News from Parnassus, in the abstracts and contents of three crown'd chronicles, relating to the three kingdoms of England, Scotland and Ireland. In a poem, divided into two parts : first, to the king, secondly, to the subjects of the said three kingdoms. Dedicated to His Majesty. / By a servant to Mars, and a lover of the muses, William Mercer.

NEWS FROM PARNASSUS, In the Abſtracts and Contents of three Crown'd Chronicles, relating to the three Kingdoms of England, Scotland and Ireland.

IN A POEM, Divided into Two Parts: Firſt, To the KING, Secondly, To the Subjects of the ſaid Three Kingdoms.

Dedicated to his Majeſty.

By a Serv ••• to Mars, and a Lover of the Muſes, WILLIAM MERCER.

Sunt mala, ſunt quaedam mediocria, ſunt bona plura.

London, Printed by M. W. for the Author, 1682.

TO THE Majeſty of GREAT BRITAIN, FRANCE and IRELAND, CHARLES STUART, ANAGRAMS. I Charles Stuart. Anagrams 1. A Cleart he'rt is ſur' 2. T ſerv Chriſt at al 3. I al truſt has Care 4. I cure all hurt hearts. Carolus Stuart. Anagram 5. At tu ros Clarus. Charles Stewart, King. Anagram 6. Sucking as real truth. Carolus Secundus, Angliae, Scotiae, & Hiberniae, Re▪ Anagram 7. Ave▪ ſinus longae arboris huic leni dexter eſt. I Charles Rex. Anagram 8. I he 'xcels rare. Scotland's King. Anagram 9. Scots kind Angel. Charles Stuart. Anagram 10. Rule Chaſt Star.

A Paraphraſe on the Anagrams, in two Parts. The Argument. TEN Anagrams united, now agree; Which when you know, fall down upon your knee: Adore the King with works of Loyal wonder, Whoſe Anagrams agree ſo, ſet aſunder. But Knaves combine, albeit they can be wrackt, As will appear, peruſing this Abſtract. O! if men might conſider ſeriouſly What is ſaid here, by ſuch an one as I; For when the Ark is open'd once, then they Will wiſh the Hills heap'd on their heads that day.

The Firſt Part. THough ſeven were ſet, three more I dar'd to do, And then contriv'd King Charles Acroſtick too: Three more make ten, and draws the door to Loke, Paying my precious Prince both Tythe and Stoke. Seven Anagrams I ſay, add three, and then Three ſet to ſeven, make very truly ten. I Charles Rex, and Scots natural King, Whence theſe two Anagrams, truly too, I bring 1. I he 'xcels rare, and 2. Scots kind Angel, None give ſuch Anagrams in the whole Evangel; No Kings name neither, but Charles Rex ſhew theſe I he 'xcels rare; unparallel'd in Praiſe; Then in this Title of Scotlands King, I do This Anagram alſo, Scots kind Angel too: And all the reſt, preſs whenſoe're you pleaſe, You get not nine ſuch Anagrams as theſe: Kind Angel coming down daily from above, Makes Trinity in Unity, live in Love. An Example alſo flows forth of the ſame, Thus from King Charles his glorious diadem. Whence one in three, and three in one now I Do bind, but bring no blot of Blaſphemy: Nor do I neither raſhly run on Rocks, My Doctrine's duly render'd Orthodox: Scotland's King's England's King, and his Throne Owns Ireland alſo; now there's three in one. So Trinity, in ſuch a ſacred ſenſe Acts Unity, without a falſe offence. Nine Anagrams ſo united, now do ſtand, And all are at one Gracious Kings command. Charles Stuart, ſto •• King; one of the ten too are His Anagram, and that's this, Rule Chaſt Star. Still rule, Chaſt Star, and all your days adorn, As did the Star that day that you were born. Which deckt that day; a very ſacred ſign, A Star at noon, beſide the Sun to ſhine. Wherefore with theſe ſigns in your Arms that are, Roſe, Thiſtle, Luce, Harp, there alſo ſtands the Star: All which Signs ſhew us that our Soveraign muſt, As he is Sacred, be ſo ſerved Juſt. For Kings are Gods, the Sacred Pſalmiſt ſays, Though Death, their Deity, daily diſobeys: And I ſay alſo, only this for that, This being all I'm always aiming at, King Charles is Chriſt's Anointed, no leſs now Anointed and United alſo too. Wherefore whom God doth doubtleſs ſo combine, At ſuch no Subject ſhould dare to repine: For being Gods Vice-gerent, and ſo Juſt, Bound to Obedience all men meekly muſt: I ſay, even muſt, and muſt as truly too Do what ſuch good King bid us daily do. So all is ſaid, which I profeſt before, Even to a tittle, till I can ſay no more. But for my fault, prophaning of ſo high A name as doth demonſtrate Majeſty, And put in Print my pratling thereupon, So nigh the Scepter, and my Soveraigns Throne, Deſerves Death; but before I do condemn My ſelf, if I can humbly touch the hem Which hath the Honour as to be about Your Sacred ſelf, albe't it be without, I can implore, and humbly proſtrate lye Before your Foot-ſtool, if I dye I dye. But Caeſar ſeldome was offended, when A Souldiers faults flow'd from affection, then He ſmil'd, and ſaid, let him not from me fly Till I relieve him for his Loyalty. Poets are priviledg'd to put rags in Rhime, When they in Proſe cannot proclaim a Crime: So I, Great Sir, Swear you in Rhime, read what Knaves are in your three Kingdoms aiming at: For not embracing Bribes for to forbear (Though I'm abſtruſe in this my Abſtract here) My Chronicle ſhall every caſe diſcloſe, Not ſparing Friends more than I favour Foes. But I conclude, becauſe I'm not Scholaſtick; For to the King to conſtitute this Acroſtick, Offends: wherefore to cure all diſcontents, I truſt King Charles's grains of Ingredients. Now having on the Anagrams play'd ſo plain, Receive this Sonnet of our Soveraign.

Acroſtick. Can Art and Nature, in a Muſe like mine, Heaven not inſpiring ſpecial pow'r divine, Attain unto a Princes parts ſo high, Reigning and Ruling ſo Religiouſly? Lo England only, more than Europe ever Eſtabliſh's Trophies t'be aboliſht never. Surely our Soveraign's covered with a Crown. So three Crowns crave of Carolus Rex renown, Triumphant Arches, Statues Crown'd with Bays, Unſtain'd, as ſtreams of Phoebus faireſt Rays. All his Atchievements, Choice, mauger thoſe that dare Rebel; but if? then they as early are Trod under foot. Triumphing awful Arms, With help from Heav'n, keep good K. Charles from harms

The Second Part. I Charles Stuart. Anagram 1. A cleart he'rt is ſur' 2. T' ſerv' Chriſt at al 3. Al truſt has Care 4. I cure al hurt harts. A Cleart heart is ſure t' ſerve Chriſt at all hours. Theſe Anagrams and Attributes are ours, Saith good King Charles, whoſe Vertues weigh not far From what King Solomon's, and juſt King Joſhua's are: Then let all Subjects ſee his Sacred Throne Eſtabliſh'd ſtill in his Succeſſion. Al truſt has Care, when Subjects it receives: Kings care not much till Truſties turn to Knaves. Al truſt has Care, which when I well conſtrue, And on you caſt it, Subjects ſhould be true. Such Skill exceeds all Sciences and Arts, King Charles ſaith truly, I cure all hurt: harts: As he is King, his Faith yet fail'd him never, His Sacred Touch hath cur'd one evil ever. I truſt all Cares, ſaith King, and uſe all Arts, I Cure all hurts that harbour in your hearts. And though my ſelf lye by Betheſda ſure, My Soveraign Maſter can command my Cure. Carolus Stuart. Anagram At tu ros Clarus.

A Religious roundel upon this Latin Anagram.

AT tu ros Clarus, we know can cleanſe us clear, Should the Devil outdare us, At tu ros Clarus, His Malice could not mar us, though our ſpots appear, At tu ros Clarus, we know, can cleanſe us clear.

The Anagram Engliſhed.

But thou clear dew. Words of ſuch worth, albeit but few, When beſt men bad have been, What ſtains can Satan on them ſtrew, But thou clear dew, canſt clean? Charles Stewart, King. Anagram Sucking as real truth. SƲcking as real truth in Streams From his Queen Mothers Breaſt, As it is true, that ſucking ſeems For new-born Babies beſt. Becauſe ſome Reader ſuddenly may cenſure My roundel, I dare, as a deſperate Fencer Defend, from them that's ſo purſuing me, As in theſe Lines enſuing, you may ſee. Even ſo, ſince one word will the wrath provoke, Theſe few Lines following ſhall gain-ſtand the ſtroke. This Anagram goes high, with a Sacred Wing, In which I thus attribute to the King. Great men (almoſt) of Kings great values want, And yet (in Scripture) are call'd Gods, you'll grant. Then take my ſayings in ſuch ſenſe, and I Shall not be cenſur'd ſaying Blaſphemy: For ſuch Expreſſions from Parnaſſus Pen Prove not profane, but only amongſt men. Nor doth the thing in order ſeem ſo odd, Becauſe the King doth govern as a God.

On the Anagrams in General. Or add, or alter, or leave out one Letter, I may, to make the Anagram the better: And if you ſay my hand in it doth hault, Make one, I'll wager you fall in the fault. For this affords my freedom in the thing, Cum Privilegio, it is for the King. Though all theſe Anagrams I with care contrive, The ſixth ſuck'd real truth to confirm the five. I ſaid I left my Latin at the School, But I did lye, I loſt it like a Fool: For when I on this Anagram did fall I found but theſe four Latin words at all, Which I with gladneſs gave (indeed) for fear My Latin fail'd, left them in Engliſh here, But thou clear dew. Upon Parnaſſus Mount this morning I ſaw the Sacred nine adorning Themſelves; ſo I implor'd their Power But to inſpire my Pen one hour, To humour it: They ask'd in what? And promis'd when I told them, that They would aſſiſt; and ſo ſhould be My Judges, do what's fit for me: I told them this was almoſt all My fault, whether I ſtand or fall, Seven Anagrams I granted I Had made upon his Majeſty, And ſaw each Syllable of the ſame Within my Soveraign's Sacred Name; As alſo wherein every one Allude unto his Royal Throne: And thought the things would better be If they but blew their breath on me. Saying, ſhould they diſplay their Banner, The meaning muſt exceed the manner. Though words would ſhew but weak inventions, In ſome things there lye ſtrong intentions. Four of them ſure the ſame in ſence, Almoſt of equal conſequence: The fifth is eaſie to be ſeen, A dew divine that waſheth clean: Which lyes in Latin, I alledge, Expreſſing Princely Priviledge. But though it lyes in Latin now, I turn't in Engliſh unto you. Becauſe I am no Book-bred Bard, I play beſt with the plaineſt Card. The ſixth, much more than all the other, Suckt real truth from his Queen-Mother. And if you ask how a King became The Author of this Anagram: No name but it can Parallel, Unleſs you will ſome Treaſon tell; For each ſo eaſily allude To him of whom they're underſtood, That I ſhall only ſay, but ſo, Naming another, I'll ſay no. God gave theſe goodly attributes T' our Soveraign, whom ſuch only ſutes: And him allow'd that name by lot, In which theſe Anagrams are got: Yea, I will live and dye your debter, If in the name you find one Letter, But in the Anagram I ingrave; And you are ty'd too to receive What I ſo duly do ſet down To deck our Soveraigns Sacred Crown. My Theme's ſo eaſie, though my skill be ſcarce, I could on it make multitudes of Verſe. But though men may in wide ways walk at will, I think 'tis beſt for tyr'd men to ſit ſtill.

A Paraphraſe upon this Anagram But thou clear dew. A Subjects Name, by Nature now's All full of faults, I ſay, But thou clear dew, thy ſelf allows, To waſh the ſame away. Five Anagrams I found before, Which ſo concerns the Throne, That I ſhall move on them no more, But let theſe five alone; The which, when in effect I found The ſenſe to be the ſame, The ſixth by Letters I collect Out of the Latin Name. No Subjects Name muſt make my Theam One that's above muſt be, It is my Soveraigns Sacred Name, Carolus Stuart's ſelf you ſee: Which in effect, I found my Muſe So freely to unfold, Praxiteles could not refuſe It to Engrave in Gold. Though, I confeſs when I was young, And very void of Wit, And though I now ſeem ſomething ſtrong, Am not much mended yet: For what I gain'd, I then forgot, And ſo ſuch Fool became, Though other Lines I learned not, I gain'd this Anagram; The which, as I have ſaid before, It doth it ſelf allow To play the game, ſo clear a ſtream of Dew hath done it now. But in regard a Subject ſhould One ſo Divine, adore, I'll move (by making Anagrams) My Monarch's name no more. Upon White-hall, and over all, Expos'd to publick view, Unto our Soveraign only ſhall But thou clear dew, be due: Be only due, I ſay indeed, So much (for this) the rather, His Royal Name doth now proceed From his moſt famous Father.

Carlous Secundus, Angliae, Scotiae & Hiberniae, Rex. Anagramma Avé ſinus longae arboris Ecc' huic leni Dexter eſt. Cúr Leni eſt Dexter Regi ſinus arboris altae Exprimit hunc Senſum Nominis Ecc' tenor. NOw thoſe that think this Anagram not good, Muſt ſtudy until the ſtrain be underſtood, Becauſe the Name, which I preſume to make My Theme, is more than men may undertake, Kings Names are nice; likewiſe no leſs than ſuch Uncircumciſed Subjects muſt not much Come nigh them; nor their breath let blow thereon. Carolus Stuart demonstrates me a Throne. Dare not divide the Letters as they lye; An Anagram muſt not maſſacre Majeſty. My eyes ſtood ſtaring, when I long'd to look, Then fell aſleep; my ſenſes me forſook: For lo, what Latin I laid up at School, It prov'd not proſperous, having plaid the Fool: For when to Court, with my conceits I came, I ſcarce could offer up this Anagram; I dream'd it, and when I awak'd, I vow, I could not tell if it was falſe or true: Nor did I alter one word of the thing, But drew it, as I dream'd it, next morning. Even ſo, I thought, it could not be call'd Treaſon, But that it was much rather Rhime and Reaſon. Being ſure my Soveraign takes the Subjects thought (When he proves Loyal) as the work were wrought. And then for to prevent the Carpers quarrel, I rather render'd than oppos'd the peril: Saying, He that thinks my ſtories are abſtruſe, May mend them; but, I fear, my Friends refuſe. Great Sir, I think you ſee in every Anagram How faithful and effectual too, I am. I do not tell, but I do ſtoutly ſtand, And plainly ſpell firſt, E. N. G. L. and S. C. O. T. L. A. N. D, and lo Draw I. R. E. L. A. N. D even ſo. Then read my Rhime, ſo may your Majeſty Mark men in much diſſimulation lye. Let them dye.

