A strange Sight to be seen at Westminster.

Within this House is to be seen
Such a Monster as hath not been
At any time in England, nay
In Europe, Affrick, Asia:
'Tis a round body without a head
Almost these three yeares, yet not dead.
'Tis like that beast I once did see
Whose tail stood where the head should be:
And (which was never knowne before)
Though't want a head, it has horns good store
It has very little hair, and yet
(You'l say) it has far more hair then wit:
'Thas may eyes and many ears,
'Tis full of jealosies and fears;
'Thas many mouthes, and many hands,
'Tis full of questions and commands;
'Tis arm'd with muskets, pikes, it fears
Nought in the world, but Cavaliers.
'Twas born in England, but begot
Betwix [...] the English and the Scot;
Though some are of opinion [...]ather
That the Divell was its father;
And the City (which is worse)
Was its mother, and its nurse.
Some say (though perhaps in scorne)
That it was a Cretian borne;
But not unlike, for it has the fashion
Just as may be of that Nation;
For tis a liar, none o'th least,
A slow belly, an evill beast;
Of what Religion none can tell,
It much resembles that in hell:
Some say it is a Jew disguis'd,
And why? because tis circumcis'd;
For't was deprived long ago
Of many a Member we all know.
In some points▪ is a Jesuited Priest,
In some it is a Calvinist;
For tis not justifi'd (it saith)
By good works, but Publick Faith.
Some c [...]l't an Anabaptist, some
Thinke now that Antichrist is come.
'Tis a creature of an uncouth kinde
Both for its body and its minde;
Make haste to see't, or'twill be gon,
For now tis sick, and drawing on.

The State Mountebanke.

IF any body-politique
Of plenty, or of peace be sick,
Ther's a Physitian come to Towne
Of far stretcht fame, and high renown;
Though cal'd a Mountebanke, 'tis ment
(Both words being French) a Parliament.
Who from Geneva, and Amsterdam,
From Germany and Scotland came;
Now lies in London, but the place
(If men say true) is in his face.
His Scaffold stands on Tower hill,
Where he on Strafford tri'd his skill;
Off went his head, you'l thinke him slain,
But straight 'twas voted on again.
Diurnals are his weekly bils
Which shew how many he cures and kils;
But of th'Errata wee'l advise,
For cure read kill, for truth read lies.
If any Traitor be diseas'd
With a sore neck, and would be eas'd,
Here is a pill he cals a Vote,
Take it extempore, 'twill do't.
If any conscience be too strict,
Here's severall bils from Lectures pickt,
Which swallow'd down, will stretch it full
As far as 'tis from hence to Hul.
Is any by Religion bound,
Or Law? and would be looser found,
Here is a Glyster which we call
His priviledge o're topping all.
Is any mony left or plate,
Or goods? bring't in at any rate;
Hee'l melt three shillings into one,
And in a minute leave you none.
Here's powder to inspire your lungs,
Here's water that unties your tongues;
(Spite of he Law) 'twill set you free,
To speake reason only lispingly.
Here's Leetches, which if well appli'd,
And fed, stick closely to your side,
Till your superfluous blood de [...]ay,
Then they will breake and drop away.
But here's a soveraigne Antidote
(Be sure your Soveraigne never know't)
Apply it as your Doctor pleases,
'Twill cure all wounds, and all diseases.
A drug none (but himselfe e're saw.
'Tis cal'd a Fundamental Law.
Here's glasses to delude the sight,
Darke lanthornes, here bastard light;
This (if you conquer) trebles men,
(If lose▪ an hundred seems but ten.
Here's Opium to lull asleep,
And herely dangerous plots in steep.
Here stands the safety of the City,
There hangs the invisible Committee.
Plundring's the new Philosophers stone,
Turns wares to gold, and gold to none.
And here's an Ordinance that shall
At one full shot enrich us all.
He's skilled in the Mathematicks,
And with his circles can do tricks,
By raising spirits that can smell
Plots that are hatcht as deep as Hel;
Which only to themselves are known,
(The Divel's ever kind to's owne.)
All this he gratis doth, and saith
Hee'l only take the Publick faith.
Flock to him then, make no delay,
The next fair winde he must away.

Oxford, Printed for Wil. Web. 1643.

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