%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> Miracles upon Miracles: / OR, / Great News from the Kings-Bench Prison in Southwark, / Of a Monster called by the name of TITUS upon OATES. / Being a strange and wonderful Relation of Ten Miraculous Miracles, / lately made known; the like having not been heard of in many / Ages. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer 1687-1687 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 10/11/2018 36222

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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

R30524 1 NONE [unknown] NOW, now you that fancy all miracles ceas'd, / I'll tell you a Tale of a late Popish Priest, They will be all Miracles say what you will. [with variation] Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. : Miracles upon Miracles: / OR, / Great News from the Kings-Bench Prison in Southwark, / Of a Monster called by the name of TITUS upon OATES. / Being a strange and wonderful Relation of Ten Miraculous Miracles, / lately made known; the like having not been heard of in many / Ages. Miracles upon Miracles: OR, Great News from the Kings-Bench Prison in Southwark, Of a Monster called by the name of TITUS upon OATES. Being a strange and wonderful Relation of Ten Miraculous Miracles, lately made known; the like having not been heard of in many Ages. 1687-1687 A.C.

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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 10/11/2018 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America politics / government punishment religious figures trickery / deceit Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 10/11/2018 10:12:53 AM XBallad Raychawdhuri, Anita Created XML Version of Ballad 10/11/2018 10:12:53 AM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 10/11/2018 10:12:53 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Ward, Jayne Transcription of ballad manuscript 10/11/2018 10:12:53 AM Transcriptionist Two White, Jessica Transcription of ballad manuscript 10/11/2018 10:12:53 AM Transcriptionist One Green, Allison Transcription of ballad manuscript 8/16/2018 Checker Minh Hua Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 12/11/2017 Checker Kristen McCants Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/23/2017 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
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NOW, now you that fancy all miracles ceas'd, I'll tell you a Tale of a late Popish Priest, Who has produc'd such a number, that he Must own they had Birth most miraculously. And never hereafter be hard of Belief, And thus I'll begin them, although I'll be brief; And when I my Task in this point do fulfil, They will be all Miracles say what you will. First, out of pure zeal to discover the Plot, He was a Papist, and yet he was not; For though to the Pope he was sworn, and more, The Host he received, and the Bread did adore, And knew their Conspiracy, and each design, And in a most Hellish Plot did with them joyn: O yet the fam'd Hero's a Protestant still, And this is a Miracle say what you will. He knew on what mischief their Malice was bent, And on what dire murders their minds were intent, Yet trusted their fury long e're he made known The Hellish design, which to mountains was grown, And might have prosper'd in spight of the Priest, Had not the kind Heavens their fury suppress'd; For why they had time enough all to fulfil, Yet this is a Miracle say what you will. Then that there appointed were Armies so great, Of Spanish Pilgrims, wild Irish, and that Some thousands of Papists were cruelly bent, For with black Bils, Guns, Swords, & Staves, 'twas their intent To set on the Nation, yet strange is the thing That none of them e're to light any could bring, Or where they such Magazines hoarded up still, Yet this is a Miracle say what you will. That this Priestly worthy who knew all the Plot, And might have commanded the Devil knows what; Who had at his beck still the Lives and Estates Of Romes bold Villains, who held such Debates, Shou'd be in such misery, so wondrous Poor, That he was oblig'd to haunt each Popish door, His Hungry Belly with Bread for to fill, Then this is a Miracle say what you will.
That after the dreadful Discovery was made, And that Discovery was become a Trade, He should protest he some Persons ne're knew, And in a while after the same should pursue, To the loss of their lives, as having well known, How from time to time their Designs they went on, To ruin three Kingdoms, and Royal Blood spill, Yet this is a Miracle say what you will. That he in two places should be in one day, A Thousand miles distant, as some they did say; Indeed't does much puzle me, unless he flew On some swift Whirl-wind, for plainly he knew What in the same day was done here, and eke there, And in his own Person Transactions did hear: If this be not unusual than I have no Skill, Nay 'tis a Miracle say what you will. That he took Degrees in a place he ne'r saw, And to hear him dispute, did great Crouds thither draw; And that in the Senate-house he should once swear, He nothing more had of the Plot to declare, Yet after bethinking him, shou'd still proceed, To accuse some of high rank Treason indeed: If this ben't a Miracle strange it is still, But sure 'tis a Miracle say what you will. That he with one Mouth should so frankly declare, A man to be honest, then loudly to swear; He's a Jesuit Priest, and the vilest of Knaves, Because to comply with his intrest he waves: That one unbaptiz'd can a Christian be said, Is both new and strange as we ever yet heard, And must by Wise men be wondred at still, Nay, nay, 'tis a Miracle say what you will. That he should swear one was lately a Slave, And that he of Life did his Patron bereave, By giving him Poyson, and so getting free, But that that Patron alive yet shou'd be, Exceeds all the rest, and it is not gain-said, But 'tis most Miraculous to raise the Dead; For rarely that Task can a Mortal fulfil, Then these are all Miracles say what you will.
LONDON, Printed for A.C. over against the Cap and Feather, in Whitecross-street, next to Old-street. 1687.