THE HUE and CRY After those RAMBLING PROTONOTARIES Of the TIMES. Mercurius Elenticus. Mercurius Britanicus. Mercurius Melancholicus. and Mercurius Aulicus. Tu Captas alios, jàm sumus ergò pares. Mart: Epig. Published by Authority. VERITAS VIRESSIT WLNERE printer's or publisher's device London, Printed by B. Alsop, MDCLI. THE HVE and CRY After Those rambling Protonotaries of the times MERCVRIVS, ELENTICVS, BRITANICVS, MELANCHOLLICVS, and AVLICVS. HUsh! what Morphean spell hath lulled asleep These blustering souls? Or do they sadly creep, charmed with a Gyges ring discerned by none But th' Complices of their own faction? Why how now Gallants? is it possible Such rantum tantum Heroes of the quill, Which awed our ripest actions, should be Thus silently damp't in obscurity? And that brave flash, Quis me impu●è lacescit Shrunk to a poor contemptible Quiescit? Most horrid Change! the grand monopoly Of reprehension routed? forced to fly To gloomy shades locked from the vulgar Air, Which durst confront the Senate, and the Chair? What heretic could have maintained that these Should less then be the latest Arteries moved in the royal Cause? nay when black fate Had sunk their Armies through intestine hate, Stand on the ruins to survive the fall, And raise new from their dust and funeral? But O they are unkennell'd, shab'd, and gone: Else their gigantic riff raff, would have flown, winged with a rampant bastinado style In skulls about the City. O what guile Hath countermined this Crotchet? which so long Masqu'd like a subtle whiffler in a throng? Seven tedious winters have they served in rhyme And obtrectation to reprove the Time. But now unhappy boyes slunk all away Sans their Indentures at the parting day. But I'll pursue their footsteps which perchance May help as much as a recognisance. Ho! Countryman! didst meet a scared crew Of Shabbaliseoes? a partiperpal'd blew mess of Intelligence? with hare-goose eyes Staring like Thieves scaped from a grand Assize? Whom in thy sweet mistake thou once didst call The volk that benn'd the weekly urinal? sweeting like buttered Moons stewed in their grease? Blenching each bush like a Justice of Peace, sergeant, or Constable? prest to apprehended Their bodies, as their wits? and to suspend Their news and selves a while? prithee canst tell Me any hint? revolve th' emergent smell Foreran that Caravan of soil came after, To charge thy nose with stench, thy breast with laughter. Their rich embroidered breeches rent and tore With copious slits to vent their golden Ore: Which in abundance issued down their thighs In plenteous veins through th' heat of jealousies. For Falconbridge the Beadle( as they say) appeared to them in vision th' other day. Ho Aulicus! if one could possibly retrieve thy lamentable Phisnomie, What sad conclusions might I gather thence? How like a smoky Herring in suspense Thy parboil'd Rabbet-ship now sneaks about Peaking as if thy Genius were thrown out To pen the seared worlds Epitaph. At best, Thy meager presence was a Lenten jest. A mere Anatomy of bones, a trick Put upon nature, a Coarse called quick. What ghostly Metempseuchosis must then Thy fears refine thee to? Attome of men! Perhaps thy thinner extract may be such To sacrify beyond our sight or touch. A pretty sharp evasion to get free From the after-game of thy fraternity. Those Counter-currs: which when men most shall NEED 'em Will bark on any side to shark their freedom. To thine eternal credit be it told, Thou art the onely man dares say and hold. These shuffling shakebags, which can box their coats, And tune their mercenary hones and throats To any pitch or humour, let them be kicked for a flexible neutrality. Love Treason, hate the traitor. They that take Up arms, nay even rebel for conscience sake, And stick to their first principle's intent, Though the cause ill are semi-innocent. But lukewarm doublers let them denied Th' enjoyment of the curse of the worst side. And hang them up 'twixt heaven and earth, t' express They have arrived once at a settledness. Else may some dextrous doctor of the Post Scourge with a dog-whip this Mercurian roast Of Sckipping Batretters, 'tis granted good To purge those supper Crescencies of blood Which frolic in the veins of malcontents, And breeds a grief called Evil instruments, Yet my Bridewellian Champion, stay thy hand, And be advised a little in this grand Industrious Expedition. Some there be Claim just excuse for their simplicity, The vulgar flesh-Flies; which depend alone Upon event and apparition: These pass for numbers sake, they'll cloy thee quiter, And thy arithmetic. But swinge the right. To Pauls Church-yard direct thy rambling whip, There Melancholicus lols, biting's lip, Storming to see his Fobs such Cowards grow, And cannot one poor ounce of mettal show: His clouded features mingled all together, Look like an endless Series of ill weather. Confine him till th' hast found Britanicus, That snivelling Retrograde at th' holy Buss, With some sweet Ruth behind a Kitchin-door, Or wheel-barrow fashion riggling of a W— Give his salacious Appetite a touch, To mitigate his itch not overmuch. Then down the Strand, observe the signs I tell you, A strange Rhinoceros with a shotten belly And trapstick legs( who will not judge him stout That on such props dares venture such a Lout?) Will soon occur; which formerly 'tis said Berayd Elenticus now butted In a new term Politicus, a word May henceforth stand for a recanting T— baste his back gammons, that his Patrons dripping May work out at his sides like leaks from shipping. Lash him through all his names, let no disguise Be thick enough to gloze his forgeries. A satire which can blow both hot and could, Out of one mouth, slain vertu's self for gold. Mince his gambadoes well in every shape, And let him know an Ape is still an Ape Though clad with Lions skins, and when his gore Has run enough to stew the two before, Let them partake alike thine instrument, Till thou perceivest apostasy quiter spent. Then least their physic purge them to their graves, dismiss them for a leash of juggling Knaves. FINIS.