THE HUMBLE PETITION OF THE WRETCHED, And most contemptible, the poor Commons of England,  
To the blessed ELIZABETH of famous memory.  
Also a most gracious Answer, with a Divine Admonition and Prophetical Conclusion.  
LONDON, Ptinted for E. P. and E. B. July 23. 1642.   

TO THE BLESSED St. ELIZABETH OF FAMOUS MEMORY; The humble Petitions of the wretched and most contemptible, the poor Commonöns of England.  
IF Saints in Heaven can either see or hear  
Or help poor mortals, O then lend an ear;  
Look down blest Saint, O hear, O hear us now,  
Whose humble hearts, low as our knees do bow:  
Look on our sufferings, think but on our wrongs,  
That hardly can be told with mortal tongues;  
Oh be not now less gracious than of old,  
When each distressed vassal might be bold  
Into thine open hand to put his grief,  
And timely thence receive a fair relief,  
Be not less good, less gracious than before,  
In heaven the supplications of the poor  
Are heard as soon as suits of greatest Kings:  
If our Petitions then blessed Saint want wings  
To mount them to the Judge of Judge's Throne,  
O help then blessed Sovereign with thine own,  
Carry our just complaints, since just they are,  
And make a tender of them at the Bar,  
Where no corruption, no friend, no fraud, no bribe,  
No griping Lawyer, no avaricious Scribe,  
No favourite, no parasite, no minion  
Can either lead or alter the opinion:  
Of that great Chancellor there, O lay them down  
And merit praise on earth, in heaven renown.  
So intricate is this, our wretched story,  
Where to begin deserver of all glory.  
Heaven knows, We do not know, nay which is worst;  
Thy once blessed Subjects been so often cursed  
For offering up petitions of this kind,  
That we even tremble till we call to mind  
Thy wont goodness, that O that doth cheer us,  
That only gives us hope, that thou wilt hear us,  
When heaven was pleased great Queen to take thee hence,  
And make us wretched for our great offence.  
This sinful land, O then began our fears,  
And had we then this Kingdom drowned in tears,  
And in those floods conveyed our souls to heaven,  
To wait on thine, we had not then been driven,  
To call and cry thee from thy fellow Saints,  
To hear and pity these our just complaints,  
O pardon, but such is our gross commission,  
And deign to further this our poor Petition,  
And we will make the name of blessed Eliza,  
Equal the Aves of the great Maria:  
No snuffling Rascal through his hornpipe nose,  
Shall tell thy story in his ill tuned prose;  
Nor show thy Statue to each penny groom,  
The monument we'll raise, shall make proud Rome  
On pilgrimage to come, and at thy shrine  
Offer their gifts, as to a thing divine,  
And on an altar, framed of richest stones,  
we'll daily tender tears, and sighs, and groans  
Eternally shall sleep, and long tongued same  
Forget to speak, dare we forget her name?  
Read blessed soul, O read ●●●d believe us,  
And give it to his hands that can relieve us.  
Finis Petitions ad Reginam.   

To the high and mightiest, most Just, and yet most merciful, the great Chancellor of Heaven, and chiefest Judge of all the Earth.  
IF bleeding hearts, detected souls want grace,  
Thou all-disposer, turn not bacl thy face  
From thy suppliants, thrice seven sons have worn  
Their summer suits, since we began to mourn;  
Egypt's ten plagues we have endured twice told,  
Since blessed Eliza was with Saints inrouled;  
Thy messengers of wrath their walls power  
Each day upon our heads, nay every hour  
Plagues beget plagues and fearful vengeance grows  
As if there were no end set to our woes:  
Have our great sins raised up such a cloud,  
'Twixt us and heaven, as cries, though ne'er so loud,  
Can get no entrance to thy mercy seat;  
Are our iniquities good God so great,  
So infinite, as neither greatness, nor tears  
Can get a passage, remember but the years  
Of our afflictions, then forget we crave,  
Our sins, and bury them in deepest grave  
Of dark oblivion, hid them in the side  
Of our Redeem, O let them be tied  
In chains that they may never rise again,  
Let us no longer sue, and beg in vain,  
Let this our supplication, this our plaint,  
Tendered by our blessed Sovereign now thy Saint  
At last find grace; waste not enough we pray  
That at the first thou took'st that Queen away,  
Wa● not that done, that lamb of innocence  
Sufficient sacrifice for our offence.  
