A Third CONFERENCE BETWEEN O. Cromwell AND Hugh Peter In Saint James 's Park; Wherein, The horrible Plot is Discovered about the barbarous Murder of our late Sovereign Lord King CHARLES the I. of ever blessed Memory. London, Printed by Tho. Mabb, 1660. A Third Conference, wherein the horrible Plot is discovered about the barbarous Murder of our late Sovereign Lord, King Charles the I. of ever blessed memory. Peter's having very lately received a strict command from O. Cromwell, (in a special Message sent to him by a Succubus, one of the Infernal Pursuivants) attends his pleasure once again in St. Jamse's park; where (after a little respect) Cromwell appears to, and treats him, as followeth. Cromwell, OH Peter! Peter's! What a wretched life did I lead, that I cannot rest from troubleing thee (my dearest Familiar) now I am dead? Whatsoever is the matter amongst you in England, I am very certain, that there never was such a sad and mournful Court, in all the time of his infernal Majesty's Domination and Principality, as now there is with us in Hell? When I came thither first, there was never more triumphing and rejoicing amongst the infernal Orders and Degrees, as then there was; as if all the infernal Dignities and Preeminences under my dreadful Sovereign, depended solely on my presence, and without which they would have sustained an irreparable loss in their Stations! Somewhat there is in the wind more than ordinary; And therefore I prithee discover it to me, that I may not be too much put to my trumps to pump for Intelligence? Pet. Oh Sir, do you want your Intelligence now? It's no marvel indeed! As I told you at our last Conference; If you were here again, it would bereave you of all your Intelligence, and make you stark mad, to see how things go with us now adays: You sent me with your thanks to my Lord General, in the Devil's name: But if you knew all, that's done now, you would say, that you had little cause to thank him. Crom. Why! prithee Peter's, what's the matter? Pet. The matter! and manner, and form too is so, that I know not what to do for my part. There's no way of escaping left, either for you or myself! Crom. For me! Why? I am safe enough, I'll warrant thee! And for the true love I bear thee, I wish that thou wert no worse than I; and then thou shouldest be free from all despair of escaping: But thou mayest be very confident, that thou hast no better refuge, than I myself have found. Pet. Oh, but Sir, you had the luck to die in your bed, and to have a pompous Funeral with all Princelike solemnities (never to be paid for!) Whereas, I am yet alive ('tis true) but how long I shall so continue, I am in very great doubt: However the thoughts of my death, do not so much perplex me, as the manner thereof, as 'tis universally concluded. Crow. Why! what manner of death is it? Pet. Not to be broiled like a Spitch-cock, as Saint Laurence was, nor to be uncased of my skin, as the Archbishop of Spoleto was, but to be tortured and torn in pieces with wild horses, as Ravilliac was. Crom. Why as Ravilliac Peter? Pet. Because (as they say) that I had a principal hand and stroke in the murder (as they call it) of the late King Charles: And you know, that Ravilliac was a King killer, and Murdered Henry the fourth of France; and therefore he was put to death with as much pain and torture, as the quality and notoriety of his fact did merit. Crom. Thou knowest in thy Conscience (Peter) that there was none, that had so great an hand in procuring his death, as thee and I. Did not we beguile the Lord Fairfax, and all the rest of the innocent Officers of his Party, & carried on the work by a Faction of our own without opposition? Who more than we did incite the Members of the High Court of Justice, and Soldiers of the Army to act in that Tragedy? Wert not thou most intimately consulted with by myself, my son Ireton, Tom-Harrison and Henry Martin, for the abridging and shortening the Charge and Impeachment against the King; when as Dorislaus and Cook had prepared a long draught of almost an hundred sheets of paper for a Charge; which was not long since in the custody of John Phelpes, one of the Clerks of that Court, if it be not still in his hands. Bradshaw (thou knowest) would have made a tedious piece of business of it, by drawing into question the death of King James, and the defeat at the Isle of Ree, with other miscarriages in his Government; but thy policy concurred with ours to charge him with Generals; because therein is the greatest latitude of evasion and deceit; and so we resolved only to lay the Cause of the War in England at his