A SPEECH TO THE Lord General Monck AT SKINNER SHALL April the fourth, 1660.  A Countryman-Cornish strives to come in, and is Obstructed by one of the Company. Cornish-man. 
I tell thee, i will come in, and zee the gay folk; ch'ave zome loquent pistol to speak.  Fidler. 
Thou a Speech!  Cornish-man. 
A zimple Trifle, better than your Zongs and Zonnets, Ihill zay that, and a vart vort. Iche beseech your lordship's Pardon; this zame Vellow is zawcy, Iche a tolden so zundry times.  

And vor Iche know by sperience.  
Vine folk will a vine things and zense,  
Ihill zee what Iche can do▪  
Chintend to let your Honour know,  
Bum Vaith, Iche will no further go,  
Ihill now speak English too.   

MY Lord, I have received Command from those  
I this day do attend upon, to close  
Your Stomach with a Welcome. 
Ed. 3. R. 1. H. 4. H 5. H. 6. Ed. 4 &c. made free of the Company.  'Thas been long  
Since that this Hall was graced with such a throng  
Kings, heretofore, have not disdained to be  
Made Free of this Ancient Fraternity:  
‛ Tell that this most Unhappy Nation did  
Break forth into a Flame, from Fire long hid,  
Kindled by th' sulphurous breath of furious John's,  
And Subjects became desperate Phaeton's:  
Whose dire Prodigious Rage, like Pelops brood,  
Thirsted and hunted after Royal blood.  
The people's Faith abused, who only lent  
Their Aid to j●yn the King and Parliament:  
In stead of which, the Miscreants subtlety  
Laid violent hands on Sacred Majesty, 
I●ea●y at the Isle of Wight   
Even when it came to the* Concluding point,  
They did our Hope and Happiness disjoint.  
" We find our Fundamentals then begin  
" To stagger, when King-killing's thought no Sin,  
Nor was their Monstrous Malice satisfied  
When as the people's Martyr, Great Charles, died;  
From whence (unto their horror) this Truth springs,  
" The worst of Subjects killed the best of Kings.  
Thus were we drawn near to destruction  
By that White Devil, feigned Devotion;  
That Loyalty was held Malignity,  
And pure Religion counted heresy;  
And Parliaments, we did so highly prize,  
Made but the subject for their Mockeries.  
So that this forlorn hapless Continent,  
Hath been the Sepulchre of Government:  
Since Charles he suffered, no man durst complain,  
But held it mercy that he might be slain.  
It was a riddance from that Slavery  
Attended on a tyrant's Cruelty;  
Whose Usurpations left us with the Wind,  
Though (like the Snail) h'as left a slime behind.  
Kings were held Nursing Fathers: Great Sir, then  
Grant us to see those Blessings once again.  
Next unto God, the Power is in your hand,  
To make this Fertile, or a Barren Land.  
The old Arcadians, that did mourn all Night  
At the Suns-setting, and despaired of Light,  
Were next day comforted, when in his Sphere  
He on his splendid Chariot did appear:  
So Our great Loss admits of a Repair,  
In the succeeding hopes of Charles his Heir;  
That all men cry, and all Cries meet in one,  
For th'Pious Father's godlike Patient Son.   Spoken by Mr. W. Bard.  

London, Printed for John Towers 1660.