The Doctor Degraded; Or The REWARD of DECEIT: Being an Account of the Right Perfidious, and Perjury'd TITƲS OATES; Who Recieved Sentence at the Kings-Bench-Bar, at Westminster the 16th day of May, 1685.

O Cruel Fate! why art thou thus unkind,
So wavering and unconstant in thy Mind,
To turn (like weather-Cocks) with every Wind?
Did'st thou not once make Oates thy Favourite,
Thy only Darling, and thy dear Delight?
And mounted him upon thy Wings so high,
That he could almost touch the very Skie,
And now must Oates stand in the Pillory?
There to be Battered so with Rotten Eggs,
Both on the Face, the Body and the Legs,
That he will wish himself in Hell for Ease,
And Beg as Beggars do for Bread and Cheese,
That Oates might not be Thresh'd as Men do Pease.
And must he too (when once he has stood there)
Be sent to Ride upon the Three-Leg'd-Mare?
Zouns what's the meaning of it with a Pox?
Is that the way to pay his Christmas-Box?
Was he not once the Saviour of the Nation,
And must he be Contemn'd and out of Fashion?
Call'd Perjur'd Rogue and slighted be by all,
And toss'd about just like a Tennis-Ball.
What if he did Forswear himself a little,
Must his sweet Bum be rubb'd thus with a Nettle?
O fie! 'Tis not well done to Rob the Spittle.
But 'tis in vain I see to Mourn for Oates,
For if we Roar until we split our Throats,
We cannot help the poor distressed thing;
No hopes to get a Pardon of the King,
Therefore he must endure his Suffering.
Indeed (if to Lament would do him good)
Then we would Weep that's to be understood:
But, my beloved Brethren in the Lord,
That cannot keep him from a Hempen-Cord,
Or from his peeping through a Two-inch-Board.
And so 'tis needless that we Vex or Fret,
God's holy Will be done, we must Submit.
However let poor Oates be Brisk and Bonny
(Long as he Lives) he shall not want for Money,
For to his Hive we'll bring both Wax and Honey.
Yet (if he should be Hang'd and Die that way)
Oates will spring up again at Judgment Day,
Altho there will not be a bit of Hay.
But 'tis a great Disgrace that O brave Oates
(The Rampant Doctor of Religious Plots)
Is not (in state) Promoted up on High;
The just Reward of bloudy Perjury.
Yet he's no Coward, fearing to be Halter'd,
Unless of late his Courage should be Alter'd:
Fight Dog, fight Bear, he values not a Fig,
He always was and e'er will be a Whigg,
And stand up for the Cause we know full well,
Tho he were sure almost to go to Hell.
Therefore if he be Hang'd, and in a Cart
Carried to Tyburn, what cares he a Fart,
At last the Dearest Friends of all must Part.
And now Beloved Brother Oates adieu,
Altho this story looks a little Blue,
Yet what I Wrote of thee is very True.

LONDON, Printed by George Groom, at the Sign of the Blue-Ball in Thames-street, over against Baynard's-Castle. 1685

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