THE CHARTER; A Comical Satyr.
Writtten by an Unknown Hand.
Rumpatur quisquis rumpitur invidia.
Mart. Epig.
LONDON: Printed for Alex. Banks, Anno Domini 1682.
The Charter: A Comical SATYR.
Fire! Fire! Fire! Help, All's in Flames!
Pray come, for the Lords sake of Three Names!
Sons of Committee-men
and Sequestrators,
Old Rebels,
and new Associators;
Call the Cashier'd Officers,
and Justice,
(Whose Mettle like to be eat with Rust is,)
Step to the Synagogue, and Jenkins
Pew,
Call all the Gentiles
and the Jew;
For such Wild-fires
are amongst us thrown,
(Worse then the Jesuits )
'twill burn's quite down;
A damn'd Fire-ball call'd Quo Warranto
Will bring all our hopes to Acheronto.
AS
Sampson's Strength up in his Hair was ty'd,
Rebellions Strength was in the
Charter hid;
Late in a
Trumpet Treason every Punk
Could speak; now't must be whisper'd through a
Trunk;
By
Charter, Brother Traytor we could free,
Now there's no Priviledge for
Perjury:
Next time my Lord, beware the
Medal-house
Though we'd be damn'd for't, we can't save your souse;
We've done as much for you as men could do,
Ventur'd our
Souls, and lost our
Charter too.
And is that all? Come, ben't crest-fall'n, make shift,
And bear up, I'le help you at a dead lift;
Something may yet be done, though we daren't touch
On
Meal-Tub Plots lest caught i'th'
Bolting-hutch.
How says your Lordship, (for your Honour's free)
Capital Member of our Company;
[Page 2]And you know well 'tis out of Fashion,
For
Tradesmen to sink in Desperation;)
Methinks, though we broke at State (for Sins,)
We may drive our old Trade of
Cony-skins,
And
Kid-knapping? Sell
Brock and
Dog skin-Muff,
And country Captains Cheat with
Horse-skin-Buff?
We must imploy our Talents, still, devise,
A hundred
Prod'gies, and
Prodigious Lyes;
The Hook of
Popery won't take small
Fish now, (fy on't) The
French have quite marr'd all,
The
Whore of Babylon, and
Antchrist.
He hath ground to powder and spoil'd our Grist;
Who would have thought that
Ʋnchristian King
Would stop our Mouths with such a
Christian thing?
But yet we'l sigh, and groan, and shake the head,
In time
Rebellion may be brought to Bed,
With good
Midwifery, and the good Wives aid,
To whom such Tales as these must still be said;
How a
Child spoke as soon as born we'll tell;
(Perhaps before, to ears that could hear well;)
Tell
Nothern-men how
Six Suns did appear
At once i'th
South; to
Southern, Eight Moons there.
Then for a touch of
Prophecies we'l say,
The Isle O
Brazeel but the other day
Appear'd to a good Master
of a Ship,
Where an
old woman that gave Death the slip
E're since the
Deluge, told him, that the Time
Of the
Saints Government was now at Prime;
Down goes
Baalam, Ashteroth and
Dagon,
Down goes
Bell, and then up goes the
Dragon.
But now let's gybe the Sail, and catch the Wind,
And make a Tack to fetch you up behind.
There was a time (they say) since the world stood,
You had a
Charter never to be good.
Have you forgot your
Routs and
Ryots, when
You forc't the
best of Kings, and
best of Men
[Page 3]To fly from's
Royal Palace, and betake
Himself to
Forest-shelter, and the brake?
When the
Divine Magicians of your
Town
Chang'd you to
Wolves and Dogs to hunt him down?
Have you forgot how you the
Queen did force,
And
High-born Issue to a sad Divorce
From their
Royal Father? Have you forgot
How you made th'
Crown and Miter go to pot?
First
Clamour, then
Petition, Last you bring
Rebellion, a compleat
Sin-Offering:
Say
Obediah, tell me if you please,
Had you a
Charter for such
Tricks as these?
Once more Beloved; Have you forgot when
Drums
Beat up for
Bankrupt and
Religious Thrums?
