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<DATE>2014-04-29</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>John Pas</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B140320.apex.</ITEM>
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<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B22883">
<STC T="W">F547</STC>
<STC T="C">R39532</STC>
<BIBNO T="oclc">[ocm]18426476</BIBNO>
<VID>154416</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="dialogue">
<PB REF="1" MS="y">
<HEAD><HI>Father Petre's Lamentation;</HI> OR, His New-Years-Gift To the DEVIL.</HEAD>
<P><FIGURE>
<FIGDESC>engraving of Catholic priest with devil on his shoulder and windmill coming out of his head</FIGDESC>
<HEAD>Father Peters:</HEAD>
</FIGURE></P>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Petre.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>WHat have we done! now has the gloomy part</L>
<L>Unbo&s;om'd all the utmo&s;t of its Art.</L>
<L>Has Hell ungorg'd, and from its Entrails thrown</L>
<L>Off all the Plots which u&s;eful might have grown?</L>
<L>By which we might have ran&s;ack'd all the World,</L>
<L>And Hereticks to &s;ad De&s;pair have hurl'd.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Devil.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>Labour I did, and much Pains I took,</L>
<L>Thro' all the Creeks of Hell did &s;trictly look,</L>
<L>Where I might find one Devil that might be</L>
<L>A&s;&s;i&s;ting to our Helli&s;h Ma&s;&s;acre.</L>
<L>But I am deceiv'd; yet thy Soul mu&s;t pay</L>
<L>Me for my Pains, when hence it flies away.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Petre.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>That I give thee, and would have thank'd thee too,</L>
<L>If t' our ruin'd Plots, thou had&s;t been true:</L>
<L>All now are known, and my A&s;&s;i&s;tants are</L>
<L>Brought to the Rope, &s;ubmitting to De&s;pair.</L>
<L>The Birth of the fal&s;e P&mdash;is plainly known;</L>
<L>That wretched Door to all the Crowd is &s;hown.</L>
<L>Con&s;cience is prickt, which makes 'em more confe&s;s</L>
<L>Than loaded Hell it &s;elf cou'd e're po&s;&s;e&s;s.</L>
<L>Our Ma&s;&s;acreing Arms are all di&s;pers'd,</L>
<L>Our Plotting Letters to the World rehears'd:</L>
<L>Our Cro&s;&s;es, Books and Papers, now we &s;ee,</L>
<L>Are come to a de&s;erv'd <HI>Cata&s;trophe.</HI></L>
<L>Our Fryars, Monks and Je&s;uits, nay all</L>
<L>The Romi&s;h Tribe, will in this Conflict fall:</L>
<L>And crowded Hell will now &s;o burden'd be,</L>
<L>That &s;o at la&s;t, there 'l &s;carce be room for me.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Devil.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>Feed not thy &s;elf with &s;uch vain Hopes as tho&s;e,</L>
<L>To be the fir&s;t of all I thee have cho&s;e:</L>
<L>In Purgatory Flames think not to burn,</L>
<L>Where after Death, thou &s;ay'&s;t, the Souls return;</L>
<L>But where thou always mu&s;t expect to be</L>
<L>Tortur'd with Flames and vip'rous Cruelty.</L>
<L>Come! ha&s;t away! we have prepared Quarters</L>
<L>For Thee and thy Fellow <HI>Regulators,</HI></L>
<L>Nigh Father <HI>Garnet,</HI> and &s;uch <HI>Popi&s;h-Martyrs.</HI></L>
</LG>
</SP>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P><HI>London:</HI> Printed 1689.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
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