O no, our sins outlive her, and our crimes  
Did threaten to outlive the last of times,  
Thou didst remove her that he might not see  
The sad beginning of our misery:  
Then like the showers of hailstones fell the darts  
Of angry death, how many thousand hearts  
Were wounded in one year, how many bled  
And wished to die, since that they loved was dead,  
Mothers left childless, children quite bereft  
Of careful parents, nay there was not left  
A pair of friends to comfort one another,  
Who wanted not a Sister, who a Brother?  
Where was the husband, where the wife could say  
We shall not be divorced this night, this day,  
Death so his power and large commission showed,  
That men on earth like corn on ground lay strewed  
The sad remembrance of this still remains  
Next thy stretched hand of vengeance bound in chains,  
The fruitful fields, both birds, beasts, plants, fruits, trees,  
Did famish, faint, droop, die, whither and freeze,  
So nothing issued from the barren earth,  
But that lean monster, pale and thinfaced death;  
Next inundations risen, such as before,  
Since Noah's flood, never topped our british shore,  
Where men and beasts alike engraved their bones  
Under moist waves, in stead of marble stones,  
How often hath the Sun withdrawn his light  
And turned our day into the shape of night.  
Had Egypt greater darkness than had we,  
When clearest eyes at midnight could not see  
Unwholesome nights, strange fogs, rumours of wars,  
Evil portending Comets, Blazing Stars,  
Prodigious births, and most unnatural seasons,  
Spurning Philosophers beyond their reasons,  
Frighting the poor, the rich likewise exhorting  
From their soft beds whereon they lay a snorting:  
Heaven seemed in combustion, the sky in arms  
The Spheres beat Drums, the Orbs did sound Alarms.  
The air did often bloody colours spread,  
And all to Rouse us from the blown up bed,  
Of base security, yet nought could fright us,  
Till heaven had robbed us of what did most delight us.  
Henry our Joy, Henry whose every limb,  
Threatened to conquer death, and not death him,  
In whom great Britain set up her last rest,  
Henry our pride, ever Henry the blessed,  
Resolving, losing him, to play no more,  
But live for ever wretched, ever poor,  
Who had not in that one an ample share,  
What Subject had not rather lost his heir,  
What tender mother did not wish that Dart  
Had glanced from him, and pierced his darlings heart:  
All that were virtuous, all that lived good  
Turned their eyes rivers into Seas of blood.  
The Egyptian waters, bitter were, but know,  
This touched the heart that did not so:  
O pardon heaven, all plagues that went before  
Have left themselves in this, and never more  
To be remembered, this, O this alone,  
Might well have made us weep ourselves to stone.  
The spawn of Pharaoh, could their bloods be prized  
All the first borne that so were sacrificed,  
All that base Fry, compared to our Henry  
Deserve no mentioning, no thoutht, no memory:  
Lustful Sodom, such hath thy mercy been,  
Although she did abound in crying sin  
Can not take fire until they were removed,  
That thou in mercy, like in goodness loved,  
And thy anointed she may save this City  
Before it was destroyed, such was thy pity,  
Such was thy goodness: Ah is there yet full ten,  
Is there yet good God a number yet of men,  
Whose innocence may slake thy kindled ire,  
And save this Sodom Britain from the fire  
Of thy just anger, is there yet a soul  
Whose virtue hath but power to control  
Thy heaved up hand of Justice if there be,  
For his or their sake, rouse thy clemency,  
Awake thy mercy, let thy Justice slumber,  
And save the greater by the lester number;  
For his or her sake, we do humbly pray  
Respite of time, give us a longer day.  
