A CITIE-DOG IN A Saints Doublet: A missive to the Sage Common-Coun­cell-men of London, who now they can neither will nor chuse; are willing to have his Majestie to London.

To the Rebell City.

Strumpet disloyall to thy Soveraigns Throne,
Famous for thy base prostitution;
Thou hast not yet for thy vile loosnesse smarted,
But when the Bawdes at Westminster are carted,
Thou shalt be whipt, whipt till thy shoulders bleed,
Justice hath sworne it, Fates have so decreed.
Thou hast these seven years (base slut) and more
Been to each Iunto-man a common Whore;
And now thou seest thy Paramours must fall,
Their strength and stock being vaded, past recall,
Now to thy husband to whom thou wert wed,
Thou art in hope to be re-married;
He in the Isle of Wight though bolted in
By revelation, knowes thy cursed sin,
And is resolv'd nere more to bed with thee,
And so, though London was, yet York may bee.

Printed in the Yeare. 1648.

A City-Dog in a Saints Doublet.

WIth what Furies the Rebells were first inspi­red, and with what madnesse the Citizens of London were possessed, when they first mutu­ally covenanted to rebell against their most gracious King, is now obvious to all men, now that the vi­zor of their darke projections is pluckt off, and the deformi­ty of their intents pointed at by children; so that they can no longer deceive the Kingdome with shadowes, or feed them with painted meat, unlesse they run the hazard, (I meane both Junto and City) the one party to be haled out by the eares, and carted to Tyburne with violence; and the other to have their throats eut, and their houses fired about their eares, they are (temerity, and not loyalty, per­swading them thereto) contented, that their Babell be de­molished, and the stones and timber thereof swept into the Sea, least the children of Beliall that should fucceed, should imploy them a second time to the defacing of Gods glori­ous Worship, the nulling of the fundamentall and knowne Lawes of the Land, the overthrow of Monarchicall Go­vernment, (the lively representative of the Government a­mongst the Angells) and to the murthering, impoverishing and ruining of a free, and if not incens'd by Factionists, of themselves, a calme and quiet people, as by lamentable ex­perience hath been verified amongst us of the English Na­tion for these seven yeares.

For which thanks Isaac Pennington to thee,
And the rest of thy sweet Fraternitie:
Pim broacht the But of Wormwood, Brooks drew out,
And drank a health to Cromwell and his Snout;
To Essex and his branchers grown so high,
They bore up Cynthia, as she friskt i'th' skie:
To thee for ever nulling of the Lawes,
And to the happie thriving of the Cause,
To the confusion of all Discipline,
All ancient Orders Morall and Divine.
To the freedome of the brothers, and their Trubs,
The metamorphosing Pulpits into Tubs
For reverend Symkin, that reform'd Translator,
The Sisters and the Gospells propagater,
Who with the Toiler Wood-house, can with ease
Cut out a new Religion if he please,
To mount aloft, and there unto the Rabble
Pure non-sense, blasphemy, and treason babble:
For Wiggs the Vintner and his headman Fouch,
Who each day can a new Religion broach;
For Tate the Druggist, as he will to vary,
And Wilkins the divine Apothecary.
For M. Edge the Haberdasher Rock,
His journey-man to put on any block;
The Cutler Ask when Farrington is gone,
Can furbush o're a new Religion:
Needome the Dier, when he list to erre,
Can take Religion and new colour her;
So can Tomkins the Painter, but 'tis true,
His varnish makes her ugly unto view:
Fowler the Draper too takes a great pleasure,
Religion by his owne yard to measure;
So Finch the Mercer, but there's some do tell
The Scripture gives a yard, he takes an ell,
The Weaver Robinson whose beard doth bloome,
Can cast Religion upon any Loome.
Hoskins the Mariner while his braines doth rock
Can bring Religion into any Dock:
Carew the Barber, (not one like to him)
Can as he list Religion shave and trim.
The Gardner Elverton who's forc'd to hop
On wooden leggs, yet can Religion crop;
The Black-smith Day, most zealously doth urge,
And without fire can a Religion forge.
But to our matter, Brooks drank deep to all,
Who sought Religion, King, and Kingdomes fall:
Penington pledg'd him, and so lik'd the the cup
Of deadly Aconite he quaft it up;
Draw out apace quoth Brookes, wee'l now begin
Our Mask since we have drawn the City in;
Quoth Atkins, now let's aime above our reaches,
And then the first time he beshit his breeches:
Fairfax with fancies tickled, skip'd about,
For then he was not troubled with the Gout,
Though since the pockey humour seiz'd on him,
And now feeds on his bones in every limb.
The Fuckster Martin tripping on his toe
Mongst painted whores in his Seraglio,
When he heard of the thriving of the plot,
Cried now my Ducks wee'l have the tother pot,
And tother pleasant skirmish on the bed,
Since now my hopes cannot be Cuckolded:
Then all the reverent Ganders of the City,
Incorporated with the State-Committee,
Most zealous cock-braind, sottish, factious elves
Plotted the way how to undoe themselves,
Which soon they did contrive, and now would faine
Have Discipline and Orders once againe:
And Warners Worship hath pluckt out the sting,
And saith, he wisheth, that there were a King.

