NEWS FROM BRUSSELS, IN A LETTER FROM A NEAR ATTENDANT ON His Majesty's PERSON.  
To a Person of Honour here.  
Which casually became thus public.  
Printed in the Year, 1660.   

A LETTER FROM Brussels.  
Honest Jack,  
THine, by T. L. our true Post-pigeon, and (I would I could not say) only expeditious person, was mine before the morning; and our Masters the same minute, who took no small delight therein: for he read it thrice, and is resolved (and swore to boot) thou art the first shall kneel under his sacred Sword. Sir C. C. has his heart, and at first view he thought of wafting thither, lest he should think his loyalty was slighted: but H. I. and I. advised otherwise, and with some a do diverted that intent, and got him to signify his Royal pleasure in the enclosed; which, instantly dispatch by Minyard way: F. H. has always passage ready. Sir M. M. two hours after brought good news from his cold Country; but Calvin smells too rank for us to venture thither: they first betrayed his Royal Father, and after that his sacred self: nor are our fortunes now at that low ebb, to reimbarque our all in that old-leaky-bottom. Prithee persuade Sam. to be silent, tell him it is our Master's pleasure. Thinkest thou none knows, as well as he who first conjured up this Devil, and cursed them that would not curse and fight against His Majesty in Meroz name: yes, we can look though through our singers: this Rebellion first bubbled up in Presbyterian Pulpits, yet it's impollitick to say so much: we also know 'tis more for fear of the fanatics than for love to us, they now are loyal: so also it is our necessity, not choice, that makes us court them: Hug them you cannot hang, at least until you can: would Lall: had longer lips; I hate to show the teeth before we by't: we choke our Dogs with Crusts as well as Pins, no Cur will eat a Pin alone; a blue Ribbon and a Star we know will unbecome a Rebel's shoulder, but Fishes by't at baits; he is an Ass that angles and hides not his Hook: How most unhappy is my Sovereign Lord, that the impatience of his Friends should be as perilous to his fortunes, as the Pikes of his Enemies: we never yet well minded our next work; he's a Fool that thinks when the Nedle's in the Thread won't follow: set then your helping hand to this, let that alone; procure the cause and 'tis impossible to separate the effect. But he comes in on terms? and is bound up? Tush! remember that blessed line I marked in Machiavil; he's an Oaf that thinks an Oath, or any Tedder can tame a Prince beyond his pleasure: Zerviah's Sons lived to David's great dislike, but 'twas but till he could kill them more conveniently: and prithee what did Shimei's pardon do but planch him up: they can't abide to see his house a Roundheadhive; 'tis true, 'tis much that any can: Are you yet to learn to make Necessity a Virtue? who doubts but that C, Borgia did his business better, by lulling Vitelloz asleep▪ than to have hazarded all by the incertain chance of Fortune; 'tis a Romance to think Revenge can sleep, but like a Dog, to wake at will: 'Tis true, served we a Prince that needed spurs, this humour might be cherished; but alas, we rather use all the Art and Arguments we can to rein him in; hadst thou but seen his passion when M's Pedigree came over, thou wouldst have said he had steel enough— Seal Rob. lips, I pray thee, for fear it may disserve him at dinner; 'twas, and in some degree is, too public. There needs no Record for a Rival; yet is it laid (by strict command) next Murrey's Manuscript, and will one day be reviewed; till than Plantaginet's in pickle. But I'll retain our (most absolutely necessary) discourse, for thy farther satisfaction: canst fancy, that our Master can forget he had a Father, how he lived and died, how he lost both Crown and life, and who the cause thereof? never Monarch yet had a memory half so bad: Ne'er fear, there's fire enough in his Father's Ashes (though yet invisible) to burn up every Adversary; only our clamorous impatience would have all at once: give time, he ascends most safe that does't gradatim; overstraining not only spends the strength too fast, but does endanger falling more: Remember our dread Liege Lord (if ever guilty of an error) miscarried here; from what a hope fell he and we, for want of following S. 's advice: All or none's a Game not for a Prince to play, but Desperadoes, whose fortunes rise and set with every Sun. The Presbyter will give up the Phanatique, a handsome bone to pick at first: I like it better far than all at once; excess brings surfeits: Thus half the beard they shave themselves, let us alone with the other: Drown first the Kitlings, let the Dam that littered them alone a little longer: They glory they are Orthodox; hear, and hold still thy head, let us alone to find out fresh fanatics, and beat them back into King Harry's Codpiece. We know the Sectaries had a Sire, and whose spurious brood they are; even as the Puritan was the off-set of the Protestant: Spain's Attach, revive as oft as well thou canst; 'tis a good blind, and propagates our Master's Interest: Wat came since my last, and will not let our Lord alone, till he sees a Lecture up in Court, and Chaplains preach before him, ordained by the Presbytery: and one Waldense is come already. O Jesus, Jack! I want an iron hoop to keep my sides from splitting, to see my poor Prince hite's lips for half an hour long, while that Dulmano begs a blessing (as he calls it) as our Mech-beggers do their Bacon at the Farmer's doors: G. got behind him yesterday and made mouths, which the Puppy by an unhappy turn of his head perceived; but His Majesty seeing all, prudently anticipated his complaint, and with a Royal gravity, not only rebuked G. but immediately dismissed him his service.  
We all made application to the Parson to mediate to our Master for G. his restoration, which he did: and after much entreaty, his request was graciously granted; but not for G. his sake, but for his, and not on future good behaviour neither: M. H. and I. were in the presence at night, but I thought we should have split our spleens a laughing: but by these means all was healed: and henceforward we are all commanded to be plaguy-godly. H. bid me hand his service to thee, he swears he hath horned 15 Cuckolds within this 14 days.— Mind the Militia most, talk not of disbanding, one pin naturally drives out another. A. B. at parting swore he would see that execrable Exit razed out; whom so assist he may not suffer. Let Th. continue his Caresses, and bid him not jeopard such broad Joques no more; he says she stinks of Piss and Horse-spice: D, F, C, and— court upon all occasions: if M, M, and— stand right, we ask no more, City, Land, and Sea is our own: that Reformation likes us rarely well, though we wonder he would hazard all upon such a rash adventure. Bid Phil. and's Brother both be close; they now may list and none the wiser: we dared not let the Nuntio see the Sun. We hope our friends droop still, and curse him whom most they covet.— Let not thy Lady know our Italian tye: the Devil can't tract us if we 3 keep our tongue within our teeth. Fret not nor afflict thyself nor friend, for we resolve, the Rogues that left the Rump, shall feel the scourge that Loyal hearts lash Rebels with, as well as others; a Roundhead is a Roundhead; black and white Devils all alike to us.— Thinkest thou that we can breathe in peace, while we see a little finger left alive that hath been dipped in Royal blood? or his adherents? No, a thought of mercy more hateful is than Hell: but Cooks may be conquerors, and a plate perform equal execution with a Pistol, and with less report. Be quiet then, let's use all art to make them take the halter tamely. Press the speedy raising of the City Regiments.— And out the Rogue at Stern: what folly is't to think we can safely ferry while the Fleet's Phanatique? This done, let our cause miscarry if it can. Maz. met Wat, and gave him sound advice.— Get Arms, but buy them not in such suspicious numbers: that if all fails, we may repair to them, and cut our passage to the Throne through Traitor's blood. Farewell.  
Brussels, S. V. March 10. 1659.  
FINIS,