Raree Show
Or the true Protestant Procession.
A new Ballad to the Tune of the Northumberland man.
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1.
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THis is the Cabal of some Protestant Lords
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A forging the turne that not long since they had,
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Here W------n sitteth and searcheth Records
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to find Flaws in good Statutes, & varnish the bad.
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2.
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This is the Lord Tony that slyly sits here
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Who to sham and contrive has never deny'd
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And rather then the Good Cause shou'd fall through his fear
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He'l let out Rebellion by broaching his side.
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3.
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This is Popular Perkin that smirks and looks gay
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The women extols the Spark up to the sky,
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None danceth with so great a grace, as they say,
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Yet some body thinks that he capers too high.
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4.
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Here flourishing E----- the tongue o'th Gang
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With Rhetorical Artifice fancies fine things,
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First vainly composeth a taking Harangue
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then fosters a Villain in Libelling Kings.
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5.
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Here's Docter Informant that ne'r wou'd stick out
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To traffick in Oaths or tell a State-Lye,
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Observe how he firks all the Jesuits about,
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First blaws on a Beuk, and so Papists God b--y.
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6.
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Here's Wilmore thats troubl'd with scruples & stings
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His Citizens conscience is nice and demure,
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A Traytor's Indicted for treasonable things,
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But he tells you tis false, he's a Protestant sure.
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7.
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These are some sage Cytizens that you see there,
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Who out of their Zeal all our rights to maintain
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And to keep out all slavery, have taken a care
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to put up in the streets two Posts and a Chain.
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8.
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These are some Apprentices that still do retain
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Some Tenets their Masters approve and allows,
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They come to direct a wise Monarch to Reign
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Instead of sweeping their shop and cleaning of shooes.
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9.
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This is the Committee where greivance is scann'd
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Which Remonstrates the danger that threatens the State
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Good service is here by suspicion Trapan'd
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And Allegiance is reckon'd Malignancy streight.
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10.
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Her's the Synod of Saints that will sometimes refresh
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The failings of nature with means of their own.
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They'l preach you the mortification of flesh
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With eyes up to Heaven and Breeches let down.
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11.
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These are the Cabal of the Covenantiers
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That think they maintain the Religion the best
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By pulling down Churches and their Overseers
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And routing the Defender of Faith with the rest.
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12.
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These are the Remains of the Levelling Rump
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That stink in the House and fresh Commons annoy,
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And least the right James shou'd be turn'd up for Trump
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They cry out, a Court Card will their gaming destroy.
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13.
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That Lumber of Trumpery buzzing about
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Are silly Subscribers that come at first dash,
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To make up a large Petitioning rout
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Of Link-boys and all such true Protestant trash.
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14.
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These there are the Hucksters that Treason retail,
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They'l sell you a sheet with a penniworth in't;
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That's Courantier Care that never will fail
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to scribble, whilst Langly dares Publish and Print.
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15.
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That's the Club of a Pack of ingenious friends
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that made Charles a Scotch Pedlar in the Rare show,
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And I hope that our Monarch to make them amends
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will give them a Yard of St. Johnstons or two,
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