November the 5 1605. THE QVINTESSENCE OF cruelty, OR, masterpiece OF TREACHERY, THE POPISH powder-plot, Invented by Hellish-Malice, Prevented by Heavenly-mercy. Truly related, and from the Latin of the Learned, Religious, and Reverend Dr. HERRING, translated and very much dilated. By JOHN VICARS.  son of man, write the name of the day, even of this same day, wherein the King of Babylon set himself against Jerusalem; This same Day. EZEK. 24. 2. 
LONDON, Printed by G. M for R. Harford at the sign of the guilt Bible in Queens-head-ally in Pater-noster-row. 1641.   

 
SEe, here, the Popish Pouder-plots fair thriving;  
Fauks and his Father-Satan fit contriving  
The fatall-Instruments, to puff and blow  
Hell out of Earth, a State to overthrow,  
At Once, for All: But, here, behold likewise,  
Heaven's All-seeing-Eye, which deepest-pits espies:  
This desperate work of darkness sees most clear,  
And, timely, makes the mischief All appear:  
To Israel's blessed shepherds endless glory,  
As is full-shown in this succeeding Story.   

To all loyal-hearted English Protestants which sincerely relish the power and purity of Christ's gospel, and zealously detest the damnable doctrines of Antichrist; J. V. wisheth the blessings of God's right hand, and of his left▪ the blessings of this life and of the life to come.  

THe richest rarest mercies, daily sent  
(Right Christian brethren) to us of this land,  
From God's o'erflowing grace, all-filling hand  
May be compared to th'Sun in firmament.   

Whose glorious rays all creatures hearts revive,  
Whose light enlightens all the world throughout,  
Whose heat doth cherish plants that spring and sprout,  
Whose shine to want doth us of joy deprive.   

Yet since, so daily, man doth it enjoy,  
Who is't (almost) that values it aright?  
Who yields due praise to heaven for heavens sweet light?  
O few or none. Abundance does us cloy.   

From whence, we (therefore) justly may conclude,  
That God's rich mercies, which we oft possess,  
Wherewith he daily, hourly doth us bless,  
We all receive with great ingratitude.   

I need not stand t'exemplify the same,  
It is a fault too frequent, too rank grown,  
And yet to God, more odious, there's not one,  
And which to Christians brings more smart and shame.   

Of spirituall-blessings, our thrice blessed Salvation  
Wrought by our Saviour, bought with's precious-blood,  
Was most divine, gave man his chiefest good,  
Was more admired than was the world's Creation.   

But, of all temp'rall-blessings we enjoyed  
Since God did form the Earth and heavenly frame  
To our deliverance, never greater came,  
When Rome by powder, would have us destroyed.   

How thankful for the first, to God we are  
I'll tax nonce conscience, but examine mine:  
But for the second, how we do decline  
From giving thanks to God, I may not spare,   

To tell you all (my Christian brethren dear)  
That, which if I should silence, senseless stones,  
('tis to be fe●r'd) would sound with mournful groans;  
England's ingratitude is too-too clear.   

For why? not only Popish Jebusites,  
Already do begin (as plain appears)  
To buzz, with brazen brows, into the ears  
And minds of their seduced proselytes.   

Yea and persuade too-many Protestants  
That there was never any powder-plot,  
But, that (we falsely) stain them with that spot  
The Cath'likes to disgrace with c●uslesse taunts.   

For this cause, therefore▪ I have ta'en in hand,  
Again to sing (to God's due praise and glory  
In this revived and most faithful Story)  
How powerfully God to our Church did stand.   

Which, now, at last (though, with much struggling) I,  
(By God's aid, in our pious Parliament)  
Have brought to public view, thus to prevent  
Our times dough- 
* Hos. 7. 4, 6, 7. D. Baker a late most impudent Apostate, who would not license this my history, because, as he said, we were not so angry with the Papists now a days (though we never had greater cause than in these our days) as they were 20. or 30. years ago, and one Mr. Crosfield a Senior fellow of Queen's college in Oxford, could not (as he endeavoured) get it licenced for the press there. Nor could Mr. Daniel▪ Cambridge Printer (who would have printed it there) get it licenced at Cambridge, Dr. Brumrick being than Vicechan. O tempora! O mores!  Bakers base malignity:   

Who, heated had their Oven, extremely▪ hot,  
To burn-up in oblivion's smoky-flame,  
The memory (to our eternal shame)  
Of this nefarious Popish powder-plot.   

And 'gainst which, though some temporizing-mind  
May scoff and scorn, in this my good intention,  
Though from Rome's favourites, nought but reprehension  
And taunting terms I shall (Unjustly) find,   

Though Rome doth curse me with bell, book and candle  
And like a galled-backed-jade doth kick and winch;  
Yet I their sores have laboured so to pinch,  
As in their nature, justly, them to handle.   

But, if to you (my brethren dear) I may  
For my poor labour kindly be respected,  
And from calumniators fangs protected  
I shall acknowledge this a rich repay.   

If I (hereby) may move and stimulate,  
Your Christian hearts to zealous detestation  
Of Rome's most impious foul abomination,  
And heavens rich mercies oft to ruminate,   

Chiefly, the great miraculous defence  
From this nefarious powder-plot of Rome,  
Wherein our King and kingdoms they did doom  
To dire destruction, fatal violence.   

Then, happy I (maugre Rome's worst despite)  
That God, hereby, may have due thanks and praise,  
That this occasion may men's hearts incite  
This fact, with fame to memorize always;  
Read then (Kind Reader) what's amiss amend,  
And kindly take the goodwill of thy friend,   
JOHN VICARS.   


To his very good Cousin M. JOHN VICARS, on his decasyllables a Decastich.  
THree mercies great proper to this our State  
My tongue, with praise to God shall still relate;  

a In the time of King Hen. 8th.  Salvation from Rome's tyranny and band,  

b In the time of Q. Elizabeth.  Safeguard from Spaniards proud insulting hand,  

c In the time of K. James.  safety from Popish-pouder-plots and trains:  
O! this deserves (if any) heavenly strains.  
Such strains are thine, thus streaming from thy quill,  
Which fain applaud I would, but want the skill.  
But what I want in skill to praise thy parts  
Shall be supplied by all true English hearts.  
THOMAS VICARS, olim Reginensis Oxon.   

The same hand (upon second thoughts) writeth his symphony, with the pious Author of this perpetual monument of God's mercy in our manifold and miraculous Deliverances from Popish machinations.  
To the READERS.  
What mischiefs to this Church & state  
The Pope and Popelings wrought,  
In former times and later days,  
Our men to light have brought,  
How GOD defeated all their plots  
And counsels vain detected,  
Here in this lasting-Monument  
Of praise to GOD erected  
You have to th'life, in brief, set-down,  
The just and true relation,  
And then to lay it to our hearts,  
Some moral observation.  
What fears within, what foes without,  
What death, what danger fell  
Did ever vexus, but it came  
By Rome and Spain from Hell?  
Rome, thou art drunk with blood, in vain,  
Thou Serpent-like dost rage  
Against the holy-Seed, which stand  
Most firm in every age.  
Thy water-forces, in the Fleet,  
Thy powder-plot in fire,  
Whereby thou mentest, in pride, on us  
To teem-out all thine ire:  
The Lord from Heaven scattered to smoke  
And did thy deeds deride,  
And made the actors mocking stocks,  
Throughout the world so wide.  
Thus we through fire and water went,  
For GOD was with us still,  
He fought our battles, saved our lives,  
And did our hopes fulfil.  
The Lord of hosts of Israel,  
For ever more doth reign;  
From time to time, from tide to tide,  
His praise shall aye remain.  
Sic concinit T. V. S. T. B.   

A Friend at a stand at his Friends work.  

Who reads this work, aread my wonder; tell  
What skill to verse a fact so ill, so well.   

Alias. The placet of his friend's Essay.  
OThers, thy zeal and vows, I praise thy skill;  
So well to lay the plot, Rome laid so ill:   

Another. Art's pyramids, from treason's powder-fire.  
What all fire hath, hath thine, black smoke, bright flame,  
The flame, thy Verse; the smoke, the traitor's name.  
Who can, decide; in which most time to spend;  
Or damn their smoke, or thy bright flame commend.   
Himself not yet determined. T. S. S. T. B.   

To my good friend M. JOHN VICARS.  

THy love to Truth I love, thy hate of errors,  
Thine honesty, thine industry, thy zeal  
For God, the king, the Church and common-weal,  
Against the rage of Rome's intended terrors.   

I like thy loathing of those Treason-stirrers,  
That for Apollyon, in these plots do deal  
With ghastly, ghostly fathers that conceal,  
Or rather counsel, so inhuman horrors.   

I praise thine authors and thine own desire  
To have recorded unto all posterity,  
Th' Ignatian-furies ignominious fire  
Flaming from hell against Christ's heavenly verity.  
In Fauks, Grants, Garnets, Winters, Catesby's, Percies,  
Let others praise thy vows, I praise thy Verses.   
JOSUAH SYLVESTER.   

In Viri, mihi fratris vice, JOHANNIS VICARSI dignissimos labores, {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman}.  
MIttor Apollineos ego parvulus inter alumnos  
Vt tibi pro libro laurea serta feram.  
Ne metuas Romae 
* jesuitas  larvas, lemuresve sequaces,  
Nec criticos, criticâ qui gravitate valent.  
Est liber ille tuus scelerato nomine liber,  
Perge igitur, libro praela subire tuo.   

Idem ad eundem.  
THou carping Momus, poison of good wits,  
I call not thee to give the author praise;  
Silence, I tell thee, better thee befits,  
Because, detraction is thy common-phrase:  
Thou canst not come and mend, yet must commend  
This work so neatly, by the author penned.  
THOMAS BRACKLEY, M. A.   

To his most affectionate kind Friend M. JOHN VICARS.  
THy Muse Rome's hellish traitors so displays,  
That they deserve the halter, she the bays.  
View her, all English hearts, with care; and than,  
Love Rome's faith (Black high-Treason) if you can.  
WILLIAM PRINNE. Gent.   

To my loving friend Mr. John Vicars, in praise of his praiseworthy work; encouraging him to discourage our enemies.  
I Saw thy work, should not I land the same,  
With Traitor thou Mayst justly brand my name.  
I saw thy work, and from my soul I vow,  
I think none honest will it disallow.  
I saw't, or Who else seesed, without commend,  
He is a Traitor or a traitor's friend.  
I saw and praise thy work, in spite of Rome,  
Hell and the Pope; I say 'tis sweetly done.  
I saw thy work, though thee I do not know,  
But, figs (I knew) on thistles could not grow.  
Courage (brave Spirit) thou hast done so well,  
Thou needst not fear Rome's candle, book or bell.  
Thou hast a Master, in whom's all our hopes,  
That will protect thee 'gainst a thousand Popes.  
Show it thy Master, than his censure past,  
Let others blow, regard not thou their blast▪  
But, tell them, yea, and tell them to their face,  
That they are Traitors, which do treason grace.  
Your Friend unknown NATHANIEL CHAMBER of Grays-inn Gent.   

In Authorem.  
LEt Rome with bell, book, candle, curse thy name,  
Thy hand, thy pen, the broachers of her shame;  
Pass not if good accept, though bad refuse,  
Religious hearts bid welcome to thy muse.  
It may be, some condemn thee; what's the reason?  
They hate thy work, because they loved the Treason.  
W. C. M. A.    

The names of the chief traitors that plotted and endeavoured this powder-treason.  

Jesuit Priests.  
Henry Garnet  
John Gerrard  
Osw. Tesmond  
Edward Hall.  
Hammon  
Wm. Baldwin.  
S Evera. Digby  
Rob. Winter.  
Tho. Winter.  
Guido Fauks.  
John Grant.  
Amb. Rookwood.  
Robert Keyes.  
Thomas Bates.  
Henry Morgan.  
Tho. Abington.  
S. Edm. Bainham.  
S. Wm. Stanley.  
Hugh Owen.   
Catesby, Thom▪ Percy, John Wright and Christo. Wright were slain in rebellious fight; the former two with a gun, the other two with halberds. Francis Tresham murdered himself in prison.   

To Momus or the carping-Catholike.  
LEt Zoylus bark and Momus carp,  
Let masspriests mumble and mutter,  
Let Romish-Jesuites rail and rage  
And all their venom utter:  
Yea, though they should with envy swell,  
And toadlike burst in sunder,  
Yet truth will shine and error pine,  
To Babel's woe and wonder.  
J. V.   

An Advertisement to the READER.  
Courteous READER,  
LEt me entreat thee to take notice, that whereas in this History thou shalt meet with a most material passage, which intimates the Papists most hellish purpose to have translated this plot from themselves on those whom the world impiously and injuriously terms Puritans; It hath pleased the Lord to give me this notable testimony of the truth thereof from two of my most loving Christian Friends, who, on my certain knowledge, were both so truly pious, as that they feared (as it is, Revel. 22.) to tell a lie, much more, to make a lie; the one being departed this life, the other yet surviving, both of them eminent Christians and Citizens of London. And this it is.   

TO THE RIGHT honourable Richard Gurney, Lord Major of London, the right worshipful S. Christopher Clethrow Knight, President of Christ's hospital, Sr. William Acton Knight and Baronet, Sr. Paul Pindar Knight, Alderman gore, Alderman Atkins, Alderman Pennington, Alderman Wollaston, Alderman Adam's, Alderman Warner, and the right worshipful Alderman Garret one of the Shrieves of London; All of them most worthy governors of christs-hospital▪ as also the worshipful Mr. John Babington Treasurer of the said hospital, Mr. Roger Drake. Sub-Treasu●er, M. Richard Aldworth; and to the rest of the most worthy governors thereof: John Vicars wisheth the kingdom of Grace here, and the kingdom of Glory hereafter.  
Right Honourable and Right worshipful,  
YOur constant Favours which I always find,  
Do me in all my best endeavours bind,  
Upon all fair occasions, to express  
My due and deeply bounden thankfulness,  
as well for past as present sweet-Supplies,  
Which from your blessed-House of charity's  
Poor Orphant-cheering-brests, myself have found,  
With Thousands-more, whom (else) distress had drowned  
In over flowing floods of Poverty,  
Our Parents poor being forced from us to fly,  
And leave us hopeless Imps, in helpless age  
To all earth's woes, fully, on us to rage.  
These, these (I say) indissoluble ties  
Of ancient and of modern Courtesies,  
Which to heaven's glory, here, memorate,  
Do me (Blessed Patrons) stir and stimulate,  
To dedicate and consecrate to You  
What ere I am or can, as Tribute, due  
To your full-Sea, from my small-Rivolet,  
Thus to repay some part of my great debt:  
And since I owe more than I know to pay,  
My humble-All rests to my dying-day  
Your Honours and Worships Sincerely to be commanded, JOHN VICARS.   

A Table of the Heads of the most material passages in this history.  

A  
ABsolution given to the Traitors in rebellion by Haman a Jesuit, pag. 63.  
Achab's sickness for Naboth's vineyard alluded to, 77.  
Allusion to the plot intended now in our days, which hath been discovered by this Parliament, 1641. 80.  
Aggravations of this plot, 42, 43, 44.  
An angel to Lord Morley, 37.  
Apprehension of Faux at the cellar, 41.  
Armado in 88 87.  
The Attempt of Grant a Traitor, 63.   

B  
BArons wars, 87.  
Bloody-builders of a bloody Church, 11.   

C  
CAtesby and others sit to plot a Treason, 10.  
Catesby the inventor of this powder Plot, 12.  
Catesby's project approved by all, 14.  
Catesby adviseth with Garnet, 16.  
Catesby and Percy bring news to the other Traitors of the plots discovery, 58.  
Catesby, Percy and Winter fight all 3 together, 72.  
Catesby's and Percies heads set on the Parliament house 74.  
A Cellar hired. 23.  
City of Coventry, 65.  
Consultation about the King's Children, 24.  
A countryman suspects the traitors in their hunting, 55.  
Coventry comforts the young Lady Elizabeth, 66.  
Court-traitors most dangerous, 81.   

D  
Dees's five, 98.  
Description of the plots effects had it taken, 26  
Discovery of the powder, 41.  
The devil's speech to the Traitors in Hell, 80.  
Description of the Hunt, 54.  
Divers treasons projected, 12.  
Dun-church-Heath, 53.   

E  
ENcouragements to Papists to the Treason, 11.  
Sr. Everard Digby's bounty towards the work of this Treason, 23.  
Sr. Everard Digby a chief hunter, 57  
Empedocles described and alluded to, 77.  
England the landmark of God's mercies, 86.  
England like Canaan, 88  
Equivocation, 100  
Exhortation to give all praise to God alone, 92.   

F  
FAmine, 88  
Faux the chief actor of this Treason, 5.  
Faux sent to the Pope, 21.  
Faux returns home, 22.  
Faux is imprisoned, 46.  
Faux sent to the Tower, 47.  
Faux frighted with the rack, 47.  
A Fore-running judgement, 69.  
A Fight pellmell, 71.  
Sr. Fulk Grevill, 64.   

G  
GArnet and Gerard two Priests, 14.  
Garnets answer to Catesby, 18.  
Garnets simile, 19  
Garnets Doctrine compared with Christ's, 20.  
Garnets opinion confirms the plot, 21.  
Garnets opinion of themselves, 60.  
God speaks to his angel, 31.  
Greenwell the priest's resolution, 60.  
Gunpowder, 13.   

H  
HAll a Jesuit startled, 60.  
Hall's devilish change and judgement on the fact. 62.  
Lord Harrington, 65.  
A holy Hunt, 54.   

I  
Jesuits' impudence, 61.  
Impossibility to escape the blow, 45.  
Impudence of Faux, 42.  
impudence of Faux at the Court being examined, 46.  
Ingratitude of England, 90.  
Introduction to the plots discovery, 31.  
Justice, 89.   

K  
KIng James succeeds Qu. Elizabeth in peace, 9  
King James interprets the Letters oenigma, 38, 39  
Sr. Thomas Knevet sent to search, 39  
The king's-evil, 101.   

L  
Londons' misery, 30.  
The Letter, 34.  
Littleton's house the traitor's refuge, 67.  
A Lie, 61.   

M  
martyrs of Rome, 63.  
Manna, 89.  
Motives four to plot a treason, 10.  
Lord Mounteagle, 33.  
Mounteagle goes to Court with the Letter, 37.  
Mounteagles servingman, 34.   

N  
Neroes' wish, 29.  
Nocents and Innocents, 17.  
November the 5t. 25.   

O  
OAth for secrecy and constancy in the plot, 15.  
Oration of Percy to his fellow Traitors, 59  
Observation remarkable, 78.   

P  
PArliament-House, 13.  
Parliament-House undermined, 22.  
Parliament-House, 33.  
Percy and Catesby stayed about Westminster to hear the event of things, 53.  
Percy and Catesby slain, 72.  
Perillus the Engineer, 71.  
Pestilence, 1628. 88  
Pope and devil Treasons Parents, 5.  
Provision of powder and fatal instruments, 25.  
Prayer for the King and State, 84.  
Puritans falsely to be accused as the traitors, 50, 51, 52   

Q  
Queen Elizabeth's death, 8.   

R  
REbellion attempted by the traitors, 60.  
Recapitulation of Rome's abominations, 85.  
Report of the treason is spread abroad, 46.  
Return of thanks to God our sole deliverer, 82.  
Remorse seeming in the traitors, 70.  
Rookwood and Winter are shot, 71.   

S  
SAcrament taken by the conspirators, 15.  
Search made, 39  
Simile, 28.  
Simile, 72.  
Simile, 83.  
Spanish king plotted withal in this Treason, 9  
Spanish king refuseth to aid the traitors, 9  
A Stone-wall hinders the traitor's work, 22.  
Supposition of the deed done, 30.  
suspicion of the Hunters by a friend, 56.  
A Smith smites Winter the Traitor, 64.  
The Steed being stolen shut the stable-door, 63.   

To  
TReason was the Pope's first-born Son, 2.  
Tressam's perjury, 49.  
The Traitors hunt Religion, 57  
The Traitors amazed to hear the Plot was discovered, 58.  
A Tray of powder fired among the Traitors, 69.  
The Traitors grow desperate, 71  
The Traitors apprehended, 73.  
The Traitors conveyed to London, 73.  
The Traitors arraigned, 73.  
Treason against Queen Elizabeth, 87.   

V  
Sr. Rich: Verney high-Shrieve, 64.   

W  
Sir▪ Rich: Walsh besiegeth the traitors, 68  
Winter sent into Spain to plot treason against Qu. Elizabeth, 7.  
Winter and Faux talk in the Tower, 48.  
winter's dream, 69  
Wrights both are slain, 71.  
Winter wounded in the belly, 73.   
FINIS.   

