ENGLAND'S Remembrancer, For the Late Discovery of the Horrid PLOT:
Found in a Meal Tub, by Sir William Waller
One of his Majesties Justices of Peace for Middlesex.
The Design of the Papists in this PLOT was, to put it off themselves, and lay it upon the Presbyterians: making them the Designers of the Change of Government, and the Murderers of his Majesty,
&c.
EXperience shews whilst
Godfrey lived here,
No formidable PLOT durst 'ere appear,
But what was quel'd as soon as well begun,
And made apparent unto every one,
In such clear Demonstration, that 'tis plain
He was the Coach-man to great
Charles his Wain.
And safely did secure from Popish Plots
All poor distressed threatned
Hugonots:
Since whose inhumane Murder, Our great God
Hath rais'd our Foes, full, as severe a Rod;
A man whose sharp prodig'ous piercing Eye,
Can plainly see their utmost Treachery.
And knows full well with such great Knaves to deal,
Witness the Papers found in Tubs of Meal.
That
Roman scarlet
Whore, he now will maul her,
This we expect from good S
r
William Waller.
A PLOT contriv'd 'gainst
Presbyterian Blood,
Whose
Innocence the World hath understood.
A PLOT forg'd by the chief of this great
CITY!
And no man Punish'd, it is great Pity!
A PLOT contriv'd and no man knows yet what,
This is a
Romish Devil of a
PLOT.
But thanks to GOD, รด KING, and
Wallers care,
Their hidden Engines now discovered are,
For what they on this City would have lay'd,
Is by his Circumspection betrayed;
GOD'S Providence, and
Wallers studious care
Hath laid the Bottom of their Secrets bare:
And shews their Plot's of so deform'd a hew,
As none dare own, but the bold
Roman Crew.
Who neither fear their GOD, Honour their KING,
Their
Romish Principles teach no such thing,
Slaughter and Murder are the only Books,
In which each
Romanist devoutly looks,
And nothing is by them more understood
Than shedding
Protestant (though
Princely) Blood.
Though thanks to God their
Devilish Romish Sport
Hath not as yet prevail'd upon the Court:
All Sovereign Princes are e'n Sacred things,
Tis Dang'rous medling with the Thrones of Kings.
And we still hope, whilst
Waller lives we may
Find out those Drifts designed to betray
Both KING and Kingdom, I, and Nation too,
At one Blood-thirsty and revengeful Blow.
And not inferior is great LONDON'S Mayer,
Who to detect the same took no less Care,
When once the 'Curst Discovery began,
And his great Wisdom did each Matter scan,
Nothing like this e'r reach'd the Heart of Man.
It did appear so foul, none present knew
How to believe the things, there sworn were true;
Until their
Dangerfield declared, He
Would make appear what he did Certify.
All that remains is only fervent Pray'r
For his Majesties prosperous well-fare,
Sir
William Waller, and our good Lord Mayer.
We praise our God, though
Papists did design
On
Protestants to cast this Dismal Crime.
So good hath our GOD been, to turn the Story
To their great
Infamy and his great
Glory.
Let therefore ENGLAND now once more rebound
With joyful Eccho's that may tear the Ground,
In Memory of his Great Mercy shown,
Than which, a greater scarce was ever known.
Cease then ye bloody minded Papists, cease,
Your only way will be to live in Peace:
Accept the Mercies of our Gracious KING,
Lest you do go to Heaven in a String:
Then 'twill be late Repentance, now you may
Have Mercy offer'd while it's call'd to day.
If this fair Proffer you reject, 'tis just
Ketch should conclude your Lives, and so he must.
LONDON, Printed in the Year, 1679.