By this time death and hell appear’d in the ghastly looks Of Scot and Robinson (those legislative rooks); And it must needs put the Rump most damnably off the hooks To see that when God has sent meat the Devil should send cooks. From a Rump, etc. But Providence, their old friend, brought these saints off at last, And through the pikes and the flames undismember’d they past, Although (God wet) with many struglings and much hast,— For, members, or no members, was but a measuring cast. From a Rump, etc. Being come to Whitehall, there’s the dismal mone, “Let Monk be damn’d!” cries Arthur in a terrible tone {57}— “That traytor, and those cuckoldy rogues that set him on!” (But tho’ the knight spits blood, ’tis observed that he draws none.) From a Rump, etc. “The plague bawle you!” cries Harry Martin, “you have brought us to this condition, {58} You must be canting and be plagued, with your Barebones petition, {59} And take in that bull-headed, splay-footed member of the circumcision, That bacon-faced Jew, Corbet, {60} that son of perdition!” From a Rump, etc. Then in steps driv’ling Mounson to take up the squabble, That lord which first taught the use of the woodden dagger and ladle: {61} He that out-does Jack Pudding {62} at a custard or a caudle, And were the best foole in Europe but that he wants a bauble. From a Rump, etc. More was said to little purpose,—the next news is, a declaration From the Rump, for a free state according to the covenant of the nation, And a free Parliament under oath and qualification, Where none shall be elect but members of reprobation. From a Rump, &c. Here’s the tail firk’d, a piece acted lately with great applause, With a plea for the prerogative breech and the Good old Cause, Proving that Rumps and members are antienter than laws, And that a bumme divided is never the worse for the flawes. From a Rump, etc. But all things have their period and fate, An Act of Parliament dissolves a Rump of state, Members grow weak, and tayles themselves run out of date, And yet thou shalt not dye (dear breech), thy fame I’ll celebrate. From a Rump, etc. Here lies a pack of saints that did their souls and country sell For dirt, the Devil was their good lord, him they served well; By his advice they stood and acted, and by his president they fell (Like Lucifer), making but one step betwixt heaven and hell. From a Rump insatiate as the sea Liberasti nos, Domine. THE SECOND PART OF ST GEORGE FOR ENGLAND. To the tune of “To drive the cold winter away.” (March 7, 1659.)