To my worthy Friend Mr. John VICARS.  
SIR,  
I Have here sent you a true relation most faithfully delivered as I received it from our dear deceased friend M. Clement Cotton, the author and Composer of the Concordance of the Bible, which is this. Lewis Pickering esquire of Tits-marsh-grove in the County of North-hampton, a Gentleman of an ancient and most noble Family, as being allied to Queen ELIZABETH by her mother's side, and was the secondman, that brought news to King JAMES into Scotland of Queen Elizabeth's death, and was afterward sworn his Servant. This Gentleman had a Sister that was married to Keyes one of the Popish conspirators, whereby there could not choose, but be much familiarity between them; By which keys most devilish contrivement, that hellish plot (had it taken effect) should have been translated from the Papists to the Puritans (as I had the Relation from the mouth of M. Clement Cotton, who also received it from the said M. Pickering himself in his life time) after this manner. This worthy religious Gentleman M. Pickering, being in great esteem with King JAMES, with whom he oft times rod a hunting, and as they rode, had frequent private conference, and informed the King above six months before that treason broke out, that the Papists had some notable villainy in hand, but what it was he could by no means learn. Now this said M. Pickering had a horse of special note, and well known among the Courtiers, on which he used to hunt with the King, a little before the blow was to be given, which his brother M. Keyes desired to borrow of him for some present special use, which he said he had for him, and it was somewhat probable to be for their pretended hunting on Dunsmow-heath, where many of the conspirators contrived a hunting match for divers days together a little before the blow was to be given, that so they might be near to come where the Lady ELIZABETH lay: But what ever keys pretence was, the horse so borrowed was conveyed to London, and there kept for another purpose, which thus was plotted. Faux on the day of the fatal Blow was appointed to retire himself into St. George's field, where this said horse was to attend him, to make his escape so soon as the Parliament House was blown up: It was likewise contrived that the said M. Pickering was that very morning to be murdered in his bed, and secretly conveyed away; as also that Faux himself should have been murdered in St. George's field, and there so mangled and cut in pieces as that it might not be discovered who he was; whereupon it was to be bruited abroad, that the Puritans had blown up the Parliament-House, and the better to make the world believe so, there was M. Pickering with his horse ready to make an escape, but that God stirred up some, seeing the heinousness of the fact, and he ready to escape by flight, in detestation of so horrible a deed fell upon him and killed him, and so had hacked him in pieces. And yet to make it more apparent to be so indeed, there was his horse found also, which was of special speed and swiftness to convey him away; and upon this rumour, a massacre should have gone through the whole kingdom upon the Puritans. But when this Plot thus contrived was confessed by some of the conspirators; and fauxes in the Tower was made acquainted with it, who had been born in hand to be bountifully rewarded for that his Service in the Catholic cause, when he saw how his ruin was contrived, he also thereupon confessed freely all that he knew touching that horrid and hideous conspiracy, which (before) all the torture of the rack could not force him to, &c. Thus I kindly rest,  
Your loving Friend W. PERKINS.   


The Cloud of Ignorance and error.  


Curses and excommunications  
The Armado in 88  
Daggors dogs Poison kill all.  
Blasphemies and Lies.  
Envy and malice.  
Recusancy and Rebellion.  
Opposing the Thruth.  
Falsification of Scriptures    
Frustra.   
Enclosed with Clouds of Ignorance and error,  
Rome, Hell and Spain do threaten England's terror;  
The Cardinal Legate, Jesuit, impious friars,  
homebred Recusant, Brittanes' bane desires:  
Each puffs and snuffs with Envy (All in Vain)  
At Christ's pure gospel, which shall still remain.   

THE QVINTESSENCE OF cruelty. AND masterpiece OF TREACHERY. THE POPISH powder-plot.  
PRoud Pluto, King of darkness, Prince of th' air,  
Became enamoured of Rome's Strumpet fair;  
His lustful pleasure on her to effect,  
From Hell to Rome, he forthwith doth direct  
A speedy Post, to bring her out of hand,  
O'er Styxes flood, where his black-court did stand;  
And Charon, hell's fierce ferry-man●●d charge  
To row her o'er Avernus in his bar●e.  
To hell she (thus) had quick and kind access,  
Where mutual-love their liking did express.  
straight, they enjoyed infernal copulation,  
Whose foul effects had present procreation.  
A base-born brat, Rome's whore, soon bred brought out▪  
An impious imp, most monstrous, proud and stout,  
A more than centaur strange, strong, fierce & fell,  
A most misshapen cursed fiend of hell,  
A brazenfaced, a marble-hearted frame,  
A devilish genius, Treason called by name.  
To Lerna's pool this purple-Strumpets doom,  
Was to return; where with the milk of Rome,  
Infectious milk, I say, of doctrines base,  
It fearfully was nursed, grew strong a pace.  
There, there, I say, did this fierce Hydra live,  
There, to this Monster, she did vigour give.  
No sooner was this offspring of the devil  
Fraught with Thessalian-spels, pride, mischief, evil,  
With Serpentine-deceit prompt to beguile,  
Yea, every-way an impious viper vile;  
But that his damned 
* The Pope.  Dam observes it well,  
What a sweet son she had begot from hell,  
How full of wit and Acherontine-art,  
Of unheard impudence to act the part  
Of any most transcendent treachery▪  
Of any most nefarious villainy;  
Him, therefore straight, she does most kindly greet,  
With oft and soft embraces, 
The Whore of Rome makes her complaint to her first born Son Treason.  kisses sweet,  
And hony-words, calling him by his name,  
Her mischief-thirsting thoughts she doth proclaim;  
Wrath boils within, revenge and fury's fire,  
And, thus to him unfolds her foul desire.  
Fair first-born-Son, whom art and heart have made  
The basis, bulwark, whence our hopes are stayed,  
Are firmliest founded and erected high,  
Without whose skill and will, we faint and die;  
Long have we in our sacred Cath'like chair,  
Even we thy holy-Mother, full of care,  
Sat mourning and bewailing (but in vain)  
The matchless loss which Rome doth (still) sustain,  
And long, yea, too-too-long hath felt and found,  
And therewith ta'en a desperate, deadly wound:  
I mean by England's foul apostasy,  
From Peter's chair to Luther's heresy;  
For, since that time, no land in Europe fair,  
Hath laboured, more, our welfare to impair,  
Hath born more open and intestine hate  
To our Apostolic, imperial-state,  
Than those damned heretics of Britan's nation,  
Endeavouring daily our dire extirpation.  
Alas (dear Son) 'tis woeful to declare,  
Yea, the mere thought does me even kill with care,  
To think how many mischiefs, by their fall,  
Like corrasives, our heart do grind and gall;  
Yea, how they daily strive to work our woe,  
Hoping t'effect our final overthrow.  
Their Scripture-goads our sides so deeply gore,  
Their textuall-tortures wound our heart so sore,  
That if we, timely, do them not prevent,  
Rome's last, least-drop of heartsblood will be spent▪  
Ay me, I grieve to think on our great loss,  
What Sums we did into our coffers toss.  
Whiles they were ours, what rends we did possess,  
What Zeal they did to Peter's chair express,  
What gain, by them, we found, strange to be spoke,  
How bounteously they made our chimney's smoke!  
What swarms of friars and Nuns, even numberless  
By them were fostered, love to us t'express,  
What stately monasteries with turrets high,  
What Temples fair, whose steepls touched the sky!  
Did they then spare most sumptuously to build,  
With relics richly garnished and filled,  
For holy Votaries and Virgins chaste,  
Whom we with Saints and Angels blessed have placed.  
Whose deep devotion was (sweet Son) so great,  
As it had been our second-Sons, Spain's Seat.  
By them our holy-mass, great Pluto's lore,  
Was gorgeously bedecked, him to adore.  
In every city each fair wealthy seat,  
Hath been possessed by our champions great;  
In every country, each most fertile soil,  
On them conferred without cost or coil.  
I tell thee (Son) this only Albions-Isle  
Through daily discord, variance, fraud and guile,  
Which, twixt them raised, for bribes, we quickly ceased,  
Hath Rome's revenues mightily increased.  
Not specious France, nor spacious Germany  
Came near to this, for our utility.  
And thinkst thou, than, I can with patience brook,  
So rich a prey to be, thus, from me took?  
And only by damned Luther's heresy,  
That turncoat caiti●s matchless villainy?  
Shall I put-up these heavy losses so,  
And ope a gate to greater overthrow?  
No, no, irrevocable is my doom,  
I'll be revenged, not cease, till they consume,  
But, lest too-long, with tedious ambages,  
I tire thine ears, thy thoughts too-long disease,  
It now behooves us forthwith to be wise,  
And how to cross and curb them to devise.  
Yea, now, I see that our declining hope  
Bids us not linger, nor give longer scope:  
Bids us advised be and counsel take,  
Intricate snares, with unheard craft to make,  
On Pluto's anvil strange wiles, now to frame,  
And subtle Stratagems, to work their shame,  
All practices to prove, no shifts to shun,  
Whereby our glorious welfare may be won.  
Wherefore (sweet Nursling) ease us of this moan,  
For all our hopes consist in thee alone.  
In thee alone (I say) our great intent  
Expects to find a fortunate event.  
So expert art thou Treason to contrive,  
So apt whole Kingdoms vitals to deprive,  
So exactly practised in thy 
* The devil.  father's skill,  
So well acquainted with thy 
* The Pope.  mother's will.  
Nimble thou art without or stop or study  
To plot a mischief be it e'er so bloody,  
Horrid or hateful; yea a King or Nation  
To ruinate with matchless devastation;  
To swear, forswear, cousin and equivocate,  
By mine instructions rarely literate.  
Then, hast with speed (Allecto be thy guide)  
To Britain, big with insolence and pride;  
Be it just or unjust, leave no means unwrought,  
That to our ancient yoke they may be brought.  
Then Rome's officious, most pernicious son,  
Replies but this; dear Mother count it done.  
Then, like swift Tiber, without least delay,  
With vulture's appetite he takes his way,  
To England, where to fit his enterprise,  
A Priest-like habit shapes his best disguise,  
A gown all guarded with religious lace,  
The catholic-cause is vizard for his face.  
And marvel not, for, thus the devil doth use,  
Like Angel-bright God's children to abuse.  
And thus, within 
* Fauks is not here first mentioned, as the prime author; but because he was so inhuman as to be the fatal actor of this intended Tragedy, for Catesby (as is afterward shown) was the first author of this powder-treason.  Guy Fauks his faithless breast,  
He harbour finds, and is a welcome guest;  
A man to mischief prompt, incarnate devil,  
Swift to shed blood, active to any evil.  
With envy stuffed and puffed, sly, malcontent,  
Dissembling Sinon, double-diligent:  
Whose name he ever changed with his place  
Of residence, like Proteus various face,  
Foster, sometimes, Johnson and Brown, he'll be,  
To pass unknown, suspicion (thus) to flee;  
His name, not nature; habit, not his heart;  
He takes, forsakes, as best befits his part.  
Here (now) Rome's base-born brat makes no delay,  
But, farther flings, works others to his bay;  
Whose hearts already hankered very sore,  
(Like muttering Israel) after Babel's whore,  
For Egypt's fleshpots, and with factious thirst,  
To quaff Rome's poison, till their bellies burst.  
These doth he stir with spur of innovation,  
And charms them (thus) with hellish incantation,  
With high-built hopes (thus) labours to persuade them,  
And with these sly delusions doth invade them.  
The day so long desired, your foes to foil,  
To plunge them deep in matchless, helpless toil,  
Is, now, comn-on, wherein base Calvin's rout,  
And Luther's vassals you may clean root-out  
Rome's walls to rear and ruins to repair,  
To make her splendour shine, her beauty fair,  
Her enemies triumphantly to bane,  
Rome's rare Religion strongly to maintain.  
Straight, they, to Sinon's sugared words do vow,  
Theirs and themselves unto his beck and bow.  
This good success adds fuel to the fire,  
To Court he (Therefore) comes with foul desire,  
His doctors hellish Documents to broach,  
And into favour, hopes, there to encroach.  
There this bilingued-Sinon ramps about,  
Most sedulous and serious to find-out  
The man he longed to see; whom straight he found,  
A wished companion, traitor most profound.  
Percy, infected, yea of treason confected,  
And even by nature thereunto addicted.  
A graceless guardian to his gracious King,  
A fiery forge to frame each traitorous thing;  
A most bold bondslave to his holy Pope,  
A strong supporter of Rome's hellish hope.  
To whom Fauks openeth each material thing,  
Assures good-luck, the work to pass to bring:  
Who, man and message, presently, embraceth,  
And, in his love, much confidence, soon placeth.  
Then, each to other, they themselves fast tie,  
What, neither had, faith and fidelity,  
They mutually do promise to fulfil,  
Like Pilate and proud Herod, Christ to kill.  
Then, as their pledges, each gave hand to others,  
And here, were made treasons chief sworn-brothers.  
Perfidious Percy, and false Fauks made one,  
Fauks must (forsooth) be Percies servant known,  
His name being chang●d; thus, Mr, and the man  
Their projects, throughly, do discuss and scan.  
And thus, disguised, in this sly unknown hew,  
Securely they their rancorous poison spew,  
And now with Fauks and Percy, Catesby met,  
An ancient traitor soon on mischief set;  
Whose heads, hearts, hands and all, plod and contrive  
Some horrid treason how to make to thrive;  
Some strange, domestic-deluge to ordain,  
Since (now) their hopes were frustrated in Spain.  
For why, long since, in sweet Eliza's days,  
That Paragon of time; times peerless praise;  
They had sent 
* Thomas Winter was sent into Spain in Qu. Eliz. days by Catesby an arch-traitor.  Winter to the King of Spain,  
To crave his aid their mischiefs to maintain,  
Our kingdom to invade and to possess,  
Rome's power (here) to replant, their wrongs redress;  
Assuring him that in his puissant aid  
The English-Cath'liks would be parties made;  
The King (that time) promised with them to join  
And that he'd furnish them with store of coin,  
An hundred thousand crowns he would bestow,  
And being Victor, them all favour show.  
And, this desired; that if the Queen did die,  
He might have knowledge of it instantly,  
For, thereupon, he would his power advance,  
And speedily prevent sinister chance.  
This was on bothsides promised and concluded,  
But, Heaven, in mercy, all their hopes deluded.  
Then, then (I say) did Spain intend our doom,  
Together with the proud high-Priest of Rome,  
When as, 
Q. Elizabeth.  That miserable-Woman died,  
For, thus, the Pope had termed her in his pride;  
But, O nefarious liar, how could She  
Unhappy or so miserable be?  
Whom, neither th'arrow, which by day did fly,  
Nor Pestilence, by night, to wit, Rome's sly  
And secret practised treasons, ere, could quail,  
Nor yet th'Armado, mighty spanish-sail.  
Who in herself and subjects was most blessed,  
Whose kingdom, while she lived, enjoyed sweet rest,  
Full peace and plenty, princely-royalty  
With people's love and cordial-loyalty.  
Thus Rome and Spain lay gaping, but in vain,  
To see fair England's lustre in the wain.  
But, now, behold, a wonder you shall hear,  
That glorious- 
* Sol occubuit, nox nulla secuta est.  Sun did set in this our sphere,  
And yet although our Sun did so go-down,  
No night ensued, no cloud did on us frown,  
No loss appeared, only a change we had,  
Which many (then) neer-dying-hearts made glad.  
For why, in our horizon did arise  
Another 
* K. James  Jubar-bright to cheer our eyes,  
King James succeeded as a glorious-Sun,  
In whom his subjects joy, a fresh begun;  
Their happy days, again, did sprout and flourish,  
And, with the milk of peace their hearts did nourish.  
But, malcontent, malignant Catesby's heart,  
Together with his mates hereat did smart,  
With galling-grief, to see their hopes so thwarted.  
These accidents they (Therefore) soon imparted  
Unto the King of Spain, 
They send again to the King of Spain.  as was agreed,  
Requesting (now) his promised aid with speed,  
Protesting that their hearts were all on fire  
Firmly t'effect both his and their desire,  
To serve him in this great negotiation,  
If he would second them with supportation.  
For why, they said, they (now) began to doubt  
That things were like aversly to break-out,  
And that the English-cath'liks' cause was worse,  
Because king James held-on the late Queen's course.  
But, Spain, grown (now) more politic than so,  
And well perceiving how the cards would go,  
(A cunning-gamester) bent himself for peace,  
With England, 
The King of Spain refuseth to aid them.  wishing them their suit to cease.  
Whose unexpected answer did them trouble,  
Yet did their malice and their rancour double,  
With most infernal rage their hearts did burn,  
What course to take, which way themselves to turn.  
And when they saw all foreign hopes forsook them  
Unto this powder-treason they betook them.  
And now that furious fierce triplicity, 
The traitors sit in counsel to plot a treason.   
Those impious brethren in iniquity,  
Catesby and Percy, Fauks, together met,  
Their hellish hearts for mischief (now) to whet.  
Then Catesby, special author of this ill,  
Their thoughts with traitorous poison (thus) did fill▪  
Right trusty friends, 
Catesby begins.  since now we private are,  
My mind to you I freely will declare.  
My swelling-tympany of hate is such,  
My discontent and grief of heart so much,  
To see our Holy Father so neglected,  
And how small hope to have him e'er respected,  
Within this Kingdom (for I plainly see  
The late Queen's courses will maintained be.  
I see (I say) and to our grief we find  
King James is like to prove to us unkind.)  
That therefore 'tis high time to take advice,  
(And herein we must not be fondly nice,  
Nor with faint-hearted fear must we proceed)  
To pluck-up and supplant this growing weed,  
For when a wound is grown much putrified,  
The sharper medicines must thereto be plied.  
Four strong inducements hereunto have we, 
4 Motives to the plot   
In whose firm truth we all instructed be.  
First, that the King, and all his Subjects, are  
Vile heretics, fit (Therefore) for the snare.  
Next, hence, we know our great highpriest of Rome  
Them excommunicate, accursed doth doom.  
A third motive, which does our fact maintain,  
Is, that no heretic ought, king to reign.  
And lastly, that it is a work most glorious,  
Yea, a most holy act and meritorious,  
To extirpate, destroy and quite root-out  
This King and his heretical base rout.  
O then, dear friends, why stand we to demur?  
Let this, to us, be a sharp goad and spur,  
Why fear we? faint we? Doubt we to go-on?  
Let this incite our resolution,  
Namely, 
Encouragements to treason.  that we in Rome's rare rubrics shall  
Our name eternize and our fame install;  
That Rome (I say) will ever us account,  
The Wings, whereon, her glory did remount;  
Re-edifiers of Saint Peter's rites,  
This hope, this hap, our valiant hearts incites;  
To be such Fosterers and such fautors strong,  
Thus to redeem ourselves, our Saints from wrong.  
See, here (good Reader) see what course they take,  
The Pope, their romish-idol, great to make;  
To setup irreligious adoration, 
Coacta fides vix vera fides.   
To work truths shipwreck and dire extirpation.  
O must our blood be spilled, our King be slain?  
And many death-door-knocking Souls complain?  
O divellish-doctrin, whence such fruits do flow!  
O miserable souls seduced so!  
David a good man to God's own heart made,  
To God to build a Temple was gainsaid,  
And all because his hands were full of blood,  
Yea, though his battles were both just and good:  
And yet must Rome's base bondslaves under-take  
With blood, 
bloody builders of a bloody Church  yea must they their oblations make  
With blood of God's anointed Saints elect,  
Not Gods, but belial's Temple to erect?  
Rome's faithless Synagogue to readvance,  
Full stuffed with pride, error and ignorance?  
Then cursed Cain might also think it good,  
To please the Lord with Abel's guiltless blood.  
And Jeroboam might have hope to please,  
And with his Idols God's wrath to appease.  
But far be this from each true Christians thought,  
For woe be to the work which blood hath wrought.  
Woe unto those which zions groundwork lay  
With crying blood; 
Psa. 83.  thus doth king David say.  
But yet, these Romish— Absaloms', past grace,  
Would seem than God more wise, like Atheists base,  
Or else, with David's fool, do say in heart,  
There is no God to pay them their desert.  
For, instantly, at Catesby's cursed oration,  
They vow revenge with ardent protestation.  
And thereupon, being filled with hellish craft,  
They counsel take, each shoots his deadly shaft.  
Some, this way would their will effect; some, that,  
But dire destruction eachone aimed at.  
Ones vile opinion was, 
Diverse treasons projected  with sword or knife,  
The guiltless king to rob of his sweet life.  
Another would perfidiously him slay  
With powerful poison. Then a third did say  
When he by hunting, tired, to sleep did lay-him,  
Pretending friendly-harbour, he would slay-him.  
Medusa's 
* Catesby.  son sat silent, all this while,  
His heart being hatching a transcendent wile;  
Hears their opinions, counts them all but shallow.  
He had a gulf found out a Realm to swallow.  
I mean that caitiff Catesby, who at last,  
From's poisonous stomach (thus) this vomit cast.  
True zealous Cath'liks, 
Catesby strikes the stroke.  Rome's approved friends,  
My heart your fervour worthily commends,  
Your love you show, but yet, believe me this,  
Me thinks, you all do point the way amiss.  
For that which you advise doth doubtless bend  
And more to our than their destruction tend.  
So small attempts bring danger, we'll contrive  
To leave nor boughs, nor branch, nor root alive.  
For, what though we the King-alone destroy,  
Leaves he not after him, a Prince t'enjoy  
His Crown▪ and sceptre? a most hopefell heir,  
To take revenge, as we may justly fear;  
A Prince, I say, of pregnant, sprouting hope:  
Then, let us not give vengeance so great scope,  
Great flames have grown & burnt-down cities fair,  
Even by small sparks, left kindling without care.  
This young Prince Henry to my mind doth call  
Revolting Henry th' eighth, that chief of all  
Did work our holy-Fathers downfall first,  
A deed most heinous, hateful and accurst.  
Whose odious name may ere be execrable,  
And t'all good catholics abominable.  
Wherefore, this is my mind and constant doom,  
To extirpate and utterly consume  
This Seed heretical, which bears such hate  
To royal Rome's imperial fair estate.  
Now, that this stratagem may prosperous be,  
With patience tend and lend your ears to me. 
The Parliament-House.   
An ancient house there is near situate  
To Percies house, whither in princely state,  
To parley about the Kingdoms great affairs,  
England's chief Peers and counsel grave repairs,  
The Nobles, Bishops, Knights and Burgesses,  
In Parliament to give their suffrages;  
Thither also (as custom doth maintain)  
The King, Queen, Prince & all their princely train,  
The first day of the Parliament do go,  
Most sumptuously, making a glorious show,  
In scarlet robes, glistering with pearl▪ and gold,  
Great multitudes assemble it to behold.  
Under this house we closely may prepare  
An undermined vault, and fill that snare  
With plenteous store of gunpowder most fierce,  
Which, 
gunpowder.  like a mighty whirlwind, quick may pierce  
And pull in pieces and blow-up to th'skies'  
The cursed corpse of those our enemies,  
Of King and counsellors of Prince and Peer;  
Your liking and consent (now) let me hear.  
With joint consent and great content they all, 
Catesby's opinion approved by them all.   
Laud and applaud this diabolical,  
This horrid, hateful, hideous, foul invention;  
Yea traitorous Fauks with nimble apprehension,  
Finding the drift thereof. 
Fauks.  O thus (Says he)  
The House which Rome hath spoilt, shall spoiled be▪  
Thus we (says he) for our dear Cath'like truth,  
Shall fill our foes with horror, woe and ruth.  
Thus we shall canonised be and much renowned▪  
Whiles we our foes supplant and quite confound;  
Thus, those (I say) which 'gainst us made sharp laws,  
Shall gripped be within fierce vengeance paws;  
Thus, those which quondam used to prosecute  
And Rome's pure-Priests and Saints did persecute▪  
These, these (I say) made proud by our rich spoils▪  
Shall tumble headlong in our nets and toils.  
Now heerupon, 
Garnet & Gerrard, Priests.  more Copesmates they invite,  
Amongst the rest Gerrard a Jesuit;  
Chiefly to Garnet they this plot impart,  
An expert doctor in the Jesuits art.  
Gray-headed, but green-hearted traitor right,  
Superior of the Priests, whose very sight,  
Was a strong warrant to confirm and prove  
This enterprise: so did they prize his love!  
Whom, as a demigod, they all respected,  
Without whose counsel, nothing was effected;  
And, whose advice confirmed all they did,  
Did what he would; left, what he should forbid.  
O most satanical, nefarious doctors!  
Antichrist's chaplains, Lucifer's arch-proctors!  
Can ye for shame, assume the sacred name  
Of Jesus Christ, and yet his grace disclaim?  
Can ye with titles, seem so holy, pure,  
And yet your lives so stain and so enure  
yourselves and followers how to kill and slay  
All such as do your Jesabell gainsay?  
Can they (said I?) yes that they can. Nay, more,  
They'll brag and boast therein, yea aid implore  
Of God above from whom none ill proceeds,  
To prop and patronage accursed deeds.  
These, even these holy Fathers of that Sect,  
Confirm the plot, advise, instruct, direct.  
From sacrilegious Gerrard's hand they took,  
For Secrecy, this-Oath, upon a book.  

