, And fear of Vengeance: May each good man's prayer, Whom you have wronged, fly strong against you there; And your miraculous Misfortunes bring You to confess, you fight against the King. And sure we shall at last our wishes gain, So vigorous hatred cannot be in vain: If Murder, Rapine, and Injustice be Enough t'orewhelme you, sure these eyes shall see Your Villainies unmasked, and you so low And poor, that even myself shall pity you. And thou my Knight, whom a more sordid Fate Hath made below so strong, and fierce a hate, My venerable Judge, to whom I own Six L●ce and my Imprisonment, shalt grow More famous now (if ought my Verses can, Or those my Friends can make) thou shalt b'a Man Greater than Fate hath made thee (if Ballets be But capable of Immortality) Children and Market-maids in aftertimes Shall see thee dressed in most vile Tunes, and Rhymes, And Alehouses as yet not built, shall see Thy Picture pasted on their Mantletree: Near look to die, thou shalt be laughed at still, Longer than Nashos Harvy, or Triplets Gill. FINIS. Sent from the same Scholar from Cambridge, whose name is R. B. to his Royal friend at Oxford, T. S.