The Catholick Ballad:
OR AN
INVITATION
TO
POPERY,
Upon considerable Grounds and Reasons.
To the Tune of 88.
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SInce Popry of late is so much in debate,
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And great strivings have been to restore it,
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I cannot forbear openly to declare,
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That the Ballad-makers are for it.
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Wel dispute no mor[e] then, these Heretical men
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Have exposed our Books unto laughter,
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So that many do say, twill be the best way
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To sing for the Ca[u]se hereafter.
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O the Catholick Cau[se]! now assist me my Muse,
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How earnestly do I desire thee!
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Neither will I pray [t]o St. Bridget today,
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But only to thee to [i]nspire me.
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Whence should Purity [c]ome, but from Catholick Rome
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I wonder much at your folly?
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For St. Peter was th[e]re, and left an old Chair,
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Enough to make all [t]he world holy.
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For this sacred old Woo[d] is so excellent good,
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If our Doctors may [b]e believed,
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That whoever sits there needs never more fear
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The danger of being [d]eceived.
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If the Devil himself sh[o]uld (God bless us) get up
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Though his nature w[e] know to be evil.
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Yet whilst he sate there, a[s] divers will swear,
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He would be an Infa[lli]ble Devil.
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Now who sits in this Seat, but our Father the Pope?
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Which is a plain Demonstration
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As clear as noon-day, we are in the right way,
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And all others are doomd to Damnation.
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If this will not suffice, yet to open your Eyes,
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Which are blinded with bad Education;
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We have Arguments plenty, and Miracles twenty
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Enow to convince a whole Nation.
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If you give but good heed, you shall see the Host bleed,
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And if any thing can persuade ye,
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An Image shall speak, or at least it shall squeak
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In the honour of our Lady.
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You shall see, without doubt, the Devil cast out,
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As of old by Erra Pater;
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He shall skip about and tear like a dancing Bear
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When he feels the Holy Water.
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If yet doubtful you are, we have Reliques most rare,
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We can shew you the sacred Manger;
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Several Loads of the Cross, as good as ere was
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To preserve your souls from danger.
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Should I tell you of all, it would move a stone-wall,
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But I spare you a little for pity,
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That each one may prepare, and rub up his Ear,
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For the second part of my Ditty.
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The Second Part to the same Tune.
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NOw listen again to those things that remain
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They are matters of weight, I assure you,
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And the first thing I say, throw your Bibles away,
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Tis impossible else for to Cure you.
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O that pestilent Book! never on it more look,
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I wish I could sing it out louder:
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It has done more men harm, I here boldly affirm
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Than th Invention of Guns and Powder.
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As for matters of Faith, believe what the Church saith,
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But for Scripture, leave that to the Learned;
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For these are edge-tools, and you Lay-men are fools,
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If you touch them yare sure to be harmed.
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But pray what is it for, that you make all this stir?
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You must read, you must hear and be learned:
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If youl be on our part, we will teach you an Art,
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That you need not be so much concerned.
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Be the Churches good Son and your work is half done,
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After that you may do your own pleasure:
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If [your] Beads you can tell[,] and say A[ve] M[ar]y well
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Never doubt of the Heavenly Treasure.
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For the Pope keeps the Keys, and can do what he please,
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And without all peradventure,
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If you cannot at the fore, yet at the back Door
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Of Indulgence you may enter.
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But first by the way you must make a short stay,
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At a place called Purgatory,
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Which the Learned us tell, in the Buildings of Hell,
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Is about the middlemost Story.
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Tis a monstrous hot place, and a mark of disgrace
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In the torment ont long to endure:
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None are kept there but fools, and poor pitiful souls
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Who can no ready money procure.
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For a handsom round sum you may quickly be gon,
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For the Church hath wisely ordeind,
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That they who build Crosses, and pay well for Masses,
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Should not there be too long deteind.
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So that tis a plain case, as the nose in ones face,
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We are in the surest condition,
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And none but poor fools, and some niggardly owls
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Need fall into utter perdition.
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What aileth you then, you then, O ye great and rich men,
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That you will not hearken to reason,
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Since as long as yhave pence, yneed scruple no offence,
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Be it Murth[e]r, Adultery, Treason.
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And ye sweet-naturd Women, who hold all things common,
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My addresses to you are most hearty,
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And to give you your due, you are to us most true
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And we hope we shall gain the whole party.
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If you happen to fall, your Penance is small,
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And although you cannot forgo it,
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We have for you a Cure, if of this you be sure
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To confess before you go to it.
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There is one Reason yet which I cannot omit,
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To those who affect the French Nation,
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Hereby we advance the Religion of France,
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The Religion thats only in fashion.
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If these reasons prevail (as how can they fail?)
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To have Popery entertaind,
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You cannot conceive, and will hardly believe,
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What benefits hence may be gaind
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For the Pope shall us bless, (thats no small happiness)
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And again we shall see restored,
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The Italian Trade, which formerly made
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This Land to be so much adored.
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O the Pictures and Rings, the Beads and fine things,
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The good wordes as sweet as honey,
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All this and much more shall be brought to our dore
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For a little dull English money.
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Then shall Justice and Love, and whatever can move
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Be restored againe to our Britain.
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And Learning so common, that every old woman,
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Shall say her Prayers in Latin.
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Then the Church shall hear sway and the State shall obey,
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Which is now lookt upon as a wonder,
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And the proudest of Kings, with all temporal things,
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Shall submit and truckle under.
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And the Parliament too, who have taken us to do,
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And have handled us with so much terror,
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May chance on that score (tis no time to say more)
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They may chance to acknowledge their error.
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If any man yet shall have so little wit,
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As still to be refractory,
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I sware by the Mass, he is a meer Ass,
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And so theres an end of my Story.
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