To make us as famous in council as wars,
Here’s Lenthal a speaker for mine—
And Fleetwood is a man of Mars,
Which no body can deny.
’Tis pitty that Nedham’s [71] fall’n into disgrace,
For he orders a bum with a marvellous grace,
And ought to attend the Rump by his place,
Which no body can deny.
Yet this in spight of all disasters,
Although he hath broken the heads of his masters,
’Tis still his profession to give ’em all plasters,
Which no body can deny.
The Rump’s an old story, if well understood;
’Tis a thing dress’d up in a Parliament’s hood,
And like ’t, but the tayl stands where the head should,
Which no body can deny.
’Twould make a man scratch where it does not itch,
To see forty fools’ heads in one politique breech,
And that, hugging the nation, as the devil did the witch;
Which no body can deny.
From rotten members preserve our wives!
From the mercy of a Rump, our estates and our lives!
For they must needs go whom the Devil drives,
Which no body can deny.
A PROPER NEW BALLAD ON THE OLD PARLIAMENT;
OR,
THE SECOND PART OF KNAVE OUT OF DOORS.
To the tune of
“Hei ho, my honey, my heart shall never rue,
Four-and-twenty now for your mony, and yet a hard penny-worth too.”
(Dec. 11th, 1659.)—From the King’s Pamphlets, British Museum.