THE Last Will and Testament OF Father Petre's.
[1]
IN his Holiness's Name,
With Amen I proclaim
My Last Will and Testament following;
Who in Body am Well,
But in Mind monstrous Ill,
While in dismal Despair I am wallowing.
[2]
My Soul I bequeath
To the Regions beneath,
It has long to the Devil been due;
To be tortur'd with Pain
Worse than I did ordain
To inflict on the Heretick Crew.
[3]
My Body a Pledge
I give to the Sledge,
To ride on't to Tyburn in State;
And there in a Cart
Before I depart
All my Villainous Actions relate.
[4]
When the Rout I've harrangu'd,
To submit to be Hang'd,
And e're Dead to be Cut down, and Quarter'd;
While each Blockhead and Whore
Dips a Clout in my Gore,
To proclaim to the World I am Martyr'd.
[5]
My Politick Head,
With my Quarters, when dead,
Each one to be Perch'd on a Pole;
Thus by Prophetick Spirit,
According to Merit,
I've dispos'd of my Body and Soul.
[6]
And next, I declare,
Not to mention an Heir,
My Executor wholly and full;
That hopeful young Spark,
Though at present i'th' dark,
Yet will shine like the Moon at the full.
[7]
My Funeral Charge,
As it will not be large,
So 'twill take up less room in my Will,
But was it much more,
Since I dye on this score,
He'll never be troubled with Bill.
[8]
It may do the Youth good,
For all his High Blood,
'Tis full Threescore Thousand compleat;
As 'twas gain'd by a Fool,
So I leave't to a Tool,
While the Church and Relations I cheat.
[9]
My Books, though not many,
For I never lov'd any,
He may keep for his private occasions;
They're of Riddles and Dreams,
From whence I took Themes
To furnish my self with Orations.
[10]
The rest of my Stuff,
Since he has enough,
I bequeath to a pretty young Sinner,
'Twill furnish a Room,
To practise at home,
And encourage a hopeful Beginner.
[11]
I'll not give him the trouble
To pay the Priests double,
To pray me from Purgatory;
For that, like the rest
Of our Creed, is a Jest,
Just as true as the Song of John Dory.
[12]
For if there's a Hell,
I deserve it so well,
I need not despair of the Place;
And none but an Ass
Will believe that the Mass
Can ever restore him to Grace.
[13]
I confess there are Fools
Which our Church daily gulls,
And particularly with this Notion,
Who when they do pray,
Know not one word they say,
'Tis their Ignorance helps their Devotion.
[14]
But I'm wide of my Text,
Being damnably vext,
To see how we Jesuits are fool'd;
And your Prospect of Peace
Does my Torments increase
More than losing my Life and my Gold.
[15]
On our Brotherhood all
May my last Blessing fall,
And on every Monk, Fryer, and Priest;
May they, e're 'tis too late,
Partake of my Fate,
And become every Heretick's jest.
[16]
I wou'd have enlarg'd,
But my Conscience discharg'd,
I'll here make an end of my Sermon;
And wish all this throng
May be damn'd, old and young,
And so drive away, honest Carman.
LONDON, Printed in the Year 1688.