[Roxburghe Collection, III. 915.] Iter Boreale; Or, Tpburn in Mourning for the Loss of a Saint. A NEW SONG, TO THE TUNE OF, Now ye Toryes that Glories. Written by J. D. Ehold Great Heaven's Protection, Behovah Frowns for to see Pretended Zeal claim Election Great Charles, in spight of all Treason, He rules by Law and by Reason, Whilst Whigg melts in his own Grease: Flye, O flye, ye Base Sons of se Poland or Holland will hide such Bores, For nothing but Royalty, Loyalty, The Be[th]ellites are in mourning To see their Syre so Cold: 7 14 [See opposite. 158 J.D.'s Iter Boreale. To Prayers, ye Pestilent Whiggs, 21 Hamburgh once again take thy own, Tyburn long for thy Son doth Groan; Cromwel's disturb'd with her making moan, 28 Then let us be Merry, drink Sherry, Whine louder, ye Priests of the Zealous,1 Why do ye Deceive us, and tell us You travel in Heaven's Affairs? What Saint e're came, or Professor, From [the] Grave to teach to Dethrone Your lawful King and Successor, Whom next to Heaven we own? If these be Tricks of your Whiggish Tribe, No Saint will ever the Devil chide; [=travail 35 Though in the bottom of Hell he hide Such Lovers of Kings the wrong way: Then Hey! Boys, Trounce it and Bounce it, For Monarchy gets the Day. Must Nine-penny Esquire be forgotten ? 2 O! do not to memory bring Those Hamburgh Sayings, where Hot ones; 66 42 [were? Puueq Rogue, did'st thou Murder the K[ing]?" Must still the Zealous o'er rule us; Shall Council Gowns be above Then Hey! Boyes, Laugh it and Quaffe it, 56 1 Refers to Robert Ferguson, on whom see late pages of final Monmouth Group. 2 Probably John Hampden, Esquire; of whom anon, in the Rye-House Plot. 3 Sir John Moore, chosen Lord Mayor of London, 1681, a strong Tory. Tyburn in mourning for loss of Saint Bethel. 159 Be gone, base Sons of the Nation, That Love not the Power of Kings; Go, seek Dad Be[th]el's new Station, Take with you your New Friend Pa[pillion],1 Let Love and Loyalty once more Reign 63 Within your breasts, for great Charlemaine, [=Chas. II. Then Hey! Boyes, Drink it, ne'r Shrink it, Here's a Health to the King and Court! London: Printed for C. Tebroc, Anno Dom. 1682. 70 [C. Tebroc is disguise-reversal for Charles Corbet. White-letter. No woodcut.] We have again incidentally mentioned John Dryden (in disclaiming for him the authorship of the preceding Roxburghe Ballad by a different "J. D.”), and must allude to the spiteful reprint by John Smith, in 1681, of An Elegy on the Usurper O[liver] C[romwell], by the Author of Absalom and Achitophel : published to shew the Loyalty and Integrity of the Poet: beginning : And now 'tis time: for their officious haste, But, as this unauthorized reprint is virtually unknown, we here give the Postscript appended on the other side of the sheet, pretending to be also from Dryden's hand. It betrays the malignity of Dryden's foes, who desired to stop his pension. Postscript. The of beats I in Rose-Alley bore.2 He Printing of these Rhimes afflicts me more This shows my nauseous Mercenary Pen This may prevent the pay for which I write; For I for pay against my Conscience fight. I must confess so infamous a Knave Can do no Service, though the humblest Slave. [i.e. L'Estrange. 1 Thomas Papillion of Fenchurch Street was committed to the Marshalsea, for the Pritchard fine; he fled to Holland in November, 1684, and came back along with Slingsby Bethel, and other "returned empties," in February, 1685. 2 A brutal reference to the outrage on Dryden, December 18, 1679. The repetition of the same mean taunt is found in Samuel Pordage's verses, The Medal Revers'd: A Satyre against Persecution, By the Author of Azaria and Hushai. London: Printed for Charles Lee. Anno 1682 (beginning, "How easie 'tis to sail with wind and tide"): wherein we read, This well the author of the Medal knew, When Oliver he for an Hero drew. He then swam with the Tide; appear'd a Saint, When the Tide turn'd, then strait about he veers, Thus continued" Lame Mephibosheth, the Wizard's son," his contest with Dryden. "See his Poem upon Given in Italic type, and with this explanatory Note: THE Content's a Treasure. "I am content, I do not care, Wag as it will the world for me; It got no ground that I could see; I counted cost, and was content."-John Byrom. HE Return of the Duke of York from Scotland gave satisfaction to those who saw to what ruinous extremes the revolutionary intrigues and tumults of the Shaftesbury faction were tending, with Monmouth as the future puppet king. One outburst of loyalty is the spirited Roxburghe Ballad following immediately. It was sung to the popular tune called (from the burden) And a Begging we will go; or (from the first line of the original song), "There was a jovial Beggar: "for which see Bagford Ballads, p. 216. The Jovial Loyalist, who here presents himself before us, is a rollicking soul who feels no desire to enter into any plots whatever, loves his lass and his tipple, pays his dues if cash be ready, and does not injure his digestion by considering abstruse questions of casuistry. If called on to fight for the King, or for the King's Royal Brother, he will answer the demand bravely, and do his best to punish rebellion, without hair-splitting. But, on the whole, he prefers claret to a carbine, and a set of boon companions to meeting conventiclers, either as friends or foes. He stands up for his Queen also, Catharine of Braganza, so long as he is able to keep the perpendicular, and treats with contempt the base allegations of Titus Oates against her. He is even so complaisant (if liquor be good) as to drink the health of him whom he styles "the Prince," though there can be little enjoyment in it if he means Prince George of Denmark; still less if it be William of Orange. Mihi est propositum in Taberná mori, Ut dicant, cum Venerint, Angelorum chori, So sang worthy Walter de Mapes, beginning his carol; which in the happiest mood genial Leigh Hunt translated, a little too late for our "Jovial Loyalist " : I devise to end my days, in a Tavern, drinking, May some Christian hold for me the glass when I am shrinking, "God be merciful to a Soul of this gentleman's way of thinking!" VOL. V. M |