A pritty well drest Dish of Petites, cook'd at Westminster, with great charge at the cost of three Kingdomes: Also here are other Delicates, which may be well tasted and digested in the Pallats and P [...]nches of Royalists and Loyalists.
PRitty Parliament, has it voted?
Pritty Preachers have you throated,
Charles [...] [...]wne.
We hope e're long the time w [...] [...]
Your Donships shall receive your doome,
And the Devill his owne.
Pritty Ashburnham and Barkley,
If fame (of you) tell not a starke lye,
You make one Traytor
Betwixt you at least, and have out done;
The Devill and the Divells sonne
The Agitator.
Pritty Synod, do's it sit,
Voyde of grace as well of wit?
And make no Cannons;
But such as Ordinance are calld,
Which hath the very soules enthralld
of every Manon's.
Now from black Tom, and blacker Noll,
That kill and slay without controll,
Thereby to end us
From the Synods nonsence, and their Treason,
And from their Catechistick reason,
Good Heaven defend us.
Thankes to the Right Honourable, the Earle of Northumberland, for his late Vote in behalfe of his MAJESTY.
ALL Haile (brave Percy) once Great Admirall!
We thought thee a fix'd star till thou didst fall;
And [...]
[...]
Or dire revenge did through thee from thy Sphere.
And) of an Angell) make a Lucifer,
Till thou to bleating Warwick didst resigne
Thy Trident, thou wert th' Oceans God, and mine;
For till that time my [...] thoughts with thee
Committed serious Idolatry,
And my esteeme of thee, was then as high
As were thy merits, or thy dignity;
But thou wast Mortall Percy, and we finde
Tall Ceadars oft borne downe by populer winde
Thus (hurried with the crowd) thou didst withdraw,
(As the most did) thy Fealty, and Awe
From thy dear [...] Ma [...]ter, who to thine and thee
Shewd alwaies more of Love then Majesty:
Which doth improove thy guilt, and makes it far
More legible, in too great a Character;
But if thy conscience hath given thee the cheeck,
And Israel hath conquerd Amalec;
If God will not, thou shouldst be carried on,
I' the common nutry of damnation;
Welcome Blest Convert to thy King, and God!
Thy pardon's sign'd, if thou'lt but kisse the Rod,
Take these impressions then (my Lord) let none
Betray the Honour twice of Algernone:
Care not what poyson-whispering Say suggests,
Who (for his ends) both Law and Scripture wrests:
Who playes a most religious Devills part;
A Saint in speech, a Sathan in his heart:
An Hipocrite in graine, makes ill seeme well,
To whom old Nick, surnamed Machiavell,
Achitophell, or curst Iscariot,
These (paralleld with him) were each a sot,
Be deafe to that Damcc'd Siron, here permit
Him to your secrets, or soules Cabinet;
Be not affraid of that confused Yell,
Which belches out Rebellion, as Hell
Doth Surphurs: Nor dread th' usurped power
Can vote 3 Kingdomes ruine in one houre;
Care not for what they doe, or what they say
What Pembrooke, or your Brother Sarum Bray,
That fine wise Aker, who do's value more
His Akers then his honour, do's adore
Mammon for's God, or's King, though 'tis well knowne
What the Cecillians owe to Englands Crowne.
Be true to thy owne Charles, and by this feate
Make good thy true discent from Charles the Great;
Put on thy Loyall Robes, and we will Saint thee,
A Loyall Percy is not each dayes dainty.
The State of England, or Lilburnes Parliament.
WHEREIN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS ARE THE SVPREAME POWER.
THey the supreamest power (O how good John!)
Whence sprung this pritty new Dominion?
From revelation or from extasie,
This upstart mushrom foyst Supreamacie.
Call in the Heraulds (John) for ere we part,
I will rip up the bowels of their Art;
But I will know how, and when those Dawes,
Grew Masters of our King, our Lives, our Lawes.
Are they not English, Yes: Not Subjects, No?
Nay then I leave 'em Gentiles, yet not so.
Can a hoarse Cobler, or a Weavers Votes
Create you Kings? do Crownes grow in their throates?