Anagrams on his Royal Highneſs (th • Duke of York's Name) James Stewart. MAny make Stewart with a Double VV, And many make Stuart with a ſingle too: Which when I ſaw that both the ways were beſt, On each of them two Anagrams I expreſt. James Stewart. Anagrams 1. A Wiſe Maſter. 2. Aimes at Vertues. James Stuart. Anagrams 1. As I am trueſt. 2. Truſt me as I am. A Wiſe Maſter aims at Vertues, then ſince, As I am trueſt, truſt me as I am, a Prince: Your Ancient Acts ſay I from God alone Derive the right of my Succeſſion. Which being ſo As I am trueſt, and (as Chriſt) I came From God alone, then truſt me as I am: As I am trueſt, none denies but I Am Lawful Brother to his Majeſty: On which account in confidence I came Truſting to you, then truſt me as I am. My aim's at Vertues, even as I am true, So you may truſt me as I am to you. My aim's at Vertues all the ways I work, And I am call'd Juſt James the Duke of York. Theſe Anagrams are by the Art of Nature, Not only, but by our Divine Creature Contriv'd; then truſt me as I am, for I Acknowledge Scotland's Love and Loyalty. No Power can preſs me, ſhould it prove ſupream To deviate from the dictates of my Name. • eing bound by Nature, no man muſt ſay no, • o love the Nation and its Subjects ſo: • hen truly, Truſt me as I am, and I, 〈◊〉 I am true, in your defence ſhall dye: 〈◊〉 which I know no Kingdom can correct me, • ecauſe our Act of Parliament doth protect me. Reader. York's inniate Name no Anagram gives me So true as theſe four, pray you try and ſee: Whence ſince the ſame ſo Aims at Vertues, I Allude unto Jacobus Rex Righteouſly. They run ſo ready, that I none can raiſe So pertinent upon the point as theſe: Becauſe our Soveraigns Grandſire on the Throne, Acknowledged this Royal Name his own. The rather too 'tis of ſuch Sacred ſeaſon, The Parliament proclaim'd it to be Treaſon, For to oppoſe a Prince that's ſo approv'd 〈◊〉 God and Nature, and by Millions mov'd. 〈◊〉 Lawful to his Soveraign Father, who • eing Brother born unto King Charles too. All Subjects ſhould as fairly, is profeſt, Content his Highneſs, taking of the Teſt: The rather that they do remember when The Covenant corrupted many men: Which now upon Experience, they do ſay Was nothing but Rebellion to obey: The which if they do ſeriouſly conſider, They'll tye themſelves unto his Highneſs hither: Not only in the taking of a Teſt, But alſo think all that he bids are beſt. All which my Quill in Chronicles compleats, Call'd for, conſiſting of nine hundred ſheets. The Scripture too, ſpeaks of the matter much, Saying, neither Crown, nor Chriſt's anointed touch. Take notice then, and on the point appear, As you profeſs for what's rehearſed here: Theſe Lines all Loyal Subjects will allow, Your ſelf being thought one of that number now: And I (as in Sincerity I ſaid it) Annex my Name, maintaining Mercer made it. Since I from Scotland do my days derive, I am bound by nature truly to contrive My beſt advice, being wiſe advice I vow, As you will find, if you theſe words will view, Which follow, freely from this noble Name, Royal and Loyal, a too Sacred Theme For my mean Muſe, or ſuch a one as I To enterprize, ſuch purpoſe to imply. However, I wiſh you with all reverence read The Name, and what doth from the fame proceed

James Stewart. Acroſtick. • AMES juſtly aims to reign in high renown, Apparent heir unto the Triple Crown. Moſes makes mention in his Teſtament, Even ſo the Goſpel gives us ſure conſent. Solomon alſo uſes all his Art Such true inſtructions to us to impart, That now three Nations own him as their own, Either (as alſo earneſtly) make known What Intereſt and Eminency ſo high Ariſe unto Great Britain's Monarchy: Remembring Ireland doth diſplay its Banner There on the Harp, in moſt melodious manner Plays and Proclaims, agreeing all together, Emulating who ſhall ſee him firſt come thither. To ſtay in Scotland ſtill in great renown, The Kingdom where this diton is ſet down, Nobis haec invicta miſerunt centum ſex proavi, Where we ſhall make our Enemies houl, and alſo call peccavi. Come theſe to Court, and could there come no more, The King calls no Idolatry to adore His Brother, whoſe greatneſs doth ingratiate Himſelf ſo in you, now remember that: Not ſtanding ſtrict on things miſunderſtood, But bowing, embrace York for your future good. Theſe Rhimes which for the Royal Duke I do Gather by gueſs, truſt to forgiveneſs too: Which Rhime, now Reader, though raſhly I o're-run it. 'Tis true, and you may be aſham'd to ſhun it.

READER.

three crowns

THis Emblem of three Crowns in one Contains ſuch ſigns as ſuit the Throne, A Roſe, a Thiſtle, De Luce, and Harp: Two ſmell, one ſounds, and one is ſharp. England's Roſe red, and ſmells beſide; Scotland's Thiſtle's ſharp, and pricks at Pride; The fragrant Flower de Luce from France, Ireland a Harp to make men dance. Three Crowns, Four Signs, one Rex, one Ring: This Emblem is an endleſs thing, Which none dare ſeek till the King aſcend Where Seraphims ſhall him attend: Then that Prince may approach and ſpeed That's next akin, three Crowns ſucceed: Continuing ſtill as endleſs Rings, Reigning already nigh ſix-ſcore Kings In Scotland, and unconquer'd too, The like till Doomſ-day let them do; Producing due Succeſſion ſo As Atoms where Wind does not blow: Which I am bent to beg, becauſe Divinity directly draws Such Contemplations from my Pen As are not meet for meaner men • han mighty Kings; for Kings and Gods 〈◊〉 all one Name, but at great odds: • nd though God gives great men the name, • reat men muſt not aſſume the ſame. • he King in jeſt can call a man 〈◊〉 , but dare that man own it than. 〈◊〉 that by nature's ſur-nam'd King 〈◊〉 no more Soveraign for the thing. • nd one in acting of a Play, 〈◊〉 call'd a King for all that day; • ext morning mention made thereof, 〈◊〉 will account it but a ſcoff; Who was King in leſs than an hour, 〈◊〉 preſent they deſpiſe his power; 〈◊〉 Deity adore to day Whom they did make a Fool at play: 〈◊〉 they have been both born and bred 〈◊〉 Naturalis that have ſped: 〈◊〉 better but throw Scepters by, • nd even as men, lye down and dye: 〈◊〉 Kings are Chriſts anointed, and • eing Treaſon to tranſgreſs command, • ur King alive, I affirm it fit • ll ſorts of Subjects ſhould ſubmit: 〈◊〉 he is King, and reigns over all, We ſhould ſo, whether we ſtand or fall. Then let no Subject ſeem ſuch Slave, 〈◊〉 croſs the King whom God them gave: • cotch-men ſay they by them enjoy all, Then Scotch-men muſt to Kings prove Loyal. The Scots this in their Act contrives Their King his Right from God derives: • ew Kingdoms can make out ſo much, Then Scotchmen ſure will be non-ſuch: Which to extol, try my Extract, 〈◊〉 Paraphraſe upon the Act. And if they ask for whom it came, His Name (in part) implyes I AM. I hope this now's no Blaſphemy, Alluding unto one ſo high. To call men Gods, God doth allow Leſs Sin in this than I AM now. But pray proceed, ſee how my Theme Preſumes to praiſe his Highneſs name: And on King Charles, as I have skill, But better is in my Chronicle. Then ſee my Muſes Complement, In praiſing of the Parliament: I praiſe't for this one Act, much more Then fifty Parliaments before; Or fifty Acts, with all conſents, Made in five hundred Parliaments.

A Paraphraſe upon an Act of Parliame •• held in Edenburg, Auguſt 4. Anno Dom. 16 • Acknowledging, Confeſſing, Ratifying and firming the Lineal and Lawful Succeſſion of Crown of Scotland to be deriv'd in Royal Po • from God Almighty alone. PArnaſſus Foeminines fairly put to touch, Having wiſer ways than Maſculines by much; I call on them a cauſe to carry on, Concerns King Charles and his Succeſſion: My Ark includes all Acts ſince Thirty eight, In Scotland; and now to fill up the fraight, I muſt this Act which Scotland doth contrive Enter it alſo; ſince they do derive The ſame from Law, and links of Nature, lo God tyes them from that Government not to go: 〈◊〉 ſhall my Acts in Chronicles for ever Proclaim this Act to be neglected never, But thereunto adhere with heart and hand, And to this Act of Parliament to ſtand: Eſtabliſhing by all the Acts of Art, From true Succeſſors never to depart: Not weighing their Religion in our Scale, But in the point, unto St. Paul appeal, Who bids us to ſuperiour powers ſubmit, Grave Grecians alſo all affirming fit What they have done; their Souls and Bodies both, Becoming bent unto them to betroth The Royal Rights; as Thales Mileſius, and Pythagoras, Plato, theſe three truly ſtand To an effectual faithful definition Of the Soul; ev'n ſo in a condign condition, Scotland concludes; and they of duty do Define King Charles's Heirs his Succeſſors too, To Scotland; and, for them to proſper pray All Faithful Subjects, that remain they may Ever; ev'n as no Act nor Art of man Can know when firſt that Monarchy began. When e're it entred, then when that King's dead The next by nature ſhall that Crown ſucceed. Ageſilaus, Zeno, Xenophon, and other, For your vaſt Vertues value you as Brother, I ſay for your, becauſe I know not whom T' talk to truly till the true time come. Your, you, us, we, are words pertain to Plurals, Such as are Kings, not render'd unto Rurals. All add their ſtrength, and ſtand in ſtately manners By Parliaments, for to diſplay their Banners. So by my Ark, and every Act therein, This Crowning all, I humbly hope to win My mean deſires, who bound by duty, do Pray for King Charles, and his Succeſſors too.

Poſtſcript. Three Kingdoms now united are in one, To glorifie King Charles on the Throne: But God and Grace, Law, Nature, now and all, The Scots Crown, they call Kings Crown Imperial. Now I'm afraid that I prophane Such famous Names with words in vain, Wherefore to expiate my Pride, I pray, ſo throw my Pen aſide. 〈6 pages missing〉

NOtable News (peruſe now) from Parnaſſus, In which, to tell truth, not one point doth paſs us: By one that did ſo much with Mars paſs muſter, His Muſe was beat to tell the truth, then truſt her.

IN A POEM, Divided into Two Parts:

Firſt, To the King, Secondly, To the Subjects of the ſaid three Kingdoms.

Dedicated to the MAJESTY of Great Britain, France and Ireland.

By William Mercer.

LONDON, Printed in the Year 1682.

An Epitome: OR, THE Abſtract of Three CHRONICLES Which contains at large a true Catalogue of th • Paſſages, Parties and Perſecutions within th • three Kingdoms of England, Scotland and Irelan •

BEginning about 1638. about which time th • troubles aroſe in the ſaid Kingdoms, with th • Names and Titles of the moſt potent perſo • that were, and yet are the chief inventers and 〈◊〉 menters of the ſame; together with a true account of 〈◊〉 occurrences and contrivances of all ſorts of perſons an • imployments from that time to the day of the date hereo • according to the beſt Informations, and under the hands 〈◊〉 the moſt judicious indifferent beholders thereof, togethe • with my own perſonal preſence, being an eye-witneſs ther • unto, having had imployment in good capacity, from the v • ry firſt, in England, a Native of Scotland, a long-liver in Ir • land; being bribed by no man to report partially, as wi •• appear upon publication of the principal piece, till whic • time let all men expect from my Pen as they find themſelves free upon conſultation in their own Conſciences 〈◊〉 private, and no otherwiſe.

The Preface or Prologue to this Epitome. In Two Parts. The effect of what is following you may find Lying upon this firſt page here confin'd.

The Firſt Part. Firſt when we met, my Maſter Mars allows, • nd by his power proclaims a Rendezvouz: The Names are call'd, who as they anſwer, enter, And ſo receive their wages at a venture. 〈◊〉 this Deluge, or dangerous ſhowre of ſhot, 〈◊〉 build a big Barque, and a ſmaller Boat, 〈◊〉 ſave ſome by, but few will be found free, When they have no Certificate of me. 〈◊〉 bring them all before my Soveraigns Throne, 〈◊〉 ſubtil, ſinful Convocation: • ſſuring you too, that (in ſhort) I think, • oats will not bear them, they muſt ſwim or ſink.

The Second Part. • or having preſt Celeſtial powers, And pierc'd the Sacred Throne, 〈◊〉 to aſſiſt, perceiving ſhowers To ſink us every one. • all them all to come to me, Though ſome (to grant) do grudge, 〈◊〉 you ſhall ſuch on ſudden ſee Drown'd in a deep Deluge. 〈◊〉 though I herein do deviſe Two things, I'll tell you what, One may find favour in your Eyes, Not▪both, believe me that. Yet if but one my Prince doth pleaſe, With ſome at whom I hint, I ſhall be glad in ſome degrees, I play'd the Fool in Print.

