%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> Dr. OTES his VINDICATION: / AFFIRMING THAT / His EVIDENCE is not to be bafled by the PAPISTS. / AND SHEWING / The Power that induced him to Discover this Damnable Hellish Popish PLOT against / the Protestant Religion. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer 1680-1680 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 10/26/2018 36357

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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

R36094 WISDOM, the Fruitful Mother of all / things, Society of Antiquaries of London - Broadsides Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 6: 587 Dr. OTES his VINDICATION: / AFFIRMING THAT / His EVIDENCE is not to be bafled by the PAPISTS. / AND SHEWING / The Power that induced him to Discover this Damnable Hellish Popish PLOT against / the Protestant Religion. Dr. OATES his VINDICATION: AFFIRMING THAT His EVIDENCE is not to be baffled by the PAPISTS. AND SHOWING The Power that induced him to Discover this Damnable Hellish Popish PLOT against the Protestant Religion. 1680-1680

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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 10/26/2018 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Bible / biblical figures country / nation politics / government punishment religious groups Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 10/26/2018 5:01:46 PM XBallad Lew, Lilly Created XML Version of Ballad 10/26/2018 5:01:46 PM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 10/26/2018 5:01:46 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 10/26/2018 5:01:46 PM Transcriptionist Two Stark, Nicole Transcription of ballad manuscript 10/26/2018 5:01:46 PM Transcriptionist One Messner, Milena Transcription of ballad manuscript 9/7/2017 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 8/20/2018 Checker Minh Hua Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 8/20/2018 Checker Minh Hua Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
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WISDOM, the Fruitful Mother of all things, The Virgin Bride of the great KING of Kings; This Heavenly Lady, first instructed Me, To free my Country from Romes Tyranny. The World is Blind, and they that Headlong run, Without this Guid, are utterly undon. Whilst I was galloping a full Career, A Glorious Angel did to me appear, Great Britaines Genius, in a mourning weed. Glanc't in my Eye, which made my Heart to bleed. CAnst thou, quoth she, behold thy Country's fall, Into the Hands of evr'y Canibal? Devouring Dogs, who not content with Fleeces, Do gape to grind both Flesh and Bones to peices! Who, under colour of fain'd Holiness, Would make poor Albion a meer Wilderness. Rome had her Titus, we in Story find, Who was the full Delight of all Mankind: Be like him than, 'tis not a time to play, To do thy Country good, loose not a day: Armies of Serpents swarm about her Ears, Ready to be devoured by Wolves and Bears. I have design'd thee for this Noble Work, Amonst these Murderers no longer lurk. What canst thou see the Land where thou wast born, Made the World's Laughter and the publick Scorn? Thine aged Fathers reverend Snow-white Head, With Fettered hands, to Execution led? A Pander to thy Mother, monstrous base, Thy Sister Strumpetted before thy face? The Wife before her Husband's face defil'd? Your Cattel plundered, and your Houses spoyl'd? This Famous Island topsy-turvy turn'd? The Inhabitants all banished or burn'd? And thou thy self canst not escape their Fury, To take thy Life, they have summon'd up a Jury! Behave thyself as wisely as you can, 'Tis Crime enough to be an Englishman. Thy Countrys peace and safety will be thine, With bloody Monsters, see thou dost not joyn: Be Wise and Valiant, nothing can distress thee, Tho the Pope Curse, the Heaven of Heavens will bless thee. To Conquer Canaan, Israel sent out Spies, Be thou a Caleb in a low Disguise; To bring their Deeds of darkness to the Light, With Canaanites be thou a Canaanite. In my wise School, I'le make thee a Refiner, An Underminer of the Underminer: The Fiends are putting forth with all their might A Plot, deeper than Hell, darker than Night! THese words did pierce my Soul, like a keen Arrow, They glided through my Bones, and all my Mar-row. I'le follow thy Advice, thus I reply, Though Snakes and Adders in the way do ly.
