THE Weavers Joyful Counseland Invitation TO THE FRENCH WAR.  
As it was posted upon the Royal Exchange, Monday Feb. the 5th. from Weavers Hall, with their Additional Answer to the Frenchmen's Flouts.  
 blazon of the Weavers 'guild  


WElcome Brave news, the best that ever came,  
Since Charles our sovereign crossed the English Main;  
Doubtless our freedom now draws near at hand;  
These Vermin will be thrust out of Our land,  
And for the future stopped, with all their cheats,  
Neither shifts nor shoes shall come within our street.    


, the French Ambassadors.  
The Courts no more a Marketplace will be,  
From Law and Justice for to set them free:  
Which if assured would cause such resolution,  
That some would work our enemy's confusion,  
They quick shall see the difference that alas is,  
Betwixt a King of Men and one of Asses.  
Milksops remember Cressie Again Court,  
What Weavers Boys once did at Mardyke Fort.  
Or that at Tower-hill three Weavers did  
Though under Spanish habit to be hid.  
You'd better with your stick-frogs kill your Diet,  
Then thus for to attempt your own disquiet.  
We're ready hearts and hands, with ' states and lives,  
For Charles our King leave children all, and wives,  
No Drums need beat when Proclamation's made,  
Let Him say come, he shall not want for aid.  
We wish them forty thousand on our Land,  
And all their ships but burnt upon the strand;  
Had we but only time enough to meet 'em,  
Begar Mounsieurs would doublesly beshit them    


To the King.  
Dread Sir, we do not Court you with a fable,  
We'll find ten thousand fight Lads (all able  
Within this Land) shall be at your command,  
'Gainst half the Martial power of France dare stand.  
What we do beg when as your work is done,  
Preserve our Trade when Victors we return.    


To the Nobles.  
Assist most nobly all with might and main:  
The health to your estates is drank its plain,  
Poor towards dream of triumphs in a trice  
They counted all without their host we'll make reckon twice,  
Brave Merchants all but (some of France,  
Let contributitions free, your same advance,  
Remember what is now the Turks Great seat,  
The word of which caused that great defeat  
We'll ne'er return till that with equal fates  
We have quelled the pride of Pipins, with Hogen Mogen States,  
But as for you who trade to serve our poor,  
●o every yourselves, a curse lies at your door.    


To all panatics.  
Now discontented Sots, what will you do,  
Bow to the Cross and Cope like neuters too!  
This Cause is England's universal Good;  
And by all loyal hearts so understood.  
Most we do get by them is Pox and gulling,  
For cheating toys they ship away our bulling.  
And for religion if you like theirs better,  
Seal up your books and never more read letter,  
Thus Brethren Trades men we will lead the van,  
A curse light on All those that want come an.  
Let's of our sins Repent and turn to God,  
To pride and all profaneness prove a rod.   

Subscribed by twenty thousand weavers hearts  
Who all do vow if need there be, ti play their parts.    
Weavers hall Feb. 5. 1665.   

The Frenchman's flouts at all their Drunken Clubs.  

Begar de English never be no proper,  
Me tinks he serve for noting but to mock at,  
We be invited here to dell, day must the roam,  
And fit abroad, us starve dem wen as hoam  
Day come adain The Answer (Hold puppy say no more,  
We all resolve to what we said before,  
And all our private Interests (now) throw down  
Till we sufficiently enlarge his Crown.  
Whose grace to strangers won't subvent his Laws,  
You lousy Rogues we'll wink at public Cause  
The Proverbs good, policy passeth strength.  
Our wits, as well as swords must be of length.  
If both do fail us, mark but what we say,  
There's few years pass, but our boys keep May-day,  
That's their last remedy they swear; be sure  
Your dam'd oppression they'll not long endure.  
Their bloods are up and spirits all on fire,  
Woe be unto you if you feel their ire.  
Rouse brethren Artists all from your dream,  
There's now no judging by things as they seem.  
We'll pawn our lives, our rights are not infringed,  
You'll shortly see All their Brave Alls unhinged.  
Great Monarch (call us) call, we long to come,  
Or rather go and bravely carry home  
That Journeyman's deserved wages, what  
Sharp swords and hissing bullets burning hot.  
What we do hope, desire we did before,  
The benefit of Law and Trade. No more.   
I. S.   
Finis.  

London, Printed in the Year, MDCLXVI.