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EBBA 32192

Huntington Library - Miscellaneous
Ballad XSLT Template
The Sence of the HOUSE, or the Opinion of Some LORDS and COMMONS,
Concerning the LONDONERS Petition for PEACE.

GIve eare, beloved Londoners,
Fie, fie, you shame us all.
Your Rising up for Peace will make
The close Committee fall:
I Wonder you should aske for that,
which they, must needs, deny,
Heres 30. swears thele have no Peace,
And bid me tell you why.

First Ile noe Peace, says Essex,
For my Chaplin says tis sinn,
To Loose 100.l. a day,
Just when my wife lies inn:
They cry, God Blesse your Excellence,
But if I loose my Place,
Thele call me Rebell Popular Asse,
And Cuckold to my Face.

Yee Citizen fooles, said Warwick,
Doe ye talke to me of Peace,
Who not onely stole His Majesties Ships,
But Robd him of his Seas;
No, no, Ile keepe the water still
And have my Ships well mand,
For I have Leasd and sold so much,
I know not where to Land.

Doe, Brother do, says Holland then,
For Peace breeds us noe quiet,
Besides my Places both are lost,
With 16. dishes Dyet;
I plaid the Judas with the King,
which makes the World detest me?
Nay should His Majesty pardon me,
A hundred would Arrest mee.

Kimbolton Says those Londoners
Deserve to loose their eares,
For now theyl all Obey the King,
Like Citizen Cavaliers:
Lets Vote the Peace a dangerous Plot,
And send them a deniall,
For if they save the Kingdome, then,
theyl give us a Legall tryall.

The Welsh men rage, quoth Stamford,
And call me villanous Goate
For I plunderd Hereford Aldermens Gowns,
To make my Besse a Coate,
Tis true the Towne did feed me well;
From which I tooke good Fleeces.
But if Peace come theyl teare both me,
And all my whores in pieces.

Fight, fight, quoth Say, now, now hold up,
Their jealosies and feares;
The worke will thrive, I Plotted it,
Above these Seventeene yeares,
Tis I that am your Engenere,
But if for Peace you Vote,
Oh then theyl make me come to church,
Or else will cut my throat.

My father Goodwin, quoth Wharton,
Calls me a silly lad
And wonders youl aske Peace of me,
Who have beene lately mad,
Ye chose me Irish Generall,
And I chose to stay here,
For should I Fight amongst the bogs,
theirs nere a Sawpit there,

These heathen Prentices, quoth Brook,
Did make my Coach man stay,
Bid me be bare, although I spake,
But 13. Bulls that day,
If Peace knock of my Learned Soull,
Then at my House youl see,
The swoard of Guy, the dunn Cows Rib,
The Asses tooth, and me.

I made the Speech quoth Roberts,
When his Excellence first began,
For which he swore by a potle of sack,
To make me a Gentleman.
But if the King get to Whithall,
Then all my Hopes are past,
I am the first Lord of my house,
And would not be the last.

COMMONS,
Keepe Silence quoth the Speaker,
But do not hold your Peace.
Lets sit and Vote and hold them toot,
For Ile do what you please:
I have but poore 6000. pounds,
besides some spoones and bowles,
Nay grant a Peace, and how shall I,
Be Master of the Roles.

Then spake five members all at once,
And for an Army crid
Last yeare say they, they rescued us,
Or else we had beene tryed.
What though you are almost undone,
Ye shall Contribute still,
We will convey our Truncks away,
And then do what you will.

My venum swels, quoth Hollis,
And that his Majesty knowes,
And I quoth Hambden fetch the Scots,
Whenc all this mischeife growes.
I am an Asse quoth Haslerig,
But yet Ime depe i th plot,
And I quoth Stroud can ly, as fast,
As master Pym can trott.

But I quoth Pym your hackney am,
And all your drudgery doe,
Have made good Speeches for myselfe,
And priviledges for you:
I sit and can looke down on men,
Whilest others bleed and fight;
I eate their Lordships meate by day,
And give it their Wives by night.

Then Vane grew black ith Face, and sweares,
Theirs none so deepe as I,
The Staffe and Signet slipt my hand,
My Sonne can tell you why.
The name of Peace men say is sweet,
But oh it makes me stinke,
For Straffords Ghost doth haunt me so,
I cannot sleepe a winke.

Were Starfford living, Mildmay said,
He wold do me none ill;
For I hid myselfe i th privy,
When th house did passe his Bill:
But oh my gold and silver thread,
That Gregory calls his owne;
Though in a Ship I made my will,
I was not borne to drowne.

You found me, quoth Sir Robert Pye,
I have bin long a knave;
And promise I should be so still,
So you my Vote should have.
And I (quoth Lawrence Whitaker,)
Agree to do so too;
And if you leave old Courtiers thus,
Theyl do as much for you.

This Peace (quoth Michaell Olsworth,
Will bring no fee to mee;
And yet my Lord hath sworne for it,
And will not follow mee.
Fie, downe with Bishops Wheeler said,
For I have Robd the Church;
Oh base, will you conclude of Peace,
And leave us in the lurch.

Who talkes of Peace, quoth Ludlow?
Hath neither Sence nor Reason;
For I nere spake i th house but once,
And then I spoke high Treason:
Your meaning was as bad as mine,
You must defend my Speech;
Or else youl make my Mouth as famd,
As was my Fathers breetch.

Ile Plunder him, (quoth Bainton)
That mentions peace to mee;
The last Bishop would not grant my Lease,
But now I have it free.
A Gunpowder Monopoly,
Quoth Eveling, raised my Father;
And if you let the Peace go on,
Theyle call me Powder Traytor.

Foh, said Sir John Hotham,
Is this a time to Treate,
When New-Castle, and Cumberland,
Mee to the Walls have beate:
Yee base obedient Citizens,
Do yee thinke to save your Lives;
My Sonne and I wil serve you all,
As I have servd five Wives.

Indeed, quoth Sir Hugh Cholmely,
Sir John, you say most true;
For I have Sold and Morgaged,
Even all my Land to you.
My Brother would have servd the KING,
But was forbidd to stay;
The King foresaw at Keinton Feild,
Sir Harry would runne away.

I went downe, (quoth Sir Stapleton)
With Musket, Pike, and Drum;
To fetch Sir Francis Wortley up,
But truely, he will not come.
Oh Lord, Sir Robert Harlowe said,
How do our foes increase;
I wonder who the Devill it was,
That first invented Peace!

Treason, treason, treason,
Sir Walter Earle cryed out;
Farr worse then blowing up the Thames,
The Dagger, or the Clout.
Damm it, said Miles Corbet,
Or wee are all confounded;
And Cavaliers will Cuckold mee,
As well as did the Round-head.

Zounds, said Henry Martin,
Weel have no Accomodation;
Dye not know, twas I that tore,
His Majesties Proclamation.
In the House I spake high treason,
Ive sold both Land and Lease;
Nay, I shall then have but three Whores,
A pox upon this Peace.

Yee see, (beloved Londoners,)
Your Peace is out of season;
For which you have the sence of th House,
And every Members Reason.
Oh do not stand for Peace then,
For trust mee if you do;
Each County of the Kingdome will,
Rise up, and do so too.


FINIS.
OXFORD.
Printed, by LEONARD LICHFIELD;
Printer to the University,
1643.

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