A BALLAD

UPON THE PARLIAMENT

Which deliberated

ABOUT MAKING OLIVER KING*.

As clofe as a goofe

Sat the Parliament-house

To hatch the royal gull; After much fiddle-faddle,

The egg prov'd addle,

And Oliver came forth Nol.

Yet old Queen Madge,

Tho' things do not fadge,

Will ferve to be queen of a May-pole;

Two princes of Wales,

For Whitfun-ales,

And her Grace Maid-Marion Clay-pole.

In a robe of cow-hide

That follow'd him day and night :

It may be both ways right.

Strickland and his fon,

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Both caft into one,

Were meant for a fingle baron;

But when they came to fit,

There was not wit

Enough in them both to ferve for one.

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This Ballad refers to the Parliament, as it was called, which deli berated about making Oliver king, and petitioned him to accept the title, which he, out of fear of some republican zealots in his party, refused to accept, and contented himself with the power, under the name of Protector

Wherefore 't was thought good
To add Honeywood;

But when they came to trial,
Each one prov'd a fool,

Yet three knaves in the whole,
And that made up a Pair-royal.

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CONJECTURED TO BE ON OLIVER CROMWELL*.

DRAW

PART I.

RAW near, good people all, draw near,

And hearken to my ditty;

A ftranger thing

Than this I fing

Came never to this city.
Had you but feen this monfter,
You wou'd not give a farthing
For the loins in the grate,
Nor the mountain-cat,
Nor the bears in Paris-garden.
You wou'd defy the pageants
Are borne before the mayor;
The frangeft fhape

You e'er did gape

Upon at Bart'lomy fair!

His face is round and decent,

As is your difh or platter,
On which there grows

A thing like a nofe,

But, indeed, it is no fuch matter.

To this humourous ballad Butler had prefixed this title, The Privileges of Pimping, but afterwards crossed it out, for which reason I have not inserted it; and only mention it as a circumstance which may amuse such as are curious in hunting out the explication of niceties of this sort. It does not appear to bear any sense consistent with the subject; but some other critick may perhaps find one, or at least please himself with thinking so.

V. 16. From the medals, and original portraits, which are left of Oliver Cromwell, one may probably conjecture, if not positively aförm

On both fides of th' aforefaid

Are eyes, but they 're not matches,
On which there are

To be feen two fair

And large well-grown muftaches.

Now this with admiration

Does all beholders ftrike,

That a beard fhou'd grow

Upon a thing's brow,

Did ye ever fee the like?

He has no fcull, 't is well known
To thousands of beholders;
Nothing but a fkin

Does keep his brains in

From running about his fhoulders.

On both fides of his noddle

Are ftraps o' th' very fame leather;
Ears are imply'd,

But they're mere hide,

Or morfels of tripe, chufe ye whether.

Between thefe two extendeth

A flit from ear to ear,

That ev'ry hour

Gapes to devour

The fowce that grows fo near.

Beneath a tuft of briftles,

As rough as a frize-jerkin;
If it had been a beard,

"Twoud have ferv'd a herd

Of goats, that are of his near kin,

Within a fet of grinders

Moft fharp and keen, corroding
Your iron and brass

As easy as

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That you wou'd do a pudding.

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that this droll picture was designed for him. The roundness of his face,

the oddness of the nose, and the remarkable largeness of his eyebrows, are particulars which correspond exactly with then,

THIS monfter was begotten
Upon one of the witches,

an imp that came to her,
Like a man, to woo her,

With black doublet and britches.
When he was whelp'd, for certain,
In divers feveral countries
The hogs and fwine

Did grunt and whine,

And the ravens croak'd upon trees.

The winds did blow, the thunder
And lightning loud did rumble;
The dogs did howl,

The hollow tree in th' owl

'Tis a good horfe that ne'er ftumbl❜d.

As foon as he was brought forth,
At the midwife's throat he flew,
And throw the pap

Down in her lap;

They fay 't is very true.

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V. 13, 14.] This whimsical liberty ur Author takes, of transposing the words for the sake of a rhyme, though at the expense of the sense, is a new kind of poetick license; and it is merry enough to observe, that he literally does, what he jokingly charges upon other poets in another place:

But those that write in thyme still make
The one verse for the other's sake;
For one for sense, and one for rhyane,
I think's sufficient at one time,

Hud. p. 2, c. L. v. 29.

And up the walls he clamber'd,
With nails moft fharp and keen;
The prints whereof,

I' th' boards and roof,
Are yet for to be feen.

And out o' th' top o' th' chimney

He vanish'd, feen of none;
For they did wink,

Yet by the ftink

Knew which way he was gone.

The country round about there
Became like to a wildern-

nefs; for the fight

Of him did fright

Away men, women, and children.

Long did he there continue,

And all those parts much harmed, 'Till a wife woman, which Some call a white witch,

Him into a hogsty charmed.

There, when fhe had him fhut faft,
With brimftone and with nitre,
She fing'd the claws

Of his left paws,

With tip of his tail, and his right ear.

And with her charms and ointments
She made him tame as a spaniel;
For the us'd to ride

On his back aftride,

Nor did he do her any ill.

But to the admiration

Of all both far and near,

He hath been shown

In ev'ry town,

And eke in ev'ry fhire.

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