1682.—From the Roxburgh Ballads. To the tune of “The King enjoys his own,” &c. THE Whigs are but small, and of no good race, And are beloved by very few; Old _Tony_ broach’d his tap in every place, To encourage all his factious crew. At some great houses in this town, The Whigs of high renown, And all with a true blue was their stain; For since it is so, They have wrought their overthrow, Old Tony _will ne’r enjoy his own_, _again_. They all owne duty to their lawful prince, And loyal subjects should have been; But their duty is worn out long since, By the _Association_ seen. But these are the Whigs, That have cut off some legs, And fain would be at that sport amain; For since it is so, They have wrought their overthrow, Old Tony _will ne’r enjoy his own again_. And yet they are sham-pretenders, And they swear they’ll support our laws; These be the great defenders of _Ignoramus_ and the _Old Cause_: They’ll defend the King By swearing of the thing, These are the cursed rogues in grain; For since it is so, They have wrought their overthrow, Old Tony _will ne’r enjoy his own again_. The true religion that shall down, Which so long has won the day, And _Common-prayer_ i’th’ church of ev’ry town, If that the Whigs could but bear the sway: For Oates he does begin Now for to bring them in, As when he came mumping from Spain; For since it is so, They have wrought their overthrow, Old Tony _will ne’r enjoy his own again_. How all their shamming plots they would hide, Yet they are ignorant, they say, When as Old _Tony_ he was try’d And brought off with _Ignoramus_ sway: When Oates he was dumb And could not use his tongue, This is the shamming rogues in grain; For since it is so, They have wrought their overthrow, Old Tony _will ne’r enjoy his own again_. Then let all true subjects sing, And damn the power of all those That won’t show loyalty to their King, And assist him against his Whiggish foes. Then in this our happy state, In spight of traytors’ hate, We will all loyal still remain; For since it is so, They have wrought their overthrow, Old Tony _will ne’r enjoy his own again_. God preserve our gracious King, With the Royal Consort of his bed, And let all loyal subjects sing That the crown may remain on Charles’s head; For we will drink his health In spight of _Common-wealth_, And his lawful rights we will maintain; For since it is so, They have wrought their overthrow, Old Tony _will ne’r enjoy his own again_. Printed for S. Maurel, in the year 1682.