Indeed, brother burgess, your ling did never stink half so bad, Nor did your habberdin when it no pease-straw had; Ye both were chose together, ’cause ye wore stuff cloaks in hard weather, And Cambridge needs would have a burgess fool and knave. Sing hi ho, John Lowry, {79} concerning habberdin, No member spake before ye, yet you ne’re spoke againe. Sing hi, ho, etc. Ned Prideaux {80} he went post to tell the Protector the news, That Fleetwood ruld the rost, having tane off Dicke’s shoes. And that he did believe, Lambert would him deceive As he his brother had gull’d, and Cromwell Fairfax bull’d. Sing hi ho, the attorney was still at your command; In flames together burn ye, still dancing hand in hand! Sing hi ho, etc. Who’s that would hide his face, and his neck from the collar pull? He must appear in this place, if his cap be made of wool. Who is it? with a vengeance! it is the good Lord St Johns, {81} Who made God’s house to fall, to build his own withall. Sing hi ho, who comes there? who ’tis I must not say; But by his dark lanthorn, I sweare he’s as good in the night as day. Sing hi ho, etc. Edge, brethren, room for one that looks as big as the best; ’Tis pity to leave him alone, for he is as good as the rest; No picklock of the laws, he builds among the daws, If you ha’ any more kings to murder, for a President look no further. Sing hi ho, John Bradshaw, in blood none further engages; The Devil from whom he had’s law, will shortly pay him his wages. Sing hi ho, etc. Next, Peagoose Wild, {82} come in to show your weesle face, And tell us Burley’s sin, whose blood bought you your place; When loyalty was a crime, he lived in a dangerous time, Was forced to pay his neck to make you baron of the cheque. Sing hi ho, Jack Straw, we’ll put it in the margent, ’Twas not for justice or law that you were made a sergeant. Sing hi ho, etc. Noll served not Satan faster, nor with him did better accord; For he was my good master, and the Devil was his good lord. Both Slingsby, Gerard, and Hewet, {83} were sure enough to go to it, According to his intent, that chose me President. Sing hi ho, Lord Lisle, {84} sure law had got a wrench, And where was justice the while, when you sate on the bench. Sing hi ho, etc. Next comes the good Lord Keble, of the Triumvirate, Of the seal in the law but feeble, though on the bench he sate; For when one puts him a case, I wish him out of the place, And, if it were not a sin, an able lawyer in. Sing, give the seal about, I’de have it so the rather, Because we might get out the knave, my lord, my father. Sing hi ho, etc.