IGNORAMUS: An Excellent New Song.
To the Tune of,
Lay by your Pleading, Law lies a bleeding.
[1]
SInce Reformation
With
Whig's in Fashion,
There's neither Equity nor Justice in the Nation.
Against their Furies,
There no such Cure is,
As lately hath been wrought by
Ignoramus-Juries.
Compaction of Faction,
That breeds all Distraction,
Is at the Zenith Point, but will not bear an Action.
They sham us, and flam us,
And ram us, and damn us,
And then, in spight of Law, come off with
Ignoramus.
[2]
Oh, how they Plotted,
Brimighams Voted,
And all the
Mobile the Holy Cause promoted.
They preach'd up Treason,
At ev'ry season,
And taught the Multitude Rebellion was but Reason,
With Breaches, Impeaches,
And most Loyal Speeches,
With Royal Bloud again to glut the thirsty Leeches.
They sham us and flam us, &c.
[3]
'Tis such a
Jury
Wou'd pass no
Tory,
Were he as Innocent as a Saint in Glory:
But let a Brother
Ravish his Mother,
Assassinate his King, he wou'd find no other.
They shamed, and blamed,
At Loyallists aimed;
But when a
Whig's repriev'd, the Town with Beacons flamed.
They sham us, and flam us, &c.
[4]
This
Ignoramus
With which they sham us,
Wou'd find against a
York, to raise a
M
[...]th-amus
Who clears a Traytor;
And a King Hater
Against his Lawful Prince wou'd find sufficient matter.
They sought it, and wrought it,
Like Rebels they fought it,
And with the price of Royal Martyrs bloud they bought it.
They sham us, and flam us,&c.
[5]
At the
Old-Baily,
Where Rogues flock daily,
A greater Traytor far then
Coleman, White or
Staley,
Was late Indicted,
Witnesses cited,
But then he was set free; so the King was righted.
'Gainst Princes, Offences
Prov'd in all senses;
But 'gainst a
Whig there is no Truth in Evidences.
They sham us, and flam us, &c.
[6]
But wot you what, Sir?
They found it not, Sir;
'Twas ev'ry Jurors Case, and there lay all the Plot, Sir.
For at this season,
Shou'd they do reason,
Which of themselves shou'd scape, if they found it Treason?
Compassion in fashion,
The Int'rest of th' Nation:
Oh, what a Godly point is self-preservation!
They sham us, and flam us, &c.
[7]
'Las what is Conscience
In
Baxter's own sense,
When Int'rest lies at stake, an Oath and Law is Nonsense.
Now they will banter
Quaker and
Ranter,
To find a Royallist, and clear a Covenanter.
They'l wrangle and brangle,
The Soul intangle,
To save the Traytors Neck from the old Triangle.
They flam us, and sham us, &c.
[8]
Alass! for pity
Of this good City,
What will the
Tories say in their Drunken Dity?
When all Abettors,
And Monarch Haters,
The Brethren damn'd their Souls to save malicious Traytors.
But mind it, long winded,
With prejudice blinded,
Lest what they did reject, another Jury find it.
Then sham us, and flam us,
And ram us, and damn us,
When against King and Law you find an
Ignoramus.
LONDON: Printed in the year MDCLXXXI.