OUT-CRIE OF THE OF THE KINGS AT WESTMINSTER: or, the Junto who call themselves a PARLIAMENT.

For their Lamentable banging at Colchester, and the Havock made of their Sainted Army there, Conducted, by the gowty Rebel Tom Fairfax, by the gallant Royallists under the command of the Right Honourable the Earle of Norwich, and the most valiant Sir Charles Lucas:

As also, For the routing of Lambert in the North, the Revolt of the Navie, the losse of Pontfract-Castle, and for the good affections of their Soveraigne.

TO KING GOWTY-LIES.

And art thou lame, what pocky Rheume durst ceaze,
On thy great Excellence, the French disease:
Was sure too sawcie, thy Rebellious lookes,
Frights more then Cromwels nose, all plannet struck;
Stand trembling at thy words, and yet though thus,
All could not stagger Morbus Gallicus:
Howle out thy Soul in pain, prevent the ill,
Must else fall on thee, by the hangmans skill:
Vnlesse the Queen of Chance, so love thy Good,
That Goring now in Essex, let thee blood;
Hee hath protested to his Loyall Rout,
Ere many dayes to cure thee of the gowt:
Meane time (good Sir) thou dost not halt alone,
The masters of the Dam'd Rebellion:
Goe, limping toe. Fate hath [...]a [...]e off their edge,
And nothing wants, but halter, Fire, and sledge.
M. M.

Printed in the year. 1648.

[...]

THE OUT-CRY OF THE KINGS AT WESTMINSTER, or, the Junto, who call themselves a PARLIAMENT.
Their first Complaint.

When we had Fortune in a string,
And all at our command:
Close prisoner, clapt up our King,
Growne great by Sea and Land.
When all men follow'd Cromwels Nose,
When wee had gull'd our Nation:
And quite subdu'd our Royall Foes,
With I [...]kies approbation.
When as the People seem'd content,
We on their backs should ride:
An Everlasting Parliament,
Even at the height of pride.
When we had cast to kill our King,
By poyson, in his meat:
Then Osburne did find out the thing,
And England saw, a cheat.

MOst venerable Rabbies, of the Synod, to you we turne our selves, now in our extremity you that are the Pulpit drum­mers of the times, and by whose perswasion, we first ingaged a­gainst [Page 2] our Soveraign Lord, you that have proved by divine Sylo­gismes, that St. Peters counsell to fear God, and obey the King, is Apocripha, and that S. Pauls advice willing us to submit upon pain of Damnation, is meerly a fallacious Assertion.

No curst Rebellion ever yet tooke wings,
To assail the Person & the State of Kings:
But it deriv'd its current from the gown,
And made its fatall exit, with the clown:
Gouge, vnto thee, to Marshall, and to Nie,
Wee owe the hatching of our Treachery:
Most holy Dragons, Devils clad with light,
You first divulg'd the Plot, of Hell, and night:
Curst in your mothers wombes, the Bishops fate,
Your vile transactions will obliterate:
Perjurd you are, the Bishops Cap and hood,
Have not been torn by you, though dide in blood
Those decent ornaments, preserved are,
When they assume their states, again to wear:
Was it indeed, that you Cride order downe,
To play at free-ball with the staffe and crown;
That so while as our English Machine cracks,
You each may bear six Steeples on your backs:
Have you turn'd absolution out of Dores,
That so you onely may absolve your whores:
We have made use of you as desperate men,
Ʋse person and return to dust agen:
Our own Rebellious courses, now we rue,
We must taste vengeance so we wish may you.

