%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> THE / RUMP / DOCK'T 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 06/30/2021 36688

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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

R211495 1 NONE Down in a Bottom; The Parliament Sat as Snug as a Cat TIll it be understood / What is under Monck's Hood, British Library - Thomason Tracts Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 23: 8 THE / RUMP / DOCK'T THE RUMP DOCKED ?-?

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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 6/30/2021 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/30/2021 10:56:22 AM XBallad Henderson, Olivia Created XML Version of Ballad 6/30/2021 10:56:22 AM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/30/2021 10:56:22 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/30/2021 10:56:22 AM Transcriptionist Two Roepe, Madeleine Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/30/2021 10:56:22 AM Transcriptionist One Raychawdhuri, Anita Transcription of ballad manuscript 2/28/2019 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 2/28/2019 Checker Kristen McCants Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/28/2019 Checker Kristen McCants Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
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TIll it be understood What is under Monck's Hood, The City dare not shew his horns: Till ten daies be out, The Speaker's sick of the Gout, And the Rump doth sit upon thorns. If Monck be turn'd Scot The Rump goes to pot, And the Good Old Cause will miscarry; Like coals out of embers, Revive the Old Members: Off goes the Rump, like Dick and Harry. Then In come the Lords, Who drew Parlament swords, With Robes lined through with Ermin; But Peers without Kings Are very useless things, And their Lordships counted but Vermin Now Morley and Fagg May be put in a bagg, And that doughty man Sir Arthur; In despair for his Foil, With Alderman Hoyle, Will become a Knight of the Garter. That Knave in Grain Sir Harry Vane His case then most mens is sadder; There is little hope He can scape the rope, For the Rump turn'd him o're the Ladder. That pretious Saint Scott Shall not be forgot, According to his own desires; Instead of Neck-verse Shall have it writ on his Herse, Here hangs one of the Kings Triers. Those nine sons of Mars That whipt the Rumps Arse, I mean the Commanders War-lick;
If the Rump smell strong With hanging too long, Shall serve to stuff it with Garlick. That parcel of man In length but a span, Whose wife's Eggs alwaies are addle; Must quit the Life-guard, As he did when skar'd By Lambert out of the saddle. Lambert now may turn Florist, Being come off the poorest That ever did man of the Sword: The Rump let a fart Which took away his heart, And made him a Squire of a Lord. His Cheshire glory Is a pitiful story, There the Saints triumpht without battle; But now Monck and his Friers Have driven him into the Briers, As he did Booth and his Cattle. For the rest of the Rump, Together in a lump, too late to cry, Peccavi: Yee have sinn'd all or most Against the Holy Ghost, And therefore the Divel must have ye. But now valiant City, Whether must thy Ditty Be sung in Verse, or in Prose; For till the Rump stunk For fear of Monck, Thy Militia durst not shew Its Nose. Base Cowards and Knaves, That first made us slaves, Very Rascals from the beginning; Onely unto Moncks Sword The Nation must afford The honour of bringing the King in.
Printed in the year, 1660.