Popery pickled:
Or, The Jesuits Shoes made of running Leather.
[_]
To the Tune of, Would you be a Man of Favour.
1
Would you have a new Play acted?
Would you see it just begun?
Popery is run distracted,
And the Priests are all undone.
Now you'll see their Beads and Crosses
All lie prostrate on the ground;
They're march'd off like Fools and Asses,
Not one Skulker to be found.
2
Would you see the Great Ones flying,
Leaving a disbanded Court?
There are Monks and Friars crying,
Whither now shall we resort?
Now the Chappel's quite defeated,
And forsaken like the Crown:
Popery is now convicted,
There's no such thing to be found.
3
Would you see the Priests recanting,
Now they fear the English Law?
You shall hear them all a ranting,
Lero, Lero, Bullen-a-la.
Instead of reading Ave-Mary
In their Babylonian Gown,
You will see the quite contrary,
Not a Mass-Book to be found.
4
Would you see the Nest a brooding,
Which way they their Course shall steer?
You shall hear them all concluding,
Any where but staying here.
Jefferies was prepar'd for sailing
In his long Tarpawlin Gown;
But his Politicks him failing,
By his bauling he was found.
5
Would you see Tyrconnel sweating
For fear of a final Rout?
Now the great Convention's sitting,
All will soon be brought about.
He must then forsake his Palace,
Just as Petre did his Gown;
Like a Coward fly to Calais,
Where he never may be found.
6
Would you have the Scene now changed,
Stay but while this Act is done,
And see Father Petre hanged
For procuring of a Son?
See the Chancellor a pleading,
Where he Russel guilty found?
When he hears his Sentence reading,
A true Dreamer he'll be found.