To the King Perlege quodcunque eſt, quid Epiſtola lecta nocebit? Te quoque in hac aliquid quod juvat, eſſe poteſt. St. Mat. 24. 5. & 1 John 3. 26. Take heed, Theſe things have I written unto you, Concerning them that deceive you. A Sonnet. May it pleaſe your Majeſty. Here now you have (I humbly talk in time) Few pages following, which repeat in Rhime; The ſenſe of all I aim at in my Ark: Or ſhall I rather call it but a Bark? Becauſe the burthen which it bears, is but (Being weigh'd in value, worth a new crackt Nut: Now ne'r the leſs, may it like your Majeſty, Peruſe my Rhimes where it appears plainly Set forth at full, what doth the piece import, I call the Ark; but if the ſame ſeem ſhort Then drown it, and to do ſo do not grudge, Such doings do deſerve a deep deluge. For I had rather been try'd and tyred tarrying, Than come with Cargazon were not worth the carrying Moſt Sacred Sir, • f all the Muſes of the Mount were mine, Though they are noted for the Sacred nine) And could they make Maeonides▪ of me, All my Inventions were but vanity, Weigh'd with the Wiſdom Solomon did reherſe, So often writing advice in every Verſe, Urging, as 'twere, by Arguments to win Mens welfare: So I humbly here begin, • eing prompted, or rather timely tempted to What (in obedience) I am bound to do; And that I would with Eagles Feathers fly To fetch fruition for your Majeſty: All which (I ſay) aſſembled at the Throne, 〈◊〉 to aſſiſt my Reſolution, Were but to blame, me to make bold to bring • uch empty Emblems to encroach a King: Though in the cloſe they come like claps of Thunder, Moving the Mountains both above and under: Then (ſeeing things in danger) do confeſs, Determin'd timely to make this addreſs: So I in duty, and long date of days, • ppreſt my Pen, till it in part diſplays, Not ſparing pains to put in rural Rhime The paſſages ſince firſt that fatal time. There was a Cauſe cry'd up, whoſe pregnant Pride Aſpir'd three Kingdoms, and three Crowns beſide; A Cauſe, which Cauſe, had it but been ſo us'd, As ſome men meant (though more men it abus'd) It might done well; but O when power takes place, On pure pretence to ſpit God in the face, What fearful fall doth follow? Then let none Dare to invent works of Rebellion Againſt that God who gives ſo good a King To govern us, with healing under his Wing: Contrary cauſes produce effects conform, As we beheld the late deſtructive ſtorm: So that I ſhould not ſeek the Sacred nine, Though they'r avoucht (through all the World) Divine, To help me here, nor ſcale Parnaſſus Throne, To fill my Quill in Holy Helicon; Such glancing Glow-worms glittering in the dark, By ſuch Dark Lanthorns I may miſs my mark: Wherefore for aid, ſince I this day am driven, I'll ſcale the Skies, and have my help from Heaven, Then to Jehovah, not to Jove, in jeſt, I recommend my Muſe to move at leaſt: And (in a cauſe) ſuch croſſes doth afford, In pray'r at length muſt invocate the Lord: My mighty maker then do thou inſpire Such power in me, my Tongue may never tire. To tell the truth; that Angel, Lord, allow Me that kept Eden; then when Adam flew Forth from thy preſence, be thou preſent ſtill, Aſſiſting me, and work upon my will; Such Sacred ſenſe, that equally to all Of whom I ſpeak, I prove Impartial. Lord let thy Spirit penetrate by power, And melt my Soul in a celeſtial ſhower: To ſing the ſecrets that concern the King, Wrapt up in Clouds of carnal covering: To which effect I humbly proſtrate pray, To proſper me in all I think to ſay; And where a fault appears in my Expreſſion, In ſuch a caſe connive at my Confeſſion, Which I will now in clear Characters raiſe Againſt my ſelf, and thoſe are only theſe: When of my Age I was but twelve and three, I fled from School, where few ſuch follow'd me, And ſerv'd an Emperour; and in much ado, I ſerv'd in Denmark, and Guſtavus too: • erv'd all the three, but each of them one year, • ook never pay, not ſinning I may ſwear: 〈◊〉 that it ſeems, amongſt ſo many men, • oſs'd a Pike more than I ſpoil'd a Pen; • nd I may tell as truly too, indeed, • writ much more by Millions than I read: • ot loving to get Learning, nor remain 〈◊〉 School, and now not greedy to get gain; • ow ſhould I then or render Verſe or Rhime, • roving ſo prodigal of my precious time? Wherefore I hope (albeit but bad excuſes) • our Majeſty hath meekneſs for ſuch Muſes. Whence (being but ſimple) this preſent profit ſprings; The perfect truth is taken from ſuch things. And ſo I ſhall in ſome degree go on, To bring my Mite before my Monarchs Throne: Though I ſay Mite unto your Majeſty, • ll make the Mite a Mountain in your Eye: And then again I ſhall ſome Mountains make Tremble, when I have tyed them to the ſtake. Great Sir, then that Confuſion may not fill This call'd the Abſtract of my Chronicle, Allow me leave to moderate my Muſe, So my conſtructions) be not too abſtruſe: That in a Method ſeeming meet to me, Your Majeſty may many Secrets ſee. As in a Mirrour moral Miſcreants, Deeply diſſembling as all ſuch were Saints. But as at firſt when all was only Chaos, E're man was made, God (in himſelf) foreſaw us, That when we are, his Work would be in vain, Man would in ſuch Confuſion fall again: So alſo I, firſt when I undertook Of ſuch ſhrewd matter for to make a Book, I did conjecture I the mark might miſs, As much indeed as I have done in this: For I did in ſuch ſad confuſion fall, My Muſe may make a Chaos of us all: Yea, and aſſum'd ſuch zeal ſo on me too, I for their ſakes Idolatry did do: And did as Saul once doubtleſs did in zeal, But now at laſt I muſt as Paul appeal, For even as Paul as Perſecutor prov'd, Being blind, but then became the Lords belov'd: So in blind zeal, I prais'd as men appear'd, But when I found my fond conjectures jeer'd, Faithleſs Profeſſors in their promiſe fail, As Balaam's Beaſt, then I began to rail Upon the Prophets; but to reprehend Was work in vain, and therefore in the end (Things to reſent) ſaid this, That they might ſee Habet & Muſca ſplenem prov'd in me▪ Neglecting thoſe to whom they ne'r ſaid no, An Enemy would not be ſerved ſo. That when I view'd, they wickedly would venture To add ſuch Items to a bad Debenture: Then I began a clear Account to caſt, And in the Cloſe concluded this at laſt, The perſecutions not of all, but even Out of a dozen I might draw eleven: And ſo as Saul (who when he ſaw the ſin) Pray'd to convert them that would ſcrape his skin: So in my Book, albeit forbearing thoſe, My Perſecutors, and I pray for foes: Yet by ſo doing, as Divines do read, I may heap Coals of fire upon their head: Wherefore in all humility I here In this Catalogue ſhall come ſomething near: To ſhow by ſigns Wares at the Window vented, Proclaiming worſe within, if not prevented. My Chronicles tells clearly when it comes, Of Webs that weaving, wanted they the Thrums. I ſay as did Diogenes in jeſt, Then when he ſaw the greater Thieves in haſt, Running to ſee the leſſer hang'd, he laught, And ſaid the great Thieves ſhould as Knaves be caught. Both Throats and Thrums cut, Webs then better would Fully unfolded, keep us from the cold.) Theſe things apply'd now in Parentheſis, Much more make plain the meaning than of this: So I return, though in familiar ſtile, To put in order all that's in this Iſle: But here I only do by tokens tell 'um, The Chronicle more Scholar-like can ſpell 'um: So I go on, as all are ranked there, (For lo that piece I to the Ark compare) Which Noah built, wherein I think to ſave Such Righteous perſons as I ſhall receive Upon Repentance, finding of them free, And them admit within the Ark with me. But Noah had command to make the Ark Three hundred cubits long, albe't that Bark Muſt bear a burden only but of eight, And all not faithful neither, ſuch a fraight Might ſo be ſav'd, and here it is even ſo, Juſt and unjuſt, all generally do go Within my Ark; which being open'd once, And all call'd out, 'twill be but as a Sconce Compos'd of Paper, not of Planks and power; So ſlight a Ship might ſink in ſuch a ſhower: In cruel caſes men may make conform Both Bark and Fly-boat to withſtand the ſtorm: So as my Ark at Anchor doth prove nice, My Fly-boat puts Fools in a Paradiſe: For if ſome few, when they are call'd, can ſtand By Faith as firm as they were on the Land, So that the Waters were not their reward; Yet when (at Court) they come to play their Card They may miſtake, I do not ſay they ſhall, Though ſome's in danger for to fetch a fall; For when ſo many did my Bark abuſe, I fram'd this Fly-Boat, and ſhall not refuſe To ſave ſome in't, as I in duty ſtand, Though not preſuming I can purge the Land. As did St, Patrick (who though purging Vermine) To put the ſpawn in people did not determine: Or not that all are ill, though many may, For in the general I have ſuch to ſay, That as the Angels were created good, And ſo might in that Heavenly ſtation ſtood, Yet fell, and for no other reaſon neither, But that they fell as they affected rather: Even ſo ſhall many in their place appear, Fallen from their firſt love too, too many here. Cathedral Saints I do not now ſingle any,Chur •• men. But rich and poor, all men muſt anſwer when I Call by their Names, the Prophet and the Prieſt Both are in danger of one days arreſt, Unleſs the people plainly make appear, That they read prayers preciſely once a year. The big Book duly doth demonſtrate all The famous Fathers Apoſtolical. Whence one of twelve was once found falſe before, But out of twelve I now name half a ſcore. Then for our Judges I go evenly on,Judg • Comparing ſome to Homer's Sarpedon, And in the big Book I do clear the caſe, Compares with Pompey and Ariſtides. Some Judges Juſtneſs here, I tell you that, Moſes and Joſhua's Juſtice imitate: Though they are dead, their deeds live nevertheleſs; Good mens perfections death doth not ſuppreſs: And in my Book, albe't he be removed, I point at one ſo for his Law beloved: Not only Law (but to diſparage none) Equal in all things unto Sarpedon. • uſtice in Judges, ought as they ſurvive Each one th' other, t' appear ſuperlative. Pindarus, Plato, Cicero did ſay Of Juſtice as good Judges do to day: And as Theog • nes gives it us in Greek, Take it in Latin, leſt the thing you ſeek. • uſtitia in ſeſe virtutes continet omnes. Even ſo as knowledge is on me conferr'd, (To tell the Truth my Tongue being not deterr'd) 〈◊〉 do repeat the prudence then of thoſe, Examining when parties do oppoſe Each one the other, and that make reportDoctors. Impartially in preſence of the Court: And all ſurrounding every Bench, a bit I lay before them, for to bite on it. Phyſicians that put poiſon in the Pill,Phyſicians, and ſuch as profeſs. I pay them Fees according to their Skill; And thoſe that have both skill and kindneſs too, As they deſerve, accordingly I do. Hippocrates I challenge, not for cheats, He fills the Files with well advis'd Receipts. Galen hath Gard'ners gathering Herbs, I grant,Apothecaries. Pliny's ſupplying every place with Plants. Now thoſe that plead, and ſuch as play the Knave, If they themſelves by Sophiſtry can ſave, Then be it ſo; much is made out by Art, Howe're it is, my Pen muſt play its part: Some Clerks, and ſome the Terms tongue-turn'd Attorneys, Talking to them, makes merry on my Journeys. There is one well-cover'd with a Gown ingrain'd Of baſe black dye, with ſtinking Coffee ſtain'd:Anagram O Baſe Cret'r' I. In theſe few words his Name's anatomiz'd, And Anſwers to it, ſince he was Baptiz'd. All in which big Book brightly will appear: In ſmall Eclipſes things are not ſeen clear. I try all Trades, though ſome paſt Prenticeſhip, Playing the Knave, ſuch I ſeverely whip. Some take up Trades, and ſome untaught Attorney Turns Lawyer; but by taking of a Journey:To Lon ••• I ſtrive to take ſuch untrain'd Tradeſ-mens Tools, Send ſuch Mock-Lawyers back again to Schools, Not cheriſhing of Cheaters; but at large My Chronicle caſheers them from their charge. But O alas! one thing's like to be loſt, His Majeſties Omiſſioners almoſt; And yet I do not draw ſo deep a Debter, My big Book bears them in a larger Letter. Though herein happens one miſtake in me, I do neglect that great Character C; I ſhould ſay Co when O came in the way; But now I think them both are beſt to ſay. Saint Paul, you know, he ſaith and ſealeth it, The good, (he would) the ill (he will) commit; But they I ſee in both are Righteous rather, Omit and Commit fully for their Father. Do as the Scots ſaid, rightly underſtood, The Souldiers ſwore they came for all their good: But here is no ſuch daubing now adays, Whate're is call'd for, ev'ry one obeys; No man gets wrong but of the toys they bring, Take ſome themſelves, the reſt goes to the King; God's good unto them, therefore every hour Floods (on the Farmers) favours freely pour. Many poor Merchants travel every Tyde, And give what they can rap and run beſide: They'r good to all, fetch when you can tell what, Be what it will they'll take it, what fault's that? They cannot all fair Promiſes perform, For fear their Fortunes fail them in a ſtorm. 〈◊〉 would not wrong the Kings Omiſſioners, More than the Prieſts wrong poor Pariſhoners, Albe't I wrong them in one Letter, lo, 〈◊〉 would not wrong them too much, no, no, no; 〈◊〉 favour Farmers; they ſhall find ſo when They come my Three-crown'd Chronicle to ſcan. This thing's ſo ſecret, few know what I do, The t' other tells both Name and Title too. Nor do I only thoſe in Commiſſion ſcan, Now there, but every individual man. Since firſt (in faſhion) the King confirm'd a Farm, To praiſe one, not another, may do harm; Wherefore, at beſt, I'll throw this Bauble by, Becauſe the big Book brings Authority; And preſs no more, great Sir, but let you ſee, So many Authors are aſſiſting me, To make things out, both Heatheniſh and Heav'nly, All their inventions ev'ry one as ev'nly As all the Arts and Sciences, I think, Could write, were all the Purple Ocean Ink; Here are their Names, no man knows more than I, And I'll repeat them to your Majeſty: Divine and Moral, ſome that knew not God, But gave good Counſel, was not that then odd? Ariſtotle and Plato, I have Cato too, Socrates, and all Diogenes could do; Themiſtocles and Solon, I have ev'n ſo The Romans General, Generous Scipio: Demoſthenes his Anſwer to Epimites, I ſpoke with Plutarch and Ariſtides; I tell you alſo of Emelius; Apelles Painting, what will that avail us: And I have catched Counſel too of Titus, I alſo ſaw Egeſilaus meet us: Anaxagoras, Periander, I ſaw Zeno, Pythagoras opinion ſpake with pain, O, Menander and Caligula, and lo Domitian and Hippocrates alſo: Lycurgus and Xenocrates, and ſuch, And talked to Epictetus as much: Xenophanes call'd Coward, ſcarcely knockt; Perſeue lending his Money, he was mockt: Heſiodus his Precepts underſtood, Agathocles, a Potters Son, not proud.A King. Darius and Artaxerxes with one ſcore, I yet could count, but I will name no more, But only three, who I report for Pride, Though here are thouſands ſuch as they beſide; Diocleſian the Emperour, he was one, Herod Agrippa another, now I'm gone; But Titus Flaminius takes it as a wonder That I omit him, therefore comes he under. All theſe are Authors in my Chronicle, Comparing men unto them, good or ill; I ſtay not now their Vertues to rehearſe, Nor will I put their praiſes here in Verſe; But every Subject (let them fawn or frown) As they deſerve, lo I have ſet them down. By wiſe advice, and by whoſe cunning skill, Your Majeſty may know my Chronicle Is compos'd; now on another task I intrude, Comparing ſome to Tutors too, as rude. Twelve famous Fathers, Soveraign Sir, conſider What pains I paſt, comparing them together: Who to (themſelves) can beſt the attribute Apply, as to their knowledge they them ſuit. But I alledge when in the Scales they come They will down-weigh, I well may wager, ſome; Becauſe they do their baſe debauch'dneſs bear Almoſt as much as any named now here; Who though they be here only but eleven, I do not doubt to draw the dozen even; So I begin, and in their greatneſs greet 'um, But in the big Book like a man I meet 'um. 1. Caligula is common in the caſe, 2. Tiberius comes in with a flaming face, 3. Nero is never very far to find, 4. Heliogabalus hath a vicious mind: 5. As Alexander, men are moſt malicious, And I aver all men almoſt are vicious. 6. Cyrus is ſly at Court, and catching ſtill, 7. Ʋlyſſes likewiſe with his Wit doth ill; 8. Mydas is mighty covetous you know▪ 9. Hannibal's a crafty Knave ev'n ſo: 10. Zopyrus hath in baſe diſſembling skill, 11. And Ariſtippus will be flattering ſtill: Now doubtleſs I dare out the dozen do, 12. For I am ſure here is a Judas too. But I forbear until my big Book come, Where on the Margin I have marked ſome. I help the Heraulds, when I'm brisk about 'um, Blazing their Arms; but better be without 'um: Yet it were ill all were alike, for lo, Parcite paucorum Diffundere crimen, you know▪ But ſince I in my Arithmetick move, My Pen muſt more upon the point improve. I ſearch in Secrets, which unlookt on lye, Impeaching perſons that aſpire too high; I ſpeak of Pride, the only evil even Why Angels were ſo hurl'd out of Heaven. Envy I own the juſteſt ill of all, It kills it ſelf to cauſe its father fall. Of Straits and Trenches, whom ſome call contriver, The Chronicle that Doctrine doth deliver. I talk of Traytors, and I touch the Treaſon; But Solomon for things aſſigns a ſeaſon: And I forbear, allowing you to look Where you ſhall ſee abundance in the Book. Only I bring, albeit I be forbid, The thing in ſight the Lacedaemons did; But I'm afraid my Muſe may be abhorr'd, Or call'd a Fool for what ſhe doth afford, Affecting to be found a Fool in Verſe, Rather than call me Knave upon my Hearſe. Of Government I grant I give a touch, But meddle not with Governours too much, Becauſe St. Paul bids us that block forbear, And I muſt alſo ſeem ſo godly here; Lift Hands and Eyes, and bid the poor go pray: But of ſuch things ſee what St. James doth ſay. And I do tell ſome tokens, time and place, How that the Romans rul'd in ſuch a Caſe; And they did rule, and over-rule indeed, In all Dominions through the World we read. I ſcan the cauſe Great Britain bore abuſe, How Ireland felt the effect who will refuſe; I point at perſons whom I fear foment, Make Memorandums how we may prevent; I could ſpeak plain, but ſhould I ſo appear, Though now I'm ſafe, it puts me in a fear. Whenever my big Book ſhall be ſeen abroad, I find ſuch Friends as good Sir Edmund God— But of the Romans, what I ſaid before Is true, and I can add too on the ſcore, When Government to any one was given, All old adherents that ſame day were driven Hence at great diſtance, as was done of late At our Vice-gerents general debate. Which of the two would touch us to the quick, The Covenanter or Roman Catholick; What was concluded, muſt not with my will Come here, but hazards in my Chronicle. But, Royal Sir, by what is here I hope, Your Majeſty may ſoon conceive the ſcope 〈◊〉 this Complaint, and that it clearly comes, 〈◊〉 thoſe before the Battel beating Drums 〈◊〉 bid alarms, albe't I be the man • hat fetches fewel and the fire do fan 〈◊〉 warm my ſelf: Sir, yet a King doth know When Coals are cover'd, one blaſt of Wind may blow; • eing as 'twere the Watch-word to awaken • ecure men ſleeping, thouſands nigh forſaken; • orgive me then, moſt Sacred Sir, to ſhow, Without offence, things that I cannot know • learly concluded, becauſe I'm none of them •• ployed in private for to play the game; 〈◊〉 lookers on, though ſeeming in a Trance, 〈◊〉 ſee as much as thoſe that play perchance; • ſpecially a perſon not imploy'd, When Tempeſts threaten, leſt he be deſtroy'd, • ooks to himſelf, and ſees whereat they aim, • nd then in Conſcience muſt the Cauſe proclaim. 〈◊〉 Sentinel Perdu to defend the ſhot 〈◊〉 ſuch as ſleep, but never get one Groat; • he Chronicle of all theſe Plots complain, 〈◊〉 Proſe and Verſe; But and every word in vain; 〈◊〉 have not had, no not in thirty years, • ore than Good morrow, as it plain appears; 〈◊〉 all that's ſaid, ſerv'd, ſuffer'd, ſure I think, 〈◊〉 I lay ſick, they'd give me Gall to drink. • ut though ſuch things to our Creator cry, • he preſent iſſue's in your Majeſty, 〈◊〉 pain to ponder, and comparing it, • ive what my Soveraign finds for preſent fit; • nd for the future from ſuch Sacred Throne, 〈◊〉 end the Ark, appoint a Penſion. • hould it be ſmall, nine hundred ſheets now nigh, 〈◊〉 put to preſs, whenever th' Author dye. 〈◊〉 I am pleas'd this inſtant hour to Print • he Piece, wherein (though here I only hint) I publiſh all; I cannot Cheaters cheriſh, Fight for it too, and if I periſh, periſh. The Chronicle conſiſting, as I ſay, Of bulk ſo big, did make my Brain obey. Now eighteen times Twelve-months, at leaſt, and mo • Before my reckoning mounted to this ſcore: And is compoſed, as it will appear, With great expence: I have two Patrons here Who will approve, though I their Names ſuppreſs, I never drew one Doit of broken Braſs. But what is told I will for truth aver, And what's to come, none ſhall my Tongue deter: To tell that too, though it looks like a lye, I'll Paraphraſe upon a Prophecy; So praying for a powerful Inſpiration Of God, I'll venture on a new Narration. And yet before I on the task intrude, Becauſe the courſe I am to run is rude, I'll move my Muſe in meekneſs) modeſtly, With one word more unto your Majeſty: Peter perceiv'd a Veſſel with proviſion, And Voice came down from Heaven, but no deluſion, The voice ſaid three times, Peter kill and eat; Peter reply'd, He muſt not meddle with meat Polluted; ſo then preſently eſpies The ſheet to vaniſh with the Sacrifice. So in this ſheet your Majeſty may ſee (I humbly hope this is no ſin in me) Such things as you may Sacrifice, but ſure They are ſo much polluted and impure, As if my Soveraign pleaſe to ſearch, you ſhall Find few that's free, of twenty, one, that's all; Then Sir, for ſafety, ſatisfie the beſt, In mercy, but bid Sacrifice the reſt: Till they are free from all thoſe foul offences Whereof they'r full, for all their fair pretences: Which do they not, God will their Pride diſplay, • or demonſtrations I have done to day. • nd though my King may all my deeds undo, • muſt ſay ſomething to the Subject too.

