THE Melancholy Complaint OF D. OTES, OF The Black Ingratitude of this present Age TOWARDS HIM, And the Evil Rewards he has Receiv'd for his NUMBERLESS SERVICES Done for the NATION.
Dii (siqua est Coelo pietas quae talia curet)
Persolvant grates dignas; & praemia reddant
Debita—
Virg. Aen. 2.
LONDON: Printed for Charles Brome, at the Gun in St. Paul's Church-Yard. MDCLXXXIV.
THE Melancholy Complaint OF D. OTES.
WHat could a curst ungrateful Age do more
Imposture like, to punnish him so sore
Whom for a Saviour, they ador'd before.
I was the man, O! cruell change of Fate:
Once, thought the Pillar of the sinking State,
Am now become the very Jayl-birds hate,
Out of a Pallace, into a Dungeon thrust,
From Six good Dishes, to snap at a crust,
By God and man like Cain, mark't out and curst.
Is this the end of all my promis'd Joys,
I that once made such Busle, and such Noise,
Puft up with Triumphs of the shouting Boys.
With what applause was I receiv'd by th' Rabble
When I gave hopes for to rebuild their Babel;
But now they'll hang me, 'cause I was not able.
With watring Chopps, I call to mind the cheer,
That oft I made with many a Noble Peer,
Now in good time may snack the basket here.
I do remember too how tumbling pence
Came rowling in when I did first commence
Master of th' Art, and Doctor Evidence,
For want of which I never shall get hence.
'Tis strange that Bolts, and Bars, and Iron Grates,
The Just reward of perjur'd Rogues, and Cheats,
Should prove the Praemium of my glorious Feats,
Ungrateful Slaves! What! have ye quite forgot
How for your sakes strange Kingdoms I did trot
Brought nothing home but th' wonder of my Plot;
Though many shifts [...] I have been put too,
Scarce able to provide [...] back and gut too,
And often times was forc'd to pad a-foot too
Nay, many times I've lain all day in Bed,
Because abroad I durst not shew my head
But when't grew dark, stole out to beg my bread.
What I have suffer'd for the Kingdom's sake,
In want's and dangers what I did pertake,
And now to fear the Gibbet or the Stake,
Brethren, 'twill cause your tender hearts to ake.
I curst my Country, and deny'd, my Credo,
And for the Nations good, turn'd Runegado,
Received Cruell Whitebread's Bastinado,
I worship't Idols that were false I knew;
And when I'd done, swore they were Gods most true;
And play'd the Devil for the sakes of you;
I pray'd to Saints, in time of need, with cryes,
Till they had granted my necessities,
My Almes obtain'd their Saint-ship's I'd despise;
I chang'd Religion, often as my name,
Spew'd out and hated whereso'ere I came,
Hanted by th' Devil, Beggary and shame,
Through the wild Sects, and Tribes, I made a Ramble
And to them all did lye, swear, and dissemble,
Enough to make the very Devils tremble,
Thus by me were the silly Jesuites sham'd;
When as with tears I swore I should be damn'd
If not receiv'd into their Holy Band.
I made them think Religion was the Tye,
That did engage me when I came to Spye,
Since 'tis well known, the Devil a bit had I.
I made his Holiness believe, the Pope,
That in his pardons I conceived such hope,
That for his cause, I'd suffer Fire or Rope;
But when I'd got my foot out of his door,
I Rail'd, and call'd him Babylonian Whore,
And many Horrid things against him swore;
For why, I ne're yet valued Faith or Troth.
Or ever made more scruple of an Oath,
Then of a blast of breath, to cool my Broth.
I quickly kill'd the worm, within that gnaws,
And made the Gospel, Prophets, and the Laws,
Come truckle Brethren, to your good Old Cause;
I laught at all Religion, and its Baubles;
Such as Evangelists and holy Tables;
Esteeming them no more then Aesops Fables;
Like merry Lucian, look't on't as a Tale;
A dull insipid thing, grown Old and Stale,
Serves me to joak on o're a pot of Ale;
I scoff't and scorn'd, but ne're would cringe or bow
To those grave fools that do such tales allow,
And would have judg'd them to the Cart, or Plough,
That with you I might gain repute and fame,
I laught at Conscience as a Bug-bear name;
And shook off quite all modesty and shame,
In hopes once more you'd come to rule the Roast,
I mad my self Knight-errant of the Post;
Of which I take the vanity to boast;
For good of Common-Wealth without repine,
I franckly Dedicated me, and mine,
Contemning Laws, both humane, and divine;
Vast Sums I in the publick service spent?