And then enabled by thy grace and favour,  
we'll purchase pardon by our good behaviour:  
Plague, famine, darkness, inundations  
We have endured, fear of innovations  
With expectation of the worst can f●llow,  
Daily torment us that we hourly swallow  
Our very spittle, even with fear and horror;  
We might sl●epe in fear, awake in terror,  
Nor are we all this while from vermin free,  
there's Caterpillars hangs on every tree,  
Lousy projectors, monopoly-mongers,  
A crew of upstart Rascals, whose sharp hangers  
Can ne'er be satisfied, a sort of slaves,  
More greedy fare, than either whores or graves,  
A crew of upstart parasites, that rise,  
And do more mischief than the Egyptian slies:  
Cankers in gardens, and in our houses swarm,  
One drinks a Manor, another eats a Farm,  
This with a Lordship warms his lusting whore,  
This by the fall of Justice doth procure  
A Tenement or two, which being got  
By violence, he drowns it in a pot,  
They enter Cities, Corporations,  
Work not, but live by occupations,  
They have no trade, and yet no trade is free  
From paying them a tax a sine, a fee.  
Egypt did Grasshoppers bring forth, and yield,  
That eat the fruit and corn of every field,  
And we have Skip-Jacke Courtiers I dare say,  
That devour fare more in one poor day,  
Then they in Pharaohs age could e'er have done,  
They bounded were, prayed but from Sun to Sun:  
But these for three apprenticeships, have eat  
The fruit of all our labours, all our meat;  
Have we no Frogs? Oh yes in every ditch,  
Devouring the poor, impo verishing the rich,  
Busy Intelligencers, base informers,  
Like Toads and Frogs, lie croaking in all corners,  
Promoting Rascals, whose venomous tongues  
Have done thy suppliants infinite wrongs:  
Where they desire to enter, there's no fence,  
No ancient Title, no inheritance  
Can serve for plea, they wresh the Law,  
Keep Magistrates and Officers in awe.  
They pluck the balance from fair Justice first.  
And make her ministers do what they list:  
There is no equity, no law, no right,  
All causes go by favour, or by might.  
Oh God of mercy, what more can be said,  
Justice is bought and sold, become a trade,  
honour's confened on base unworthy grooms,  
And Clowns for coin may perch in highest rooms.  
Job he had many scalds, but none so bad  
As we these one and twenty years have ●●a●●.  
Egypt had Botches, Murrians, sores that sinarted,  
But yet they lasted not but soon departed.  
Half forty years in this  Wilderness  
We now have traveled, and yet there's no redress.  
Bowman and Fowler, Ringwood and his mate  
Compared to us, are in a better state.  
They can be heard, 'tis they can be rewarded,  
When we are slighted, cursed and unregarded;  
Is there a people, (heaven) fallen a degree  
Below the condition of a dog but we?  
Was there a nation in this universe  
More daring, once, more stout, more bold more fierce,  
And is there now upon the world's broad face  
Any that can be reckoned half so base?  
Is there a people so scorned, so much despised,  
So laughed at, trod on, and so vassalised?  
Where is our ancient Nobility become?  
Alas they are suppressed, and in their room  
Like proud usurping Lucifers, there si●s  
A sort of upstart, fawning parasites;  
Where is the gentry? all oppressed, disgraced,  
And Errand Knights, above them now are placed,  
Fiddlers and fools, with dancers and with rhymers  
Are now in England here the greatest climbers;  
We had a Parliament, a cure for sores,  
A Magna Charta, all's cast out of doors;  
The bold and hardy Britain's conquered are  
Without a Drum, a Sword, or sound of war:  
If without cause, just heaven we do complain,  
Then send our supplications bacl again;  
Much more we could say, much more we could speak,  
But with the thought of this, our hearts even break.  
