Murther unmasked,
O R
BARNEVILES base Conspiracie against his owne Country, discovered: w[?]
unnaturally complotted to surrender into the Arch-dukes power, these fo[ur]
Townes, Utreicht, Nimingham, Bergen-op-zome, and Brill: Together
with his horrible intent to murther Grave Maurice, and others.
To the tune of Welladay.
|
A Ll you that Christians be
|
usefully, usefully,
|
Consider now with me
|
Gods bounteous mercie:
|
Though Truth hath bin denide
|
And Papists it defide,
|
Yet still doth it abide
|
free from suppression.
|
How many Treasons vile
|
have bin layd, have bin layd,
|
Gods pure Word to defile,
|
in every Country:
|
Yet still he keepes the same
|
From blemish, hurt, or blame,
|
And brings them all to shame
|
that fight against it.
|
What strange complots have bin
|
gainst the truth, gainst the truth,
|
Throughout the world is seene
|
t'have beene attempted:
|
Yet Christ his church wil have,
|
And his Professors save,
|
In spite of Pope, or slave
|
that would confound it.
|
Approved this may be
|
at this time, at this time,
|
By Barnviles trecherie
|
gainst the Low-countries:
|
Who with vain hopes mis-led,
|
Devis'd t'have strucke all dead,
|
And to have murthered
|
men, wives, and children.
|
He did co[nsul]t with Hell
|
impiously, impiously,
|
Their frontier townes to sell
|
to Austria's Duke:
|
To murther great and small,
|
With th'English souldiers al
|
That slept within the wall
|
of every Citie.
|
Yet here he did not stay,
|
but conspir'd, but conspir'd
|
Grave Maurice for to slay,
|
with other Princes.
|
Thus midst this bloodie broy[le]
|
He would have made a spoyl[e]
|
Of his owne native soyle.
|
without all pittie.
|
This Tyger fierce of mind,
|
mercilesse, mercilesse,
|
these townes wold have resig[ned]
|
to Tyrants power:
|
Who would have banisht th[?]
|
The Gospel shining cleare,
|
And in its stead upreare
|
trash and Traditions.
|
But this discover'd was
|
wondrously, wondrously:
|
And nothing brought to passe
|
what he inten[d]ed:
|
For God did from the skie,
|
Cast downe his watchfull eye,
|
His treasons to descrie,
|
and crosse his purpose.
|
|
|
|
|
The Second Part.
|
N Ow are his T reasons knowne
|
to his shame, to his shame:
|
And to all Statesmen showne,
|
for their example:
|
That God pursues his foes,
|
With heavie overthrowes,
|
Who doe their Hate disclose
|
gainst Gospellizing.
|
What savage Monster would
|
thus have slain, thus have slain
|
His friends; and Country sold
|
for filthy lucre:
|
Outmatcht this Deed cannot,
|
Except with Powder-plot,
|
W hich ne're will be forgot
|
till the last Judgement.
|
Of grace he had no touch
|
in his heart, in his heart,
|
But still did favour much
|
th'A rminian Faction:
|
And did his God forsake,
|
W hich him did overtake,
|
And drencht him in the Lake
|
of deepe destruction.
|
His Secretary then
|
seeing well, seeing well
|
Their damned plots made plain
|
to both their ruines:
|
Himselfe kil'd in the night,
|
W ith knife made sharpe & bright
|
So gave the divell his right
|
by his despayring,
|
You Politians all,
|
carefully, carefully,
|
Be war'nd by Barnviles fall
|
midst his foule actions:
|
See you no mischiefes weave,
|
That will your selves deceive,
|
And soules of blisse bereave
|
past all redemption.
|
And let each English heart
|
speedily, speedily,
|
From Poperie depart
|
as from fell poyson.
|
May he his birthday rue,
|
That strives for to subdue
|
The Gospell pure and true
|
in this our Nation.
|
God guide our gracious King
|
peacefully, peacefully:
|
And at the last him bring
|
to joyes eternall;
|
W here he amongst the best
|
Of Saints and Angels blest,
|
May live in joy and rest
|
time without ending.
|
So blesse our vertuous Queen
|
with this gift, with this gift:
|
That still her Fruit be seene
|
mongst us to flourish:
|
As long as Cedars bud,
|
And streames glide from the flood,
|
So long her royall Blood
|
here sway the Scepter.
|
And powre on us thy Grace
|
plenteously, plenteously,
|
To mourne while we have space
|
for sinnes committed:
|
That when Death us doth take
|
And we this world forsake,
|
We good account may make
|
at our last ending.
|
|
|
|
|