The Old New True Blew
Protestant-Plot
Or Five Years Sham-Plots
DISCOVERED
in one True one.
To the Tune of, ------I told Young-Jenny, I lov'd her well.
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I.
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NOw Innocent Blood's almost forgot,
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We have found the Original Ground of the Plot,
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Now every Moon-Blind-Rebell may know,
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That Providence sees our Actions below.
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Now Oats for Pegs, may pack up his All's,
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And there inform his Master;
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To furnish Rooms make fire in the Hall's
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For Company that comes after.
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II.
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These are not like our Plots of Old,
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When Evidence swore for Silver and Gold.
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These are no Armies under Ground,
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No Sham Magazines that never were found,
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No Spanish Pilgrims, and Black-Bills,
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But open professed Traytors;
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Where Perjury spares the Sword it kills,
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These are our Saint-like Sayters.
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III.
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These are the Blades, detected by Laws,
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In Contempt of Justice decide it with Blows.
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These are the Blood-Hounds of our Age,
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That brought our late Monarch upon the Stage,
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Yet these more Barbarous brutes of ours,
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Would Murther both King and Brother.
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And lay the Guilt at innocent doors,
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And still continue the Murther.
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IV.
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From thence the Sacrifice begins,
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To Massacre others for their own sins:
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And this has been the Plots support.
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First made in the City, then forc't on the Court,
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But now the Mysteries brought to light,
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True Innocencie is Protection,
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Surprising Rebells dare not fight,
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Their Souls are Imperfections.
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V.
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If they had Butcher'd the Royal Line,
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To Murther its Friends they were to Joyn,
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The like was never on Record
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In the wide Wilderness of the World;
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To Rob the Kingdom of all that's Good,
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And none but Rebells Surviving,
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To Lord it o're three Notions in Blood;
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Each to be an Oliver striving.
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VI.
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The Sadle is now on the Right Horse,
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The Whiggs must mount for Tiburn in Course.
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For these can be no false Alarms,
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We have their Confession the Men and their Arms,
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Makes Catch perceive his Harvest is near
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He swears if his Horse do not fail him,
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He'll not take a thousand pound this year,
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For what his Trade may avail him.
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