The kings-bench cabal, a song. To the tune, hark, hark, I hear the cannons rore This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription B03968 of text R213556 in the English Short Title Catalog (Wing K590). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 3 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 B03968 Wing K590 Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.2[168] 99884122 ocm99884122 181490 2240888638

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. B03968) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 181490) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books; Tract supplement ; A1:1[168]) The kings-bench cabal, a song. To the tune, hark, hark, I hear the cannons rore 1 sheet ([1] p.). Printed for J[ames]. Dean, bookseller in Cranborn-street near Newport House in Leicester Fields, London : 1684. Verse: "Eternal Whigs that still depends". Bookseller's name from Wing CD-ROM, 1996. Reproduction of original in the British Library. eng Political satire, English -- Early works to 1800. Ballads, English -- 17th century. eebo The kings-bench cabal, a song. To the tune, hark, hark, I hear the cannons rore anon 1684 1 428 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. 2008-04 Assigned for keying and markup 2008-08 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2008-09 Sampled and proofread 2008-09 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2009-02 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
The Kings-Bench Cabal , A SONG . To the Tune , hark , hark , I hear the Cannons rore . I. FTernal Whigs that still depends On Old Sham-Plots & perjured ends , Toth ' Kings-Bench amongst your friends Repair to make new Orders : Make haste , contrive some better way , Or by the Gods you 'll loose the day , Great York is now above half way , To Revenge all Rape and Murthers . II. We 're the best House of Commons now , That once have made three Kingdoms bow Put in , spew out , as you know how , fear Popery the old Notion : Let 's purge the House of all that 's good , That have our Cause so long withstood , And dares not thirst for guiltless blood , E'r York's upon the Ocean . III. Great Hamden , Rouse , thy wonted strain , Bring Trenchard into play again ; Vote down the guards and ev'ry swain , That dares oppose our pleasure : For to submit they would be loath , Thy Father and thy Grand-Sire both , To have ones hands ty'd up by Oath , That may be loose at leisure . IV. Let 's Vote the Duke of the Town , The King out of both Life and Crown , Vote Death to all that keeps us down , To leave the Cause a bleeding , Shall we lie here ty'd up like Dogs , Only Croaking our minds like Frogs , While here the Doctor swears and flogs , And leaves off all proceeding . V. Come Speak and Bradon , Arnold too , Colt , and Caldron , what shall 's do , Shall 's lie like Oysters here in stew ? And ne'r look out for help for 't ; Let 's send for Oxford Parliament , With all their Guards for murther bent , Come let 's attempt e'r Coin be spont , Tho' each one Damn himself for 't . VI. Shall we who were so great before , Have neither power to plot nor whore , Come let 's resolve , break down the dore , And joyn the Kent-street Rable . Then Wapping and the Rump will rise , The Tower and Westminster surprise , While Charles and York at Windsor lies , We 'll make this Town like Babel .

LONDON Printed for J. Dean , Bookseller in Cranborn-street near Newport House in Leicester Fields , 1684.