Bred up in Troubles which they wish, not fear,
They'd fain disturb our peaceful quiet here.

They're gr[i]ev'd that Brittain's Sun doth never chear,
With his bright rays, their Northern atmosphere.
But shining by reflection from afar,

Let's them be govern'd by a lesser Star.
Still, for the Kirk, they Prelacy despise
And call it Popery in a new disguise.

They've heard how Knox and his Genevian crew
Of old the Royal Diadem overthrew :
And now they long to see those days again,
Brave days, when Saints did over Princes raign!
These Causes thus concurring all in one,
Joyn'd with a Nature to Rebellion prone,
No wonder if from that Tempestuous Sky
Storms to disturb our Neighbour's quiet fly.

Conclusion.

Thus, Painter, have we seen from whence arose
The fatal Series of our former woes;
Nought's left; but first to meditate, then tell
How far those times and ours run Parallel.

To the KING.

190

[Orig. misp." and hours."

Great Charles, against whose Crown on either hand
Rome and Geneva all their forces band,
Thou seest what clouds the Airy Regions fill;
Stand firm; the time's now come to shew thy skill.
In Calms each Passenger the Ship may guide,
By Winds and Storms an artful Pilot's try'd.
Keep fast the Helm! on either side to err,
Is alike dangerous, in the middle stear.
This People, common Father, hold on still
To do them good, although against their will.

201

210

What real Prudence dictates, that pursue,
But slight the Murmurs of a giddy crew.

Thus had thy Father done, we ne're had known

A Tyrant sitting on the Royal Throne.

Thus may thy Reign just, long, and prosperous be,
Thou in thy Subjects happy, they in thee.

FINIS.

[No woodcut or printer's name. Date of purchase marked by Narcissus Luttrell on his copy (Luttrell Collection, II. 93), “2 Feb. 1673"]

"Stands Scotland where it did? Alas! poore Countrey." 603

Note to l. 177:-The Battle of Flodden in 1513, and that of Pinkey-cleugh, or Musselboro'-field near Edinburgh, in the time of the protector Somerset, 1547.

Memorable are the lines 170 to 195 describing Scotland and Scotsmen, in their harsh clime and with their savage clan-antagonisms, their Calvinistic exclusiveness, and their wrongheaded politics. Ever prone to rebel against and murder their kings from the earliest time, although they did not slaughter Charles the First they sold him for money to his English murderers. Some of the libellous satires of the anti-Popish-Plot time flung insults against the whole race of Stuarts, and, out of mere spite, gave praise to Queen Bess and the Tudors; forgetting that she held no more mercy in her withered breast than did her bigotted sister Mary, or their ruthless and sensual father bluff King Hal. The attack here made on the Scots may be accounted illiberal, of course, but we must remember the provocation given, past and present, by the rebels of the Covenant. Worthy successors are these bitter lines to John Cleaveland's unforgotten satire on "The Rebel Scot," in the old Civil-War :

ar:

Nature her self doth Scotchmen beasts confesse,
Making their Countrey such a wildernesse . .

A Land where one may pray, with curst intent,

O may they never suffer banishment!'

Had Cain been Scot, God would have chang'd his doom,

Not forc'd him wander, but confin'd him home.

Other satirists there were, and many, who dealt unstintedly their blows against the wrangling Sectaries, the Scottish emissaries of sedition and discontent, whose bigotted creed insulted true Religion, in its presumptuous denunciation of older and more reverent faiths. Strong only for destruction, but weak for union, they seemed, in their warfare against the superstition of Rome and the moderation of the English Church, to proclaim the reversal of the early saying: "Behold how these Christians hate each other." One writer (in Wit and Mirth, 1684) says,

The Pox, the Plague, and each disease,
Are cur'd though they invade us;
But never look for Health and Peace
If once Presbytery invade us.

When every Priest becomes a Pope,
Then Tinkers and sow-gelders
May, if they can but 'scape the Rope,
Be Princes and Lay-Elders.

If once the Kirk-men pitch their Tents
With our Assembly-Asses,
Synods will eat up Parliaments,
Courts be devour'd by Classes.

Look to't Gentry, else be Slaves,

To Slaves that can't abide ye;

Though ye have been cow'd down by Knaves,

O let not Fools now ride ye!

Another Satyr, beginning "Sit or sit not, by Law or Sword," revived a silly slander about Mary Queen of Scots (but erroneously named Bothwell instead of Rizzio), and declared that

Triennial Laws with resolution

Can cure that plague of Dissolution.

Let Rowley know unto his face,

If Law and Justice can't take place,

We'll quit the Land of Bothwell's Race.

The Ballad of the Cloak.

"Godfrey's sore-grieved Ghost weeps bloody Tears,
Seeing you drawn by jealousies and fears,
To act those things which murd'ring sorrow bears.
Is it so long since, that you have forgot?
Can you so soon wash out that Royal Spot
Of Sacred Innocent Blood; bring back to mind
Murd'ring the Sire, then to the Son be kind,
And say again your Zeal had made you blind?
Let not Religion's Cloak your bodies cover,
And under that both Prince and Countrey smother,
To make your selves more hateful, and less good,
Than Lucifer and his Rebellious Brood."

