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ΙΠΠ-ΑΝΘΡΩΠΟΣ: OR, AN Ironicall Expoſtulation WITH DEATH and FATE, For the Loſſe of The late Lord Mayor of LONDON; Who on Friday October 27. 1648. expired to­gether with his Office; and both He and his Bay-Horſe di'd o'th' Sullens.

VVhereunto is annexed an Epitaph both on Mayor and Horſe.

Alſo a Dialogicall brief Diſcourſe held Octob. 29 between Col. Rainsborough and Charon, at their Meeting.

Compoſed by Philanar and Miſoſtratus, two London-Apprentices once in-Counter'd laſt yeer for their Loyalty.

Si Cato reddatur, Caeſarianus erit. Martial.

Printed, Anno exulantis Monarchiae 8. Anno Domini 1648.

1

ΙΠΠ-ΑΝΘΡΩΠΟΣ: OR, An Ironicall Expoſtulation with Death and Fate, for the loſſe of the late Lord Mayor of London.

FOrtune, thou art a Whore; and Death, thou art
('Tis to be fear'd) a Cavaleer in Heart:
You, that ſo formall ſtand with Scythe and Glaſſe,
Think not in private with our Lord to paſſe,
Was there but one choice peice? one dainty bit,
And your leane ugly Jaws muſt fall on it?
Were there not Dray-men, Butchers, plump and fat,
But you muſt pick a Weaſle out, a Rat?
Was it you took a liking to the Elfe,
For his Complexion, 'twas ſo like your ſelfe?
Or for your Eaſe, left a more weighty pack
Should in the tranſportation break your back?
Was it you found him grating of a ſcuil
Which you might call your owne, you did him cull?
Or that his ſoveraign*
*He was a Druggiſt in Bucklers Berry.
* Drugs reſtor'd a Brother,
That through an Hurdle ſuckt (you'l ſay) his Mother?
Was it you came before his Plots were ripe,
And he refus'd to ask you, ſmoake a Pipe?
If none of theſe, why then ſo haſty, Death?
What, not afford a Lord Mayor two daies breath?
When the Potato-Pies, and Capons were
Bought, and in readineſſe to end the year?
If 'twas his lot to die, well; elſe 'twas baſe,
To cull a Magiſtrate for's Chain, or Mace.
This was plain Tyranny, we cannot blame
Him for an Independent, when you came.
2
Reſtore him to us; ſure 'twas a miſtake,
King Noll and's Kindred elſe will make you quake.
Was it for this he did ſo long oppoſe
Monarchy, and Princes, to be led by th' Noſe,
And ſhown in Pluto's Court, with O yes! here
Comes my Lord Mayre and's Horſe; provide um cheere?
Was it for this he became Pimp, to th' State,
And to admit their Army op'd the Gate?
While in Triumphant manner they beſtrid
London, like George on Horſeback, as they rid?
Was it for preſervation of the flock,
So many o'th' wicked he condemn'd to th' Block?
And with his ſword of Power cut in two
What neither Law nor Justice e're could do?
O Death! thou art ungratefull; he has ſent
More to thee in one yeare then th' Plague or Lent.
By Proclamations, by Collections too
'Gainſt th' Common Enemy what e're would do.
I ſay again, reſtore, or wee'l appeale
And have you put down Traytor under ſeale.
Say Mr. Speaker, is't not Treaſon ſcan'd,
For Death t' arrest a Member under hand
And without th' Houſes leave? — I know 'tis ſo,
Youl find it — Caroli Viceſimo.
Is't not againſt an Order lately made,
All Members to be free, their debts unpaid?
Did they not pitch upon a day, to wit,
Doomsday ith' Afternoon to think on it?
But all this will not do: hee's gon to tell
Hampden and Brooks, and Pym the Newes in Hell.
How there is Peace (God bleſſe us) coming on
(That Antichriſtian brat of Babylon)
When 'tis againſt his Conſcience to ſubmit
Or have a finger in reſtoring it.
Would not the world cry ſhame,
Mr. War­ner.
ſhould he accord
VVho in his Name has War, and's Armes the ſword?
Hee's gon to tell them of a certain thing
Coming to London, whom men call the King:
3
Whoſe Scepter will out-ſway, and bring in thrall
Th'eſtabliſh'd Government Anarchicall.
And with his Radiant luſtre quite diſpell
What for theſe ſeven years has been hatch'd in Hell.
Yet let none ſay he's broke or run away,
But (as the wiſer call't) he did convey
Himſelfe into a Church, in policie,
Where he was ſure none would ſuſpect him lie.
No clamorous Bell pronounce his fall, no Gun,
He was no Warriar, nor no Whittington.
(Only the joviall Butchers (in the Stocks)
Gave him a diſmall peale with cleaver-knocks.)
Let him ſans Common-Prayer in ſilence paſſe,
Be buried with the buriall of an Aſse.
So farewell horſe and man, dead and forgot,
Both infamous let both together rot.
Rejoyce Apprentices, your day is come
No more to ſtand in fear of Martyrdome:
No more ſhall yee to Bridewell go, and pay
For your extravagance the laſt Lords day.
Now ye may circumambulate, and ſee
Morefields and Iſlington without a fee.
No more henceforth ſhall th' Surry Cavaliers
Go home and ſhake their heads without their eares.
All troubled waters now ſhall to their ſprings
Returne, and one raigne, not five hundred Kings.
Yet all this while we erre, and accuſe Fate,
When he his own end did accelerate;
For having drunk a ſcruple over-night
Of jealouſies and fears, he took his flight.
Thus Hanniball, and thoſe heroick blades,
Minding an eaſie way to get to th' Shades,
Made uſe o'th' Druggiſts Art, and to provide
'Gainſt future vengeance, drunk their doſſe, and di'd.
4