As humbly then, as we began we crave  
A gracious Answer: O be pleased to save  
The remnant of thy flock, and turn thy face,  
And let us once more taste thy saving grace;  
Forsake us not for ever Lord, but give  
New life to those, that now desire to live.  
Deo finis petitionis.   

A most gracious answer, procured by the blessed Saint Elizabeth, with a divine admonition and Prophetical conclusion.  
YOur bold Petitions mortals I have seen,  
And find them full of passions, full of spleen,  
Prayers that enter heaven, and gain a hearing  
Are winged with charity, here's no appearing  
With supplications stuffed with Rue or Gall,  
I do confess poor souls, the truth of all,  
And wish a period to your miseries,  
But first your infinite iniquities  
Must have an end; alas you must begin  
To love fair virtue, as you have done sin,  
You must redeem the time that's lost, and know,  
As heaven hath ever been to vengeance slow,  
So by degrees is grace and mercy won:  
Eyes that are foul by gazing on the Sun  
Increase their pain, if you will mercy gain  
From unjust actions, you must first refrain,  
How dares an unjust servant once require  
Of his just master, either grace, or hire.  
You must off with the shoes wherewith you trod  
The ways of sin, ere you discourse with God;  
Give me but ground for commendations,  
Encourage me, and then your supplications  
I shall deliver, I left you rich 'tis true,  
But proud withal, you fear none, all fear you,  
You were so fare from fear, that you denied  
To pay him fear that gave you cause of pride,  
You must be humble, he ever punished yet  
All kind of rankness with an opposite:  
He that will surfeit 'ere he gain his health,  
Must strangely fast; had you still sat in wealth,  
You never would have bowed your stubborn knee  
Either to God, to Saint in Heaven, nor me.  
I will not grieve your troubled soul too much  
Yet gently your ingratitude I'll touch,  
And that the better you may know your errors  
I'll bring into your memory all favours  
By you received, ungratefully forgotten  
Long time before the flesh I wore was rotten:  
It is no ostentation to relate  
Courtesies done to such as are ungrate,  
I found you like a hunted scattered flock,  
Your very souls beating against the rock  
Of ignorance and superstition,  
Just in the high way of the soul's perdition  
I played the shepherd, and the Pilate too,  
And yet no Lamb, no Fleece more than my due  
Was e'er exacted from the common store,  
Where all alike were rich, alike were poor,  
For thine and mine: and mine and thine are things  
Not for to be, twixt Subjects and their Kings:  
Princes like the Sun should from the floods exhale  
The wealth they raise therein, and let it fall  
In every place, as they have cause a share,  
And not consume it, like the wanton heir,  
they're full Exchequers must like Conduits be,  
Open to all, to rich and poor, like free.  
And subjects should like fields be full of Springs,  
And naturally should fall towards their Kings,  
The commonwealth should always be in motion,  
Seas fall to brooks, and brooks should to the Ocean,  
Such royal and such loyal community  
Keep Kings and subjects still in unity.  
I cannot say I grieve, this place is free  
From passion, as from all iniquity;  
But yet I muse since Scotland's to it joined,  
England's Exchequer should be no better coined,  
Sure there's false play. I fear the younger brother  
Is grown too wise, too crafty for the other;  
It is an ill made marriage where the bride  
Spends all, before the husband can provide,  
I did maintain, fare be vain glory hence,  
A well Rig'd Navy, for your own defence,  
A royal Fleet, that like a Brazen brickwall  
Circled the Land, the Armies were not small,  
The Garrisons and Forts I did uphold,  
Kept you like sheep in peace within your fold.  
What well deserving Soldier went away  
Without reward, much less without his pay:  
To neighbour States in amity we lent  
Money and men, what servant ever went  
Without his hire, what pension was denied  
From the first hour, until the hour I died:  
In brief I seldom borrowed, oft did lend,  
Yet left enough to give, enough to spend;  
How comes it then, that neither Fleet nor Fort,  
Money nor Garrison, nor House nor Court,  
Wages nor debts, nothing repaid or paid,  
Nought purchased, nought lent, nought built, wrought, played,  
And yet there's nought remains, nought to be found,  
All is not perfect sure, all is not sound.  