When
Hungry Levites, and
starv'd 'Prentices
Sally'd from their dark
Cells and
Penthouses,
And like the
Plagues of
Aegypt spread all o're,
Some for to stench us, all for to
devour?
Have you forgot how you did Stab the
King
And
Church, with
Bodkin, Thimble, Spoon and
Ring,
And like the
Indians prostitute your selves,
For th'
Develish Idol of your
Cause and
Elves?
Say
Annanias, tell me if you please,
Had you a
Charter for such
Tricks as these?
Surely the
Act of
Amnesty is spilt
On those claim
Pardon, won't renounce the
Guilt;
A
Realm divided 'gainst it self can't stand,
Nor
City, if by such as You 'twere man'd;
In vain are
Oaths and
Witnesses, if th'
Shreive
Can pack a
Jury, that will not
believe:
The
Pope and
Conclave sure have chang'd their Nests,
And took their
Quarters up within your Breasts;
Their High
Prerogatives to you resign'd,
Can
Damn the Innocent, and
Saint the Fiend;
Or else your
Conscience and
Religion
Are inspir'd with
Mahomet's
Pidgeon,
[Page 4]A Race of
Chequer-work that's intertext
With the worst
Christian and worst
Jew mixt,
A kind of
circum-uncircumcised kind,
Can Swear the Body, and not Swear the Mind;
(As
Senators (for to get in)
must Swear;
Then keep their first vow,
to depose the Heir;)
And all this's done by virtue of the
Bull
Of
Magna Charta, and a
Tub-pulpit-full.
Sons of
Oedipus, we know you enough,
The mark of
Cain is graven on your
Brow;
Not for the
Churches, nor for the
Crown-Land,
But for the
Twelve Apostles 'tis you stand.
St.
Paul for
London, St.
Peter for
Rome,
Judas for th'
Suburbs till the day of
Doom;
'Tis not the first time you have shew'd your
Leige,
How you hate
Idols, but love
Sacriledge;
'Tis hard to say, to whom we're most in Debt,
To the
Jesu, or to the
Judas-it;
Lyons and
Ʋnicorns support our
Arms,
But these are th'
Beasts that do support our
Harms.
Now to the
Quo Warranto we must plead,
Help
P. W. T. lend's all your aid,
For if that be lost, we're all Bewray'd.
O
Divine Charter, It would burst our heart,
If th'
Ark from
Israel should thus depart!
But don't bring Pleas as vast as th' Book of
Martyr.
To
Obstruct Justice, and prolong your
Charter;
Speak to th' point good
Brother, what canst say,
To keep this
Charter ever and for ay?
Please You my Lord, our Charter
's Sacred made
By Grants
so many, none can it invade;
Of Twenty Kings
and Senats
hath the Seal.
The
Pope had more before he did
Rebell
Against the
Law of
God and of the
King,
He was
confiscate for the self-same thing;
The
Law's the rule of
Peace, it doth not jar
[...]'t self, 't hath no
Repugnance, nor
War.
If
Kings themselves can't give their
Crowns away,
Then
Kings by
Law can't
Themselves betray.
Look you
Brother, here you have misus'd
Your
Charter, and the
Known Laws abus'd;
Ryots and
Routs, You that should them suppress,
You have
promoted to a great excess;
You have pick'd
Juries, pack'd them for your
Cause,
And this destroys the
Fundamental Laws;
You that should
Schism and
Faction quell, support
Ʋnlawful Meetings, and to them resort;
What shall I say of
Oaths? You
Allegiance Swear
To day, to morrow would
expel the Heir;
VVhose
Crimes beyond all
Presidents go,
Forfeit their
Chattels, and their
Charter too.
To this we answer, Let the sinner die,
A
Tooth for a
Tooth, and
Eye for
Eye;
Let the
Transgressors of the Law be lasht,
But do not let the
Law it self be dasht;
Things that have
Sanction of long time, and great
Authority, should not be lightly set.
