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The firſt part of the laſt WIL & TESTAMENT OF PHILIP Earle of Pembrooke and Montgomery, Lord of Saint Quintin, &c.

NOW KNIGHT of BERK-SHIRE, Dictated by his own mouth, and took by Mr. Michael Oldſworth ſometime his Lds Secretary, and faithfully engroſſed; together with all his Lds. penitent conſiderations, (delivered in moſt patheticall expreſſions) upon every particular of his Goods, Catttels, Chattels, moveable and inmoveable, that are de­figned in Legacy to ſundry particular perſons of moſt eminent and remarkable quality.

The ſecond part to the ſame tune, will ſpeedily be exhibited to publique view, as ſoon as it can be poſſibly Tranſcribed; By his Lds moſt Devoted Honour.

Mercurius Elencticus.

Printed in the Year, 1649.

To the Reader.


MY Lord deſiring to diſcover his Charitable and zealous intentions to the world, (more for preſident then oſtentation) and at his laſt gaſpe re­ſolving to breath forth ſome pithy ſentences, (fit to be committed to poſterity inſtead of proverbs) that might ſpeake him to eternity, as full of wiſdom as worthineſſe and honour, I here tender thee (by his Lordſhips appointment) the First part of his laſt Will and Teſtament; pray make much of this, till the reſt is delivered to thee, under his owne Hand and Seale.

In the mean time, weigh but each word with heed,
You'le thinke his Lordſhip meanes to dye indeed;
For by theſe gifts, I find he truſts to merit
All th' heaven that e're's capacity'le inherit;
Nay in pure love, he is reſolv'd to ſhow
The Parliament the way they all must goe:
If he live longer, 'twill but vex the Devil
That ſuch a foole ſhould outwork him in evill.
Nay if he lives but to review this Will,
The kindneſſe on't his very heart will kill:
I hope his Elegie and Epitaph
After the ſecond part on's Will, ſhall make you laugh.
And when we know his qualities, and riches,
Ile gage my braine-pan you'le be-piſſe your Breeches.

The firſt part of the laſt WILL & TESTAMENT OF PHILIP Earle of Pembrook & Montgomery, &c.

I Philip Herbert of the Tilte-yard, in the Country of Saint James's Parke, lying very ſick and weak. Here Mr. Oldſ­worth ſtop'd him, My Lord quoth he, you ſhould have begun in the Name of God. Dam me you Rogue, why do you Interupt me? is't not too late to begin with him now? I han't ſpoke with him ne're ſince I uſed to ſing Pſalmes in the Kings Chappel, ſome eight years agoe, and doſt thinke he has not other things to think on beſides my buſineſſe, I ne're medled with his Will, and why ſhould he have any hand in mine; Mr. Spea­ker knows, I have more mind to make him my Executor (or the Devil take me elſe) I promiſed him ſo when he got me into the Houſe of Commons; and beſides, Mr. Speaker has reaſon to love me better then he, becauſe he knows me better; the Parliament would count me a Cockſcomb to forſake them at laſt caſt, and give my Meanes to one that I ſhall never ſee for ought I know: Mihill I thought th' hadſt had more wit then to perſwade me to any thing but what I am bound to by Act of Parliament, and I am ſure there's ne're a ſuch a word in any of them by my conſent, or ever ſhall be; therefore pray hold your tongue and let me ſpeake my own purpoſe, and do you write it down, right or wrong; when you lye a dying (as I do) if you'le teach me to Write, Ile do your will to your mind.

But yet in perfect health and memory do make and (pox confound theſe hard words) proſtitute this my laſt Will and Teſtament, and hereby doe invoke and make voide all other Gifts, (the Devil a one I remember) Grants, Conveyances (and mine were never cleanly ones, for when I jug­led my ſelf out of one Houſe intoth 'tother, all the Towne tooke notice of my ſhuffling under board) Wils and Teſtaments whatſoever.


Former, my Lord, you muſt ſay, Former Wils.


Why did I ever lye a dying afore you foole you? won't one Will ſerve turn; you woo'd have me hang'd for making a new Letanie of re­pealed wils and Teſtaments; woo'd ye?

Imprimis, I give and bequeath my beſt pack of dogs


My Lord, do you remember what to do with your ſoul and body firſt?


