Murder Out at Last,
IN A
Ballad on the New PLOT.
To the Tune of, Hey Boys up go We.
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I.
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NOw, now the Plot is all come out,
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That caus'd our Doubts and Fears,
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And all the Tribe that made the Rout,
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Both Commoners and Peers;
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The mighty Patrons of the Cause,
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Pagan Popery,
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Who rais'd a Gibbet for our Foes,
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And hey Boys up go we
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II.
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With Sanctify'd Religious Zeal
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The Brethren did agree
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To raise our Ancient Commonweal
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On Christian Liberty:
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To undermine the Church and State,
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And blow up Monarchy;
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But now, alas! 'tis our own Fate,
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And hey Boys up go we.
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III.
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A Holy Covenant we took,
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To Sacrifice the KING,
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And next to him the Royal DUKE,
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A Bl[ood]y Offering;
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F[or which,] according to the Vote,
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[The Pa]pists all shou'd dye;
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[But now t]he Saints have chang'd their note,
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[And hey] Boys up go we.
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IV.
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[Our Zealous] Covenanting Saints,
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[Associati]ng Peers,
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[Each heart] for fear with Patience Pants,
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[To lose m]ore than his Ears;
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[Toneys dead,] and Monmouths fled,
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[The Helm] is turn'd a Lee,
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[The Plot (th]e Nail) is knock'd o'th' head,
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[And hey t]hen up go we.
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V.
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No longer may the Papists boast
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Their Bloody Black Designs;
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Old Rome thy Ancient Glory's lost,
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For all thy Learn'd Divines:
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For Royal Murders, Treasons base,
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And matchless Trachery,
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The Jesuits must now give place,
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And hey Boys up go we.
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VI.
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How well did we contrive the Plot,
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And laid it at their Door,
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For which old Stafford went to Pot,
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And many Guiltless more:
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But now the Tide is come about,
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The truth of all we see;
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And when the Murder all is out,
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Then hey Boys up go we.
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VII.
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Rumseys Gold, and Rumbold bold,
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Conspire to kill the KING,
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And Pickering in fatal hold,
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Must answer for the thing;
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Nethorp, West, and all the rest,
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With Perkin may agree,
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To be o'th' Tower and Throne possest;
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Then hey Boys up go we.
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VIII
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Our City Ryots, Countrey Routs,
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That to Rebellion tend,
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Our Races, and Our Hunting-bouts,
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In Insurrections end;
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The Rebel now is catch'd i'th' Snare
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He lay'd for MONARCHY;
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At last the Gallows claims its share,
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And hey Boys up go We.
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