Ots's Lamentation AND A VISION that appeared to him since his Tryal: Over heard by one of his Keepers in his Chamber: at the
Kings bench,
A SONG
To the Tune of
State and
Ambition.
I.
A Due to my Title, of Saviour o'th' Nation
My Forty Commissions and
Spanish Black Bills,
My Twelve pounds a week and all hopes of Salvation,
Six Dishes a day which my
Demons oft fills:
Now
Oats must be whipt through each County o'th Kingdom
In each Corporation in
Pillory, must stand,
Out-face the Contempt of all Christians, and when done,
Must turn home for
Tyburn, to hang and be Damn'd.
II.
I no God nor Devil believed nor feared,
Until since my Tryal one Night in the Goal,
A Legion of Fiends in my Chamber appeared
There over my Brazenfac'd Conscience did quale
They shewed all my Actions, my Bums and my Postures
As we us'd to scamper on Flock-beds and Flours;
How I am the worst of all
Sodomites Bastards,
I stuck to my Bums and kickt out all the Whores.
III.
Then
Whitebread and
Fenwick, brave
Gavin and
Harcourt,
Turner and
Pickering, Coleman and
Langorne
Ireland, Grove Staely; I deserve to hang for't,
And
Stafford came bleeding and in the same form
Their heads in their hands, they quite round me removed
Blood sprung as from Fountains, where their heads had stood,
This Vision with horror my Conscience reproved
They left all my Chamber besmeared with Blood.
IV.
No Mercy from God, nor from Man I can hope, for
Abus'd both my Country, my God and my King,
The Destruction of all I most falsely have sworn for
The most Loyal Families to ruin I did bring,
Yet am so Case-hardned; I cannot repent it,
My soul is swelled bigger than it was before:
Black Treason or Murther, I still would attempt it,
Where I to be Damn'd▪ and hang'd at the Door.
V.
Toney and
Sidney were first that Employ'd me,
Sent me to St.
Omers a Plot for to find;
They found me a Fool for their turn when they'd try'd me,
Zounds, I all the while left the Plot here behind,
Which Three parts o'th' Nation with
Toney had signed,
Resolv'd to Rebel and our King to dethrone;
But his Stars by providence ours hath out-shined,
And left me like a Rogue to be hang'd all alone.
VI.
Twenty from St.
Omers all proved me Perjur'd,
And Fifty from
Staffordshire made it as plain;
Ireland dy'd wrongfully to my souls hazard,
And all that I swore against dyed the same;
Besides, my own Evidence came in against me,
Call'd me Rogue, and spiller of Innocent Blood;
Yet still I'll deny all to save those Advanc'd me,
Whose party maintains me with Gold, Drink & Food.
VII.
Then he like a Hogg fell to snorting I left him,
Ty'd up with his Irons and his bloody black soul,
Content to be Damn
[...]d as Old
Ton
[...]y had taught him,
For Perjured Murther, no Fiend e're so foul;
Yet he must be hang'd for the honour o'th' Nation
That Innocent Blood may not threaten the Crown
Of the King or Queen
Mary, the Worlds Admiration,
Whose
Scepter shall flourish and ne're tumble down.
FINIS.
LONDON; Printed for James Dean, Bookseller in Cranborn-street, near Newport-House in Leicester Fields, 1685.