The charge they wisely frame
(On with it, on with it)
In that yet unknown name
Of supream power;
While six weeks hence by vote
Shall be or it shall not,
When Monk’s to London got [48]
In a good hour.
But twelve good men and true,
Caveliers, Caveliers,
He excepts against you;
Justice he fears.
From bar and pulpit hee
Craves such as do for fee
Serve all turns, for he’l be
Try’d by his peers.
Satan, y’ are guilty found
By your peers, by your peers,
And must die above ground!
Look for no pity;
Some of our ministry,
Whose spir’ts with yours comply,
As Owen, Caryl, Nye, [49]
For death shall fit ’ee.
Dread judges, mine own limb
I but took, I but took,
I was forced without him
To use a crutch;
Some of the robe can tell
How to supply full well
His place here, but in hell
I had none such.
Divel, you are an asse,
Plain it is, plain it is,
And weakly plead the case;
Your wits are lost.
Some lawyers will outdo’t,
When shortly they come to’t;
Your craft, our gold to boot,
They have ingross’d.
Should all men take their right,
Well-a-day, well-a-day,
We were in a sad plight,
O’ th’ holy party!
Such practise hath a scent
Of kingly government,
Against it we are bent,
Out of home char’ty.
But if I die, who am
King of hell, King of hell,
You will not quench its flame,
But find it worse:
Confused anarchy
Will a new torment be;
Ne’r did these kingdoms three
Feel such a curse.
To our promotion, sir,
There as here, there as here,
Through some confused stir
Doth the high-road lie;
In hell we need not fear
Nor King nor Cavalier,
Who then shall dominere
But we the godly?
Truth, then, sirs, which of old
Was my shame, was my shame,
Shall now to yours be told:
You caused his death;
The house being broken by
Yourselves (there’s burglary),
Wrath enter’d forcibly,
And stopt his breath.
Sir, as our president,
Taught by you, taught by you,
’Gainst the King away went
Most strange and new;
Charging him with the guilt
Of all the blond we spilt,
With swords up to the hilt,
So we’le serve you.