THE Saints new Charte● Written occasionly upon the QUOWARRANT● With some remarks upon the late● riots, & ● Written by an unknown Hand. Rumpatur quisquis rumpitur invidia. Mart. Epigr. LONDON, Printed for ALEX. BANKS. Anno Domini, 1683 THE CHARTER, A Comical satire. Fire! Fire! Fire! Help, for we're all in Flames! Pray come, for the good Lords sake of Three Names! Sons of Committees, and Sequestrators, Old Rebels, and new Associators; Call the cashiered Officers, and Justice, ( Whose Mettle like to be eat with Rust is,) Step to the Synagogue, and Jenkins Pew, Call all the Gentiles, and knock up the Jew; For such cursed Wild-fire's amongst us thrown, ( Worse than the Jesuits) 'twill burn's quiter down; A Veng'ance Fire-ball called Quo Warranto, Will bring all our hopes to Acheronto. AS Sampson's Strength up in his Hair was tied, Rebellions Strength was in the Charter hide; Late in a Trumpet Treason every Punk Could speak; now't must be whispered through a Trunk; By Charter, Brother traitor we could free, Now there's no privilege for Perjury: Next time my Lord, beware the Medal-house Though weed be damned for't, we can't save your sauce; We've done as much for you as men could do, ventured our Souls, and lost our Charter too. And is that all? Come, ben't crest-fall'n, make shift, And bear up, I'll 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; And you know well that 'tis out of Fashion, For tradesman to sink in Desperation;) Methinks, though we broken 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 employ our Talents, still, device, A hundred Prod'gies, and Prodigious lies; The Hook of Popery won't take small Fish now,( fie on't) The French have quiter marred all, The Whore of Babylon, and Antchrist He hath ground to powder and spoiled our Grist; Who would have thought that Unchristian 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 spoken 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 appeared 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 riots, when You forced the best of Kings, and best of Men To fly from's Royal Palace, and betake Himself to Forest-shelter, and the broke? When the Divine Magicians of your Town changed 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 mitre go to pot? First Clamour, then Petition, Last you bring Rebellion, a complete 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 ●evites, and starved 'Prentices Sally'd from their dark Cells and Penthouses, And like the Plagues of egypt spreads all o'●e, 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 yourselves, For th' devilish 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 spilled On those claim Pardon, won't renounce the Guilt; A Realm divided 'gainst itself 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: A Turk's good Evidence, 'tis very True, Against a Christian, not against a JEW. The Pope and Conclave sure have changed their Nests, And took their Quarters up within your Breasts; Their High Prerogatives to You resigned, Can Damn the Innocent, and Saint the Fiend; Or else your Conscience and Religion Are inspired with Mahomet's pigeon, A R●ce of Chequer-work that's intertext With the worst Christian and worst Jew mixed, 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 the COVENANT to Depose the Heir;) And all this's done by virtue of the Bull Charta pro Causa, and a Tub-Pulpit full. Sons of Oedipus, we know you enough, The mark of Cain is graved 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 liege, How you hate Idols, but love sacrilege; 'Tis hard to say, to whom we're most in Debt, To the Jesu, or to the Judas-it; lions and Unicorns support our Arms, But these are th' Beasts that do support our Harms. Now to the Quo Warranto we must Tack, join my Lord's ●ennel to the City Pack; Speak, Joller, Jolly, Jewel, Whig-dog; Quest, Bouncer, Bawler, Blew-lips, and the rest. O Divine Charter, It would burst my heart, If th' Ark from Israel should thus depart! But don't bring Pleas as vast as th' Book of Martyr T' 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 demonstrates hath the Seal. The Pope had more before he did Rebel 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 In'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 misused Your Charter, and the Known Laws abused; riots and Routs, You that should them suppress, You have promoted to a great Excess; you have picked Juries, packed them for your Cause, And this