portrait of Oliver Cromwell  
 portrait of Lady Cromwell   

The Case is Altered.  
OR, Dreadful news from Hell.  
In a discourse between the Ghost of this grand Traitor and Tyrant Oliver Croomwel, and Sir reverence my Lady Joan his wife, at their late meeting near the Scaffold on Tower-hill.  
WITH His Epitaph written in hell, on all the grand Traitors, now in the Tower.  
London Printed, for John Andrews at the white Lion near Pie-Corner.   

The Case is altered, OR, Dreadful news from Hell. In a discourse between the Ghost of that grand Tyrant and Traitor Oliver Cromwell, and Sir Reverence my Lady Joan his wife.  Joan. 
WAlking over Tower-hill near about the place where Sendercome was buried, I saw an apparition appear, Lord quoth I what is here!  Noll. 
Thy Lord, sweet heart, and Queen Joan, the Old Dragon late Lord Protector.  Joan. 
What Oliver my dear friend, In the name of the twelve grand jury Traitors, what comes thou here for.  Noll. 
Why truly I come about several accounts now, the first was to know what strange alterations have been here, since I departed my late reprobate vale of Tyranny; And another thing was to know what was become of my dear Imps, the two Princes Richard and Henry.  Joan. 
As for the two Princes I shall relate their fall, proceeding of their misfortune, by and by, but the product will prove as sad a story, as the fall of Jehew, or Balshazar, but pray tell me first what is the reason of this your solentary walking here.  Noll. 
Why truly part is in regard of decensions, which is always rising between the Devil and I, whereupon I do intent for to streak out and appoint a place where Hasterigs bones, Scot, and Vanes, shall be intered, for absolutely if they would dispatch and come away, with their advice and my own, we could usurp a power from the Devil, and live in a corner by ourselves, without interruption.  Joan. 
Why cannot you deal with him now?  Noll. 
No, no, Bradshaw and I cannot, for all we have dealt with him so much as we have.  Joan. 
Well I shall tell them what you say, for I think I shall go to the Tower ere long.  Noll. 
Ah, but not to continue there, poor Joan, must ye?  Joan. 
Yes, truly, there I believe, or else in Bridewell.  Noll. 
Why? you were never accessary to any of my horrid Villainies, were ye.  Joan. 
No that's true, but part of your venom lighted upon my tongue, and 'twas never wiped of yet, nor never will to my dying day.  Noll. 
Why what hast thou said to any of them all.  Joan. 
Nothing but true honest presumptuous words. That your son King Richard the fourth, had most right to wear the Crown of these three Kingdoms.  Noll. 
Wear a Crown, wear a halter, I know he was never capable out.  Joan. 
Why did you think so, had not he a great many of your devilish parts in him.  Noll. 
No, no, nor devilish brains neither, for if he'd had, he might a run the destruction of City and Country, as well as I did, and a lived like a Tyrant, though he had did like a dog.  Joan. 
Ay truly Noll, had he but a took your course, we had all lived in a brave, sweet, diabolical condition; so long as we had three captivitated Kingdoms to rob and impoverish, whom you left him heir of, and General of all the Armies, though I must confess he knew no more how to grovern them then did a dog.  Noll. 
Ay thou sayest true, Jug he had more mind to his Dogs and his Haucks, than he had to be a Tyrannical Protector, like me.  Joan. 
But indeed Noll he was led by the nose, like an ape in a string, by that Schismatic Judas fact Fleetwood, who run his own ruin by it, taking so much rope, that he hanged himself at last; and thus were we poor reprobates dashed out of countenance, scoffed, scorned, and derided, and even stunk in the nostrils of all sober minded people, worse than your wretched corpse, did at the inbalming.  Noll. 
O but how did I roar at the news, when I heard that righteousness should take place, it pierced my ears worse than an augor, that even Hell gates did tremble.  Joan. 
But how came the news thither so soon.  Noll. 
Why had not they evil spirits enough about them to carry it.  Joan. 
But what would you have done Noll, had you been there then at that time.  Noll. 
I would have paved my way to the house, with their skulls.  Joan. 
Alas poor dog of Epypt.  Noll. 
But who ruled the sword of vengeance then, when my Imps was discarded?  Joan. 
O the Rump came tumbling in like mad, and sat in the night times a great while.  Noll. 
Why did they sit in the night?  Joan. 
Because they were ashamed to sit in the day.  Noll. 
Who brought them into their former rebellion?  Joan. 
O 'twas Lambert running headlong as if he would break his neck.  Noll. 
Altogether had been no great matter, but did they continue long there.  Joan. 
No, no he presently turned them out again, and began to set up for himself.  Noll. 
O brave Lambert the Devil play his part bravely in him, to be for 'em and 'gainst 'em too, but who ruled the mischief after Lambert.  Joan. 
O a Committee of safety all-weathers.  Noll. 
Ha' boys, they were a safe Commit indeed.  Joan. 
No not so safe neither, for they were presently turned out again.  Noll. 
Then it seems the Devil played his part, amongst my brethren bravely.  Joan. 
Ay truly Noll, and amongst your Children too as I myself.  Noll. 
But where was your den of sedition than all that while, the honest hypocrites were hatching villainies.  Joan. 
O I was at home at my own jointure at the Cockpit.  Noll. 
And why did you not continue their?  Joan. 
Truly so I would Noll, but the Secluded Members came in, and they told me 'twas none of my own, and turned me clearly out of doors at last, neither did they give me as much homage as they might have given to an ordinary Duchess.  Noll. 
Alas poor Queen, but what did the Rump do when they went to Portsmouth?  Joan. 
O they stole up presently again, and sat again.  Noll. 
O fie talk no more, talk no more of this, for I think I hear my bones crackle in the old chest, to think I had not been amongst them in such a fine vilenous sport.  Joan. 
O Oliver you had a good turn out, that the Devil fetched you away so soon as he did, before these sad days had come to pass.  Noll. 
Ay truly Jugg and if a had fetched thee too, it had not been a hapeth of harm, than thou shouldst a been rid from this calamity, but prithee whether be all those reverence, discreet Rumpers gone, the Devils Compeitdors.  Joan. 
Alas most of them be tabled in the Tower, and each of them have a couple of Musket-teares honourably to attend them at their Chamber doors, secuer enough I'll warrant ye.  Noll. 
Pray who are the capitals of them.  Joan. 
Why truly 'tis Arguile, Antrim. Hasslerig and Vane.  Noll. 
O brave politickcal worthy Traitors, all fitting to live in a Commonwealth, and able to destroy it in one half year.  Joan. 
Nay they did intent to do it in less than a month, for had they set the three Kingdoms together in another war, under pretence of Religion, their designs had been accomplished.  Noll. 
And why were they not?  Joan. 
Because the devil brought out their designs so speedily.  Noll. 
The reason was because he could stay no longer without their company.  Joan. 
But who would you have now to Preach their Funeral Sermons.  Noll. 
O Person Peter's my own Divine, that sent me headlong to the Devil, and can he not as well send them? yes faith I'll warrant ye.  Joan. 
Nay truly I verily believe that he's a coming along with them.  Noll. 
Not unlikely truly, for he doth deserve the place as well as the best of them.  Joan. 
But where will you appoint a place to bury their corpse in.  Noll. 
One the middle of little Tower-hill.  Joan. 
And why there, on Tower hill?  Noll. 
Because they shall not annoy any other good people in the Churchyard.  Joan. 
Pray will ye ordain the Epitapht which are most meet and suitable for such a brave, profane, ireligious honourable society.  Noll. 
Yes that I will, for my conscience within me commands me to assist any of my reprobated sons of perdition, and they shall be these as followeth.   