An Epitaph on the Mayor, &c.

VNder this Tomb-ſtone lies a thing,
Enemy both to Church and King.
No Protestant, and yet no Papist,
A Puritan, and yet an Atheiſt.
For Magiſtracy a grand ſtickler,
Yet a moſt zealous Conventickler:
One that for Chriſt would live and die,
(Yet kept no Chriſt-tide verily.)
One that the Prophets ſlew, and took
Th' Apostles badge from out the Booke.
One that the Rubrick took away,
And gave th' Apprentices Tueſday.
One that did every thing amiſse,
Then riddle me, riddle me, who was this?

An Epitaph on my Lord Mayors Horſe.

HEre in this Oyle-Tub (Reader ſtand aloofe)
Lies great Bucephalus, beware his hoofe;
Who out of a good nature needs would die,
Meerly to keep his Maſter company.
Bay was his name, ſome call'd him, Roſemary,
For his victorious feats, and Chivalry:
But if he had no name, the Bulks and Shambles
Would ſpeak him famous for his Chriſtmaſse Gambolls:
When from an Amble to a Trot anon
Bravely he trod down Superſtition.
For which rare ſervice 'tis decreed he lie
Pickled and Powder'd for Poſterity.
And live by this Inſcription (ſomewhat courſe)
Down went the Popiſh Rites, Grammercy Horſe.
5

A Dialogicall brief Diſcourſe be­tween Rainsborough and Charon, at their meeting, Octob. 29. 1648.