Vengeance dam ye for a confounded Cur, I could find in my heart to daſh a piſpot in your ugly face; ſo ye'd ſerve me an I were at praiers, but I'le ſee ye hang'd before I'le try ye: Can I tel who ſhal have my body or ſoul either? Have I been Maſter of my ſelf e're ſince I was born? Did not I pawn my ſoul and ſalvation too, long ſince to the King (though I ne're hop'd to redeem it) when I was made his turn-key? And did not the Parlia­ment get it out on's cluches into their paws, e're they would make me their Porter to carry Packets of Propoſitions to, and again? They may do what they wil with't; for my part, I ne're made much uſe on't, becauſe I ne're knew wel what it was: For my body, I mean to keep it my ſelf as long as I can, I'le give every thing elſe away to the Devil himſelf, rather then part with my Carcaſſe; I'me ſure my Confectionarie's Bill t'other day came to 100l. and I'de fain fatten my kidneys with thoſe ſweet meats before I die, for fear they grow mouldy: I have no mind to feed upon gravel yet; an' my conſcience the pigmies do, and that makes them ſuch dwarfs: I'de ra­ther go to hel, or purgatory, where there's room enough for a coach and ſix horſes to turn, then be mew'd up under ground, where a man cannot ſwing and Cat; but prethee hold thy tongue, and let's mind our buſineſſe, for I ſhan't die in quiet, til I ſee my dogs provided for.

My beſt pack of dogs to Oliver Cromwel, for he keeps bloud-hounds ſo wel fleſh'd and fierce, they're able to tear out the Devils throat: I won­der what he feeds with them, now ox livers are ſo dear.

Item, I bequeath two couple of my beſt ſpaniels to my Lord of Denbigh, for hee'l ſtand gazing like a moap'd Buzzard, and gape wide enough for a Hawk to ſhit in's mouth, whil'ſt a Partridge is upon replinie: ſtoo bird, ſtoo bird, O 'tis gallant game; I wonder whether there be any Haws in Hel; an' I thought there were not, I'de ſend half a ſcore thither a mewing by Tom my Faulkner againſt I come, I ſhall ne're endure to be idle there.


You left at There, my Lord.

There rogue, what ſhall I do without thee there? Thou muſt needs make me a ſpeech to carry I' my pocket, I'le con't by the way; they ſay the De­vil's a good Scholar, he hope Harry Martin to anſwer the Scots papers, and make the Declaration of Non-Addreſſes to His Majeſtie: They ſay his Se­cretarie pen'd that pithy Oration that Bradſhaw made before the ſentence: Hang't, I ſhall ne're come off, without thou promptſt me, hee'l daſh me out a countenance, becauſe he ſpeaks Latin; juſt as he does the poor rogues that cannot reade their neck-verſe before my Lord Judge: Confound me, if he angers me too much, I'le ſwear his houſe about's ears, if I can but get my Lord Generals paſſe to run back again; if he denies that, I'de beſt take a file of musketeers we 'me, and bring him before the Councel of War, to anſwer the contempt: But come, diſpatch Mihil, prethee write on, thou art ſo tedious, I doubt I ſhall not get this Will ingroſſed time e­nough to take a Copy out we' me; for I mean to ſue my Executers there for non performance, if I can entertain Mr Chute, or Mr Whitlock, for my Councel, and Sergeant Wild ſhall have the hearing of the cauſe; hee'l be ſure to hang 'um o' my conſcience, 'un he take 'um ta dy there, becauſe 'tis a bigger Court of Juſtice then ours in Weſtminſter Hall.

Item, I give Badger, my beſt ſtone horſe (plague take him, for he threw me two damnablequeihes one Saint George's day, I ne're daw'd it ſince) to Colonel Henry Martin; he has hors'd me above a 100 coach mares in's time; he has ſome pith in's back ſtil, you may ſee by his frothing and blun­dring, when ſees a handſom Beaſt; he leaps nimbly ſtil, but he comes off baſely, becauſe of an old wrinch he got with ſtraining too hard in jumping upon a great Flanders jade, too ful buttock'd for him, and upon a bank­ſide too.

Item, I give and bequeath my Tenor, my Baſe, and my Treble, and all my Horns, to my wel beloved Son and Heir, Philip Lord Herbert; his Wife can teach him to wind them, or the pox take her, for the French man has been her Tutor long enough; I lov'd the muſick wel, but I could never endure to were 'um, they made me look ſo like a ſow-gelder.

