The Protestants Vade Mecum Or, Popery Display'd in its proper Colours, In Thirty Emblems, Lively representing all the Jesuitical Plots Against this Nation, and More fully this late hellish Designe Against his Sacred Majesty. Curiously engraven in Copper-plates |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
Emblem XVI. The manner of his being found; his Burial, and the Murtherers Execution.
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| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
 | The Protestants Vade Mecum |  |
62
Emblem XVI. The manner of his being found; his Burial, and the Murtherers Execution.
Although unseen, and unespy'd you range,One moment turns the Scale, and makes a change.
63
And these shall go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous into life eternal.
MATTH. Chap. 25. v. 26.
At length they are
To their great journies end Arriv'd,
Where without fear,
As if each Roman striv'd
Which 'twas should merit most, most ill appear,
Into a Ditch they fling the Nations freind;
Where Tyrant-like,
Because the World should think himself did strike
The fatal stroak,
His own good Sword is through his body thrust:
Good I may call it, since it prov'd so just,
Not only to revoke
That dismal sentence they had on him thrown,
That discontent,
That way he bent,
And perpetrated there that guilt alone.
But watchful Heav'n unmask'd their dark device,
And quickly melted down their walls of Ice:
'Twas plainly seen,
The Executioner black Rome had been;
His Neck and Brest,
Nay, all the rest,
Of their revenge was plainly found:
His Sword unbloody'd 's drawn out of the wound,
His shooes unsoyl'd, the very ground
Alone
Unstayn'd,
Are arguments that scandal was their own,
Which they so barb'rously maintain'd.
But 'tis no wonder, for what ere they do
Is strangely cruel, and most bloody too.
Was't not enough they stopt his breath,
But after death
Must Godfrey's fame,
(That fell for us a bloody Sacrifice)
Have lost the honour of a Martyrs name,
And doubly tasted, Rome, thy cruelties?
No, clear as day,
Your many guiles are to this Nation known;
Nor better can we hope from them that say,
To gain a Throne,
'Tis meritorious to kill any one
That are opponents to his mighty hope,
Who is the universal King, th'unerring Pope.
Heavy as lead, he and his trech'rous crew
(That would the Race of Monarchy undo)
Shall, when their Souls have left their lumps of clay,
In Winds and Tempests be convey'd away.
All in confusiou they shall hence be hurl'd,
To feel the Torments of another world.
Whilst Godfrey's Soul incumbent on the air,
Shall view the Torments you in Hell must bear;
In distant joys he shall his Murth'rers greet,
Who now would crawl to worship at his feet:
But after death you no remove can have;
Once damn'd, 'tis more impossible to save,
Than re-call life when buried in the grave.
But take with speed, take up this Rev'rend dust,
And lodge it 'mongst the Sepulchers of th'just,
Let sweet Hosanna's bring him to the grave,
And Halleluja's blest the Good, the Brave,
That did all England in his ruine save
Had not this Victim, Rome, been made by thee,
Thou hadst persisted in thy cruelty,
And at the last display'd thy Treachery.
To their great journies end Arriv'd,
Where without fear,
As if each Roman striv'd
Which 'twas should merit most, most ill appear,
Into a Ditch they fling the Nations freind;
Where Tyrant-like,
Because the World should think himself did strike
The fatal stroak,
His own good Sword is through his body thrust:
Good I may call it, since it prov'd so just,
Not only to revoke
That dismal sentence they had on him thrown,
That discontent,
That way he bent,
And perpetrated there that guilt alone.
But watchful Heav'n unmask'd their dark device,
And quickly melted down their walls of Ice:
'Twas plainly seen,
The Executioner black Rome had been;
His Neck and Brest,
Nay, all the rest,
Of their revenge was plainly found:
His Sword unbloody'd 's drawn out of the wound,
His shooes unsoyl'd, the very ground
Alone
Unstayn'd,
Are arguments that scandal was their own,
Which they so barb'rously maintain'd.
But 'tis no wonder, for what ere they do
Is strangely cruel, and most bloody too.
Was't not enough they stopt his breath,
But after death
64
(That fell for us a bloody Sacrifice)
Have lost the honour of a Martyrs name,
And doubly tasted, Rome, thy cruelties?
No, clear as day,
Your many guiles are to this Nation known;
Nor better can we hope from them that say,
To gain a Throne,
'Tis meritorious to kill any one
That are opponents to his mighty hope,
Who is the universal King, th'unerring Pope.
Heavy as lead, he and his trech'rous crew
(That would the Race of Monarchy undo)
Shall, when their Souls have left their lumps of clay,
In Winds and Tempests be convey'd away.
All in confusiou they shall hence be hurl'd,
To feel the Torments of another world.
Whilst Godfrey's Soul incumbent on the air,
Shall view the Torments you in Hell must bear;
In distant joys he shall his Murth'rers greet,
Who now would crawl to worship at his feet:
But after death you no remove can have;
Once damn'd, 'tis more impossible to save,
Than re-call life when buried in the grave.
But take with speed, take up this Rev'rend dust,
And lodge it 'mongst the Sepulchers of th'just,
Let sweet Hosanna's bring him to the grave,
And Halleluja's blest the Good, the Brave,
That did all England in his ruine save
Had not this Victim, Rome, been made by thee,
Thou hadst persisted in thy cruelty,
And at the last display'd thy Treachery.
That good from ill thus happily should spring!
That Godfrey's death should warn our Royal King!
Thus Murder did the great effect produce,
As good's extracted from a poys'nous juice.
Thou'rt the preserver of Great Britains Throne,
Who to save his, did freely give thy own.
Thus life for life thou hast already giv'n,
And trod the certain path that leads to Heav'n.
That Godfrey's death should warn our Royal King!
Thus Murder did the great effect produce,
As good's extracted from a poys'nous juice.
Thou'rt the preserver of Great Britains Throne,
Who to save his, did freely give thy own.
Thus life for life thou hast already giv'n,
And trod the certain path that leads to Heav'n.
| The Protestants Vade Mecum | |