TO THE SUBJECTS. • ehold I have told you before. Mat. 24. 25. • vil purſueth ſinners, but to the Righteous good ſhall be repaid. Prov. 13. 21. To the Reader. UPon this Paper are expreſt Some lines which long enough may laſt: Or at the leaſt, till they and I Appear before his Majeſty; • nd with a Volume weighing more • han this I told you of before: • s the Prophet preacht to Nineve, • epent, or doubtleſs ye ſhall dye: • nd now this quarrel I can pick, • peak like a Roman Catholick, • epentance will not pay the Fine, • ou muſt in Purgatory pine •• ll you reſtore, and till you do • erform what you have promis'd too. But ſince the Chronicle is coming, I'll ſay as to one ſinking, ſwimming, Take hold of things that's ſhuffling by, Or you may duck your head and dye. Which is the ſumm now of the thing I have compoſed for the King: To ſhew it ſelf I think not fit, But here's a little All of it. Then Reader, ſince I have to do, And talking too as many too, I'll ceaſe, leſt ſome ſay you and I Both had our fingers in the Pye. And ſo if things (as ſaid before) May pleaſe my Prince, I preſs no more. What I exhibit at the Throne Being read with reverence, then go on In manner following. To all of whom I write what I invent, I cannot promiſe ev'ry one content: However it be, let every man be mute Till he behold how I do diſtribute. Lighting of Lamps there where the Sun doth ſhine Were labour loſt, ſuch method is not mine; Or to waſte Wafers where I ſet no Seal, I am not ſure that ſecret to conceal: So paraphraſing on a point that's plain, Were but to prove a Prophecy profane: All which I bring but only by the by, 'Cauſe to the purpoſe I do them apply. Of Chronicles compos'd of Complements, Becauſe my Book to ſuch a thing aſſents, I ſhall ſay little: Yet I muſt ſomething ſay, My Tongue muſt not a task in truſt betray: But not to preſs the priviledge of a Poet, Nor crave connivence, as in danger do it: I'll interpoſe in Poems, and repeat Old Prophecies, leſt I be challeng'd, Cheat; And in the end, applying all to us, Muſt pray my Speech prove not ſuperfluous, Nor perilous, ſince partly I compare By Prophecies, ſome famous perſons there, Both good and bad, who when they come to ſcan, May take themſelves in ſecret for the man. Then Reader, rudely pray you do not run To tear the Thrums before a part be ſpun, Spit in my face, and ſay the man is mad, Writ like a Fool firſt, then begin to gad, And tell ſuch ſtories, which ſhould ſome ſeem true, Then all our Pomp might periſh with a whew; Not only Pomp, but Purſe, Pride, Power and all, A Frozen Kitchin, and a Hungry Hall, And all the people preſſing now ſo near us, Would then diſdain us, proving poor as Irus: But why ſeem we ſo fearful till we ſee, Who knows but theſe paſt Prophecies agree With our deſigns? not doing us detect, As do Hounds, when they follow on the Tract: Therefore before his Dictates we condemn, Becauſe he knows we never did contemn His Perſon nor his Poems, but ſo cloy'd him With Promiſes, albeit we ne'r imploy'd him: I wiſh we had his fair deſires redoubled, So ſhould we with his ſtories not been troubled: But as the Piggs upon the Paps will wamble Long e're they ſuck; he makes ſuch proud preamble That I ſuſpect he doth ſome piece prepare Of purpoſe to pay every one a ſhare: Wherefore let's pray the Poet to proceed, That we may know what knacks are in his head. I hear you ſpeak, and what I do propone, Grudge not I pray, but let me prattle on. Conſidering what ſays Seneca to you,Ab alio expectes quod alteri feceris. Deſiring as you would be done to, do; But that you laid this leſſon long aſide, Since ſome with ſuch Poſtilions proudly ride. 'Tis ſtrange a famous man is not found fit To be preferr'd until he purchaſe it: When beardleſs Boys muſt be imploy'd to play, Becauſe there is no danger in the day: But if a Fight ſhould follow, few do doubt, Stout men might ſtrive for to lead on the rout. And yet there is no fear, though Fools profeſs, That all muſt fight and dye, or go to Maſs. But theſe are ſtories men may talk in jeſt; Before I periſh I will play the Prieſt. But this expreſſion from a pratling Scot, May make them think I am upon the Plot▪ Then this were wiſer in ſo plain a caſe, A Gift of Guinea's can procure a place. Though men muſt not take Bribes, by which neglect, From Moſes's Chair may chance to break their Neck. But let this paſs now, it appears no peril, Look to your ſelves, Sirs, here comes on the quarrel: All Neighbour Nations ſins we dare out-do, And I can count out four unto you too Whom we exceed; The Dutch we do out-drink, And we out-drabb the Italian too, I think; Yea, we out-brave the French-man very far, And to out-brag the Spaniſh too, we dare: Theſe are the ſins now in the Synagogues, Objects of Glory, and ungodly Rogues. Acts of Orlando few men can perform, Their hands being bound, they muſt ſtand in the ſtorm. Who would refuſe now, if he were ſo bid, As the worthy Cardinal of Toledo did: To whom the Spaniſh Monarchy made ſuit, Offering a Princely penſion too to boot▪ But as her Theologian, to aſſiſt Her Royal Council, which the Monarch miſt; His Conſcience could not give conſent at all, And ſo, I ſay, miſt to be Cardinal: For he did grant, that if he were to get All ſhe could give, ſet in her Chair of State, But to betray the ſimpler peoples Tusk, Make Aſſa foetida ſmell like ſweeteſt Musk; He vow'd he would not wrong the work of God: For thoſe Temptations now I'll blaze abroad, Not as a portion of the Prophecy, Although, I think, it looks much like a lye: Such Promiſes, if proffer'd to us all, Might make a moderate man a Cardinal: And I ſuſpect, would all as plainly ſpeak, Some might become a Cardinal this week: But I forbear, becauſe I can but tattle, And yet I vow for to abate the Battle, That our Diviſion ſhould not go to Gath, Our nakedneſs be publiſhed in the path, Or as they'r term'd, the ſtreets of Askelon, I would be baniſht even to Babylon. The Prophecy ſpreads further, if it ſpeed, Says that the Roman Catholicks have a Creed. To which we will ſay Credo in the cloſe. But Prieſts did pen this Prophecy, I ſuppoſe. But, O behold, how men do gape, and goes, Of Common-wealths men, now call'd Common foes: Men who unto ſuch projects did aſpire, And for their own inordinate deſire Would daſh in pieces, ſaith the Prophecy, All that profeſs; nay, even you and I; But what profeſſion you and I may be, I will not tell you more than you tell me: So our diſorders only do appear, Moſt men are men, moſt irreligious here: For as the time by Minutes moves, we muſt Change ſo our ſelves, we cannot Traytors truſt, Albe't we be even ſo our ſelves; and lo As you ſur-name me, I ſhall not ſay no. One day with O yes, cry God ſave King Charles, Another day comes Covenanted Quarrels: Then comes a Clerk creating a Collector, Whom when you pleaſe can pray for our Protector. Then Papiſts muſt not name a Pariſh Prieſt, Or all muſt ev'n be baniſh'd, every Beaſt. Quakers and Shakers, all men muſt profeſs, Preach when they pleaſe, the Law allows no leſs. Of all theſe Free-wills you with one may venture, Family of Affection, there a man may enter. I ſhall not now more Prophecies profeſs, To ſpend the time, nor tempt you more or leſs. But leſt I hurl you over the head and ears; My ſelf ſubject to Jealouſies and Fears: I will inſiſt, ſeeing both by Rhime and Verſe, I tell the truth in moſt I here reherſe. But if I make the Kings Heart with a Lye Merry, then you call that ſcurrility. Although theſe Lyes lye not in ſecret hid, The Boys by jeſting at Eliſha did The like: I love not, nor affect offence, But would ſeem pleaſant, that proves my pretence. Elias jeſted, jeſted juſtly too,1 King. 18. 2 • When at the Idol he the jeſt did do, Here two extremes, one's call'd ſcurrility, T'other extreme is termed Ruſticity. Such Nabal was, who was accounted Clown, I jeſt not now, when I ſet Scripture down. Deſire of Honour is reputed proud, But puſillanimity is not granted good: Not too deſirous, too averſe not neither; A moderation for to rule them rather. He that deſireth (his deſire is good)1 Tim. 3. 1. 〈◊〉 Biſhoprick, but not to make him proud: Nor muſt men neither do, as we do read The Monk Amonius did, out of his head Cut his Right Ear, rather than he would lye To be made choice of to the Miniſtry. Theſe are extremes which wiſe men may amend, Rather than in ſuch caſes to contend; But who will be found ſuch a Fool as that, Cut off his Ear, unleſs he know for what? Muſt not contend, nor ſhall he either thrive Who doth by Bribes the Prieſthoods place derive: But I believe none ſuch as thoſe are here, To get by Bribes, or want it with an Ear. Indifferent moral matters beſt to be Procured by means of moſt indifferency: But if it be a matter more divine, Then you muſt to Divinity incline; And if you doubt, then I deſire you further, By this Juſt Rule you do lay down your Order, Being comprehended in this very Verſe, Conſiſting of eight words, I will rehearſe: Quis, quid, ubi, quibus, & cur, quomodo, quando, quibuſcum: Try all your actions by theſe as they come, Who, what and why, by what means, and by whoſe; How, when and where, do diverſe doubts diſcloſe. If all theſe words work not, now wrote I th' Evangel, Then you will never alter for an Angel. So all is ended, only this remains, Would any of you patiently take pains, And ſuffer ſuch? Pray weigh this warning then, Repent and mend, or periſh by a Pen. And if you find my Speeches are provokt, You know how Philip railing Nicanor choakt. I'll move no more now, earneſt nor in jeſt, But ceaſe and ſay, Farewel, Sirs, So I reſt.