destroys the Fundamental Laws; You that should Schism and Faction quell, support Unlawful Meetings, and to them resort; What shall I say of Oaths? You Allegiance Swear To day, to morrow would expel the Heir; Whose 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 lashed, But do not let the Law itself be dashed; 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 public wrong By private Act, that's but an ill-tun'd Song; They used their Charter merely 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 spoken, and 'tmust be so; Carthago delenda est, down 'tmust go. Where now do all our learned Chaldeans keep? Be our Soothsayers and ' Strologers asleep? I'th' Blazing Stars predictions was a Flaw; You said Antichrist for Anti-Law. Oft men of Art by Figure take that Scope To mean the Charter, when they named the Pope; Well, there's no help for't now, she must be stripped, That's caught a Whoring, and severely whipped; The doubt of tyranny late turned your Maw; How do You like this Governing by Law? When lunatics are in their ●rantick 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? Was 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 apprentice 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 disgraced, And every sober Officer displaced; We can't keep Feast nor ●ast for th'Nations good, But all's misconstru'd and misunderstood; The Plot is vanished, 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 smoking 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 shrowded, ' That Moses will conduct us in a Cloud! ' We are all grieved with Extremities; ' And Pharaoh's deaf to all our Plaints and Cries; 'Our Wills with Bridle, and our Mouths with bit ' Are held by force, our Sanhedrims shan't sit; ' We can't stoop down to Baal; Saints that have right 'To Judge the Earth are ravished of their might; 'Our Hands are fettered, 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 th'Grave. ' Sweet Lord,( But Orpheus,) who should take the pain 'To bring eurydice from Hell again? How, drooping?( quoth my Lord?) hold up good Tom, Of my Spirit of Sulphur 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'll call my familiar,— Presto appear; He comes,— and whispers in my Ear. Courage monsieur, and do not be dismayed, From Pluto's Councel-Board, I'll still bring aid; Stand but your ground, and doubt no overthrow, Whilst there's a Fury in the deep below; Fig for the Globe and sceptre too to boot; The Trades-man's YARD is longer by a Foot; Be Impudent enough, Affronts repeat, Nothing's so brave as th' Base to Brow the Great. A thousand ways, a thousand Wiles we'l try, In Town must set the Stygian Company, Whose country Factors must retail their wears From House to House, as do the Scotchmen theirs, Complain of Taxes in time of Wars; In peace of Trade, and evil Councellors; Invet'rate 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, To Counterfeit the COIN 'tis Treason made, But not the PRINCES Power to Invade; 'Tis Orthodox the longest Day you live, Your Rights t'Encroach, and Rob th'Prerogative, Slight all the Kings Alliances, disgrace Foreign ambassadors 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; Every new Moon a new Parliament can't remind the Folk, that they're the Government; We shall have one at last I'm 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 tradesman now, and what we give 'tshall be but bartering for Prerogative; Fetch the Addressors up, and scour the cost Of all the Tories and Abhorring host; Hang up the Judges, and Grand-Juries clap Close in Goals, that stood i'th' Royal gap; down but that day,( quoth Tom) and we will Sing, A Headless council, and a Headless King. Hold quoth my Lord, too fast, now you ramble; ( Quoth Tom) to keep place wi'y ' I must Amble. Bless me my Stars! Can such as these men be The Bulwarks of our Church and Liberty? sand them to the Morocco in Exchange For's ostriches and lions, they're Beasts more strange. The French 'tis said, Fees any one that's rare, Pray across the Waters, and to him repair; If there be any Spirits that excel You in Sedition, they must come from Hell. We know the Idol of your Charter's dear To you, as Laban's Gods to Rahel were In her pollutions, which she slily hide, Because all search there Modesty forbid; But your pollutions in your Charter Reign, And hope it shall your Wickedness maintain. No Date of Time, no Power on Earth 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 