-Last Speech of Sir Edmundbury Godfrey's Ghost.

THE Cloak is here used as symbolical of the Presbyterian; the

Gown probably representing the Established English Churchman. We have already, on p. 250, met the ballad entitled "Religion made a Cloak for Villainy," the date of which must have been about 1681 or 1682. The exact date of the Satire against Presbyterianism, which is generally known as "The Ballad of the Cloak," or "The Cloak's Knavery,' ," is not yet ascertained, and may have been a few years earlier, nearer to the Restoration. But if not originally written in 1679, it was assuredly in favour and reprinted within a short time after that year, and we believe that, although Hypocrisy had long used Religion as a Cloak for Villainy, there was a special run on the phrase in 1681, and that most of the ballads employing it belong to this particular year.

As to the tunes named on next page, they both refer to Packington's Pound. It has been frequently mentioned (see pp. 193, 316). "From hunger and cold who lives more free is 66 The Song of the Jovial Beggars," in Richard Brome's Jovial Crew, Act i. 1641:

Rom hunger and cold who lives more free,

FRO

Or who lives a merrier life than we?
Our bellies are full, and our backs are warm,
And against all Pride our rags are a charm;
Enough is a feast, and for To-morrow
Let rich men care, we feel no sorrow.

The City, and town, and every village
Afford us either an Alms or a Pillage,
And if the weather be cold and raw,
Then in a Barn we tumble in straw:

If fair and warm, in yea-cock and nay-cock,
The Fields afford as a hedge, or a hay-cock.

[Roxburghe Collection, III. 394; IV. 32; Bagford, I. 78; III. 8.]

The Ballad of the Cloak;

Or,

The Cloak's Knavery.

TO THE TUNE OF, [From] Hunger and Cold; or, Packington's Pound.

Com

YOme buy my new Ballet, I have't in my Wallet,
But 'twill not, I fear, please ev'ry Pallet.

Then mark what ensu'th, I swear by my youth
That every line in my Ballad is truth:

A Ballad of wit, a brave Ballad of worth,

'Tis newly printed, and newly come forth.

'Twas made of a Cloak that fell out with a Gown,

That crampt all the Kingdom, and crippl'd the Crown.

I tell you, in brief, a story of Grief,

Which happen'd when Cloak was Commander-in-Chief:
It tore Common-Prayers, imprison'd Lord Mayors;
In one day it Voted down Prelates and Players.

It made People perjur'd in point of Obedience,

8

That cramp'd all the Kingdom, and crippl'd the Crown.

16

Then let us endeavour to pull the Cloak down,

It was a Black Cloak, in good time be it spoke,
That kill'd many thousands, but never struck stroke :
With Hatchet and Rope, the [Saints'] Forlorn Hope,
Did joyn with the Devil to pull down the Pope:
It set all the Sects in the City to work,
And, rather than fail, 'twould have brought in the Turk.
Then let us endeavour to pull the Cloak down,

That cramp'd all the Kingdom, and crippl'd the Crown.

It seiz'd on the Tower-guns, those fierce Demi-Gorgons,
It brought in the Bag-pipes and pull'd down the Organs:
The Pulpits did smoak, the Churches did choak,
And all our Religion was turn'd to a Cloak:

It brought in Lay-Elders could not write nor read,
It set Publick Faith up, and pull'd down the Creed.
Then let us endeavour to pull the Cloak down,

24

That crampt all the Kingdom, and crippl'd the Crown.

32

This pious Impostor such Fury did foster

It left us no Penny, nor no Pater-noster ;

And set up twice twenty times ten of its own.
It routed the King, and Villains elected

It threw to the ground Ten Commandements down,

To plunder all those whom they thought disaffected.
Then let us endeavour to pull the Cloak down,

That crampt all the Kingdom, and crippl'd the Crown.

40

To blind People's Eyes, this Cloak was so wise,
It took off Ship-money but set up Excise;
Men brought in their Plate, for Reasons of State,
And gave it to Tom Trumpeter and his Mate:
In Pamphlets it writ many specious Epistles,
To cozen poor Wenches of Bodkins and Whistles.1

Then let us endeavour to pull the Cloak down,

That crampt all the Kingdom, and crippl'd the Crown.

48

In Pulpits it moved, and was much approved,

For crying out" Fight the Lord's Battles, beloved!"
It Bob-tayl'd the Gown, put Prelacy down,
It trod on the Mitre to reach at the Crown:

And into the Field it an Army did bring,

To aim at the Council, but shot at the King.
Then let us endeavour to pull the Cloak down,
That crampt all the Kingdom, and crippl'd the Crown.

56

1 See previous Notes on p. 251, and the first on the opposite page to this.