No Protestant Plot, Or, The Whigs Loyalty:
With the Doctors New Discovery.
To the Tune of, Burton House, Or, Londons Loyalty.
Entred according to Order.
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[I.]
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HELLS restless Factious Agents still Plot on,
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And Eighty Three smells rank of Forty One;
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The Royal Martyrs Foes pursue his Sons,
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Who seek their Lives with Blunderbuss and Guns:
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The Infernal Regicides so inflam'd with Zeal,
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Are for Killing King, and Duke, t' Erect a Common-weal;
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This is the Dayly Trade and Practice of our Modern Whiggs,
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Tho' they're always baffled in their Damn'd Intrigues.
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[II.]
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What! Ho! cryes Titus, rise ye sleepy Heads,
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Unless you'l all be Murder'd in your Beds;
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Fierce Hannibal of France is at your Gate,
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Come Rascals, Mutiny e're it is too late:
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The Spanish Pilgrims, once hir'd to cut your Throats,
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Are Landed now at Milford Haven, believe your Saviour Oates;
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And the Horrid Popish Army, that were hid under Ground,
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Are, I'le take my Oath, within a Trumpets Sound.
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[III.]
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See there, a Fighting Army in the Air!
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But now it vanishes, and disappears;
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A Spectre told strange Things to Honest Bess,
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Which much amaz'd the Hatfield Prophetess:
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I told 'em true at first, what Black Designs would be
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Carry'd on against the King, and Royal Albany,
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By the discontented Whiggs; but Rebel Tony since,
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Made me contradict my former Evidence.
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[IV.]
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I've lost my Swearing Trade, now by this Hand,
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Must I be forc'd to starve, or leave the Land;
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My injur'd Prince has long since on me frown'd,
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For Perjuries against his Life and Crown:
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I'le follow Rumbold, Wade, Nelthorp, Walcot, Hone,
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With that Cruel Blood-Hound Burton, who've all fled the Town;
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For if I tarry here much longer, I harbour dreadful Fears,
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That I shall be Hang'd, or forfeit both my Ears.
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[V.]
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Unparallel'd Assassines, that could dare
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To attempt the Life of Joves Vice-Gerent here:
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Of whom the Gods do take such special care,
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None ought to mutter Treason to the Air;
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But cut-Throat Protestants may do anything,
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And Inform the Roman-Catholicks how to Murder Kings;
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They take it in great Dudgeon to be equaliz'd for Villany,
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Yet their Hellish Crimes must pass for Loyalty.
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[VI.]
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But thanks to Heaven, who did curb their Power,
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And has preserv'd us from that Fatal Hour:
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When Villains were to Massacre us all,
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And Nolls Successors to possess White-hall;
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Rumsey has taken up New-gate for his Bower,
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And the Lord Russel is gone to fortifie the Tower:
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Whilst we that stand for Church and State, with great security can Sing,
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And Pray Jove to preserve the Life of Charles our King.
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