The clouds are dispelled, that have so long hover'd betwixt truth and the peoples eys, and they perceive that the great Law-making Court is quite metamorphosed to Polemicall Committees, and to a Councell of War, who seize on their lives and persons at their pleasures, & who no sooner hear that a man is rich, but he is made capable of death for his goods, who are so far from hearing, much lesse redressing the grievances of the people, that one may go from one Tropick to the other, and crosse the Equinoctiall twenty times ere a Petition tending to the peace of the Kingdome, can be taken into consideration; had the rebellious Devills at Westminster, & the deluded Factionists of the City confined the fire of Reformation in the funnell of the chimney, & appointed some to sweep down the foot, there needed not have been that shooting up of Muskets, whereby the whole house is in danger of burning. I confesse the common people will stil be common people, they will somtime or other shew what they are, and vent their instable passions, & I con­clude, that men wil be men while there is a world, & as long as the [Page]Moon hath an influxious power to make impressions upon their humors, they wil be ever greedy and covetous of novelties & mu­tation, I also very wel know, that Kingdomes, States & Cities & all bodies politike are subject to convulsions, to Calentures and Consumptions, as well as the fraile bodies of men, & must have an evacuation for their corrupt humors, & may perhaps be Phleboto­mized; but I would not have the embleme of innocence, the decent garment for the Ministery, called the Surplice, the unquestionable Book of Common-Prayer so perfectly agreeable unto the Word of God, and the same in effect which hath been for more then five hundred years in the Church of Christ, which hath been so hated by the severall Popes, & their Conclaves, & have been so esteemed of by the Martyrs, for instance, M. John Hallien fellow of Kings Col­ledge in Camebridge, who was Martyr'd in Q. Maries daies, Anno. 1557. & being at the stake amongst many other books that were throwne into the fire unto him, it hapned that the Common-Pray­er Book fell between his hands, which he joyfully receiving opened it and read till the smoke and flame suffered him not to read any more, & then he fell to Prayers holding his hands up to heaven, and the book between his arms next his heart, thanking God for that mercy in sending him it; I say, I would not have the Surplice so de­cent, the Common-Prayer Book so holy, & the other indifferent Ce­remonies of the Church, be the occasion of rebellious combustions, & blood-shed, to beat Religion into mens brains with a Poleax, is to offer victims of humane blood an acceptable service to Molech, but not to Messias: but as the excellent Tragedian Webster makes Francisco speak in his white Devill

Divinity wrested by some factious blood,
Drawes swords, swells battels, and destroyes all good.

