THE COPY OF A LETTER SENT FROM The Roaring Boys in ELYSIUM; To the two arrant Knights of the Grape, in Limbo, Alderman Abel and M. Kilvert, the two great Projectors for wine: And to the rest of the worshipful Brotherhood of that Patent.  
Brought over lately by Quartpot, an ancient servant to Bacchus, whom for a long time they had most cruelly Racked, but hope shortly to be restored to his ancient liberties.  
Whereunto is added, the Oration which Bacchus made to his subjects, in the lower World: published for the satisfaction and benefit of his subjects here.  
Brought over by the same Messenger 1641.   

A LETTER etc.  

Bacchus' into Elysium took his way,  
And to his crew proclaimed a holy day  
And taking up his Horn that held a Ton  
Of right Canary, drunked off, and begun  
To wind it so loud that Elysium  
Rang with the Noyes, and every Blade did come:  
First came the Poets, of each land, and took  
Their place in order, learned Virgil struck  
In for the first, Ben johnson cast a glout,  
And swore a mighty oath he'd pluck him out,  
And wallowing towards him, with a cup of Wine,  
He did so rattle him with Catiline,  
That had not Horace him appeased, 'tis said  
He had thrown great Sejanus at his head.   

Next to these marched a band of corpulent ghosts  
In scarlet faces furred with blue, brave hosts,  
With each his sign, and but they were so swarmy  
They might have been guest ancients o' the Army.   

Next after these in wrathful haste did puff  
A band in scarlet hose, and coats of buff,  
With bastinadoes waving with their plumes  
And stay they cried; that Rascal that presumes  
To stir a foot Dies, Damn us shall we be thus  
Abused when we do carry Bacchus with us?  
In this troop Bacchus was; and none need doubt him,  
Because they never went to th' field without him.   

Then strutted forward men of lofty gates,  
And gallant, trailing after 'em, their estates  
Like broken pikes, which they in tossing had  
Made shorter, and in handling them grew mad.   

From these, a pretty distance, sneaking followed  
Some of the Clergy, not so truly hallowed  
But that they might entreated be to take  
A small refection for their learning's sake,  
And lest they should be brought (for due contrition  
Of their faults) unto that Low-high-Commission  
They cast away their coats lest any gull  
Should find holes in 'em, cause they were so full:   

But then leped in a noble City crew  
That spent all one day what they got in two,  
Who having asked so long what do you lack  
Had lost their words, and had received a crack.   

The last that came of all these warlike Soemen  
Was a huge band of sergeants with their Yeomen,  
But a mad Poet did begin to rail  
That they would bring Mace when there was no Ale;  
And were condemned as most pernicious stinkers  
Cause in their lives they were but taplash drinkers,  
They stormed; but one of them (being a mounter  
Told them they cared not for 'em of a counter;  
At which great Bacchus laughed; and bade the sinner  
He and his fellows should go fetch up dinner.   

Neat's tongues by thousands came; but most were taken  
With a salt gamon of Westphalia baken:  
The Poets and the Soldiers flashing stood,  
And great Ben: johnson swore that it was good,  
Anchovies swom in oil; but to be brief  
Most of the Soldiers fell to powder'd-beefe  
And (as an Host was talking like a Parrot)  
One snatched his beard, and eat it for carrot:   

Bacchus drank round a health, and each one pledged it  
And after, with another cup he wedged it  
Until their brains, by their cups often chiming  
Left off their sack and forthwith fell to rhyming,  
And one amongst the rest, amidst his mirth  
Talked of the dearth of wines upon the earth,  
A sergeant that was thither late departed  
For grief, for alas they ever were kind hearted,  
Told them, that now amongst the world's great vices  
Its authors were shroud scared with their complices  
And certified 'em all, with good assurance  
Two of the greatest of them were in durance,  
At which there such a shout arose, for joy  
That on a sudden it awakened N●y;  
Who coming thither, in amongst 'em crammed  
And asked if the Shipmoney were damned,  
They answer no, but those that did w●are Satin  
And stood on Pantofles have lost their Patten,  
Whereat he laughed, and his old jests did use  
Why then, quoth he, they will be over shoes,  
Then at the board there grew a disputation  
If they should send a letter of consolation,  
Unto these two late Prisoners, 'twas agreed  
And thus with matur● judgement they proceed.    

THE SUPERSCRIPTION.  
TO him whose name (I now directed am)  
Has the first Letter of an Alderman,  
Which is A— what you please, I craved to be  
Unto that hand delivered speedily,  
Whom all do hope has hither been preserved  
To be delivered to what ' has deserved,  
And to his brother likewise I would be  
Because he hath as great a share as he.   

THE LETTER.  

MOst worthy Sirs to be what you deserve  
Our ancient loves to you cannot so swerve,  
From you, but that we joyous should be't see  
Your sudden coming to our company,  
We have good Sack here for you where, you may  
Drink a full Quart, and when you come to pay,  
Not break two shillings, but alas we know  
 swallowed Wine so long you cannot go,  
And it is said, by some who wish your pain  
You'll never stand on your own legs again.  
Indeed we stagger at it, for 'tis pity  
That two such worthy members of the City,  
Are so near gelding of so many pounds  
Of your estate, for sure it much confounds,  
U● here below; that that should be a crime  
You did t'abate the Luxury of the Time,  
For when wine is pulled down, sure youth will rage  
And then no doubt 'twill prove a drunken age.  
Indeed you in our pints of Sack did strip's  
And made our purses serve apprenticeships,  
Of seven pence to the Drawer, which yet bred  
This care and thrift to keeped unforfeited,  
When oft we would have ventured, and truly  
This smells of Cardinal Wolsye's policy.   

