The Loyal Conqueſt
Or, Deſtruction of Treaſon,
A Song
To the Tune of, Lay by your Pleading, the Law ly’s a Bleeding.
Now Loyal Tories
May Tryumph in Glories,
The Fatal Plot is now betray’d,
The Reſt were Shams and Stories.
Now againſt Treaſon,
We have Law and Reaſon;
And e’ry Bloody Whigg muſt go,
To Pot in Time and Seaſon.
No Shamming, nor Flamming,
No Ramming, nor Damming,
No Ignoramus Jury’s now,
For Whiggs, but only Hanging.
May Tryumph in Glories,
The Fatal Plot is now betray’d,
The Reſt were Shams and Stories.
Now againſt Treaſon,
We have Law and Reaſon;
And e’ry Bloody Whigg muſt go,
To Pot in Time and Seaſon.
No Shamming, nor Flamming,
No Ramming, nor Damming,
No Ignoramus Jury’s now,
For Whiggs, but only Hanging.
II.
Look a little farther,
Place things in order,
Thoſe that ſeek to Kill their King,
Godfrey might Murther.
Now they’r Detected,
By Heaven Neglected;
In black diſpair cut their Throats,
Thus Pluto’s Work’s effected.
No Shamming, nor Flamming, &c.
Look a little farther,
Place things in order,
Thoſe that ſeek to Kill their King,
Godfrey might Murther.
Now they’r Detected,
By Heaven Neglected;
In black diſpair cut their Throats,
Thus Pluto’s Work’s effected.
No Shamming, nor Flamming, &c.
III.
Catch grows in Paſſion,
And fears this New Faſhion;
Leſt e’ry Traytor hang himſelf,
And ſpoyle his beſt Profeſſion.
Tho’ four in a Morning
Tyburn Adorning;
He Cryes out for a Score a time,
To get his Men their Learning.
No Shamming, nor Flamming, &c.
Catch grows in Paſſion,
And fears this New Faſhion;
Leſt e’ry Traytor hang himſelf,
And ſpoyle his beſt Profeſſion.
Tho’ four in a Morning
Tyburn Adorning;
He Cryes out for a Score a time,
To get his Men their Learning.
No Shamming, nor Flamming, &c.
IV.
Now we have ſounded
The bottom which confounded,
Our Plotting Parliament of late
Who had our King ſurrounded.
Hamden and others,
And Trencher were Brothers;
Who were to kill the King and Duke,
And hang us for the Murthers.
No Shamming, nor Flamming, &c.
Now we have ſounded
The bottom which confounded,
Our Plotting Parliament of late
Who had our King ſurrounded.
Hamden and others,
And Trencher were Brothers;
Who were to kill the King and Duke,
And hang us for the Murthers.
No Shamming, nor Flamming, &c.
V.
Surpriſing the Tower
And Court, in an Hour,
And enter at the Traytors Gate,
But was not in their Power.
O now Guards are Doubled,
E’re long they will be Tripled,
The Harmony of Gun and Drum,
Makes Guilty Conſcience Troubled.
No Shamming, nor Flamming, &c.
Surpriſing the Tower
And Court, in an Hour,
And enter at the Traytors Gate,
But was not in their Power.
O now Guards are Doubled,
E’re long they will be Tripled,
The Harmony of Gun and Drum,
Makes Guilty Conſcience Troubled.
No Shamming, nor Flamming, &c.
VI.
If Grey is Retaken,
The Root o’th’ Plot is ſhaken,
Ruſſel and the reſt Condemn’d,
The Bleeding Cauſe to waken.
Monmouth in Town ſtill
With Armſtrong his Council;
The Lady G— may find him out,
Under ſome Smock or Gown Still.
No Shamming, nor Flamming, &c.
If Grey is Retaken,
The Root o’th’ Plot is ſhaken,
Ruſſel and the reſt Condemn’d,
The Bleeding Cauſe to waken.
Monmouth in Town ſtill
With Armſtrong his Council;
The Lady G— may find him out,
Under ſome Smock or Gown Still.
No Shamming, nor Flamming, &c.
VII.
Give ’em no Quarter,
They Aim at Crown and Garter,
They’re of that Bloody Regiment,
That made their King a Martyr.
Leave none to breed on,
They’d make us to bleed on;
They are the bloody’ſt Caniballs
That ever man did Read on.
No Shamming, nor Flamming,
No Ramming, nor Damming,
No Ignoramus Jury’s now,
For Whiggs, but only Hanging.
Give ’em no Quarter,
They Aim at Crown and Garter,
They’re of that Bloody Regiment,
That made their King a Martyr.
Leave none to breed on,
They’d make us to bleed on;
They are the bloody’ſt Caniballs
That ever man did Read on.
No Shamming, nor Flamming,
No Ramming, nor Damming,
No Ignoramus Jury’s now,
For Whiggs, but only Hanging.
London Printed for J. Dean, 1683.