Thus end the Contents of my Three Crown'd Ch •• nicle, what follows, I humbly hope, moves your 〈◊〉 to laugh, and ſhall ſerve to ſome as a fore-warning to low a Friends advice.

An Apologue in an Epilogue: OR, THE Piſmire Diſplay'd. SCotland and England both are bound in Paper, Ready for reading, and the charge is cheaper, Than Print a piece ſo big, whence I forbear, Being burden'd with ſuch ſcandalous queſtions here▪ And muſt let Ireland lye a while, not end it, Before I find a fault to diſcommend it. Men muſt malign that have packt up the plunder Of Ireland, and ſtill ſtrive to keep it under. That I dare not now challenge ſuch a cheat, Until the Chaff be winnowed from the Wheat. England and Ireland both receive my ſenſe, But I gave Scotland the preheminence When I began, my Birth-right bad me do it, And know the Laws of Nations will allow it. But having enter'd Ireland after all, And, as I ſaid, compared my ſelf to Saul, Who when a voice once entred in his Ear, Confounding him, and bad him to forbear▪ To Perſecute, being hard for him to kick Againſt his God, which toucht him to the quick; Converting Saul, who ſoon became a ſuiter For thoſe to whom he prov'd a Perſecuter; And for whoſe ſakes whom cruelly he croſt, For their Salvation wiſht himſelf were loſt. 〈◊〉 which ſame ſenſe, lo I as Paul do pray All in my Ark may be redeem'd to day From what's determin'd, though indeed few do Deſerve; but I ſhall play the Piſmire now, And as I do this Apologue diſplay, 〈◊〉 pray you read, then cenſure what I ſay. The Lyon ſleeping, men laid Toils to take him, A Piſmire ſpy'd, and vext the Lyon to wake him; Touching him with a Tandem reſurges, till The Lyon proudly would the Piſmire kill For troubling him; to whom the Piſmire pray'd, • ord, look about you e're you are diſmay'd: Which doing, ſaw them ſetting Snares and Bands To take him; brake them, ſo ſcap'd the Hunters hands. Thus though the Piſmire prickt the Lyon, yet The Piſmire ſav'd the Lyons life by it. Wherefore the Lyon, though he is call'd a King, • aid Piſmire ſure I thank thee for the thing: • or had he not been by the Piſmire prickt, • he Hearts blood of the Lyon had been lickt. • ut better cauſes might make Chriſtians calm, 〈◊〉 are at length ſet down in David's Pſalm; • nleſs they be ſuch as Ʋlyſſes left, • ubject to Circe, with her Witches craft, Whom Circe turn'd to Tygers, Swine and Dogs, • nd ever after lov'd to live like Hogs. • ray quarrel not now, nor call me a Knave, Which if? I can with other things receive) • ut this Apologue you'll apply it beſt Into your ſelves, 'tis time to me to reſt. • owe're take notice what the Lyon ſaid, When by the Warning he his freedom had: • uos perdere vult Jupiter (ſuch he infatuates wholly) • uos tueri vult, ſuſcitat, and them defends as fully. The Moral then, if men might not miſtake, Well underſtood, this uſe may of it make: Look to your ſelves, as Lyons lying ſleeps, Make me the Piſmire that in private peeps, And ſees the ſnare, as in my Monarchs mite I ſet it out, boaſting before I bite. Look then about you, Lyons lye in peril, Firſt thank the Piſmire, then conceal the quarrel. And ſince I do apply the point ſo plain, I hope my pratlings prove not words in vain. Praxiteles and Apelles with their Skill, One with his Carving, the other with his Quill, Could never paint your Pictures ſo perfit In Colours as I do, in black and white. This Abſtract only owns you as a Glaſs, The big Book brings you in a better dreſs.

Upon this Epitome of the Chronicle. This my Abſtract looks juſt as Janus did, Two ways, albeit my big Book doth forbid Such double dealing, clearly doth diſcover Each perſon plainly theſe three Kingdoms over, And of the King thinks it not much amiſs Unto his Councils clearly to tell this, That neither Envy, Pride, nor Power take place, As Rehoboam's Counſellours in the caſe, Who were Beardleſs Boys, but prove as you appear, To put good Counſel in your Soveraigns Ear, And ſo as Wife and Valiant Captains keep Your King ſecure, your ſelves in ſafety ſleep. All which the big Book brings abroad indeed, Though this conveys you with a ſhorter thred. Pro Aris & Focis.

NOw ſince my Muſe my mind confines, Read only theſe enſuing Lines, • or ne'rtheleſs my weeping Verſe, 〈◊〉 may be you may hear me rehearſe That of the Courſer and the Aſs 〈◊〉 Aeſop, you know how it was, To put ſuch Latin Lines in Rhime Turns to no Treaſon at this time: Then therefore take it as ye get it, • or nolens volens, I'll repeat it: 〈◊〉 learned lines and skilful Scots, • ook-bred up Boys may borrow notes: 〈◊〉 cannot miſs in metre mix it, • ene qui latuit bene vixit. 〈◊〉 love to lurk well, live well too; • oth Dives do ſo, what ſay you? My Lines are like my ſelf, I'm ſure, • oth bad, and both become obſcure: And yet though both come by the by, So many make Tautology. Though ſince again I muſt make bold To bring in both to make you ſcold: For both theſe Lines whereon you look Are both the beſt that's in my Book. You have more learning too than I, Read them, and tell me if I lye. Contemnentur ab iis quos ipſe Prius contempſere, with a whipſe; Et irridentur ab iis quos ipſe Prius irriſere, juggling Gypſie. Engliſhed. Thou ſhalt be laugh'd at, and forlorn, By thoſe thou firſt didſt ſcoff and ſcorn. But now I ſhould go ſeek a Surgeon. Theſe Lines ſo cruelly do ſcourge-on: And yet your ſelf my Judge ſhall be, Many men merit as much of me, And when my big Book goes abroad, Too late to come to kiſs the Rod. Mean time If Wealth doth vaniſh, Which Pride doth baniſh, Grieve never-ever then thereat. Irus & eſt ſubito, qui modo Croeſus erat. As Irus he is poor to day, Who did with Croeſus Coffers play. Nequa quem Si fortune me tormente, Eſperance me contente▪ If Scotch and Engliſh will not do, Take Latin and Italian too; If four will neither do nor drive, I'll furniſh French, to make them five. But leſt by Lines I lay on loads, And puzzle you by Repeating, I'll only tell of two feign'd Gods Charm'd one another by Cheating: Thus. When Jupiter, for Juno's ſake, Fell in a furious Shower, Low in her Lap, and nigh a Lake, The only way to wooe her: Even when he in his Courage came, On full account to Court her, Though he ran rudely, like a Ram, He vow'd he would not hurt her; 〈◊〉 only tell ſome merry tales, No leſs than half a ſcore, • ffirming whatſoever fails, He would have one word more. • hen Juno (though ſhe lov'd the jeſt) Call'd Jupiter a Jew, • urning her T—to him in haſt, She ſaid, Great Sir, adieu. • nd ſo ſay I, for ſhould my Muſe Make Rhimes as I make room, • hen we ſhould have enough of News, Until the Day of Doom.

Epiſtle Dedicatory. Epiſtles come firſt, but this being Curſt, comes laſt. TO all I aim at, one and other, To Learned Bards, being born a Brother. 1. At Juggling Jeſters enter I, The ſubject of my Theam, And if I cannot ſuch deſcry Let me then be by them. 2. Thouſands of ſuch are ſummon'd in, And in effect found faulty; • ejected ſo, dare not begin To plead one grain, Not Guilty. 3. Of all the ills whereat my Pen Doth point, and I believe Amongſt ſuch multitudes of men Some prove ſuperlative. 4. In Envy, Avarice, and even That ſin that ſhut the Gates Againſt the Angels; once in Heaven Deſtroying all Eſtates. 5. Pride which my Pen cannot expreſs, And malice with it mixt, Drown'd in the depth by drunkenneſs, With Sodoms ſins annext. 6. Baſe Pride that doth the Flock infect, For thoſe that over-look The Sheep, do not the ſore diſſect, They want the Scriptures Crook. 7. For when the Shepherds ſelf is ſo Puft up with Pride, the people Muſt periſh; haughty Herds- 〈◊〉 Herds you know Do ſcorn to keep the Cripple. 8. Such curſed faults confounding all, Of high and low degree, That when they come to me the names to call, My ſelf ſcapes not Scot-free. 9. For Pride ſurpaſſing in a man, Eſpecially a Preacher, Whoſe Tongue was train'd not to trepan, By being like a Lecher. 10. And ſtill to Paraphraſe on Pride, (The Pulpit moſt polluting) On ſuch when ſimple Flocks confide, The ſucceſs muſt be ſuiting. 11. But I'm inform'd you fret that I Preach in ſo poor a Pulpit, When I with Patience muſt comply, Becauſe I cannot help it. 12. And yet although you ſee me from Employment ſo ſuſpended, I doubt not but the day ſhall come Perchance King Charles may mend it. 13. However I'll now employ my powers To weigh your woes with mine, And every eight and forty hours One with the other Dine. 14. But that you have too deep a Diſh For me to dip into, Though always wallowing in your wiſh, May you indeed undo. 15. I know the Act you'r angry at, My Mote lyes in your Eye; But if you will not wink at that, Cry out then, what care I? 16. My Book's the bit whereat you bite, Though things lye therein lockt: Have ye caſt off your Courage quite, To cry before you'r knockt? 17. Will you be as the full-fed Fiſh, Snap at the ſhining Hook? And then content to have that Diſh Call'd up for from the Cook. 18. Will that within your mouth be meat, Or help your hungry maw, You cannot any of it eat, It is not from the raw. 19. Fall how it will, or well or worſe, I care not how it come; Since you for me had no remorſe, I'll make you pay the ſumm. 20. The only Anchor eaſing me, I'm not oppreſt by pelf, Nor am I ſo incenſt to ſee The Parliament it ſelf. 21. But having waſted all the Ware Which Ovid made to move her: Excuſe me, overcome with care, The Crumbs for to recover. 22. To ſhew our Soveraign Lord at laſt In lines of Lamentation, The many paſſages that paſt, To's Majeſties admiration. 23. But ſince I on no name now call, Nor clears it, though I can; Frown not, leſt your own Pride ſpoil all, So make your ſelf the man. 24. Which if? What can ye then expect, (Such works of darkneſs do) Dan. 5. 2 • But when your Carcaſe is correct, A Mene Tekel too. 25. A finger writing on the Wall, O Fool, for all thy Feaſt, Luke 12. 20, 2 • This night thy ſelf thy Soul and all, Shall trot to Hell in haſte. 26. Theſe ſayings are united now, To give the more contents, It is not that I talks to you, But both the Teſtaments. 27. Who then can get thoſe great degrees To him due, do you think? When Princes creeping on their knees, Brought Baltſhazzer Bowls to drink: 28. Though now he's on another ſcore, So ſoon ſuch mercies miſs, To day his Dignities adore, Then at his honours hiſs. • 9. But better born a lower Sail, When Boreas blew ſo high, • or Fortunes frown can caſt the Scale On others, as on I. • 0. Now he that thinks me too ſevere, Or too cenſorious either, 〈◊〉 tell him as a friend, what's fair, Let him ſay nothing rather. No ſpite (to ſpeak plain) prompts my Muſe (Though on no change they chuſe me) • ut to tell truth in Terms abſtruſe, My Conſcience could accuſe me, And make my Friends refuſe me. St. Auguſtine ſaid, Hiems Horrens, Aeſtas torrens Virent prata, vernant Sata. • heſe Notes now that are here annext, (More Moral than Divine) 〈◊〉 only take them for my Text, Words of St. Auguſtine.

