Hells Master-piece discovered: Or Joy and Sorrow mixt together. Being a breife and true Relation of the Damnable Plot, of those invetrate Enemies of God, and the King; who intended to a mixt our Joy for the Nativitie of Christ, with the blood of the King, and his faithfull Subjects. Being a fit Carrall for Royallist to sing, That alwaies fear God, and honour the King. To the Tune of, Sommer time.
|
YOu Loyall Subjects all give eare,
|
unto my sad and joyfull Song;
|
A true Relation you shall heare,
|
For unto you it doth belong.
|
The Devill and his Instruments,
|
hath long been Plotting night and day,
|
For to destroy both King and Church,
|
and now they thought they found the way,
|
They would cut down both Root & Branch
|
and all the Shrubs that doth belong,
|
About our Royall Garden plot,
|
as Fences to our Ceader strong.
|
The chiefe Ring-leader of this Plot,
|
is Mazarine as I do understand,
|
The chiefest Enemie to our King,
|
when bloody Cromwell ruld this Land.
|
These Saint like Devils would bring in
|
the French or who they else could find,
|
To ruine King and Kingdome too,
|
for to revenge their bloody mind.
|
For in this Plot they did intend,
|
by fire and Sword to make their way,
|
Throughout the City to the Court,
|
and all they met for to destroy.
|
They would a saved the King they say,
|
but make him yeild unto their will,
|
To Sign or Grant what they desired,
|
or else be sure they would him kill.
|
The Queen, the Duke, and Proginie,
|
and General Monck should all a dyed,
|
With most of the Nobility,
|
and all the Royall part beside.
|
Those that they Caveliers did call,
|
but little mercy should have found,
|
And I beleive that for their King,
|
their herts with swords both fals to grond.
|
I hope theres mo[r]e that now wears swords
|
for to defend his Majestie,
|
If ever he should in danger be,
|
For quarter now they scorn to cry.
|
The number in this Devilish Plot,
|
it is not known, nor cannot be,
|
But seventeen thousand as tis thought,
|
should first begin this Masacree.
|
No doubt but desperate theyd been,
|
if God had let them int alone,
|
And thus those Saints, they call themselts
|
by blood would make the Land their own
|
|
|
|
|
The second Part, to the same Tune.
|
This Devilish Plot was carried on,
|
tis thought in all the Kingdome round,
|
So secret are they, now tis know
|
not may of them pet are sound.
|
A Porter at first discovered all,
|
which once was Servant unto White,
|
Which White was Major once of foot
|
at Portsmouth nare the Isle of Wight.
|
Ho did belong to Morley too,
|
that kept the Tower a little while,
|
What side theyre for thers none doth know
|
for every five they did beguile.
|
All the Grand Rebels of the Land,
|
which many thought was ore in France,
|
Was here in London as tis thought,
|
this Hellish Plot for advance.
|
Theres Ludlow, Whaley, and Baxster too,
|
with Okey & Hewson that single eyd theif
|
With the Devil of the west cald Disbrow,
|
and Overton these were the chiefs.
|
But Overton and Disborows tooks,
|
and bath are fast enough in hold;
|
Squier Dun never fears to charge them all
|
for all they think themselves so bold.
|
Theres thousands is this Land I feare
|
to whom the King doth mercy shew;
|
They are resolved for to be hangd,
|
whether his Grace he will or no.
|
Examples you see every day,
|
on most the Gates here in the City,
|
Now you have hangd your Masters up,
|
Dun vowes on you heel take no pitty.
|
And if your troubled still (he saith)
|
with the greedy worm still in your brains,
|
Heel case you ont in half an houre,
|
or else have nothing for his pains.
|
But af your Friend I do desire
|
Youd pray to God to guid your hearts.
|
To fear the Lord and love your King,
|
and then youl act true Subjects parts.
|
If God had no reveald this Plot,
|
a bloody Christmass had besell.
|
Then civily pray drink on pot,
|
to one we oft for to love well.
|
The Porter tis, who under God,
|
preservd the King, land all his Peers.
|
Be sure heel never be forgot.
|
by honest Royall Caveliers.
|
|
|
|
|