THE DEVILS LAST LEGACY: OR, A Round-headed Ironmonger, made Executor to Pluto.

Wherein is shewed, The Discent of the Round-heads.

AS ALSO, The Round-heads great desire of a Crown, and to sway a Scepter, although it be but Pluto his Crown and Scepter.

Composed by W. K. first a Turke, and now turned Roundhead.

London, Printed Anno Domini, 1642.

The Devils last Legacy:

Pluto,

ALL haile my deare Adopted Sonne, thou alone art be that is my onely joy and hope, at whose sight my soule is filled with fatnesse, and the pleasure I take in thee runneth like to a Julop in my veines▪ come on brave soule, be couragious, for this I know, thy impudence it is so great, that the whole World is not able to out-face; lea [...]e close to me, and I will be as willing to entice, as thou to follow; leave me not, for then I shall not know to whom to leave my King­dome and immortall Scepter. Thou art the Heire and only he, be faithfull to my Kingdome, bend neither one way nor other, end as thou hast begun, and none shall more reward than I: my youngest Sonne Amimius hath quite left me, his too much yeelding made him fall off; goe on as thou hast begun, and I will reward thee.

Both my Scepter and my Diodem,
I leave to th' Rounheads, and to none but them.
Roundhead.

Great King and Prince of darkenesse, what­soever thou shalt command, no sooner spoke but done, I am as ready for to doe, as you to speak, and you not suller of en­ticements, but I twice as full of actions, yet fuller of Words, perhaps it may seem difficult to your understanding, but thus to doe good, I say much, but doe little, for I never in all my life knew how to doe good; I am the Heire, and delight to overtop men in wickednesse, I am presently desperate if I see any more wicked then I, yet cunning to the World, beare a faire show, and have the Devill Printed in my Heart, and strive to be the Prince of darkenesse Sonne: it is the height [Page]of my ambition to get his Crowne, and though all the world should bid farewell to Pluto and his Pallace, and sound a re­treat from his damnable designes, I would stand as fast as Mountaines.

My seates to shew, who can be at all fearefull,
To whom Grand Pluto saies, my Son be cheerfull.
Pluto.

Brave resolution Son, but in the way take some of my damnable devices, and what ever thou dost here on Earth, shall presently in my black pallace be innacted for a Statute: thou hast performed the duty of a Son in execu­ting my decrees that I left with you at the last Conventicles, where I wish I had not been with you, for I think I have got my last, from a Cobler, who in villany exceeded even his Fa­ther great Pluto. I having nor long life, enact thee overseer and chiefest Executor of my last Will and Testament, doe what in it is commanded, and I will in one houre bring thee to my Acaronticall Pallace, where nothing shall be too much for him that acknowledgeth me, hot scalding Lead, dear Son, shall be thy Nactar, thou shalt quaffe off whole boules of teare, to thy secconders, each sence with a greedy appe [...]ite shall have its fill, and the whole Man shall taste my best plea­sures, Musick thou shalt delight in much and heare a quire of Cerberuses and the Syrens of Hell;

In this performance have but Argus eyes,
For Musick, black zantes, and the Stigian cries.
Roundhead.

Ever honoured Prince, if a Son may have the permission and boldnesse to speak to a Farther, let what designe from you be spoken, my power in your service ex­tends it selfe so far that I will effect.

And think it done, what ever you command,
I'le perpetrate the thing I take in hand.
Pluto.
[Page]

Upon my death-bed Son, I enjoyne thee that thou seest my will compleatly performed, let not a Bishop in the Land have power, neither let the Churches stand, pull down all and abolish the light, that we may live in darknesse, a tub is sufficient for any one to Preach in: I would have my king­dome flourish that it may be said, tis Pluto's Kingdome, that is the chiefest Throne. Thou art an Ironmonger, and though thou hast broke here, I have Chaines and old Iron for to set thee up again; thou hast almost quit thy selfe, witnesse thy last Sermon of Toby an [...] his Dog, and the Tale in a Tub: To ch [...]nge a trade it is no [...]me, from an Ironmonger to a Coo­p [...]r, [...]d the b [...]st [...]d, for if t [...]y ze [...]le should strike the bot­tome out, then mi [...] thou exercise a faculty and turne C [...]oper, Cob [...]er, and Tinker, I reach thee a way to thrive; some of thy Brethren are horned heads as well as Roundheads, turn, Grafier and make one Branch two, that our Sect may the better be noted;

With Fa [...]alists, all things are lawfull Son,
[...] Round- [...]ead what thou hast begun.