In days of old, when
Subjects Innocence,
Virtue and
Goodness did oblige their
Prince;
The greatness of the
Monarchs mind was such,
They thought good
Subjects could not have too much;
But yet they ne're intended publick wrong
By
private Act, that's but an ill-tun'd Song;
They us'd their
Charter meerly to support
The
Government, You to betray the
Fort;
And 'twas not
Sodom's sins, But 'twas the
Men
Cast
Town and
Charter in the
Sulphrous Fen;
Your
Oracle hath spoke, and 'tmust be so;
Carthago delenda est, down 'tmust go.
VVhere now do all our learn'd
Chaldeans keep?
Be all our
Soothsayers and
'Strologers asleep?
I'th'
Blazing Stars Praedictions was a Flaw;
Or You said
Antichrist for
Anti-Law.
To mean the
Charter, when they nam'd the
Pope;
VVell, there's no help for't now, she must be stript,
That's caught a
Whoring, and
severely Whipt;
The doubt of
Tyrany late turn'd your Maw;
How do you like this
Governing by Law?
VVhen
Lunaticks are in their
Frantick fits,
'Tis the best expedient to reduce their
Wits.
Son of a Slave, is't not enough to
cheat
Fools of their Money, but you must
defeat
Them of their
Souls? Duties to their
GOD and
Prince?
VVas this the
Trade you're bound to 10 years since?
Sell your
Pole-davis, pack up your
false Ware,
And be content to cheat your
Chap-men there;
You ne're were
'Prentice to a
States-man sure!
Say some
Great Knave, (to draw thee to this Lure,)
Should stroke thee on the addle head, and cry;
Come honest Tom,
(thou know'st better than I)
We're like to have sad times you see;
Religion groans, and bleeding Liberty;
The honest Subject he must be disgrac'd,
And every sober Officer displac'd;
We can't keep Feast nor Fast for th' Nations good,
But all's misconstru'd and misunderstood;
The Plot
is vanish'd, and the Duke appears;
Tom,
han't we cause for Jealousies and Fears?
Perhaps thou sigh'st then till thy Buttons Crack,
And (as thy Soul was tort'ring on the Rack,)
From the
vesuvus of thy
Smoaking Zeal,
Thou bellowst forth this lamentable Peal.
'Ah! My dear Lard! Happy the
Womb that bore
'An heart so
Noble, Israel can deplore
'In such sad times as these, when
Woes us shroud,
'That
Moses will conduct us in a
Cloud!
'VVe are all grieved with Extremities,
'And
Pharaoh's deaf to all our Plaints and Cries!
'Our
Wills with Bridle, and our Mouths with Bitt
'Are held by force, our
Sanbedrims shan't sit;
'We can't stoop down to
Baal; Saints that have right
'To
Judge the Earth are Ravisht of their might;
'Our Hands are Fetter'd, and our Hearts complain,
'That
Free-born Spirits should be thrall'd in
Chain;
'These, and ten thousand grievances we have;
'But you must save poor
dying Souls from Grave.
'Sweet Lord, But
Orpheus, who should take the pain
'To bring
Euridice from
Hell again?
How, drooping? (quoth my Lord?) hold up good
Tom,
Of my
Spirit of
Sulpur take a Dram;
Though at a Slight or two, wer'e almost gone,
He's a poor Juggler, that han't more tricks than one,
I'le call my familiar, —
Presto appear;
He comes, —and whispers in my Ear.
Courage
Mounsieur, and do not be dismaid,
From
Pluto's
Councel-Board, I'le still bring aid;
Stand but your ground, and doubt no overthrow,
Whilst there's a Fury in the deep below;
A thousand ways, a thousand VViles we'l try,
In
Town must set the
Stygian Company;
Whose Countrey
Factors must retail their
Wares
From
House to
House as do the
Scotchmen theirs:
Complain of
Taxes in time of
Wars;
In peace of
Trade, and
evil Councellors;
Invetrate
Lechers when their Lust departs,
To keep the Sports up, they must use new Arts.