But Sirs we pray you in great Bacchus' name  
Be careful of yourselves, and to your name,  
Add mettle; for if you should suffer in this train  
It would be but much wine cast up again,  
And let it come, 'tis better it were out  
Then choke you, and let silly people flout,  
Yet good Physicians of the state have s●'d  
Casting of coin doth cure the pain i'th' head,  
And take my word; Empson and Dudley here  
Say such a Purge had saved their lives then cheer,  
Your drooping spirits, we speak this to confirm  
Your fortitude which since the Candelmas term,  
Hath been assaulted, and  borne it out  
Courageously, and like tall men and stout,  
Y●t one thing, as your friends, (and we could wish  
We could not lay it now within your dish,)  
It was not well done of you to undo  
So many poor men, of your own trade too.  
And yet some might deserved; for they might be  
(As we do very well know) saucy as we,  
And then (our worthy Citizen) we hope ye  
Might very well undo them by your copy,  
And make 'em free of Beggers-Hall. This may  
Be true; yet you do not hear me say,  
It is; No; we, that here do fear no score,  
Have found your Citizen's honesty heretofore,  
And will not now suspect it. 'Tis our prayers  
That we may hear sometimes of your affairs   

We heard how ready all your brethren were  
To lay their Patents down when they did hear  
O'th' Parliament, and some, in time agreed  
With those th' had injured, ere they did proceed,  
And we admire to see you so are shot  
To think your casks would hold when theirs would not.   

Your former courses, questioned now, may be  
Compared to Sack, which when at liberty,  
Stirs not; but being stopped as you are now  
It bursts the cask, as your own wine, has you.   

And one thing we'll advise you; that you feed  
As happily as you can, and sleep at need;  
For you are so much hated here by those  
That died for grief when prices of Wines risen,  
That they do swear it ever as they drink  
You shall not eat a bit? nor sleep a wink,  
When you come hither; this upon our oath  
They oft protested have against you both.   

This is All that time gives us leave to write  
Which we conjecture is no warning slight  
And therefore think of it, and use as they  
That wish your welfare; and do lastly pray  
These Letters may be read to inform you all,  
That we below rejoice at no man's fall;  
And therefore tell those fellows that employ  
Their idle quills for to belly our joy,  
They do amiss in laying of their tricks  
On Charon's boat, and Acheron and Stixs,  
And so we bid farewell, and see you do  
Make much of Justice, she'll make much of you.   
Given at our Rendezvous in Bacchus' Palace in Elysium.   


This seaed, was strait delivered to Quartpot  
To bear away; when Bacchus with a hot,  
And fiery look gaped thrice, and gave two knocks  
Made 'em all shake and stand like senseless stocks  
Whilst with a gravity he did rehearse,  
This short Oration (as it is) in verse.   

THE ORATION.  
ANd yet, my Prudent Council, let me tell thou  
I see my bounty here doth too much swell ye,  
'tis strange that you should favour such a cause  
And men that have so deep transgressed my laws,  
As these have; and to gives 'em such kind words  
In their just punishment, their crime affords,  
No mercy; for the naked truth to tell  
I well could wish there were a whip at Abel,  
To jerk 'em, and to firk 'em, and to raise  
Their memory as they raised wine of late days,  
When like to Bakers (they the world to cousin  
Did sift wine, making fourteen pence to th'dozen,  
Which is an innovation, for their good  
To hoist up wine above the price of blood;  
For their ten pence; you know, throughout all ages  
Hath ever been, and is, the Hangman's wages.  
Consider of it: England, some of you  
Nay I myself have been abused too,  
How many of my subjects have refrained  
The Tavern, my dear temple, 'cause 'twas stained,  
With such extorsion? and were feign  
For want of two pence to go home again?  
Two pence? why I will tell you, 'tis no less  
Than half a groat, and boldly I profess,  
For two pence more, a man might fully dine  
Or purchase three parts of a pint of Wine,  
Claret I mean● white: how many here  
Now in this place have killed themselves with Beer,  
Even for this cause? Besides we well may gather  
That men oft times gave o●e, when they had rather,  
Have served me still, I speak it from my heart  
In seven pints theyare cheated of a quart,  
O injury! and ye● you wish these men  
Here, that they might revive their trade again,  
That by their cunning having wronged you too  
You then might curse 'em as the City do,  
Writ me a letter that may fully crush 'em  
And not such tickling lines as only brush 'em,  
Can you that are the Poets think upon  
This sad restraint upon your Helicon,  
And not revenge it? can you stay  
And see a weeks pay drunk out in a day,  
By superarogation? you that are  
The lusty cap and feathermen of war?  
Can you my worthy hosts fit and see those  
That make you wear odd money in your nose,  
Under your nose triumphing? can you men  
You little lecturers that have but ten,  
A year endure it; no, it shall not be  
we'll have 'em down, and now me thinks I see,  
Your mind bend too't, drink deep my subjects all  
That wine's i'faith shall with a dingdong fall.   
FINIS.