A SATYR AGAINST IN-JUSTICE: OR, Sc—gs upon Sc—gs.
1.
A Butchers Son (Judge) Capital,
Poor Protestants for to enthral,
And
England to enslave, Sirs.
2.
Lose both our
Laws and
Lives (we must)
When to do Justice, we intrust
So known and errand Knaves, Sirs.
3.
Some hungry Priests he once did fell
With mighty Stroaks, and them to Hell
Sent furiously away, Sirs.
4.
Would you know why? The reason's plain;
They had no English nor French Coyn
To purchase longer Stay, Sirs.
5.
The Pope, to Purgatory sends
Who neitheir Money have (nor Friends;)
In this he's not alone, Sirs.
6.
Our Judge to Mercy's not inclin'd,
Unless Gold change Conscience and Mind,
You are infallibly gone, Sirs.
7. His Father, once exempted was
Out of all Juries; VVhy? Because
He was a man of Blood, Sirs.
8.
And why the Butcherly Son, forsooth,
Should now be Judge and Jury both.
Can't well be understood, Sirs.
9.
The good old man, with Knife and Knocks,
Made harmless Sheep and stubborn Ox
Stoop to him in his fury.
10.
But the Brib'd Son, like greedy Auff,
Kneels down and worships Golden Caff;
And so did all the Jury.
11.
Better hadst been at Father's Trade,
An honest Livelihood t'have made,
In hampering Bulls with Collers,
12.
Than to thy Country prove unjust,
First sell, and then betray thy Trust
For so many hard Rix-dollers.
13.
Priests and Physician, thou didst save
From Gallows, Fire, and the Grave;
For which we can't endure thee.
14.
The one can ne'er absolve thy Sins,
And th'other, though he now begins,
Of Knavery ne're can cure thee.
15.
But lest we all should end thy Life,
And with a keen-whet Chopping-knife,
In a thousand pieces cleave thee,
16.
Let th' Parliament first him undertake,
They'll make the Rascal stink at Stake;
And so like a Knave let's leave thee.
FINIS.