door, and make him the Author and Fomentor thereof: and principal Actor therein by a general Charge, upon the reason of this maxim, that Frustra fit per plura, quod fieri potest per pauciora; reserving particulars to our clandestine proof by Witnesses (without any Oath) giving us private Information in the Painted Chamber upon their bare words; And this we did to the end the King should never know it, till it was too late for him; that so we might have the larger field to fight against him, and prevent him from putting us to a formal Trial in Foro Judiciali; And thus we assured ourselves, that he would never own our Jurisdiction, and then we should the sooner dispatch him for his Contumacy out of the world. But art thou in fear to be put to death for that business? Why! take my ghostly Counsel, Peter. Take thee a sufflation of the powder of black Poppey, and other Opiatick Powders up into thy Nose, as Miles Sindercombe did to cousin me and the Hangman, and thou needest not then be afraid of the severing of thy members, but thou shall come entirely to me, soul and body in thy whole skin, without any fracture, dislocation, or extension of any part. Pet. Oh! but sir, 'tis in a great many good men's mouths, that Sindercombe never poisoned himself, nor ever took any Soporifick medicines, whereby to sleep his last, as it was commonly said, that he did so; but that by some secret hand or other, by your complotting with Barkestead (your Creature) that fellow was stifled in his Bed, to prevent his telling of Tales next morning at Tyburn: And so (they say) several of the Coroners Inquest were of opinion, who were Inhabitants within the Liberty of the Tower of London; notwithstanding that your then Lord Chief Justice directed them to find him a Felon of himself, at his house in Lincoln's Inn fields. And we also know, that the Doctors and Chryrurgions were put to a stand and nonplus, and could not tell well, what to make of it upon their Dissection. And Doctor Trig was always of opinion, (to whom Barkestead first of all applied himself at the very midnight) that Sindercomb was poisoned; and then let any man judge, how he came by his end! And shall my lungs, that have been such imcomparable Bellows to blow the Coals in these three Nations, be stifled and suffocated with a Pillow or Bolster? No! I'll warrant you: I shall make a fairer end, than so for all that: But give me leave to tell you (sir) Since the last time we conferred together in this place, the people have been all overjoyed; And on Tuesday night the eight of May instant, they made room for you at Tower hill, by digging up the body of Sindercomb, and removing of it to some other place; not only burning the Landmark, which you caused to be driven through him, (to show your right and title to the ground) but the very Scaffold itself, whereon you caused Sir Henry Slingsby, Dr. Hewet, and many more to be beheaded; under which Sindercomb was laid. Nay, more sir, That very day, the Son of the late King, by the name of CHARLES the II. was proclaimed, with very great solemnity & rejoicing, to be King of England, Scotland, France, & Ireland, both at Westminster, and over all the City of London, by the joint Consent & Concurrence of the Lords and Commons assembled in Parliament, and there never was the like day seen in London. Cromw. What's this! the Son of the late King proclaimed? Why then (Peter) all my Cunning has failed; me; and that's it, that vexeth & disquieteth all our Infernal Court, I'll warrant thee! But the wiseman's sentence is verified, Foelix criminibus nullus erit d●ù: States built in Crimes shall soon be overthrown. True it is, that the lust of ruling caused me to tumour to such a monstrosity, that nothing could gratify my desires, but Rapines and Murders; and yet thou knowest, how closely I pursued the example of Clopius the Roman Tribune, and the Counsel of Machivel, ever to pretend Religion and Providence for a Warrant for my Villainies; besides I never refused the daily suggestions and motives used by thyself to me, for the more plausible and hypocritical conduct of my affairs. Pet. Truly (Sir) I have been always of opinion and judgement, that a man, who will be in practice a skilful Fencer, must not always play at Sharps, or lay on dry blows, but sometimes falsify a little for advantage: And my principal Doctrine is, That an Ounce of Hypocrisy and prous fraud (by tried experience I have found it) will carry a man out in some Passages, better than a pound of downright honesty and good Conscience. Cro. 