A Paraphraſe upon the Words. •• ght Souls were once within the Ark, And all not righteous neither, •• ght thouſand Bodies in this Bark, Which I have raiſed rather. • hough all (whence I have buſied been) Within the ſame, I ſay, 〈◊〉 Sympathy ſhall not be ſeen, As in theſe Lines I lay. 〈◊〉 eight or four emphatick words (The ſeaſons of the Year) In which ſuch Concordance accords, As hereby doth appear. The cold concurs with ſcorching heat, Meadows grow green you ſee, Corn carry'd home, made up to eat, All things but men agree. Wherefore my Muſe ſhall move no more, Such ſores expect no Plaiſters, But ſay (as I have thought before) I ſerve unthankful Maſters. Throughout three Kingdoms, ev'n to all, I ſend my Jeſts in general.

Sonnet. My foreſaid fancies, in effect, Muſt ſuffer cenſure, I ſuſpect, Though at no Innocents I aim, My Chronicle can Knaves proclaim, So Friends may my Reflections fear, As much as Foes, where faults appear. And if you ſay my Books abuſe you, And fight with me, I'll not refuſe you For lines do link conceits ſo on it, They conſtitute a ſerious Sonnet. Nothing ill ſpoken, if not ill taken, The words themſelves will you awaken; Whoſe Emblems blazon my defence, Honi ſoit qui Mal y penſe. The piece whereof I ſo much ſpeak At Anchor lyes by London, Where Paſſengers (by Sea) fell ſick, Of ſixty not a ſound one. • ut in this ſame Epitome (As ſafe as on the ſhore) Though thouſands drown, ſome ſhall go dry, Or never truſt me more.

The Argument. 〈◊〉 the Author of the Ark, • all I rather ſay the Bark? 〈◊〉 this Fly-boat; one or another, 〈◊〉 you were my firſt-born Brother? • nd ſo faithleſs, not befriend me, • heſe fancies following will defend me. 〈◊〉 this ſtrict Abſtract moves you leſs or more, 〈◊〉 is a token ſomething toucht the ſore, • nd that aſſoon as e're the Book that bears • he Burthens out, we will be by the Ears, • nleſs the Leſſon Ovid's Art doth urge, • rincipiis obſta, prove a perfect purge: • ill then the Epitome of that good mans life, Suſtine and Abſtine. • pictetus, can only end the ſtrife. • ear and forbear, firſt bear a bit with me, • nd then forbear, ſo bad a Friend to be; • owe're, could malice tye my Tongue in Tophet, • nce more I tell you, I may prove a Prophet. 〈◊〉 tell much truth, though under waves I write, • ut my Creator can my Cauſe requite. 〈◊〉 blow on me, but better buffet them, • hat Pen lampoons for publiſhing your ſhame: • ampoons put Bells upon the Ladies Beagles. • aid in their Laps; then with the Wings of Eagles • hey range abroad, but theſe are not as thoſe, My Rhimes as yet remain under the Roſe: • hough Beagles black ſpots will neither waſh nor wither, 〈◊〉 modeſt Muſe may many ſecrets ſmother. Volumes of Verſes waſted all in vain On perſons ſo polluted and profane, Who though they are not mentioned in theſe Verſes, Dye when they will, that day I'll deck their Herſes. Their ſins are ſuch, moſt part indeed outdo Both Sodom and Gomorrha's motions too. I have recorded, as I could collect, But fail'd in my performance, I ſuſpect. I enter Item, you are owing that, And Item alſo you remember what: Then waving words, I caſt my Cyphers ſo, That I can make up Millions with an O: Add O to O, and yet with all the O's, Cannot the half of all the Debts diſcloſe They owe; and ſo ſhall leave them in Arrear, Until my Chronicle all Accounts make clear. Their Gold's their God they truſt, but I truſt to The God of Shadrach, Meſhech and Abednego.

Seria mixta Jocis. Scotland and Ireland's Conſtitutions, Diſpoſitions and Reſolutions. SCotland keeps all within it ſelf, and ſay They'r bound in Conſcience for the King to pray, But give no money; Ireland's even as ill, For there the King gets as much with their will. Scotland's an ancient Kingdome that's well known, The King, and all that's in it, is their own, And yet gets nothing. But the Generous Jeſter, Lord Forbes in Scotland his Fidler. • enkins, you know being merry with his Maſter, Said, if your own muſt faſt when others feaſt, Devil be your own, ſaid Jenkins in a Jeſt. But in the big Book I disburſe things better, Which till it comes, the King knows not his debtor. And extant once, his Majeſty makes bold By new Collectors to call off the old. Seeing none that's in it (that's a a certain thing) For nothing will ſerve neither God nor King. But keeping Ireland for themſelves, I'll ſwear't, They will be faithful Subjects, never fear't. As for my ſelf, I ſhall expect no place, There are ſuch curious queſtions in the caſe: One is, I no more muſt be call'd a Scot, Or elſe eight hundred golden Guinea's got: But then the third thing far exceedeth thoſe, What need we Fighters when we fear no foes? Old German Juſtlers were at beating beſt, Now Boys are better, Papiſts being ſuppreſt. Before my ſight four times ſix years had ſeen, Throughout ſix Kingdoms had my body been, Bore Arms in each; where ſeeing all that's there, I view'd one vice much made of every where, Ingratitude, mark'd by that deep Divine, And pious Pen-man, wiſe St. Auguſtine, Who ſurely ſaith Ingratitude's ingroſt Next to the Sin againſt the Holy Ghoſt; Which odious Ills innate in high ones here; Where I have purchaſt my Experience dear. How fare they then that do that Vice ſo wooe, For which my Muſe doth make ſo much ado? Shall they not drown in that Deluge ſo deep, Deſtroying Chriſtians, and all things that creep? Surely they ſhall, unleſs they draw advice From what I writ, for I have told them twice I have an Ark where all things are, whence I Sent out a Dove above the Floods to flye: Which Dove indeed, as Doves delight to do, Return'd, and turn'd round with a Cutry Cooe: And in her Bill an Olive Leaf did bring, Whence I obſerv'd the ſpending of the Spring. So call'd all out, where finding few but free, I did Record them in a high degree. But for the reſt whoſe Tarts upon their Tables Taſte not like trifles feigned in Aeſops Fables: On which I fed not, nor got Golden grains, Nor parings of a Pudding for my pains. If e're I had one Chip or Chaff to chew, Whence I preſume ſuch to incenſe to ſhew, And thoſe are theſe, becauſe I would conclude, To whom the Saint aſſigns Ingratitude: That take ſo much, would fain for ſhame get off, And then the giver they begin to ſcoff, Says Auguſtine. Q • i quo plus debent, magis oderunt.

The Argument. One comes, whom I Iſcariot call, (Which name denotes a Knave) By queſtions to diſcover all, But I the Thief deceive. Iſcariot came my feigned Friend at leaſt, For faithful Friends are now not in requeſt, And talkt ſo much till his Diſcourſe grew ſcarce, Wooing me then to put his words in Verſe: Some Queſtions ask'd; I anſwer'd that, That's true; And what that was, the words themſelves enſue: Reading ſome things, he ſhak'd his head, and ſays, How many Pamphlets have you penn'd in praiſe Of powerful perſons, and muſt now proclaim The cold requitals you receiv'd of them. He alſo urg'd, might he be bold to ask, Were thoſe I mention'd muffled with a Mask? Or did I court them with a Complement, Not daring to repay the puniſhment I had endured? To which I anſwer'd thus, The very words of wiſe Epictetus: Him not to hurt that hurt me, but to do In that ev'n as ſays Cicero to me too: When in thy hands thy foes to whip do lye, Shew thou them then moſt magnanimity. Says he: but leſt I ſhould my ſelf deceive, By truſting of a Counterfeited Knave, I ſaid what's ſaid is in my Chronicle, And it may choak you, if it chances ill; Adding but this, which conſtrue if you can, Your feign'd profeſſion ſhall not me Trepan. It were not fair if for ſuch faults as what They do to me I ſhould retalliate; But in a matter, though of moral truſt, To give to all in general what is juſt. Let Critical men and Momus, Take this reſolute reckoning from us. The Critick can cry out perchance Upon my Muſe and Momus, May do ſo, but one day they'll dance, Receiving ſomething from us. The bigger Book may bring a bluſh For their abuſing theſe: In it the cunning Knave I cruſh, In more emphatick phraſe. For there almoſt in every Leaf, By help of Homer's head, I ſomething have to hang a Thief, In dainty draughts indeed. To Ireland's Partners of its pelf, (Whereof though I am none my ſelf) Yet I leave them a Legacy, In theſe enſuing lines you ſee.

The Firſt Part. All Ireland is the King's, and there He keeps a multitude with care Call'd Subjects, not much Revenue To entertain ſuch Retinue. Subjects rightly underſtood, In mind and manners that were good: But when our wills are wavering, we Are not ſuch as we ſeem to be. Our King is as Kings are in Play, And Plays are alter'd every day. Miſtake me not now, ſearch your thought, And there the alteration's wrought: For though our thoughts may ſeem to vaniſh, Rebellious deeds we hardly baniſh. Our thoughts and wiſhes weigh the ſame As they were done, endeavouring them. Of Ireland too, this ſtory ſtands, The Riches are in Huckſters hands. Though none of Ireland's mine, I mean How Ireland's order'd that is ſeen. But ſpeaking much makes Parrots prate, And that's an ill I imitate: Yea, ſpeaking ſpoils men, ſome alledge, Though Poets prate per Priviledge. For my part, my Speech ſpreads ſo far, Some think me not fit for the War, But they do ſpare me to imploy; For if? they ſhould no jeſts enjoy: Nor is there fighting where we are, Young men are meeteſt for ſuch War: All old men muſt ſit ſtill and ſleep, Being only apt to catch and keep. Their actions are accordingly, As Bacchus bib abundantly. And yet they have not heard nor ſeen Me catch one Cup two Meals between. As for our feats in War, I'm ſure I fought one night near Elſhoneur, Hard work one day beſide Stateene, Trailſound, Gripswall, have you thoſe ſeen? In Pomerland, at Walagaſt, I fully fourteen days did faſt: Nor Bread nor Beef, but one dead Horſe, Green Furs to fry him, that was worſe: We boil'd his Buttocks into Baggs, From top to tail, tore all in tags. The German Ditches were ſo dry, Could get no drink if I ſhould dye. At Wallagaſt was ſo agaſt, I fought and run away as faſt: For feet whereon a ſtout man ſtands, He hath to help him as his hands. Then we march'd on I know not where, Hunger enough had to my ſhare. Through Sweedland, Poland, many places, Saw thouſands there with wither'd faces; Sea-ſick, Ship-broke, nigh drown'd one day Upon the Noſe of Noraway. For there the Sea did ſwell, I ſay, With Froth and Cold; a cruel day: Three hundred men that day were drown'd, All caſt away within the Sound. Fiſh on our Fleſh fed as a prey, And Neptune fled himſelf away. Our roaring from the Rocks redound, The Devil that day was well-nigh drown'd. But you may ſay truth will not hold, Of all, the truth muſt not be told: Yet I tell truth, if you will try, Though I am priviledg'd to lye. Elſenburg, Ʋſtate, Landſcrowne, and Malme, By them foul Fortunes did befal me; But quickly got good recompence, By Young Fro-Sophia Roſincrance. But what? unleſs you can compel, 'Twere Treaſon in my Tongue to tell. Miſtake not now my talking this, The Daniſh Dames no man dare kiſs In Complement, before another: Ladies only embrace their Brother. But that being paſt, ſhould I been drown'd, I ſwam in Shallops on the Sound, Till I arriv'd at Copenhagen, Where I did venture in a Waggon, Though ſoon began to go afoot, For want of one thing made me do't. I travell'd ſtill from Town to Town, Two days together, ne'r ſat down. Where Pompey paſt in pomp and pride, I ran, could have no Horſe to ride; Armenia, Media and Cilicia; Came capering to Cappadocia: A hundred houſes (I would wonder) So poor I could pick up no plunder, I wander'd where, I knew not how, But where I ſaw much more than you. And through all Germany did juſtle, Sometimes ſo wanton I would whiſtle. Then I reſolv'd I would go over, If I ſhould ſwim, and drink in Dover. So I came capering to Kent, Next day lo I to London went, Where I had much Command, being horſt, A Captain firſt 1642., that was the worſt; Then how I proſper'd, if you pleaſe To prove: I paſt through all degrees. In Ireland, now I'll write one wonder, How I have paſt the Pikes by plunder, Bore never Arms there, nevertheleſs Yet you ſhall ſee how Devils me dreſs; Though I in Ireland never won ought, Four hundred Knaves came out of Connaught, And in my abſence, in an hour Stript Wife and Children, did devour All things I had without, within, Left nothing but the naked skin: My Trunks, and all therein extorted, And in an inſtant all tranſported. A puniſhment perpetual, Came home unto a hungry Hall: My Wife and Children all did dye, And left me in extremity: Nor was it in a time of War, But quietneſs, as now we are. Think you then, ſince I was deſtroy'd So here, I ſhould be here imploy'd: But being not, lo I perceived How wickedly the World was waved: And for the King compos'd a Book, Wherein his Majeſty may look, And ſee things never ſeen before, I hope I need not name them more: But all ſuch ſorrows ſuffer'd I, Then turn'd my Pen to Poetry, Till I could tell you this and that, In words that you would wonder at: But if you pleaſe I ſhall ſuſpend My pratling now, and make an end: For Rhiming proves not worth a Ruſh, But Wind that's blowing in a Buſh: Though, as they ſay, if things ſo fall, Some blows may blow us over the Wall. By ſuch Oppreſſions I may ſpeed, So ſaid the Prodigal indeed, Periiſſem niſi periiſſem now, No doubt, he knew then what to do: He alſo ſaid, as I collect 'um, Vexatio dat Intellectum. And I may ſpeed, as ſome ſuſpect, For this ſame Diſtich, 'tis ſo direct; Remembring Ovid's well-read Rhime, Principiis obſta, now is the time. But I ſpeak humbly to my Prince, For words few others will convince. Envy with Eaſe, Pride, Power and Pelf, Make men take moſt upon themſelf. But all thats here is but by wording, My big Book brings a better burden; There what I wrote, I vow'd to do, In promiſe and performance too: But what remains, muſt reſt upon A mental Reſervation. But I again am gone amiſs, (So prays you in Parentheſis, To pardon me till I have wrote, Some Towns by chance I have forgot, From Amſterdam to Rotterdam, I cannot tell well whence I came: But two Towns more I'll tell to you, And then I have not much to do; Hamburg is one, Antwerp another, Then I came home to meet my Mother.)

