A New Narrative
OF THE
OLD PLOT.
A SONG: To the Tune of, Some say the Papists had a Plot.
|
I.
|
WHen Traytors did at Popery Rail,
|
because it taught Confession,
|
When Bankrupts bawl'd for Property,
|
and Bastards for Succession:
|
When Tony durst Espouse the Cause,
|
Spight of his Pox and Gout,
|
When Speaking Williams purg'd the House
|
by Spewing Members out.
|
II.
|
When Hunt a Twifort-Pamphlet wrote,
|
the Emblem of his Soul,
|
When Oats swore whom he pleas'd in's plot
|
and Reign'd without Controul:
|
When L------ce Lampoon'd the Court,
|
and Libel'd Cats and Dogs,
|
When Witnesses like Mushroomes sprung,
|
out of the Irish Boggs.
|
III.
|
Then Perkin thought 'twas time to prove,
|
his claim to Kingship-Fair,
|
And faith 'tis fit the Peoples Son,
|
should be the Peoples Heir:
|
So fill'd with Zeal he and his Knight,
|
Carress'd and Court the Rout,
|
And my Lord Duke goes up and down,
|
to shew his Grace about.
|
IV.
|
Tho' F----d Lord G---y would not ingage,
|
upon that idle score,
|
For he would have a Common-Wealth,
|
as well as Common Whore:
|
He envy'd his Old Friend a Crown,
|
but why I can't devise,
|
For's Grace had grac'd his Lordships head,
|
with Horns of Noble size.
|
V.
|
Likewise his Patron Zeal grew high;
|
th' Exclusion to advance,
|
And the Right Heir must be debar'd,
|
for fear of Rome and France:
|
The Zealous Commons then resolv'd,
|
and they knew what they did,
|
By whomsoever King should fall,
|
The Papists Throats should bleed.
|
VI.
|
So murth'ring Poniards oft are slipt,
|
into a Guiltless Hand;
|
And Innocence is sacrific'd,
|
whilst Malefactors stands:
|
By Hells assistance then they fram'd
|
their damn'd Association,
|
And worthy Men, and Men worthy,
|
divided all the Nation.
|
VII.
|
Fools oft and Mad-Men leave the less,
|
and chuse the greater Evil,
|
Thus for fear of POPERY,
|
run headlong to the Devil:
|
At last these Loyal Souls propose,
|
to ease their Soveraigns Cares,
|
If he'l sit down and first remove
|
their Jealousies and Fears.
|
VIII.
|
Just the Old trick and sham-Device,
|
of Belzebub their Sire,
|
If he'l fall down and Worship them,
|
they'l grant his hearts desire;
|
Nay, Lives and Fortunes then shall be
|
intirely all his own,
|
If he will fairly once disclaim
|
his Brother and a Crown.
|
|
|
|
|
|