%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The Turne of Time, / OR, / The Period of Rebellion Dedicated, to the infamous Members late / Sitting at Westminster. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1648-1648 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 05/07/2012 32398

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

R1680 NOw now, your gone I vow, / and all your treasons blasted. Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 180181 The Turne of Time, / OR, / The Period of Rebellion Dedicated, to the infamous Members late / Sitting at Westminster. The Turne of Time, OR, The Period of Rebellion Dedicated, to the infamous Members late Sitting at Westminster. The Turn of Time, OR, The Period of Rebellion Dedicated, to the infamous Members late Sitting at Westminster. 1648-1648

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 5/7/2012 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America country/ nation military/ war politics/ government royalty Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 5/7/2012 1:12:00 PM XBallad Kroeze, Kathryn Created XML Version of Ballad 5/7/2012 1:12:00 PM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/7/2012 1:12:00 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/7/2012 1:12:00 PM Transcriptionist Two Shaughnessy, Elizabeth Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/7/2012 1:12:00 PM Transcriptionist One Lester, Hillary Transcription of ballad manuscript 8/11/2011 Checker Percy Ross Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 5/9/2011 Bibliographer Shannon Meyer Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
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1. NOw now, your gone I vow, and all your treasons blasted. Vengeance no longer will allow what seaven yeares hath lasted. Then shut up shop, and take your heeles, and with all speed away. Pride, totters, and Rebellion reeles; hey for Utopia. 2. Your damned plots, and jealousies, your Schismes, and your feares, Your Oaths and your conspiracies apparantly appeares. Then put to Sea, avoid delay for CHARLES, must once more Reigne. You are but dead if that you stay, or ere returne againe. 3. Thers some that say; you went away because a stinking vault, Beneath your House of mischiefe lay; O privie! much in fault, To drive away so rare a crew by thy most noisome smell. In Pilgrims weeds we will thee view, no lakes, but holy Cell; 4. But fie no, it is not so, no execrement could drive The Saints from their Seraglio, who for a crowne durst strive. It was the feare, of CHARLES returne, that sent the Members packing. The tripple tree, they feard to see; they hate the thought of racking. 5. Since you intend; nere to depend, a Presbeterian mule; Bridled, and Saddled doth attend, a bonny blew Capt. Fule. Will lackey by you, till you come, within the sight of * Scone, Where Mahomets Elizium, you shall possesse, alone. *a City in the heart of Scotland. 6. O rare! mee thinks, the Devill winks, and all the powers below; Are puzeld, Machavill he thinks, his sonnes, doe stupid grow. And Cattaline is angry much, that traytors worse then he: Should fall when as, their hopes were such; with Nimrod, great to be. 7. Now all your plots, joynd with the Scots, doe not the least availe you; For why, these hardy Northen sots, meane shortly to assaile you. Their high Sanhedrim angry are, their Coblers, and Sow-gelders, Must not the sweets of England share; and be adopted Elders.
8. Nor is this all, like to befall; beave Poyers Myrmidons, Resolved are, for buriall, like Mars, his dearest sonnes. And to the death for to oppose, your trayterous commands They sweare tis fit, you should not sit while Pembrooke, Castle stands. 9. Your most adulterated Church the Synods prostitute, You now alas leave in the lurch, for Marshall, is growne mute; Her vitiation, we deplore, her sorrow is our truth. But shortly we will her restore, to her first forme, and truth. 10. This most unexpiated sin, will sure your ruine be; And sincke you all for what hath bin, to hells profundity. Medea like to cure our ill, our age for to renew. You did our ancient order kill, and yet we want, a new. 11. While you your Babell doe erect, in one hand thers a sword; Your enterprise for to protect, by all men so abhord. And in the other hand you beare a trowell stones to lay; But now the Walles, you never reare, your workmen want their pay. 12. While that the King, was governing, ere your damnd treasons was. Loyalty was a golden thing, and England walled with brasse. But we are now, of nothing sure, but Blasphemies and errors. And are in nothing now secure, but that we know, our terrors: 13. Cheare up againe, dread Soveraigne, now lockt up in a cage. Behold to set thee up againe, in Warlike equipage. All England ready are to rise; the Scots too, needs will fight. And for the time to come be wise, nere more resigne thy right. 14. And Hammond, thou AEgyptian Dog; thou monster of mankind, Thou worse then a Molo[?]ian Hog, who bearest a Judas mind. Prepare thy selfe, to die a death, no traytor ever knew. By tortures to resign thy breath, in all the peoples view.
15. His Majestie, thy livery, upon his eye doth weare; Both black and blew, beaten by thee, O Devill! void of feare, His fare is poore, two varlets base, doe only on him wait. O direfull execrable case! is this King CRARLES his Fate. 16. But Harry Martin laughs at this, and Say doth say tis well. Cromwell, esteemes it his chiefe blisse, of Hammonds guize, to tell. Tom Fairfax, sweares this makes for him, Ranisborow skips for joy. And Barkstead, drinks bowels to the brim, healthes, to the Kings anoy. 17. But Martin now, thy fate I vow, is very neare at hand. What strength, the pocks will thee alow, which hath eate up thy land. And shortly, will thy body too; now summon up to save thee. Else Gregory, will claime his due and then the Devill have thee. 18 And Nol, thy end, is nere at hand, thy Kingdome is departed. Thou must no longer rule the land, but as a Rogue be Carted. And by a Carmans blessed guide, visit the fatall tree. Then theres an end of all thy pride, and thy base treacherie. 19, Ye twins in mischiefe Say, and Tom, two Rebells, chiefst in action; To pluck King CHARLES, his glory from, and so support your faction. Behold a Sledge, an Axe, and fire, a hangman, ready too. Stands ready to give you your hire, who all Ils, durst to doe. 20. And Rainsborow, thy Reigne is out, great Admirall at Sea. It were a sinne thy fall to doubt, O Skipper! of Degree. And Barkstead, thou ere long alas; White-hall, must yield perforce. Great Kings nere built that stately Masse, to shelter foot, and horse. 21. The turne of time, we now have seen Rebellions, on the ground; While we crie God save King and Queene; let Drums, and Trumpets sound. Let all the people now sing loud in mirthfull joyous sort. Hang all the Parliants base crowd but God preserve the Court.
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