Item, I give and bequeath my beſt lacing boots to Mr Speaker (rot on 'um, I never wore 'um, but men thought I had got the gout for the ſpavin; they'l ne're ſuſpect him, becauſe he limps o'th' toe ſide like a Craw-fiſh.

Item, I give and bequeath my rich Sedan woons, I'de fain be rid on't, becauſe they carried the King to triall in't; I ne're ſate in't ſince, but I was ready to beſhit my ſelf for fear; an' I could but think of any body the Devil ows a ſpight to, to betray him for a Traitor, he ſhould ha't; 't may be my Lord Say wil thank me for't: Set him down in't, for he loves to take's caſe wel.

Item, I give and bequeath my new truſſe of points hart, the rogues took me for a morriſ-dancer in a morning before I was truſs'd, when they came to croſſe capers, and dance attendance before my honourable Wor­ſhip: I'de beſt give them to Mr Selden to keep's codpice cloſe; hee'l wear 'um for antick faſhion ſake; he ſhall have Tib, my gray mare too; the Coun­teſſe of Kent knows hee'l ſtride an old gal'd jade ſo gently, that ſhee'l ne're wince at it; I cou'd find I my heart to give him her crupper too, for ſhe caſts forward damnably: Set him down for a mounter.

Item, I give and bequeath my great gaudy Coach (wood't had been bur­ned for me, when I ſet foot in't; I'le take my death on't, I thought the Devil had been in't, and his dam too, when I and my Lady Crompton rid in't laſt, it rumbled our rotten bones together like dice in a jugling box; dam 'om 'twas as bad as are of theſe confounded Strapadoes; pox on't, an' I had ne're hunted baudy houſes, I might have rid honeſtly up Holborn hil with­out any danger, but it made me tremble like a rogue as I was, to think on't, how the Traitors that ride that way are mangled, when they came at Ty­burn; and I was never ſo fraid but my quarters woo'd have been ſhoke off before I came to Hide Park corner; I'de beſt giv't) to my Lord Grey of Groby, for hee's fain to make uſe of a Hackney ſtil to ſave charges, when'sudy rides a ranting, let him take't with a pox to him, for I have enough on't, more then e're I ſhall well claw of.

Item, I give and bequeath my great gilt Bible; Fool-ſcratch 'um, the puppies took me for a Puritan; and judge me, may I nere ſtir if I had not rather hear Bulſtrode Whitlocks Declarations read 100 times, then one of Paul Knels Sermon of execration againſt Rebels, becauſe I fumbled over the leaves, as if I meant to find the Text, though I nere knew a figure from a frying pan; I could ſtare Caryl i'th' face upon a Faſt day (like an Owl as I was) til the Gander was ready to be cackle himſelf for fear I ſhould put him out on's parrating: Tis a terrible villain ſometimes, for hee'l make a Church roar of damnation as bad as a Popes Bull, hee'l ſo be labour a poor innocent cuſhion, as if he meant to beat the brains out about's ears, as he rears up againſt the pillar yet ſometime hee'l give's a great deal of comfort, when he was terrified us a matter of two hours together with a thundring ſtory of Cromwel's plaguy deliverances, and murdered our memo­ries with his morter-peece of deſtruction to Monarchy; then he begins to bleat peaceably towards dinner time; O tis a cunning colt, he knows how to kick us out of good manners, and make's whihy again to hear him claw into conceit with our own miſchiefs; I had beſt give him this Bible, hee'l preach nothing but Acts of Parliament, and Judge Advocate Orders out on't, to ſtrengthen the hearts of the couragious Councel of War, that they may confidently condemn the rogues without the leaſt ſcruple of ſcurvy conſcience: Set him down for a Book banger.

