A Vindication of Cheapside-Crosse against the Roundheads

Must I then down? is an eternal doome

Past out against me? must I needs to Rome?

And why? it is contrary to the Laws,

To judge th’ offendor e’re they hear the Cause.

Why come you arm’d against me? what may be

The cause of difference ’twixt you and me?

Have I transgrest the Law? or did I ever

Our gracious Soveraign from his People sever?

Did I to a factious Covenant subscribe,

Or turn Jack-on-both-sides for a bribe?

Rebells have long our wisht for blisse defer’d,

All rose in armes, but yet I never stir’d.

When such a Prick-ear troop upon me gaz’d,

Crying (no Crosse) good faith I stood amaz’d:

I was struck dumb with wonder, and which worse,

Because I’de gold about me, fear’d my Purse.

This zealous rabble came not to adore me,

Yet (thanks to th’ Butchers) some fell down before me,

Others ran quite away, the rest disputed,

Mis-using Scripture phrases, but confuted,

Wisedome they call’d Apocriphal, threw dirt on

All Fathers faces, but Saint P——— and Burton.

Was God ith’ middle of this Congregation?

Or were they led by instinct, or revelation?

Kings doft their Crowns, and Cardinals their Copes,

All must be bare unto a crew of Crops.

But do’s Religion such a hatred bring,

To hate the very picture of a King?

Brethren what would you have? or what d’ye fear?

I draw no sword, nor do I wear long hair.

I’le do no wrong (though arm’d with Pikes about)

Would you know why? ’twas to keep Roundheads out,

Who have not sworn, but tane a Protestation

To leave no golden Crosse to blesse our Nation,

They will divide my Coat, my Flesh, my Bones,

Theyl’e share the Gold, and give their Wives the Stones.

They say they’le pluck the Tower of Babel down,

All things go right when there’s no Crosse it’h Town.

But who can live without them? Crosses are

The good mans blessings, and his certain share.

He that would win an everlasting Crown,

Must elevate his Crosse, not throw it down.

They’le have no Common Prayer, but do abhor

All that is common, but a common W———

Will you hear reason? that’s not common to ye.

Will Prayers prevail? He pray ex tempore.

You think ’tis justice that your factious crew

Are crosse to me ’cause I am Crosse to you.

You will have flesh for flesh, It’s very dear

That Peters nose should pay for Malchas ear,

If he should snuffle now, that were a jest,

That very thing would make him full blest:

You’l run to hear him, and cry’s doctrine strong,

Though non-sense, in regard he stands so long.

Put out his eyes next time, and you may find

A second like the first, and doctrine blind.

Some call me Popish, and report they see

Divers adore me, what’s all that to me?

Because they worship me shall I fall down

Unto such Calves, Mechanicks of the Town.

’Tis Popery, let them kneel that list, Ile stand?

Before Ile bow, Ile fly to some new Land.

Be sorry Brethren, I am pleas’d to think

’Twas from too little wit, or too much drink.

Ile be a Roundhead spiritually sent

To pardon your affronts, if youl repent.

I am a foe to Rome, for you shall find

When I am gone, there’s the more room behind.