A TURN-COAT of the Times.
Who doth by experience profess and protest,
That of all professions, a Turn-Coat's the best.
Tune is, The King's Delight, Or, True Love is a Gift for a Queen.
AS I was walking through
Hide-Park as I us'd to do,
some two or three months ago
I laid me all along
Without any fear of wrong,
And listen'd unto a Song;
It came from a powdered thing
As fine as a Lord or a King,
he knew not that I
was got so nigh,
And thus he began to sing.
I am a Turn-coat Knave,
Although I do bear it brave,
and do not shew all I have,
I can with tongue and pen
Court every sort of men,
And kill 'em as fast agen.
With Zealots I can pray,
With Cavaliers I can play:
with Shop-keepers I
can cogg and lye,
And couzen as fast as they.
When first the Wars began,
And Prentices lead the Van,
'twas I that did set them on,
When they cryed Bishops down,
In Country, Court and Town,
Quoth I, and have at the Crown,
The Covenant I did take,
For form and fashions sake,
but when it would not
support my plot,
'Twas like an old Almanack.
When Independency,
Had superiority
I was of the same degree;
When Keepers did command,
I then had a holy hand
In Deans and in Chapters land:
But when I began to spy,
Protectorship drew nigh,
and Keepers were
thrown o'er the Bar;
Old Oliver then cry'd I.
WHen Sectarists got the day
I used my yea, and nay;
to flatter and then betray,
In Parliament I gat,
And there a Member sat,
To tumble down Church & State,
For I was a trusty trout
In all that I went about
and there we did vow
to sit till now,
But Oliver turn'd us out.
We put down the house of Peers,
We killed the Cavileers,
and tippl'd the widows Tears
We sequestred mens Estates,
And made 'em pay monthly rates
To trumpeters and their mates.
Rebellion we did Print,
And altered all the Mint;
no knavery then
was done by men,
But I had a finger in't.
When Charles was put to flight
Then I was at Wor'ster fight
and got a good booty by't
At that most fatal fall
I killed and plundered all,
The weakest went to the wall,
Whilst my merry mates fell on,
To pillaging I was gone,
there is many (thought I)
will come by and by,
And why should not I be one.
We triumphed like the Turk,
We crippled the Scottish Kirk
that set us at first to work,
When Cromwell did but frown
They yielded every Town,
St. Andrew's Cross went down
But when old Nol did dye,
And Richard his Son put by,
I knew not how
to guide my plow,
where now shall I be thought I.
I must confess the Rump
Did put me in a dump,
I knew not what would be trump
When Dick had lost the day
My gaming was at a stay,
I could not tell what to play,
When Monk was upon that score
I thought I would play no more
I did not think what
he would be at,
I ne'er was so mumpt before.
But now I am at Court,
With men of the better sort
and purchase a good report;
I have the eyes and ears,
Of many brave Noble Peers,
And slight the poor Cavileers,
Poor knaves they know not how,
To flatter, cringe and bow,
for he that is wise
and means to rise,
He must be a Turn-coat too.
Printed for William Thackeray at the Angel in Duck-lane.