The COURT of ENGLAND. Or, The Preparation for the Happy CORONATION of King WILLIAM and Queen MARY.

COme Gallants, let's tender
Those Hearts we surrender
At the best Coronation of our Faiths great De­fender,
Now Glory shall Rule:
No more Popish Edge-tool;
Thanks Heav'n, of a knave we've at last made a Fool,
of a Iesuit.
Th' High-Commission-Court-Si [...]am,
Iess—s, Devil, and Dam,
Once maul'd our poor Church with the Popes bat­t'ring Ram;
Run the great Sleeves of Lawn
No more shall be drawn
Into Nooses and Goals by the impudent Spawn
of a Iesuit.
Who but they and their Crew
Poor Iames could undo,
And lose him his Honour and Diadem too;
By Petres false measure,
Th' unfortunate Caesar,
Turn'd (alas) out a grazing, like Nebuchadnezzar,
by the Iesuit.
With your Chancellor false Steward,
Romes Scholar so toward,
Your Castlemain Nuntio, & your Cardinal Howard,
You have out-done the shot
Of your Gunpowder Plot,
And blown up the credulous Iames; have ye not?
ye false Iesuit.
Our Freedoms and Charters
Were the first of your Martyrs,
For Rome had begun to take up her headQuarters
Her Vengeance to wreak,
All Faith we must break,
For Law, Oaths, & Gospel are all Bonds too weak
for a Iesuit.
With your sly false preambles,
For your dear Stakes and Shambles,
And goring 3 Kingdoms with the old Thorns and Brambles;
What Engines infernal
In the Popish Diurnal,
Could fill the whole world with Treasons eternal
but the Iesuit?
A Shesuit, that Sheater,
Rogue, Villain, and Traytor!
By the flesh of her pones, her Welsh plood rises at her;
Very fine, Shentlefolks,
A Welsh Heir, with a pox,
Was her get her a Prince in a Shugglers Box?
Cunning Shesuit.
Has her Foreh [...]ad no blush on
Such Proshects to push on,
As was raise her Welsh Heir to Three Crowns-from a Cushion
To who, splutternails,
Does her tell her sham Tales?
Has her none to put trick on but her Nation of Wales,
Roguy Shesuit?
Oh! to pay her old score,
Had her Son of a Whore
On a Ladder, as high as her own Penmenmour
Was [...]er once but truss'd up,
Till Her cut the Rope,
Her might hang there till doomsday, her self & her Pope
for a Shesuit.
T [...]e Pope that faw Turk,
[...]o sleely at weerk,
With aw his faw Imps to pull down the Kirk,
Now the Mange, our Scotch plague,
On that Scarlet Whore-Hag,
And Deel sole the wem, the luggs, and the crag
of the Jesuit.
For [...]d Jemmy's sad folly,
With Jaggy and Dolly
Ile dance a Scotch Iig for bonny WILLY and MOLLY;
With Jockey and Sawny,
Aw lads teugh and brawny,
Weese drub the faw face, aw black, blew, & tawny,
of the Jesuit.
O Le Rogue English trick!
Dit de poor Catolick
Shou'd be kick, knock, & tump, and run down to Old Nick.
But begar, de Vengeance
Of my Ma'ter of France
Sall lead English Heretick-dog a French Dance,
for de Iesuit.
Sall L [...]wis sit still?
Vat fo [...]l, tink he will,
When old Ieme, and he so long piss in a Quill?
No, Bougre Garsoon,
With Monsieur Dagroon,
Begar we come o're, and fight blood and woon
for de Iesuit.
Dough Iemmy Monsier,
(Pox taka Myn-heer)
Has losta de Crewn of de damn Angletere;
In Eerl [...]nd, brave boy,
With Vive le Roy
We crewn him agin a new Monarch dear-joy,
for de Iesuit.
BVb a boo! Bub! oh hone!
The Broder of the son,
And de Shild of mee Moder de poor Teague undone!
Pull down Mass-house and Altar,
And burn Virgin Psalter,
And make hang upon Priest, and no friend cut de Halter
of poor Jesuit.
When Teague first came o're
To de Engeland shore,
Wid 6, 7, 8 Tousand Irish Lads, all and more:
Teague was promist good Fashion,
Great Estate in de Nation,
Wid all London in his pocket, upon mee shaulwashion
by de Jesuit.
But when de Bore Dutch,
Got Teague in his clutch,
Stead of make great estate, & Chreesknows what much
Damn'd Heretick Dogue
Made Teague a poor Rogue,
Turn'd him home to make starve w [...]dout shoe or broge;
for de Jesuit.
But I'le beg Captains Plaash
Of de sweet Eyes and Faash
Of mee Dear-joy Tyrconnel his Majesties Graash;
And fight like a Hero,
By mee shaul a Mack-Nero,
Cut Troat for Shaint Patrick, and sing Lilli burlero
for de Jesuit.
HOld cut-weason Skellom,
And let Myn-heer tell 'om,
For Englond's great Hog [...] & [...] Lord Willem
And the dear English-mons,
Their Church, Laws, and Londs,
U [...]n Duch-londers fight with all hoarts & honds,
'gainst the Jesuit.
SAy'st thou so, Friend Myn-beer?
Then adieu to all fear,
France, Ireland, Pope, Devil, come all if you dare:
Come Lads, let's be jogging,
The French Ears want lagging,
And Teague, and Tyrconnel's false Hide must have flogging
for the Iesuit.
Whilst kind Dutch Tarpaulin
With English-boys fall in,
And both our stout Navys proud Britain shall wall in:
No Pope shall destroy us,
Nor Monsieur annoy us,
With William and Marys blest Reign to o're­joy us.
Farewel Iesuit.

Printed by A. M. for R. Mayhurst in Little Britain, 1589

Licens [...]d and Enter'd according to Order.

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