THE EPITAPHS.  

HEre lies the body of Arguile a Scot  
Whose Tyranny will never be forgot,  
Murdered his fellow Marquis of Muntross,  
Thirty foot high this Vilan built his cross,  
It's too long to tell of all his acts that's past,  
But in the end, the Gallows was his last   

Here lies the Earl of Antrim whose tongue,  
Have bloody grand conspiraces begun,  
Brought up in Ireland but was born a Scot,  
Whose hands perpetually contrved plots,  
For all his acts and horrid Villainy,  
A shameful death in this same place did die.   

Here lies the body of Haslerig the late  
Grand Traitor to his King, both Church and State.  
Most impirous Villain Tyranised over,  
Three stately Kingdoms twenty years and more:  
Murdered his Prince and all his honours blast,  
For which due recompense will hang at last.   

Here lies the body of Henry Vane we know,  
Proud Traitor to his King and Country too,  
The Rumpships' title lately did invent,  
But termed themselves a stately Parliament.  
Reproach and baseness he'll bring to his grave,  
Who lived like a Tyrant and did like a Knave.   

Now I old Oliver have got such fame,  
That Rolls of Infamy records my name,  
I do desire both with heart and tongue  
Beseeching that you would not stay too long,  
And do desire you all your friends to tell,  
Old oliver's become housekeeper in Hell.    
FINIS.