THE LIFE AND DEATH OF JOHN ATHERTON LORD BISHOP Of WATERFORD AND LYSMORE within the kingdom of Jreland, born near Bridgwater in Somersetshire. Who for Incest, Buggery, and many other enormous crimes, after having lived a vicious life, dyed a shameful death, and was on the fifth of December last past, hanged on the Gallows green at Dublin, and his man John child being his Proctor, with whom he had committed the buggery, was hanged in March following at Bandon Bridges, condemned thereunto at the assizes holden at cork. fleur-de-lys London Printed, 1641. THE SHAMEFVLL end, Of Bishop Atherton, and his Proctor John child woodcut of two hung men, one a closeup COnfusion give my thoughts once leave to be Exempted from thy lawless Tyranny▪ If for the space of but one poor hal●e hour, O give me leave to sit in quiets Bower, That I with patience may delineate, In lines of life this Prelates sordid state, Who first in England did his life receive, His education Oxford did him give, Thence to a bnfice preferred he was, In which he viciously his time did pass, And although married to a handsome wife, blessed with sweet children th'only joy of life, Yet so far baseness did in him prevail, That unto Lust he himself set to sail; deflowered Virgins, Marriage beds defiled, With many other vicious crimes too vilde To be conceivd, beyond all measure proud, Impudence and ambition did him shrowded. Amongst his flock he sowed seditious strife, Set friend 'gainst friend, husband against wife. So that 'mongst many he did live alone, And loving none, beloved was of none. Lastly through pride, high fare, and lustful life, Incest committed with the Sister of his wife, For which he sued his pardon, and then fled To Ireland, where a worse life he lead, There through insinuation did obtain, The Parsonage of S. John, became chaplain unto that honoured Lord and worthy peer, Lord Chancellor there, Lord Viscount Loftus here, By whose assistance he did eke require, To be Sub-deane of Christ-church, one step higher, Whose goodness for to guerdon he did prove, A Iudas, and betrayed him for his love, Brought him into disgrace with that great Sir, Who brookt no rival nor Competitor, Straffords stern earl, a man of eminent hight, Knowledge, and wit, had it been governed right. Courage and resolution to those high employments he had given him, but why Should he his merits banish and so die, Imping his wings with false felicity? Winning on him, by him he was preferred unto the bishopric of Waterford, And of Lysmore, where he did five yeares Lord it In such sort, as all good men much abhorred it. But in the Interim mark what did befall, If so he had had any grace at all, At which he aimd, but not the grace of God, But at such Grace as had our graceless Laud He surely warned was to mend his life, By his own Sister Master Le●kies wife, Which master Leakies Mother being dead, And in her life-time conscious how he lead His lustful life, her Ghoast in gastfull wise Did oft appear before her Sisters ●yess, But she feare-strucken durst not speak unto it, Till oft appearing forced her to do it: Then thus she spake, Mother in Law what cause You from your rest, to my unrest thus draws? Who answered, daughter tis the wicked life Your Brother leads, warn him to mend his life; If not, then plainly tell him tis decreed, He shall be hanged, bid him repent with speed: Then shall my restless spirit be at rest, And not till then; Thus vanished▪ she addressed herself for travail, Into Ireland went With this sad mess●ge unto him was sent: Which how he took to heart may plain appear By the slight answer he returned her. What must be, shalbe: If I must, I must die, marriage, and hanging, come by destiny. Thus scoffed her counsel, sent her back, and when Sh●e was returned, he grew far viler then He was before, if Viler man may be, For one bad Act before, committed three. Here Lord like Prelates, two things I propound, Or leave your Seas, or in them your 'vice drowned. If ye will Bishops be, be such as was That Godly Timothy, make him your glass, Shun avarice, shun extortion, shun vain pride, Shun hate, dissimulation, let your Guide Be godliness. Shun Lust, Shun Buggary, Shun Incest, Rape, and shun Adultery. Be practisers of every honest thing, Be meek like Christ your Bishop Lord and King, So may you live beloved, and die to life, Not by the Axe or by the hangmans knife, A halter as this Bishop here hath done, When being hanged yourselves do scarce bemoan: And Proctors be ye warnd by John Childs fall, Least that his fate betid unto you all. Lust, Avarice, Extortion of Fees caused him at London bridge his life to lose. Y' are alike guilty: let not the same thing Draw you like him to Heaven in a string. Now to the Bishop we return again, With whose loathed Crimes I loathe to fowle my pen, A strict list being taken of each whore He was known to use, amounts to sixty four. Nor was it out of frailty he did sin In this vile sort, That might excused have been. For when that nature failed all these to please, To provoke Lust he used Cantharides, Nor did this Bravo as some Lechers use When they have acted sin, seek to excuse The same by mincing or a flat denial, He scorned such baseness, let him make a trial Of any neighbours wife, as oft he did, He would not have his dealing to be hide. He'd rather justify the act for good, As thus, twas done, to purify the blood. Or if a barren womb he chanced to prove, Twas cause he did not the ston colic love. Some women he did do in charity And some because they used good Cookery, Knew how to please his palate as his bed, So that at once his Corpes and Lust he fed. Thus many salves he had for many sores, But still the cure was wrought by the art of his whores. If not, t'advance his Lust this lustful elf Had tricks enough whereby to help himself. A man well known in Waterford had need To borrow A hundred pounds, in hope to speed unto this Reverend Lord he did address himself, and his suit, which thus he did express: My Lord I oft have tasted of your favour And promises to do me good, which rather Induceth me unto this bold request. Your Lordship willbe pleased to make me blessed With the loan of 100. pound which Ile repay Within a month or else on any day Your Lordship shall appoint. This courteous Lord answered, Sir you shall have it on your word And more to do you good, but let your wife Be present, least there should be any strife, If you should fail for to repay the same, Or I for breach of payment should make claim. He grants, and goes, shee comes, the money's ready, So is my Lord, And the poor Cuckold's needy. Sir saith my Lord, though't be an entire sum, It is odd money that to me is come. Amongst it all ther's but one piece of gold, That with the rest not easy to be told, go draw it out within my study door, Ile trust you there, but will not many more. But cause your credits cracked, i'le keep the Key, The door being locked, mean while your wife shal stay And talk with me: tis granted, in his seat The Bishop mounts, and does the well known feat. Another when his Lordships watch digrest, As he himself did always, to a feast He invites himself: which ended, he requests The Goodman of the house( there being no Guests! To spoil his sport) That he would set his watch At his sun dial, at which he doth catch, Proud of such favour, goes without denial, mean while another's set by his wives noon dial. These are but tricks of youth, now arm your ears With patience, for to hear of pallid fears: Suppose a devil from th'infernal Pit, More Monsterlike, then ere was devil yet, Contrary to course, taking a male fiend To Sodomize with him, such was the mind Of this Lord Bishop, he did take a child By name, not yeares, acting a sin so vilde, As is forenam'd; this child a Proctor too, Nor him alone, but his Parrator he must do; These and a Thousand like these he hath done, Besides endeavouring to eclipse the sun Of this our sky, by making Charles wain draw Sublunary, by subverting the Law fundamental, and putting in the place, Commission high, Popes Canons, Great Lauds Grace. For the subverting of such devilish plots, From staining of our kingdom with such blots, For th'happy reign of our most Sacred King, And those that from that royal stock do spring, For Parliament, and health of Martiall men, All loyal Subjects cry with me, Amen. FJNJS.