The Bloody Bed-Roll: Or,
Treason displayed in its Scarlet colours.
Being a Discovery of the most notorious Plotters, and Grand Conspirators, of a company of Rebellious Subjects, not to be parallel'd in all Ages. With a list of the Names of the chief Actors; And the Sentence of Terrour Pronounced against them for their
TREASONABLE DESIGNS.
OLd OLIVER's gon to the dogs,
Oh! No I do mistake,
He's gone in a Wherry
Over the Ferry,
Is cal'd the
Stygian Lake.
But
Cerberus that Great Porter
Did read him such a Lecture,
That made him to roar
When he came a shoar
For being
Lord Protector.
News, news, news,
Brave Cavaliers
be merry,
Chear up your sad souls
With Bacchus
Bowls,
Of Claret, White, and Sherry.
Where is that Cursed Crew
That far on the Kings grand Jury,
By thy damned soul
Go fetch them
N
[...]l
Quoth
Pluto in his fury.
Where is old
Joan thy wife,
Her Highness I would see,
Come let her in
She shall be my Queen,
For a Cuckold thou shalt be.
News, news, &c.
Make room for a
Ramping Lady
One of the Devils race,
This ugly Witch,
And nasty Bitch,
Spot in the King's sweet face.
I'le make her a Lady of honour,
Quoth
Pluto let her in,
And open the door
For this old Whore
Shall wait upon my Queen.
News, news, &c.
Here comes Sr. HENRY MARTIN
As good as ever pist,
This wenching beast,
Had Whores at least
A thousand at his list:
This made the Devils laugh,
So good a friend to see,
At
Pluto's Court
There's beter sport,
Come thou shalt dwell with me.
News, news, &c.
Bid
Caron bring his boat,
Here comes a man of fame,
Who hath waited here
Above a year,
JACK BRADSHAW is his name.
O ho quoth
Pluto then,
As loud as he could yawl,
By
Olivers Nose
I did suppose
Thou hadst been at
White-Hall.
News, news, &c.
Thou'rt welcome to my Court,
Here on my scroul I find,
I have in store
A thousand more
As Arrant Rouges behind.
Why art thou sad quoth
Pluto,
My servants must appear,
Then do not grudge
I'le make thee Judge
Of all my subjects here.
News, news, &c.
Here comes a Friend of mine,
Make room for the Lord LISLE,
His guests at last
Did come so fast
That made old
Pluto smile.
Thou must along with me,
Now 'tis too late to rue it,
Thy damned soul
Is on my Scroul
Remember Doctor
Hewet.
News, news, news,
Brave Cavaliers
be merry,
Chear up your sad souls
With Bacchus
Bowls
Of Claret, White, and Sherry.
What is the cause Sir ARTHUR
Your Pulses go so quick?
'Tis Bishops Lands
That's in your hands
Which makes them beat so thick.
The Oath of Abjuration
Was for a worser thing,
For the Devil and thou
Did study how
We should abjure the KING.
New, news, &c.
Next comes Sir HENRY MILDMAY
As good as ever twang'd,
What Laws had we
When he scap'd free
And honest men were hang'd?
Perhaps the KING's good grace
May pardon what is past,
But that's all one
At
Pluto's Court,
Thou must appear at last.
News, news, &c.
Shall
Traytors be conceal'd?
Oh! no Sir HENRY VANE,
'Tis a pittiful thing
That our good KING
That Traytors are in grain.
If thou wilt take the pains,
Then pray thee go and look,
For I am told,
Thou art enrol'd
In
Pluto's bloody Book,
News, news, &c.
Here comes the
Learned SPEAKER,
Whose baggs of Gold do rust,
Who would not hear
A
Cavalier
Though his cause were nere so just,
Corruption bears the sway
Where Justice is deni'd,
The Devil take him,
And Mr. PIM,
And likewise Colonel PRIDE.
News, news, &c.
Make room for Sir JOHN HEWSON
A
Lord of good account,
'Twas a pretty Jest
That such a Beast
Should to such honour mount.
When
Coblers were in fashion,
And
Pigherds in such grace,
'Twas sport to see
How PRIDE and he
Did justle for the place.
News, news, &c.
What dreadful shew is this?
'Tis PRIDEAUX or his Ghost,
He makes such hast,
And comes so fast,
I think He's riding Post.
A
Lawyer if thou art,
Amongst the damned souls,
At
Pluto's Barre
'Tis better farre
Then pleading at the Roles,
News, news, &c.
Make room for Dr. PETERS,
And Cornet JOYCE also,
One of these twain
The worst that came
Was he that gave the blow:
One of these
Cursed Rogues
Was he that did the feat,
But some men say
'Twas the Lord GRAY
That made the work compleat.
News, news, &c.
A Boat for this Old
Doctor
To crosse the River
Styx,
For
Pluto he
Desires to see
Some of his Antick tricks.
My
Chaplain thou shalt be,
What more can be desir'd?
Oh! no quoth be
That cannot be
My Lease is not expir'd.
News, news, &c.
Oh! my
Rump, my
Rump, my
Rump,
My
Rump smells wonderous strong,
The blisters rise
About my Thighs
With voting here so long,
My
Rump is grown so sore,
I can no longer sit,
Hold up thy Bum,
The Devil is come
With a Plaister to cure it.
News, news, &c.
Whea
Pluto keeps his feast,
His servants must appear,
And Mr. SCOT
I had forgot,
Must tast of his good Chear.
Find out the man quoth
Pluto,
That is the greatest sinner,
If COOK be he
Then COOK shall be
The
Cook to
Cook my dinner,
News, news, &c.
God blesse the
KINGS good grace,
And keep him from his foes,
I wish the rather
Because his
Father,
Had too too many of those.
God bless the
Duke of
YORK,
His
Sister and
another,
Accurst be those
That do oppose
The welfare of his
Mother.
News, news, news,
Brave Cavaliers
be merry,
Chear up your sad souls
With Bacchus
Bowls,
Of Claret, White, and Sherry.
Printed at Oxford by L. Litchfield; And re-printed at London, for general satisfaction.