Cha­ron.
WElcome to th' ſhades; hail Brother Rainſbo­rough:
I am a Boat-man, ſo were you.
Moſt opportunely! See th' triumphant Mayor;
(No leſſe a man) is our firſt fare.
Had you not come, his Honour had (by Styx)
Fairl 'in a Sculler gone t' Old Nick's.
Rainſb.
Now he may ride in Oares — forbeare; alas,
He that you ſpeak of may not paſſe.
What will Iudge Rhadamanth and Minos ſay,
If we th'*
*Arrreſted by a Knight whoſe ſonne was ſlain in the late bic­kering in London.
* arreſted Corps convey?
I that on Earth was above Law, yet know
How to conforme my ſelf below.
Charon.
Hum! I have loſt my Naula; let it go;
Now to your buſineſſe Rainſborough.
Rainſb.
Know then, that I from th'Engliſh Coaſt am ſent
By th'States, to know your Government.
And e're the Vote paſſe, hence muſt have command,
That the new Anarchy may ſtand:
Speak Charon, ſpeak; if Pluto think it good,
I have already ſeal'd it with my blood.
Charon.
Dull Man, or Ghoſt; or whatſoe're thou art,
Thou think'ſt to alienate my heart:
Know'ſt not we have a Prince; and though the Devill,
One that abjures all you that Levell?
You that incroach, my Office to enjoy;
Were you not once a Skippers Boy?
By all th'infernall gods, lay by thy Spade,
Or be ſuſpected guilty Hell t'invade.
Rainſb.
No more; I yeeld: the Government ſtand,
I was but ſent here under-hand)
6
Yet if our Agents with you here might try,
They would put hard for Anarchy.
Charon.
Anarchy? Hell and Furies! ſuch a word
Once more, and thou go'ſt over-board.
Belzebub, if he knew thee at this height,
Would have thee carbonado'd ſtreight.
Leave us — and yet I'le write thy Epitaph,
Meerly to make the Devill laugh.
For, by the Rabbies leave, without controule,
'Twas not a*
*So Walker upon Tho. Rainsbo­rough, he that from an Ironmon­ger became a Newes­monger, & now makes Hebrew Pot-hooks and And­irons cum privilegio.
* Fire removed his pure Soule.

Epitaph.

WEitring in blood ſee here an Horſe-leech ſprawll,
Glutted and overcharg'd, yet loath to fall;
Bred up 'ith Ocean; lately crept to th' ſhore,
(Though he had all, yet covetous of more)
Which when the wiſe Phiſitian ſaw, his thirſt
That 'twas unſatiable, let him burſt:
So having empti'd and diſgorg'd his Maw,
Hence through the Rubick ſea he ſwam away.
Feare not Coicheſtrian Dames, left Lucas 'riſe;
Veng'ance is fully paid; Here Rainsb'rough lies.
FINIS.

About this transcription

TextHipp-anthropos: or, an ironicall expostulation with death and fate, for the losse of the late Lord Mayor of London; who on Friday October 27. 1648. expired together with his office; and both he and his bay-horse di'd o'th' sullens. VVhereunto is annexed an epitaph both on Mayor and horse. Also a dialogicall brief discourse held octob. 29 between Col. Rainsborough and Charon, at their meeting. Composed by Philanar and Misostratus, two London-apprenticces' once in-counter'd last yeer for their loyalty.
AuthorPhilanar and Misostratus..
Extent Approx. 13 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 5 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images.
Edition1648
SeriesEarly English books online.
Additional notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. A86371)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 117302)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Thomason Tracts ; 75:E472[18])

About the source text

Bibliographic informationHipp-anthropos: or, an ironicall expostulation with death and fate, for the losse of the late Lord Mayor of London; who on Friday October 27. 1648. expired together with his office; and both he and his bay-horse di'd o'th' sullens. VVhereunto is annexed an epitaph both on Mayor and horse. Also a dialogicall brief discourse held octob. 29 between Col. Rainsborough and Charon, at their meeting. Composed by Philanar and Misostratus, two London-apprenticces' once in-counter'd last yeer for their loyalty. Hipp-anthropos. Philanar and Misostratus.. [2], 6 p. [s.n.],[London] :Printed, Anno exulantis Monarchiæ 8. Anno Domini 1648.. (The first word of the title is transliterated from the Greek characters.) (In verse.) (Annotation on Thomason copy: "Nouemb: 17".) (Reproduction of the original in the British Library.)
Languageeng
Classification
  • Rainborow, Thomas, d. 1648.
  • Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Humor -- Early works to 1800.
  • London (England) -- Politics and government -- 17th century -- Early works to 1800.

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ImprintAnn Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2011-12 (EEBO-TCP Phase 2).
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  • STC Wing H2069
  • STC Thomason E472_18
  • STC ESTC R205800
  • EEBO-CITATION 99865067
  • PROQUEST 99865067
  • VID 117302
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