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Ignoramus:
An Excellent New Song.


To the Tune of, Lay by your Pleading, Law lies a bleeding.


[1]
  Since Reformation
  With Whig’s in Faſhion;
There’s neither Equity nor Juſtice in the Nation.
  Againſt their Furies,
  There no ſuch Cure is,
As lately hath been wrought by Ignoramus-Juries.
  Compaction of Faction,
  That breeds all Diſtraction,
Is at the Zenith Point, but will not bear an Action.
  They ſham us, and flam us,
  And ram us, and damn us,
And then, in ſpight of Law, come off with Ignoramus.

[2]
  Old Tony Plotted,
  Brimighams Voted,
And all the Mobile the Holy Cauſe promoted.
  They preach’d up Treaſon,
  At ev’ry ſeaſon,
And taught the Multitude Rebellion was but Reaſon,
  With Breaches, Impeaches,
  And moſt Loyal Speeches,
With Royal Bloud again to glut the thirſty Leeches.
  They ſham us, and flam us, &c.

[3]
  ’Tis ſuch a Jury
  Wou'’ paſs no Tory,
Were he as Innocent as a Saint in Glory:
  But let a Brother
  Raviſh his Mother,
Aſſaſſinate his King, he wou’d find no other.
  They ſhamed, and blamed,
  At Loyalliſts aimed;
But when a Whig’s repriev’d, the Town with Beacons flamed.
  They ſham us, and flam us, &c.

[4]
  This Ignoramus
  With which they ſham us,
Wou’d find againſt a York, to raise a M—th-amus
  Who clears a Traytor;
  And a King Hater,
Againſt his Lawful Prince wou’d find ſufficient matter.
  They fought it, and wrought it,
  Like Rebels they fought it,
And with the price of Royal Martyrs bloud, they bought it.
  They ſham us, and flam us, &c.

[5]
  At the Old Baily,
  Where Rogues flock daily,
A greater Traytor far then Coleman, White or Staley,
  Was late Indicted,
  Witneſſes cited,
But Tony was ſet free; ſo the King was righted.
  ’Gainſt Princes, Offences
  Prov’d in all ſenſes;
But ’gainſt Tony there's no Truth in Evidences.
  They ſham us, and flam us, &c.

[6]
  But wot you what, Sir?
  They found it not, Sir;
’Twas ev’ry Jurors Caſe, and there lay all the Plot, Sir.
  For at this ſeaſon,
  Shou’d they do reaſon,
Which of themſelves ſhou’d ſcape, if they found it Treaſon?
  Compaſſion in faſhion,
  The Int’reſt of th’ Nation:
Oh, what a Godly point is ſelf-preſervation!
  They ſham us, and flam us, &c.

[7]
  ’Las what is Conſcience
  In Baxter’s own ſenſe,
When Int’reſt lies at ſtake, an Oath and Law is Nonſenſe.
  Now they will banter
  Quaker and Ranter,
To find a Royalliſt, and clear a Covenanter.
  They’l wrangle and brangle,
  The Soul intangle,
To ſave the Traytors Neck from the old Triangle.
  They ſham us, and flam us, &c.

[8]
  Alaſs! for pity
  Of this good City,
What will the Tories ſay in their Drunken Dity?
  When all Abettors,
And Monarch Haters,
The Brethren damn’d their Souls to ſave malicious Traytors.
  But mind it, long winded,
  With prejudice blinded,
Leſt what you now reject, another Jury find it.
  They ſham us, and flam us,
  And ram us, and damn us,
When againſt King and Law you find an Ignoramus.

London: Printed in the year MDCLXXXI.