The Oath.  
YOu shall swear by the blessed-Trinity, 
They swear secrecy and constancy in the business.  and by the Sacrament you now purpose to receive; never to disclose directly or indirectly, by word or circumstance, the matter, which shall be proposed to you to keep secret, nor desist from the execution thereof, until the rest shall give you leave.   
This Oath did Catesby, Percy, Thomas Wright,  
And Kit Wright take, at once, to th'Jesuite.  
Bates, catesby's-man, and all the rest beside,  
From Greenwell, 
They receive the Sacrament for more full assurance.  Priest, took it, another-tide.  
Then, for a yet more firm ratification,  
(Right Judas-like) they took their own damnation.  
For, every-one, to knit the faster band,  
Received the Sacrament from those priest's hand.  
O Heavens! O Earth! O impious age and times!  
Were ever known like blasphemous foul crimes?  
O graceless, godless, more than devilish fact!  
So damnably t'abuse that sacred act!  
Of man's terrestrial comfort, confirmation  
Of faith, of grace, and of man's blessed salvation!  
Nay, will you (yet) hear more impiety,  
Equal (almost) to deepest villainy?  
Inhuman Catesby, each-way to prevent  
(As fondly he supposed) all discontent,  
Which might in his or any's heart arise,  
About full-warrant of this enterprise;  
To give the action, yet, more strong protection,  
Casts in his thoughts to answer each objection.  
For why, he now considered in his mind,  
That he could not a way contrive or find,  
But that in this great slaughter they should make,  
Their friends must equally with foes partake.  
The lawfulness hereof since some might doubt,  
And so perchance stagger or else stand-out:  
Therefore he hasts to his Achitophel,  
That outside angel, inside devil of hell,  
Grand-jesuit Garnet, his advice to have,  
To whom in all doubts, they most credit gave;  
Whose answer, if it to his mind did hit,  
He knew all was cocksure and firmly fit.  
Then, 
Catesby to Garnet.  in this sort, to Garnet he began,  
O holy Sir, whose discreet counsel can  
Resolve all doubts, dissolve heart-daunting fears  
By wisdom, learning, gravity and years,  
In whom Rome's sanctimonious oracles  
Are powerful in effecting miracles.  
Vice-Vicar to our Deified Father,  
Highpriest of England, thither sent, to gather,  
To reunite and to Rome's fouled reduce  
The wandering flock withheld (thence) by abuse  
Of cursed Calvin's, Beza's, Luther's sect,  
Whose damned Doctrines do their souls infect;  
O thou, I say, vicegerent to our Pope,  
Whose holy-counsel in an anxious hope,  
I much desire, gladly would impetrate,  
In a great action, which to perpetrate,  
Many of us devoted Catholics  
Have joined and sworn ourselves 'gainst heretics.  
Rome's sacred Zeal hath so inflamed our hearts,  
To vulnerate with penetrating darts,  
The souls of those who heretofore have long  
Done unto Rome intolerable wrong.  
Which we considering, seriously in mind,  
And that 'tis like, we worse and worse shall find,  
We vow to work our freedom from this woe,  
To give our foes one fatal, final blow;  
Wherewith their souls and bodies shall be sent,  
By sulphur fierce, to Pluto's regiment.  
But herein, holy-Sir, the doubt remains,  
That time and place this action, so constrains,  
That all at once must perish in one fire:  
Herein (Therefore) your counsel we desire,  
To clear this doubt, which herein doth arise,  
Whither our friends may die with enemies? 
Nocents and innocents.   
Whither: with nocents, innocents may die,  
(For, in that place are both promiscuously)  
We cannot possibly cast or contrive  
The one from th'other how to save alive;  
Yet on this facts effecting doth depend,  
Of Rome's great wrongs, the happy, hopeful end.  
This Pseud-Apostle full of Rome's affection,  
Travelling with iniquities conception,  
Brought forth the imp of mischief; thus doth heal  
Base Catesby's sore, with diabolike zeal.  
Hear, o ye heavens, harken both God and man,  
How holily this Baals-Priest began.  
First, with accurst-salutes, they oft embrace,  
And then with poisonous heart and brazen-face,  
(Hyena with the crafty Crocodile)  
He utters words most impious, false and vile;  
With green-device, not gracious grave advice,  
Thus spoke this hellhound, 
Garnet to Catesby.  Romish Cockatrice.  
O thou dear darling to the Church of Rome,  
Which so high honour dost to thee assume,  
As by a fact, so meritorious, rare,  
To be protector of Saint Peters-chair!  
Thou Atlas of our (now) succeeding joys,  
Herculean-chaser of our sharp annoys!  
Matchless Maecenas of Rome's doctrines rare,  
Perillus, the engineer cannot compare  
With cunning Catesby, arts-master of treason,  
For stratagems past human reach and reason.  
I cannot choose but like and love thee dearly,  
And yet much marvel thou couldst not see clearly  
Of so rare enterprise, so blessed intents,  
(O apt proficient in Rome's documents)  
The strong inducements to perseverance,  
Not to desist for some ill-petty-chance.  
I see thou art not (yet) so inly seen  
Into the Jesuits doctrines: raw and green  
Thy knowledge is; not regulated right,  
That mak'st a monster of a little mite.  
That in smooth-bulrushes dost seek a knot,  
Like questionists who ask they know not what.  
The case is most apparent, clear and plain,  
That, since occasion, time and place constrain,  
Such expedition to so high-desire,  
And such advantage Rome shall (thence) acquire,  
You may most justly by the rules of Rome,  
Some innocents with nocents vile consume.  
And, herein thee more strongly to instruct,  
That, none 'gainst this assertion may reluct,  
And to repel all objects in this kind,  
That in thy Creed it may more credit find;  
Mark this comparison which thou shalt hear,  
Whereby this truth will clear as Sun appear. 
Garnets simile.   
As in a town, besieged by fierce foes  
Which doth some friends (inhabitants) enclose,  
To whom, the general, in love was bound;  
Yet, how to help them no means could be found,  
Delays would danger breed inevitable,  
And so the town might prove unconquerable.  
Should he not (then) from due discretion swerve?  
Whiles in fond pity, few friends to preserve,  
He a whole town (to him most turbulent)  
Should, thus, let-go, some few friends to content.  
Would not his foes within, him, dastard deem?  
Yea, all, them sots, not soldiers stout esteem?  
If (then) hereby, our Church much good may gain,  
Some friends with foes may fearlessly be slain.  
And as for me, the best that I can do,  
Which is my prayers and Orisons for you,  
And your so high design; I most devout,  
Will duly, truly, to the heaven's pour-out,  
And all our Saints and meritorious martyrs  
Implore, to aid you and your zealous partners.  
O most pernicious Priest! O Scythian sect!  
Do you with blood your followers, thus infect?  
Is this the charity you all profess?  
Your false conceived wrongs (thus) to redress?  
Now how this Jesuits judgement doth agree  
With Jesus doctrine, 
Garnets doctrine compared with Christ's doctrine.  you shall briefly see.  
When God with sinful-man vouchsafed to talk,  
Told he not Abraham, that if ten just folk  
In Sodom could be found; his wrath he'd stay,  
And would not all, in his just vengeance, slay:  
But, for those righteous sakes would mercy show.  
But ghostly Garnet was more wise than so.  
Did not the heavenly husbandman declare  
His sacred mind, touching the wheat and tear?  
Since, both grew-up, to let them both alone:  
But of this husbandry, Garnet will none.  
Doth not St. Paul, doth not all Scripture show,  
No evil ought be done that good may grow?  
Was it not Mercies majesty and joy,  
That none of his he brought unto annoy?  
Not one was lost: saying he came to save,  
Not to destroy, whom God unto him gave.  
But yet, Loiola's Priests more wise do grow,  
They hold it lawful to kill friend or foe.  
Though Peter may not strike in Christ's defence,  
Yet Popish-Priests may use all violence.  
Catesby was heerwith (now) full satisfied;  
And glad that all things to his thoughts complied,  
For, now he judged himself most strongly able  
To settle his man Bates his mind unstable.  
For Catesby noted, how he, jealously  
Observed each-passage, with anxiety;  
And saw how Rookwood was amazed in mind,  
And touched in conscience that he had combined  
To ta●e away and let-out so much blood;  
And that they-both, much wavering, thereon stood;  
He therefore told them that most certainly,  
He was resolved by good authority,  
No less than Garnets, their chief Jesuit,  
That with good-conscience, void of least affright,  
They might destroy nocents and innocents, 
Garnets opinion confirms all.   
Rather than leave-off their so high intents.  
With which assurance they were satisfied,  
And so resolved all hazards to abide.  
Now, then to Rome is Fauks sent, privily,  
Unto the Pope, 
Fauks is sent to the Pope.  their plot to signify,  
To make-known to his holiness with speed,  
From first to last, how all things did proceed.  
His holiness his traitorous Son commended,  
Persuades to persevere till all were ended;  
Assures success and fortunate conclusion;  
And so dismissed this Master of Confusion,  
With benediction and a bounteous gift.  
Then, rapid Tibris-like, he flies full swift,  
Visits his ancient friends and old acquaintance,  
I'th' Duke of Austria's Court, with welcome entrance:  
Whereas he meets with many fugitives,  
Questioning how each thing in England thrives.  
And banished Shavelings of our English nation,  
Greedy to hear of change and alteration;  
With sanguinary Nero, who desire  
Their country's grace extinct with sword & fire.  
Monsters of men, like those who love to angle  
In troubled-waters, discord, strife and wrangle.  
These, these (I say) pricked forward him that ran,  
And contribute to help what he began,  
Furnishing him with counsel as with coin;  
Brothers in mischief, heads and hearts do join:  
His head they fill with cunning, craft and guile,  
His heart, to hatch, his tongue to lie, they file;  
They teach him, how, with demonology,  
To hide the platform of this ●reachery.  
Like furious hag, 
Fauks returns home.  he home returns most bold,  
And to his master Percy doth unfold  
His good success, and prays they might proceed  
With expedition to this hellish deed;  
For he was stuffed with all the arts and arms  
That Rome could yield, or Acherontine charms.  
They, having (now) with blasphemous intent,  
(As is fore-shown) received the Sacrament,  
And, bound themselves by oath, to act their parts,  
To hear plutonic-mass, their murderous hearts  
They, them prepare; which done, they all desire,  
Now, to proceed to build this furious fire.  
And hereupon, some choice-men they select,  
Whose charge should be, with diligent respect,  
The Parliament to dig and undermine, 
They begin to undermine the Parliament.   
Who furnished were with bakd-meats, beer & wine,  
That so they might not (oft) go in or out,  
Fauks, at the door stood sentinel or scout,  
Who still discovered all that passed by,  
And marked occurrents with a watchful-eye;  
And warning gave, as he occasions spied,  
Sometimes to work, sometimes to lay aside.  
Thus, to the work, themselves they closely gave,  
And by their sides, their pieces charged they have:  
Resolving there to die, if so it happed,  
That by discovery they should be entrapped.  
These pioneers through Percies chamber brought  
Th' exhausted Earth, to dig a hollow-vault,  
Conveying-out great baskets full of clay,  
And of the house, the groundwork took away.  
But lo, at last, an obstacle they found,  
A thick stone-wall they met-with in the ground, 
They find a thick stone-wal   
Full 3 yards thick, which with much industry  
Though with great doubt and deep anxiety,  
They having half-wrought-through, they easily heard  
A rushing noise of Charcoal, which them feared,  
That they discovered were; strait Fauks was sent  
To see what all that noise and rushing meant,  
Who finding that the coals were selling-out  
And that the cellar might (past fear and doubt)  
Be hired by them, as a place most fit  
For their design: He Percy told of it,  
Who, seeing its most pat-conveniency,  
And under th'upper-house, 
A Cellar hired.  immediately  
He hired the Cellar for a yearly rent,  
And with a traitorous heart and foul intent  
Feigned to fill't with charcoal, wood and beer,  
From all suspect themselves to cloak and clear.  
Here now they did consider Catesby charge,  
Upon whom (hitherto) with love too-large,  
The cost of all this coil had chiefly lain,  
Wherefore, to forward this their deep design,  
Sr. Everard Digby's bounty did abound, 
S. Everard Digby.   
Who to it, promised fifteen hundred pound.  
Then traitorous Tressam his great zeal t'express,  
Two-thousand pounds would have in readiness,  
To be employed in each necessity,  
To prop this work of Popish-piety.  
Percy to pierce the eye of Church and State,  
Did also promise he'd associate  
And bear a part in this so rare collection;  
Four thousand pounds at least, with pure affection,  
He from Northumberlands great rents would get,  
And all things orderly dispose and set.  
Others, both horse and armour would provide,  
Others procure an Army 'gainst the tide;  
Wherewith they might destroy and quite deprive,  
With fury great, the rest that did survive,  
Of life and liberty and their best treasure,  
Even Christ's pure-gospel, their souls precious pleasure.  
Such was the hatred of this holy-brood,  
Such the effects of their nefarious mood!  
Among them (then) was this objection made  
That since the Prince (as could not be gainsaid)  
Would be in Parliament: 
A consultation among the traitors touching the King's children.  How best might be,  
The next-heir to surprise? But, Percy, he  
Soon freed them of this care, and undertaken  
With his bold mates to cease upon the Duke.  
For, this they had resolved, with firm decree,  
That the King's issue-male destroyed should be.  
Next how to get into their custody,  
(O hellish guardians of such royalty!)  
The precious Princess, fair Elizabeth,  
Then, with Lord Harrington by Dunchurch-heath;  
Together with the Princess Mary fair,  
And having got this royal female-pair,  
Elizabeth they would their Queen proclaim,  
And on her person sequel projects frame.  
At Dunchurch (Therefore) they'd a hunt pretend,  
And friends (there) meeting, might that business end.  
Lastly, they all consult and take advice,  
What foreign Prince, they heerto might entice?  
What English Lords and noblemen to save,  
Who of this kingdom, should possession have?  
Of these, and all these circumstances, they  
Firmly resolved against the pointed-day.  
Each thing, thus, happening to them, passing-well;  
To Fauks (whom, we, not man, but hag of hell  
May justly term, a title best befitted)  
The final, fatal-blow was (then) committed,  
This ghastly, ghostlike-monster, night by night,  
To th' Cellar went, all things to order right.  
Which Cellar (now) they filled had, 
The provision of gunpowder & instruments of destruction.  complete,  
With firkins, barrels and with hoggs-heads great.  
Thirty and six with gunpowder all stuffed,  
Which should earths entrails to the skies have puffed.  
Lord, what a puff, what a combustious flame,  
What motion, what commotion by the same,  
Had from the Earth, into the air been raised,  
Hell's stoutest furies to have made amazed?  
And yet to make the blow more strangely fierce,  
More desperately the corpse to pash and pierce;  
Upon the barrels they had laid also,  
Great crows of iron to increase the blow,  
And massie-stones and logs had placed thereon,  
Right underneath the Kings and Prince's throne.  
And to prevent the danger of suspect,  
That none those Stygian engines might detect,  
These traitorous hellhounds with Medaea's guile,  
Great store of billets thereupon did pile,  
And faggots; so the gunpowder to hide,  
That it could not without great search be spied.  
Thus having framed this Chaos of confusion,  
This sevenfold heated furnace: For conclusion  
Of England's fatal-doom, they (now expect  
The long-wished day, their purpose to effect;  
The happy, 
The 5th of November  hoped-day, Novembers-fift,  
To drive all headlong with a horrid drift.  
Thus Fauks that ravening-Wolf with hungry-jaws  
Greedily gaped to gripe us in his paws.  
Thus, thus, he stood prepared to perpetrate  
With more than barbarous, most inhuman hate)  
A treason passing Catelines compact,  
Against old Rome with hot Cethegus backed.  
Ambitious Haman's arrogant proud thought,  
Against the Jews could no such ruth have wrought.  
Inferior far to this transcendent treason  
Was Paris massacre with most just reason.  
And that Sicilian woeful evensong  
Came far behind this project. And among  
The best Chronographers thou canst not find  
A fact so foul, so cruel and unkind,  
Not barbarous Scythia, nor Tartary wild  
Did ever hear or see a plot so vild,  
Much less ere dream the like to enterprise;  
Than which, a worse, Pluto could not devise,  
Nor such a palpable aegyptian-fog  
Have raised to rear Rome's faithless Synagogue.  
Wherein they hoped a kingdom to devour, 
A brief description of the most lamentable effects of the plot had it taken effect.   
At once, with one blow, in less than one hour,  
Like unresistible, remorseless waves,  
To make the open-air the tombs and graves  
Of our dread King, the Queen, the Prince our joy,  
Of England's peerless Peers, with dire annoy,  
Of all our choice and chief Nobility,  
Of Levies-Sons, props of the Prelacy,  
Lycurgus-Sons, our Justices and Judges,  
To whom their Romish foes bare secret grudges,  
The flower of gentry, cream of commonweal,  
Her skilful Surgeons, country's sores to heal.  
Her most accomplished Knights, the bravest part  
And prudent Burgesses had felt that smart;  
Most of the soundest Lawyers of the Land  
Had altogether perished out of hand.  
All These (I say) thus marked-out to die,  
(Had not heavens foresight given their wrath the lie  
Smothered in smoke and dust, to th'Ayr blown-up,  
Had drunk full-drafts of deaths most direful cup.  
Their bodies battered, shattered, torn and rent,  
Arms, heads and legs, flying i'th' firmament,  
dismembered bodies all besmeared with gore;  
A sight, which very Scythians might deplore,  
Yea roar to see, and seeing, curse the hearts  
Of all such barbarous Actors of such parts.  
Thus, thus, I say, those pious Patriots had  
Been All engulfed in death and dolour sad,  
By this most woeful, fearful Stygean Act,  
Likest itself, paralleled by no fact.  
O mischief, murder, massacre most strange!  
New snare, base ware brought forth from hell's exchange.  
O Popish cruell-crue, inhuman quite!  
Monsters in Gods, monsters in all men's sight.  
O wretched work, to which all woes are due,  
Great wrack, more great than may beheld for true,  
Who, present, saw All, noted All he saw,  
To trust All seen, his Own-eyes scarce could draw.  
With such fierce flames of quick sulphurous scathe,  
Doth Rome promove, approve her Catholic Faith▪  
Nay, not these reasonable-souls, alone,  
Had in that roaring-thunder up been blown.  
Without distinction or least difference,  
Of mean or mighty, people or of Prince,  
Of Majesty or honour, sex or age,  
(Such was the horror of Rome's wrath & rage)  
But many senslesse-creatures they had meant,  
To make partakers of that hideous rent.  
Both those most ancient famous houses fair  
Of Parliament, the springs of laws most rare,  
Westminster-hall, fair England's judgement-seat,  
Yea doubtless, Whitehall had to dust been beat;  
The Church, wherein Kings had their coronation,  
All turned to ashes, by that conflagration.  
That Church, I say, wherein the tombs most rare  
Of former famous Kings and Princes are,  
With precious, curious cost and care erected,  
From age to age most gorgeously protected,  
As endless trophies of triumphant reign,  
All these had fallen, dashed into dust again.  
Yea all the marks of Britain's royal-grace,  
The Crown of England, sceptre, Sword and Mace,  
Records and Charters, which appropriate  
To all, their portion, honour, right and state.  
O woeful, ruthful! these had been Rome's prey  
In this sulphurious-furious dark doomsday.  
So horrid and exorbitant a plot,  
So foul a stain, so black an ugly-spot,  
Doubtless man's tongue (before) did never tell,  
His eyes behold, or in his heart could dwell.  
Nay, all the furies of th'infernal-pit  
Could never (surely) such foul poison spit.  
So rare a King, so rare a Queen to kill,  
So rare a Prince, so rare a Race to ill,  
So rare a State to stab with cruelty,  
So rare a Realm to bring to misery!  
Whom, all the world admired, beloved of all,  
Whom, none but Pope and Papists wished to fall.  
If, a mean-man to slay be detestable,  
Then, how much more had this been execrable?  
If, to shed-blood, be called a crying-sin,  
How much more monstrous had this murder been?  
This mo●● than crying, yea, this roaring-crime,  
Unparalleled, unpatterned, by all time.  
For, these destroyed, what were a Realm, but dead?  
A most dismembered corpse without a head.  
And as a silly Hare (Fear laid aside)  
Securely thinks within his form to 'bide, 
Simile.   
Whom, when the countryman asleep doth find,  
With his plough-staff, he kills with eager mind:  
Even so Rome's cruel bloody-dragon had  
Obliterated England's fame, and clad  
Her glorious beauty, glistering name and nation  
In sable mourning, woe and lamentation.  
So huge a throat had this wild wolf of Rome,  
Christ's stock (at once) to swallow and consume.  
Who, thus, at one, indeed deep Cath'like blow,  
(Had not, heaven-only, thereunto said no)  
Had Nero's most inhuman wish effected, 
Nero's wish.   
Namely, all England's heads to be erected,  
And placed upon one-body, with one-stroke,  
To smite them off; not needing to invoke  
A years, months, weeks or days-space, but one-hour,  
To strike-off all those heads, with Romish power.  
Yea, as it were, with one loud thunderclap,  
As with a petard, instantly, to snap  
And break our peaceful Janus-gate wide-ope,  
Of all our halcyon-days to quench the hope.  
With more than cannibals bloodthirsty mood,  
Deeming, than Mans-flesh, nothing sweeter food.  
O, who is able to articulate,  
Or, who can liv●ly paint and personate  
The several sorrows of that dismal-day,  
Those vile Nerorians, vaunting in their prey?  
Triumphing in the trophies, piteous spoil,  
Of their destroyed kingdom, native-soil?  
No, though I had an hundreth tongues and hearts,  
Both hearts & tongues would fail to do their parts,  
T'indite and write th'extent of their intention;  
In sense and science of so strange invention.  
Yea, learned Homer, doubtless would refuse  
A task so great, so grievous for to choose.  
Yet, that I may but give a short survey,  
A glimmering-view of that intended-day,  
We'll here suppose (and blessed be heavens great name, 
Suppose the deed done.   
That we can thereof but conjecture frame)  
We'll (here) suppose (I say) the fact effected,  
The traitors bloody-banners (now) erected;  
By Hercules his foot, the lion's paw,  
The wise may see the wideness of Rome's maw.  
For here (Methinks) had (then) a fresh been shown  
London, great-Britanes fairest princely throne,  
Like conquered Troy in furious flames a-burning, 
London's misery.   
Spoilt & abused, replete with moan & mourning;  
The happiest City Europe ere enjoyed,  
With Aetnaean-fire and smoke, confumed, destroyed.  
Her walls with Canon-ruptures rent and torn,  
Her stately turret's battered-down, forlorn.  
Rubbish-heaps made of her pyramids,  
Her streets with soldiers filled; none them t'appease.  
Then Mars usurping mild Astraea's room,  
Their swords, not words, must give the fatal-doom.  
In streets, great streams of blood like rivers run,  
Loud screeks and cries, help, help, we are undone;  
But none to help, except to help them die,  
Or add more grief to groaning misery,  
In houses and in sanctified places  
Women with blubbering tears bedrensh their faces,  
Wringing their hands and running up and down,  
Fearfully frighted with foes rage and frown;  
Children in Parents arms trembling and quaking,  
Mothers into their laps their infants taking  
With gushing tears, kissing their tender-cheeks,  
Chambers even ring with Damsels woeful fcreeks:  
Aged-men murdered, young men butchered,  
Wives widows made, chaste Virgins ravished.  
This corollary let me also add,  
Which would have made the mischief far more bad,  
It was confessed to be their hellish drift  
(The King & State confounded) they would shift  
The blame & shame on those whom most they hate,  
Their own foul guilt (Thereby) to palliate;  
A villain, falsely, should proclaim as truth,  
That Puritans were authors of this ruth.  
So that in every country, town, and city  
All that were godly-given, without all pity,  
(O most unsampled, o most wicked wile,)  
Had been destroyed, as malefactors vile.  
But how this hellish plot contrived should be,  
In its more proper place, you, plain shall see.  
Now then return we whence we have digressed; 
An introduction to the discovery of the plot.   
Hell's Romish-agents, thus, most ready pressed,  
As was fore-shown, each thing in readiness,  
To bring their country into deep distress.  
Our great Jehovah, God omnipotent,  
Who sits in Heaven, above the firmament,  
His Israel's careful keeper, shepherd great,  
Who man's affairs views from his mercy-seat,  
And knows the closest and most secret deed,  
Whose sight doth feigned Lynxes far exceed,  
He, he, I say, in mercy did behold  
The miseries and mischiefs manifold,  
Wherewith those Romish-bears, their King did threat,  
Whereby they gaped to make Saints-flesh their meat. 
GOD speaks to his Angel.   
Thus to his glorious angel with sweet voice,  
His will unfolds, which they to do rejoice.  
You, saith Jehovah, now shall understand,  
How Satan that sly-hunter takes in hand  
With Cholcos spells and spite by agents proud,  
Great Britain's soil to spoil: yea and hath vowed  
To root-out of the Earth the English-nation,  
Who to our name perform pure adoration.  
Which if they should accordingly achieve,  