freeed. You're fine Fellows to Judge th'Twelve Tribes; I fear By Magna Charta you will scarce sit there: Cabbage twice boil'd's stark nought, and th' discourse ( You know) in Pulpit still the same, is worse. Consider rabbi( You are wise and Sage) Rebels and Jubilees thrive but once an age: Alas you know it was but th' other day With Drum and Trumpet, Fool and Knave, this Play Was Acted to our cost of lives and Ore, Pack up your Nawls, we'l be deceived no more: Grant some great Lord or two did chance to jar, ( With 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 ●ringe Of Heaven; The Soul of Body and State; And every Nerve's employed to serve its Hate. The unning and the Crafty must be bought, The Young and Sportive, they are easy caught; The Discontented must be left alive, With hopes of his ambitious Retrieve; Sticks of all sorts and sizes it must get, To make the flamme, and to increase the heat; And still Religion makes the Oven read, Or else quiter spoild's the Batch of Ginger-bread. Then crawl the infects forth, their Kingdom's 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. To Hang for Rascals first, I wish you'd try. Hark Villains, hark! Your base Rebellious Lust, And our Loyalties have the self-same gust; Your Goats blood cannot itch so much to down With Both, as we to prop the Church and Crown. I saw your Spells the Votes; 'twas bravely done; As with the Father, you'd deal with the Son. I've seen your Martyrs, Peters, Scot, and Viner, Sainted in Gold, with college the joiner. I've seen your Pamphlets, Libels, Books of Print; Such ne're before came from the Devil's Mint. I've seen the Doctor's Depositions too; And faith he's done as much as man could do. Won't all this Old-new-found-Art do the work, To pull the King down, and set up the Kirk? What? No Cornucopia to be found? Be all our Knights-Templers laid under ground? Are our Braves good for nothing, but to lap Th' Infected droppings of a Silver Tap? alas! we want Ingredients; Give Us a Parliament that shall ever live, And the Militia, we're completely blessed; CAESAR do that, and then, Sir, do your best. What Snake-hair'd Fury with Infernal Brand, broken loose from Hell thus to Inflame the Land? Shall we be jealous of our blessed Content, Till cracking th'strings, we break the Instrument? Shall our Arch-Angel of the Devil's See drowned Four and twenty of our Hierarchy; And by a Whirl-wind from the Stygian Lake, A glorious Monarch, and Three Kingdoms wreck? Down Asmodeus, down to the Burning Pits, Where Thy Council of State in Brimstone sits: In that dark Concave let thine Envy range: Changing but That, never expect more change. Here pity checks my Spleen; and who can tell Good Angels sorrows, when the Train too fell? But they were blessed with great perfection, And( though seduced) the Crime was All their own, Beneath the Firmament it is not so, Here's Imperfection in the High and Low. One Lucifer on Earth may dangerous prove, More than a Legion to One Saint above. But see! the murdered Martyrs Ghosts appear! Your Native Prince and Fathers Shades stand there! Lend Them your Eyes, the Rabble not your Ear. And what would the mad Rabble have? Let's try: And who would ask, but one as mad as I? Can the turbulent Wind tell why it blows? Or tumbling Ocean why it Ebbs and Flows? The senseless Rabble's but that Dust which flies With every puff of wind into dour eyes: It makes you pur-blind, and defiles your Shoes; Rather to piss on't than to court it choose. I'll dare the Sun, which hath surveyed the Earth Ever since Eve gave Cain and Abel Birth; In all his Travels, if he can declare A People Franchis'd as the English are? All others Birth-Right Bondage is; but We Surfeit with Cates, and glut with Liberty. If heaven should bid a Subject to implore What 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 show 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 Subject Sings, We have one Emperour, and a Million Kings. Celestial Prince, descended from above, To th● KIN● With Goodness, and the Wisdom of great Jove; wandering the Doves with thy seraphic 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 enthrall, You were the Saviour that redeemed us all, And raised miraculously from their Graves, Three Soul-sunk Nations that were Slaves to Slaves; Mean Thanks do mighty favours quiter disgrace, But dull Ingratitude becomes the base: How Justly mayst thou let thy Thunder fly? Both giants