%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> An ACCOUNT of an / APPARITION / That appeared to TITUS OATES. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer 1673-1673 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 07/09/2014 33713

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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

R33597 SOme night late past, as I (accursed) lay, / Tumbling and Tossing, wishing long for day; Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 1082 An ACCOUNT of an / APPARITION / That appeared to TITUS OATES. An ACCOUNT of an APPARITION That appeared to TITUS OATES. 1673-1673 Nat. Thompson

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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 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 7/9/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America affliction/ health punishment religious concepts supernatural/ magic Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 7/9/2014 3:01:36 PM XBallad Casavant, Alex Created XML Version of Ballad 7/9/2014 3:01:36 PM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/9/2014 3:01:36 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Doran, Thomas Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/9/2014 3:01:36 PM Transcriptionist Two Jaworski, Cheryl Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/9/2014 3:01:36 PM Transcriptionist One Gutierrez-Jones, Natalia Transcription of ballad manuscript 2/3/2013 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/15/2012 Bibliographer William Hildalgo Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 10/14/2013 Checker Phillip Cortez Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/14/2013 Checker Phillip Cortez Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 10/14/2013 Checker Phillip Cortez Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">An ACCOUNT of an</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">APPARITION</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">That appeared to TITUS OATES.</hi></seg>
SOme night late past, as I (accursed) lay, Tumbling and Tossing, wishing long for day; Just fallen into a Sleep, I did Espy (Methought) some frightful Things approaching nye My trembling Bed: Those who at first appear'd, Were naked Men with Crimson Blood besmeer'd, Dragging their Bowells trayling at their Heel, Their Breasts ript open, wanted Hearts to feel: They gently came, and drew near to my Bed, Shew'd what, and who they were but nothing said; At which I then (though ne'er before) turn'd red: In every Gesture you might plainly find, A Soul compos'd, and a well order'd mind, They knew me not, their Thoughts did soar more high, Their Eyes and Thoughts were fix'd above the Sky: But with true Consort each did Sing this Song, O Lord most Holy, Lord most Just, how long? Just following them, came Two so closely joyn'd As Matrimonial Bands had e're design'd; For Man and Wife, (Perhaps they so might be,) The one drest Man-like, t'other contrary; The Robes he wore were of a Scarlet dye, Of Aspect Reverend, full of Gravity: In whose right Hand fast held (me thought) I saw A Book, Intituled, Govern by the Law. Her Dress as Vestal Nuns are made to wear, From Head to Foot, did purely White appear; Whose Eyes were Cover'd with the Finest Lawn; In her right Hand a Naked Sword was drawn, Pointed towards me, at which I trembled more, Then at the Bleeding sight I nam'd before. As if she knew me, she did boldly come, Inquir'd for Conscience, I reply'd, from 'home; Quoth she, How long? I said, I cou'd not tell, She very seldom us'd with Me to dwell. Then with a Bold (I thought commanding) word To th' Scarlet Gown cryes, Judgment give my Lord. He
He seem'd reserv'd, and would but little say, Yet shook his Head, Look'd Stearn, and went away, With threatning Signs of a severer day. At whch I wak'd from that most dismal Dream. And thus I write upon the Tragyck Theme. Alas those inward Pangs I hourly feel, Are now grown greater than I can reveal, None e're more sensibly than I, cou'd tell, How like a wounded Conscience is to Hell: My crying Crimes, like Vipers dayly tear My Bleeding Intralls, and Im all dispair: The Fate of Judas was more mild than mine, He shew'd Repentance of his Treacherous Crime: Favour was granted to that Cursed Elf, And strength of Mind enough to hang Himself. But I more miserable far than He Who dare not do what none will do for me, Ungrateful Ketch where's thy Civility! You know that lately, might I had my Will, And Cornishes and Bethels Sheriffs still, I wou'd have sworn whilst Death had Power to Kill, And was in all Superlatively ill. For I, more fierce than all the Devils, hurl'd, And strove to turn to Chaos all the World: For which Im Plagu'd, and Burn with more than fire, By the strict Vengeance of th' Almighties Ire. To Heaven I dare not look, that Glorious Throne Did evermore my Hateful Crimes disown. Th' Infernal Spirits seem to dread me too, Or envy that my Crimes did Theirs out-do. Proscrib'd by all, Where Wretched shall I flye? To hide my Guilt from GOD's All-searching Eye. ---------But hold, have I not read Pythagoras Faith, and what th' Egyptians said Of Transmigration of the Souls of Men, Into some Birds or Beasts, alas! What then? Where may I search? for either Beast or Fowl Deserves the Plague of such a Loaded Soul? What Land e'r so accurst as to produce So foul a Creature, to so foul a Use, Unless perhaps on that Unhallow'd Ground Where my Learn'd Tutor dy'd, such may be found. If that proves true, then Titus thou art blest, And in that hope, accursed Oates take Rest.
By ANTHONY HARRIS. Printed by Nat. Thompson at the Entrance into the Old Spring- Garden, near Charing-Cross. 1684.