A New Ballad of the Protestant Joyner.
Or of Colledges Lamentation,
since his Condemnation.
Tune of Tony, Or, How unhappy in love is Philander.
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[1]
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THe Protestant Joyner is carried
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To Oxford to take his degree,
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And there it is said will be married
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All under the Willow-green Tree.
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For since his Accomplishes faulter,
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Jack Ketch has provided a Halter
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For those that did blame us;
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And went for to sham us:
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Will find that the Bill was not Ignoramus.
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[2]
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He's swell'd up with Treacherous Sedition,
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And now of Rebellion is sick,
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He wants the Fore-man his Physitian
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To find out some Pollitick trick,
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For he Good-man's in the Tower,
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And now lies beyond the power
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Of Whig, or of Shrieve,
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To give him Reprieve,
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Or Counsel him how himself to Retrieve.
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[3]
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May now all the Presbiter Faction
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Look sad at this Colledges fate,
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Who was Master of Arts in Transaction,
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To make Tony Head of the State:
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Since Libell's accounted witty,
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He published throughout the City,
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To blow up the fire
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Of Ambitious desire,
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For which in a Halter he's now like t' expire.
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[4]
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The Judges were kind to the Prisoner,
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And granted what e're he desired,
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He had Presbiter, Priest, and Tapster
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To speak what e're he Required:
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He had whate're he propounded,
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Yet was by the witness confounded,
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For the Priest disappears,
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Through scoffs, and through jeares,
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& shrunk out of the Court like a Rat without ears.
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[5]
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Twelve men of the best of the County
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Were chosen to bring in the Fact,
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They scorn'd a Reward or a Bounty,
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Since for God and King Charles they did Act,
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They brought him in guilty of Treason,
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For which all the Judges shew'd reason,
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Then after being Cast,
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His Sentence was past,
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For the Halter's the first, & the Fire the last.
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[6]
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He now does begin to repent him,
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And wishes he'd ne'r been a Fool,
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But made use of the Talent was lent him;
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Not work'd with so dangerous a tool:
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So wretched a Sott ne'r man saw,
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He's cut to Death with his Hand-Saw,
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This, this is the fate,
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When fools to be great,
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will venture their lives to be Members of State
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[7]
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This Rascal who lived well in London
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And could not be Planeing at home,
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But is by his foolery undone,
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And to Execution must come:
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He thought to have been Head of the Colledg,
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But that was beyond his knowledge,
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Thus fools who aspire,
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Will fall in the Mire,
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And still do come short of what they desire.
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[8]
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God preserve Great Charles and his Councill,
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And see that to Sentence they bring,
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All Traytors that do pronounce ill,
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Or talk of so Gracious a King:
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May they all by their Plots be confounded,
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Both Papist, Whigg, and Round-head,
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And bring them to shame,
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Who speak ill of his name,
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for he's our King that the world does proclaim
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