BRITANICUS HIS BLESSING.  

Hell's blessings on thee, my blasphemous son,  
Thou hast thy brother Rabshekah outdone.  
Shimei was Courtly, (if compared to thee)  
Thou every week writ'st higher Blasphemy.  
Korah's gainsaying, if compared to thine,  
Was Petit-treason: Thou in every line  
Out-vy'st all these. Thou bravely play'st thy part,  
And to our service show'st a loyal heart  
All I can promise, is, when thou shalt come,  
Thou shalt be glorious for thy martyrdom.  
Nay thou shalt set thy house in order too,  
And in thy death Achitophel outdo.  
Thou taught'st the people better to rebel,  
Then why shouldst thou not in thy death excel?  
Both him and all those who came here before,  
Since thou (dear son) hast done for us much more,  
Vicisti Galilaee thou shalt cry  
(As julian did) and cast thy blood on high.  
Or thou shalt die like Arrius, who withstood  
The Nazarite, voiding both thy guts and blood.  
Yet we will write for thee an Epitaph,  
Which who ere reads, he shall not choose but laugh:   

Hic jacet Britannicus, Scurra, Rabula, Lixa, Lanista,  
Et filius Belial, & Regis Antagonista.   

Here lies Britannicus that snarling cur,  
That son of Belial, who kept such a stir:  
Who every Monday spent his stock of spleen  
In venomous railing on the King and Queen:  
Whom though they both in goodness should forgive,  
Yet we have vowed Britannicus must not live.    

BRITANICUS HIS WELCOME.  
I Joy to think what Bonfires shall be made,  
When thou shalt come, great Master of our trade.  
Hell's brazen gates shall be set  for thee,  
And churlish Cerberus shall refuse his fee.  
And when thy soul shall enter into hell,  
It shall be welcomed with a hideous yell.  
We will prepare such Music for thine ear  
As that which pleased Caligula to hear.  
He took delight to hear the parting groans  
Of tortured wretches, and would praise their tones.  
And now the meanest soul imprisoned here,  
Will in his tortures great Caligula jeer:  
For we confess it is our greatest pleasure  
To see our tallies struck, and equal measure.  
Our inner rooms shall be perfumed for thee,  
With Auri calcus, Sulphur, Mercury.  
And for the strength of it I dare presume  
Nor Spain, nor Rome, hath any such perfume.  
Of Sodom's Apples we will Lambs-wool make,  
And drink carouses of the Stygian Lake.  
This must thy Garnish (son) thy welcome be,  
And all my Legions shall attend on thee.  
Nay more, to show thou art a welcome guest,  
We will prepare for thee a royal Feast.  
Two fat Presbyters sides, collerd in Lawn,  
In Jesuits urine soused, shall be thy Brawn.  
With Aqua Regis we will grind thy mustard,  
And of Hienna's milk we'll make thy custard,  
With th'eggs of Asps. O 'tis a curious dish!  
And for a Gusto doth exceed man's wish.  
Flap-dragon we will drink instead of Wine,  
For to this Brawn we drink this Muscadine.  
This liquor is by cunning Chemists drawn  
From several Minerals to digest the Brawn.  
This with our very breaths to flames will turn,  
And like Flap-dragon in our stomaches burn.  
An Ollio we must have, a dish of State,  
(A Spanish dish) ne'er heard of till of late.  
The Nymphaes of six wanton sisters wombs,  
In their own liquor stewed with Stygean plums.  
Twelve Roundheads inchpinnes of the largest size,  
Minced with the marrow of a Lechers thighs.  
Two dozen of pious preaching Sisters tongues,  
As many Woodcock's heads, two Foxes lungs.  
Who eats this Ollio, he shall quickly find  
A strange increase of brain, and length of wind.  
Twelve Independents Gammons shall be set  
Upon the board, well smoked, and black as jet.  
(For the Westphalians learned this art of me,  
I was the first ere used this Cookery.)  
My costly Hogoost I remembered not,  
Which is a dish that must not be forgot.  
Six Anabaptists hearts with Garlic stuck:  
Two Jesuits brains, a sincere Brownists Pluck,  
Stewed in a Traitors skull with sublimate:  
We with this Hogoost poison many a State.  
We for our Fruit will of those Apples have  
Which Eve our Mother unto Adam gave.  
Our Cheese must be rebellious too, and made  
Among those States where you have learned your trade  
Then we'll conclude our Feast; and drink a Health  
In Royal blood to our new Commonwealth.  
Thus you may see what honour shall be done  
To him the Devil styles his dearest son.  
FINIS.   

AT CAMBRIDGE, Imprinted by ROGER DANIEL, Printer to the University.  
1646.