%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> Qui Chetat Chetabitur: / OR, / TYBURNE Cheated. / BEING, / A POEM, / UPON / The three Regicides Munson, Mildmay and Wallopp; who / were Drawn upon Hurdles to Tyburne on the / 27th. of January, 1661. 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 07/11/2021 37556

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R182321 GReat, and grave Tyburne, Wee are sent / To court thee in a Complement: British Library - Bagford Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 3: 24 Qui Chetat Chetabitur: / OR, / TYBURNE Cheated. / BEING, / A POEM, / UPON / The three Regicides Munson, Mildmay and Wallopp; who / were Drawn upon Hurdles to Tyburne on the / 27th. of January, 1661. Qui Chetat Chetabitur: OR, TYBURN Cheated. BEING, A POEM, UPON The three Regicides Munson, Mildmay and Wallopp; who were Drawn upon Hurdles to Tyburn on the 27th of January, 1661. Printer Edward Crowch ?-?

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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 7/11/2021 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 7/11/2021 5:29:17 PM XBallad Henderson, Olivia Created XML Version of Ballad 7/11/2021 5:29:17 PM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/11/2021 5:29:17 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/11/2021 5:29:17 PM Transcriptionist Two Al halabieh, Deena Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/11/2021 5:29:17 PM Transcriptionist One Messner, Milena Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/10/2019 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">Qui Chetat Chetabitur:</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OR,</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">TYBURNE Cheated.</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">BEING,</hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A POEME,</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">Elizabeth Jefferie.</hi> UPON</hi></seg> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The three Regicides <hi rend="bold">Munson, Mildmay</hi> and <hi rend="bold">Wallopp;</hi> who</hi></seg> <seg n="8" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">were Drawn upon Hurdles to <hi rend="bold">Tyburne</hi> on the</hi></seg> <seg n="9" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">27th. of <hi rend="bold">January,</hi> 1661.</hi></seg>
GReat, and grave Tyburne, Wee are sent To court thee in a Complement: Wee come, oh strange! to make no stay, Only greet, and so away; Take notice how we doe adore thee, And in worship fall before thee; Thus we fall before thy Trine, And vow our selves for ever thine: 'Twas for thy sake we stirr'd up strife, And now we love thee to the life; Our humble hearts doe make request, Not to be mounted, like the rest; We are content all strife should cease, And love, what once we hated, Peace. Did we not doe a pretty thing, To Murder a Religious King: Oh! how we quafft his guiltless blood, He onely dy'd for being good; Whilst all the Punishment we had Was but to live, for being bad; If this be all we must incurr, Who would not be a Murtherer: We care not now we know our hope Must be intayl'd upon a Rope. Pray tell us Lawyers, can there be A Fine, without Recoverie? We'l satisfie our selves a None, We now are reading Little---ton; If Cooke were living, he'd advise us In our distress, though you dispise us; But he (poore Wretch) was cast aside, His Law was DUN before he dy'd: Some of his Brethren smil'd to see, Whilst others cry'd, And why not we? Their Judgments did the thing enlarge, Though he were Drawn that drew the Charge; We see aboundance of our Gange, (I hope they practice how to Hang) That knew full well, the time was, when Money made Knaves, now honest men: Nor had we bin thus made a Theame, Had we bin rul'd by QUARLES his Dreame; He call'd us Rebells in our prime, And told us of this very time: But he n'ere dream'd, as some recited, That for his Worke he should be slighted: Such Caveleirs we daily see, Are constant to their Povertie; Their's was the danger, their's the paine, But we can tell who reapes the gaine; Now they may begg through Iron-grates, That lost (by which we got) Estates. Whilst once a yeare we pay our Vows, To this our monstrous three legg'd Spous, Who showes her love, in this our woe, Poore Wretch she's loath to let us goe; Oh! how she labours, and inclines To make us understand her Lines; How she seems to swell with pride, With her Champion by her side, Who invites us to our woes, That the Knave might have our cloathes; He tells us that we need not feare, For old Noll, and Bradshaws there; We know, and all the world may see't, That 'tis not merry when Knaves meet;
But this old saying now proves true, The Gallows alwayes claimes her due; Wer't not for fear, we would proceed, And out of love, be hang'd indeed; For unto us it does appeare Sad to be hanged once a yeare, For like old Noll, though breath be fled, We may be hanged when we be dead: But one thing joyes us to the heart, The Caveleirs can bare no part, For if we see them but begin To laugh we'le bid them laugh that win; And if they chance to make their braggs, We'le bid them looke upon their Raggs; Alas poore Creatures, they can hope Only in Raggs, and we in Rope. But now, Grave Tyburne we must leave thee, 'Tis no wonder we deceive thee; Pray doe not weep, for 'tis in vaine Next yeare, we'le see the here againe; Till then, with a submissive bow We make to thee, each Man his vow: And first we doe resolve to bee Obedient unto none but thee; Next, during life, we vow t'appeare And doe thee homage once a yeare; These promises thou well mayst trust, Necessety will make us just. Thus we thy Servants, every one, Wallopp, Mildmay, and Munson, With all our might and power, will Be allwayes carefull to fullfill Thy sweet commands, nor time, nor season Shall hinder us, from thinking Treason; What though we never lov'd our King? Thou lov'st us for that very thing; In all things thou shalt be our Cheife, Thou lov'st a Traitor, and a Theife, Therefore thou need'st take no care For we can fitt thee to a haire; For our Deeds are so much fam'd That Hell will blush to hear us nam'd, And thus for our Rebellious Pride, Wee'l once a yeare on Hurdles ride, And if Squire Dun will not oppose, Wee'l every Winter finde him cloaths. And now, great Charles, to thee we bow, And, Satan-like, we all alow And owne thee for a gratious King, Though unto us th'art no such thing; We tooke away thy Fathers life, His Blood still reekes upon our knife; Then how can we expect thy Grace, When Justice takes up Mercies place. Therefore, if extracted be The Quintescence of Tyrannie, 'Tis Love, compared to our Deeds, Till we are dead, thy Father bleeds; But if thy Mercy should outshine Thy Justice, Thou would'st prove Devine; Add Plagues, to Plagues, and even then Thou art the mildest of all Men Thus we conclude, and from this houre We will acknow[l]edge Thee in Power.
FUNIS. London, printed by Edward Crowch dwelling on Snow- hill. 1662. Who these Traitors would once have hang'd