The Life and Death of Mris RUMP. And the Fatal end of her Base-born brat of destruction, with her own first hatching And bringing forth from the devil's Arse a Peake, it being the only place, from whence this illegitimate Bastard or Monster had its Nativity. The Names of the chief Actors, in this Tragical Scene. Devil's Arse. Mris. Rump. Mulciber blacksmith of Hell Vortiger. Etheldrid, Edricus. Cain. Oliv. Cromwell Reynolds, Pride. Enter the devil's Arse and Mris Rump. Devil's Arse. HA, ha, ha, Hoop, what comes here, a Brat of my own bringing forth? Mris Rump. Zounds thou liest, I am no Monster like thee, I scorn to lose the least title of my usurped Honour. Am not I the powerful mighty and invincible stamp of Tyranny, to whose shadow all must and shall bow, or else expect the terror of my thundering Ordinances, Votes, and Declarations, how darest thou to question my impregnable Force to whose Command Armies were subject. Devil's Arse. What force hast thou? Wilt thou deny me, thy own Mother from whence thou hadst thy first Birth, breath, life and being was not I the first Arse, or stump from whence all misery befell man, did not I seduce the Woman to the destruction of all men? and am thy own creator? Rump. No my name is beyond thy stinking Pedigree, is not Rump an Honourable name. Devil Arse. And is not my name the very same, but one of better nature. He spits at her. Mrs. Rump. What! dost thou spit at me? Devils Arise. Would it were mortal poison for thy sake. Mrs. Rump. Oh cursed Varlet, the very scent of thy stinking Salliport would infect a Toad. Devil's Arse. Out of my sight, thy very breath infects my eyes. Mrs. Rump. Some dismal Fiend confound the substance of thy Hellish shape. Devils' Arse. Art thou like bloody Nero to murder me thy own mother? who didst thou learn this cruelty of. Mrs. Rump. None but thyself? Devil's Arse. It is true I caused Cain to murder a fourth part of the whole would, ay his own Brother. Mrs. Rump. And with these bloody paws I murdered my own King; And world do my Gen. Monck too, were I in place again. Devil's Arse. Out Devil murder thy King? Mrs. Rum. I and would murder thee too, wert thou a King. Devil's Arse. I had rather be a Pedlar, far be the thought of it from me; but where is thy Conscience? Mrs. Rump. In the Exchequer, had it not been so, I had never imbrued my hands in blood for cursed gold. But is there no more murderers but I? Devil's Arse. Here comes many more of your Comrades: Enter Vortiger, Etheldrid, Edricus, O. Cromwell, Reynolds & Pride. Vortiger. I murdered my sovereign Lord and King Constance, and many more besides. Etheldred, I murdered mine own Brother Edward to possess his Crown, and subtly caused all the Danes in one general banquet to be slain, Edricus. And I murdered my King Edmond Iron-sides. O. Crom. Did not I go before you all? I can scarce number the Catalogue of my murders plots and treacheries; I murdered Hewet, Love, Slingsby, and many more, besides I caused Sindercomb to be poisoned, and to clear my pretended innocency laid it on himself. And I gave tithes to the Priests to make all amends. I always stool a Goose and stuck down a Feather. Nay rather than leave my old Trade of Murder, I hanged many of my owe soldiers, as I did a Drummer in Ireland, for taking a Mutton from the enemy, and two at Edinburgh in Scotland. Reynolds. And I( through thy persuasion after I had swore fealty) murdered Thompson and many of the Burfordians. Pride. And I because the blood of men could not satisfy me murdered the harmless Bears on the Bankside. Mris Rump. And I think thou art well requited? Pride. Indeed I find so for I did not only murder the Bears, but pinch the poor of measure while on earth, but have it large enough in Hell. Mris. Rump. I and good reason too, you have your firing free Noble Colonel. Pride. Ay but though firing be cheap, water is dear, there's never a Tankard-bearer in Hell; therefore I have little hope of help. Cain. What pratling's here? Did not I teach you all to murder? Enter Mulciber. I brought