(I wish they would in my purse) can they carry't
Upon the strength of Roast Biefe, and burnt Claret▪
If these two be th' ingredients of a King,
He eate him all my selfe, or Marriot bring.
A salutation to the Londoners.
THe City Lanthorne, quickly; I'de faine see,
Where is the Kings or Subjects Libertie;
The one in care, in Caresborough captiv'd,
The other tonguetide, manacled, and gyv'de
In sundry Prisons. O most rare and base!
This is the Parliaments especiall Grace.
Free men of London, 'tis a lye; ye're slaves
To Westminster, and (worse) to your owne knaves,
Which in the mother Saxon signifies
A Servant; so you all are Gregories:
And like to be so still, unlesse the feare
Of plunder (more then God) your soules do reare
Into a posture of defence; and rowse
Your craft-falne spirits; and cast off the drowze
And lethargie has seis'd you; O is night
So heavy on you, and this weight so light?
Do ye hugge your fetters, and court slaverie?
Then take them for your paines: tis fit that yee
Should Still be pleasd, the Cookes 'oth Parliament
Know well your Dyet; both what you resent
And what you like, but see they serve not in
(For the last dish) Damnation for your sin.
Has God (to pay your base and groundlesse feares)
Made Idols of you, not Idollaters?
You stand like statues all; you gape and mope,
As if you beg'd massacre, or the rope:
Which you (poore soules) had reason long to feare,
(Know you one Tompkins? and one Challoner?)
But is it not prodigious that one man
Should strike and drag this great Leviathan?
Speed him to Green-land quickly, or hee'l spoyle
The Towns whole store, both of the Ribs, and Oyle:
Thou bought'st thy slavery with thy coine and plate,
And shalt beg slavish bread from gate to gate,
Except thou stand up bravely and prevent it,
You and your Heires forever will repent it;
You shall be common Rogues, and know no King
That might protect you from a ruining;
You have been Parliament all Hackney Naggs,
Treason hath been supported by your baggs,
Knaves, Fooles, and Mad men, that so swift did run
To mischiefe, and desir'd to be undone;
Yet for all this take courage, now's the time,
Alleagiance expiates all former crime,
Be wise and Loyall now, or else thy doome
Is fixd in Heaven, this thy day is come.
Shelton Iunior, or the second part of Collin Cloute, a warning peice to the City of London.
O Cives, Cives, looke well to your Wives,
And to your God Mammon,
Or he that rules Hammond
And all England to boot,
Will shortly put you to't,
And for all you great brags
He will crumble your baggs,
And for all your great hopes
Will plunder your shops,
And make a new faire
Of pure London ware,
And of the Religion
Will make a meere Widgion;
Then poore Jack Presbyter
Must fall with the Miter:
And in the conclusion
Cry welcome confusion.
A Prophesie.
VVHen Mounseir Noll, that Passe Partout
Shall mount his Passe Vent,
Attended with his Rebell Rout,
Then London shall be shent.
A Prayer for all Lay-Elders.
LET them be grave, and sollid, as are blocks,
And let them take Nonsence for Orthodox;
Let jealousies possesse them day and night,
Let them be heavy, and their Wives be light;
O let there alway Sects and brabling be
To Vex and trouble the Presbytery:
Let all their sons (at one and twenty yeeres)
Prove arrant fooles, and have extended eares,
As large as Ceres ever gave to Cornes,
And be more noted then their Fathers hornes;
O let no sparke of modesty be scene
In any of their Daughters at foreteene;
But let the threshold of their Fathers doore
Be evermore bestriden with a Whoore,
And least (there should want Vice) to correct all,
Let all their Families to lewdnesse fall
And let them all appeare before the King
Receive their sentence, face about and swing.
A Prayer for our Friends at Westminster.
YOU Mountebanks of State, long may you live
To take such Physick as your selves did give;
May you have war, and may the sword destroy
Your Families, and may you ne're enjoy
The benefits of Peace; ma' ye feele the Rod
And till y' have peace with'e King, have none with God.
FINIS.