THE ARRAIGNMENT
Of the DIVEL, for stealing away
PRESIDENT BRADSHAW.
To the Tune of, Well-a-day, well-a-day.
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IF you'l hear news that's ill,
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Gentlemen, Gentlemen,
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Against the Divel: I will
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be the Relator.
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Arraigned he must be,
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For that feloniously,
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'thout due solemnity,
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he took a Traytor.
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2
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John Bradshaw was his name,
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how it stinks, how it stinks,
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Who'l make with blacker fame,
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Pilate unknown.
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This worse than worst of things
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Condemn'd the best of kings,
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And what more guilt yet brings,
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knew 'twas his own.
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3
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Virtue in Charls did seem,
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eagerly, eagerly,
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And villainy in him
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to vye for glory;
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Majesty so compleat,
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And impudence so great
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Till that time never met.
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But to my Story.
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4
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Accusers there will be
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bitter ones, bitter ones,
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More than one, two, or three,
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all full of spight.
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Hang-man, and Tree so tall,
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Bridge, Tow'r, and City-wall,
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Kite and Crow, which were all
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robb'd of their right.
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5
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But Judges none are fit,
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shame it is, shame it is,
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That twice seven years did sit
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to give hemp-stringdome;
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The fiend they would befriend,
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That he might in the end
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To them like favour lend
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in his own Kingdome.
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6
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Sword-men it must be you,
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boldly to't, boldly to't,
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Must give the Divel his due,
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do it not faintly;
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But as you rais'd by spell
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Last Parliament from Hell,
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And it again did quell
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omnipotently.
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7
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The charge they wisely frame
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(on with it, on with it)
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In that yet unknown name
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of supream power.
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Which six weeks hence by vote
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Shall be, or it shall not,
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When Monks to London got
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In a good hour.
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8
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But twelve good men and true,
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Caveliers, Caveliers,
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He excepts against you,
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Justice he fears.
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From Bar and Pulpit hee
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Craves such as do for fee
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Serve all turns: for he'l bee
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Try'd by his Peers.
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9
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Satan, y'are guilty found
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by your Peers, by your Peers,
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And must die above ground,
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Look for no pity.
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Some of our Ministry,
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Whose Spir'ts with yours comply,
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As Owen, Caryl, Nye,
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For death shall fit 'ee
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10
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Dread Judges; mine own limb
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I but took, I but took.
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I was forc'd without him
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to use a Crutch.
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Some of the Robe can tell
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How to supply full well
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His place here but in hell
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I had none such.
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11
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Divel, you are an Asse,
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Plain it is, plain it is,
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And weakly plead the case;
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Your wits are lost.
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Some Lawyers will out-do't,
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When shortly they come to't,
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Your craft, our gold to boot,
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They have ingross'd
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12
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Should all men take their right,
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Well-a-day, well-a-day,
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We were in a sad plight,
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O'th' Holy Party.
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Such practice hath a scent
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Of Kingly government;
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Against it we are bent,
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Out of home-Char'ty.
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13
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But if I die, who am
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King of Hell, King of Hell,
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You will not quench its flame,
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But find it worse:
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Confused Anarchy
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Will a new torment be;
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Ne'r did these Kingdoms three
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Feel such a curse.
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14
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To our promotion Sir,
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there as here, there as here,
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Through some confused stir
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doth the high Road lie.
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In hell we need not fear
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Nor King, nor Cavalier,
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Who then shall dominere
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But we the Godly.
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15
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Truth then, Sirs, which of old
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Was my shame, was my shame,
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shall now to yours be told,
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You caus'd his death.
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The House being broken by
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Your selves (there's Burglary)
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Wrath enterr'd forcibly,
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And stopt his breath.
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16
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Sir, as our President
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taught by you, taught by you,
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'Gainst the King away went,
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most strange and new:
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Charging him with the guilt
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Of all the bloud we spilt,
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With swords up to the hilt,
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so we'le serve you.
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17
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For mercy then I call,
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Good my Lords, good my Lords,
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And Traytors I'l leave all
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duly to end it.
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Sir, Sir, 'tis frivolous,
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As well for you as us,
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To beg for mercy thus,
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Our crimes transcend it.
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18
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You must die out of hand,
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Satanas, Satanas,
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This our Decree shall stand,
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without controll,
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And we for you will pray,
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Because the Scriptures say,
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When some men curse you, they
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curse their own soul.
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19
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The Fiend to Tiburn's gone,
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There to die, there to die,
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Black is the North anon,
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great storms will be:
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Therefore together now
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I leave him and th' Gallow:
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So Newes-man take 'em thou,
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Soon they'l take thee.
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