'tis very true, Peter; that Hypocrisy & Juggling thou speakest of, is that which carried me with so much honour out of the World, into the highest favour of my Infernal Sovereign; and no question, but in due time, and ere it be long, it will send thee of an Errand to me; and then I shall (as of duty) be grateful to thee for thy good services. Oh! how much I am indebted to thee for Pimping so handsomely for me at Liecester; where thou knowest, I deflowered a young Virgin of a rare composure, and only by thy solicitation to her; by whom I had a sinister daughter; which much troubles my Conscience, that I left it no better provided for at my departure. Nay! And what do I not owe thee for thy versutious Compliments to my Lady Lambert, whose beauty and elegance bewitched my affections, as thou well knowest; so that I could not forbear toying and tickling her at my son Ireton's Funeral in , before all the Company! And what did we then privately at the Cockpit, I prithee? Pet. Oh Sir, you made sweet work on't I'll warrant you! I'm sure, you have made J. Lambert beetle browed ever since, and so damnable jealous of his Wife, that he left her in special Charge with the Committee of Safety to keep her Continent, in the time of his running on Frost-biting in the North last Winter, to catch General Monk, when he could come at him. Crom. To catch him! Why, dost thou think that Lambert could ever catch him, when I myself never could do't! Though Lambert has a long time had a jealous head of his own, and not without good causes; yet I tell thee, I was too cunning for him, and so was his wife too; for though he (like a proud ambitious Fool) turned himself out of my favour; yet I never turned her out of mine; for we two, however, kept close together. For what Cause dost think did I make so many Avenues and Recesses up and down at Whitehall and Hampton-Court, but for the better convenience of my Lechery, although it was pretended for the greater security of my Person; Else, why did I make that privy Recluse in the Tiltyard to pass towards Wallingford-house and the Spring-garden? But this, thou knowest, I did to blind my wives eyes, whose Country-Butcher-like face (thou canst tell) did never so affect me, but that I always had my Hand maids to be helpers to me, for the propagation of my Renown; or otherwise I had never been called The Town-Bull of Ely, as I was, before ever the Wars began. Pet. I Sir, you was always a notable Gamester, and good at that Sport; for I have often heard, that you have played your Doublet and Breeches off many times at In and In, rather than stand out. Crom. But that was before my Conversion, Peter! In the days of my wantonness and youthful vanities! When Nan Chambers was my Chamber maid, and Dol Marks had a clap by my brother Walton, (as she made the fool believe) though I was the Father of it. An hundred more such Tricks, I have played in my days; but let them pass: And now let's return to a little more serious discourse. Prithee, What will become of my Wife and Family. Pet. I profess Sir, I cannot tell certainly; but if I may guess by the proportion and Analogy of Lex Talionis, they will not be left worth a Groat: For you know, that you and they did what you could to reduce the late King's Family to the greatest exigences and extremities, that you could possibly imagine, or invent in all the world; and you endeavoured to bring upon them, and all the Nobility and Gentry of the three Nations, all the Indignities and Disgraces, that Milton, and Nedham, with the help of Jack Hall, and the Devil to boot, could design or contrive: And what then can you expect, should be done with them? For can they look for mercy, that never shown any, and acted and executed nothing but injustice, with the greatest Barbarism and Impiety, (as 'tis generally said all the world over.) Crom. But I always suspected Dick and Harry to be Cavaliers. Pet. It's no matter for that! It's enough that they were your Sons: You have left such an ill name behind you, that the very word Cromwell will be as infamous to all Posterity, as the memory of the late King will be blessed, as most men are of opinion. If your sons have any wit left them (as you know they never had much) they'll take my course, and try to get beyond the Seas, if they can. But I think it will be as possible for us, as it was for John Barkestead, (without the help of Gyges his Ring,) to eat the Pies invisibly in Fetter-lane. We are all lamentably put to it. There's nothing but Hue and Cries after us: Let us go where we will, we are very ill beloved, and no body will shelter us. But I have a Plot in my head! If an honest Cavalier will but marry my Daughter, and get me a Pardon from the King, I'll give him money enough, and never meddle with State matters again, so long as I breath. Crom. What? wi●● thou be a Turncoat too? Prithee, hold close to thy former principles, and be honest and come to me! Leave me not now in the lurch for shame? I tell thee, thy presence would much refresh the drooping spirits of all my fellow Courtiers, as well as my own; for now we sit wailing & howling for want of good Company; and thine would be very welcome to us. What shouldst thou dream of a Pardon! 