A WINDING-SHEET For the Rebels at Westminster.  
A Grave as deep as Hell, for FAIRFAX and his Army.  
With a Whip and a Bell, for the Satanical hirelings of the Synod.  
By W. R.  

To the Junto, whom some call Parliament.  
Thus the Fates, do hold it meet,  
I should Wove your Winding-Sheet:  
Arachne, could not better do,  
'Gainst Pallas, then I'll act'gainst you.   

To the Sectaries, or the Army.  
Blood and Fury, Death, and Hell,  
All mischiefs, you out-paralell:  
(You Saints) yet act the worst of Evils,  
You are not Men, but crimson Devils.   

To the Factious Ministry, who some call a Synod.  
Sell us Religion, we will pay,  
To each four Shillings every day:  
Geneva Goblins, who to please,  
Your lusts, have stolen St. Peter's Keys:  
Who Preached down Bishops, and their Rents,  
That you might be non-resident:  
Thus I whip You in my ire,  
More due than Your four shillings hires.   
June 27 Printed in the Year. 1648.   

A WINDING SHEET, etc.  
WIth your leave, and without your leave Gentlemen of the Houses, though I hold it besenesse to insult over dying Rebels, (for so you are now in my esteem) yet I dare affirm it but excellent justice, to make you sensible of your villainies, ere you visit the Worms.  
And let you know, the utmost of your fate,  
Since now Rebellion is grown out of date.  
Most high and mighty States, most blessed Reformers, most zealous Saints, most renowned Heroes, most sanctified Patriots, and most religious Rebels; alas how comes it about, that of late you are fallen into such contempt, and are disregarded by your boared Vassals, the Cowardly besotted English Nation; what is the reason that your Almighty Power, hath so soon left you, and is looked upon as invalid; how comes it to pass that your Votes, Orders, and Declarations, are no other than the sport of fools, and the mockery of Men, who could have Prognosticated, set Wharton aside, that you should so soon tumble from the top of your greatness; I had thought that no humane strength could have forced you from your thrones, but it ought to be no wonder to wise men, for— 
Had they ere read, in any History,  
That Rebels who combined 'gainst Majesty,  
Were their ends good, their Prince vicious and Ill;  
Had he enslaved the People to his will;  
Were all good Laws perverted, were his mind  
To lust, ambition, Sacrilege inclined,  
And that to remedy, their harsh annoy  
Then threatening their whole Nation to destroy.  
Some private men took arms against their King  
Out of intent, their lost Laws back to bring.  
Had they ere thrived in their Rebellious Vow,  
Even from the first Creation, until now;  
Some might have hoped these Rebels ne'er should fall,  
Till they had caused a Ruin general.   
Most gracious most famous, and most wicked States, what would you give now that you had never run yourselves so fare into your Rebellious labyrinth; you say you fought at first for to purchase a Reformation, I say you fight now for your heads, see how the sceano is changed, we know that when you first Convened, you drew your Swords against your lawful Prince, with an intent to pull down the Bishops, and fathers of the Church, the masters of Order and Discipline, to the end you might introduce your novel and Soul killing Independency, by the advancing of the factious mercenary Clergy in their room, Creatures so flexible, that you might put any stamp you pleased upon them, such are your hirelings of the Synod, and in particular, Marshal, Vines, Nie; del, Peter, Strong, Gouge and the rest of the Apostated Levites, we know that you wrested the King's Sword out of his hand, & made yourselves heirs to the Militia, that you might put your bits and bridles in the mouths of the People, and then ride at your pleasures; we know that you Declared against Monopolies, and Ship-money, with an intent in stead of them to set up your never dying Excize, your Contributions, and free quarter; we know that you complied with the Scots, only for your own private advantage, and took their Covenant, only for a cloak, that so you might grow great by their aid and fool that Nation into a good opinion of you, we know that you are seemingly zealous, but really wicked outwardly Stoics, but inwardly Epicures; we know that you have this seven years, solemnly given thanks for blood, and cordially fasted for strife and debate, and to conclude, we well know that you voted no further addresses to his Majesty, in hope that now you had brought to pass your projections, and that you might proceed to confirm your Anarchy, and to make yourselves a free and absolute State, commanding the Persons and purses of the people at your pleasures, and for ever to enslave and vassalize us and our Posterity, and we know that you gulled his Majesty in the I'll of Wight, with an intent, to secure his Person from the eyes of the People, and there to murder him at your pleasures.  
And because we know this, and to sum up the sense of all, that you are the most wretched, bloody, barbarous, incorrigible—, that ever met together, therefore, it is that we now have a firm intention, to disengage you, and in lieu of your worthy acts fairly to cut your threats, and to cease on your estates the incomes whereof we will employ thus:  
Your lands which you have forfeited to his Majesty for your Rebellion, shall be divided amongst those widows, whose husbands you have shot to death, and hanged for their Loyalty to their King, and to the heirs for ever of Tomkins, chaloner, Burleigh, and the rest, your goods, and moveables, we will distribute amongst the people, who have this many years, been rob, and plundered by you, and your Agents, and this assure yourselves, we will not fail to do and that suddenly, if the ten thousand gallant Soldiers now under Sir Marmaduke Langdale; thirty thousand Scots, seven thousand under the conduct of the Earl of Norwich, & Sir Charles Lucas, twenty thousand in London, (who wait but an opportunity) and ten thousand of French, and English, now with the Prince of Wales can do it; therefore make up your accounts with heaven speedily, for both the stars and men have designed your deaths, and the more to assure you, that I speak truth, as also (that if it be possible) you may be penitent, I send you this,— 