I no less muse to see the woods cut down  
The ancient woods, revenues of the Crown  
Disposed of so to favourite or friend,  
That should hereditarily descend  
From King to King, as doth the dyadem,  
The Lands of the Crown, are the Crowns chiefest Gem;  
Customs, subsidies, sins and accidents,  
Nought is substantial but the annual Rents;  
There are deservers sure that service do,  
That would not be made known to heaven nor you,  
Princes are gods on earth, and subjects eyes  
Upon their actions should not stand as spies,  
It is dangerous and ungodly thing  
To pry into the Chamber of a King.  
The ark of State is sanctified, and must  
Be only touched by them are put in trust,  
But you expect an answer to your petition?  
Then know poor souls, 'tis given me in commission  
From heavens great King, to tell you all that's past  
To what's to come, is but a spark, a blast,  
Your sorrows yet alas, like women's throws  
Do come and go, but there will follow blows,  
Ere England will be delivered, it will make  
Your very entrails bleed, your souls to quake,  
The time shall come when bravest minds shall mourn  
And children wish they never had been borne.  
The Sword shall eat, what plagues have overslipt  
And fier consume what famine hath not nipped;  
The Gospel sound shall lose his glorious light,  
And ignorance as black as darkest night,  
Shall spread her sable wings about our Isle,  
And Babylon's great Whore once more defile  
Albion's white cliff, the Israelites shall double  
The brick they made, yet be allowed no stubble.  
The Egyptian with an Hebrew shall contend,  
And the Hebrew want a Moses to his friend.  
There is an execrable sin lies hid,  
Such a thing as modesty doth forbid.  
My Sex to mine, till that he brought to light,  
And Acan punished, look to be put to fight.  
Before the men of Ahi you shall not stand,  
Nor shall ought prosper that you take in hand;  
The Levite from his wife shall be divorced,  
And every poor man's virgin shall be forced:  
Vriah shall be murdered for his wife,  
And Naball sleep in danger of his life.  
You lusted for a King, heaven's King relieve you  
And grant you pardon, as I here forgive you.  
You took a surfeit of my happy reign,  
And paid my well deserving with disdain;  
But Oh you cast not me away, 'twas not I  
You slighted, 'twas the Lord of hosts most high,  
And therefore you shall call and cry in vain,  
Bootless you shall lament, bootless complain;  
From forth the North the Plague is come at last,  
The Lion is roused from's Den, th●t shall lay waste  
Your towns and cities, who stands up alas  
To stop the gap, where such his wrath shall pass,  
England's disease is desperate, and 'tis decreed  
That e'er she can recover, she must bleed,  
Hark, hark, heaven's trumpet summons me away,  
Now my commission's ended, I must not stay:  
Farewell poor souls, go pray, repent and fast,  
The deaf and unjust Judge is won at last  
By importunity, much more is he  
That is inclined and prone to clemency.  
I shall attend your prayers every hour,  
And to the utmost will extend my power  
With him, that one, that can and may relieve you,  
there's hope of pardon if he do reprieve you.  
Grieve for what's passed with resolution  
To mend your lives, defer not th' execution;  
Then to the horns of th' Altar timely fly,  
Timely repent lest you untimely die;  
How wretched is the state you all are in,  
That sleep secure in unrepented sin,  
When not the greatest King on earth can say  
That we shall live until the break of day,  
No Saints in heaven, or blessed Angels know  
Whether the last and dreadful trump shall blow  
To judgement of the living and the dead,  
Before these words I speak be uttered;  
Awake, O watch, O weep, repent and pray,  
And have in mind the last and dreadful day.  
FINIS.