A New BALLAD.
The Triumph of Justice.

A New BALLAD.
The Triumph of Justice.

Being the Last SPEECH and CONFESSION of Nine Malefactors,
and Betrayers of the Lives and Liberties of the Good People of ENGLAND.
But few Examples here are made
Of such as have our Laws betray'd:
The rest that have as ill Deserv'd
For the next Sessions are Reserv'd.
To the Tune of Packingtons Pound.

Packingtons Pound

I Am glad the happy Time is come, when Justice dare appear in open view. I am blind indeed, to signify my impartial Dispensation of Justice to all the World; but tho my Eyes are shut, my Ears are always open to the Complaints of Mankind; and amongst all the Countries I preside over, no Place has so bewailed my Absence as England. This has been
the most unhappy Nation in the World. This Place has bred the Monsters of Mankind, and under what Villanies has this brave People groan'd for many Years? But now, my Friends, I JUSTICE am return'd; and so long as you maintain your Noble English Principles, I will never forsake you: And that you may believe I resolve to establish you upon
the firmest Foundation, I have brought some of the Betrayers of your Country to be punish'd in the sight of this Great People. I have weighed these Men in my Ballance, and have found them the lightest that ever these Scals bore; therefore now my Sword takes place, I have brought them to Judgment, and will attend their Execution, and let all the Nation Triumph: for by such Sacrifices Heaven is appeased.

GOOD English-men, Women and Children give ear,
Unto the Confesson that we shall rehearse,
'Tis the dolefullest Story you ever did hear,
By ourselves writ in Prose, by Friend Bayes put in Verse.
To be great was my Scope,
To the Devil and Pope,
A Slave to Ambition, that ends in a Rope;
For betraying Fair London, her Gates claim my Quarters,
Take warning by me ye Supplanters of Charters.

I car'd not for Precedent, Conscience or Law,
Bear witness all you whom I have hang'd in the West,
If ever I valu'd Mens Lives of a Straw,
But could sentence a Prisoner, and then break a Jest.
The Sword and the Gun
Left the Work but half done,
My Breath more destructive, slew Ten for their One;
For I never gave Quarter where once I did seize,
The World curs'd me for't, but I knew whom to please.

On the Bench I could roar till I made the Walls shake,
In Court Ecclesiastick could hector the Church;
An Evidence too for a need I could make,
E're I'd suffer the Cause to be left in the Lurch.
the Curtains I got,
Spy'd a Child reaking hot,
Which the Mother n'ere bore, nor the Father n'ere got:
My Eyes are the Vouchers of what I depose,
If you question my Eyes, I appeal to my Nose.

In Wapping at last I was snap'd by surprize,
Thence dragg'd like a Varlet before my Lord-Mayor,
Where I had the Honour, in spight of Disguise,
Out of his small Senses his Lordship to scare:
Thus much by the way
Of Caution to say,
Seem'd needful, for those that their Country betray,
'Twill sooner or later bring hanging about,
So farewel, and take notice that now my Dream's out.

'TIS Matter of wonderment, how such a Varlet
As I am, and of so vile Reputation,
Should all on a sudden be clothed in Scarlet,
Of Old none but Lawyers were fit for that Station:
best to be plain,
To conceal 't is in vain,
It was to hang Armstrong that thither I came.
And if you'l know more, give ear, I beseech,
To the words of Lord Wem, in an Eloquent Speech.

The Office of Judg, 'tis true, it a Trust is,
And that you, Brother Hol. are not fit for that Place,
Because, it is plain, you want Sense, Law, and Justice.
Dispence with the Laws, we'll dispence in that Case:
Do but do as you'r bid,
You shall never be chid;
I may ride Tantivy, but you must be rid.
Young Jack will get practice, who at present has none;
So that I'm to be hang'd for the Good of my Son.

ABhorring Petitions brought me into Play,
It dubb'd me a Knight, and it made me a Judg,
I resolv'd for Advancement, I car'd not what way;
And now have Preferment that no Man will grudg:
To comply with the Court,
Without Precedent for't,
I thought three miles Whipping a Progress too short:

A Sentence that made me abhorr'd by Mankind,
Yet was sorry that I no worse Penance could find.

On Jefferies I fastened, and stuck like a Bur,
Like a Dog lick'd his Feet, slunk my Tail, hung my Ears;
But at last my Patroon kick'd me out like a Cur;
A Misfortune that then cost me many Salt Tears.
Ye Perverters of Law,
Before I withdraw,
Take a word of Good Counsel to keep you in awe:
Dispensers with Laws may escape for a Time,
But Tyburn will never dispense with the Crime.

SUborners were we, by some call'd the Pope's Mutes,
Enrich'd by destroying of Free Corporations,
And now of our Treachery reap the Just Fruits,
Who for Pelf made no Bones of destroying three Nations.
Such an infamous Brace,
Does the Gallows Disgrace,
And makes ev'n the Hangman asham'd of his Place:
He grudges his Office on such wicked Elves,
And could wish for his Part we had hanged ourselves.

Like Villains abandoning Conscience and Shame,
No Practice we baulk'd, but could Bribe, Forge and Lie;
Like Blood-hounds could dext'rously find out the Game,
While a Kennel of Witnesses kept up the Cry.
To Collogue with the Court,
Of Mens Lives we made sport;
Old Dogs at Intrigues, but now must swing for't,
With a Leash of vile Foremen of Juries that follows,
Whom we then brought to Murders, and now to the Gallows.

MAke room for such Varlets as n'ere cumber'd Sledg,
The perjur'd vile Juries three Foremen are we,
Our Number falls right, and we claim priviledg
T' have each Man his Beam on the Triangle Tree.
In Verdict agreed,
Like a true Tory Breed,
To shew ourselves Loyal, made th' Innocent Bleed:
And after like Miscreants bragg'd of our Jobbs,
But we must give place to our Orator Nobbs.

ROom, room for Old Roger, the Scourge of the Nation,
Through all my Disguises I cannot escape,
I had better have stuck to my Trade of Translation,
Than have undertook to be guide to the Crape:
I instructed the Raw,
And taught them to draw
Good sound true Divinity out of false Law:
Till Preachers and Pleaders came down with their Guinies,
Which I pocketed up, and then laugh'd at the Ninnies.

The Rights of the Subject by me were well known;
The Frame of our Government none better knew:
I wrote 'gainst my Conscience, and Knowledg, I own,
But with Fools, not Philosophers, I had to do.
Take warning each Wight
That for Pensions do write,
The practice may make a poor Scoundrel a Knight:
But when you have Scribled, Buffoon'd, and Harangu'd,
Th' next step of Preferment will be to be Hang'd.


FINIS.

hanging

Tyburn

https://ebba.english.ucsb.edu/ballad/32789/image