EBBA 35657

Beinecke Library - Broadsides By6

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THE
RECANTATION
Of a Penitent
PROTEUS
Or the
CHANGLING,
AS It was Acted with good Applause in St. Maries in Cambridge, and St. Pauls in London, 1663.
To the Tune of Doctor Faustus.

ATtend good people, lay by scoffs and scorns,

Let Roundheads all this day pull in their horns,

But let Conformists and brave Caviliers

Unto my doleful Tone prick up their Ears.

Take from my neck this Robe, a Rope's more fit,

And turn the Surplice to a Penance-Sheet,

This Pulpit is too good to act my part,

More fit to preach at Tyburn in a Cart:

There I deserv'd t'have taken my degree,

And Doctor Dun should have presented me,

There with an hempen-hood I should be sped,

And his three-cornered Cap should crown my head.

Here I am come to hold up guilty hand,

And of the Beast to give my self the Brand,

Here by confessing I have been i'th wrong,

I come to bore my self through my own Tongue.

In learning my poor Parents brought up me,

And sent me to the Universitie,

There I soon found bowing the way to rise:

And th' only Logick was the Fallicies.

Instead of Aristotles Organon,

Anthems and Organs I did study on,

If I could play on them, I soon did find,

I rightly had preferment in the Wind,

I followed that hot sent without controul,

I bow'd my body, and I sung Fa Sol;

I cozen'd Doctor Couzens, and e're long

A Fellowship obtained For a Song.

Then by degrees I clim'd until I got

Good friends, good Cloths, good Commons, and what not

I got so long, until at length I got

A Wench with Child, and then I got a Blot.

Before the Consistorie I was try'd,

Where like a Villain I both swore and ly'd

And from the Whore I made, I was made free,

By purging of my self incontinent LEE.

But as I scorn'd to Father mine one Brat,

'Twas done to me as I had done with That

The Doctors all when a Doctor I would be,

As a base Son, refus'd to Father me,

With much adoe, at length by art and cunning,

My Tears and Vows prevail'd with Peter Gunning.

Me to adopt and for his love and care,

I will devout my self to Peter's Chaire.

Cambridge I left with greif and great disgrace,

To seek my fortune in some other place;

And that I might the better save my stake.

I took an Order and did Orders take.

Amongst Conformists I my self did list

A Son o'th Church as good as ever pist.

But though I bow'd, and cring'd, and crost and all,

I only got a Vicaridge very small.

E're I was warm (and warm I ne're had been

In such a starved hole as I was in)

A fire upon the Church and Kingdom came;

Which I strait help't to blow into a flame.

The Second Part.

MY Conscience first like Balaams Ass, was shie,

Boggled, and winc'd, which when I did espie

I cudgel'd her, and spur'd her on each side,

Until the Jade her paces all could ride.

When first I mounted on her tender Back

She would not leave the Protestant dull Rack,

Till in her Mouth the Covenant Bitte I got,

And made her learn the Presbyterian Trot.

'Twas an hard Trot, and freted her

The Independant Amble easier was, alas

I taught her that, and out of that to fall

To the Tan tivy of Prelaticall.

I rode her once to Rumford with a pack

Of Arguments for Covenant on her back.

That Journey she perform'd at such a rate

Th' Committee gave me a rich piece of Plate.

From Hatfield to St. Albans I did ride,

The Army cal'd for me to be their Guide,

There I so spur'd her that I made her fling

Not only dirt but blood upon my King.

When Cromwell turn'd his Masters out by force;

I made the Beast draw like a Brewers horse,

Under the Rump I made her were a Crooper,

And under Lambert she became a Trooper.

When Noble Monk the King did home conveigh,

Shee (like Darius steed began to Neigh.

I taught her since to Organ Pipes to Prance,

As Bankes his Horse could to a fiddle dance,

Now with a Snaffle or a Twyned Thred

To any Government shee'l turn her head

I have so broke her she doth never start,

And thats the meaning of my broken heart.

I have found out a cunning way with ease

To make her cast her Coat when e're I please;

And if at Rack and Manger she may be,

Her Colts Tooth Shee will keep most wanton-LEE.

Ile change as often as the Man i'th Moon;

His frequent Changing makes him rise so soon,

To eat Church Plum-broth e're it all be gone,

I'le have the Devils spoon but Ile have One.

For many years my Tongue did lick the Rump;

But when I saw a King was turn'd up Trump,

I did resolve still in my hand to have

One winning Card, although 'twere but a Knave.

If the great Turk to England come, I can

Make Gospel truckle to the Alchoran;

And if their Turkish Saboaths should take place.

I have in readiness my Friday Face.

If lockt in Iron Chest (as we are told)

A Loadstone their great Mahomet can hold:

The Loadstone of preferment (I presage)

To Mahomet may draw this Iron Age.

The Congregation way best pleas'd my mind;

There were most Shees, and they most free and kind.

By Chamber practise I did better thrive

Then all my livings though I Skimmed five.

Mine eyes are open now my sins to see,

With tears I cry Good people pardon me,

My Reverend Fathers pardon I do crave,

And hope my Mothers blessing yet to have.

My Cambridge sins, my Bugden sins are vile,

My Essex sins, my sins in Ely-Isle,

My Leicester sins, my Hatfield sins are many,

But my St. Albans sins more red than any.

To CHARLES the first I was a bloudy Foe,

I wish I do not serve the second so,

The onely way to make me leave that trick,

Is to bestow on me a Bishoprick.

This is St Andrews Eve and for his sake

A Bishoprick in Scotland I could take;

And though a Metropolitan there be;

I'de be as Sharpe and full as Arch as he.

Now may this Sermon never be forgot,

Let others call't a Sermon, I a Plot,

A Plot that takes if it believed be,

If not I shall repent unfeigned LEE

I must desire the Crack-fart of the Nation,

With Reverence to let fly this Recantation,

Our Names ty'd taile to taile make a sweet Change

Mine onely is Strange Lee, and his Le-Strange.

FINIS.

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EBBA 35657