* Rome.  Babel would her dead hopes again revive;  
The monstrous 
* The Pope.  Beast would salve her deadly sore  
And re-erect a Stews for her great Whore.  
Then Rome, the Mistress of enormity  
Would bask herself in sins deformity;  
Then also would the prophecies of old,  
Seem (and that justly) all in vain foretold;  
All those predictions clean annihilated,  
Which said the Beast should (sure) be captivated,  
That Babylon should fall and ruined be,  
And that the Kings on Earth her fall should see.  
All these (I say) might (hereby) frustrate seem.  
And thus my people, Me forgetful deem.  
Wherefore I purpose with all expedition,  
To interrupt and thwart this their ambition,  
This hasty, hateful enterprise to stop,  
Of this rank-rising-weed the flowers to crop.  
And, although England's sins my wrath deserve,  
Yet, for my names-sake, I will them preserve,  
Although (I say) England's ingratitude  
Justly deserves judgements amaritude,  
Because it doth my mercies much abuse,  
Yet will I not permit this Beast to use  
Mysword of power, nor give those 
* traitor's  Imps my right,  
But, speedily in wrath their sins I'll smite.  
This God of mercy, just-mans' consolation,  
With most ineffable commiseration,  
To show to us his love and bounty large,  
A heavenly angel forthwith gives in charge  
To Albion's kingdom with swift course to fly,  
And in his sleep the king to certify,  
How many dangers he was wrapped into,  
Which him and's peaceful kingdom would undo;  
How many stinging-Snakes in Court did lurk,  
For him and his, strange snares and 'gins to work.  
Wish him be circumspect, the 
* The Parliament house.  place refrain  
Where Julius Caesar treacherously was slain:  
Their impious plotted Protasis doth frown,  
Like Sampsons-house, intending to pull-down  
His kingdom all at once about his ears,  
And their Epitasis portends great fears;  
But both of these, he joyfully shall see  
Transacted to a blessed Catastrophe. 
Lord Mounteagle   
Then, to the Lord MOUNTEAGLE haste with speed,  
To whom the traitors closely have decreed  
To send a Letter, 
A Letter.  this harm to prevent,  
That from the Senate he himself absent.  
For why? say they, both God and man decree,  
By a fierce blast Rome's foes downcast to see,  
And that he should into the country fly,  
And there in safety and security  
A woeful sudden spectacle expect;  
And that this Caution might breed no suspect,  
They wished him (having read) the Letter burn,  
That so no danger might upon him turn.  
Him thou shalt warn his duty to perform,  
And of this peril, his dread Prince t'enform,  
The Kingdoms and his country's weal to further,  
And so prevent this direful dreadful murder,  
Which that same Letter mystically meant,  
Without a name, but not a blessed event.  
Then from great Jove doth winged Minerva fly,  
And ere bright Titan from the spangled-sky  
Had banished Cynthia, dancing on Spain's flood,  
This blessed Messenger with message good  
Arrived upon the coasts of Britain fair,  
His charge to discharge duly doth prepare.  
Who noble Morley's heart doth first inspire  
With honest care and diligent desire  
Of his dear King and Countries happy state;  
And then the King's breast doth illuminate  
With judgement most profound the knot t'untie  
(Like Oedipus) of that oenigma high.  
For, thus, the Lord, in his all-guiding grace,  
Ordained, that one of that most traitorous race  
Did meet the Lord Mounteagle's servingman,  
Ten days before the Parliament began;  
Who, 
The Lord Mounteagle's servingman.  about seven a clock at night was sent  
Upon some errand: And as thus he went,  
Crossing the street, a fellow to him came,  
A man to him unknown, by face or name,  
Of personage tall, making a sudden stand,  
straight put the Letter in the servant's hand,  
Earnestly prayed him, with all special heed,  
To give it into his Lord's hands with speed.  
The footman home unto his Lord did hie,  
And gave the Letter to him, instantly,  
And told him how it was unto him brought;  
Which, soon, he opened, found the hand but naught  
No name thereto subscribed, without a date;  
To read it, therefore he did properate,  
But, hardly could, wherefore, a gentleman  
He called to help him read, which (thus) began.  
THE LETTER.  
MY Lord, out of the love I bear to some of your Friends, I have care of your preservation. Therefore I would advise you as you tender your life to devise some excuse to shift-off your attendance at this Parliament. For, God and man have concurred to punish the wickedness of this time; and think not slightly of this advertisement, but retire yourself into your country, where you may expect the event in safety. For, though there be no appearance of any stir, yet, I say, they shall receive a terrible blow, this Parliament, and yet they shall not see who hurts them. This counsel is not to be contemned, because it may do you good, and can do you no harm; for the danger is past, so soon as you have burnt the LETTER. And I hope GOD will give you the grace to make use of it; to whose holy Protection I leave you.  
These strange contents his mind did discontent,  
In's heart a thousand thoughts both came and went;  
What fact, what friend, what this oenigma told,  
What mystic-danger these words might enfold?  
Or whither 'twere some addle, idle-brain,  
That this had writ to cause him thence refrain?  
If it should prove a fond fantastic-thing,  
To stir therein, disgrace to him would bring:  
But if it should include some dire event,  
Unto his Person or the Parliament;  
To keep it close, might make him prove disloyal:  
He's loath and yet desires to ma●e a trial,  
Wherefore, at last, as was fore-specifi'de,  
God's sacred angel to him swiftly hi'de,  
And in his anxious thoughts infused sweet grace,  
Willing him this occasion to embrace;  
And kindled in his heart a zealous flame,  
Not to conceal, but to reveal the same.  



THe gallant EAGLE soaring-up on high,  
Bears in his beak Treasons discovery:  
MOUNT noble EAGLE, with thy happy Prey,  
And thy rich Prize unto thy Prince convey.    
THrice noble Morley (Says this angel bright)  
Who art so honoured in thy maker's sight, 
The angel to Lo. Morley.   
That thou must be the man shall first disclose  
The Kings and countries bitter threatened woes,  
By that usurping whorish Beast of Rome,  
Who Albion's I stand hopes (now) to consume;  
O stand not doubting, pondering in thy thought,  
Whither this be a truth or thing of nought;  
A truth, a happy-truth it does import,  
Of woe and wrack to Country and to Court.  
If thou it hide a world of woes ensue,  
If thou reveal it honour be thy due.  
And though this Letter seemeth most obscure  
Like a dark-riddle, yet will I procure  
A Joseph's or a Daniels ingeny,  
T'untwine the twist of its obscurity.  
Since in thy hands (then) lies both weal and woe,  
Haste, haste with speed, in Court thy Letter show.  
This happy motion makes all doubt depart  
From this right noble Lord Mounteagle's heart,  
Who (now) resolves the business to display,  
To search the truth, to Court to haste away;  
And, though it were both dirty, dark and late,  
Yet, he the time will not procrastinate.  
But, like a noble-Eagle with a prey,  
A princely prey (indeed) he sears away,  
He is not quiet with this prize (thus) catched,  
Until he have his high-affairs dispatched.  
Heaven's aid imploring for a blissful end,  
To this most anxious act he did intend: 
The Lord Mounteagle goes to Court with the Letter.   
And, thus, with loyal-heart away he goes  
To Court, this weighty business to disclose,  
Resolved thereto, what ever should betide,  
And, to the Earl of Salsb'ries lodging hi'de,  
To this Ulysses, he the LETTER shows,  
He th'other counsel; hence thick doubting grows  
Among them all, they in most doubtful wise  
Possess the King therewith, and so advise:  
Eachone propounds his judgement severally  
As in a case of great anxiety,  
One thinks it was some idle vain conceit, 
The Lords   
Others do judge it did some danger threat;  
Another is quite of another-mind,  
None could the right-way of this labyrinth find.  
Not one of them could dive into its ground,  
None could this mystic-riddle right expound.  
At last our prudent-King, 
K. James.  Apollo's son,  
Fair England's Joseph, thus to them begun;  
(Weighing each circumstance with deep discretion)  
Well, sirs, our judgements must take more impression,  
This is no trivial work or fantasy.  
But must be sifted with great scrutiny,  
I well remember, and you all do know,  
That little-smoke being (at first) kept low,  
Doth mighty flames (though hid) most fiercely work:  
And in this grass some Serpent foul doth lurk,  
Or else I am deceived; for to my mind  
Now comes that 
* Magna licet nunquam nocuit cautela monarchi●.  old-rule touching Romists blind,  
Whose genius guided by Erynnis vile,  
Never pull-down the Flag of wrath and guile,  
But, what with threats, poisons, deceit, contentions,  
They practise still t'effect their foul inventions,  
Plodding and plotting as a most just thing,  
By Jesuites-principles to kill their King.  
No doubt but here's some danger fabricated,  
Some second Troian-horse is machinated,  
Some bloody Jesuit, with some traitorous train,  
Who would his hands in our dear heartblood stain,  
Some monstrous machination (credit me)  
Is in this LETTER couched privily.  
'tis not the froth of any brittle-brain,  
But, doubtless, does some treachery contain;  
In that his friend he counsels to forbear  
From coming thither, so to void the fear:  
Yea, farther, he great danger menaceth,  
A sudden, terrible, fierce stroke of death.  
Which with great wonder like a thunderclap,  
Should, on their foes, precipitately hap;  
Unless by gunpowder this thing must be, 
The letter expounded by the King.   
Nought else, so likely thereto, I can see.  
And it may be that they'll abuse that-art,  
To our great ruin and ensuing-smart.  
Therefore most loyal Sirs, I much desire  
That speedy course be taken to inquire  
What neighbours and what houses near do stand  
To our great Capitol, what Cellars, and  
What arched-vaults there are under the ground;  
Let secret search be made, the truth out-found.  
Then straight, Lord Chamberlain, with others moe, 
A search.   
Made careful inquisition for to know  
What houses who them held, and of each thing,  
In all particulars inform the King;  
Percy (saith he) dwells there and hath a vault,  
With wood and charcoal plentifully fraught.  
Hence, instantly, greater suspect did rise, 
Sr Thomas Knevet sent to search.   
And thereupon S. THOMAS KNEVET wise  
Was ordered to search-out what he might;  
Who on the 4th-day of Novembers-night,  
Perlustrated each doubted part and place,  
And did each thing uncover and uncase.  
And least suspicion might their search betray,  
They feigned to seek the Queens-roabs stolen away.   