We must the
Crowns Prerogative impair,
The
Negative Voice in th'
Commons declare;
Slight all the
Kings Alliances, disgrace
Foreign Embassadors in every place;
Say that
Ben Hadu Otor's scarce half man'd
(Though wiser far) than all our
Knaves i'th' Land;
We are all
Brethren, and we now must
Plow,
With all our
Heifers, Might and Main must bow;
Re-mind the
Folk; that they're the
Government;
We shall have one at last I'me sure, and then
We'l make such
Senators shall make Us
Men:
The
Tide may turn,
States have their
Ebb and
Flow,
And we may catch them when the
Water's low;
Children must be provided for, and
Wars
May hap, (
Crowns themselves are not free from
cares;)
Then
Money must be had, our
Silver Coin
Shall buy good part of
Pharoahs Golden Mine;
We are all
Tradesmen now, and what we give
'T shall be but
Bartring for
Prerogative;
Fetch the
Addressors up, and scour the
Coast
Of all the
Tories and
Abhorring Hoast;
Hang up the
Judges, and
Grand-Juries clap
Close in
Goals, that stood i'th'
Royal gap;
Dawn but that day, (quoth
Tom) and we will Sing,
A
Headless Councel, and a
Headless King.
Hold quoth my Lord, too fast, now you ramble;
(Quoth
Tom) to keep pace we'y' I must
Amble.
Bless me my
Stars! Can such as these men be
The
Bulwarks of our
Church and
Liberty?
Send them to the
Morocco in
Exchange
For's
Estriches and
Lyons, they're
Beasts more strange.
The
French 'tis said, Fees any one that's rare,
Pray Cross the
Waters, and to him repair;
If there be any
Spirits that excel
You in
Sedition, they must come from
Hell.
VVe know the
Idol of your
Charter's dear
To you, as
Laban's
Gods to
Rachel were
In her
pollutions, which she slily hid,
Because all search there
Modesty forbid;
But your
pollutions in your
Charter Reign,
And hope it shall your
Wickedness maintain.
No Time, no, nor
Authority can give
Such
Sanction as to make
Corruption live.
But Master
Ignoramus, make right view;
And sure 'tis not your
Charter squints, but You;
There's no such thing as the
Kings Friends shall bleed,
And's
Mortal Enemies for
Treason free'd.
You're
fine Fellows to
Judge th'Twelve
Tribes; I fear
By
Magna Charta you will scarce sit there:
Cabbage twice boild's stark naught, and th' discourse
(You know) in
Pulpit still the same, is worse
Consider
Rabby (You are wise and Sage)
Rebels and
Jubilees thrive but once an age:
Alas you know it was but th' other day
VVith
Drum and
Trumpet, Fool and
Knave, this
Play
VVas Acted to our
cost of lives and Ore,
Pack up your
Nawls, we'l be deceiv'd no more:
Grant some
great Lord or two did chance to jar,
(VVith
Cedars well as
Shrubs, such Chances are;)
But yet methinks, the
Twigs should grateful be
To th'
Root that gave them all their Bravery.
Malice ne're want's for
Mischief, and
Revenge
Is dearer much to
Mortals, than the
Fringe
Of
Heaven; The
Soul of
Body and
'State;
And ev'ry Nerve's imploy'd to serve its Hate.
The
Cunning and the
Crafty must be bought,
The
Young and
Sportive; they are easy caught;
The
Discontented must be left alive,
VVith hopes of his ambitious
Retrieve;
Sticks of all sorts and sizes it must get,
To make the
Flame, and to increase the heat;
And still
Religion makes the
Oven red,
Or else quite spoild's the
Batch of
Ginger-bread.
Then crawls the
Insects forth, their Kingdoms come,
Still where the
Carrion is those
Creatures rome,
And buzzing up and down the
Town they cry,
For
Liberty, and for the
Truth we'l die.
VVhat
Snake-hair'd Jury with
Infernal Brand,
Broke loose from
Hell thus to
Inflame the
Land?
[Page 10]Take a Survey of all the
World beside,
Subjects are
Slaves, each
English seems a
Dride;
If
Heaven should bid a
Subject to implore
VVhat
Bliss we want, he could not ask for more;
Oh the
unhappy State of
Happiness!
They enjoy more that do enjoy much less;
Rome in it's Pomp and Pride could never shew
Men of that
bulk of
Wealth in
England flow;
And every
Cottager lives frank and free
As
Jove, Here's a perpetual
Jubilee:
Hear one great truth an
English Poet Sings,
We have one
Emperour, and a
Million Kings.
