WHITE-HALLS
PETITION
TO THE
PARLIAMEN
That he may enjoy his former PRIVILEDGES.
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I Come to seek redress of my sad reproaches,
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But fear I shall not pass this croud of Hackney Coaches,
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The dangers past were I but once got in the Hall:
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Gentlemen by yer leave, by yer leave to ye all,
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I never shall pass through this vast multitude,
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Men very civil, women boldly rude:
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What Womans that: Why? shee'l abuse the Speaker,
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Sir take no notice of her, shee's some brain-sick Quaker:
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Well Ile march on, and press unto the door,
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If I can get it handed in, I need no more:
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Souldiers stand by, and let Whitehalls Conviction
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Be humbly shewd by way of just Petition,
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Mean time a Member coming by: this Paper speaking fall,
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Prefer it good Sir, he answers, Sir I shall, etc.
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Most happy House, who by your first Convention
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Of Royal Writ did swear your true intention,
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Was only to do good unto this Nation
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By Righting all by way of Reformation,
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In which the Kingdom, and the King consent,
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Strives to confirm you the only Parliament,
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In those long lookt for and most happy days
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I was the Court then only had in praise,
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And for the Honour of my place and stations
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Had in the eye of this and other Nations:
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Well known to all I was the place of Royalty,
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While true bred Subjects kept their Faith and loyalty,
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The Rays of Majesty did grace my meanest being,
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And Forreign Princes deemed me worth the seeing:
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More golden days were seen in Fourty one,
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Then ever since in your best Reformation:
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I joyed in it, sure his Highness will be great,
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And in that glory I shall be compleat,
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But thoughts and doubts arose, and Propositions
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Unlike to agree with Regal dispositions:
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No satisfaction could be given at all,
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At that same moment I began to fall,
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Yet harmless innocenc[e] doubts no mans Foy,
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Subscribes with ease, tis done, Anisi vealt l'Roy:
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Yet for all this more Justice must be had,
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By every Rebel Rout obtained, you'd think them mad,
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None could be sate, that in my compass came,
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Each Tumult put me in a fear of Flame,
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One thing yet more his Highness thought unjust,
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the Militia must be setled in whom they could trust,
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Majestick thoughts think this too high a Play,
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So modestly replies, Le Roy's advosra,
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That's cause enough for to suspect his heart,
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He is not ours, he rakes ill Counsels part,
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Lets urge him more, if he refuse this thing,
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There is no reason that he should be King.
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Poor Prince opprest! Sithes, O God, thou art most just,
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Now unto man I must commit that trust
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That to my Crown inherent was always,
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Suspicious Subjects mildly to appease;
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Take here the power by which I you defend,
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To satisfie you I no ill intend:
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I take your promise that you'l make me glorious,
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Wrest not my power to make your selves victorious:
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Since that great Grant, my Prince, and I his Palace
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Had little rest, but never any solace,
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Which though he loved me, left me here alone,
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Unto the world to utter forth my mone,
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And though as his Servant I have ever been,
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Malignancy in me could nere be seen,
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If outwardly I seemed discontent,
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I still receive you as a Parliament:
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You and your Friends I ever did respect,
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Now I implore you do not me neglect:
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Nothing I teink can be objected more,
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Since the Protector turn'd me out of th' door:
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For what I did I was constrain'd by force
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To Quarter Souldiers and Troops of Horse,
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For which I humbly submit to your Honours pleasure,
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And shall attend you at your own best leasure,
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For in my power it was not to prevent,
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for you before shewed him the President.
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Humbly I shew that that is not the grief,
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I do so earnestly seek your relief,
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Tis this I crave, for if reports be true,
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I must be sold to Ferdinand the Jew.
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Sad was the news that Times so much should vary,
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For at the word each Room looks solitary,
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That I who always lodg'd Defenders of the Faith,
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Should be a Proselyte at the last hour of my death,
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Disgrace me not by such opprobrious sail,
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Although on Kingship was my true entail,
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My splended Juster is only fit for you,
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And for Embassadors of me to take a view.
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But if of force that moneys must be rais'd,
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Sure there is other Houses by you to be ceas'd:
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The Superstitious House of Somerset I say,
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More honour is it, to make that first away:
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And many more, sold at such poor low Rates,
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That it might seem they cheated but the States
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Of half the value for which they were sold
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Some were so greedy to receive their Gold,
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Preserve me pray you for my ancient luster,
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Although your Souldiers do but only Muster,
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And quarter in my sad decaying Rooms,
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If that your Honours have decreed such dooms,
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But gladder should I be if it would be my fate,
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To be preserved for the Council of our State,
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That they may sit there by your full consent,
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And keep me in repair, although they paid no Rent.
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The Premises taken to due consideration,
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Will much redound to the honour of our Nation.
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This is the summ of all the boon I crave,
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And in requital you my prayers shall have.
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