THE WELSH HUBUB, Or the Unkennelling and Earthing of HUGH PETER That Crafty Fox.  
HEr will speak truth, her scorns to tell you tales,  
Was gallant things, called prophecies in Wales  
Truer than Mandivill, which do assure us  
Arthurus quandom Rex, & Rex futurus:  
Law there; nay more, our Merlin farther goes  
Descending to our times, and points at those,  
Who shall disturb our peace, and raise strange wars  
Amongst ourselves, with horrid civil Jars,  
Murder with rapine, and saith that Sais Kee  
Shall plundra Kefill glace, and Kefill Dee,  
From honest Taffy; that the Mole or want  
Shall undermine us, and our Rights supplant:  
This Mole Expositors with one consent  
Do call the long-tailed ramping-Parliament:  
That this is come to pass none can deny  
Though Cutterell mawr, himself were standing by;  
An other in his learned rhymes doth say,  
The Lion's whelp is forced to fly away,  
And that the 7th of Ireland he shall be  
Again restored unto his Royalty,  
Hall, Ned, Mall, Bess, James, and two Charles, I wiss  
Make just up seven; our Merlin doth not miss  
And that in express terms a Monk shall bring  
And reinvest great Charles our sacred King:  
And look you here now, is not this all true  
Her will speak one word more and so adieu  
When all this is full-fiild, then draweth on  
The time we call naw mish Capisteron;  
And what's that Hugh? I'll tell the 'tis a time  
When such as thou shall up a ladder clime,  
Not unto Peter, Porter at heaven gate,  
But there to fetch a swing or two, thy fate  
Will have it so, and if it be thy chance  
Amongst the traitors for to lead the dance,  
Thou shalt not turn alone, there will be more  
To follow the upon the self same score,  
To traverse ground, to change to turn and fling  
and cut strong Capers in a hempen string;  
I need not name them, Hugh, thou know'st 'em well,  
They'll make a lusty Cushing dance to hell:  
But yet me thinks, it is not very fit  
That men alone without some female chit  
Should make a Ball, send for thy deer Nan Hedge,  
For whom in former time thou wast a pledge;  
Though M●rss the Gaoler brought her back again  
To wood-street Counter, and there lod'g the  
If one will not suffice, then send for more  
The world well knows Hugh Peter's loves a—  
And though, his calling of the soul takes care,  
Yet honest Hugh will give the flesh a share,  
And teach his Auditors, how they may see,  
And find out Puss sitting in Majesty:  
The surpless he abhors yet loves the smock,  
And when he fails of that heel use the frock,  
And so disgui'ed he thought the world to mock  
When Martyred Charles his head lay on the block:  
If by these signs you cannot find him out  
Instead of Hubub I have sent a scout,  
Who now returned, this narrative declares,  
The subtle Fox some times is catcht with snares,  
On friday 'twas, which some call venus' day  
Because that Planet than doth bear the sway  
And is predominant, and hath a slight  
A pretty one withered be day or night  
To couple loving things: the scent grows hot,  
And though our Hugo cunningly had got  
Himself into a Quakers house called Broad  
The fittest host to harbour such a—:  
Murder will not lie hide, his haunt is found,  
And steps are tract, without the help of hound;  
Hugh hunts not counter yet the wily whelp  
Finds out a cunning shift himself to help;  
To bed he goes, where Mrs Peach lay in  
The woman being green I hope no sin  
Was there committed, (weighty things in hand  
Men upon colours do not often stand)  
The proverb saith, here lurking he lay still  
As safe as any these lies in a Mill  
Oft in the pulpit he was wont to say  
He envied much those little doges which lay  
In Lady's beds places far more fit  
For men of lusty courage and choice wit,  
He hath his wish; the officers forbear  
In modesty the child bed to draw near,  
And fall to search all the Rooms and places,  
As 'tis the common use in such like cases,  
The next house was John Days an upright Quaker  
Because a Cobbler, and a great partaker  