The preposterousnesse of Fate, was ever Rebellion in more thri­ving course, then under our management, have we not tooke a­way the fundamentall Lawes of our Land, root and branch, have wee not forced a single Ordinance, as if a Statute, have we not ta­ken away all order and discipline in the Church, and that the peo­ple might loose the fear of God, and obedience to their King at once have countenanced a Generall tolleration have we not cea­zed on all our Kings revenew, his ships at sea, and his Militia by land, have we not a chosen Army whom we keep up on purpose [Page 3] to overaw the people to plunder their goods (and if we com­mand) to kill their person at our pleasure, have we not our spies in each corner of the land, & more especially in London to whom we allow annual stipends whose taske it is, to intrude themselves into all customes, and to insinuate into mens favour that so they may with more facility, learn their dispositions and resolutions, that so we may be informed thereof, and if we know them Loyall, to murther them, or starve them in prison, as we did lately to Sir Thomas Shirley whom we sent prisoner to S. Peter, without so much as telling him for what, as also to Sir Thomas Cooper, who hath since escaped our hands, have wee not so impoverished the people by our plunderings and taxes, that they are not so much as in a possibility of resistance, have wee not inur'd them so to bondage, that they are as pliable to our commands as the tand gally-slave to his oate, have we not clapt up our King close pri­soner in the Isle of Wight, and can we not murther him there at our pleasures, are wee not now a Free an absolute State, our selves Kings, and the King uselesse are wee not.

Melancholicus
— most seditious wicked Devils,
Traytors who act the very worst of evils:
Whose best of Faith is [...]el [...] breach of trust
Whose zeale serves onely for to he [...]t your lust:
Lay now aside your boasts, and if there be,
Left in your breasts so much Christianity:
Betake you to your prayers, your Kingdomes gon,
And CHARLS must once more fill his Royall throne:
Three Royall Armies war likely array'd,
Come bravely on, with banners broad displayd: FIGHT,
Whose mottoe's this THE CAVSE FOR WHICH WE
IS FOR OVR GOD OVR KING AND CHVRCHES RIGHT:
Though you despight of heaven still goe on,
And still abet, your vile Rebellion,
Yet know and be not blinded, Essex men,
Will have your heads, and eke their King agen:
The Earl of Norwich, Canel, Campion,
Lunsford, Ga [...]eoigne, Many, Washington,
Villiers, Th [...]hill, Culpepper, Liste, and
The rest, that now brave Colchester command,
Have lately bang'd Tom gowty leggs, yea so
He never shall, get strength again to goe.
The noble LVCAS, lately sallied out,
And put the blood-bounds to a totall Rout:
And since hath stuffe two Churches, with the Saints,
Who fill the ecchoing wals, with loud complaints,
Hath tane 7 Peice of Ordnance, next you'l hear,
Your Army's left, and to adde to your feare,
Lambert is soundly beaten, Langdale's Forte,
Hath routed all his Army foot and horse,
From all points of the Compasse, now come on
Your miseries, and your destruction,
Inevitable is, where's your Navy?
Fall Traytors on the Land, the Sea can't save yea.
All loyall Soules, now joyne, one hand, one heart,
'Tis that alone, these Rebels must subvert.

They proceed in their Out-cry.

The Army before Colchester rowted, the Scots now in England, Lambert put to the worst by Langdale, the Navie revolted, and the whole Kingdome rising upon us, the Son of our wronged Sove­raign, dayly expected with an Army against us, which way, whi­ther shall we runne, will the People bee no longer cheated with shewes, nor deluded with Chimeras, money we have store, but what doth that availe us, must we make those our heires, whose wealth was their own, ere we extorted it, doth both heaven & earth conspire our ruine, but must we fall so speedily, the Tame Ani­mals of the City resolve to support us to the last, O lack Hall, Jack Hall, straine this invention to the highest pitch, let blasphe­my and Treason both commix, thou shalt not want, either thy selfe or pander, write any thing good Jack, now thou hast entred Covenant with us, thou must resolve with us to fall or rise, if the Royall-party prevaile.

Ah tum te miserum, malique Fati
Quem atractis pedi [...]s, prarente porta
Percurrunt maligelesque, raphanique.
Ah thee thee wretched of accursed Par [...],
Whom Fish wives, Red fish wives of base estate.
Shall scoffe and trample on the open gate.