To the KING.
Celestial Prince, descended from above,
With
Goodness, and the Wisdom of great
Jove;
Hovring the
Doves with thy
Seraphick Wings,
Still Shielding
Church and
State from
Serpents Stings,
Accept the
Addresses of our
Humble praise
'Tis all the
Incense Men to
God can praise.
When
Civil War three
Kingdoms did inthrall,
You were the
Saviour that
Redeem'd us all,
And rais'd
miraculously from their
Graves,
Three
Soul-sunk Nations that were
Slaves to
Slaves;
Mean Thanks do mighty favours quite disgrace,
But dull
Ingratitude becomes the base:
How Justly may'st thou let thy
Thunder fly?
Both
Gyants and
Pigmies doom'd to die.
What, will they
War with
Jove? in vain, in vain;
Whom th' Gods have Crown'd, in spighr of
Worms shall
Reign;
Repent proud Dust before it be too late,
Strike Sail; my
Muse shall be your
Advocate.
Hear great
Apollo, Phoebus lend thine ear
To an
unpolisht Muses humble Prayer.
She lifts no
Phaetontick Palm on high;
Lo, her request is veil'd with modesty;
Thou that art goodness
Essence, Thou that keeps
Clemency waking that she never sleeps;
[Page 11]Look on the
Errours of Mortality
With the
Kind Aspect of your
God-like Eye.
Though they have sin'd (and certainly a Sin
To death, had it against a bad
Prince been,)
And their
Transgressions in an high degree,
Are aggravated to sin thus against
Thee;
My poor
Muse begs, (although
their Sins be great,)
That Thou wouldst not
Forget, to
forget.
To the DUKE
And Thou Great
Hero of loud Flames first rate
(Still partner of your
Royal Brothers Fate)
Who baffle
Mischief, and her Dart despise,
And stand the firmer, for her
Batteries;
VVhilst
Envy toyls her self quite out of breath,
You undisturb'd can smile the
Wretch to death.
Malice is now in a
Consumption grown;
To see her self mistook in
You alone;
Still the more venom that You on they throw,
Still You the Taller, and more Lovely grow;
Can walk the
Fiery Furnace, and no
Hair
Sing'd, no
smell of Fire, no
impair:
Fond men! To hope they can destroy whom
Jove
Preserves by
Wonders and peculiar
Love:
VVell may they
droop their Heads, and
Necks incline,
As
Tulips Frost-bit with a
Northern wind;
To
Prudence still and
Piety you'r
Just,
And will forgive, whom none will wish to trust.
To the LORDS.
You of the
Constellation that maintain
Your
Starry Glories from
Apostate Stain;
You whose
chast Loyaly for ever stream'd
To th'
Royal Lamp of Honour whence You beam'd,
You shall for ever share the
Muses Praise,
VVhilst
Helicon hath
Drops, Apollo Bays.
To the GENTRY.
Come
Brothers of the
Minor Stars, that are
No
wandring Planets, but
fixt in Your
Sphere;
[Page 12]You that hvea vow'd to be so true
To
Charles, that to your selves you be so;
(And sure I am your
Oath will not be broke,
You'l bow to
Destiny, before the
Yoke)
VVe must not praise nor thank our selves, that's vain,
That were but
Champarty (You know) in grain;
But we'l so
Loyal and so
Faithful live
That
Church and
Crown's Fees us no thanks shall give.
To the Common Councel & Court of Aldermen.
And You brave
Citizens, so Rich and wise,
(The Boons of
Heaven due to
Loyalties)
Heaven marks them who from
Allegiance stray,
(VVith
Children, Wits, or
Fortunes quite awry.)
You that hold th'
Rains, curb the
head strong Jaws
Of
Asses kickt at
Governours and
Laws;
You know That
Trade doth still most profit bring,
To them are true to
God, and to their
King;
Long may you live, and may the
Town and
Court
Be happy in the prayers of my poor heart;
May no
King want such
Citizens I pray,
Nor
Townsmen Prince, like him they now enjoy.
Livery-men.