WINDING SHEET.  
Traitors, you that have undone,  
All order, and Religion:  
You that have sold, your God for gain,  
And have abused your Sovereign:  
Wrap you in this fatal ,  
No flowers or coffin is allowed:  
This sheet is woven of stern ire,  
Such as maintains the unscen fire:  
Next of vengeance, black and fell,  
Such as threw Lucifer to hell:  
Next of the rage of God and man,  
Such as are threw the Puritan:  
Then of the cries, and woeful tears  
Of widows, orphans young of years,  
Whose fathers grim death ceased upon,  
While they opposed Rebellion:  
'Tis painted with vermilion fraud,  
The blood of Strafford, and of Laud:  
His Majesty, hath tied the knot,  
Of this, wherein your names must rot:  
Quickly therefore put it on,  
And sail to your perdition.    
So farewell old Parliament, now I come to you Sir Thomas Fairfax, o my Lord Fairfax, I should have said, or rather King Tom, the Arch-traitor of England, and the Rakeshames under your command, whom you lead about to murder, and rob the people.  
Vile villain, whose name shall be an hissing to Posterity, had it not been better for thee to have made use of the opportunity, which heaven once put into thy hands, and have brought the King from Holdenby to London rather than have followed the lustre of Cromwel's nose, and cheat him into the Isle of Wight, didst thou not protest at New-market and St. Albans, that thou wouldst use all means, for the King's restauration, and that thou refusedst to disband thine Army on such pious grounds, hadst not thou and Nol private conference with his Majesty, and did you not pawn your Souls, that nothing should be acted which should be thought prejudicial to his Interest, and yet afterward when you were reconciled to the Rebels, who call themselves a Parliament, did not act against him, it seems the Almighty would not permit you to wipe off your Stain: but that as you had wickedly begun so you should traitorously persist, to the end a hatchet may cure the one of the gout, and an halter send the other to hell.  
And for you of the Army who term yourselves Saints, who are a mixed multitude, a people of all Professions, and of more religions, to whom War is become a trade, and who never mention Peace when you give thanks for your plundered diet, we know you are the Scum of your Nation, you have fought seven years to dethrone your King, & now you are in Arms to enslave your selus and your nation, your cruelties and bloody practices exceed, all that ever wild fancy hath yet feigned, while like unnatural Sons, you feed even upon the entrails of your mother, the Commonwealth of England, do you know what you fight for, I am confident if you did you would not have been so stupid, as still to go on in your unheard of outrages, I will tell you; you fight for to support their greatness who are the most perfect atheists, that ever were on earth, who have ruinated and brought to nothing, the most illustrious and flourishing Church, that ever was since the primitive times, who have no more conscience, than Cannibals, and no more piety than Patricides, Religion is to them a mere Chimaera, and they hate purity, as much as uniformity, you fight for those who insatiately thirst for Christian blood, and who make it their chief delight to murder and kill those that are Innocent & Loyal, you fight for those who implacably hate their dread Sovereign Lord King Charles the Lords anointed, set over them, by God● command, and immediate appointment, who is the most