O Lillie, Lille, thou that canst command the stars to move, according to the composure o thy fingers, thou that canst cloath the dead Saints with flesh and mak'st the Furits of Barathrum to tremble at thy summons, thou that imploy'd the winged Spirits of the Ayre, to performe thy frequent Em [...] [...]ffa [...]s, thou that hast shoulder'd up our greatnesse hitherto, and perswaded the people into a good opinion of us, for the allowance to 1 per annum, and a share of all eminent Thanksgiving Dinners, why didst not thou forsee, this great unlookt for unlucky change, thou prognostica­tedst peace and tranquility, a happy event to crown all our under­takings, and that wee should prove the most glorious villaines, that ever were, now we find Wharton, is a true Prophet, and that his predictions, are ratified above, his 28 of Iune is come, and destruction dogs us like our Destinie, ô Booker, Booker, did not thy great head harbour one conceit for the security, could thy Chri­solite which thou stolest, shew thee nothing, when thou compilest thy last bumbasted Almanack, our Prophets are planet struck, and our Deviners mad; ô Weaver, what a web have we now upon the Loome, ô Wild, how wildly have we rambled to our ruine, ô Corbet what will become of thy smokey visinemir, which the Cava­liers have threatned to sowse and caribnado, and then send it as an hoggsface to Pluto, for him to feast the Fiends withall, ô Scot, what will now bee thy Lot; ô Warner, wee sorrow for thee ex­treamly, for the Roguing Apprentices, will now have an oppor­tunity to performe their vowes, and to naile thy leather eares, to the door post of thine own house; ô Lenthall, our flippant speaker. who hast spake so well for us this seaven yeares, and so dexterous­ly, hast pleaded thy own cause, that thou art now master of many millions of money, all which we hope (as forseeing this storme) thou hast convei'd to some forraign land; ô Challenor, what will become of thee, and thy wall eyes, ô Rolles, how are we rowling down the hill on the suddaine, who some few moneths since, sat tryumphing on the top of Fortunes wheele; ô Marten, thou were wise, and gotst thy selfe with thy leash of curtezans into a place [Page 6] of strength, where thou mayest remain with safety, till thy house be fired about thee, thy eares, and thy head sent for a present to the King: whereas we are bare breasted, and stand as marks for the intensed people to shoot at ô Tom Fairfax what will become of thee, when thy gowty legs shall be chopt off, with thy head, and armes and the Cavaliers kick thee up and down Westminster, as a football, ô Nol, Nol, what will become of thy Nese, if thou beest yet mortall, which the Cavaliers will cut off, and fix it for a Reacon, on highgate-hill, oh, oh our Desteny:

Melancholicus,
— doth haunt you, and the iron hand of love,
Will crush you into ayre, in vaine you strove,
To force the thunderers arm, back to his thie,
By voting home King Charles, and so to trie,
The peoples temper, if their madnesse great,
Would have accepted, of this second cheat:
Most holy Statel-men, blest Reformers, you
To whom all possible applause is due,
Why should you fear, if sacred Innocence,
Doe guard you, fear not humane violence,
But see then countenances, doe declare,
That they of horrid Treason; guilty are,
Guilty of blood, of cruelties and horrors,
Drencht deep in Sin, chief authors of our terrors:
What will you doe, or whether will you run,
Your most inevitable Fate to shun,
They are ama'zd, fall then, as in a trance,
For on your bodies, Loyalty must Dance.

Since we must fall, let us with our weight sinke the whole na­tion:

It made Deucalion, willing for to die,
When he had all the world, in company,

Let CHARLS be first be made away, by poyson, or secretly stran­gled, that we may be reveng'd before we die, but see where the Ghosts of Strafford, Laud, Tomkins, Challoner, Bourcher, Bur­leigh, and an infinite number of other Innocents whom we cru­elly murdred, stand waiting to drag us into Phlegeton.

Wee come, wee come, having receiv'd our hire,
On earth, to plunge in hell, in liquid fire.
FINIS.

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