The Second Part. Now if ſome things are here miſplac't, Receive two reaſons, Sick and Haſte, Though not ſo ſick nor haſty neither, To ſpoil my Foe, nor ſpare my Father: Be how it will, pleaſe you to read, I'll give you all theſe when I'm dead. For you deſerve no leſs at leaſt, Than feed a while upon my Feaſt: Proceed then, and conſider why I leave you ſuch a Legacy. Delivering likewiſe no ſtoln ſtory, But very real Inventory, Of all my Goods and Chattels too, And every thing I thought to do. Where I have been, what I have ſeen, And what fell often out between. I tell my Croſſes and my Loſſes, My to's and fro's, and twenty toſſes: At every bait I bite a bit, But all the holes I cannot hit: Some points I preſs as Prophecy, Which men may feel before they dye: How theſe that boaſt now of their bravery Shall ſuffer, and be ſeen in ſlavery; For though what herein I have hinted, Appear as Dreams till they be Printed. But wiſe mens Wills are prov'd by Proby, If my neceſſity ſhould ſo be; Be how it will, take notice now, By Pen or Print I'll puniſh you. Your ſelf ſhall judge, in Juſtice I Do deal with Knaves accordingly. All that I ſay and do indeed, May come to paſs, I pray take heed: May prove a day of Doom to many, And to your ſelf aſſoon as any: I ſay your ſelf, whoe're you be, But means of more than two or three: And ſo my Soul I give to God, I know my Carcaſs but a clod. Being ſure my Dictates, if I dye, Deſerve thanks of his Majeſty: For notwithſtanding Teſtament, Words, wiſhes and a long complaint: That attribute that doth belong To God, I'll imitate, if not wrong? By it being bound to wait on God, Who's long before he brings the Rod: As by theſe following words I vow, Which may fall heavy upon you. Ad poenam tardus Deus eſt, & praemia velox, Sed penſare ſolet vi graviore Moram. I'm ſo manured, ſo plow'd and puzzl'd, Much worſe than any one that's muzzl'd: My Croſſes and my Melancholy, Make me write Rhimes religiouſly. As doth appear by theſe you read, Albe't they are not mine indeed. Perpetua impietas nec menſae tempore ceſſat, Exagitat veſana quies ſomnique furentes. Neither at Bed nor yet at Board, Will great deſpair ſmall reſt afford. Now thoſe theſe touch not to the quick, With me will not a quarrel pick. Or if they do, I dare defend, And doubts not ſome may condeſcend. But leſt you ſay I run in rage, I'll end this purpoſe on this page: And ſo ſhall put no more upon it, But end my ſorrow with a Sonnet.

A Sonnet. My Teſtament conſiſts of two Parts, my falſe Friends I'll tell you how: Firſt day I fell faſt in a Feaver, Sweating as ſwimming in a River; Where all things not in order are, Though not from purpoſe very far: But then the next day you may find I had a well compoſed mind. My Tongue could tattle tales in Latin, As Prieſts can mumble mornings Mattin: For whatſoever's in the end, Both Rhime and Reaſon I'll defend: Say what you will, or no or I, If you refuſe, truth Friend you lye. Howe're I'll add no more now on it, But give you time to ſing this Sonnet. I'm ſure now had you ſuffer'd ſuch as I, And by bad carriage been conſtrain'd to cry, You would not ſtay to make the matter Metre, Though mine be bad, yours might be ſcarce compleat •• But you would ſcold, and pierce their Pride in Proſe, Rather than ſee the game go as it goes. And to retalliate, not your ſtrength reſtrain, Though I have waſted my fair words in vain. Now caſt's my cauſe (in Chronicles) between 'um, (My King and Courtiers) cloſing, Reſpice finem. Two Witneſſes make every queſtion clear, Then by that rule no man can call me Lyer; My Muſe and I did on theſe Secrets ſit, And ſo gave Sentence as we found was fit: Though here are Millions meeting at the Bar, To two conditions all reduced are: Or Good or Guilty, no party hath appeal'd, The Verdict's paſt, ſo is the Sentence ſeal'd.

Reader, My Book is now no better than a Bird, Bound to the good behaviour of a Herd, That hath it faſt between his hungry hands, As now my Book at your Tribunal ſtands, Waiting the Verdict of a dangerous dozen, Whoſe factious Fore-man faithleſly undoes one: But I deſpair not, Vertue wins reward, I play above-board when I caſt my Card. And though I do the Bargain dearly buy, The Mite belongs to millions more than I. Weigh then the words wherewith I waſte my Wit, And you ſhall ſee your ſelf concern'd in it. My main Miſtake is in my method moſt, For of my matter I may boldly boaſt, But that I venture with a hand ſo high To put advice unto his Majeſty Upon Record, things being ſo ſublime, The King can ſcarcely cure it all this time, Unleſs my Soveraign in ſuch moral matters Try by the Touch-ſtone, as we all are Cheaters, To cure the Canker, which I do implore, My Monarch may, but I dare move no more; Becauſe the fault wherein I dive, I do Repent, and yet repeats it to you too, For which on ſuch, much, though I ſo inſiſt, I'm pardon'd when the Kings hands I have kiſt.

The Concluſion. Now I'm perſwaded I preſent A piece ſo poorly polliſht, That every Babler will be bent To have my Book aboliſht: But ſince you ſee within the thing So many Authors are, And that it ſo concerns the King, If you be wiſe, beware. Beſides, if all are ſubjects, ſure I'm one amongſt the reſt: And would a Dunghil Dog endure to be by Pride ſuppreſt: No, no, the baſeſt Beaſt I'll bring That creeps, to ſcape your ſcorns; The Snail I ſay, that ſilly thing, Being hurt, ſhoots out his Horns. But to conclude with calmneſs now, (My Fleſh was in a flame) I ſhall ſay ſoberly to you, Par pari referam. Navita de ventis, de tauris narrat Arator, Enumerat Miles vulnera, Paſtor oves. Souldiers and Sailers, Shepherds, Plow-men ſpeak Of Sheep, of Oxen, Winds, Wounds, all the week; Cadgers talk too of Saddles, things to carry, So I would tell you, had I time to tarry; That in this Abſtract I'd conſeſs, but cannot, The four laſt ride, the firſt's a Souldier, ſhannot. Better been Shepherd, Cadger, Sailer, Plow-man, Than Souldier through ſeven Kingdoms; that's for you m • And me too m •

A Sonnet. Theſe Abſtracts are but as the Morning-Star, Which goes before a larger light by far: So when the big Book goes abroad, be ſure, I think you ſhall its dazzling not endure: For as a Cloud eclipſe the cleareſt Sky, The Chronicle covers the Abſtracts, that's no lye. Then happy is he whoſe Errors I omit, But who can ſay, he has deſerved it? Let me lye at Betheſda's Pool, but not Come in for cure, Knaves can keep out a Scot. Our Soveraign ſees a Rhime can render reaſon, And Solomon ſays, a thing that's ſaid in ſeaſon Is ſweet and ſure; according to my Skill, I ſay, I thank you, in my Chronicle.

A Paraphraſe upon theſe Abſtracts. Abſtracts are but the bits of good and ill, This is the Quinteſſence of my Chronicle. And Abſtracts only ſhew things but in ſhorts, Quinteſſence all within one word imports; Even ſo you can by Quinteſſence conceive The full effect, things can you not deceive. Abſtracts of Abſtracts may abſtracted be, As by this Abſtract you receive, you ſee: And ſince this Pamphlet plainly doth appear The Abſtract of three Nations now ſo near; Although I thought the ſubſtance of the thing Was more than I in ſuch a Book could bring. Now ne'rtheleſs I find I might forborn 〈◊〉 have mention'd Ireland, and my Wits not worn On ſuch a Subject, or the Subjects in it, Its Abſtract grieves me that I did begin it: Becauſe upon Experience I may ſpell Mens Sur-names, and then in an Abſtract tell Their Imperfections, and in effect afford Their faults, and fix their frailties on Record. As in a Proſpect, things do ſeem, though far, As fair as when nigh to the Eye they are. And as in Maps a man may Mountains meaſure, And in few Figures caſt up Croeſus Treaſure: So in this Abſtract though you think you ſee Motes in a miſt, yet you may truſt to me, To make each Mote much like a Mountain: All The Abſtract is, as a Partition-wall, Which I'll remove, ſo ſhall you ſurely ſee, Theſe few lines following, an Epitome Of all the pains my Prayers could not prevent, Till I proclaim'd them by this Complement. Seeing ſome here ſuch ſorrows never ſuffer'd As I, but when a fair occaſion offer'd, Although one place them certain thouſands paid; They plead for two, untill they are array'd In Robes that's rich, and till they really riſe Puft up with Pride, poor Souls to Sacrifice. Which when I ſaw their ways ſo vicious, I Imploy'd my Pen theſe praiſes to diſplay. 1. Ignoble natures, nigh, innate in all, 2. And who can me a wrong Accomptant call? 3. All are unthankful ſigns are ſeen in me: 4. And though you fret, you find your ſelf not free. 5. Wherefore for all your Pride, expect in Print, 6. Largely laid out, but whereat here I hint. 7. No Conſcience, nor firm friendſhip find I neither, 8. In many, moſt men are unrighteous rather. To ſpend more Paper, and to ſpoyl my Pen, Falſly to flatter ſuch unfaithful men: I'll not, but ſay, ſince moſt men me ſo urge: Pious St. Patrick could not ſuch people purge. Wherefore ſome ſhall be forc'd, for what I ſay, From where they are, but better been away. Turpius ejicitur, quam non admittitur Hoſpes.

To ſuch (if any are) as cenſure my ſayings. No man can act Acts humouring every ear, More than theſe humours I have acted here: If then you cenſure any Act at all That's in my Ark, or from my fancies fall: Then for that Act, lo I this Act allow, Amend my fault, e're I will fall on you. The Act being eaſie, Verſes to envy, Know I the man, I'll make the Critick cry, By heaping heavy burdens on his back, Unleſs he mend the main miſtakes I make: And I believe, had you been baffled by Them ſo, your ſelf would write worſe Verſe than I: For failing not to turn up my Abſtracts, You'll find that I was urg'd to all my Acts; And if the Act be eaſie too to try, If twenty years acts in extremity, Might tempt a man to venture words (I vow) With mine, then all my labours I'll allow, Twenty years yet, for all I'm aiming at, Would tempt few Fools, unleſs they knew for what. But were the dictates deſperate all I do, I'm tempted moſt extremely thereunto. St. Ambroſe ſays of Temptation, Nemo diu fortis eſt, by me theſe words are wrong, 〈◊〉 have ſtood out • oo long at leaſt againſt Temptation ſtrong.

The Abſtracts Apologue, And to all, the Epilogue. Abſtracts and extracts, twenty tricks I own, Three Kingdoms evil Inſtruments to make known: For juſt as Jonah preached to Ninevy, Preſſing Repentance on them all, ſo I Have plaid the Prophet, but miſtook my time, Muſt therefore reſt, rehearſing of this Rhime. At Cheſs, by chance, a pawn aſſumes the power To make the King a Captive for an hour: But then the Dwarf durſt not that draught have drawn, Had not the King put power into the pawn. So Supreme Power preciſely did imploy My Muſe, till I almoſt became a coy To train all in, and bring them to the Bar To be condemn'd, as in your Arms they are: Of whom I tell what in effect's found true, Juſtice in general without doubt is due; Even in the Abſtract ſhould I cenſure all, I durſt affirm it, whether I ſtand or fall: Only a few for faſhion I forbear, Who will prove proud when my Epiſtles appear. As Peacocks ſpread their precious Feathers when They gaze upon their glory; ſo ſome men Admire themſelves, as I admire their manners, And doubtleſs one day will diſplay their banners. Opening my Ark, and ſending forth the fraught, They'll think I reckon them Noah's righteous eight: That as I found them faithful men and free, I may requite their kindneſs unto me. But to my Prince at preſent I appeal, And humbly hereto ſet my Hand and Seal. William Mercer.

