the lees and dregs of the Heathenish brawlers, the disciples of Beelzebub, who, taught by that wily serpent, mouthe their impious rantings upon the stage." "O! Caleb Johnson, thou upholder of the scorner, the-wine bibber, and the presumptuous player," snuffled Tom Killegrew. "My very bowels yearneth for thee, and mine hostess of Saint Dunstan and the Devil. O! that ye will not listen to the admonitions of that learned owl, and these reproving saints and servants of the conventicle, black in the outward and visible garb, as the croaking frogs, fresh from the muddy banks of the Heathenish river, ycleped Styx. Yet, what availeth it to hold forth," raising his tone to a higher strain of cant, are ye not all-all-sticks-and stocks-and stones. 66 "Yea, in the inward chambers of this house have ye been entertaining each other by the roaring of carnal songs, whilst these sanctified owls and frogs, peradventure, would have edified ye all by the singing of hymns. Come, my brethren, let us join in a spiritual song." "A good motion-a capital motion," cried out the crowd of cavaliers. "Let us join in a spiritual song. Here-tapster-hey-bring us. the directory, let us strike up." * *The DIRECTORY. This was the book of service, written by the sectarians, printed, promulgated, and enforced in all Protestant congregations, during the rule of the saints. The church of England Common Prayer Book being set aside by the authority of the parliament, and forbidden to be used, under the penalty of fine and imprisonment. The levity of the cavaliers, at the epoch of the restoration, immoral as they generally were, was less offensive to the truly pious, than that audacious familiarity, nay, even blasphemous freedom, with which certain gospel ministers, as they were called, assumed when speaking of the Deity, on many political and religious occasions. during the civil wars. Mr. Bond, one of these presumptuous saints, preaching at the Savoy, told his auditors, "That they ought to contribute, and pray, and do all they were able to bring about their brethren of Scotland, for settling of God's cause: I say this is God's cause, and if our God hath any cause this is it; and if this be not God's cause, then God is no God for me; but the devil is got up into heaven.”—(Vide Sir W. Dugdale.) "Which pluck'd down the king, the church, and the laws, To set up an idol, then nick-nam'd the cause, Like Bell and the Dragon," &c. NOTES TO HUDIBRAS. "Where are the trumpeters ?" cried Tom D'Urfey." Bring the trumpeters forth, with -hic-Jew Mordecai at their head. What say you, Master Prynne? Let us all march-march my boys, and let us have the mil-millenium. Order the trumpeters, let us chair the preacher; hollo-you marrow-bones and cleavers." Opportunely a band of these butcherly musicians came into the hall. "Here-let us chair the old barrister saint-and bring in the millineum, and king Charles-huzza-old saint Prynne, and his sacred majesty king Charles-huzza—huzza.” The thought happened to chime in with the humour of the moment, and a crowd of cavaliers laid hands upon Prynne, the other preachers decamped; when seizing the old barrister, who struggled and fought most manfully, and overpowering him, they first pinioned, and then by clubbing of handkerchiefs, fastened him in the landlord's elbow-chair, and procuring two stout poles, hoisted him on the shoulders of half a score of the drawers, and out the whole company sallied into the street. It was now long past midnight, all was quiet, excepting that here and there a straggling drunkard was to be seen, by the dim light of an expiring lamp, singing the disjointed verses of the last song he had heard, reeling home from the tavern. Mordecai marshalled the trumpeters, and having provided each with a trumpet, they came staggering to the rendezvous in the hall, when placing them two and two, Ferabosco, who was no mean musician, was dubbed master of the band, and off they set from the tavern into Fleet-street, followed by old Prynne, borne in the triumphal car, next to whom, four a-breast, marched the cavaliers, with Mordecai, Caleb Johnson, and the marrow-bones and cleavers bringing up the rear. Thus appointed, the procession moved forward with a flourish of trumpets, when Tom Killegrew began with a voice still louder than Tom Belfry's, "O! have you been to Breda, my boys? Have you seen the king? Whose up to the thing; And he's our ruling star, my boys, And he's our ruling star." "Chorus, my noble cavaliers," cried the mad courtier, when the noisy followers, accompanied by the trumpets, roared lustily, And he's our ruling star, my boys, Never was such a general waking. At the blast of the trumpets, every bed was deserted, up went the sashes, open flew the casements, and ladies' white caps, and men's night caps, of every shape, shade, and colour, were thrust out; and nothing but the darkness of the midnight could have shrouded the blushes of the thousand pretty faces, thus suddenly exposed en chemise, to witness this strange revelry. The persecuted saint in the chair stormed, raged, foamed, denounced, and reviled; but the cavaliers only cheered him the more vociferously, with-"Huzza-old Prynne and the saints for ever! huzza!" O! have you seen Prince Hal, He will drink and revel And play the devil, And he swears he ne'er will marry, my boys, "Chorus, my cavaliers." And he swears he ne'er will marry, my boys, |