Much money to the needy Jesuit Lent,
When at that time, I'd neither Land nor Rent;
The corresponding charges I did own,
When to the Lords my just accounts were shown,
Besides some By-ones more than e're were known,
The many painfull journeys, to and fro,
Embassador 'twixt Devil, and Turk to go,
To all the World my vast expences show;
Besides, for Flying Horses which would scower,
To France or Spain, and back in half an hour,
With old Nicks fees for granting me this power,
I morgag'd all my Heritage and Lands,
To purchase from the Roman General's hands
Commissions for my new rais'd secret Bands
But Oh! [...]he Devil poor man was ne're so crost
When God knows what those Roman Bulls had cost,
Lo! suddenly they vanisht, and were lost,
To M [...]iber for strange and curious Arms,
Made with such cunning magick spells, and charms,
To fright and fear, and do no further harms;
Procuring of rich Cordials for the King,
The which I judg'd, the saf'st and surest thing,
Him to his bed, of longest rest to bring;
For Blunder-buss, or Cross-bow, I count nought,
Because for secret services they were bought;
Besides, were not well manag'd as they ought;
At many other charges I have been,
For preservation of the Duke and Queen,
And swearing things were never heard nor seen;
For Doctor-ship, and Salamanca fees;
Where Pistols flew away as thick as Bees;
Pox on their University degrees,
For antient books, that I in Aegypt bought,
From the fam'd Ptolemaeus Study brought
No Gypsie gibberish ones, as some have thought
I bought in Spain, the witty Guzman's works,
The holy league 'twixt Teckley, and the Turks
With Machiavel's, state-niceties and querks,
All this and more I freely did disburse,
For th' Nations good out of my privy purse
And never thought my self a groat the worse,
But this is nothing to a thousand more,
Good services, that I have still in store,
Such as the Devil himself, ne're did before;
The many famous deeds that I have done,
Since I the Kingdoms mighty work begun,
Have made Ketch half as rich as squire Dunn
What Tongue can tell with how much cunning Art
I did contrive my Plot in every part,
Of which the Tories should have felt the smart.
For whom I list of it, I could accuse,
If to compound with me they did refuse,
I swore good Christians to be Turks and Jews
The Jesuites I set like any Spannel,
To do their work I had a ready pannell.
That scare would give 'em time, to buy them flannel.
I watcht for Priests, as Cat doth watch for Mouse,
At midnight, low belling from house to house,
Though here I'm forc'd each night to hunt for Louse,
I rail'd at th' Privy Council, and at Scrogs
And call'd them damn'd confounded, popish Dogs
'Cause they'd not hang all those which I call'd Rogues.
Those were my golden days, my days of power,
When great ones, fear'd me, when I sent each hour
At least a score to New-gate and the Tower;
I made them tremble at my very word,
Which did the work as sure as any Sword,
Though now 'tis no more valued then a T—
Then was I stout as I St. George had been
At th' Commons Bar to stick I ne're was seen
Of Treason to accuse Lord, D. or Queen.
No man durst thwart me, with desire of pelf
I rag'd and grew to such a peevish Elf
Had the King next me, I had peacht himself;
For at that time I'd brought things to such pass
In open Court, I'd bid 'em kiss my A—
But now the times are chang'd Alas! Alas!
I was by most S'rd, Reverenc'd and respected
From Popish Treasons by my Guards protected,
Though now like Rogue I'm slighted and neglected;
Each word that from my sacred lips then fell
Received were as holy Oracle,
Though now they say 'twas all the craft of Hell,
I rul'd and Reign'd in mighty pomp and state
Whilst in the House my Lords and Masters sate,
I furnish'd them with business of debate.
'Twas pritty in those days good faith to see
Your popishly affected Lords with fee
And cap in hand come sneaking after me,
They fear'd my very menaces and frown,
Dreaded my anger more than of the Crown,
For I could pull their lofty stomachs down.
I was the Torries Plague their Iron Rod,
I huft the Bishops, on their Miters trod,
Swore what I list, fear'd neither man nor God
Just as I pleas'd State-matters i'd dispose,
Found the Kings Friends to be the Kingdoms Foes;
To smell out Traytors none had such a Nose.
I pointed out Mer-worthy, Wise and Just,
Whom I thought fit for Offices of Trust,
And told the King those were the men he must
Advance, and those great Officers of State
Well known again their good or evil fate
Depended much on my politick pate;
For those that did not Romanists annoy,
And their Adherents hated more destroy,
I thought unfit their places to enjoy;
But by Adherents, would you know what's meant,
For 'tis a word of very large extent,
All those whom we thought fit to circumvent
I did advise the Kingdom to disgrace,
The next Successor of the Royall Race
And to exalt a Bastard in his place;
The King I councell'd into safer hands,
To put the Navy and the trained bands,
Content himself to live on his Crown-lands,
T'leave Popish Councils, follow better courses,
Turn out his Guards, those mercenary forces,
Live privately, and keep a brace of horses
His Guards did terrifie good peaceful men,
He might go live, and trust himself with them
As safe as Daniel in the Lyons Den;
I did commend him to the Commons care
Wisht him t'obey, by whispering in his Ear,
The disobedience of his Father dear;
If he'd be wise, and rul'd by them, no doubt,
And turn his old and wealthy minnions out,
Soon all his business, would be brought about,
They'd give him money, or what else he pleas'd
When he his subjects of their yoke had eas'd
And every squeamish Conscience was appeas'd.
