will leauâ— all the chardge to me Onely I with you to abandon glee And to my voice prepare your glowing Eares With sighes and groanes and sometimes scalding Teares And if to high my warbling notes ascendes Iudge me not bolde but zealous in my loue If that too lowe thinke that with sighâ—s for friendes My voice is hoarse yet I againe will proue The vtmost power I can for to remoue Your too forgetfull sorrowes which are drye And place them now a fresh in memory Art thou a Father or a Mother deare Hadst thou a Sonne or Daughter of thy side Were not their voice sweete musicke in thy Eare Or from their smiles could'st thou thy countnance hide Nay were they not the glories of thy pride I doubt too much thy loue on them were set That whilst thou liuest thou canst not them forget Remember well you Dames of London Cittie As for you men I le leaue you for a while Because small paines deserues the lesser pity And you are stronger sorrowes to begyle A space we will your company exile And bid you farewell till another day When time and place will giue you cause of stay And now my harts olde Widdowes and yong wiues You that in silence sit so sad and mute You that wring hands as weary of your liues Heare London speake she wil expresse your suite I know your sighes is for your tender fruite Fruite in the budde in blossome ripe and growne All deare to you now death hath made his owne And as the greedy Wolfe from harmeles Ewes Robbs them of Lambes sucking their tender Tett And in his Rigour no compassion shewes But gormondizing kils them for his meate Euen so deaths fury now is growne so great The tender Lambe will not his fury stay Both Lambes and Ewes he swalowes for his pray Witnes I caâ— poore LONDON for my part What palefac't Death within fiue Monthes hath wroughtâ— Seauen hundred Widdowes wounded to the Hart With their sweet Babes which they full dearely boughtâ— Some dead new borne some neuer forth were brought You Mothers weepe if euer you bore any To thinke how sore Death did perplexe so many Not yet content he Rageth vp and downe And secretly his heauy visage shewes In euery streete and corner of the Towne Emptyeing whole houâ—es soone whereas he goes Taking away both olde and young Gâ—d knowes The weeping Mother and the Infant cleare The louing Brother and the Sister deare Oh mothers sigh sit and shed teares a while Expell your idle pleasures thinke on woes Make not so much as countenance of a smile But with downe lookes which inward sorrow showes And now a fresh remember all your throwes Your gâ—ipes your panges your bodies pincht with paine As if this instant you did them sustaine Let not so much forgotten be of you As the least qualme that then your harts opprest No nor the smallest dolor did ensue As heauy wincks and too too little rest Remember al the sorrowes of thy breast Which in the breâ—ding bearing and deliuery You did indure with paine yet willing Againe bethinke you at that instant hower The little diffâ—râ—nce was twixt liâ—e and death When as the insant with his naked power Laboured for life to haue his rightâ—ull birth And with the sickly Mother gaspt for breath The one neâ—e dead as nigh to death the other Sore to the babe worse Trauell for the Mother If any Mother can forget this smart Her for a woman I will neuer take And out of Londons fauor may she part And all such brutish strumpets for her sake For such light hus-wiues I a wish will make That neuer any may approch my Citty Euer to want aâ—d no hart them to pittie And now â—eturne I to you honest wiues Who grieuing sits and sighing send forth Teares Which to your Husbands lyue chast and true liues And with your Children passeth forth your yeares To you that Londons Lamentations heares And are true parteners in my plaâ—nts and mones Experience shewes it by your inward groâ—es The Child new borne the Mother some deâ—le well Are all the griefes and sorrows at an end No cares and troubles yet I haue to tell Though Child be swath'de and sickly Mother mende The feeble Infant many a fret doth send Which grieues the Mother till she weepe againe To heare and see the Infant in such paine And with her seeble hand and weakely strength She playes and dâ—llyes for the babyes good And to her milke-white brestes doth lay at length The prety foole who learnes to take his foode His onely meanes to nourish life and bloud He fedâ— she paynd he drawes poore Mother yeelds Whose louing brests both shutes and prickings feeles And when the Babe doth gather strength a maine Most strongly labouring at his mothers dugge She patiently endureth all the paine Suâ—fering his lippâ—s her nipple still to lugge