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<DATE>2009-01-03</DATE>
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<NAME>tcpstaff</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
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<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B081163.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B04969">
<STC T="W">q203</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99886871</BIBNO>
<VID>181376</VID>
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<TEXT LANG="eng">
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<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 20 -->
<HEAD>Qui Chetat Chetabitur: <HI>OR, TYBURNE Cheated.</HI></HEAD>
<ARGUMENT>
<P>BEING, A POEME, UPON The three Regicides <HI>Mun&s;on, Mildmay</HI> and <HI>Wallopp;</HI> who were Drawn upon Hurdles to <HI>Tyburne</HI> on the 27th. of <HI>January,</HI> 1661.</P>
</ARGUMENT>
<L>GReat, and grave <HI>Tyburne,</HI> Wee are &s;ent</L>
<L>To court thee in a <HI>Complement:</HI></L>
<L>Wee come, oh &s;trange! to make no &s;tay,</L>
<L>Only greet, and &s;o away;</L>
<L>Take notice how we doe adore thee,</L>
<L>And in wor&s;hip fall before thee;</L>
<L>Thus we fall before thy <HI>Trine,</HI></L>
<L>And vow our &s;elves for ever thine:</L>
<L>'Twas for thy &s;ake we &s;tirr'd up &s;trife,</L>
<L>And now we love thee to the life;</L>
<L>Our humble hearts doe make reque&s;t,</L>
<L>Not to be mounted, like the re&s;t;</L>
<L>We are content all &s;trife &s;hould cea&s;e,</L>
<L>And love, what once we hated, <HI>Peace.</HI></L>
<L>Did we not doe a pretty thing,</L>
<L>To <HI>Murder</HI> a Religious <HI>King:</HI></L>
<L>Oh! how we quafft his guiltle&s;s blood,</L>
<L>He onely dy'd for being <HI>good;</HI></L>
<L>Whil&s;t all the Puni&s;hment we had</L>
<L>Was but to live, for being <HI>bad;</HI></L>
<L>If this be all we mu&s;t incurr,</L>
<L>Who would not be a <HI>Murtherer:</HI></L>
<L>We care not now we know our hope</L>
<L>Mu&s;t be intayl'd upon a <HI>Rope.</HI></L>
<L>Pray tell us Lawyers, can there be</L>
<L>A Fine, without Recoverie?</L>
<L>We'l &s;atisfie our &s;elves a None,</L>
<L>We now are reading <HI>Little&mdash;ton;</HI></L>
<L>If <HI>Cooke</HI> were living, he'd advi&s;e us</L>
<L>In our di&s;tre&s;s, though you di&s;pi&s;e us;</L>
<L>But he (poore Wretch) was ca&s;t a&s;ide,</L>
<L>His Law was DUN before he dy'd:</L>
<L>Some of his Brethren &s;mil'd to &s;ee,</L>
<L>Whil&s;t others cry'd, And why not we?</L>
<L>Their Judgments did the thing enlarge,</L>
<L>Though he were Drawn that drew the <HI>Charge;</HI></L>
<L>We &s;ee a boundance of our Gange.</L>
<L>(I hope they practice how to Hang)</L>
<L>That knew full well, the time 'was, when</L>
<L>Money made Knaves, now hone&s;t men:</L>
<L>Nor had we bin thus made a <HI>Theame,</HI></L>
<L>Had we bin rul'd by QUARLES his <HI>Dreame;</HI></L>
<L>He call'd us <HI>Rebells</HI> in our prime,</L>
<L>And told us of this very time:</L>
<L>But he n'ere dream'd, as &s;ome recited,</L>
<L>That for his <HI>Worke</HI> he &s;hould be &s;lighted:</L>
<L>Such <HI>Caveleirs</HI> we daily &s;ee,</L>
<L>Are con&s;tant to their <HI>Povertie;</HI></L>
<L>Their's was the danger, their's the paine,</L>
<L>But we can tell who reapes the gaine;</L>
<L>Now they may begg through Jron-grates,</L>
<L>That lo&s;t (by which we got) E&s;tates.</L>
<L>Whil&s;t once a yeare we pay our <HI>Vows,</HI></L>
<L>To this our mon&s;truous three legg'd <HI>Sp<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1 letter">us,</HI></L>
<L>Who &s;howes her love, in this our woe,</L>
<L>Poore Wretch &s;he's loath to let us goe;</L>
<L>Oh! how &s;he labours, and inclines</L>
<L>To make us under&s;tand her <HI>Lines;</HI></L>
<L>How &s;he &s;eems to &s;well with pride,</L>
<L>With her <HI>Champion</HI> by her &s;ide,</L>
<L>Who invites us to our woes,</L>
<L>That the Knave might have our <HI>cloathes;</HI></L>