With Hugh's desines: whilst each one beats his brains  
To find the fugitives, and spairs no pains  
Scouring each corner with a Zealous eye  
Wereied but as big where in a mouse might lie:  
Hugh takes his time, and whilst their all at gaze,  
Makes an escape and hies unto the Maze;  
His rapiere with his bible, and his coat  
He leaves behind, by which the searchers note  
Hugh cannot be far of, to Horse way down  
Where one Nathaniel Mun, a man well known—  
Had his abode, a tape-maker by trade,  
Though it were fit far he halters made,  
Peter conveys himself; with open Cry  
The chase is followed, Law-now by and by  
They find the horse, Mun's wife she keeps the door  
They thrust, she holds; I cannot tell you more,  
But some do say she had adown-right fall,  
Yet I'll not say she played at up tails all,  
Up stairs with full careirs the sergeant goes  
But at the door he finds one to oppose,  
And stoutly too, by which he aims and right  
'twas Hugh himself, with all his main and might,  
That strength is reenforced with new supplies  
For, Mr Arnold, Hobkins, Harris flies  
Unto the battery, who with doubled force  
Compel proud Peter to retreat: Remorse  
Now seizeth on him, and he faints for fear  
All symptoms of a Quaker now appear,  
With Impudence and brazen face he cries  
I am not Peter, who so calls me lies  
My name is Thomson; if that it be so  
Then Duplex nomen Duplex Nebulo:  
My action's good it'h law against you all  
Who thus abuse and wrongfully miscall  
An honest man, toth' damage of his purse  
And infamy of him; which is far worss.  
With this arrives young Peach (whose wife lay in  
Within which bed Hugh-peters' with out sin  
Had hid himself) and being asked if he  
Such Gloves, or Cane, as those did ever see,  
I did quoth he, and testify I can,  
They do belong unto that Gentleman,  
Pointing to Hugo: Hugo in a fume  
Denies it stoutly; but yet doth assume  
The pair of gloves, which on his hands he draws,  
Those bloody hands worse than Tigers paws,  
I'll not deny but these are mine quoth he  
Liars ought t'have a present memory,  
Which Hugo failed of: Hugo must away,  
The case is clear, he may not longer stay,  
Then take him, Derick, Gentlemen I pray  
Call me not Peter, least upon the way  
The incensed many hearing of my name  
Like Doctor Lamb should stone me for the same  
This granted Hugo, once again doth crave  
That he some private conference, may have  
With Mirs. Mun, women are best pleased when  
They meet in private with strong dockt able men;  
But that denied, the stallion being dry  
After the sports and heats of venery,  
He calls for drink his spirits to revive,  
It seems their thirsty who do often—  
Two quarts of rotgut beer he swallows up  
Desiring neither goblet horn or cup,  
Though I suppose horns he might have had  
Having himself, made many run horn mad.  
Now to the Tower must poor Peter trudge,  
Patience good Hugo 'tis in vain to grudge  
Before the grave Lieutenent he is brought  
What change is this? would ever man have thought,  
Cromwell's Confessor should be forced t'appear,  
Before a Royalist or Chevalier  
As a Delinquent; yet 'tis true, 'tis done  
he's under loyal Sir John Robinson  
Where we will leave him to repent, if he  
Be not too over grown in villainy,  
Once her remembers he did make a preach,  
And in her sermon did false doctrine teach  
Saying, the Welsh were only good to be  
Made hanging Clappers for a wooden tree:  
But yet her cousin lives, and may in time  
Behold Hugh Peter's mounting up, and climb  
The tritle tree, which stands by Hide park pale,  
For if her judgement do not highly fail  
He hath deserved it: thus the Fox you see  
Is earthed; if you do ask how this can be,  
Go to the Tower and you shall find it true  
Or else believe me not, and when old Hugh  
From this frail world shall take his last farewell,  
I'll be his friend and ring his passing bell,  
With out a clapper not with out a rope  
For that will be his end as most do hope   

London, Printed by P. Lillicrap. 1660.