Infernal Fauks with Daemoniack heart,  
Being ready, now, to act his hellish part;  
Booted and spured with lantern in his hand,  
And match in's Pocket at the door doth stand:  
But wise Lord KNEVET by Divine Direction,  
Him apprehends and finds the Plots detection.    
ANd first, 
Fauks is apprehended at the Cellar door.  S. Thomas, Guido Fauks did find,  
(Devil of that den) ordering things to his mind,  
Booted and spured, then standing at the door,  
Having dispatch his task, but late before.  
Having (then) set (I say) in order fit,  
His all-disordering fuming Aetna's-pit,  
Which should have made his country quite forlorn,  
And all her stately towers have rent and torn.  
He apprehends him, grasps and clasps his hands  
With hempen-cords; and then no longer stands,  
But quickly enters that infernal-cell,  
Where, entered, he observes and views all well.  
And trustily pull-down the piles of wood,  
And as his servants tumbling all things, stood,  
A sudden fright this knight and them amazed,  
Which, 'mong them all an exclamation raised;  
See, see (say they) this wood doth powder hide,  
For, we two barrels full have here espied,  
Let us search farther, we shall more descry  
Hid (Doubtless) 'mongst these billets privily.  
O treason, treason, here we more do find,  
O treason, past the reach of mortal mind!  
Then more and more, they instantly found-out,  
And thereby, 
The powder is discovered.  cleared the truth of former doubt.  
Full thirty barrels more with powder fraught,  
Two hogsheads great they found as thus they sought.  
All which did Fauks his heart with rancour wound,  
Whom straight they searched & soon about him found  
A crucifix, which from his neck they snatch,  
A shirt of hair he wore his skin to scratch.  
From forth his pocket (then) that match they took  
(Maugre his traitorous rage and hellish-look)  
Which should have brought Vulcan from hell's black station  
To work in Aetna doleful desolation.  
Wherewith he vowed to burn-up and destroy  
Albion's illustrious lustre fame and joy,  
The peace and plenty, strength and valour stout  
Of England, famous all the world throughout.  
This glorious Realm in twinkling of an eye  
He would have robbed of all her royalty.  
Yea, with such unheard cruelty and guile  
They woven had this web most foul and vile,  
And every thread so slily did contrive,  
That but poor twelve-hours England should survive  
Heaven having (thus) hells foul intentions stopped,  
The project crossed, their flower of hope (thus) cropped;  
The traitor straight the fact confessed, but said  
He grieved most to see his purpose stayed,  
And that, 
Fauks his impudence.  but this, nought should have held his hand  
From turning all into a smoky-brand.  
The standers-by in wonder, thus, burst out,  
Hear o ye heavens, tremble all earth throughout  
Was ever heard or seen so bold a foe,  
A heart so hard, prodigious? Nay, we know  
That scarce the heart of Turkey, Barbary,  
Like plotted-mischief ever did descry.  
To which the bloody-butchery in France  
Is unequivalent, gives but a glance,  
(Respecting this) of Rome's rebellious stock,  
In these vile Edomites, on us Christ's flock.  
Whose memory much dims each former slaughter,  
Disgrace of this, 
Six observations or aggravations.  and of all ages after.  
The unheard horror whereof may appear  
In these six circumstances following here.  
First, if they had adjudged us, by hand  
Of reasonable-creatures, to death's band,  
If men by men should have been deaths fierce fuel, 
1. Men.   
The fact had been more human, far less cruel;  
For then, there had been hope by force or fence;  
By tears or treats to suage their violence.  
As to heaven's glory our blessed King did find  
In Gowries treason, cruel and unkind.  
Or if by other brutish-animals,  
Inexorable at our woeful calls, 
2. Beasts.   
And being, than most-men, more pitiless,  
Would us confound, with beastlike greediness;  
This kind of death (indeed) had been more fierce,  
Yet here were hope death's sentence to reverse:  
For why? by force or pleasurable-cause,  
Some men have scaped lions fangs and claws,  
Daniel i'th' Den, the Roman in the Cave,  
David, King Richard, o'er them, conquest have.  
Again, which is most cruel of the three,  
By things-insensible destroyed to be, 
3. Insensible things.   
To which, all groans, all moans must needs be vain  
Being senseless of themselves, most of our pain;  
By these, I say, to perish and decay,  
No hope, no help, nought can their fury stay.  
Besides, observe, of any senseles-thing,  
These elements, 
4. Fire and water.  Water and Fire do bring  
Most damage, most devouring fierce confusion,  
By restless, by redreslesse strong intrusion;  
Whose inundations, all-confounding flames  
Orewhelms whole realms, makes dust of rarest frames.  
Add, yet, this fifth material observation,  
Which, 
5. Fire.  to this purpose brings great aggravation;  
Of these two all-devouring elements,  
By fire we have most grievous detriments.  
For, though the waters hugely overflow,  
Drown man and beast, bring all to deadly woe,  
Yet, when into their bounds they have recourse,  
All things remain, in substance, little worse:  
But when or whersoever fires fierce rage,  
Burns Shepheards-cottage or rich-heritage,  
Takes hold on houses, palaces or places,  
Of gold or treasure, all it quite out-races,  
Cattle and corn are altogether thrust,  
Are all consumed, nought left but dross and dust.  
Therefore that we should be consumed with fire,  
And of all fires, 
6. Gunpowder.  that of most furious ire,  
By puffing gunpowder, the most outrageous,  
A death most desperate, cruel and contagious;  
O speak (alas) what hope was of relief,  
From this so mortal, mischievous great grief?  
No strength, no power was able to assail,  
No tears, no treats could, here, a jot prevail.  
For why? O woe, no time for tears was given,  
With such strange violence had all been driven!  
No mortall-might might stay this mortal-blow,  
No power protect us from that deadly woe.  
No means (I say) less than a miracle,  
Such as is mentioned in the Oracle  
Of sacred Scriptures, when Heaven did command  
(Even as it were by his immediate hand)  
That Babylonian fiery-furnace power,  
That it could not once touch, much less devour  
That rare pairroyall of true piety, 
The three children in the fiery furnace.   
True worshippers of Heavens great Deity,  
Sweet Shadrack, Mesheck and Abednego,  
In whom the Lord did such a wonder show.  
And, certainly such was to us God's grace,  
And we well-nigh, in as like dangerous case.  
But, blessed, o thrice-blessed trine-one Lord,  
Thine endless-praise, we (ever) shall record,  
Our powerful and most pitiful protector,  
O our most holy, glorious, just director!  
The gracious smiles of thy preventing pity  
Made blessed Ho sanna be our joyful Ditty, 
Another observation of the impossibility to escape the blow.   
Here we may not omit this observation,  
Th' impossibility of preservation,  
Or hope, this treason (ever) to descry,  
By all the reach of human policy;  
And therefore, that God-only did us save,  
And hereunto five reasons more we have.  
First to keep secret and perform the fact,  
They bound themselves by Oath and firm compact.  
Then heerupon, received the Sacrament,  
To tie themselves with stronger ligament.  
Thirdly, were tutoured by their Jesuits  
To use all couzening-tricks, deluding sleights,  
Namely, to answer by equivocation,  
To any Magistrates examination;  
Their senses thus to circumvent and flout,  
That none the truth might from them (ere) get-out.  
Moreover, though, that Letter we confess,  
Was the first-instrument the plot t'express;  
Yet, certainly, for all that mystic-letter,  
Our case had still been very little-better,  
If God had not another-way wrought peace,  
Necessitating them that work to cease  
Of undermining that great Capitol,  
By reason of the thick and stony-wall,  
Which so did cross what they did first desi●●  
As that they must the powder-cellar hire,  
Wherinto they their hellish-stuff did lay,  
Our King and State by flames to make away;  
Which, had it been of those things void and free,  
Where might it have been thought, that stuff to be?  
How could the vault in time, have been detected,  
Which all the while was never (once) suspected?  
Nor, till the Traitours-selves confessed, was sought,  
For, no man, thereof ever dreamt or thought.  
The last, not least note, in this horrid act,  
Is, that God moved the King still to protract  
And to rejourn the time of Parliament,  
Which, fitted (still) the traitor's ill-intent,  
But, chiefly, unto us it fells-out best,  
As by those notes before hath been expressed.  
The Treason (thus) most happily displayed,  
The traitor Fauks to prison was conveyed. 
Fauks is imprisoned.   
Then, through both Court and Country speedily,  
Through all the kingdom did the rumour fly,  
Through Town and City, street and every place,  
Of this deliverance, 
The report of the treason spread abroad.  God's preventing-grace;  
Annoy is turned to joy and sweet content,  
Men's hands and hearts and knees to praises bent:  
Making great bonfires, feasting, ringing bells,  
Eachone h●s neighbour this God's goodness tells.  
And, now, return we, where we new-now left  
Incarcerate Fauks, whose heart was clean bereft  
Of piety and grace, incarnate devil,  
Most strangely hardened with infernal evil. 
Fauks his most impudent behaviour at the Court.   
For, being brought before the council grave,  
He did himself so sturdily behave,  
And put-on such a Romish Resolution,  
A vouching his intended-execution,  
Wit●●uch a settled and immarbled face,  
As that a Mutius Scaevola most base,  
He lively represented to them all,  
Full of remorseless rancour, rage and gall.  
For why? he durst most shamelessly proclaim  
This hateful fact, a deed of holy fame,  
And that the Zeal of Romish Faith indeed,  
Inflamed his heart so boldly to proceed;  
And, that he grieved for nothing more than this,  
That, of the works-conclusion he did miss.  
Adding, moreover, with a heart of stone,  
That, if he had but of their coming known,  
And if he had been in the Cellar ta'en,  
He would have set on fire the powder-train,  
And, both himself and those that had him catched  
Would (there) have blown-up and of life dispatched.  
Yea, when before the King and council grave,  
That night, he questioned was, he did behave  
Himself with right-Ravilack scorn and pride,  
And oftentimes would seem even to deride  
What was demanded; so small grace he had,  
So hard a heart, his conscience was so bad.  
And the next day being in safe custody,  
And by some Lords questioned, most seriously,  
Touching his complices in this design,  
He stubbornly, would such demands decline,  
And all that while, nought could be from him got,  
Which he conceived might disclose the plot;  
But on himself-alone laid all the blame,  
Protesting that he undertook the same  
Merely for conscience and religions sake,  
Avouching, that the King he did not take  
To be his lawful sovereign, God's anointed,  
But, as an heretic, from Rome disjointed▪  
But, 
Fauks sent to the Tower.  the next morn, being to the Tower sent,  
And, there, some two or three days being spent,  
In strict examination, twice or thrice,  
And, he rejecting all their grave advice;  
The council (Thereon) proffering him the rack, 
Frighted with the rack.   
The sight thereof did all his courage crack;  
And all his former Romish valour stout,  
Unmask, and made his guilt of heart break-out.  
So that he (then) began for to confess  
The truth of all th'intended-wickedness.  
Then there they left him in his devilish heart,  
To bide the Sentence of his just desert;  
To taste the bitter cup to traitors due,  
Which yet did nothing cause his soul to rue,  
But desperately his heart more hard than stone,  
With devilish impudence was overgrown.  
For in the time of his imprisonment,  
Some other traitors to the tower being sent,  
There were, that did avouch that they did hear  
Vile Robert Winter, Winter void of fear;  
In whom (also) was graces Autumn shown,  
And fruitless-winter of all goodness known,  
Who being in the tower, a time did find  
To speak to Fauks, 
Conference in the tower twixt Winter & Fauks.  and (thus) to break his mind.  
Thou know'st (friend) Fauks, my old & trusty mate)  
That boys may, once, grow-up to man's estate,  
And Catesby and myself have children left,  
Then are we not of comfort, quite, bereft.  
For why? I hope they will revenge Rome's wrong,  
And, for our sakes, her foes (once) lay along.  
Yea, though we had no children of our own,  
Yet God is able from the sterile-stone  
To Abraham of Rome, children to raise;  
And I much marvel, no man in our praise  
For this our Catholic constant zeal doth write,  
And panegyrics unto us indite.  
However, yet, let us vow and protest  
To maintain our just-cause and manifest,  
Our ardent zeal for Rome's supremacy,  
When we before the people are to die.  
Content (quoth Fauks) for, surely, I suppose  
The devil not God, did this our sact disclose,  
O monstrous men, o hard hearts, brazen faces!  
To offer God and man these foul disgraces,  
Past grace, past goodness, void of fear or shame,  
Our good Heavens God, thus falsely to defame,  
Far worse than Julian, that Apostata,  
Or Ecebolius, worse than these, I say,  
For Julian did (at last) confess and cry,  
Thou Galilaean haste the victory.  
And th'other with remorse confessed his fault,  
Crying-out, O tread on me unsavoury-salt.  
But this remorseless, graceless, godless brood,  
Of ramish-Romists, with most impious mood,  
Are not ashamed (like most unsavoury-salt)  
Not only, not to grieve for this great fault,  
But most impenitent, avouch and joy,  
Their hellish-plot, their country to destroy.  
To this unpatterned impudence, I may  
The traitor Tressam's perjury display;  
As most apparent marks to testify  
This Beast of Babel and her blasphemy.  
And let no Romish-Rabsheca be moved,  
And say 'tis false; for both were justly proved.  
This Tressam to the council had confessed, 
Tressam's perjury.   
That he and Garnet had their minds expressed,  
And oftentimes had serious conference  
About this treason and intelligence  
Of that invasion by the King of Spain,  
Which greedily they gapd-for, but in vain.  
This also, being proved to Garnets face,  
Yet Tressam, ere he died (quite void of grace)  
Did on his souls-salvation take his oath,  
Vilely recant, falsely forswear them-both;  
And said, that sixteen years, at least were past,  
Since he did see or talk-with Garnet last.  
O what a wretched-state live these men in,  
Who hold it but a trivial, venial-sin,  
To wrest and jest with oaths and Sacraments,  
And have indulgence for such damned attempts!  
But, desperate Judas-like Tressam did die,  
Murdering himself in prison wickedly.  
O who, so stoic-like, so senseless Stock  
Cannot be moved to see these wretches mock,  
And gull their souls with Romish incantation!  
Nay, who are so bewitch (past admiration)  
With the bedawbed face of that rotten-Whore  
I'th' Revelations spoken of long before.  
But, to omit digression and proceed,  
And briefly to relate each scelerous deed  
Which did and should succeed that fatal-hour,  
Let's here leave Fauks fast locked in London's tower,  
(A lodging fit for such a traitorous guest)  
Where now he might take time, without molest,  
His corrupt-conscience seriously to sift,  
To cry for grace, to Christ his thoughts to lift.  
Until the day, of execution due  
To him, and those of his accursed crew,  
Was brought about in its appointed time  
To pay the wages of his cursed crime.  
In which discourse each godly-wise shall see  
By truth and reason all confirmed to be.  
First, here behold there more than marble faces  
T'invert the odium, and the foul disgraces  
Of this black-deed, had it so ta'en effect,  
On Innocents, who did it lest suspect.  
There lived at that time in Northampton-shire,  
A worthy Gentleman, allied near  
To Robert keys, whose Sister Keyes did wed,  
Whereby acquaintance was between them bred,  
This pious Gentleman well known at Court,  
And in his Country of most rare report,  
For Grace and goodness and true Piety,  
Had a swift running-Nag, and keys must be  
The man must borrow it for some choice use,  
A staulking-horse, indeed, to this abuse.  
This Horse thus borrowed (as the plot was laid)  
Must unto London forthwith be conveyed,  
And there to stay till Fauks had given the blow,  
Which should have wrought his country's bleeding woe.  
Which given, the horse was ordered to attend  
Fauks in St. Georges-field away to wend,  
And make escape by speedy flight from thence.  
They likewise had, with hellish impudence,  
Contrived about that time t'have murdered  
This pious Gentleman at night in his bed,  
And's murdered corpse to have conveyed away  
To London, whereabout his horse did stay.  
And in this interim, even Fauks himself  
That furious firebrand, Alecto's elf,  
Should also have by Villains murdered been,  
And be so hacked that it should not be seen  
Or known what one he was; thus, 'twas dec●reed,  
To pay him home with his deserved meed.  
He hoped for honour they would pay't with horror,  
His dignity should be his death and dolour,  
He gaped for gold, they would it turn to gall,  
Now when he hoped to rise he down should fall.  
Thus Fauks so mangled, as not to be known,  
A rumour suddenly must forth be blown,  
That Puritans were authors of the fact,  
And more to clear their project and compact,  
And make the world believe't was so indeed  
There Mr. Pickering lay in Fauks his stead,  
Who was the kindler of that furious flame,  
And as prime author must bear all the blame.  
(The traitor Fauks his corpse being suddenly  
conveyed away that none could him descry.)  
There also M. Pickering's horse did stay,  
Ready with speed to hasten him away;  
But heaven's all-seeing-eye, revengeful hand,  
His hoped escape did timely countermand,  
And stirred up some in odious detestation  
Of that so foul sulphureous perpetration,  
To fall upon him, and with wrath most due  
Him in that manner there to hack and hew,  
To clear all which, hard by him smeared in blood,  
His well-known horse bridled and saddled stood.  
On which suspicion, strengthened in that sort  
Straight must break forth (I say) that false report  
That Puritans were authors of this ill,  
And thereupon a Massacre must fill  
The kingdom with the blood of righteous men,  
All that were pious known, and godly, then,  
By Romish rash and wrongful accusations  
Must have been forced to bloody devastations.  
Hence, hence, I say, had ruefully been raised  
Clamours of men, outcries of hearts amazed,  
Death threatening tortures in all parts to rear,  
On all that godly, gracious Christians were.  
And was not this a craft raked out of Hell  
By devilish furies? falsely to repel  
From guilty on the guiltless, all their blame,  
And then like devils incarnate void of shame,  
With perjured stony-hearts and brazen faces  
Upon God's Saints to dash their own disgraces.  
He that the nimble drops can number all,  
Which from the Pleiades and moist Orion fall,  
Or Bees of thousand swarms which suck May-flowers,  
Might (then) have told poor Britan's brinish showers,  
Might, then, have numbered England's heart-fetcht-groans  
Might, then, have counted all her matchless moans.  
O English Protestants, why stand you still,  
As if afraid to curb Rome's cursed will?  
Why seem ye (yet) to halt twixt two opinions,  
Pretending truth, fostering these Romish Minions?  
O cast out these accursed Canaanites,  
These subtle foxes, bloody Jesuits,  
Which lie but lurking for a watched prey,  
Whom nought can satiate but your dire decay!  
Impunity does nought but cause them 'bide  
Sharp thorns t'our eyes and goads unto our side.  
But now to pass to that which doth remain,  
Farther to view this traitorous hateful train,  
Here, than what Satan's pseud-Apostles did,  
Shall be declared after all was unhid.  
And, here you must observe and notice take  
That Percy, Catesby, all things sure to make,  
'Bout Westminster and Lambeth stayed still, 
Percy and Catesby stayed about Westminster to see the issue.   
The issue to observe or good or ill,  
Sure news thereof unto their mates to carry,  
Who, for their coming did 'bout Dunchurch tarry.  
This impious Dog-couple of traitors base;  
These bold copartners in shames deep disgrace,  
Perceiving that by Heavens most blessed decree,  
Their treason was made known, make haste to flee,  
Their prey (now) lost, they both like Bears, in chase  
Finding themselves (now) in a desperate case,  
Their hearts began to ache and quake with fear,  
Like Dogs, indeed, they grin, rage, sweat and swear  
To horse they haste and swiftly post away  
To Dunchurch, 
Dunchurch heath.  where (I say) their mates did stay.  
Which place they had their rendezvous assigned,  
Their aftergame to play (there) to their mind.  
There, falsely, did Sr. Everard Digby fain  
His holy-hunt, 
Venatio Catholica A holy Hunt.  a fat-buck to be slain.  
A hunt, indeed, like that of Nimrod proud,  
Their farther mischiefs cunningly to shroud,  
A holy-hunt for hellhounds only fit,  
To hunt Christ's lambs into Rome's wolvish-pit.  
And, as in word, so to avoid suspicion,  
Of all things, for a hunt, they made provision.  
Their toils and nets they place, with joyful cheer,  
Their hounds with yelping noise to chase the deer, 
A description of their pretended hunt.   
The sturdy stag, the tripping, skipping hare,  
Their horns they blow, which pierce the echoing air,  
Making their choice of a large champion-ground,  
A fitter for their turn could not be found,  
With shrubs and bushes set commodiously,  
And here and there, oaks planted, broad and high,  
Convenient places horse-carriers to see,  
And nothing wanting that desired could be;  
Yea, 'twas a plain so spacious, that they might,  
An army place in battle-ray to fight.  
In this great heath proud Digby and his train  
With traitorous Tressam rod about a main,  
And after them a mighty thrust and throng  
Of Catholics and others past along,  
Inhabiting the villages about,  
Admiring much the cause of that huge rout.  
Then forthwith, all the gallants and best choice  
Of Gentlemen and Youth, with hollowing-voice,  
Do ride and run, and to this sport allure  
All that were fit that pleasing sport t'endure;  
And most of all the villages, thereby,  
Do thither flock, together hastily.  
The woods about with snares and hays they fill,  
Some blow their bugle-horns both loud and shrill,  
Some, with their swords cut boughs, some, nets do lay,  
Yea, all prepare them to their sport and play,  
And from their hounds the collars do untie,  
Who to their game do run most eagerly.  
At whose loud opening and huge yelping-noise,  
The Deer, now, suddenly, to all their joys,  
Out of the thickets, 'mongst them nimbly rushes,  
Which, fearfully, lay hid among the bushes,  
And from them all doth swiftly run and scud,  
Whom Men and Dogs pursue, as they were wood.  
But in the midst of this their hasty pace,  
At heels of one of that most traitorous race, 
A pretty note by the way of a countryman's suspicion of these hunters.   
An honest-Country-man, by chance did keep,  
And, as he leaped o'er a ditch most deep,  
A clattering armour perfectly did hear,  
Which under's clothes that traitor, then, did wear;  
And that which in him more suspicion bred,  
The wind, as then, blew much and blustered,  
And, up and down his coat (oft) hovered, so,  
That, he an harness, clear, might see and know.  
The sight whereof amazed him, wondrously,  
And, thus, he whispered to one standing by.  
Good neighbour tell me what you think of this,  
I know not, but methinks 'tis much amiss,  
That in these parts, so great a company,  
Are thus assembled and yet unknown, why.  
God grant that all be well. This hunt, I fear,  
Is not 'gainst Foxes (only) Hares and Deer;  
No, no, I fear, they gape for greater things,  
These subtle Serpents (Doubtless) hide their stings.  
Themselves being fiercest wolus, though sheep-like clad,  
This hunt, I fear, is not for bruit-beasts had,  
Worse mischief (surely) in their bosom lies,  
Not Beasts to kill, but men's lives to surprise.  
Lord keep the King and royal Progeny  
From being caught and trapped in treachery  
By these audacious subtill-hunters snare,  
Who, to these ends, no cost nor labour spare.  
My mind presageth some great villainy,  
But, heaven, I pray, my fear may falsify.  
Yet, otherwise, why should they armour wear?  
Under their clothes? Besides all of them are  
Vassals to th' Pope of Rome, who (oft) did spit  
With rancour sore, fetched from th'infernal-pit)  
His envious poison 'gainst ELIZABETH,  
Whose fame, as in her life, lives after death.  
They are (I say) the friends and fautors all  
Of the great Beast, that strumpet's champions tall,  
Who sends her bellowing-bulswith bamning stings,  
Realms to dispose, to depose lawful Kings,  
Which, she composeth of false couched treason,  
Beyond the bounds of piety and reason.  
Doubtless, this most seditious generation,  
Disloyal brood, thirsting for innovation.  
Both ever was, and so continue still,  
The cunning craftmasters of fraud and ill,  
The foes to our felicity and peace;  
But here's more need of swords than words. I'll cease,  
I'll for myself provide the best I may;  
And from this dangerous crew will haste away;  
And with these words his staff on's neck he threw,  
And without answer, thence, himself withdrew.  
By chance, 
Another suspicion.  also, as they, thus hunting were,  
A friend of traitorous Winter, this did fear,  
And therefore he thus unto Winter said,  
I prithee tell me (Winter) what hath made  
This great assembly? what may be the reason  
Of all this-concourse, at this unfit season?  
What wind hath blown our catholics together,  
I prithee tell me wherefore come they hither?  
To whom, thus, Winter, in his ear replied,  
Deer Sr. the truth from you I will not hide,  
This hunt of beasts is but a thing pretended,  
We have a holy-hunt forthwith intended. 
Venamur religionem   
We hope to hunt the wolves heretical  
From our too-long enjoyed possessions all.  
And in these few hours this will be effected,  
Then let not these my speeches be rejected,  
But take advice, remember what say,  
Hold on our side, it is the wisest way.  
But, now the night drawss-on, our sport must end,  
And with those words he parted from his friend.  
The huntsmen, then, their horns aloud did blow,  
Both hounds and hunters to their homes do go,  
Making their retrograde, home they repair,  
And by the way their passed sports declare.  
When, being housed, their host had set on board,  
Such viands as the time would best afford.  
Great fires were made themselves to warm & heat,  
Their tables spread with linen clothes most neat,  
A Parlour fair, to sup in ready dressed,  
And gold and silver goblets of the best.  
Then Digby, who was chiefest of them all,  
Puts-off his arms, 
Sr. Ever. Digby.  and for his gown doth call,  
Wherein he walks and staulks with princely gate,  
Amidst his cursed-consorts, in great state,  
Prescribes them statutes, asks, replies again,  
His breast no triviall-trifles doth contain.  
His heart and head negotiate great affairs,  
He unto each his place of honour shares.  
