A TURNCOAT of the Times.  
Who doth by experience profess and protest,  
That of all professions, a Turn-Coat's the best.  
Tune is, The King's Delight, Or, True Love is a Gift for a Queen.  
 
 

AS I was walking through  
Hyde-park as I used to do,  
some two or three months ago  
I laid me all along  
Without any fear of wrong,  
And listened unto a Song;  
It came from a powdered thing  
As fine as a Lord or a King,  
he knew not that I  
was got so nigh,  
And thus he began to sing.   

I am a Turncoat Knave,  
Although I do bear it brave,  
and do not show all I have,  
I can with tongue and pen  
Court every sort of men,  
And kill 'em as fast again.  
With Zealots I can pray,  
With Cavaliers I can play:  
with Shopkeepers I  
can cog and lie,  
And cozen as fast as they.   

When first the Wars began,  
And Prentices lead the Van,  
'twas I that did set them on,  
When they cried Bishops down,  
In Country, Court and Town,  
Quoth I, and have at the Crown,  
The Covenant I did take,  
For form and fashions sake,  
but when it would not  
support my plot,  
'Twas like an old Almanac.   

When Independency,  
Had superiority  
I was of the same degree;  
When Keepers did command,  
I then had a holy hand  
In Deans and in Chapters land:  
But when I began to spy,  
Protectorship drew nigh,  
and Keepers were  
thrown o'er the Bar;  
Old Oliver then cried I   
 
 

WHen Sectarists got the day  
I used my yea, and nay;  
to flatter and then betray,  
In Parliament I got,  
And there a Member sat,  
To tumble down Church & State,  
For I was a trusty trout  
In all that I went about  
and there we did vow  
to sit till now,  
But Oliver turned us out.   

We put down the house of Peers,  
We killed the Cavaliers,  
and tippled the widows Tears  
We sequestered men's Estates,  
And made 'em pay monthly rates  
To trumpeters and their mates.  
Rebellion we did Print,  
And altered all the Mint;  
no knavery than  
was done by men,  
But I had a finger in't.   

When Charles was put to flight  
Than I was at Wor'ster fight  
and got a good booty by't  
At that most fatal fall  
I killed and plundered all,  
The weakest went to the wall,  
Whilst my merry mates fell on,  
To pillaging I was gone,  
there is many (thought I)  
will come by and by,  
And why should not I be one.   

We triumphed like the Turk,  
We crippled the Scottish Kirk  
that set us at first to work,  
When Cromwell did but frown  
They yielded every Town,  
St. Andrew's Cross went down  
But when old Nol did die,  
And Richard his Son put by,  
I knew not how  
to guide my plough,  
where now shall I be thought I.   

I must confess the Rump  
Did put me in a dump,  
I knew not what would be trump  
When Dick had lost the day  
My gaming was at a stay,  
I could not tell what to play,  
When Monk was upon that score  
I thought I would play no more  
I did not think what  
he would be at,  
I ne'er was so mumped before.   

But now I am at Court,  
With men of the better sort  
and purchase a good report;  
I have the eyes and ears,  
Of many brave Noble Peers,  
And slight the poor Cavaliers,  
Poor knaves they know not how,  
To flatter, cringe and bow,  
for he that is wise  
and means to rise,  
He must be a Turncoat too.    

Printed for William Thackeray at the Angel in Duck-lane.