The Dye is cast, I want no further Wooing, And if I fall, I'le perish by well doing: With an undaunted Courage I'le march on, Till I have past this River Rubicon. Like the brave Roman Caesar, lo, I stand, Though Rome encounter me by Sea and Land. A Joshua to this Land, good News I bring: A Faithful Mordecai unto my King: Romes stinking Holiness begins to Taint, Where every Murderer is made a Saint. Hold up thy head, Great Britain, thou shalt see Accursed Haman hanging on a Tree: This Resolution in my mind did fall, That for a time, I was not I at all! The Fire of Love so flamed in my Breast, For Englands safety I could take no rest! The Dove did shine like a bright morning Sun, And put the Murdering Dragon to the run: The Lamb he was my Counsellor, who said, Find out those horrid Treasons that are laid Against thy Native Soyl, whose Funeral Bell Is now rung-out by all the Powers of Hell: A Grave prepared, a Gulf doth open stand To swallow all the People of this Land, Arise, the Angel said, It is THY Lot, To sound the bottom of this Hellish PLOT, Guided along by Providence Divine, Rip through the Bowels of this Dark Design: I, mount the Alpes, stand for fair Italy, To sound Romes machivillian Pollicy: I swiftly post through Flanders, pleasant France, To the Castillian Court, I did advance: I there unrip't the bowels of this PLOT, Saw how these Nations at fair England Shot, In all those Countrys which foul Treason breeds, I suckt sweet Honey from most poysonous weeds; Of which an Antidote I did compound, To Cure fair England of her secret Wound. That I might give them their own bitter Pill, I kept the Coppies of their Letters still; Laden with spoils of Treachery and Treason, I came unto my King, had I not reason? My many years Intelligence, I brought Unto his hands, and how his LIFE was sought. Tho all the people had their Sentence read, Yet HE, their King, this dismal Daunce must lead. He did receive me with a gratious Eye, For at the stake his Sacred Life did lye. All Nations trust the Sword for their Defence, But England, thou art sav'd by Providence! For being Blind, thou didst not see nor know, The Arm was up to give the fatal Blow! Hood-winkt asleep, thou hadst forever been, Had not wise Providence stept-in between. Armies of Angels, stood in battel aray, Their General did fight for thee this day. Let not the name of Otes live, let it dye, And in the Grave of dark Oblivion lye: Let Bedloe, Otes and Dugdale be forgot, For they were not discoveres of this Plot; These were but Harps in Great Jehovahs hand, On whom he plaid to save a Sinful Land: Our General he did call, and we Obey'd, We were the Instruments on whom he plaid
A Tune so pleasant on the Humble Lyre, That all succeeding Ages will admire! To this Great God the Ancient of days Let us give all the Honor and the Praise, Who brought a Daniel from the Lions Den, And sav'd us from the Hands of Wicked men: His Eye hath rais'd to Life with one sweet Ray, A Nation that upon its Death Bed lay. Henceforth Great Britain show thy smiling Face, In thee is Born a Child of Heavenly Race, Sprung from the Loyns of the Immortal Dove, Wisdom his Mother, and his Sire is Love: Riding Tryumphant on his Milk white Steed, This Prince shall Cure the Nations that now bleed: Envy and Malice shall fall down before him, The Blackmore and the Indian shall adore him! Into his Fold all Nations he will gather, Our Noble King shall be a Nursing Father: Sweet Peace o're all the Earth shall then be sown, Stiff-neck'd Rebellion shall no more be known; Both King and Subject in one Yoak shall draw, The Princes Will shall be the Subjects Law: The Prince with such Commanding Love shall sway, The Peoplle will take pleasure to obey: They shall rejoyce when they do understand All Arbitrary power is in his hand: A full Confinement is full Liberty, And when they most are bound, they are most free: No Council to Direct his Just Commands, For Wisdom always at his Elbow stands: No heavy Tax can move the Peoples Gall, For they are willing to surrender all: Both Prince and People sit upon one Throne, For Prince and People perfectly are one: Full Union and Communion here we find, One Life, one Love, one Soul, one undivided Mind: But e're this come to pass, we clearly see Disturbances in every place shall be; The Elements shall quarrel with each Star, Dame Nature with herself shall be at War: The whole Creation that hath bin accurst, Shall fall into a Chaos, as at first: In all the World there will be strong Delusion, Darkness and Death, Confusion on Confusion: When this Black Cloud is o're, what will ensue? The Master Builder will Build all things new, When this old House is burnt that's made of Clay, Hee'l Build a Pallace that shall ne're decay: The Soul, in fine, being Purged from Dross and Tin, Shall now spring up a Glorious Cherubin. A New Sun in the Firmament shall rise, Whose Glorious Beams shall dazle Mortal Eyes! The Stars shall be refin'd which now we see, And this dull Lump a Paradice will be, Throu Storms and Tempests we no more shall pass, For we shall Sayl upon the Sea of Glass: New Stars, new Planets guide the Heavenly flore, Such as by Men were never seen before: The little Birds on every Bough shall Sing, No Winter but an Everlasting Spring. Fresh flourishing Youth shall everything restore, Old Age is past; and Man shall Dye no more; Sickness and Sorrow are forever fled, All Tears are wip'd away, and Death is dead.
LONDON, Printed in the Year MDCLXXX.