%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> An ELEGY / On the Death of (the much to be lamented) / Anthony K. of Poland, University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 06/22/2014 33085

The University of California makes a claim of copyright only to original contributions made by Early Modern Center participants and other members of the university community. The University of California makes no claim of copyright to the original text. Permission is granted to download, transmit or otherwise reproduce, distribute or display the contributions to this work claimed by The University of California for non-profit educational purposes, provided that this header is included in its entirety. For inquiries about commercial uses, please contact:

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

R221182 The busie Toney, who by Toil unblest / Torments himself, to break his Countreys Rest; Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 361 An ELEGY / On the Death of (the much to be lamented) / Anthony K. of Poland, An ELEGY On the Death of (the much to be lamented) Anthony K. of Poland, ?-?

This document follows the guidelines specified for TEI.

XML Generated Automatically at 6/22/2014 1:54:22 PM Using EMC

XBallad Parsing Engine developed by Carl G Stahmer.

TEI Template developed by Gerald Egan and Modified by Carl Stahmer

All apostrophes are encoded as '.

Any dashs occurring in line breaks have been removed;

All dashs are encoded as ‐ and all em dashes as —.

 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 Featured 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 6/22/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America death politics/ government religious groups Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/22/2014 1:54:22 PM XBallad Chow, Jeremy Created XML Version of Ballad 6/22/2014 1:54:22 PM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/22/2014 1:54:22 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/22/2014 1:54:22 PM Transcriptionist Two Pedersen, Emily Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/22/2014 1:54:22 PM Transcriptionist One Ortiz Mazariegos, Jennifer Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/18/2014 Checker Charlotte Becker Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 4/18/2014 Checker Charlotte Becker Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 4/18/2014 Checker Charlotte Becker Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/29/2012 Checker Olivia Miller Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/23/2012 Bibliographer Olivia Miller Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">An ELEGY</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">On the Death of (the much to be lamented)</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left">Anthony King of Poland,</seg>
THe busie Toney, who by Toil unblest Torments himself, to break his Countreys Rest; Who, ceasing to be Engineer of State, Turn'd Rogue, yet could not turn the Wheels of Fate: Like Sysyphus, he rowls his Stone in vain; Death plucks his Tap, and ends his PLOTS and Pain. The Graves long Pampus Rebels must pass o're; Thence restless Raskals can return no more. Wretch of 3 Names farwel! Thy Deaths kind stretch, Secures Thee from the Sword and Axes reach; Thy Life, Old Tricker, stood in Fate so high, That Hang-man's hand was fit to make Thee die; Yes, Hang-man only frames Thy Funeral Urn: Less man than Hang-man Traytors shall not burn. What did Old Solon and Lycurgus do? They went to Amsterdam, and died too. Whil'st Belgick Boor Thee and Thy Tap Entombs, And tryumphs in the Brandy he assumes; Boor, who (in burying Thee) hath done much more, Than Trump or Opdam, who were dead before; Boor, with bright Spade, does more in Thy one Grave, Than in all Graves that his bright Spade e'r gave. Trick on, trick on, thou Will-with'-Wisp! now make New Broils in Hell, and never Requiem take, With Plots and Popery keep the Devil awake. May Thy tormented Ghost walk a large round, And its deserved Punishment resound, Till Carolina shall agasted stand, Mourning Kid-napper, who supply'd her Land: Let partial Whigs, through their false Opticks, find Thy Worth, and ever be, like Thee, half blind. Let Factious Varlets monstrous forms suggest; Such Ravens shall never croak i' th' Eagles Nest: Rail on, Phanaticks, vent your envious Gall, Your Toneys Tapping Arts have spoil'd ye all; From Meeting-house dissolved Tubs shall throw, And sneaking Tubster send to th' Room below: Yes, Mouse-trap-man, Thy rotten Loins lay down; Seducer of the Rabble, scorn o' th' Crown; In Treach'rous Arts and Trayt'rous Hearts so learn'd, His weight all hands of Whimsey-boards still turn'd: To him Rebellions Genius bended low; The Thrones Friend, when at th' Helm, when not, its Foe. If the worst gifts Malignant Stars dispense, If mis-applied strength of Wit and Sense, For lasting Infamy Foundations lay, No greater Kn--- was ever cloath'd in Clay; His restless Orb of Shams went swiftly round, And none but Raskals his kind Influence found: His gentler Rays, and Life-creating heat, The Land of Whigs and Betty Morris met: Th' unthinking Crowd he courted, and alone He dreamt to domineer i' th' British Zone. But, lost in his own Maze, he doth engage, With eager Malice, and with lasting rage; His Brain more hot than Copper-kettle boils, In Shops of Cooks about Py-corner-Piles. But Hells kind Call hath all his Consults crost; Hell, that hath plac'd him on a fiery Coast; Through glass he peeps, and sees his Tricks and Trick-ers lost. EPITAPH. UNder this Stone doth rotting lie All th' Devil has left of S---------y: No Funeral Tears, nor weeping Eyes The melting Sisterhood denies; Whilst Mine-heer thinks his Death to be A joyful Brandy-Jubilee. A firmer Friend to PLOTS and Pride In Holland heretofore ne'r dy'd; For which His Odious Name below, His Soul's above in Heaven. Oh no! It found no Lodging there, if He Speak Truth who always kept the Key: Adjudg'd to sit i' th' hottest Seat, The little Guest will do some Feat; And a fresh Fire in Hell will light, To entertain the wand'ring Salamanca-Wight.
LONDON, Printed Anno Domini, MDCLXXXIII.