THE DISTRACTED PURITANE. Aм I madd, O noble Festus, When zeale and godly knowledge Have put me in hope To deal with the pope, As well as the best in the colledge? Boldly I preach, hate a crosse, hate a surplice, Mitres, copes, and rotchets : Come heare me pray nine times a day, And fill your heads with crotchets. In the house of pure Emanuel Where my friends surmise I dazeled mine eyes With the light of revelation. Boldly I preach, &c. They bound me like a bedlam, They lash't my foure poore quarters; Whilst this I endure, Faith makes me sure To be one of Foxe's martyrs, Boldly I preach, &c. These injuryes I suffer Through Anti-Christ's perswasions : Take off this chaine, Neither Rome nor Spaine Can resist my strong invasions. Boldly I preach, &c. Of the beast's ten hornes (God blesse us!) I have knockt off three already : If they let me alone, I'll leave him none; But they say I am too heady. Boldly I preach, &c. When I sack'd the seven-hill'd citty I kept him aloofe With the armour of proofe, Though here I have never a rag on. Boldly I preach, &c. With a fiery sword and targett My zeale deride, And all my deedes misconster. Boldly I preach, &c. I unhorst the whore of Babel And spill her drinck In the cupp of abominations. Boldly I preach, &c. I have seene two in a vision, Five times a yeare, And cur'd by reading Greenham. Boldly I preach, &c. I observ'd in Perkin's Tables* Soe struck in my braines, In the holy tongue of Chanaan With an Hebrew roote, That I bledd beyond all measure. Boldly I preach, &c. I appear'd before the arch-bishopp, But told him to his face That he favour'd superstition. Boldly I preach, hate a crosse, hate a surplice, Come heare me pray nine times a day, * An eminent divine of Cambridge. C. |