And granted an indulgency. Thereby to ruin Presbytry. My sceptre he did bravely sway, And punish’d those that did gainsay, By tortures that were most severe, By prisoning and loss of gear; And cruel murders many a way, Because they from my laws did stray: But kindness he did ever bear, No Pope in Rome did ever dwell, That could this noble prince excell, For in a word he did advance, My kingdom more than Rome or France: Neither Spain nor Germany, Had so much true zeal for me. He reigned long but at the last, His brother York gave him a cast. He poison’d him and made him die, And sent him home to my country; To Tophet that’s both wide and large, Which he chus’d for his heritage, Great Middleton, that man of might, My service he did never slight: To work he furiously did go, The covenants to overthrow; He like Nehustan did them treat, Like almanacks that’s out of date, He did rescind their force and power, And solemly did them abjure, He nullified all acts and laws, That favoured the scripture cause; And ruin’d many a family, For nought but non-conformity, If hirelings they would not hear, Their purse he punish’d most severe; He made the south of Scotland feel, His griping claws were made of steel, They were so crooked, hard, and sharp, They pierc’d men’s substance to the heart, The king’s commission while he did bear, Men lost their conscience, life, and gear, But Charles too soon him discarded, Yet I his kindness well rewarded; And this I hope he’ll not deny, Since now he lives as well as I. Fletcher, my friend, he was the first Advocate who did insist Against the Whigs in the king’s name, To bring them to an open shame; Charles my son did him instal, To bring these rebels under thral, Who still for covenants were pleading, To justify their old proceeding. He laboured very earnestly To please his sovereign and me, By rooting out brave Presbytery, And planting noble Prelacy; By shutting up in prison strong These men who did my interest wrong, And thristing for the blood of them Who did my government contemn; His malice was so set on fire That nothing could quench his desire, Until Argyle, mine enemy, Was brought condignly for to die; And Guthrie, who did me oppose, By hanging he his days did close; And Warriston, the worst of all, By my friend Fletcher he did fall: Thus wonderfully he did please me, When of these rebels he did ease me; For which good service he doth sit Among the princes of my pit. And my dear cousin, Provost Mill, Burnt covenants, yet thought no ill,