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 AdÂditional Answer to the
French-Mens Flouts.
WElcome Brave news, the best that ever came,
Since
Charles our Sov'raign crost the
English Main;
Doubtless our freedom now draws near at hand;
These Vermine will be thrust out of Our land,
And for the future stopt, with all their cheats,
Neither shifts nor shoes shall come within our street.
Somerset-house,
the French Embassadors.The Courts no more a Market-Place will be,
From Law and Justice for to set them free:
Which if assur'd would cause such resolution,
That some would work our enemies confusion,
They quick shall see the difference that alas is,
Betwixt a King of Men and one of Asses.
Milk-sops remember
Cressie Agin 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 onely time enough to meet um,
Begar Mounsieurs would doublesly beshit them
To the King.
Dread Sir, we do not Court you with a fable,
We'l find ten thousand fighting 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'l 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're return till that with equal fates
We have quell'd the pride of Pipins, with Hogen Mogen States,
But as for you who trade to serve our poor,
[...]o enrich yourselves, a curse lies at your door.
To all Panaticks.
Now discontented Sots, what will you do,
Bow to the Cross and Cope like neuters too!
This Cause is
Englands 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 wont come an.
Let's of our sins Repent and turn to God,
To pride and all prophaneness 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 French-mens flowts at all their Drunken Clubs.
Begar de English never be no propet,
Me tinks he serve for noting but to mock at,
We be invited here to dell, day must de roam,
And fit abroad, us starve dem wen as hoam
Day com 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 lowzy Rogues we'll wink at publick 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,
Theres few years pass, but our boys keep May-day,
Thats their last remedy they swear; be sure
Your dam'd oppression they'l not long endure.
Their bloods are up and spirits all on fire,
Wo be unto you if you feel their ire.
Rouze brethren Artists all from your dream,
Theres now no judging by things as they seem.
We'll pawn our lives, our rights are not infring'd,
You'l shortly see All their Brave Alls unhing'd.
Great Monarch (call us) call, we long to come,
Or rather go and bravely carry home
That Journeymans 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.