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. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
Emblem XXIX. The Execution of the Conspirators.
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| XXX. |
 | The Protestants Vade Mecum |  |
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Emblem XXIX. The Execution of the Conspirators.
This is the Centre, where the Traytors comeTo meet a shameful Death, call'd Martyrdome.
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The Heavens shall reveal his iniquity, and the earth shall rise up against him.
JOB, Chap. 20. v. 27.
With curious eye and ever-searching care,
The prudent Magistrate seeks ev'ry where,
Big with some Embryo that may much disgrace
The Cause,
Without a pause,
Moves like a longing woman to the place,
Where Mother Midnight who had closely laid
The spurious Issue of the Romish Jade,
In a by-corner of the house, for fear
The Brat should be discover'd cost so dear,
Lull'd into safety, though she should deceive
The piercing eye
Of the all-high,
And man (his Deputy) of sense bereave:
But Treason and Murder dear,
An equal share
Of guilt,
Since one already has,
And th'other Plots for blood that should be spilt.
To raise the Cause,
How can the Traytor or the Murth'rous he,
End his dire life without discovery?
But Womans will,
That ere was ill,
Fram'd in Creation for a Plague to man,
Promis'd much more
Than all before,
And will perform it if she can.
Their first Plot shrunk,
This Romish Punk.
This Midnight Bawd to Teeming Rome,
Groaps out a way,
To give new-day
To Popery, and fix Religious doom,
Their Mens Plots fail,
She doth assail,
A Sham on that way to prevail.
On our Religion she'd the odium cast;
So makes us guilty of their Crimes at last.
But when most near
To take,
Nay, when't had reach'd our Monarchs ear,
Heav'n put a period to it for his sake,
Unbound the charms
The Sorc'ress made,
And broke those Arms
Which shou'd Religious peace invade:
Display'd their Vice,
Nay did entice
Their Agent too,
Who soon declar'd what he had sworn to do;
Threw off the rubbish from their secret Mine,
And shew'd us in a minute their design.
The Mole thus found
That heav'd the ground,
And rais'd Commotions in a quiet field,
Tells us yet more
O'th'Romish Whore,
And teacheth us to make her yeild.
The prudent Magistrate seeks ev'ry where,
Big with some Embryo that may much disgrace
The Cause,
Without a pause,
Moves like a longing woman to the place,
Where Mother Midnight who had closely laid
The spurious Issue of the Romish Jade,
In a by-corner of the house, for fear
The Brat should be discover'd cost so dear,
Lull'd into safety, though she should deceive
The piercing eye
Of the all-high,
And man (his Deputy) of sense bereave:
But Treason and Murder dear,
An equal share
Of guilt,
Since one already has,
And th'other Plots for blood that should be spilt.
To raise the Cause,
How can the Traytor or the Murth'rous he,
End his dire life without discovery?
But Womans will,
That ere was ill,
Fram'd in Creation for a Plague to man,
Promis'd much more
Than all before,
And will perform it if she can.
Their first Plot shrunk,
This Romish Punk.
This Midnight Bawd to Teeming Rome,
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To give new-day
To Popery, and fix Religious doom,
Their Mens Plots fail,
She doth assail,
A Sham on that way to prevail.
On our Religion she'd the odium cast;
So makes us guilty of their Crimes at last.
But when most near
To take,
Nay, when't had reach'd our Monarchs ear,
Heav'n put a period to it for his sake,
Unbound the charms
The Sorc'ress made,
And broke those Arms
Which shou'd Religious peace invade:
Display'd their Vice,
Nay did entice
Their Agent too,
Who soon declar'd what he had sworn to do;
Threw off the rubbish from their secret Mine,
And shew'd us in a minute their design.
The Mole thus found
That heav'd the ground,
And rais'd Commotions in a quiet field,
Tells us yet more
O'th'Romish Whore,
And teacheth us to make her yeild.
As the base spurious Issue of some Drab,
That shame had forc'd to strangle or to stab,
Is in some close and private corner thrust,
And all to hide the product of her lust:
She with the face of Impudence doth come,
As if she never had absented home.
Hardned in sin, she doth once more invade
Mankind, and passeth for a Maid.
But the last partner of her lust and shame,
Against her boasted title doth declaim,
Declares the substance of their Midnight facts,
And now in publick mentions all their acts.
The boasted Maid is to a Justice driv'n;
But she denies the thing, and calls on Heav'n.
I'th' place suspected narrowly they pry,
Where soon is found Murder and Infamy.
So th'Romish Bastard, though in private drown'd,
At length is in a paultry Meal-Tub found.
The ready Midwife too that gave it breath,
Concealing the black Crime doth merit death.
But she already on the Law is thrust,
Which quickly doth Condemn, or clear the Just.
That shame had forc'd to strangle or to stab,
Is in some close and private corner thrust,
And all to hide the product of her lust:
She with the face of Impudence doth come,
As if she never had absented home.
Hardned in sin, she doth once more invade
Mankind, and passeth for a Maid.
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Against her boasted title doth declaim,
Declares the substance of their Midnight facts,
And now in publick mentions all their acts.
The boasted Maid is to a Justice driv'n;
But she denies the thing, and calls on Heav'n.
I'th' place suspected narrowly they pry,
Where soon is found Murder and Infamy.
So th'Romish Bastard, though in private drown'd,
At length is in a paultry Meal-Tub found.
The ready Midwife too that gave it breath,
Concealing the black Crime doth merit death.
But she already on the Law is thrust,
Which quickly doth Condemn, or clear the Just.
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