So insolent and confident is he,  
That all things shall, to them, most prosperous be,  
That he even loads his mates with dignity,  
This done, to supper they go instantly,  
Where was no want of mirth and dainty cheer,  
As in their quaft-carouses did appear,  
In drinking healths and wishing good success,  
To their companions whom with eagerness  
From London they expected, where they stayed,  
Thinking each hour was ten, till they were made  
Partakers of their tidings. But, meanwhile,  
With mirth and music, they, the time beguile.  
But, as they sat, as 'twere o'erwhelmed in pleasure,  
Glutting themselves with dainties in deep measure,  
In jesting-scoffs and flouts taking delight,  
'Gainst those whom they term pure in scorn and spite,  
On whom they breaking jests in high disdain,  
Would hoot and hollow, laughing-out amain.  
As, thus, I say, they jeering, jesting, sat,  
Drowned in delight, glutted with merry-chat,  
News was brought in that Percy and Catesby  
Were at the door; 
Catesby & Percy came to the traitors with the news of the discovery of their treason.  to whom most earnestly,  
They, starting-up, made haste to meet, salute,  
Hoping the message to their mind did suit.  
Whom Digby, first, with speedy pace did meet,  
And 'bout their middle does them kindly greet,  
Often demanding, what good news, they brought,  
Who with dejected face, abjected thought,  
As brief, as full of grief, did thus reply,  
All is stark-nought. Which dampt them instantly.  
Strange alteration, like to Ghosts they stand,  
As if not able to stir foot or hand, 
The traitors are amazed.   
Such numbness, dumbness seemed in them to be,  
A chilling-cold all-ore them you might see,  
Their bodies quake, their bones began to tremble,  
Their face could not their foul disgrace dissemble,  
Their countenance cast-down, they stare and gaze,  
Their fainting-hearts half-dead at that amaze.  
And thus, o thus, the Lord converts the joy  
Of unjust men, into most sharp annoy,  
Their pleasure into pain and penury;  
All (thus) quite dashed, in twinkling of an eye:  
A while they flourish like a pleasant-bay,  
But suddenly, they fade, like withered-hay.  
Percy, at length, all fear doth from him cast,  
And seeing how his friends stood all aghast,  
Thus, dissolutely, resolute, began  
To utter words befitting such a man.  
Take courage (friends) do not all hope neglect, 
Percies oration.   
The first-attempts do seldom take effect,  
Had it been (thus) with Caesar in the field,  
Pompey had victor been, made Caesar yield,  
(When they at Thessaly the battle fought)  
And Caesar had been slain, past fear or doubt,  
And with his life, his Empire he had lost,  
Each enterprise (at first) great pains doth cost.  
Yea, commonly great obstacles withstand  
The noblest actions that we take in hand.  
Life is resembled to a chance at Dice,  
Where (oft) more's won at once, than lost at thrice.  
Though for the time, the gamester suffers loss;  
At last much coin, into his purse he'll toss.  
Believe me (noble Sirs) virtue best shines  
In troublesome and intricate designs;  
The time requires bold-spirits; plasters strong  
Must cure the sore which cowardice did wrong.  
Fortune's a friend to the courageous wight,  
Dastardly fear declares a peasant right.  
What? are we not all of us Catholics?  
Does not our highpriest curse those heretics,  
And pray for us? is not our cause most right,  
Religious, just? valiantly, then, let's fight.  
This Pluto's Orator scarce made an end,  
When all to arms themselves do fiercely bend;  
Then forthwith, 
They put themselves into open rebellion.  Catesby and his traitorous mates  
Consult together. Catesby sendeth Bates  
To Garnet with a letter, which should show  
What ill-success did on their projects flow.  
Garnet at Coughton was in Warwick-shire,  
And all Recusants rendezvous was there;  
And in that letter Catesby him desired  
(For so their ominous-estate required)  
With all convenient expedition,  
To stir-up Wales into rebellion,  
And elsewhere, as he could all Papists stout  
To stimulate and move to fight it out.  
Now Garnet (who with Greenwell was that time)  
Seeing, 
Garnets opinion.  they Jesuits were deep in the crime,  
And fully certified that all was known,  
Began their ill-success much to bemoan,  
And seemed to prophesy their Sects decay;  
O that we (once) could see that happy day! 
Greenwels' resolution   
But hot-spurred Greenwell, being more resolute,  
More firy-spirited and dissolute,  
Boldly resolved (thence) away to post,  
To raise rebellion all about that coast;  
And instigates Recusants unto arms,  
With all his utmost Jesuitick-charms.  
Then at the house of Abbington, he meets  
With Hall a Jesuit, 
Hall a Jesuite.  and him kindly greets.  
And after greetings, doth him then advise  
To work as many as he could to rise.  
But Hall (as in a dump) a while did stay,  
Much doubting what therein to do or say.  
To whom so doubting Greenwell, thus, began,  
Why how now (brother Hall) what frights thee man?  
The difference, twixt a phlegmatic faint heart,  
I plainly understand (such as thou art)  
And me, 
Horrible impudence in holy Jesuites.  who am more choleric and hot,  
Why▪ man it moves not; fears not me a jot.  
And wilt thou (now) a milksop dastard be?  
And hide thy head, when there's most need of thee?  
Fie, fie for shame, take heart, be not afraid,  
And help me stir-up friends our foes t'invade,  
With martiall-might these heretics to slay,  
Nor must we now, to pause, the time delay.  
And, thus, away he flies, like northern-wind,  
And, as he passed, he published with false mind,  
A monstrous-lie through every town and city, 
A monstrous lie.   
That Catholics that night without all pity,  
By Protestants should all have murdered been,  
Hoping hereby rebellion to begin;  
Wishing them all take heed not to prolong  
To save themselves, but make resistance strong,  
If they desired in safety to abide,  
And for their wives and children to provide,  
And if they would their lives and lands possess,  
And free themselves from imminent distress.  
Then Hall the Jesuit, meeting (after this)  
With Littleton, who finding all amiss,  
Did urge the Priest therewith exceeding much,  
Told him it did his conscience nearly touch,  
And that he thought the Lord was much offended  
With such a course as so much blood intended.  
But Hall, as whitelivered, as late, he seemed,  
As harmless holy-lambes as theyare esteeemed,  
As simple Doves as Jesuits would appear,  
Now, doffs the mask which he (before) did wear.  
The violent and virulent hearts-gall,  
He, now, declares even of the Jesuits all.  
For why? instead of meek acknowledgement  
Of true contrition, heart right-penitent,  
Of late dissembled grief for this foul fault,  
When Greenwell him to stir-up rebels wrought.  
He devilishly began to justify  
Their most atrocious, 
Hall the Priest his devilish change & judgement on the fact  vicious villainy.  
And thus to Littleton's great doubt replied,  
Good Sir, you shoot your censure very wide.  
And much transgress 'gainst charities right laws,  
If by the ill-success you judge a cause.  
For why? th'eleven tribes, which two battles bent  
'Gainst Benjamin, at God's commandment,  
In both the conflicts those tribes had the worst,  
Shall we (Therefore) account their cause accursed?  
So, when as Lewis, King of France did fight  
Against the Turks, was by them put to flight,  
And, he himself (then) of the plague did die.  
The Christians, eke, defending valiantly  
Their town of Rhods, 'gainst pagan's, lost the same;  
Must we the cause (then) by th' event (here) blame?  
No, good Sir, no; our cause was just and right,  
How e'er the event hath proved amiss in sight.  
What better, greater cause to spend our bloods,  
Than for Religion to spend life and goods?  
Thus, thus, this bloody Jehuite did persuade  
That Papist, who was heerwith well apaid.  
Doubtless, great Lucifer could never find,  
More expert instruments to please his mind,  
Among his hellish-hags, more flinty-hearts,  
To act his most infernal tragick-parts;  
Than these inhuman Jesuits, Satan's sect,  
These most pernicious props, 
Hamon the Jesuit gives the traitor's absolution.  which Rome protect.  
To Robert Winter's house the rebels came,  
Where, that rank Jesuit of no little fame,  
Old faithless father Haman did reside,  
Whose heart with Romish zeal being fired & fried,  
When he, together did the traitors see,  
He gave them all his absolution free;  
Even, then, when they were in rebellion hot,  
And after the discovery of the plot.  
This holy father of that hell-spawned Sect,  
Told them their highpriest highly did respect  
Their zeal & would them Saints & Martyrs make, 
Romish Martyrs.   
Therefore he bade them all bold courage take.  
These pious words Ignatians-imp did utter,  
And, showed them the Popes 
* When the Steed is stolen, shut the Stable door.  pardon sealed with butter.  
Hell being, thus, broke-loose, though but a while,  
Sends-forth more hellhounds, bloodhounds fierce & vile.  
Grant, whose foul hopes, Heaven also foolified,  
To whom, none (yet) had these things certified,  
(For why? he kept his house and stirred not out,  
Till he supposed all (now) past fear or doubt,  
But thinking now the plot was fully ended,  
And that good-hap their hopes had well befriended)  
Now like a tiger-fierce abroad doth fling,  
Armed allover with foul-mischiefs sting.  
But, He which makes his reckoning and his prize,  
Without his host, must make his reckoning twice.  
And as the 40. Jews with devilish will,  
Swore, in an ambush, they St. Paul would kill:  
So Grant what he had sworn-to, 
Grants attempt.  long before,  
Now, hopes to execute, with rancour sore.  
And with his rabble of Recusants stout,  
Perfidious Papists, now, he issueth-out.  
And thus, by night, to Warwick-castle came,  
Where divers Nobles of great note and name,  
In time of peace, war's danger to prevent  
Fed and bred-up great horses for content.  
Those Grant did steal and to his camp convey,  
Their owners to confront; assault and slay.  
This most audacious fact, this strange ambition,  
This robbery-bold, quickly, bred much suspicion,  
In Sr. Fulk Grevill, th'elder, who was then,  
Lieutenant of that Shire: 
Sr. Fulke Grevill.  And bands of men  
Caused him like a faithful worthy Knight  
To muster-up in readiness for fight;  
And with all speed, to fortify those parts,  
And unto his assistance, wins the hearts  
Of all the chiefest Gentlemen there dwelling,  
Fearing (as 'twas indeed) some strange-rebelling;  
And wise directions he sent up and down,  
Into each village, place and neighbouring-town.  
So that as up and down the traitors went, 
A Smith smites Winter.   
A Smith to Winter such a sound-blow lent,  
As had not he been rescued, by the rout,  
He then had been laid-hold-on, past all doubt.  
But, at that time, the townsmen sixteen took,  
The rest, in haste their captived mates forsook.  
Now, as they fled (I mean, Grant and his mates)  
At length, he there himself associates  
With Catesby, Percy, and with all the rest,  
To whom then Catesby their estate expressed,  
Told Grant their enterprise was all descried,  
And that they must all hazards now abide.  
Thus as they altogether trooped in haste,  
Sr. Richard Verney from his confines chased  
These roaming-rebels, 
S Richard Verney.  who to worstershire,  
Betook themselves, as full of guilt as fear;  
Yet hoping (still) their numbers to augment,  
But, our good God their hopes did still prevent.  
Meanwhile that they thus roamed tumultuously, 
The Lord Harrington.   
The honoured Lord Harrington thereby,  
Who to his fame and praise, in princely state,  
With loyalty and love did educate  
The eldest Daughter of our sovereign King,  
The Lady Elizabeth that princely thing.  
Whose fear and fright him greatly pitied,  
Hearing how things were much disordered.  
He (Therefore) careful of his royal-gem,  
This princely-branch, sprung from a regal-stemm,  
Whom he more nearly, dearly tendered,  
Than his own-life; to him assembled  
And called about him all his faithful friends,  
Whom all his gates to lock he forthwith sends,  
And with a double-watch he strongly penned  
(All traitorous intentions to prevent)  
And fortified his house 'gainst ingruent fear:  
And yet his heart doubted her safety there,  
For in his private-house he thought not good  
Her long to keep, and thus in doubt he stood.  
But taking counsel, he most prudently,  
Resolved with all true fidelity  
To Coventry, the Princess to convey,  
Which from his house was distant no great way. 
The city of Coventry.   
Whose duteous Citizens good government  
Had made that city famous, eminent,  
Being also fenced with walls and bulwarks strong,  
Thither this peer the Princess led along.  
Whose Citizens with joy assembled are  
With joint consent themselves all to prepare,  
This princely-Lady, there to entertain,  
In glistering arms her safety to maintain.  
The City Major and all his brethren grave,  
Decking themselves in gowns and garments brave,  
With kindest salutations did her meet,  
And with most cordial welcomes did her greet,  
And finding fear oppressed her tender mind,  
All grief they banished, 
The Citizens comfort the Lady.  with these words most kind;  
Be comforted (sweet Princess) we you pray,  
Let all sad thoughts and fears be cast away.  
For we with all our Citizens are pressed,  
In your defence to show and manifest  
Our love and loyalty, to do you good,  
To spend our strength, our state, yea dearest blood,  
Our gold, our goods, our love and labours all,  
Yea, whatsoever is ours, you yours may call;  
We nought will spare (sweet Princess) you to pleasure,  
Even to the utmost of our lives and treasure.  
These words the tender Lady's heart rejoice,  
Whom, to the City they, with cheerful voice,  
Conduct unto a fair house well prepared,  
Befitting her estate and high regard,  
Most sumptuously set-out and richly dight,  
Where a strong guard was kept both day & night,  
And watch and ward the City round about,  
And careful search whoe'er went in or out.  
Now, all this while that band of bandogs rage,  
Sweating, entreating aid and equipage,  
For their affairs, but nothing did take place,  
As they did rove and rave, like Bears in chase;  
All was in vain, for none how bad soever,  
Would with them join, but from them part and sever,  
Nay, scarce, in one of all their own profession,  
Could all their plaints procure the least impression.  
Such was the hatred of their hellish deed,  
Such love of quietness sweet peace did breed!  
And when they had got all they could persuade,  
Some fourescore-people their most number made.  
Yea, when they had done all they could; threat, pray,  
Even their own-servants gladly shrunk away,  
Fearful of ill-success and conscience-prick,  
Knowing 'gainst thorns it was in vain to kick.  
But these outrageous Romists did conceit  
And fondly dream, in this their furious heat,  
That they were of small snowballs nature, right,  
Which rolled to and fro, grow to great height,  
And hugely are increased; these traitors, so,  
Thought rebels would like rivers to them flow;  
And sure supposed that what they had begun,  
In this one-part of England would be done  
By all the Catholics in other parts,  
And spur them on, with like rebellious hearts,  
To symbolize with them and arms to take,  
To join their might & power, strong head to make,  
Which, also, though their lying-Jesuites sought,  
Yet, heaven, their hellish hopes did bring to nought.  
Wherefore, like vagrants, straggling to and fro,  
Through all those parts they hopelessly did go,  
Of comfort, aid or counsel, quite bereft,  
And, as they passed, the people never left  
To prosecute with bitter execrations,  
The devilish agents of such conjurations.  
These miserable miscreants (then) did enter  
Into a mighty wood; and thence did venture  
To Holbeach, where, with desperate mood they came  
Into the house of Littleton by name.  
A spacious-house and able to contain  
These Romish rebels and their traitorous train. 
Littleton's house is their Sconce.   
Here, than they pitched their most nefarious tent,  
Drowned in despair, drenched in disparagement.  
Which whiles they were here lodged, as in their camp,  
Struck to their hearts much madness, wrath & damp.  
Like angry Bears who when their whelps are slain,  
Run up and down, ramp, rage and roar amain.  
The gates and doors, some lock-up and fast bar,  
Some whet their swords and fit themselves for war.  
Some do their pieces charge with powder & shot,  
Others their armour scour from stain or spot,  
Their vain and hair-braind-labour was but lost,  
And must them all their dearest heartblood cost. 
Sir Rich. Walsh besiegeth them.   
For now Sr. Richard Walsh the high-Shrive came,  
Besieged the house with soldiers, did proclaim  
Favour to those that yielded, stood not out,  
But utmost wrath to th'obstinate and stout,  
Fairly entreats them, then, not to resist,  
But peaceably from farther harm desist,  
To yield unto the mercy of their Prince,  
Or else he must their stubborn hearts evince.  
The Sumner in his Master's name, thus, said.  
But they like madd-men, him this answer made,  
Go tell thy Master we do scorn his threats,  
And hold as empty-air his wea● entreats.  
If he by dint of sword will force us yield,  
He must bring greater forces to the field.  
Wish him (Therefore) breakoff his female-fight,  
With silly-syllables our hearts to fright,  
That he must not contend with us in words;  
We'll fight it out and trust unto our swords.  
Thus when this valiant Gentleman did see  
Him and his counsel scorned, to arms flies he.  
Whiles things, thus, past, a most strange accident,  
A sore forerunner of due punishment,  
A tang and touch to meet their treason right  
Happened within; which did the traitors fright.  
Namely, 
A fore-running judgement.  that by a fire of wood did lie  
A bag of gunpowder to be made dry,  
Not far from which, nearer the fire of wood  
A trey of powder (there) uncovered stood: 
A trey of powder set on fire.   
Into which trey a crackling spark did glide,  
And, instantly, the trey and bag beside  
It fired, insomuch that furiously,  
It with fierce flames and smoke flew up on high, 
In quo peccavimus, in eodem plectimur.   
And with resistless rage (to amaze and wonder)  
The houses roof it reft and cleft asunder,  
And on the face of traitorous Catesby came,  
To his and all those Traitors stinging shame.  
Grants face it scorched, and Rookwoods' face also,  
Did not in this great judgement untouched go,  
But like the foul stigmatick-slaves most base  
Of Dionysius branded in their face,  
They marked were, their hearts and sense seemed dead,  
Their souls seemed in their bodies buried,  
All stood astonished, pale-faced, faint, affright,  
Their hair did stare with horror, 
winter's dream.  bolt up right.  
Yea, Robert Winter, but the day before,  
This fearful chance (to make his horror more)  
Dreamt, that he Churches saw, and as it were,  
Steeples to stand awry, and with much fear,  
That in those Churches he strange faces saw;  
This sad event, these to his thoughts did draw,  
And caused him, that, his dream to mind to call,  
And thereof, thus, made him resolve withal,  
That sure those faces which did there appear,  
Were right like these that now before him were;  
And did unto him rightly show the frame,  
And shapes of these whom thus the powder-flame  
Had scorched and burnt. This him amazed much,  
And did his traitorous heart most deeply touch.  
And, then, with guilty-consciences they eye,  
Their epidemic purposed treachery,  
Confessing Christ to be th'avenger just,  
Who turns the glory of the proud to dust.  
Then, they, their country's causeless woe do mind,  
The fires they should have kindled most unkind.  
Yea, than they seem to see the bloodshed great,  
Which to their harmless brethren they did threat.  
Which on the ground like rivers should have run, 
Seeming remorse in the traitors.   
And on their bended-knees, they (now) begun,  
To wring their hands with tears their faults confessing  
Beating their breasts, their groans, their griefs expressing,  
And now, too-late they do lament their folly,  
Acknowledging the Lord to be most holy,  
And this great judgement on them to be just,  
Cursing the time they did such counsel trust.  
Read, o ye Atheists, read and mark this well,  
Who are persuaded there's no heaven nor hell;  
Yea, read, o ye blind Romish Jebusites,  
Who think the Lord sees not your jugling-slights,  
Who think God marks not nor regards your deeds,  
Or else, who count hell's horror, crackling reeds.  
Saying, with Davids-fool, God sees us not,  
Th'almighty slumbers or hath us forgot.  
O, if ye have not brows more hard than brass,  
Or if one spark of grace may from you pass,  
Then, think, nay be assured the Lord doth fight  
For his afflicted flock, their wrongs to right.  
Yea, know that God's invincible strong arm,  
The righteous and religious saves from harm.  
And that he (sure) can catch at unawares,  
Malicious proud men in their nets and snares.  
And pouder-plotters burn in such like flame,  
As they for others impiously did frame.  
And like Perillus, 
Perillus.  that rare engine-maker,  
Of others peril they are prime-partaker.  
O let this (Therefore) tell all traitors hearts,  
That heaven will (surely) pay them their deserts.  
But, to proceed. The hooded hypocrite,  
A while may cozen & cog and cheat men's sight,  
But long it shall not last, heaven will detrude  
Their impious visards, wherewith they delude  
The eyes of mortal men, and this abuse  
The Lord will to their sorrow (soon) reduce.  
For presently, their temporizing tears  
Were dried up, no shame in them appears.  
All former seeming sorrows quite forsaken,  
And their new virtue proves old-vice mistaken.  
A sudden madness did all grace push-out,  
Opening the gates they armed all rushout,  
And like mad-dogs or Gaderens devilish hogs, 
The traitors grow desperate.   
Despairing with their conscience heavy-clogs,  
They headlong run among their enemies,  
Smiting on all-sides in most desperate wise.  
Vowing and swearing, since, such was their fate,  
To sell their hateful blood at a dear rate.  
The valiant high-Shrieve, seeing 'twas in vain,  
(As was declared) by love them to constrain,  
To due submission; with true martial heat,  
Resolves them thereunto with blows to beat. 
They now fight pell mell Rookwood and Winter are shot, and both the Wrights are slain.   
Stoutly they fight on both sides; these for fame,  
The others fight with desperate fear and shame,  
Than Thomas Winter vaunting in the Court,  
And traitorous Rookwood one of this consort,  
Th' one shot in's shoulder, lost the use of's arm,  
Tother with shot had also no small harm.  
Then, both the Wrights with halberds (there) were slain,  
Which, much discouraged their perfidious train.  
With cursed Catesby, 
Catesby, Percy and Winter fight all three together.  Percy pestilent  
Doth join himself, and to them Winter went.  
And, thus, this knot of knaves fought back to back,  
And Winter at their sides doth hold them tack,  
Placing themselves in manner like a wedge,  
And, thus, they boldly fought with eager edge.  
The traitors smite about with furious blows,  
These to defend, 
Simile.  those to offend their foes.  
And like the fight of bulls (as Stories say)  
By sturdy Dogs assaulted on the way,  
And sorely set upon; they, tail to tail,  
With their strong horns the furious dogs assail:  
But, as Alcides, though most stout and strong,  
Or Theseus brave could not continue long  
'Gainst many foes, maugre their courage bold,  
No more could these their enemies long hold.  
For at them, presently, a piece was shot,  
Whose bullet both those traitors deadly smote. 
Percy and Catesby are slain.   
Through Percies & through Catesby's cursed heart  
The bullet pierced to their deadly smart;  
When with a deep life-yielding hollow groan,  
Unable to subsist, they both fell prone  
Upon the Earth, struggling with pangs of death,  
And quickly gasped their last accursed breath.  
And like two mighty Oaks whose branches high  
Did seem (just now) to touch the lofty-sky, 
Simile.   
But by a rapid whirlwind in the air  
Are blown and overthrown; whose branches are  
Laid low upon the ground, the boughs made meat  
For cattle in the field to browse and eat.  
Thus, to those graceless Champions of the Pope  
(Who had already) swallowed up in hope,  
England's fair Realm and seat-imperial,  
It did directly happen, justly fall.  
Who thus, I say, in hellish fond conceit  
Had climbed the top of high promotions seat,  
But see (I say) their huge pyramids  
Of hateful pride (for so it heaven did please)  
With shame was shattered into pieces small,  
Their flesh made food for birds & worms that crawl.  
But, Rookwood, Winter, Grant, alive were taken,  
And all the rest of comfort (soon) forsaken. 
The traitors apprehended.   
Here Robert Winter having stoutly fought,  
But, now, unable, longer to hold-out,  
His Catiline and hot Cethegus slain,  
By his fierce foes, alive, was quickly ta'en.  
But with a Pike in's belly (first) received  
A dangerous wound, 
Winter wounded in the belly.  yet, not of life bereaved.  
Now, all the rest being taken and disarmed,  
(By prick of conscience, than deaths fear more harmed)  
Were thus subjected unto justice stroke,  
Their fainting hearts confounded, wounded, broke.  
And as the custom is, with hempen bands  
They were fast bound, behind their backs their hands.  
And so to London, 
The traitors are conveyed to London.  fast on horseback tied,  
They were conveyed: whom people as they' Spied,  
Did all the way they went, still flock to meet,  
And them with execrable curses greet.  
And so to London being brought, at last,  
In prison with fetters they were locked fast.  
And not long after was the appointed day  
For their arraignment. When in grave array,  
Nobles and Judges, 
Their arraignment.  as the cause required,  
Unto their Judgement came; where with admired  
And learned eloquence, deliberately,  
The King's attorney (then) did signify  
And recapitulate from first to last  
Each most material action which had past.  
And found them guilty of that damned intention,  
Crossed (thus) in th' act, by heavens, alone, prevention.  
The Judges (Than pronounced their sentence due;  
And, on the traitors all in open view,  
Was execution done in divers places,  
To the most just confusion of their faces.  
On th'upper-house of Parliament, most high,  
(A just reward of horrid treachery)  
Catesby's and Percies heads were fixed fast, 
Catesby's and Percies heads are set on the Parliament house.   
(To use the prophet's words) like a ship-mast,  
That passers-by might to each other tell,  
The just deserved issue that befell  
Unto those roving, robbing Pirates vile,  
Who hoped to rife by treason, theft and guile;  
Who by ambitious and pernicious ways,  
The golden-fleece did hope to them to raise,  
Not by stout Jason's valour and brave grace,  
But by Medaea's sorceries most base,  
They gaped (I say) a golden-fleece to gain,  
A glorious-realm to swallow; but in vain.  
Wasps (thus) we see, make combs as well as Bees,  
But, for sweet honey, workout pouder-lees.  
Their hearts contained nought but sulphurous wind,  
And foul effects of a most treacherous mind.   



