%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> THE / PRESBYTERY / A SATYR. / Turba gravis paci placidoque inimico quieti. 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 07/15/2014 34238

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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

R182024 AS Alexanders hastned death did bring / Each of his Captaines to be made a King, Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 120 THE / PRESBYTERY / A SATYR. / Turba gravis paci placidoque inimico quieti. THE PRESBYTERY A SATYR. Turba gravis paci placidoque inimico quieti. THE PRESBYTERY A SATYR. Turba gravis paci placidoque inimico quieti. ?-?

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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 7/15/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America religious concepts religious figures religious groups virtue Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 7/15/2014 4:43:46 PM XBallad Bell, Erik Created XML Version of Ballad 7/15/2014 4:43:46 PM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/15/2014 4:43:46 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/15/2014 4:43:46 PM Transcriptionist Two White, Sedella Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/15/2014 4:43:46 PM Transcriptionist One Choate, Katie Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/30/2014 Checker Nicole Dib Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 12/5/2012 Bibliographer Elizabeth Aguilar Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 12/5/2012 Checker Elizabeth Aguilar Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/27/2014 Checker Tom Doran Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
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AS Alexanders hastned death did bring Each of his Captaines to be made a King, Even so our Bishops ruines did preferre Unto a Bishopricke each Presbyter; But the same dangers from their league arise, As ever did from th'others enmities; Yet here they differ, th'other did advance By their owne worth, these by their ignorance; Th'other were great before, these till their raigne Did first begin, were scarcely knowne for men; Th'other were fit to governe, so are these, As fit as Milk-Maids to weare Harnesses: Fine soules indeed! curdled of stench and dust, Borne for to break poore Chambermaids that rust For want of use, fine motly Prester-Johns, Old Pharises in new Editions; Young Blew-cap Jesuites, Religions Dawes, A Junto of Reformed Loyola's; Good Pulpit-Mountebankes, who with one breath Can either Quack a Spirituall Cure, or Death; Antipodes of Rome, who though their feet Seeme contrary, yet in one Centre meet; Spruce Christian Muftyes, but that Muftyes be Continued, these a sever'd quantitie, Who out of many Beads one Bracelet rise, And (if they be not hang'd up) make a noyse; Most holy Gegawes, which make Elders dance, But you are strucke by Scotch Musicians; Rattles of th'Gospel, which so active be, That deafen all the better Harmonie: Dodona's Grove, or whatsoever Knockes Will say, yo' are nothing else but vocall blockes, And yet from every trunck we almost see, Arise an Evangelicke Mercurie; Things, which in nothing but their lyes come neere The nature of the name they seeme to beare; Serious Jack-Puddings of Religion, The Antimasque of Reformation; The Phosphors of new light, those spots that run (To stop, not cleere the light) amidst the Sun; Geneva Fryars, they (with submission) lye, That say we'ave rooted out all Popery; Their Capes preserve it, onely that their hopes, Aspire unto plurality of Popes: That which poor Canterbury nere profest, Is now made good by every Parish-Priest, Brave times indeed! 'las whither are we hurl'd? What universall madnesse shakes the world? What is all space so empty, earth must come, And mount aloft to fill a Vacuum? Are our eares charm'd, that now all sounds displease, But a Scotch Bag-pipe? 'las what dayes are these! Wolsey might be a Deacon, and here con A farther lesson of Ambition: Nay, Machiavel, if he were now alive, Would he but change Religion, might thrive; Religion! 'las it is a crazie frame, And somewhat like the Synod, onely name, Which like the great Mogores renowned sway, The most are pleas'd to mention, none obey, Which like some glorious City ruined long, Do's onely live in Paper and the Tongue.
Religion, which a blind man well might call Immense, but one that's deafe, not finde at all, That which the world doth generally disguise, That stamp by which all knavery currant is; Art thou thy selfe, great Nymph? or else doe some Deflowre thee, nay force thee away from home, And make thee doe their drudgery? O spleen, Couldst thou but rise as some lungs stretch'd ha been, Thou mightst boil out more hot, then ere one brother Could to pronounce damnation on another. Erected snakes, could but my anger now So farre degenerate as stoope to you, How could I thrash you and abuse you worse, Then you your selves can a rich Poet curse, Worse then you censure Usurers, when you look On the lanke reckonings of an Easter Booke: Alas, how could I daube you, worse then ere Hicks did his English Concordance besmeare; Or a hot Monke could with mouth-engines work Strange executions against the Turke? But Ile be still, a Country Maior can soon Quaffe all these vapours of Religion; What? quaffe them say you; yes, they cannot be Surcharg'd with too much Schoole-Divinitie; They doe not feed on Fathers, them they hate, Both as a hard and undigested meat; Nay, those that know them, intimately say, They cannot Conjure by the Kabbala: Nay, most oth' Patriarkes would be to seek, To tell their new confession in Greek; But they who want all weapons, will not strike, But each prove a Rhetoricall Vandike, Worse then the running o'th'raines, which fence Tells onely evill in the consequence; But this will be when th'King their Sermons heares, When Lesly reads, and Pryn regains his eares, When Edwards, that destroying Amurath, His Inquisitionary Swords shall sheath That puny Hercules, who fiercely sweats, To slay the Monsters he himselfe begets; The English Cadmus, whose most conquering pen Sowes Dragons teeth to raise up armed men, Who like the Maid to the great Victor sent, Makes poyson now become his nourishment, Who lest the growing Sectaries should not live, Beats them like Walnut Trees to make them thrive, That Church Lycurgus, who to stop the sinnes Of waste and drunkennesse, cut down the Vines, That venerable sonne of fury, that Makes modesty quite excommunicate, Which in the Classick Ordinance must come in, As numbred for the fix and thirtieth sinne, By him you know the Brotherhood, this one In time may make a Brotherhood alone: But they are Planets that at distance run, And Vines lookes like the picture of the Sun.
FINIS. Printed in the Yeare, 16[?]