Rebellion hath broken up house,|
And hath left me old lumber to sell;
Come hither and take your choice,
I'll promise to use you well.
Will you buy the old Speaker's chair?
Which was warm and easy to sit in,
And oft has been clean'd, I declare,
Whereas it was fouler than fitting.
|: Says old Simon the King. :|
With his ale-dropt hose,
And his Malmsey nose,
Sing, hey ding, ding-a-ding, ding.
2. Will you buy any bacon flitches,
The fattest that ever were spent?
They're the sides of the old committees
Fed up in the Long Parliament.
Here's a pair of bellows and tongs,
And for a small matter I'll sell ye 'um,
They are made of the presbyter's lungs,
To blow up the coals of rebellion.
3. I had thought to have given them once
To some blacksmith for his forge;
But now I have consider'd on't,
They are consecrate to the Church:
So I'll give them unto some quire,
They will make the big organs roar,
And the little pipes to squeak higher
Than ever they could before.
4. Here's a couple of stools for sale,
One's square, and t'other is round;
Betwixt them both, the tail
Of the Rump fell down to the ground.
Will you buy the State's council-table,
Which was made of the good wain-Scot?
The frame was a tottering Babel,
To uphold th' Independent plot.
5. Here's the besom of Reformation,
Which should have made clean the floor;
But it swept the wealth out of the nation,
And left us dirt good store.
Will you buy the state's spinning-wheel,
Which spun for the roper's trade?
But better it had stood still,
For now it has spun a fair thread.
6. Here's a glyster-pipe well tried,
Which was made of a butcher's stump,
And has been safely applied
To cure the colds of the Rump.
Here's a lump of pilgrim's-salve,
Which once was a justice of peace,
Who Noll and the devil did serve,
But now it is come to this,
7. Here's a roll of the State's tobacco,|
If any good fellow will take it;
No Virginia had e'er such a Smack-o,
And I'll tell you how they did make it:
'Tis th' Engagement and Covenant cook't
Up with the abjuration oath,
And many of them that have took't
Complain it was foul in the mouth.
8. Yet the ashes may happily serve
To cure the scab of the nation,
Whene'er't has an itch to swerve
To rebellion by innovation.
A lanthorn here is to be bought,
The like was scarce ever gotten,
For many plots it has found out
Before they ever were thought on.
9. Will you buy the Rump's great saddle,
With which it jockey'd the nation?
And here is the bit and the bridle,
And curb of dissimulation;
And here's the trunk-hose of the Rump,
And their fair dissembling cloak;
And a Presbyterian jump,
With an Independent smock.
10. Will you buy a conscience oft turn'd,
Which served the High-Court of justice,
And stretch'd until England it mourn'd,
But hell will buy that if the worst is.
Here's Joan Cromwell's kitchen-stuff tub,
Wherein is the fat of the Rumpers,
With which old Noll's horns she did rub,
When he was got drunk with false bumbers.
11. Here's the purse of the public faith;
Here's the model of the Sequestration,
When the old wives upon their good troth
Lent thimbles to ruin the nation.
Here's Dick Cromwell's Protectorship,
And here are Lambert's commissions,
And here is Hugh Peters his scrip,
Cramm'd with tumultuous petitions.
12. And here are old Noll's brewing vessels,
And here are his dray and his flings;
Here are Hewson's (1) awl and his bristles,
With diverse other odd things:
And what is the price doth belong
To all these matters before ye?
I'll sell them all for an old song,
And so I do end my story.