'twill never keep thee from me. All the money and Treasure, that thou hast juggled for, has but made our gates the more open for thee. Our Porter, Cerberus ever nods his three heads at the very mention of thee: He thinks it long till he sees thee, that he might direct and conduct thee to my Lodgings of State in our Tartarian Court; for I have given him special charge to do it upon thy first appearance there. If thou dost not come quickly, Feak will get the Start of thee, and be our confounded Bishop. But we had rather have thee, than any one of them, for thou hast more craft than twenty of them: And therefore delay not thy coming Peter. And for my part, if thou hast not had Invitations and Promises enough to encourage thee, I shall trouble thee no further, nor will I spend time to no purpose. Pet. Sir, I pray be not angry! I always was so much an honourer of your Person, that I cannot keep at a distance from you for my very soul. My obligations are great upon me to be just to you; And therefore I will be honest, and never perplex myself any more with vain hopes of a Pardon or Remission; (For I believe, Acts of Indemnity and Free Pardon will not be so common again for us, as they were in your days) And it's the chief part in a wise man to be well resolved in himself: And therefore Sir, expect me very suddenly, for I will come to you, whosoever stays from you. Crom: Honest Hugh, I thank thee! And before I depart from thee at this moment, Let's Dance for joy a Jig or two, as we were wont to do in this place, in the days of my Protectorship, and sing an Infernal Canto to the Tune of, The three merry Mariners. A Song made and sung by Cromwell, both of them dancing to it. BY Ruin and Blood My Power once stood, Which no body can deny, Boys! To Murder the King, And Misery bring, What Instrument had you, but I, Boys. To live by the Spoil, was my joy and delight; And he that may get a Crown, will he not fight? The Cries of the Poor I valued no more, Than a Wolf does pity his Prey, boy's! It's terror must keep The Britain's like Sheep, Or else you can never 'em sway, Boys. A merciful King for a cipher shall stand, But a rigorous Prince keeps his Sceptre in's hand. Peter's, 'tis incomparable, my Lord! Cromw. Now let me hear thy Phantasy, Peter. Another Song made by Hugh Peter, to the Tune of the Beggars. WHo will be brave Princes, and keep up their Rules, Must bridle their Commons, like Horses and Mules; For if the rude multitude once get a-head, They'll not be reclaimed, or quietly led. It's harder to keep it, though gotten with pleasure, Than first to attain to a Kingdom, or Treasure, Or treasure, or treasure, or treasure, or treasure, Than first to attain to a Kingdom, or Treasure. Crom. Oh brave Peter! let's hear some more of this, Peter. Your Son lost his place, like a Cowardly Fool, Fitter (than be a Prince) to be Groom of a Stool: You left him three kingdoms, which you got by chance, And he let 'em go, like a man in a Trance. But England a Proverb has, and 's true, I tell thou: What's got o'er the Devil's back, 's spent under's belly, His belly, his belly, his belly, his belly, What's got o'er the Devil's back, 's spent under's belly. Cromwell. thou'rt in the right Peter. Now I will sing to thee my last Farewell. To the Tune of, Loath to departed. My Park, Farewell! farewell, my Deer! I must to Hell go, I must to Hell go; Look for me never again to be here From Tartarus down below. Pet. Stay my Lord, And take my valediction too, I pray. Crom. Let's have it quickly, or I cannot stay. Peter's. Tyburn! A dieu, till we do greet: 'twill not be long Sir, 'twill not be long Sir, The Boys will be merry, when thou and I meet, And the Bells shall ring, Ding, Dung, Sir. Cromw. Be sure you make haste after me, Peter. Cromwell departs out of sight. Peter's- Solus. If I was sure to be by th' neck suspended, I would not care how soon I was dispatched To follow him: The work would soon be ended; But here's the Devil! If I once be catched; I shall be tortured worse than on a Rack, And torn in pieces like Ravilliac. Finis, Funis. Funus.