The Clothiers Delight: OR, The Rich Mens Joy, and the Poor Mens Sorrow. Wherein is expressed the craftiness and subtlety of many Clothiers in England, by beating down their Work-mens wages.  
Combers, Weavers, and Spinners, for little gains,  
Doth Earn their money by taking of hard pains.  
To the Tune of, jenny come tie me, &c. Packington's Pound, Or, Monk hath confounded, &c.  By T. Lanfi●re. 


With Allowance,  
Ro. L'Estrange.    
 

OF all sorts of callings that in England be,  
There is none that liveth so gallant as we;  
Our Trading maintains us as brave as a Knight,  
We live at our pleasure, and taketh delight:  
We heapeth up riches and treasure great store,  
Which we get by gripping and grinding the poor,  

And this is a way for to fill up our purse,  
Although we do get it with many a Curse.    

Throughout the whole Kingdom in Country and Town:  
There is no danger of our Trade going down,  
So long as the cumber can work with his Comb,  
And also the Weaver wove in his Lomb:  
The Tucker and Spinner that spins all the year,  
We will make them to earn their wages full dear;  

and this is the way, &c.    

Informer ages we used to give,  
So that our Work-folks like Farmers did live;  
But the times are altered, we will make them know,  
All we can for to bring them all under our Bow:  
We will make them ta work hard for sixpence a day,  
Though a shilling they deserve if they had their just pay:  

and this is the way, &c.    

And first for the Combers we will bring them down,  
From Eight-groats a score unto Half a Crown:  
I at all they murmur, and say 'tis too small,  
We bid them choose whether they will work at all.  
We'l make them believe that Trading is bad,  
We care not a pin, though they are ne'er so sad:  

and this is the way, &c.    

We'l make the poor Weavers work at a low rate,  
We'l find fault where's no fault, and so we will bait:  
If Trading grows dead we will presently show it,  
But if it grows good they shall never know it:  
We'l tell them that Cloath beyond-Sea will not go,  
We care not whether we keep clothing or no:  

and this is the way, &c.    

Then next for the Spinners we shall ensue,  
We'l make them spin three pound instead of two;  
When they bring home their work unto us, they complain  
And say that their wages will not them maintain:  
But if that an Ounce of weight th●● do lack,  
Then for to bait three pence we will not be slacken:  

and this is he way, &c.    

But if it holds weight, then their wages they crave,  
We have got no money, and what's that you'd have?  
We have Bread and Bacon, and Butter that's good,  
With Out-meal and Salt that is wholesome for food;  
We have soap and Candles whereby to give light,  
That you may work by them so long as you have sight:  

and this is the way, &c.    

We will make the Tucker and Shereman understand,  
That they with their wages shall never buy Land:  
Though heretofo●e they have been lofty and high,  
Yet now we will make them submit humbly;  
We will lighten their wages as low as may be,  
We will keep them under in every degree:  

and this is the way, &c.    

When we go to Market our work-men are glad,  
But when we come home then we do look sad,  
We sit in the corner as if our hearts did ache,  
We tell them 'tis not a penny we can take:  
We pled poverty before we have need,  
And thus we do coaks them most bravely indeed:  

and this is the way, &c.    

But if to an Ale-house they Customers be,  
Then presently with the Ale-wife we agree,  
When we come to a reckoning, then we do crave  
Two-pence on a Shilling, and that we will have;  
By such cunning ways we our treasure do get,  
For it is all Fish that doth come to our Net:  

and this is the way, &c.    

And thus we do gain all our Wealth and Estate,  
By many poor men that works early and late;  
If it were not for those that do labour full hard,  
We might go and hang ourselves without regard:  
The Combers, and Weavers, and Tuckers also,  
With the Spinners that worketh for Wages full low:  

By these peoples labours we fill up our purse, &c.    

Then hey for the Cloathing-trade, it goes on brave,  
We scorn for to toil and embroil, nor yet to slave;  
Our Work-men do work hard, but we live at ease,  
We go when we will, and come when we please:  
We hoard up our bags of silver and Gold,  
But conscience and charity with us is could:  

By poor peoples labour we fill up our purse,  
Although we do get it with many a curse.     
FINIS.  

Printed for F. coals, T. Vere, I. Wright, and I. clerk