and Pigmies doomed to die. What, will they War with Jove? in vain, in vain; Whom th' Gods have crowned, in spite 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 impoverished Muses humble Prayer. She lifts no Phaetontick Palm on high; Lo, her request is veiled with modesty; Thou that art goodness Essence, Thou that keeps Clemency waking that she never sleeps; Look on the errors of Mortality, With the Kind Aspect of your God-like Eye. Though they have sinned( 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. And Thou Great Hero of loud Fames first rate ● E ( Still partner of your Royal Brothers Fate) Who baffle Mischief, and her Dart despise, And stand the firmer, for her Batteries; Whilst Envy toils her self quiter out of breath, You undisturbed 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 on You they throw, Still You the Taller, and more Lovely grow; Can walk the Fiery Furnace, and no Hair singed, no smell of Fire, no impair: Fond men! To hope they can destroy whom Jove Preserves by Wonders and peculiar Love: Never before Presumptive Heir did sure, Worse Wrongs from Most Presumptive Men endure. Well may they droop their Heads, and Necks incline, As Tulips Frost-bit with a Northern wind; To Prudence still and Piety you're Just, And will forgive, whom none will wish to trust. and ● D●. You of the Constellation that maintain Your Starry Glories from Apostate slain; You whose chast Loyaly for ever streamed To th' Royal Lamp of Honour whence You beam'd, You shall for ever share the Muses Praise, Whilst Helicon hath Drops, Apollo Bays. ●he ●RY Come Brothers of the Minor Stars, that are No wandring Planets, but fixed in Your Sphere; You that have vowed for to be so True To Charles, that to yourselves you be so too; ( And sure I am your Oath will not be broken, You'l bow to Destiny, before the Yoke) We must not praise nor thank ourselves, 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. And You Brave Citizens, so Rich and wise, To the Comm● Counce● Co●●t● Alderm● ( The Boons of Heavens, due to Loyalties) Heaven marks them who from Allegiance stray, ( With Children, Wits, or Fortunes quiter awry.) You that hold th' reins, kerb the head strong Jaws Of Asses kicked 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 Towns-men Prince, like him they now enjoy. But You that are now of th'new Livery, Livery m●n. And Old leaven, look for no Thanks from me; Keep to your Gods; On damned Bradshaw call, Implore the shades of Ireton and Noll; To come improved from Hell, and be so good To set cracked men with Plunder up, and blood; 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 overgrown with Beasts of Rapine, be tied to destroy the common Enemy, And bound by Char●er 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 Pens: 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 country) 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; What would the good wives have? Forbear slaughter! Then quoth the Amazons, we'l keep our Charter; And thus pleads first a Mouse-trap makers Wife; Before we'l loose our Honour, we'l loose Life; Honour than Food or Rayment's prized more high; For It we'l live, and for It we will die farewell Charter, farewell Gentility. Next comes a bounce Butchers Wife i'th' Van, With a Cow-killing Pole-ax in her Hand, D'y ' think we'l loose our Charter? And be styled Fro, 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 Ploud( besides a Tree-mans 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 spoken a Chandlers Wife with Ale-stuft-Lungs, As big as Tun, foaming at all her Eungs; D'ye think I'll 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 double Drink place to Feeling so give? 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 farewell Charter, farewell 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, Was every touch of Modesty and Grace, Hearing their Grievances, ventured the Crowd, And thus she spake, and thus their Ears they bowed; ' 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, Was granted to us in the days of Tore, And many an odd thing was in't; 'twas done When th' Land with Popery was over-run, And now by Law 'tis so repugnant found, That th' Law itself is in that Charter drowned; 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 goose In London shall have Two Ganders a piece; 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; cried, Damn th'old-Charter, and God save the KING. FINIS.