Rou [...] I will [...]avour to the utmost, dread Sove­raigne, [...] thing by you commanded, and though I be cract in trade, I will not neglect your affaires, and be discou­raged in your occasions; I will also crack my braine before I will leave unperfected, what you command me.

Some call me little-Wit, but tis no evill,
For I have spent it all, to please the Devill.
Pluto.

This is my Will, deare Son, the first thing spe­cified is this:

  • I leave one hundred pound per Annum, for our Conventicles.
  • 2. I leave my Braines, Head, and Hornes to all the rest of [Page]our Brethren, for wickednesse and that which is naught they want not I am sure.
  • 3 And thirdly, I leave my Scepter and Kingdome to thee, and onely thee, deare Son: I cannot live, the Doctor specified so much to me the other day, but doe these things and I will helpe thee at all times, do any thing, nothing shall hinder thy course to my blacke Pallace, therefore disturbe me not, but goe about it, and I will betake me to my more serious consideratious.
I am a dying thus to him I say,
But for to punish, Round-heads live alway,
And this alone shall be my Round-head than
Which is a Brownist and a Knave,
But seemes an honest Man.

An Oration of the Round-head, a crackt Ironmonger, new made Executor to the Devill.

Roundhead,

BRethren, it is the fortune of Knaves and Fooles to have the best lucke: I make no question but it is well known to you all, that our Father Pluto hath given over trading, and hath made me supervisor of his last Will and Testament; tis a fortune beyond the Moone, and though I be both Knave and Foole, yst I thought the Proverbe would have crost it selfe in me; and seeing I am so chosen and predestinated, I will have an eye to all his entreaties, and execute the part of an adopted Son; he hath given me charge over your cum cu­ra animarum, therefore deare Sisters and Brethren, I must performe the part of the Devils Viccar and Curate of Hell, [Page]therefore lets follow him, and our Service-Clarke set the Song.

Clarke,

Lets sing this Song to the tune of Old Sir Symon the King; 'tis a New Dittie, el­levate you voyces.

GRand Pluto he is dead,
Lets sing in this very Day,
That he hath left his Throne
Ʋnto the Round-heads sway.
And Old Sir Symon the King,
And Old Sir Symon the King,
We'll have a thred-bare Coate, and a mamsey Nose,
Sing hey ding ding a ding ding.
The Ironmonger Rules,
The Cobler also Preaches,
The Tinker he Cornutes,
The Weaver sometimes teaches.
And Old Sir Symon the King.
The Sisters protles much,
Canarie-Birds imitating,
The Baker gets a Tubs,
And never holds his prating.
And Old Sir Symon the King.
We stuffe our guts with Capons,
Devotions but very small,
The World we thus can flatter,
And say Devotions all.
With Old Sir Symon the King.
To Westminster we trudge,
Each Man with a Bilbo blade,
At Night to Conventicles,
And ride like Hackney-Jade.
And Old Sir Symon the King.
The Miters from the Prelats
We will pull away,
No Man dare contradict,
Or once against it say.
Then Old Sir Symon the King.
The Divell hath left us his,
What is it we want at all,
Be stedfast sister deare,
Although that Round-heads fall.
Then Old Sir Symon the King,
Then Old Sir Symon the King,
Wee'l have a thred bare Coat, and a Mamsie Nose,
Sing hey ding ding a ding ding.
Clarke,

Peace and put out the Candles, you have gone a Note too high, lie all the Sisters downe, and straine lower, procreandi causa.

FINIS.

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