I always pray'd for the Parliaments sitting,
And that too as long as their worships thought fitting
Because when they met, they minded their knitting
For had they sat on I was in fair hopes
To have got an Estate by cutting of Throats,
But now I shall never be worth ten groats,
For I deserv'd the Mannor of Bobbing
For Parliament business and other jobbing
As well as a Thief a halter for Robbing.
The next good Service that I did the Crown,
Was to possess the Country and the Town
They'd here be safe till Monarchy came down;
That Monarchy unjustly still bereaves
Of Liberty, and makes poor Subjects Slaves;
And is upheld by prating Fools and Knaves:
To prove it by Examples, I did chuse
Some Stories of the Old Rebellious Jews,
With some late Manuscripts of Doctor Hugh's.
For in those Days when Israel had no King,
Without Controul, men might do any thing,
Live merrily, and go t'Heaven in a String.
I oft did from the lofty Pulpit bawl,
And not obscurely hinted to them All,
To trust not much, some Great Ones at White-Hall:
I told Designs were hatching many Years,
On both sides whisper'd Jealousies and Fears
In hopes they'd fall together by the Ears:
I rais'd up Storms and Tempests in the State
That threatn'd all the Ship with dreadful Fate,
I hopes I should be Chosen Master's Mate,
For why, my Skill in Pilotting was such
That I had learned of the Neighbouring Dutch,
That at the Choice the Saylors would not grutch;
By their own Compass I my Course would steer
From Popish Shoales, and Sands, still keeping clear,
Nor lofty Rocks of Tyranny come near:
But oh! the fates! the Tempest was descry'd,
The jealous Master all the matter spy'd,
And I was in the Hold fast bound and ty'd;
I had a Post each moment sent from Hell,
A nimble Spark, that knew my Genius well,
With express Orders purposely to tell
And teach me every thing that's done above,
Or underneath the mighty Throne of Jove,
And all his pains was purely for my love;
For by this means I knew of things to come,
As well as what in Elder Times was done;
And by it all my former Credit won;
For in those days who was so great as I,
Or could so soon strange Misteries espye,
'Twas almost Death to give me but the Lye.
I told the Parliament, how that the Queen
After the murder'd Justice she had seen,
Made a low Courtesie to Hill, and Green,
And thankt them kindly for the pains they'd ta'en.
I saw the Duke, in Parliament I swore,
I did believe through sixteen Doors, and more,
Communicating with the Roman Whore;
I call'd him stubborn Rogue, that ne're would bend,
And told them plainly he was not their Friend,
Therefore Advis'd them to Contrive his End:
I workt it so, for all his great Commands,
I made him glad to scape out of their hands
By Shifting for himself in Forreign Lands.
I rav'd and went on, and was't not pritty
To Accuse the King in the Secret Committee,
And jeer him at Clubbs and Cabals in the City.
I wondred how Brave English Heroes cou'd
Be Rul'd and Govern'd by the Scottish Blood,
Such Servitude I nere esteemed good.
Therefore their Indignation to appease
If that they'd issue forth a Writ of Ease
I'd serve it on Him when their honours please,
I taught the people that since Babel Tower,
From them alone Kings did drive their power,
Whom if they pleas'd they might change every hour.
From Club to Club made drunk where e're I came
I loudly rail'd against the Stuarts Name,
And did their Father's persecutions blame;
I made dissenting Saints believe that he
Design'd t'ensnare their Souls and Liberty,
And on him sham'd the Irish Massacre:
I prais'd Old Noll the Armies Bully-Rock
With those good men that brought him to the Block,
Him above all that gave the fatal knock:
I curst the Fates of that unlucky day
Wherein Old Rowly strangely slipt away
And would not for his Friends at Worcester stay.
I wisht the Devil might th' popish Traytor choak
That hid him from us in the rotten Oake,
Which is as true a word as e're I spoke;
A sneaking Dog whose conscience was so nice
A Thousand pounds would not the Thief entice,
I would have don't for half the money, twice.
With grief I celebrate that Feast in May
Which Tories call their great Thanksgiving day,
As for a Judgment then, I fast and pray.
