When through your quarters in a mean disguise He to His countrymen for succour flies, Who met a brave occasion then to save Their native King from His untimely grave: Had he from them such fair reception gain'd, Wherewith ev'n Achish David entertain'd: But faith to Him or hospitable laws In your Confederate Union were no clause, 340 Which back to you their rend'red Master sends To tell how He was us'd among his friends. Far be it from my thoughts by this black line To measure all within that warlike clime; The still admir'd Montrose some numbers led In his brave steps of loyalty to tread. I only tax a furious party there, Who with our native pests enleagued were. Then 'twas you follow'd Him with hue and cry, Made midnight searches in each liberty, 350 [Sidenote: _This Order publish'd by beat of Drum_, May 4, 1646.] Voting it Death to all without reprieve, Who should their Master harbour or relieve. Ev'n in pure pity of both Nations' fame, I wish that act in story had no name. When all your mutual stipulations are Converted at Newcastle to a fair, Where (like His Lord) the King the mart is made, Bought with Your money, and by them betrayed; For both are guilty, they that did contract, And You that did the fatal bargain act. 360 Which who by equal reason shall peruse, Must yet conclude, they had the best excuse: For doubtless they (good men) had never sold, But that you tempted them with English gold; And 'tis no wonder if with such a sum Our brethren's frailty might be overcome. What though hereafter it may prove their lot To be compared with Iscariot? Yet will the World perceive which was most wise, And who the nobler traitor by the price; 370 For though 'tis true both did themselves undo, They made the better bargain of the two, Which all may reckon who can difference Two hundred thousand pounds from thirty-pence. However something is in justice due, Which may be spoken in defence of You; For in your Master's purchase you gave more, Than all your Jewish kindred paid before. And had you wisely us'd what then you bought, Your act might be a loyal ransom thought, 380 To free from bonds your captive sovereign, Restoring Him to his lost Crown again. But You had other plots, your busy hate Plied all advantage on His fallen state, And show'd You did not come to bring Him bail, But to remove Him to a stricter gaol, To Holmby first, whence taken from His bed, He by an army was in triumph led; Till on pretence of safety Cromwell's wile Had juggl'd Him into the Fatal Isle, 390 Where Hammond for his jailor is decreed, And murderous Rolf as lieger-hangman fee'd, Who in one fatal knot two counsels tie, He must by poison or by pistol die.