THE PROCLAMATION Promoted, OR AN HUE-and-CRY and Inquisition AFTER TREASON and BLOOD; Upon the Inhuman and horrid Murder of that Noble Knight, Impartial Justice of Peace, and Zealous Protestant, Sir EDMONDBERRY GODFREY of WESTMINSTER.  
An hasty POEM.  

O Murder! Murder! let this Shriek fly round,  
Till Hills and Dales, and Rocks and Shores rebound;  
Send it to Heaven and Hell; for both will be  
Astonished and Concerned as much as we.  
First send to Endor where of old did dwell  
An Hag, could Fates of Kings and Kingdoms tell;  
If that cannot be found, to Ekron go,  
To Pluto's Oracle and Hell below.  
There serve this Hue and Cry, for there 'twas hatched,  
(Except the Priests their Gods have overmatched.)  
Methinks Belzebub, if he be outdone  
In his Grand Mysteries; and Rome needs none  
Of his Black Arts, but can Out-Devil Hell,  
His Envy and Revenge this Plot should tell:  
And by disclosing in his own defence,  
Not only vindicate his Innocence,  
But hasten their destruction, and prevent  
Loss of his Trade, (the Jesuits intent)  
Unless he fears them, as indeed he may;  
When once in Hell, none shall Command but they.   

But if this Tragedy be all his own,  
And Roman Actors (taught by him) have shown  
How they can play all parts he can devise;  
Female or Male, with or without disguise:  
And need no Cacodoemons prompting Art  
Or Whisper, but can fill up any part;  
Fast, Pray and Weep, Swear and Forswear, Decoy,  
Trappan, Kiss, Flatter, Smile, and so Destroy,  
Stab, Pistol, Poison Kings, Unking, Dethrone,  
Blow up or down, Save, Damn, make all their own.  
Knows not he then, though founder of the Stage,  
The Laws of Theatres in every Age.  
That th' Actors, not the Author of the Play,  
Do challenge the Rewards of the first day.  
Make then their names renowned, and come to hide  
Such Children of thy Revels and thy Pride;  
Send to their Father, and thy eldest Son  
That Lucifer of Rome, what feats they've done:  
That he may make their names be understood,  
Written in Calendars of Martyrs Blood.   

But if the Fiends below be Deaf and Dumb,  
And this conjuring cannot overcome;  
They and their Imps be damned together: I  
To Gods on Earth will send my Hue and Cry.  
Arise Just Charles, Three Kingdoms Soul and mine,  
Great James thy Grandfather could well divine;  
And without Spell the bloody Riddle Spell,  
Writ by like Secretaries of Rome and Hell.  
And if Thy Proclamation cannot do,  
We pray God's Spirit may inspire Thee too.  
If Thy Prophetic Usher did not err,  
The Mass would enter by a Massacre.  
The Wounds Thy Godfrey found were meant for Thee,  
And Thou liest Murdered in Effigy.  
In God's Kings Kingdoms Cause this Knight was slain,  
Let him a Noble Monument obtain;  
Erected in Your Westminster's great Hall,  
That Courts of Justice may lament his Fall:  
And may (when any Papist cometh near)  
His Marble Statue yield a bloody tear.  
Yet let him not be buried, let him lie,  
The fairest Image to draw Justice by.  
There needs no Balm or Spices to preserve  
The Corpse from Stench, his Innocence will serve.   

Ye Lords and Commons join your speedy Votes,  
A Pack of Bloodhounds threaten all your Throats.  
And if their Treason be not understood,  
Expect to be dissolved in your own Blood.  
O Vote that every Papist (high and low)  
To martyred Godfry's Corpse in person go;  
And laying hand upon his wounded Breast,  
By Oath and Curse his ignorance protest.  
But oh the Atheism of that Monstrous Crew,  
Whose Holy Father can all Bonds undo:  
Whose Breath can put away the heavi'st Oath;  
Who fears no Heaven nor Hell, but laughs at both.  
Therefore a safer Vote my Muse suggests,  
For Priests and Jesuits can swallow Tests  
As Hocus Pocus doth his Rope or Knife,  
And cheats the gaping Farmer and his Wife.  
Oh Vote each Signpost shall a Gibbet be,  
And hang a Traitor upon every Tree.  
Yet we'll find Wood enough for Bonfire piles,  
T' enlighten and inflame our British Isles  
Upon th' approaching fifth November night,  
And make Incendiaries curse the light.  
November Fires Septembers may reveal,  
One Burn (we say) another Burn will heal.   

Lastly, And surely, let this Hue and Cry  
Reach Heaven, where every Star looks like an Eye  
To that High Court of Parliament above,  
Whose Laws are mixed with Justice and with Love;  
Whither Just Godfry's Soul's already come,  
And hath received the Crown of Martyrdom;  
Where Murdered Kings and slaughtered Saints do cry,  
Their Blood may never unrevenged lie.  
Ye Saints and Angels hate that Scarlet Whore,  
Whose Priests and Bats before your Shrines adore,  
And in their Massacres your Aid implore;  
Staining your Altars with the precious Gore:  
Pour down your Vials on their Cursed heads,  
And in Eternal flames prepare their Beds.  
And Thou Judge Jesus Hanged and Murdered too,  
By Power of Rome and Malice of the Jew,  
In Godfry's Wounds Thine own do bleed anew.  
Oh Rend Thy Heavens! Come Lord and take Thy Throne,  
Revenge Thy Martyr's Murder and Thine own.    

Licenced November 1. 1678.   

London, Printed for J. L. at the Blew-Bell in Fleetstreet, MDCLXXVIII.