The Last WILL and TESTAMENT
OF
FATHER PETRES.
|
I.
|
IN his Holyness Name,
|
With Amen I proclaim
|
My Last Will and Testament following:
|
Who in Body am well,
|
But in Mind monstrous ill;
|
While in dismal Dispair I am wallowing.
|
II.
|
My Soul I bequeath,
|
To the Regions beneath;
|
It has long to the Devil been due:
|
To be tortur'd in pain,
|
More than I did ordain
|
To inflict on the Heretick Crew.
|
III.
|
My Body a pledge,
|
I give to the Sledge,
|
To ride on't to Tyborn in state:
|
And there in a Cart,
|
Before I depart,
|
All my Villainous Actions relate.
|
IV.
|
When the Rout I've harang'd,
|
To submit to be Hang'd;
|
And ere Dead to be cut down and Quarter'd:
|
While each Blockhead and Whore,
|
Dips a Clout in my Gore,
|
To proclaim to the World I am Martyr'd.
|
V.
|
My Politick Head
|
With my Quarters when Dead,
|
Each one to be perch'd on a Pole;
|
Thus by prophetick Spirit,
|
According to Merit,
|
I've dispos'd of my Body and Soul.
|
VI.
|
And next I declare
|
Not to mention an Heir,
|
My Executors wholly and full,
|
To Cut of all other,
|
The Spark and his Mother,
|
Who Three Politick Nations wou'd Gull.
|
VII.
|
My Funeral Charge,
|
As it will not be large,
|
So 'twill take up less Room in my Will:
|
But were it much more,
|
Since I die on this Score,
|
They'll never be troubled with Bill.
|
VIII.
|
It may do 'em both good
|
For all their High Blood,
|
'Tis full Threescore thousand Compleat:
|
As I got it by Fools,
|
So I leave it to Tools,
|
While the Church and Relations I Cheat.
|
IX.
|
My Books, tho' not many,
|
For I never lov'd any,
|
They may keep for their private Occasions;
|
They're of Riddles and Dreams,
|
From whence I took Themes
|
To furnish myself with Orations.
|
X.
|
The rest of my Stuff,
|
Since they have enough,
|
I Bequeath to a pretty young Sinner;
|
furnish a Room
|
To practise at Home,
|
And Encourage a happy Beginner.
|
XI.
|
I'll not give 'em the Trouble
|
To pay the Priests double,
|
To fetch me from Purgatory:
|
For that like the rest
|
Of our Creed, is a Jest;
|
And as true as the Song of John Dory.
|
XII.
|
For if there's a Hell,
|
I deserve it so well
|
I need not Dispair of the Place;
|
And none but an Ass
|
Will believe that the Mass,
|
Can ever restore him to Grace.
|
XIII.
|
I confess there are Fools,
|
Which our Church daily Gulls,
|
And particularly with this Notion:
|
Such as when they do Pray,
|
Know not one word they say,
|
'Tis their Ignorance helps their Devotion.
|
XIV.
|
But I am wide of my Text,
|
Being damnably vext
|
To see how the Jesuits are Fool'd;
|
And your Prospects of Peace
|
Do's my Torments increase,
|
More than loosing my Life and my Gold.
|
XV.
|
On our Brotherhood all
|
May my last Blessing fall,
|
And on every Monk, Friar and Priest;
|
May they ere 'tis too late
|
Partake of my Fate,
|
And become every Hereticks Jest.
|
XVI.
|
I wou'd have Enlarg'd,
|
But my Conscience discharg'd,
|
I'll here make an End of my Sermon,
|
And wish all this Throng
|
May be damn'd, Old and Young,
|
And so drive away Honest Carman.
|
|
|
|
|
|