<!DOCTYPE ETS PUBLIC "-//UMDLPS//DTD EEBOPROOF 2.0//EN">
<ETS>
<TEMPHEAD>
<REVDESCR>
<CHANGE>
<DATE>2007-09-03</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Elspeth Healey</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B070814.apex.</ITEM>
</CHANGE>
</REVDESCR>
</TEMPHEAD>
<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="A89877">
<STC T="W">N386</STC>
<STC T="T">669.f.27[7]</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99869070</BIBNO>
<VID>170704</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem"><!-- PDF PAGE 6 -->
<PB REF="1" MS="y">
<HEAD>THE CITIES FEAST TO THE LORD PROTECTOR.</HEAD>
<OPENER>To the Tune of <HI>Cooke Lorrell.</HI></OPENER>
<LG>
<L>SIR Mayor invites his Highne&s;&s;e his gue&s;t</L>
<L>And bids him to Grocers-Hall to dinner,</L>
<L>There never was Saint at &s;o great a Fea&s;t</L>
<L>Provided him at the Charge of a Sinner.</L>
<L><HI>With a ran tan the Devil is dead.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>And what was the day do you think, without je&s;ting,</L>
<L>Of all the year it was <HI>A&s;hwedne&s;day</HI></L>
<L>This pious Reformer &s;et apart for his Fea&s;ting,</L>
<L>When all good Chri&s;tians &s;hould fa&s;t and pray.</L>
<L><HI>With a ran tan the Devil is dead.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The Souldiers in clu&s;ters throng'd for place,</L>
<L>To &s;ee this Mon&s;ter of their own making,</L>
<L>And &s;aid it was a Protectors grace,</L>
<L>But that it wanted not much of A King.</L>
<L><HI>With a ran tan the Devil is dead.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The <HI>Bucks</HI> of the City in herds were met,</L>
<L>And were paled in with a very good fence,</L>
<L>But what their <HI>Doe's</HI> did, I cannot tell yet,</L>
<L>Of that ye may here three quarters hence.</L>
<L><HI>With a ran tan the Devil is dead.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>With that the Recorder marcht up to the Hall</L>
<L>With a di&s;h of divinity dre&s;t for his pallate,</L>
<L>And laid before him a &s;houlder of <HI>Saul,</HI></L>
<L>With a &s;avory <HI>&s;imily</HI> by for a &s;alate</L>
<L><HI>With a ran tan the Devil is dead.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>His Highne&s;s commanded to lay it by,</L>
<L>Twas fit for his people hee'd make it known,</L>
<L>And they &s;hould have it, good rea&s;on why,</L>
<L>For they wanted more &s;houlders than their own.</L>
<L><HI>With a ran tan the Devil is dead.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>A di&s;h of Delinquents heads in a Charger</L>
<L>Was &s;ent as a pre&s;ent from <HI>Gold&s;miths-Hall,</HI></L>
<L>He wi&s;ht his &s;tomak ten times larger,</L>
<L>Yet made a long neck and poach'd them all.</L>
<L><HI>With a ran tan the Devil is dead.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>A Prelate was next, and to him he buckles,</L>
<L>With a Bi&s;hoprick tru&s;s'd before and behinde,</L>
<L>His Highne&s;s was in with him up to the knuckles,</L>
<L>And to his own kitchin the skuers a&s;&s;ign'd.</L>
<L><HI>With a ran tan the Devil is dead.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>His Highne&s;s then call'd for a boule of Canary,</L>
<L>And drank &s;o deep that it made him reel,</L>
<L>He to&s;s'd it to <HI>Lambert,</HI> and <HI>Lambert</HI> to <HI>Harry,</HI></L>
<L>And <HI>Harry</HI> to the <HI>Mayor,</HI> and the <HI>Mayor</HI> to <HI>Steel.</HI></L>
<L><HI>With a ran tan the Devil is dead.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>When dinner was ended, away to the banquet,</L>
<L>Where &s;natching of Sugar-plums one from another,</L>
<L><HI>Hal</HI> fill'd up his pockets, and &s;aid God be thanked,</L>
<L>And carried them home to his Lady-mother.</L>
<L><HI>With a ran tan the Devil is dead.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Then His <HI>Highne&s;s</HI> commanded the <HI>Mayor</HI> to kneel,</L>
<L>The <HI>Bea&s;t</HI> of the <HI>City</HI> was &s;oon on his knees,</L>
<L>He made him a Knight with Iron and &s;teel,</L>
<L>And bid him ri&s;e up, and pay him his fees.</L>
<L><HI>With a ran tan the Devil is dead.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Up ro&s;e my <HI>Lords</HI> wor&s;hip and made him a leg,</L>
<L>With that the <HI>Knight-maker</HI> did give him the Sword,</L>
<L>His Highne&s;s did &s;pice him without a nutmeg,</L>
<L>When he made a bad Knight of a pitifull Lord.</L>
<L><HI>VVith a ran tan the Devil is dead.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>When he left the City he broke a je&s;t.</L>
<L>His words were pithy, and Ile repeat them,</L>
<L><HI>Farewell</HI> (quoth his Highne&s;s) <HI>thou &s;purgall'd bea&s;t,</HI></L>
<L><HI>Fools make the fea&s;ts, and wi&s;e men eat them.</HI></L>
</LG>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>MARCHEMOUNT NEEDHAM.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P>LONDON, <HI>Printed for</HI> Henry Mar&s;h <HI>at the</HI> Princes Armes <HI>in</HI> Chancery-lane. 1661.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
</EEBO>
</ETS>