These are the Services I've done the Nation
As a fore-runner of new Reformation
And to make way for the Association;
For which I should to great perferment rise
Rewarded and advanc'd above the Skyes
By th' keepers of the English Liberties,
This to be true, time would have prov'd my words,
Better then Bar of Commons, or of Lords,
By the fair Tryal of your Pikes and Swords;
For as Reformers must, I've wrought some wonders
Which should have been confirm'd by warlike Thunders
Made out by Rapine, Sacrilidge, and Plunders:
With Roman Bulls, black-bills and Smith-field Spits
I frighted three Kingdoms out of their wits,
And made them fall into convulsion fits;
I made them on a sudden fly to prayer
For fear of Mountains falling from the Air,
Which made some soft Pates, of their brains despair.
Some chuse to dye by true Protestant Ropes
And some for fear of Papists,
St. Soll. E. Ess.
cut their Throats,For which they were beholding unto Otes;
Whilst others frighted with the hdeous cryes
Of Fairy Armies fighting in the Skies,
By gazing up lost both their head and eyes;
Russ.
Some thought the Island was a running round
No steady place of footing to be found,
For fear they run away and left the ground;
Fugitive Traytors.
That Roman Cannibals in furious mood,
Were coming to destory th' Protestants brood;
And Eat them all at once for want of food;
No man could safe on pillow lay down's head
As in full senate learnedly One said,
Least he might rise with's Throat cut in his Bed;
For as we are told by a deceas'd Esquire
In's Narratives of Massacres and Fire
How narrowly we scap't the Papists Ire:
That they had made the great Vesavian Hills
Into Fire-balls as small as Doctors Pills,
And secretly convey'd them o're in quills:
The Trayterous Jesuites, and their cursed backers,
Had made mount Aetna in Squibs and Crackers
To throw, and burn our Cloaths to Rags and Tatters.
All this was but a Tryal of my Skill
Like th' Exercise of Quixot and his Mill,
I was resolvd to do more wonders still;
Army under Ground.
I raised forty thousand of the Dead
Souldiers that from their camp last Age were fled
And fed them under ground with Ginger-bread;
Span. Pil.
Armies of Pilgrims I call'd out of Spain
Embarqu'd in a nut-shell safely on the Main
And in a trice convey'd them back again.
Don John.
I made a Prince that was of little stature
With half a word a tall and comely Creature,
My very breath chang'd in him every feature;
I rais'd up Gyges, robb'd him of his Ring,
And by that means converst with many a King
So secretly themselves knew not the thing;
I beg'd of Juno, Argus's head and eyes
To place abroad in Princes Courts for spyes,
So that I knew of every Enterprize;
I knew all mankind living on the Earth
Set private marks upon them at their birth,
Which caus'd amongst some people wondrous mirth;
Though now and then I bawkt by Candle light,
Pox on my senses, and my duller sight,
Could not discern a Squire from a Knight.
Coleman.
These and a Thousand other pretty pranks
I've play'd with men of all Degrees and Ranks,
For which I did expect some better thanks.
I little thought that this sweet Face of mine,
That looks so like a reverend grave Divine
Should come so soon through Iron Grates to shine,
I never dream't of such rewards as these
Whilst that I liv'd in Palaces of Ease
Sporting with my pritty Gammedes;
Nor did I think my Labours and my Toyles
Sould be rewarded in the common [...]ayles
'Twould make a Welch-man swear, guts plutter and nails.
But Oh; see what the destinies have brought to pass
That folkes at last should make me such and Ass,
As to keep Colt's with Otes, instead of grass;
I thought the Nation would have paid my score,
For a reward have thrown me something more
But now I see I am deceiv'd full sore.
As holy mussel men do count and write
Their great Hegira from their prophets flight,
When for Rebellion he was banish't quite;
So may I date my woes from that same day
My polish princely Patron run away
And left his his people in the mire and clay;
Shaft.
Why! did he not take me with him to dwell
When he embarqut for Holland and for Hell,
I ne're shall get there half so safe and well.
My mind long since presages dreadful things,
With tortured cryes my Ears already rings
And think each man some fatal Tidings brings,
My Tongue that never fail'd me yet, now falters,
I dream of nothing but of hemp and halters,
And frightful Visions, of the Rye-house Malters,
Methinks I see some of my Friends come o're
And becken to me from the Stygian Shore
All pale and wan and welter'd in their gore,
Methinks I see each Night stern vengeance stand
Over my head with naked Sword in hand,
Threatning eft soons to rid me of the Land.
Oft-times I dream of those bald gastly Pates
O'th Bridge, and Quarters o're the City Gates,
Pittying as 'twere my own, those poor mens fates
And then I fear, least the just fates decree
As a reward of my fidility,
The Doctor to adorn the Triple Tree:
But hang me Sirs if e're you catch me there.
When once I've brought my self into the snare
In verbo Sacerdotis I'll declare
The truth of all and every thing I knew,
Which will I'm sure make many men look blew;
Though I Ly'd Living, dying I'll speak True.
FINIS.