The Second Part to the same Tune;
OR,
An Answer to the Lady of Qualities POPISH BALLAD of the POPISH PLOT.
Like you my Song, or like it not,
I sing the downfall of the PLOT;
The PLOTTERS Characters I shew,
The Devil by his Paw you'l know.
God bless our KING, our CHURCH preserve,
Whilst Traitors have what they deserve.
To the Tune of PACKINGTON'S POUND.
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1.
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SInce Hell is broke loose, and the Press set a work
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By Jesuit, by Jew, by Christian and Turk;
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By Fools and by Fops, by Rascals and Knaves:
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By counterfeit Ladies, and by scribling Knaves:
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Each Mome and each Sot
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Now talks of the Plot,
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Some cry it is true, and some swear it is not:
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New Fire-balls in Pamphlets and Ballats are hurl'd,
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To cajole the People, and amuse the World.
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2.
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And among all the rest, there starts up for one,
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A Priest under Petticoats, Jesuit Joan,
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Who, in a lewd Ballad, does sing a loud Lie,
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And to o'erthrow the Plot by fooling would try:
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And though very bold,
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The Plotters she told,
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The trick is too stale, the design is too old;
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For no honest man in whom Reason doth dwell,
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But scents the Pope's breath, and the foul stink of Hell.
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3.
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The People deceiv'd by Jesuitical Glasses,
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No longer now will be ridden like Asses;
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They won't be deceiv'd by their old foolish Lies,
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But the Plot and the Plotters see with their own Eyes:
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For it is too plain,
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For all their false Train,
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The Plot was first hatch'd in a Jesuitical Brain:
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And you shall without Romish Spectacles see,
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Who both the Contrivers and Actors still be.
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4.
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A Politick States-man that doth all confound,
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Who the head of all true Religion does wound;
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Who was the first Rebel that e'er did rebel,
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And who still advances all Traitors in Hell:
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The Father of evil,
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And named Don Devil,
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A very Fanatick, though he can seem civil;
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Of this wicked Plot first laid the close Train,
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And the Cockatrice hatch'd in a Jesuits Brain.
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5.
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The Politick States-man in Council did sit,
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With Legions, to find out some Instrument fit;
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And picking and choosing, he form'd a whole Rabble,
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Who stink at St. Omers like Goats in a Stable:
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Their Fortunes were low,
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The Devil did know,
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The Bate of Preferment he therefore did show:
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He adopted these Tools to give the Train fire,
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For which some receiv'd a Rope for their hire.
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6
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The next he prepar'd was a proud prating Knave
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Who long pli'd the Court, to great Ones a Slave;
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He, fed with great hopes, kept up a great Table,
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For Money from France did make the Knave able;
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He went and he ran,
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Did many Trepan,
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And for the Pope's sake a whole Nation did ban:
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He lost his Reward if he gaped for Wooburn,
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For he with an Halter was Sainted at Tyburn.
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7.
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Like Rat in a Chamber another he found,
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Who had from the Fathers got many a pound;
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This Pick-lock of Law, to be the Book-drudge,
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Was made, with great hopes, at last to be Judge:
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He loved Applause,
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Perverted the Laws,
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And filled with Zeal he grew stout for the Cause:
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Lest Drawing and Hanging should not make him Martyr,
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He lash'd his own Back like a terrible Carter.
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8.
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The next were five bloody and murderous Fellows,
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Who tempted by Money, made haste to the Gallows.
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By whose cruel hands a brave Hero did fall,
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Sufficiently prov'd, though deni'd by them all;
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Give the Devil his due,
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The Treasurer too,
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He has sins of his own, and needs none of you:
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The Knight being slain, fled the Men of the Church,
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And left the poor Lay-men to hang in the lurch.
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9.
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The next a grave Gown-man in terrible form,
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Who with a strong breath doth blow up this storm;
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He thunders, he tears, he rants and he roars,
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To turn all Heretical Kings out of doors:
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He makes a great rout,
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And hunts all about,
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To turn all Religion and Sanctity out;
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Both Bishop and Presbyter he'll turn to Grass,
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To bring in his Idols, and set up the Mass.
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10.
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Thus both the Contrivers and Actors you see,
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They are not meer shadows, but really be;
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But 'twas their ill fortune, and our good lot,
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Or rather Gods Mercy confounded their Plot:
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What e'er Ladies sing,
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They murder'd one King,
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And now to confusion another would bring:
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God bless our good King, and long may he Reign,
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And Jesuits be hanged if they Plot again.
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