Sonnet. What Furnius ſaid unto Auguſtus, I Shall not the ſame to you ſay, leſt I lye. He heap'd ſuch grateful gifts upon his head, Furnius affirmed, he damnified him indeed: Such ſay I not, but I alledge at leaſt, Res peremptoria ingratitudo eſt: Saith of my ſelf, as Seneca ſaid before, They owe me ſo much, moſt men me abhor. So my good will is waſted all in vain, To give, not get, ſo much as thanks again. Donat in hamo, I have no ſuch lot, But think ſome Hooks are hanging in your throat. This Sonnet bids you be aſham'd to ſing The ſame, or ſee it come before the King.

To the Reader. Reader, Take notice on what tickliſh terms, I wrap wiſe men up in my Arms: And, ask you why? I'll anſwer it, With eaſe, and in a phraſe as fit: Should I ſome whom I ſpeak of, peel, And caſt in knots, even as an Eel, They are ſo ſlimy, though they ſlip Through all my fingers, with a whip Forth from this Fly-boat that they'r in, Out of my Ark, they will not win, Till I it open, then ſome there Whoſe ugly acts infect the air, Will ſay they're not (unleſs they lye) Of Noah's faithful Family: Who though ſome croſſes they eſcape, In time may taſte a tarter Grape. My Muſe on moſt men may intrude, That grieved me with ingratitude. But I have warped a Vow I vow, More than can well be woven now. Howe're as I'm a mortal man, To every Ell I'll add a ſpan. Reader, my Rhimes ſure are not ſo exact As I would wiſh, you know a ſtrict Abſtract Is ſtill abſtruſe, ill to be underſtood, Albeit the matter muſt be granted good. And though this ſmall Boat but appears a puff, My Ark's at Anchor; ſure, and ſafe enough. Though 'u Laugh, and lay this bit below your burn, Take care you cry not, when the big Books come.

Poſtſcript. In Anſwer to an Anſer. Becauſe you ask what's in my Ark, My Anſwer is, a man may mark Millions of Miſcreants, and I Anatomize them merrily: Firſt, counts the knacks of all the Knaves, Since thirty eight that's in their Graves: And then as truly tells the names Of Knaves alive, and them proclaims In clear Characters, then I come, With all the skill I can to ſome. Salutes them too, and then repeats The paſſages of three Eſtates: And yet for all the points I preſs, I ſpare ſome Knaves I muſt confeſs; Though I know the Acts they're aiming at, I take no notice now of that: But aſſoon as the game begins I'll make them laugh, at leaſt that wins, And when the big Book's brought abroad, Creep on their knees to kiſs the rod. So I have done. Adieu. Donat in hamo. Who gets a gift, he hath a hook at wiſh Within his Jaws, faſt as he were a Fiſh. But none can ſay I am not fairly free, Donat in hamo hath no hold in me.

The Argument: OR, The meaning of ſome things enſuing, And Rhimes already read, renewing, In a Sonnet. Theſe fancies (Sir) your fault affords, If you rage, reading of the words: Which words I venture to your view, The Ark and Abſtract both being true. Seeing they a proſperous, pleaſant gale Wiſh you; if friendly words avail, Read line by line, then as they lye, Apply the ſame impartially. Wherein I wooe a foe as Father, Though I ill natures win not neither: My Muſe in Rhimes muſt rather rail at Bad paſſengers, paying not the Pilot. Wherefore ſee how theſe lines alledges A proud complaint within few pages. The angry Authors ſtrange diſtractions, Strange Stratagems, and ſtrange tranſactions: His murder'd Muſe impartial praiſes Friendleſs, Faithleſs, fruitleſs phraſes: With an impartial Paraphraſe, By one that daily duly draws On Plutarchs precepts to intrude, At Ireland's ills too to allude. Of Plutarch's parallels in Proſe, At Ireland's Errors, worſe than thoſe. Of Plutarch's proud ones write one day, Of Ireland's evermore I may. Of Plutarch's ills, if any are? Of Ireland's evils too, too far. In Ireland I find few that's free, Plutarch reproves but one, I ſee. In Ireland hundreds are that hault, In Plutarch only one in fault. Ireland hath thouſands ſuch as theſe are, Plutarch but ſpeaks to one, as Caeſar: Which perſon if you would perceive, His name now in this Rhime receive, Not by the Author of the other, But made by one whom he calls Brother. Whoever it made, I'm ſure you muſt Confeſs the fancy to be juſt. Compar'd in part, read then but that Which follows: What I'm aiming at. So ſhall you gueſs as you go on, The points are preſt at every one Even in my Ark; and all I do In it, and in theſe Abſtracts too. Try when you will, you will not want Enough, though I of Coyn am ſcant. Plutarch parallels Irelands Animals, compar'd in part, Whatever follows, ſee how it falls in an illiterate Art. At Ireland's ignoble Animals here I hint, Weighs worth with perſons Plutarch puts in Print: This I have done, and find but few with whom I can compare, which makes me almoſt dumb. Rather than preſs, as could my Quill prevail To praiſe pretenders, when their friendſhip fail. Nor know I one, whoſe evil actions either Rewarded were, but yours may rout them rather: Only Demetrius, though indeed I dare Affirm your faults his to exceed by far, Who ſuffer'd, and ſuch ſorrows ſo endures For one offence, which will not weigh with yours. Look Plutarch's Lives, Demetrius liv'd at leaſt Full three years out a ſlave, eat as a Beaſt, But for one fault, which yours would weigh down now, Yet it Demetrius merits did undo. He brake his word but once with friends, when lo You brake with me from time to time, you know. I'll not apply, but this I may profeſs, God did that then, and now may do no leſs, If you repent not. Money make you, what, You cannot know, as blind as is a Bat: Come put your part then in the Scotch-man's Cap, Pull out your lot, look what you have by hap: And if this Fly-boat preſs to put you to't, Prevent the Plot, before the Ark goes out. Mean time This is moſt meet to recommend to you, Since you deſire no good at all to do, Be careful to become a Subject thrall, When lucre can as ſure enſue withal: Which doing, doubtleſs whenſoe'r you're dead, Upon your Urn this Rhime then they ſhall read: This Wretch, I vow, was worth no words of Art At all, within his Epitaph to impart, But words to draw in draughts that are not dim, That men may run, read, and remember him. The words I vow ſhall be but ſhort, however Such true words were not ſeen nor now nor never: Put to continue on Record, becauſe I'm always careful for to keep the Laws. The words indeed are no leſs ſweet than ſhort; Themſelves, I hope, will ſee me feaſted for't, For whom I ſpeak of; but I chew but chaff, Pray paſſenger peruſe the Epitaph: Which I intend to tell in terms that's true, Or Sacrifice my ſelf, I ſwear to you. Epitaph. Alas! lo here lyes one, by Nature's Law, Whoſe Second; ſure, or ſuch, you never ſaw: He rather ſuffer'd faithful Friends to fail, Than ſpare the pooreſt pairing of his nail: And then thoſe Bags, too big for him to bear, He left for them that laught to lay him here: But here he lyes, believ't, both Beef and Bone, Albe't I brag not where his Ghoſt is gone. Weigh what I write, I to my Prince appeal, Who ſoon can ſee corrupt men caſt the Scale. Traytors are true, that to themſelves take all, But queſtion'd can, from their profeſſion fall. For when ſome Subjects find their tricks detect, The King will know my Chronicle, collect Their cunning Knav'ries, wherein when they are taken, As Bullruſhes, they will with Wind be ſhaken: This Abſtract needs employ no Oedipus, Things to interpret; it ſelf renders thus, Truly to Readers; till with Hue and Cry My Chronicles come, that knows not how to lye. None do deny.

Reader. Volumes in Verſe; I with the World do venture, But you may think that I in anger enter, Becauſe I come with Ovid's very Vae! O Ingenio perii, qui miſer ipſe meo. But I dare do ſo, for this furious why, Conteſt with you, whoſe carriage makes me cry. Ovid was made too for his gift no gainer, No more am I, whoſe Verſes are not vainer: But to compare, I know proceeds of Pride, As Beggars be, when they are rais'd to ride. Ovid was alſo in priſon put for verſe, And ſo may I, becauſe my skill is ſcarce: But I forbear, my Pen's pluckt from an Owl, And I'm correct, becauſe I crept from School, Where had I ſtudied ſtill, for all I know, My Verſes would have weigh'd with Ovid's O. But I have promis'd not for to compare With Ovid, nor with any; but take care, For though I ſay I ſhall compare with none, I may with many that are dead and gone: I mean I may compare with men oppreſt, In many points one grain is not tranſgreſt. Moſt men compare, take therefore this of me, My Pen proclaims that very few are free, Eſpecially Poets compare in Poverties, Though they diſdain ſome in their Eminencies. More men than I are for their Wit envy'd, As by the Touch-ſtone ſhall be truly try'd. I never acted any ill to any, Though now my Muſe is medling with too many. My Chronicle doth theſe three Kingdoms ſcan With no more force but what my Feathers fan: But howſoever men muſt me correct, Not caring though my fancies they infect. They do poſtpone me, when preferments fall Keep officers off; Here are no Wars at all: Or if Mars march, and ſtout men ſhould be chas't, Hands helping not, quick Feet defend as faſt. For my part, I my duties daily do: Being almoſt ended, I ſhall tell you too, Follow what will, I am reſolv'd to render Some Rhimes to Caeſar, though they ſhould ſeem ſlender: And if they do ſo, ſure I ſhall not lye, They may ſeem ſerious in my Soveraigns Eye. Wherefore upon ſuch tickliſh terms I ſtand, Prevents my Prince it not, my Pate's trepann'd.

Memorandum. Theſe Fortunes fall on thoſe that moſt do merit, The braveſt brains the baſeſt lives inherit: As by theſe following four examples here, I ſhew you how falſe Fortune doth appear. 1. Bees ſuck the bloſſoms, but we have the Honey, 2. Poor men dig Mines, rich men have the Money, 3. Sheep furniſh Fleeces, and we wear the Wool, 4. Wiſe-men plant Vines, the Grapes go with the Fool. Now notwithſtanding all theſe moral matters, Whereof my Rhimes are real right relaters: Which make men proud, the Female Sexes ſwell, And fail, even as thoſe fatal fancies fall. The fair Roſe fades, and ſo flyes youth away: It grows and blows, it's Beauty in one day: So upſtart honour, and from whence it flows, Ill purchas'd pelf, how ſoon pull'd down, who knows: Take notice then, and ſhun not wiſe advice, Nor run too raſhly on ſuch ſlip'ry Ice, Bought by ſo dear a a price.

I, the Author on my ſelf, and to my ſelf, In Sonnets. Becauſe that no man praiſes me, I'll praiſe my ſelf now you ſhall ſee Two ways; one is, by Comparing; Th' other Patience, being ſo ſparing: And though mens praiſes firſt are Penn'd, I put my own praiſe at the end.

Firſt Sonnet. I, Mercer, though my skill be ſcarce, Compare with Maro making Verſe: Tell too, my tattling is not Treaſon, Though it be not good Rhime nor Reaſon: And ſays my News now from Parnaſs, Do let few faulty perſons paſs.

Second Sonnet. Compariſons to bring abuſe are bent, But theſe enſuing ſeem to give conſent: For when wiſe Maro Penn'd Mecoenas praiſe, He took not pains, as Mercer making theſe. Then Mercer's merits may with Maro's Muſe Compare in this, few men may that refuſe. Maro prais'd one, and for his praiſe was paid; Mercer to Millions praiſes hath diſplay'd, In rich Encomiums, and hath undergone (Like Mars and Maro, both combin'd in one.) For to defend what he hath Penn'd by word, Affirming he will ſign it with a Sword. So Mercer may to purchaſe modeſt praiſe, Compare with Maro in compoſing theſe. Then for which praiſe to make his Pen repine, Were not praiſe-worthy, ſaith Saint Auguſtine▪

Third Sonnet. Having plainly ſpoke to ev'ry Paroch people, I'll Ring, and Sing, this Sonnet from the Steeple. Even as the Prieſt when he hath mention'd Maſs Unto the people, proclaims and crys, alas! Remits all ſins but one, which ſin remains, And muſt, till they have paid him for his pains. So now, when I do moſt mens faults ſet forth, Cry out, and call their Conſciences ſcarce worth One wink, becauſe my Chronicle proclaims All mens unkindneſs, but conceals their names: Waiting with patience, till that they repay My pains, and then I pardon them that day. If not; themſelves, and all the heaps they handle Are cruelly curſt, both with Bell, Book and Candle. As unto many I have Muſick made, So to my ſelf theſe Sonnets now are ſaid. As Martial ſays, ſo may my Muſe in jeſt, Laſciva eſt nobis pagina, vita proba eſt. My fancy's free, for though I herein hault, I cenſure few but whom I find in fault. It always has been lawful, and will be, To ſpeak of Vice, but let the name go free. Which Law my fancy for a while fulfils Within this abſtract, but my Chronicles Set both the Title and the Sur-name too, Which I'm in pains both night and day to do. If any carping Critick now Should ſcoff in any School, One Verſe that I have written, I vow, I'll Chronicle him a Fool: But I believe if he look at The point in every place, He'll view that I have vented what Will quaſh them in the caſe.

A Farewel Sonnet. Twice twenty Terms, and almoſt every hour, I tyr'd my Pen, employing of my power To prove theſe Poems; then in all I ſay No Learning lyes, though on the points I play▪ The Latin I do grant, by gueſs I got, Cannot well tell if it be true or not, I bruis'd my brains; dare not deny indeed, But in my haſte, I have broke Priſcian's head. I play'd my part, can now not labour longer, And am afraid, ſome hang themſelves in anger. This Pamphlet I of purpoſe publiſh cheaper, My big Book's nigh nine hundred ſheets of Paper. In ſhort, beſide ſo many motions made, This Sonnet ſays now, no more ſhall be ſaid. FINIS.