Thus far permit me serious, now I shall come to my Cozens of the City a second time, & perhaps be too much sportive, ye fools & madmen who envied your own quiet, and like some of your light­heeld wives, when conceived of a — even longed for a mutation of your estates, you have been apt to rebell in all ages on all occa­sions, but your fore-fathers never mutinied on so slender grounds, as you have done, tell me my fine Wittolls, was it not better to have the Government of the Church by Archbishops and Bishops, then to have no Church at all? or at least, managed by those who know not how to write their names, preach printed Sermons, and who edifie none but your wives after bathings & Sack-possits. Was [Page]it not better to have a King to reign over you, whose clemency you had so ample experience of, who denied you no immunities re­quisite for you to ask, & convenient for him to grant, then to have a house full of Emperors, who sit from morn till night, and stretch their inventions upon the tenters how to bridle and saddle you, & not be kickt, & to screw money out of your purses, & not have you imagine they hoord it up for themselves, who have made you these seven years their Sumpter-horses to bear their coine, their staires on which they have ascended to the top of their hopes, (though now they have falne from top to bottome, so that their backs are broke) their Bawds, for it is well knowne that some of them have entred into your wives Closets, while you have been calling customers in­to your shops; are you there Mildmay? I meant not you Sir, for I know you hate lac'd mutton more then Martin doth a Curtezan, what need I tell you of M. Rogers his wife, since you so well know her already? my spruce Cits you must know, that Tom Fairfax hath the Gout, which will hinder his ascent unto a throne, & Nol Crom­well the iron Saint hath taken his progresse into the other world; Poyer hath given him his passe, so that if yours and the Juntoes cur­sed plot to poison his Majesty with a perfum'd suit of cloaths, or to mingle poison in his usual beveridge, had taken its wished effect, a hundred to one, but you had involved your selves in a new war about the Crowne, each thinking himself worthy to be a King.

Warner Ile warrant you, Would think it vaine,
To weild a Scepter, though he wear a chaine;
And reverend Atkins sure hath learnt mo [...]e wit,
For fear his royall garments he—.
Though Skippon stalk about with stately pace,
Yet sure the Mushrump hath attain'd more grace
Then for to wish a power over all,
'Tis best still to be Major-Generall
Of lice and fleas; to lead the boies about,
And with his staffe of office, bang the rout.
Or would you, have some Lord, whose worthy merit,
Bespeakes him fit Prince Charles to disinherit,
Las my Sord Say had rather still dispose
Affaires, and lead the faction by the nose,
Till he hath showne them Machavillian Play,
And brought them to the whirlpool of decay,
For Wharton, he would not be Soveraine,
For feare he fall into a pit againe;
Not like the Sawpit, into which he fell,
But one as may Mount Aetna parallel,
My Lord of Kent would sure scorne the motion,
Since to his guts he hath so much devotion
That his great belly goes beyond its verge,
And struts more then the tun at Heildeberge.
But would you have the man that rides the Moon,
Or he that's nought but name great Algernoon,
Alas he dares not for his Ribbon cracks
His George is broken and a—lacks,
Nor will the Sea-gull Warwick be a King,
Seeing the Seamen will have no such thing;
His Lordship hath no list to hunt for Crownes,
Since his crowne 'scap'd a cracking on the Downes.
For Denbigh he gapes when the plum will fall,
When Fairfax dies he must be Generall,
Although he wish the King were surely dead,
The onely meane that can keep on his head.

To conclude, ye Serpentine Cuckolds of the Common-Councel, & ye cuc­kolly Serpents of the City, now after all your Rebellions, Treasons & Impietie, after you have sold your selves to do mischief, abused God, King, Kingdome & your selves, bought & paid for your — Treacheries at the price of manie mil­lions, used all waies & means to take away Kingly Government, to kill your King & disinherit his posteritie, to set up a crew of Rebells and mechanicall Traytors in the manner of a State, who suck the heart bloods of the people, and esteem it their chief glorie to be cruell, impious and irreligious, after you have permitted the blood-hounds at Westminster, yea and backt them while they have murthe­red, Imprisoned and plundered all his Majesties loyall Servants and friends, I say after all this now that you see your Dagon State must fall before the Ark of the Lord his Anointed one, our dread Soveraigne Lord King Charles, now you are contented (since you can neither will nor chuse) that his Majesty be ad­mitted to London with honour, freedome, and safetie. O you Dogs in Saints Doublets, now you are verie tender of his Majesties Person, and are verie scru­pulous least his Prerogative be abridged: Curse upon you, do you imagine the Kings heart so flexible, that Iustice will permit him ere to look upon you with a gracious eye?

No you curs'd Cuckolds know your Charters gone,
Quite forfeited for your Rebellion;
And you shall be the Subject of each pen,
Characterizing you basest of men.
FINIS.

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