virtuous, moderate, wise, just, and incomparable Prince, that ever was, whose life they use all means to take away, and would esteem it their chief happiness to wash their hands in the blood of him and his posterity, you fight for them who are guilty of the blood of an hundred thousand Souls, who lost their lives for the maintenance of their monstrous Rebellion, you fight for those who would fain make themselves a Free and absolute State, and that done, to pray on all men without distinction, to doom whom they will for vassals and whom they will to death, and that they may maintain their own luxurious riot, and riot amongst their concubines, will at their pleasures command your money and goods, yea, even to a penny, and to conclude you fight for those, who when they have accomplished their ends, (as I hope they shall never do) by your arm, will turn you off, and not own you, take an occasion to quarrel with you, and turn you to grass without a penny of your arrears, or so much as thanks, but I perceive that should I use the most moving Oratory, that it were possible to invent, or should I give you never so many solid arguments, and unanswerably prove my assertions, it were to as much purpose as if I should talk to mine own shadow, you are tied to your destiny, in inseparable cords, and indeed it is but justice, that you and they should fall together, in a sure confidence whereof thus do I dig your grave, large enough here, doubt it not to include an Army of such as you are, the extent whereof is as wide as hell: 
Come, Treason, murder, Regecide,  
And let Sedition be their guide:  
Come, lust, Pride, and ambition,  
Schism, and Irreligion,  
Dig deep even as low as Hell,  
Though you fright Pluto from his Cell,  
'Tis done, now Glemham, Lucas, and  
Langdale now in Westmoreland,  
Norwich, Lunsford, Capell, Poyer,  
Roborough, Laughorn, powel, Dier,  
Thrust the Rogues into the pit,  
The Kingdom sees, and likes of it.   
But now to the linsey woolsey Synod, that compound of the jerkin and the gown, who preach blasphemy, print heresy, and talk Treason, and yet have not had the power to do it, though their Directory, taught the people to pray backwards, and their Catechisms, cozened them of their old creed, was there ever such a conclave of ridiculous Rabbis as these are, since the time that Pope jone was elected, who are so far from being a Synod, of able and orthodox Divines, duly & lawfully called, by the Bishops, & Governors of the Church, that they are a thin conventicle of factious mercenaries, whose trade it is, to soothe up the Rebels in their impious undertake, and to prove all paradoxes out of holy writ for 4 a day, a company of owls, who hoot nothing but Sedition and Barbarism, who honour Melvils precepts, above the law of Moses, and prefer Calvin before Austin; desist, desist ye Apostated Shavelings, in the mean time give me leave, or I will take it to shake over you, this, 

WHIP and BELL:  
Grave Rabbis, let's have t'other story,  
Some new found nonsense Directory:  
You'll say the t'other is enough,  
'Tis truth; unless 'twere better stuff,  
Alas we know not how to pray,  
By your long tailed, etc.  
Lawn sleeves, will make you vomit, we  
Have— out, your Presbytery,  
Degenerate, who lie at lurch,  
For to o'erthrow our famous Church.  
Behold the Prelates must again,  
Sat next unto their Sovereign:  
Do not you hear the Organs play,  
See you not tapers burn by day,  
All Ceremonies pure and holy,  
Restored: you laughed at for your folly.     
FINIS.