PErfidious Fauks, whose hopes were lately high  
By Treason to be raised to Dignity;  
By Justice, finds Treason retaliated,  
His Head upon a Pole high elevated:  
That All may see God's vengeance prosecuting,  
The proudest Traitors, treason executing.    

The wanderfull deliverance— 1605  

OUr great Jehovah having brought to light  
This deep-design full fraught with Romish-spight;  
The fame thereof through all the Realm being blazed,  
The people's hands and hearts to Heaven are raised:  
They prayers and praises send to Israel's King,  
They bounteous-Bonfires make, their bells they ring:  
Triumphing in their Streets with fireworks rare,  
Rockets, Fire-wheeles, Fire-drakes flying in the air,  
Fierce-mounting fireballs blazing in the Skies,  
Quick cracking Squibs to please beholders eyes:  
And, All heart-cheering signs of Joy express,  
Being, thus, redeemed from Death and dire distress.    
THen see you pole-shorn Papists what's the end  
Which all your traitorous projects doth attend.  
See you Achitophel's, you Jesuits all,  
What prize doth to your Absalon's befall. 
Malum confilium consultori pessimum.   
Bad counsel, still, to authors false-out worst,  
An impious-project gains an end-accurst.  
For, these, who, like great Consuls would have reigned,  
As false conspirators were, 
Empedocles.  now, arraigned.  
And like as fond Empedocles did cast  
Himself int' Aetna's fire, hoping t'have past  
Unspide of any in the furious flame,  
And so beheld a god with endless fame:  
But, when the flame his slippers did retort,  
His hair-brained-folly was the people's sport:  
So, these, which hoped, which fondly hoped t'have got  
Saints names (at least) by this their Aetnean plot,  
God (who in mercy did their mischief see,  
And such strange folly in their hearts to be)  
The slippers of discovery did cause  
To foolifie their deified applause.  
And by this blessed Catastrophe, to call  
(Instead of that usurped name they all  
Hoped-for, to wit, Rome's meritorious-Martyrs)  
And justly term them, most notorious traitors.  
And cursed be they which call such evil good,  
Accursed Rome's doctrines grounded (thus) on blood.  
Most deadly-sick was Catesby and his train,  
Of Achab's sickness, 
Achab's.  none could ease his pain,  
His stomach was with Naboth's ground so cloyed;  
Till bloody Jesabell her skill employed  
To give him physic with poor Naboth's blood.  
But these, vile Achab's case far worser stood,  
For; why? although their greedy appetite  
Old Achab's did exceed, with gaping spite,  
And that this upstart Jesabell of Rome  
Did us to death with greater mischief doom;  
Yet, since they could not kill nor yet possess,  
They were in far more desperate wretchedness,  
In silence, here, I cannot pretermit,  
How that these traitors past all grace or wit, 
Note this remarkable observation.   
In conscience touched did at their death profess,  
That, what they did, was for Rome's holiness;  
That, for advancement of the catholic-cause,  
They, thus, had plunged themselves into hell's jaws.  
And that they had for their more firm direction,  
The precepts of Rome's faith and full protection,  
The zeal whereof did strongly them incite  
To execute whatever, with all their might:  
Which precepts are, by force, fraud or deceit,  
To cog, collogue, to threat, entreat and cheat,  
By just or unjust means, by bulls or bans  
Huguenots, Calvinists and Lutherans,  
To prosecute, to cutoff, and to kill  
All that oppose their holy Pope's great will.  
For all's most true, they teach, which Rome doth say?  
Or charge her children; for she cannot stray.  
Hence we may note that Rome's rebellious seed,  
All other malefactors far exceed;  
For, though it cannot be gainsaid, withstood,  
But some in all professions are not good;  
But do offend by treason, murder, theft,  
For which, they justly are of life bereft,  
Yet when they are to die, they ne'er accuse  
The Doctrine or Religion which they use, 
Note this.   
To be the cause that they did so transgress,  
Or stain themselves with such soul-guiltiness.  
But that their natural bad inclination,  
And want of grace brought them to desolation;  
But these besotted eat-gods, void of shame,  
Do not their nature, but religion blame;  
These foule-birds, thus, their own nests do bewray,  
And, if in aught, herein, the truth they say.  
But, o, o misery, beyond compare,  
That with such baseness they contented are!  
O, if the understandings-eye be blind,  
How hard it is truths perfect paths to find!  
If once the Lord unto ourselves us leave,  
How hard, the truth from error to perceive.  
O woe to those which lock-up heavens blessed gates  
Both from themselves and their seduced mates.  
O strong delusions, as St. Paul doth call them,  
How can it choose but danger must befall them!  
O poisonous-cup of Romish fornication,  
To be bewitched by such strange incantation!  
O, if the blind do lead the blind, both stumble!  
Nay, both do headlong into mischief tumble.  
O, what true Christian, Protestant, is he  
That does not from truths-fountain clearly see  
That God in vengeance, and in judgement just,  
Such doctors and such doctrines, sure, will thrust  
To hell's deep-pit (at last) whence first they rose,  
Which do Christ's wholsome-doctrins so oppose.  
For, what says Christ, the spring of verity,  
To all his Saints, for all posterity?  
My dear Disciples go and teach each Nation,  
Baptising all men to regeneration.  
Clean contrary, this base-child of perdition,  
The Pope of Rome, with hellish admonition,  
His blinde-disciples, thus, most blindly teacheth,  
To his proud-Proselites this Doctrine preacheth.  
Go extirpate, kill and confound each nation,  
Which doth refuse our yoke and usurpation.  
O are not these foul broods of vipers vile,  
And Pluto's Locusts full of fraud and guile?  
Yea, are they not the very spawn of Hell,  
The furies of Avernus fierce and fell?  
Satan their father's footsteps imitating,  
By sword and fire fair virtue ruinating,  
From whose most damned counsel and consent,  
They, spider-like this Stygian-poyson vent,  
Which treacherous Faux, that vessel full of vice,  
To us, to minister, they did entice.  
Doubtless the devil was not a little glad,  
That he that Popish-prey and purchase had;  
For, to those Romish friends might Pluto say,  
As they, 
The devil to the traitors in hell.  with him, in Tartar's flashings lay,  
You see brave friends th' effect of our intentions,  
Hells secrets, hidden counsels, strange inventions,  
Which, though they have not wrought as we intended,  
Yet are they not, with this plot wholly ended.  
Indeed I must confess we did expect  
A greater harvest, 
Mark this.  and more full effect  
Of our designs: But this shall now suffice,  
●ntill we can procure a 
* This hath been most fully confirmed by Satan and his Agents, our Church & State projectors, in this lately discovered plot, by our blessed Parliament, 1641. which would have far transcended this of the powder-plot had it taken effect. O the desperate inventions of man's more than devilish heart!  richer prize.  
For yet, we hope fortune, hereafter, may  
Grant us a time more mischief to display,  
And to the full our counsels to contrive,  
To make our stratagems more fairly thrive,  
Nor shall this fact our counsels quite deny  
Our future hopes. Hell is not, yet, drawn-dry,  
Our coffers are not empty (yet, indeed,  
This last did all our others, far exceed)  
Which, aftertimes may taste-of to their pain,  
As fast as we can grace and favour gain,  
With our choice 
* Hos ô rex magne caveto.  friends in Court Rome's champions bold,  
For, these are they which all our hopes uphold.  
This said, fly Satan, those his agents all,  
Leaves to themselves in sense of endless thrall.  
The customary practice of the devil,  
Who, when he hath suggested men to evil,  
First, makes them sin, and when they are to die,  
Comfortless leaves them in their misery,  
Void of all help, full of disconsolation,  
Headlong to tumble into dire damnation.  
Mark this, o ye, whose hearts with deep devotion,  
Are so bewitched with Circe's poisonous potion,  
With love of Rome's great whore, recall, recall,  
Your understanding from her devilish thrall;  
Abjure that Doctrine, cease to call them blessed,  
In whom such maps of mischief are expressed,  
Learn with relenting tears, repenting heart,  
From Rome's false juggling Jebusites to part.  
Those subtle Sirens from you to repel,  
Those impious Amorites, Magogs' of hell.  
O take unto you Christ's collyrium sweet,  
And you shall see how they from truth do fleet,  
Yea, you shall, then, perspicuously perceive,  
How, they sound faith do hate and wholly leave:  
How they true saving knowledge paths pervert,  
How they God's Saints with malice do begirt,  
Assaulting them with mischief and despite;  
Yet shall the just prevail and stand upright.  
For why? both Christ and all the heavenly host  
Do fight for them whereof they well may boast.  
Yea from the stars, according to their kind,  
They day & night, do sweet protection find  
O, why doth man, then, Christ's true Church disturb,  
Since heaven resists him and his wrath doth curb?  
O thou great guider of the heavens high, 
A grateful return to the Lord our sole deliverer.   
Who by thy thunder dost All terrify,  
Almighty ruler of the earth below,  
In promise just, to anger very slow!  
O, how can we sufficiently recount  
Thy condign-praise, which doth the heavens surmount,  
Thou didst us save from slaughtering sword and fire,  
From those which 'gainst thy laws our lives conspire.  
From miserable massacre and death,  
Thou only zions-saviour gav'st us breath.  
And as from teeth of greedy savage Bears  
Didst us recover and redeem from fears.  
Thou, only-thou, by power of thy right hand,  
Didst for us most unworthy wretches stand,  
And our poor silly sinful souls preserve,  
Even, then, when we from thee, by sin did swerve,  
We though thy foes, yet did thy mercy find,  
Thou wast most courteous, when we were unkind.  
Though we, alas, daily delight in sin,  
Endangering heavens loss, our lusts to win,  
Quenching thy Spirit in us, fostering the flesh,  
Like dogs to vomit, sinning still a fresh,  
Contemning thy behests and holy name,  
Using thy Saints with scornful scoffs and shame.  
Choosing the wrong, forsaking the right way,  
Blindly persisting, when we go astray;  
Labouring to please ourselves, though displease thee,  
Thinking to live as Saints, yet goodness flee,  
Neglecting thee and thine, preferring more  
Our profit, pleasure, thy sweet grace before.  
O let thy grace our graceless hearts revive,  
O let us not still live, as dead alive;  
Sleeping in sin, fearless of sins great fears;  
O turn our eyes into a spring of tears,  
O give us grace the old-man to forsake,  
And with true-faith, fast-hold on Christ to take.  
Illuminate the blindness of our heart,  
And grant (dear father) though not for desert,  
That we may see the ill that we have done,  
With tears, it seen, we may desire to shun.  
And with incessant sighs and groaning grief,  
Give grace to wail our wants and find relief.  
Yea, feed us, Lord, with heavenly manna sweet,  
Thy sacred word, o guide our wandering feet  
To tread the paths which lead to lasting pleasure,  
To which, all other best terrestrial treasure  
Is but dry moss and dross, foul dirt and clay,  
Vain butterflies for fools or children's play.  
O lift our souls, our heavenborn souls more high,  
To seek their riches in Heavens-treasury.  
That as Christ's name with tongue we do profess,  
So by our works we may our faith express.  
The year preceding this was fatal found,  
When a great-plague infectiously did wound,  
Full many a thousand of our brethren dear,  
And next this powder-plot we scaped most near.  
For, thy strong-hand, o Lord, the slaughtering blade  
Did back retort, and those our foes dismayed.  
These things, good God, do plainly testify  
That we have much provoked thy clemency.  
That our great sins have highly thee displeased,  
And yet how quickly is thy wrath appeased.  
Thou showest thy rod, and mildly dost it shake,  
That we might see thy grace and sin forsake.  
And as a mother chastizing her child,  
Deals with it in affection sweet and mild,  
Loathly lifts up her hand, 
Simile.  soon lets it fall,  
And presently her anger doth recall:  
Even so, o Lord, most like a Parent kind,  
Do we thy love and tender mercies find.  
But if nor words nor warnings will reclaim us,  
Thy punishment, great God, will justly tame us.  
And, doubtless, though the Lord to wrath be slow,  
Yet, if, too-far provoked, he down will throw  
The viols of his wrath, his ire will burn,  
Against the wicked which will not return,  
From vanity; like stubble in the field,  
They shall consume and to his judgements yield,  
Then, let us, o let us with special care,  
Learn both to love and fear God and declare  
The gospel's fruits in our lives reformation,  
And by the Lords so frequent exhortation,  
T'abominate proud Babel, just men's foe,  
That Seat of Antichrist, where sin doth flow,  
The very basis of impiety,  
The cage of unclean-birds of villainy.  
Of which, I may affirm and justly hold  
That though thou hadst Alcides' courage bold,  
Thou couldst not cleanse Rome's sin-polluted-hals  
More foul, by far, than foul Augea's stalls.  
That so, that ancient Prophets true prediction,  
Of Babel's bane, of Rome's proud whore's conviction,  
This age (in God's due time) to pass may bring;  
This conquest great, Lord, grant unto our King,  
Whose life, 
A prayer for the King and State.  as 'tis most precious in thy sight,  
So let thy glory shine in his great might,  
To propagate and farther to extend  
The gospel's glorious sunshine, and to bend  
His utmost wisdom to discern and hate  
The fly and secret foes of Church and State,  
To love the good, the haughty to suppress,  
To maintain virtue, beat-down wickedness.  
That Justice like a river with swift source  
May flow with streams of uncorrupted course,  
Through all the kingdom, that in peace he may  
This noble realm with grace and glory sway.  
That all the Nobles and right noble-Peers,  
Whose hearts this thy great love and mercy cheers,  
The most illustrious Senate of this Land  
May fear thy name and gospel's foes withstand.  
And, for so great, so good deserts, so free,  
So blessed deliverance, life and liberty,  
Grant from that sacred-house, such laws divine  
May be established and performed, in fine,  
As may redouned to th' honour, joy and health  
Of King & subjects, Church & commonwealth,  
That these most cruel cursed Canaanites, 
A recapitulation of Rome's abominations.   
These sons of Edom, Churches Ismaelites,  
The props and pillars of that shameless-whore  
Who even as sheep to die, had marked us o'er,  
May be cutoff from 'mongst us, which so long  
Have wrought & sought our peace to break & wrong.  
Which like inhuman barbarous parricides,  
Like cursed cannibals, vile homicides,  
Would cut their parent's throat, their Country dear,  
With one-fierce blow, to make their passage clear.  
Who plot and practise guiltless-blood to spill,  
Teaching as most true doctrine, Kings to kill,  
Delighting most in rapine, theft and lies,  
Forbidding marriage, not adulteries;  
Yea incest and such other sins of shame,  
They slight esteem, which Christians should not name.  
Whose Pope and holy priesthood, for their gain,  
Their odious Stews in public do maintain,  
Most impudently counting it no shame  
A yearly tribute for such cause to claim.  
Whose practice is to cozen and dissemble,  
Whose blasphemies do make the godly tremble.  
Who do by grounds of their Religion hold  
(That which nor Turks, nor Jews, nor pagan's bold,  
Nor any other heretics whatever,  
Nor those of Calycut, which serve and fear  
The devil) to kill their King (O most notorious)  
For conscience-sake, and say 'tis meritorious;  
Who mingle with God's word, yea, do prefer  
Their own traditions, causing men to err;  
Using, abusing Scripture as they lust,  
And do esteem the same a thing most just,  
Teaching for truths the dreams of filthy friars,  
Slandering God's word like most nefarious liars.  
Who, both the laws of God and man abuse,  
(The Turks, I say, more vileness, scarce, can use)  
Breaking the bands of blessed humanity,  
Of serious vows and hospitality.  
Savage Assyria, surely, never saw  
Th' impieties which Rome maintains by law.  
O why, then, favour we these poisonous snakes,  
With whom what Realm or people long partakes,  
In which Rome's furious fangs are not descried,  
Who are not curbed and crushed by Romish-pride?  
O, if we will persist them (still) to spare,  
Let's blame ourselves, if we fall in their snare.  
Thee, 
England the landmark of all God's mercies.  thee (O England) I may happy call  
Thou little-isle, whom father Neptune's wall,  
And mighty arms embrace; I passed all doubt,  
May term thee happiest, all the world throughout;  
If thou didst truly know thy blessed estate,  
Or heavens rich mercies wouldst commemorate.  
If in the tables of a thankful heart,  
Thou wouldst imprint God's love; to all impart  
By registers of never-ending days  
The endless, matchless, due deserved praise  
Of thy ay-living, all-good-giving King,  
Who still doth fill thy heart with each good thing.  
O, say, how oft and from what great assaults  
Which were brought on thee for thy grievous faults,  
Hath heaven's freegrace, most safely thee protected;  
God in his mercy having thee respected.  
And when thou wast in dangers almost drowned,  
Thy proud prefumptuous foes he did confound. 
The Armado in 88   
Witness that grand-assault in eighty-eight,  
When faithless Spain with impious pride and hate  
Insulting and consulting, vaunting loud,  
Thy fearful, final, fatal woe had vowed.  
And his great madness to that pass had brought,  
That English-seas with Spanish-ships were fraught.  
But how did God (maugre their might and spite)  
Make winds and Seas and all for thee to fight.  
Wracking their Ships, chaining their Princes great,  
Swallowing the rest in Seas for fishes meat?  
How hath the Lord other great mercies shown,  
Calming gavel-civil discords grown  
In this thy Realm, 
The Baron's wars.  in former days of old,  
Which oft were raised by thy Barons bold?  
How did the Lord in blessed Eliza's days,  
To his eternal glory and just praise,  
(Beside that eighty-eights great victory)  
Redeem thy crown and state from jeopardy  
Of many private Popish-treacheries, 
Treasons against Q. Elizabeth.   
Which by their agents Rome did still devise,  
Against the Person of that peerless-queen,  
Whose equal, hardly, all the world hath seen,  
How did thy God watch over her for good,  
And nip those traitor's hopes, even in the bud?  
Lopping their sprigs, cropping them in the flower,  
That they could ne'er take root nor raging-power.  
How often hath the Lord from thee withheld, 
The pestilence in Ao. 1628.   
His all-devouring plagues which would have queled  
And quenched the glory of abused-peace,  
When God had filled thy heart with joys increase?  
And though thy sins and gross ingratitude  
Did make thee taste the sharp amaritude  
Of a late furious raging pestilence,  
Which, with most deplorable vehemence  
Devoured rich and poor, made desolate,  
Thy houses, Churches, streets, in woeful state,  
Without respect of simple or of sage,  
Of Cottage or of Palace, sex or age:  
Yet, o yet with what wondrous admiration  
Did thy great Lord, on thy humiliation,  
Most strangely and most suddenly command  
His angel to withdraw his wounding-hand,  
And in a moment (as it were) to cease  
Thy weekly thousands to a clear decrease.  
How oft, 
fear of famine.  I say, hath thy Almighty God  
Withheld the fangs of famine's pinching-rod,  
By parching drought, or by immoderate rain,  
To break thy staff of bread in corn and grain?  
Instead whereof, how doth thy land, still, flow,  
With milk and honey? How fair doth it show,  
With peace and plenty's blessed harmony,  
With every mercies sweet variety?  
Like fertile Canaan, 
England like unto Canaan.  no land ere did find  
Dame nature's bounty in like copious kind.  
Thus, thou o England justly seem'st to be  
A pleasant Paradise, wherin's the Tree  
Of knowledge, wherewith thou art most endued;  
Another world, all things (a fresh) renewed.  
A Land (I say) which doth all nations pass,  
As far as crystal does thick-spotted-glass.  
And yet to make thy glory more complete,  
The Lord hath given thee Manna, 
Manna.  angel's meat,  
The glorious sunshine of his word divine,  
Thy bliss and blessedness more clear to shine;  
The everlasting gospel, spring of grace,  
The precious pearl which wisdom doth purchase.  
Thus is thy Land the Land of Goshen right,  
Both for the gospel's power and pureness bright.  
Do but compare this thy felicity  
With other Nations foggy misery,  
Who stifled are, as 'twere, in piteous case  
With cloudy ignorance and error base:  
Living, alas, in beastlike wretchedness,  
As in the shade of death most comfortless.  
Without the knowledge of or Christ or God,  
Without whose knowledge, als a dirty-clod.  
Worshipping for the glorious Lord most high,  
(Unto their souls eternal misery)  
Dumb-idols, rotten-timber, metals vile,  
Far fitter underfoot to tread and spoil.  
Again, to make thee yet and yet more blessed,  
To make thy lustre shine past all the rest,  
Hath not the Lord in thee most richly placed  
The light of justice, 
Justice.  wherewith thou art graced.  
Whereby thy people's houses, Castles are,  
Themselves, their states freed from offensive care,  
Of wrong or robbery: Thus thy beauty shines,  
Whiles all-men sit in peace under their vines.  
But of all temporal blessings under heaven,  
Which ever were to any Nation given,  
The power and praise of God most to advance,  
All come most short of this Deliverance.  
This monstrous, 
The Popish powder-plot.  matchless, Popish powder-treason  
Beyond the power of former reach or reason,  
This Quintessence of barbarous treachery  
Transcendeth all of past antiquity. 
England too justly taxed with ingratitude   
And cannot these sweet mercies manifold  
Thy heart with cords of gratitude withhold  
From sinning 'gainst thy God, him to provoke  
To smite thee deeplier with some heavier stroke?  
Yea, canst thou (England) canst thou possibly  
Be so o'erwhelmed in stupidity?  
So sottish, senseless, impiously ingrate,  
As to forget, or to obliterate  
Out of thy thankeful-heart, the odious smell  
Of this projected powder-smoke of hell,  
So long as ever thou a kingdom art?  
O do it not, least heaven doth make thee smart,  
By some as strange a plague (if it may be)  
When he such gross ingratitude shall see.  
But rather, all thy power and parts employ,  
To evidence thy hearts triumphing joy,  
To bless thy God for this thy new-Salvation,  
To keep That-day with endless recordation,  
Christ freed thy soul from hellfire; and this fire  
Than any other flame to hells came nigher.  
That-day, which they Britan's black-day would see,  
Novembers 5. Britan's bright-day shall be.  
The day was Tuesday, but by Popish-spight  
Papists Ash-wednesday, it had been more right.  
For ever, then, fell Popelings, howl, lament,  
Your Romish power-pieties intent,  
For all the Oceans-floods will ne'er make clean,  
(Perfidious Rome) thy knavish-sink obscene,  
England's Transalpinated Papistry  
Hath (often) wrought blood-smearing cruelty,  
Bred our Transmarine-Travellers light mind,  
Then let them be (by law) t'our homes confined.  
For, as was said, This detestable fact  
Was counselled, couraged by the Pope's compact.  
For He that bids do, what's so ill-done, He  
Must stay the work, or else Its author be.  
Had he not cast paternal-care from's heart,  
He'd ne'er have played such a Step-fathers part.  
Who from his Bubble-bellowing bulls belched-out  
All's Caco-curses, hellish-broyles about.  
Saying, thus, let one-day all great Britain make  
One-grave, whose name in future days shall slake,  
Vice's viceroy, or vice itself is He,  
Who peters-chair soils with such villainy.  
Forget not (then, I say) but ever hate  
Rome's Pope and Papists, foes to Church and State:  
Who in their calmest-case do but couch-low  
To watch advantage for a deadlier blow.  
Hugg not such vipers in your bosoms then;  
Foster not festering Snakes in shapes of men,  
Within your houses, much less in your hearts  
By loving, liking, pleading on their parts.  
lest, thus, you more than seem most graceless sots,  
Hankering after Egypt's foul fleshpots,  
By temporizing tricks, backsliding ways,  
Till God's fierce wrath you thus against us raise.  
Let us take heed we surfeit not in store,  
And turning grace to wantonness grow poor,  
Poor in our souls, barren in piety,  
And so be made the maps of misery.  
Be not more blind than Earth-devouring Moles,  
Who love to grovel underground in holes:  
Or so unthankful as the sottish Swine,  
Who eat up Acorns, but ne'er cast their ey'ne,  
Up to the oak from whence they to him fell,  
Who thus their Swinish-nature plainly tell:  
So do not thou thy brutish-heart declare,  
Receive not blessings, but with grateful care  
To retribute unto thy God above,  
According to his great redundant love.  
Shake-off, shake-off, and shun such brutishness,  
With thankful heart acknowledge and confess  
The most admired, least deserved favour  
Of thy so gracious God, so sweet a Saviour.  
Who plenteously replenisheth and fills  
Thy soul with blessings, Nectar-drops distils  
Of favours of his left and his right-hand  
On soul and body, and doth guardian stand,  
Still to refel, repel the dangers great,  
Which thy worst foes could menace, work or threat.  
Snatching the prey out of their hungry jaws,  
Recovering it from their most bloody claws.  
Thrusting them headlong into their own pit,  
Breaking their teeth, wherewith they would have bit,  
Nay utterly have swallowed at one meal,  
Our Kingdom, King, Peers, Prophets, Common-weal.  
Which thee with amiable-peace hath blessed,  
Such as our predecessors ne'er possessed,  
And such (I fear) as our Posterity  
Are never like to see and taste and try. 
Deus nobis haec otia fecit.   
Yea, God alone hath given us this great rest,  
His liberal-love these mercies hath expressed,  
That God (I say) whose majesty and might,  
Whose greatness, goodness, justice, most upright,  
The heavens, 
An exhortation to give all the praise to God alone  the earth, deep seas & works of wonder,  
Rain, hail, frost, snow, loud winds, lightning & thunder,  
Do mightily shew-forth, tell and declare;  
What Heathen-god with thy God can compare?  
He is thy Saviour, Sun and Shield most strong  
To whom doth all true praise and laud belong,  
Both for thy being and thy best-estate,  
Whose tender mercies most compassionate,  
Whose patience, power and pity infinite,  
All people shall to future times recite.  
O let us (then) o let us never cease  
On trumpets loud to make his praise increase;  
In heart and voice his mercies to record,  
By Hymns and Psalms to laud the living Lord.  
To sound his fame unto the Indian-coasts,  
To those whose clime continual-sommer roasts.  
Let Phoebus first leave-off his annual race,  
Let Phoebe want her monthly-borrowed grace;  
Let Neptune stop the ocean's billowing source,  
Let nature want (in all things) wont course;  
Yea, Lord, then, let us cease to be, I pray,  
When in oblivion we this mercy lay.  
But doubtless, if this duty we neglect,  
The Lord most justly will this sin correct,  
And on our heads his heavy hand will fall,  
And turn our honey into bitterest gall.  
Nothing the Lord can worse endure or hate,  
Than thankless persons and a mind ingrate.  
The husbandman that sows most plenteously,  
The greater Harvest hopes in equity.  
The land which nought but thorns & thistles yields  
Though well manured, no man regards such fields.  
Since God hath given, he looketh to receive,  
O let's take heed how we our duty leave.  
Did God with grievous punishments afflict  
His holy-off-spring, when they did addict  
And give themselves to vanity and lust,  
And him that fed them, so forget, distrust.  
Abusing his most gracious clemency,  
His patience, love and longanimity;  
If he did his peculiar-people' Destroy,  
Who, first, his laws and worship did enjoy,  
If, thus, for their ingratitude it fared,  
If they were smitten and might not be spared,  
Alas, what madness should us Gentiles move,  
To think that God of us will more approve?  
And since he hath cut-down his choisest-vine,  
Because it would not to his word incline,  
Thinkst thou the fruitless wilde-Olive shall stand,  
Unprofitably comb'ring his good land?  
O, no; he'll make it wither (soon) and die,  
Like to our saviour's barren figtree dry.  
And thou whom God hath, thus, with mercies blessed,  
If thankless, shalt with dangers be distressed.  
Yea multitudes of mischiefs will thee follow,  
And thee in treasons greedy-jawes will swallow.  
Yea, troops of traitors (then) shall daily strive,  
Of life and liberty thee to deprive.  
Wherefore that thou, o England, still Mayst have  
God's friendly favour, thee from foes to save,  
Preach and proclaim with heart and hearty cheer,  
With thanks & praise, each hour & month & year.  
This matchless-mercy of thy loving Lord,  
And it on marble-pillars, aye, record.  
Yea, teach thy children's children to rejoice,  
To sing Gods-prayses with shrill-sounding voice.  
And every way his name and fame to rear  
For this so great Deliverance. And to bear  
A zealous hatred, deadly detestation  
To Rome's false doctrines, base abomination.  
Thou, then, the God of our inheritance,  
Thy zions Saviour, strong deliverance,  
Our part, our portion, buckler, staff and stay,  
Under thy wings, preserve us (still) we pray.  
Make void and frustrate Rome's most hateful pride.  
The cause is thine (O Lord) stand on our side.  
Resist their rage; for 'gainst thy Church they rave,  
And let thy people thy protection have.  
Revenge the blood of thy distressed Saints,  
And when they grieve, relieve their sad complaints.  
O Lord, we pray thee bless and dress thy Vine,  
Thy Love, thy Dove, this little-flock of thine.  
Yea, Lord at all times, in extremest straits,  
Thy sacred arms upon our armies waits,  
Thy help is present and thy presence sweet,  
To foil our foes and cast them at our feet.  
Thou, Lord, dost cause the fell Monocerate,  
To bear on's brow a sovereign-antidote.  
Wherefore, this wondrous work of thine, o Lord,  
Our voice, our verse, for ever, shall record.  
Our hearts we will incline thy praise to sing,  
Even thy great name; o our celestial King.  
In every house, Shire, City, Street and Temple,  
And teach our children this by our ensample.  
Throughout the Kingdom, we thy fame will raise,  
While vital-breath from death prolongs our days.  
And tell this thy great work to every Nation,  
While Sun and Moon shine in their cloudy-station.  
Our singers shall sing Psalms to thee on high,  
O blessed, blessed, blessed-Trinity.    
FINIS.  

