Rome's Hunting-Match for III. Kingdoms; England, Scotland and Ireland: plainly showing all the PLOTS and Contrivances of the PAPISTS against the PROTESTANTS: A thing very fit to be kept as a Memorandum in all true PROTESTANT Families. Video, Rideo, peribis. etc. Avarice Pride Lust The Antichristian Thine. Mine. Cren. Self-intrest Treachery. Murder. Adultery Hypocracy ‛ Strange Ambition Ignorance Idolatry. Zech: 2 5. I. will be unto her awall of fire round about christan. The Whore's PRINCIPLES, left behind her, when she began this HUNT, to be observed by all her spurious Offspring, upon no less penalty than eternal Damnation. viz. The Gospel is an empty Ch●●t, All our Aim is to be great, The Moral man's a Widgeon: Come let us mount on Eagles wings Above all Emperors and Kings, State-Policy is our Religion. Reader, There's a Srange Cur got among the Antichristian Crew, he is without his Formalities, or Badge of his Order, but his Name and Fireball represents him to be the Provincial (i.e. the Chief) of the Jesuits here in London when they burned it; he and another Cur, called Gifford, managed that Fire, hiring and paying those carrying it on from house to house, etc. But being out of his Orderly habit, and with a Pen, he may pass for a Lay-brother who prints, sells, writes or speaks against the King's Evidence, and for the Popish Faction: or any one that knows himself concerned. ROME doth now a Hunting ride, With all her Beagles by her side, In rough tempestuous Wether, On the Top of all the Morn This Harlot blew her bugle Horn To call her Dogs together. This filthy Babylonish Trull, Whose Charms the enchanted World does gull, Is Lucifer's dear Minion, She sets herself to open Sale, And like a Spannel wags her Tale, To the Blind Witch Opinion. The Virgin Spring was in her prime, To † i e. Protestant Blood. hunt for Blood they rose betime, Their Lost Game to recover. O'er the Downs and humble Dales, The Friars, Monks and Cardinals, Like hungry Hawks they hover. This little SPOT stood in their Ey, Which men do call Great Brittany, So strong is their Devotion, Let us send forth our Hellish Band, we'll have it at our full Command, Or drown it in the Ocean. Round about this Isle they range, Their Forest & their hunting Grange, Here, all her Dogs assemble: The Nation like a Drunkard reels, For underneath their Horse's Heels, The Earth doth quake and tremble On these rich unvalued Grounds She uncouples all her Hounds, Ambition, deepmouthed Jowler, Self-Interest, a Beagle fierce, His thundering cry the heavns did pierce, He wo'ud be Lord controller. Murder and Idolatry Into all corners cast their Ey, With Nets and 'Gins prepared, Th' every Town their Game they play, Th' every House their Lime-twigs lay, That (a) Christians. Lambs may be ensnared. Treachery doth learing stand, With a keen Dagger in his hand, Adultery doth follow, They hunt in silence and are still, And when they do intend to kill, They neither houp nor hollow. Hypocrisy clothed all in White, Like a Cherubin of Light, The Garland He had gotten He always sings a double Tune, With rosy Cheeks, like Rose in June, His inside is all rotten † Let them do, or pretent what they will, etc. believe Him not; you are forewarned. . Saywell with a fluent Tongue, A lusty Beagle bold and strong, Was by this Harlot trained, This Tumbler had the fawning Skill, Enchanting words and wind at Will, But DO-WELL he was chained, Mine and Thine are Beagles fierce, They challenge the whole Universe, The poor man is brought under, A wondrous blind ridiculous Story, By Masses and by Purgatory, Heaven, Earth, and Hell they plunder. LOVE from door to door they kick, Community's an Heretic, Their own Paunch only feeding: Their Hearts are frozen up with frost, The Lady Charity is lost, CHRISTIANITY lies bleeding. Lofty PRIDE doth puff and pant, Riding upon an Elephant, With outward Pomp adorned: Exalted to an high degree, They trample on the bended knee, HUMILITY is scorned. Haman mounted into grace, Would extinguish Abraham's Race, By sound of Proclamations, With thundering Cry, this busy hound To all these Beagles doth propound, To murder three whole Nations † 'twas sworn, They were resolved, not to leave a Protestant alive to tell of such a Religion as the Protestant Religion. For, Murder's become indeed A new Article of their Creed, Love is an Airy Notion, They * See the sheet called Godfry's Murder made Visible. Godfrey all who, in their eye, Don't bow with their Idolatry, So great is their Devotion, Holofernes is not dead, Like Grasshoppers his Army's spread, Encompassed with Fires, See how they swarm on English ground, ENGLAND, thou art besieged round With Jesuits, Monks and Friars. Esau doth this Game pursue, He is of this hunting Crew, O miserable Dotage, That he should love the World so well, His Heavenly heritage to sell, For a poor Mess of Pottage. Indulgences in these rude times, For hellish and unheard of Crimes, Are sent to every Nation: Lust, Pride and Avarice are graced, And on the Triple Crown are placed, As in their proper Station. Shimei's Tongue is wondrous shrill, The Echo bounds from Hill to Hill, Through all the Woods resounding, This envious Dog doth bark and bawl, But Babse●ah out-rants them all, In * The Language of Rome's Brats. Damning and Confounding. Doeg, Nabal scold and chide, Upon a grunting Hog they ride, Enrolled among the Swineheards: Ahab and proud Jesabel, With Avarice and Malice swell, To grasp poor Naboth's † The Lives as well as Estates of Protestants are now sought for. Vineyard. Achitophel was in this Train, Goliath, Judas murdering Cain, Old Dives choked with Treasures, Mark Anthony came to this Feast, The Greek that conquered all the East, With a Regiment of Caesar's. Mighty Monarches that aspire, To ruin ALL with * Massacres, and burning Cities, as London, etc. are Popish Mercys. Sword and Fire, A Lamentable Story, Through a Crimson sea of Blood, Like an overflowing Flood, They'd wade unto vain Glory. The Horned Moon wo'ud all control, He fireth up the Northern Pole, The Scythian aids his Title, The Nations he doth subjugate; For this Ambitious Potentate, The World is too too little. Dionysius, brisk and brave, Must shortly come unto his grave, Did quarrel with the Eagle; Riding upon a tired Ass, Through ruinous Cities he doth pass; Is not this a jolly Beagle? All these Beagles in their Chase Hunt the Lamb from place to place, With Hollowing and with hooting, O'er the Downs they dance the Hay, The Protestant is now their prey, This Dove can find no footing. Earthen Vessels clash and knock, Dashed topieces on a Rock, The Mighty Hogen Mogen, Tyrants are by Tyrants slain, The LORD of Hosts intends to reign, When all these Pots are broken. A PRAYER. Arise, Great MICHAEL, in thy Power, Pull down proud Babel's lofty Tower, Thy Love is Heavenly Nectar, Thy little Lambs do bleat for THEE. Draw thy bright Sword to set us free, Who art our LORD PROTECTOR. LONDON Printed by T. Dawks in Black Friar, 1680. N.B. Lately was printed a Chronology of Popish Errors when & by whom brought 〈◊〉.