all these to my Forge, and I think they have acted their parts. Exit omnes. Mrs. Rump. And what have you all done that I have not been forward in, I have destroyed all Laws, Break Oaths, Covenants, committed, sacrilege, murders, Plunderings, and would have done more, had not I been prevented, by a company of Secluded Malignants of my own creating. And shall not I be received to sit in Council among you. Devil's Arse. Ay But first setting by all Ceremonies, Mrs. Rump, is not my name more Ancient, and I more Honourable, art not thou a brat of my own Hatching? Mrs. Rump. No, I come of noble blood; which I have gained by noble murder, the Scarlet die of which lies still in my stained Conscience; But yet not thy Brat. Devil's Arse. Grim fiend thou liest for the very substance of thy deformed shape, was framed in Hell, by Mulciber Blacksmith, who anvelled thee out of my horrid, Black, and putrified, Excrements. Mr. Rum. I charge thee be gone, If not I shall force thee to an Oath of Abjuration, and if that be performed thou Mayst by thy perjury become one of my Counsel. Devils arsr. What dost thou intend to swallow up my blood as thou didst the blood of thy sovereign Lord and King? Mrs. Rump. I do so, my delights in nothing more than Martyrings Kings, and to have my hands smoking in the blood of Princes; Oh the Son of him, who was the sacrifice of my youth! his escape is the chiefest of my torment, who now is like to be advanced to my destruction. Devil's Arse. Thou damn Hedgehock, what repent now its too late for that. Thou Mayst now travel with thy late born Babe of Reformation at thy back in a blanket like an old Irish Bennoot: but whose there Mulciber. Enter Mulciber. I come, I come, I come, What's here to be done, a piece of my own work, I'll finish it? come away thou lousy Rump, now will I have thee to my Anvel; and beat thee into a better form that thou Mayst seem some what. Mrs. Rump. Oh good Sir, where shall I go? Mulcib. To Hell the fittest place for thee, Earth is not to be pestered up with such, cumbersome bundles of baseness, I shall anvil the into some better form quickly. Mrs. Rump: Will no dungeon serve turn, but that ugly loathsome and miserable place of torment? Devil's Arse. No place but one? Mrs. Rump. What place dost thou mean. Dev. Arse. I mean that stinking poisonous place called the isle of Jaqueses, where the black horrid excrements of all sinners may Float upon thy loathsome Soul, and smother thy loathsome Brat of cursed, Usurping and Tyrrannical Reformation to Eternity, as a Revenge on thee for thy cruelty committed on thy Right and Lawful sovereign Lord the King. Whilst thus he made an end of speaking Mrs. Rump( much tortured in conscience) with her ugly Deformed, Monstrous, and horrid Brat without a head, who had feet like a Bear, and bag at the Belly full of false oaths, Papers, and Engagements, being more Ar— then Body, with a ghastly countenance gave a terrible screek, and departed the world in a flash of Lightning, and being converted to a stinking vapour vanished away, and was no more heard of since, whereby her Funeral could not be solemnised. EPILOGUE. YOu that have seen this stinking Lump of Earth, Conceal her Name, since her prodigious Birth Is not worth minding, for her fatal fall Was great, I, and her virtues none at all; she's not worth eating boiled or roast at Supper, Who had her Birth and Name from Pluto's Crupper. Of's very Excrements, you all may tell By Mulciber her corpse was forged in Hell. Let all Spectators now together jump Upon this noisome, beastly, stinking Rump, And say, here lies interred a clod of Clay, Who killed her King, her God and Soul away, She sold, and that for Nasty Pelf, But now Old Bawd she is defunct herself. Since she is dead and gone good People all Lament in Sack at this her funeral. Cursed be the devil's are— from whence did Spring This hellish Rump, to Murder Charles Our King: Yet by his Son we shall true Peace enjoy Singing with Eccoes' loud Vive Le Roy. LONDON, Printed for Theodorus Microcosmus. 1660.