To the Tune of, Well-a-day, well-a-day

1.

If you'l hear news that's ill,
Gentlemen, Gentlemen,
Against the Devil: I will
Be the Relator.
Arraigned he must be,
For that felloniously,
'Thout due solemnity,
He took a Traytor.

2.

John Bradshaw was his name.
How it stinks, how it stinks,
Who'l make with blacker fame,
Pilate unknown.
This worse than worst of things
Condemned the best of Kings
And what more guilt yet brings,
Know 'twas his own.

3.

Vertue in Charles did seem,
Eagerly, eagerly,
And villainy in him
To vye for glory;
Majesty so compleat,
And impudence so great
Till that time never met,
But to my Story.

4.

Accusers there will be
Bitter ones, bitter ones,
More than one, two, or three,
All full of spight.
Hang-man and Tree so tall,
Bridge, Tower, and City-wall,
Kite and Crow, which were all
Robb'd of their right.

5.

But Judges none are fit,
Shame it is, shame it is,
That twice seven years did sit
To give Hemp-string dome;
The fiend they would befriend,
That he might in the end
To them like favour lend
In his own Kingdom.

6.

Sword-men it must be you,
Boldly to't, boldly to't,
Must give the Devil his due,
Do it not faintly;
But as you rais'd by spell
Last Parliament from hell
Omnipotently.

7.

The Charge they wisely frame
(On with it, on with it,)
In that yet unknown name
Of Supreme power,
Which six weeks hence by Vote
Shall be or it shall not,
When Monk's to London got
In a good hour.

8.

But twelve good men and true,
Cavaliers, Cavaliers,
He excepts against you,
Justice he fears.
From Bar and Pulpit he
Craves such as do for fee
Serve all turnes: for hee'l be
Tryed by his Peers.

9.

Satan, ya're guilty found,
By your Peers, by your Peers.
And must dye above ground,
Look for no pitty.
Some of our Ministry,
Whose Spirits with yours comply,
As Owen, Caryl, Nye ,
For death shall fit 'ee

10.

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.

11.

Devil, you are an Asse,
Plain it is, plain it is,
And weakly plead the case;
Your wits are lost.
Some Lawyers will out-do't,
When shortly they come to't,
Your craft, our gold to boot,
They have ingross'd.

12.

Should all men take their right,
Well-a-day, well-aday,
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.

13.

But if I dye, 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're did these Kingdoms three
Feel such a curse.

14.

To our promotion Sir,
There are here, there are here,
Through some confused stir
Doth the high-road lye.
In hell we need not fear
Nor King, nor Cavalier,
Who then shall dominere
But we the Godly?

15.

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
Your selves (there's Burglary)
Wrath entered forcibly,
And stopt his breath

16.

Sir, as our President
Taught by you, taught by you,
'Gainst the King a way went
Most strange and new:
Charging him with the Guilt
Of all the blood we spilt,
With Swords up to the hilt,
So wee'l serve you.

17.

For mercy then I call,
Good my Lords, good my Lords,
And Traytors I'le leave all
Duly to end it.
Sir, Sir, 'tis frivolous,
As well for you as us,
To beg for mercy thus,
Our crimes transcend it.

18.

You must dye out of hand,
Satanas, Satanas,
This our Decree shall stand,
Without controll,
And we for you will pray,
Because the Scriptures say,
When some men curse you, they
Curse their own soul.

19.

The fiend to Tyburn's gone,
There to dye, there to dye.
Black is the North anon,
Great storms will be,
Therefore together now
I leave him and th' Gallow:
So News-man take 'em thou,
Soon they'l take thee.