Item, I give and bequeath my beſt Cloake and George; vengeance of all ill luck: an I wear't any longer, the bloud thirſty will go nigh to take me for a Tyrant (as fierce a one as ere ſtood in Smithfield pens) and fix me for a blazing ſtar in the fore-head of the Firmament for the world to wonder at, how the Devil I came there againſt my will; for they knew I nere lov'd climbing (a rope fetch me if ere I did, ſo I did not) if I had, I had nere been choſen Knight of Bark ſhire by ſome twenty of my vain­glorious Tenants and Servants, that thirſted to do their Lord an honour; on my conſcience tis dangerous to be Knighted too by theſe ſlaſhing blades, for fear a mans head ſhould fall into's codpice; I could nere endure to ſee a ſword drawn, ſince I was beaten with my own hilts by a Butchers boy croſ­ſing the kennel, becauſe I, like a great Calf, muſt needs call him tallow­beard, though his face was as bald as my own pate: and though they would not hang thee in it for a counterfeit, thou ſhouldſt have my Ribbon and George, 'twas my Porters armes, or I had nere been known to ſit at the re­ceipt of cuſtom in the Parliament Houſe, and carry tickets to and fro be­tween party and party; a louſe in the pot, Mihil, is better then no fleſh; a Porters place in the Cuſtom Houſe will be good preferment for an old Parliament man, in the raign of a new Repreſentative: I alwaies liked the conceit o'th' Emblem, more then th'honour on't (for that never fitted my humour) it looks fiercely, but when ye come to touch it, tis as tame as a dotterill: And beſides ye know, when I am on horſback, I ooſe as little mo­tion as may be; on my conſcience they'l go nigh to take't for my Lord Gene­rals picture, if thou layeſt it on a bow knot in thy boſom; for hee's a man of a meek temper, or elſe he would never let Cromwel rule the roſt, while he turns the ſpit, and you know your Cooks are fiery fellows. I'le give my Cloake to Sir Henry Vane, for 'twill cover more knavery then foolery; and in this time of turning things arſe upwards, the badges of honour may well become diſtinguiſhing Characters of infamy, the ſtar will illuſtrate all his contrivances; we had beſt leave off for this bout, for too much of one thing is good for nothing; I'me out of breath now, but I'le fall too't again too morrow, and give um all enough afore I have done with them, that they may pray for me, while I ſwear um all out of hell.


About this transcription

TextThe first part of the last wil & testament of Philip Earle of Pembrooke and Montgomery, Lord of Saint Quintin, &c. now Knight of Berk-shire, dictated by his own mouth, and took by Mr. Michael Oldsworth sometime his Lps secretary, and faithfully engrossed; together with all his Lps. penitent considerations, (delivered in most patheticall expressions) upon every particular of his goods, catttels [sic], chattels, moveable and inmoveable, that are designed in legacy to sundry particular persons of most eminent and remarkable quality. The second part to the same tune, will speedily be exhibited to publique view, as soon as it can be possibly transcribed; / by his Lps most devoted honour. Mercurius Elencticus.
AuthorMercurius Elenticus..
Extent Approx. 16 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 5 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images.
SeriesEarly English books online.
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(EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. A85321)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 165098)

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About the source text

Bibliographic informationThe first part of the last wil & testament of Philip Earle of Pembrooke and Montgomery, Lord of Saint Quintin, &c. now Knight of Berk-shire, dictated by his own mouth, and took by Mr. Michael Oldsworth sometime his Lps secretary, and faithfully engrossed; together with all his Lps. penitent considerations, (delivered in most patheticall expressions) upon every particular of his goods, catttels [sic], chattels, moveable and inmoveable, that are designed in legacy to sundry particular persons of most eminent and remarkable quality. The second part to the same tune, will speedily be exhibited to publique view, as soon as it can be possibly transcribed; / by his Lps most devoted honour. Mercurius Elencticus. Mercurius Elenticus.. [8] p. s.n.],[London :Printed in the year, 1649.. (A satire on Pembroke and Oldisworth.) (Place of publication from Wing.) (Signatures: A⁴.) (A different work from "The last will & testament of Philip Herbert" or "The last will and testament of the Earl of Pembroke".) (No more published?.) (Annotation on Thomason copy: "May 11th".) (Reproduction of the original in the British Library.)
  • Pembroke, Philip Herbert, -- Earl of, 1584-1650 -- Humor -- Early works to 1800.
  • Oldisworth, Michael, 1591-1654? -- Humor -- Early works to 1800.
  • Great Britain -- Politics and government -- 1649-1660 -- Early works to 1800.

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ImprintAnn Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2011-12 (EEBO-TCP Phase 2).
  • DLPS A85321
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  • EEBO-CITATION 99872929
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