<L>He tells us that we need not feare,</L>
<L>For old <HI>Noll,</HI> and <HI>Brad&s;haw</HI>'s there;</L>
<L>We know, and all the world may &s;ee't,</L>
<L>That 'tis not merry when Knaves meet;</L>
<L>But this old &s;aying now proves true,</L>
<L>The <HI>Gallow<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1 letter"></HI> alwayes claimes her due;</L>
<L>Wer't not for fear we would proceed,</L>
<L>And out of love, be hang'd indeed;</L>
<L>For unto us it does appeare</L>
<L>Sad to be hanged once a yeare,</L>
<L>For like old <HI>Noll,</HI> though breath be fled,</L>
<L>We may be hanged when we be dead:</L>
<L>But one thing joyes us to the heart,</L>
<L>The <HI>Cavel<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1 letter">irs</HI> can bare no part,</L>
<L>For if we &s;ee them but begin</L>
<L>To laugh we'le bid them laugh that win;</L>
<L>And if they chance to make their braggs,</L>
<L>We'le bid them looke upon their Raggs;</L>
<L>Alas poore <HI>Creatures,</HI> they can hope</L>
<L>Only in <HI>Raggs,</HI> and we in <HI>Rope.</HI></L>
<L>But now, Grave <HI>Tyburne</HI> we mu&s;t leave thee,</L>
<L>'Tis no wonder we deceive thee;</L>
<L>Pray doe not weep, for 'tis in vaine</L>
<L>Next yeare, we'le &s;ee the here againe;</L>
<L>Till then, with a &s;ubmi&s;&s;ive bow</L>
<L>We make to thee, each <HI>Man,</HI> his <HI>vow:</HI></L>
<L>And fir&s;t we doe re&s;olve to bee</L>
<L>Obedient unto none but thee;</L>
<L>Next, during life, we vow t'appeare</L>
<L>And doe thee <HI>homage</HI> once a <HI>yeare;</HI></L>
<L>The&s;e <HI>promi&s;es</HI> thou well may&s;t tru&s;t,</L>
<L><HI>Nece&s;&s;ety will make us ju&s;t.</HI></L>
<L>Thus we <HI>thy Servants,</HI> every one,</L>
<L><HI>Wallopp, Mildmay,</HI> and <HI>Mun&s;on,</HI></L>
<L>With all our might and power, will</L>
<L>Be allwayes carefull to fullfill</L>
<L>Thy &s;weet commands, not <HI>time,</HI> nor <HI>&s;ea&s;on</HI></L>
<L>Shall hinder us, from thinking <HI>Trea&s;on;</HI></L>
<L>What though we never lov'd our <HI>King?</HI></L>
<L>Thou lov'&s;t <HI>us</HI> for that very thing;</L>
<L>In all things thou &s;halt be our <HI>Cheife,</HI></L>
<L>Thou lov'&s;t a <HI>Traitor,</HI> and a <HI>Theife,</HI></L>
<L>Therefore thou need'&s;t take no care</L>
<L>For we can fitt thee to a haire;</L>
<L>For our <HI>Deeds</HI> are &s;o much fam'd</L>
<L>That <HI>Hell</HI> will blu&s;h to hear <HI>us</HI> nam'd,</L>
<L>And thus for our Rebellious Pride,</L>
<L>Wee'l once a <HI>yeare</HI> on Hurdles ride,</L>
<L>And if Squire <HI>Dun</HI> will not oppo&s;e,</L>
<L>Wee'l every <HI>Winter</HI> finde him cloaths.</L>
<L>And now, <HI>great Charles,</HI> to thee we bow,</L>
<L>And, <HI>Satan-like,</HI> we all alow</L>
<L>And owne thee for a gratious King,</L>
<L>Though unto us th'art no &s;uch thing;</L>
<L>We tooke away thy <HI>Fathers life,</HI></L>
<L>His <HI>Blood</HI> &s;till reekes upon our <HI>knife;</HI></L>
<L>Then how can <HI>we</HI> expect thy <HI>Grace,</HI></L>
<L>When <HI>Ju&s;tice</HI> takes up <HI>Mercies</HI> place.</L>
<L>Therefore, if extracted be</L>
<L>The <HI>Quinte&s;cence</HI> of Tyrannie,</L>
<L>'Tis Love, compared to our <HI>Deeds,</HI></L>
<L>Till <HI>we</HI> are dead, thy Father bleeds;</L>
<L>But if thy <HI>Mercy</HI> &s;hould out &s;hine</L>
<L>Thy <HI>Ju&s;tice,</HI> Thou would'&s;t prove Devine;</L>
<L>Add Plagues, to Plagues, and even then</L>
<L>Thou art the milde&s;t of all <HI>Men.</HI></L>
<L>Thus we conclude, and from this houre</L>
<L>We will acknowledge <HI>Thee</HI> in <HI>Power.</HI></L>
<TRAILER>FUNIS.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
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<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P><HI>London,</HI> printed by <HI>Edward Crowch</HI> dwelling on <HI>Snow-hill.</HI> 1661. <HI>Who the&s;e Traitors would once have hang'd.</HI></P>
</DIV1>
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