An Epigram to Jesuites, the principal Disturbers of Peace and Unity; the authors and Firebrands of Sedition and Treachery throughout the Christian-world. OR, The ROMISH white-devil.  
Qui cum Iesu itis, non  
itis cum jesuitis.  
THe Fatall-Sisters, Latine-Poets call  
parcaes; though, parcunt nulli; they kill all.  
And Latinists, the thick-wood, Lucus, write▪  
Ceu nunquàm lucens; wherein comes no light.  
And by the same Antiphrasis of late,  
The Jesuits to themselves appropriate  
The sacred name of Jesus, though their works  
Declare their lives to be far worse than Turks.  
Heaven's lightness, brightness differs not so great  
From ponderous, drossy Earth: Nor Southern heat  
To Northern chilling, killing frosts so far  
Differ: Nor th'arctic from th'antarctic star  
Is more remote; than this rank of makes-shifts  
(Whose hateful lives, crafts, cozenage, subtle drifts  
To all goodmen apparent) are unlike  
To Christ or Jesus Doctrine, if you strike  
Their name out (only) and their works behold,  
Their best-part (then) will prove but dross to gold.  
Do thorns bear grapes? do figs on thistles grow?  
Or the tall-palm, yield pleasant fruit? o no.  
The tree by's fruit may manifested be;  
On good-trees, good; on ill, bad fruit we see.  
The jesuits-doctrine who to know doth list,  
It doth of 5. dees, 
Five dees.  properly, consist:  
In Daunting subjects; in Dissimulation;  
To Depose, Dispose, Kings, Realms, Devastation.  
Whither the Jesuits come more near to those  
Which bear the arms of Christ or Mars, with blows,  
It is a question▪ but, with ease decided.  
As thus. Christ's soldiers, ever, are provided  
Of these blessed weapons; tears, prayers, patience;  
These foil and spoil their foes with heavenly fence;  
But daggers, dags, keen-swords, poisons, deceit,  
Close-fawning treasons, wiles to cozen and cheat;  
These are the Jesuites-arms, and with these arts,  
Their Pope to deify, they play their parts,  
Nor faith, nor piety their followers have;  
For, devilishly, 'gainst truth, they rage and rave.  
How fit those arms Loiola's-brats beseem,  
Britain can witness, and the wholeworld deem.  
I'll passe-by other-slights, all, in this one,  
In this foul powder-plot, they all are shown.  
Blush, blush (O Jesuits) England knows too well,  
Your counsel furthered, most, this work of Hell.  
Yea, impious Garnet for the traitors prayed,  
Pricked & pusht-forward those he might have stayed,  
Being accessary to this damned intent,  
Which, with one-word this Jesuit might prevent.  
Such barbarous traitors and strange treachery  
To hide and silence is gross villainy: 
Gentem auferte perfidam &c.   
But, o, with orisons God to implore,  
To grant success, o speak, was e'er, before,  
In all the world like wickedness ere known,  
In any age, such monsters seen or shown?  
Which, with religious shows, shelter foule-crimes  
With virtue's cloak hiding them, oft, ofttimes.  
And, then, o then, I tremble to declare,  
Calling the Lord of Heaven with them to share  
In this foul-fact; nor yet heerwith content  
To offer heaven this high disparagement,  
But that they'll act more gross impiety,  
If any can be worse t't'heavens Deity.  
These sacrilegious traitors falsely think,  
No surer bands themselves to tie and link,  
To secrecy and resolution strong,  
Than, thereunto blasphemously to wrong  
Our saviour's glorious body and blood also,  
To their eternal and infernal woe.  
And who so impious, so audacious bold?  
In's wretched hands the Eucharist to hold?  
Who was so godless, who so graceless, trow?  
So rich a pearl unto such swine to throw?  
Who but a Priest of this Society;  
Wouldst know his name? 'twas Gerrard certainly.  
Persuade yourselves, ye holy fathers all,  
This is a truth, which you a lie will call;  
For nought is said against you, but most right;  
Then blush for shame & hide yourselves from sight.  
O heavens! O earth! O treachers times and season!  
Degenerous minds and hard-hearts void of reason!  
Truly 'tis doubtful, difficult to tell,  
Whether of these two mischiefs did excel;  
At one-blow, bloodily, so, to confound  
A King and Queen, three kingdoms, so renowned,  
Nobles and Senate, thus, to strike and destroy,  
By powder them to spoil with great annoy;  
Or that Christ's glorious, sacred body and blood,  
His holy, yea most holy Supper should  
By such damned unbidden guests be 'taminated  
So base a band to be conglutinated,  
And linked, thereby, with such vile vehemence,  
To perpetrate that Stygian foul offence.  
The Pristine Poets used in verse to sing,  
The noble Gests of every Prince and King;  
But, now, 'tis needful, in this weedfull age,  
Wherein impiety and vice do rage,  
Yea and all too-too little to declare  
The hateful times and crimes which most rife are;  
Whose monstrousness to paint to public sight,  
The true relation would pass credit, quite.  
For to these stains, worthy eternal shame,  
Add this, a piece of these sweet father's frame;  
I mean Equivocation, 
Equivocation.  which they use,  
Men's understanding, neatly, to abuse.  
'tis, doubtless, Gyges-ring, for, hereby, they  
Though captivated, can themselves convey;  
And with a trick, which Jesuits use to try,  
They can delude and few can them descry.  
They'll smooth and soothe, and one thing to you say,  
And yet their heart goes clean another way.  
This ambiguity was Apollo's art,  
Under whose name the devil played his part.  
Even Tully may these Priests well reprehend,  
By whom, such lamb-skinned wolus are oft condemned  
Who, if he (now) lived, o how's eloquence  
Would thunder-out Loiola's impudence!  
Satan, that subtle Serpent did them teach,  
This lying-art; they ne'er heard Christ so preach.  
Are not these, then, Rome's white-divels? fie for shame.  
Nought, but bare outsides; their best-part, their name?  
Believe me, for, Christ's sacred-writ most true,  
(If, truth it be, as 'tis.) This truth doth show;  
Their practice smelleth of a fugitive,  
Or devil; or (surely) I am not alive.  
What was the devil? a liar, homicide;  
What's he? a sly-dissembler, regicide  
And with just reason, 
The kings evil.  may this jesuit-devil,  
Most properly be called the king's-evil.  
If, then, affinity of manners vile,  
If just proportion of like fraud and guile,  
If deeds so consonant and disposition,  
To practise' Agreeable, may with permission,  
Avail to prove a truth, then, Magog, know,  
These do a great part of thy warrfare show,  
And palpably declare to th' truly-wise,  
This offspring did from thee, their Father, rise.  
Avaunt you locusts; hence you spawn of hell,  
From whose black-smoke, you are descended well.  
If still you will the name of Jesus take,  
Let all men know you do it only make  
A cloak to hide your knavery; for, you are  
But gray-wolves, bearing in your front a star.  
And since you plead ●ntiquity, with flights,  
We'll justly call you juggling Gibeonites.  
Instead of Jesus, 
Gibeonites.  take you Judas name,  
Your hatefull-lives will best befit the same.  
For by your works we perfectly do find,  
No part, with Christ, is unto you assigned.  
FINIS.   

An enigmatical-riddle to Rome's jesuitical black-Crows, who pretend themselves to be religions white-Swans.  
A Bird of late,  
When birds could prate,  
Said, black's the Crow.  
The Crow replied,  
Told him he lied,  
And 'twas not so.  
Mine eyes, quoth he  
Shall witness be  
That I am fair;  
The Swan so white,  
And Snow most bright,  
foul to me are.  
The bird again,  
Laughing amain,  
Said, strange 'tis not,  
For one's own-eye  
Cannot espy  
The stain or spot,  
Which its-own face  
Doth much disgrace,  
And vilify.  
This matter, straight,  
To arbitrate,  
The Eagle high,  
Their King, they move;  
Who (soon) doth prove  
This folly great.  
A mirror fair  
Bids them prepare  
Both large and neat.  
The Crow it took,  
Therein to look,  
Whereon he gazed  
On's shape most true  
And proper-hew  
Which he so praised.  
Then with great shame  
He much did blame  
His own blear-eyes;  
And all there by,  
Did laugh full high,  
And's pride despise.  
FINIS.   

A paraphrastical Psalm of thanksgiving for England's most happy-deliverance from the most horrible intended gunpowder Treason, practised by the Synagogue of Satan, the Romish Babylonians; and fitted to one of the familiar Tunes of David's psalms, to be sung November the 5th.  
Psalm 124. 

King DAVID against the Philistines.  
King JAMES against the Antichristians.    

IF great JEHOVAH had not stood assistant on our side,  
May England say, most thankfully & been our guard & guide:  
If heavens Almighty Lord himself had not our cause maintained  
When men, yea, most bloodthirsty men our downfall had ordained.   

Then had their Antichristian rage and hellish policy  
Devoured us with greedy-jaws, and swallowed suddenly:  
Then like huge overflowing floods, which proudly swell & roar,  
They all our souls o'erwhelmed had and spoiled in flames and gore.   

Our royal King, the Queen and Prince, and princely Progeny,  
Our prudent Counsellors of State, and prime Nobility:  
Our learned Judges, Prelates all, best Commons of the Land,  
In Parliament by powder fierce had perished out of hand.   

Rome's raging streams with roaring noise and Popish cruelty  
Had all at once engulfed our souls in matchless misery.  
They digged a mine & delved deep, in hope to hurt their brother,  
But they did fall into the pit that they had made for other.   

For, as a bird out of a snare by furious Fowlers made,  
Doth safely scape; even so our souls securely did evade.  
Their net was broke, themselves were caught, our God that ne'er doth sleep  
In heaven did sit & see & smile, & us in safety keep.   

This was the Lord's most worthy work, this was the Lord's own fact  
And 'tis most wondrous to behold this great and glorious act.  
This is the joyful day indeed, which God for us hath wrought,  
Let us be glad and joy therein, in word, in deed, in thought.   

O let us never make an end to magnify God's name,  
To bless the Lord our staff and stay, to sound abroad his fame:  
To tell to all posterity, what wonders God hath wrought,  
To save us from the woes which Rome and Spain against us sought.   

All glory (then) to God on high, let men and Angels sing,  
Let heaven and earth and all therein give glory to heaven's king:  
And sing and say with heart & voice all honour, laud & praise,  
To God who makes us thus rejoice. So be it, Lord, always.   
Omnis gloria solius est Domini.  
FINIS.