A SPEECH MADE TO THE Lord General MONCK, AT Clotheworkers Hall in London The 13. of March, 1659. at which time he was there entertained by that VVorthie Companie.

NAy, then let me come too with my Addresse,
Why mayn't a Rustick promise, or professe
His good Affection t' you? Why not declare
His Wants? How many, and how great they are?
And how you may supply them? Since you may
See our Hearts mourn, although our Clothes be gray.
Great Hero of three Nations! Whose Bloud springs
From pious and from pow'rfull Grandsire Kings;
With whose Bloud-Royal you've enrich'd your veyns,
And by continu'd Policy and Pains
Have equall'd all their Glory; So that now
Three Kingless Scepters to your Feet do bow,
And court Protection, and Allyance too;
And what Great men still reach'd at stoups to you.
But you're too truly Noble to aspire
By Fraud or Force to Greatness; or t' acquire
Scepters and Crowns by Robbery, or base
And wilfull breach of Trusts, and Oaths, nor place
Your Happinesse in avished Dominion,
Whose Glory's only founded in opinion;
Attended still with danger, fear, and doubt,
And fears within, worse than all those without.
You must still watch and fear, and think, and must
Lose all Content to gratifie one Lust,
Should you invade the Throne, or aym at Pelf,
Throw down three Nations to set up your self;
Kings are but royal Slaves, and Prisoners too,
They alwaies toyl, and alwaies guarded go.
You are for making Princes, and can find
No work proportion'd to your Pow'r, and mind,
But Atlas-like to bear the World, and be
The great Restorer of the Liberty
Of three long captiv'd Kingdoms who were thrown
By others strong Delusions, and their own
Misguided zeal, to do and suffer what
Their very Souls now grieve and tremble at,
Debauch'd by those they thought would teach & rule 'um,
Who now, they find did ruine and befool 'um.
Our meanings still were honest, for alas!
We never dream't of what's since come to pass;
'Twas never our intent to violate
The setled Orders of the Church or State,
To throw down Rulers from their lawfull Seat,
Merely to make ambitious small things great,
Or to subvert the Laws; but we thought then
The Laws were good if manag'd by good men;
And so we do think still, and find it true,
Old Laws did more good, and less harm than New;
And 'twas the Plague of Countries and of Cities,
When that great-belly'd House did spawn Committees.
We fought not for Religion, for 'tis known,
Poor men have little, and some great Ones none;
Those few that love it truly, do well know,
None can take't from us, where we will or no.
Nor did we fight for Laws, nor had we need,
For if we had but Gold enough to feed
Our taking Lawyers, we had Laws enough,
Without addressing to the Sword, or Buff.
Nor yet for Liberties; for those are things
Have cost us more in Keepers, than in Kings.
Nor yet for Peace; for if we had done so,
The Souldiers would have beat us long ago;
Yet we did fight, and now we see for what,
To shufle mens Estates; those Owners that
Before these wars, could call Estates their own,
Are beaten out by others, that had none.
Both Law and Gospel overthrown together,
By those who ne're believ'd in, or lov'd either.
Our truth, our trade, our peace, our wealth, our freedom,
And our full Parliaments, that did get, and breed 'um,
Are all devour'd, and by a Monster fell,
Whom none, but you, could satisfie, or quell.
You're great, you're good, you're valiant, & you're wise,
You have Briarius hands, and Argus eyes;
You are our English Champion, you're the true
St. George for England, and for Scotland too.
And though his Storie's question'd much by some.
Where true, or false, this Age, and those to come,
Shall for the future find it so far true,
That all was but a Prophecy of you;
And all his great and high Atchievements be
Explain'd by you in this Mythologie.
Herein you've far out done him, he did fight
But with one single Dragon: but by your might
A Legion have been tam'd, and made to serve
The People, whom they meant t' undo and starve.
In this you may do higher, and make fame,
Immortalize your celebrated name,
This Ages glory, wonder of all after,
If you would free the Son, as he the Daughter.
FINIS.

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