But You that are now of th' new
Livery,
And
Old Leven, look for no thanks from me;
Keep to your
Gods; On damned
Bradshaw call,
Implore the shades of
Ireton and
Noll;
To come improv'd from
Hell, and be so good
To set crackt men with
Plunder up, and Bloud;
The
Rabble shall no longer rule this
Town,
Rebellions Charter now must go down, down:
But yet we'l beg the
King that he would please
To give another on good terms as these.
Countreys o're grown with
Beasts of Rapine, be
Ty'd to destroy the
common Enemy,
And bound by
Charter yearly to afford
So many
Fox or
Wolf-skins to the Lord:
London, once bounded in
Walls, is now boundless
Grown from a
City to a
Wilderness;
More and worse vermin lurk in 't's Holes and Dens,
Than
Wolves in
Tory-Land, or
Frogs in
Fens:
If they renew their
Charter, may they pay
A
Rebels head for
Quit-rent every day,
And a
Whores Liver, till the
Town be found
Honest, and (like the
Loyal Countrey) sound.
Now we have done, we have not done; what's there?
See how the
Mutinous women appear!
Nip
Insurrections in the bud;
Drums beat
A parl, and let us with the
Females treat;
VVhat would the
good wives have? Forbear slaughter!
Then quoth the
Amazons, we'l keep our
Charter;
And thus pleads first a
Mouse-trap-makers VVife;
Before we'l loose our
Honour, we'l loose
Life;
Honour than
Food or
Rayment priz'd more high;
For
It we'l live, and for
It we will die
Farewel
Charter, Farewel
Gentility.
Next comes a bouncing
Butchers Wife i'th' Van,
VVith a
Cow-killing Pole-ax in her Hand,
D'y' think we'l loose our
Charter? And be stil'd
[...]ro,
As
Fish-women be in
Bore-Land, and well so?
Master
Punch Kills an
Ox, and Twenty
Sheep
Each week i'th' year, and I the
Stall do keep;
Shall all this
Bloud (besides a
Freemans Wife)
Now loose it's
Honour? By my
Butchers life,
For our
Noble Charter we will stand and fall,
For if we loose our
Arms, we then loose
all.
Then spoke a
Chandlers Wife with
Ale-stuft-Lungs,
As big as
Tun, foaming at all her
Bungs;
D'ye think I'le sit at
Bar all day for th'
Fees
I get by
Porters Penny
Bread and
Cheese,
And see the
Slaves, like
Clowns in
Sussex, come,
And cry
Dame where is your
Husband? at home?
Shall't be Madam
Creswell, and not Mis
Keeling?
Quoth Mistress
Fough, 'twould be a stinking life,
If I were not Master
Gold-Finders Wife;
If farewel
Charter, farewel to all
The
Nobility of
Pin-makers-Hall,
Stand to your
Arms both
Life and
Limb shall go
To save our
Honour, and our
Charter too.
A
Reverend Matron, in whose
Loyal Face,
VVas every touch of
Modesty and
Grace,
Hearing their
Grievances, ventur'd the
Crowd,
And thus she spake, and thus their Ears they bow'd;
'Dear Sisters of the
Livery, appease
'The boisterous bellows of your
passions cease,
'You know that oftentimes untimely fears
'Unform the
Men, and them transform to
Hares,
'And
Jealousy's our
Sexes cursed
Spell,
'Transforms us
Angels to the
Hags of Hell.
The last old
Charter which you so deplore,
VVas granted to us in the days of
Yore,
And many an odde thing was in't; 'twas done
VVhen th' Land with
Popery was over-run,
And now by
Law 'tis so repugnant found,
That th'
Law it self is in that
Charter drown'd;
But there's another in the
Mint for you,
According to your hearts desire,
New, New;
Not after the old
Superstitious Fashion;
But
New, according to the
Reformation:
For we that were but
Mistresses before,
Shall now be
Masters, Lords, and something more;
Moreover, 'tis provided, all the
Geese
In
London shall have two
Ganders apiece;
Double man'd; And if that be not
Satis,
You shall have your
Boys on
Sundays Gratis,
This said, they shout, and made the
Welkin ring;
Cry'd,
Damn th' old Charter, and
God save the KING.
FINIS.