THE CITY.  
DRaw near you factious Citizens, prepare  
To hear from me, what hideous fools you are,  
What lumps of sordid earth; in which we find  
Not any least resemblance of a mind  
Unless to baseness, and Rebellion bent,  
Against the King to aid the Parliament.  
That Parliament whose insolence will undo  
Your city's wealth, your lives and safeties too.  
Are you so stupid dull you cannot see  
How your best virtues, now are treachery:  
Apparent treason murder, and the like,  
How with unhallowed hands you strive to strike  
Him whom you should your Loyalty afford  
(Great CHARLES) the blessed anointed of the Lord;  
How you do daily contribute and pay  
Money, your truths and honours to betray.  
Bigge with fanaticke thoughts, and wild desire,  
‛ I is you that blew up the increasing fire  
Of foul Rebellion, you that only bring  
Armies into the field against your King,  
For were't not for supportment from your bags,  
That great and highest Court that only brags  
Of your vain folly, long ere this had been  
Punished for their bold sacrilegious sine  
Of actual treason, there had never come  
Upon this kingdom such a martyrdom.  
Arms had hanged up as useless, and the State  
Retained its freedom, had you kept your Plate:  
No Keinton battles had made Mothers curse,  
Made childless there the treason of your Purse,  
The public purse o'th' City, which must be  
Esteemed the cause o'th' public misery.  
No Drums had frighted silken Peace from out  
The Neighbouring Countries, nor need you about  
Your City with your guilded Musket go,  
training not for good service, but for show,  
That the whole town may see your feathers spread  
Over your hats, as the horns do o'er your Head,  
The Humble Parliament had never dared  
To have prescribed laws to their King but spared  
Their zeal in bringing Innovations and  
Distractions, o'er the butious face o'th' Land.  
They would not then have so supremely brought  
Their Votes, to bring the kingdom's peace to nought.  
Nor with so slight a value looked on him  
King Charles, and only doted on King Pim,  
Nor for authentic Doctrine have allowed  
As Law, the precepts of ingenious Stroud,  
Hambden, nor Martin, had not then looked big  
Upon their King, nor Arthur Haslerigge;  
Nor yet Kimbolton, on whom we now confer  
The stile of traitorous Earl of Manchester:  
Secured by you the patrons of the cause  
Contemned his loyalty, and the Kingdoms laws  
Nor misled Essex, had not you been, ne'er  
Had acted on this kingdom's theatre  
So many tragedies, nor Warwick sought  
To engross the naval honours, no nor thought  
Upon any action, so unjust unmeete  
As keeping from his Majesty his fleet.  
'tis you have done all this, y''ave been the head,  
The very spring, from whence this River spread  
The streams of foul Rebellion, which we knows  
At last will drowned you with it's overflow.  
You the arch traitors are, you those that stew  
The kingdom's happiness, and the aleagance du●  
To his sacred Majesty, you you that have  
Betrayed this Nations honour to the grave  
Of lasting obloquye, you that have destroyed  
The smiling wealth of th' Ci●y, and made void  
The good opinion which the King before  
Had of your loyalties, of the faith you bore  
To'th royal steam, which still has to your great  
Advantage made this City their chief seat,  
Fond and and seditious fools, do you think you be  
Wiser than all times numerous progeny,  
That have adorned your City, when did they  
Your harmless ancestors strive to give away  
Their wealth. and duty from their sovereign Lord,  
To make themselves traitors upon Record,  
When did they their Plate and coin bring in,  
To be the cause of their own running ruining,  
They never used to fright their King, nor draw  
Tumults together to affront the Law,  
No nor good houses, their Corslets slept and all  
The arms they used hung up in each man's hall,  
They did not then ennameled Muskets carry,  
To train in More fields, and at Finsbury,  
But did in comely Archery excel,  
Like honest grave Children of Adam Bell  
And Climme o'th' Clough, now each of you will be,  
More than a furious William Cloudes-●ee.  
And trace the Streets with terror as if Ven,  
With Fulk, and Manwaring, were the only men  
Whom you did owe allegiance to, as if they  
Could give you privilege to disobey.  
The royal Mandate, which does them proclaim,  
Guilty of Treason, and you of the same,  
As deeply stand impeached, and will at last  
Pay derely for't, when your vain hopes are past  
All succours, which you credit for your merit,  
will be afforded you by the help o'th' spirit,  
That is the devil you serve, for heavenly powers  
Can never Patronize such acts as yours,  
Poor basled City, but baffled by a crew  
Of men, which are as arrant fools as you,  
Surely your brains can never be so dull  
As not conceive this, which each empty Skull  
Must needs resent, how that their only aim,  
Is to create your City all on flame,  
And as the smoke and sparks up aspire,  
They'll sit and Laugh like Nero at the fire,  
Themselves have made, unless your heads be all  
Horns and no flesh, you needs must see the fall:  
That threatens you, like lightning to eschew,  
Which ruin 'twould be wisdom to renew,  
Your lost allegiance, and Repentance bring,  
As a fresh victim, to appease your King,  
For be assured who to the King's untrue,  
Must in their nature needs be false to you.   

OXFORD, Printed for William web. 1643.