And with her armes most closely doth it hugge As she should say draw childe and spare not mee My brests are thine I feele no paine with thee Though that poore heart her brest doth ake full sore And inwardly sell prickings shee indures Till eyes gush teares and lippes reach kisses store Which in true mothers gladsome ioyes procures And to more aâ—dent loue them still allures That toares and kisses greet the Babe together Like to sunne-shine when it is dropping weather Ymmagin heere the pretty Lambe doth cry The Mother strong and times of Custome past Will she then leaue it to the worldes broad Eye No whilst her life and vitall powers last The Mothers loue to Child is fixte so fast She stills it straight and layes it to her brest With kisses more then VENVS could disgest And with hâ—r Armes she heaues it high and lowe As if a cradle it sweete foole lay in Doubt you not to she kisses did bestow And if it smile a fresh she doth begin On prety looke a hundred kisses winne My more then sweete vnto her Child she saith I would not for a Kingdome wish thy Death Now is her minde full straight with inward ioyâ— As if all things she thought should come to passe Vttering forth Sighes vnto her prety boy Shall Death haue thee and lay thee in the grasse I le rather goe to Earth from whence I was Fell Death goe seeke for crooked age and olde My Child is fayre vnfitting for the molde I hope to see more comfort and more ioy Of this sweete Babe which cost my life almost I pray thee grimme Death doe not him annoy Goe get thee further to some other Coast. To kill an Infant giues small cause of boast There 's many liuing that would gladly dye Take them away but spare my Childe and I. Chast LONDON wiuesâ— me thinkes I see you all Each seuerall Mother hauâ—ng greefes to shewe And with your greefes I see the Teares doe fall The onely Phisicke women can bestow Oh that I could but ease your hart sicke woe LONDON would spare no labour cost not time To wipe the
food If honest labour could this griefe withstood We would haue reckoned day and night as one To worke for meate rather then make such mone O you of LONDON now heare LONDON speake Especially you Magistrates of might And wealthy Citizens whose store is great I gently wooe you to haue good fore-sight And cast your eyes vpon the needy wight Though feare of sicknesse driue you hence as men Yet leaue your purse and feeling heart with them Remember all your riches are but lent Though in this world you beare such power and sway Remember too how soone your yeares are spent Remember eke your bodies are but clay Remember death that rangeth at this day Remember when poore Lazers woes did end The full fed glutton to hell did discend Remember rulers of each publycke charge The seuerall branches of your priuate oath Remember them that vse a conscience large And on themselues the needyes stocke bestow'th He robbes his God and his poore neighbours both He that graunts blessings to the poore that lends Giues treble cursings to those it miss-spends Remember likewise God hath plac't you heere To be as nursing fathers to the poore Let then your kindnes now to them appeare Giue much and be no niggards of your store Gâ—d in his wisedome gaue it you therefore Put foorth your tallents and gaine ten for fiue so shall you in the heauenly Cittie thriue One other boone doth mournefull LONDON craue Of you on whom her weale and woes depende When in the senate house with counsell graue You sit debating causes how to end Make some decree poore working trades to mend At least set downe some order for their good That each man may with labour earne his foode Restraine the number of deuouring drones That sucks the hunny from the laboring bees Catching by peece-meale in their bribes and lones Mens whole estates which are of poore degrees And brings them quickly on their naked knees Fower groates a month for twenty shillings lent Ys like windes tempest till the house be rent The number numbâ—rlesse of houses vaine Which beere and ale forsooth make shewe to sell Vnder which couller doth such vyces rayne My cheeke doth glowe my toongue refraines to tell Offending God and pleasing Sathan well Like wicked SODOME doth my Subburbs lye A mighty blemish to faire LONDONS eye Reforme these things you heads of LONDON Citie Punnish lewd vice let vertue spring and grow Then Gods iust wrath now hot will turne to pittie And for his children you againe doe know Your former health on you he will bestow The Plague and Pestilence wherewith he visites still To end or send are in his holy will You see the runner in his race is tript Well when he went dead ere his iourneyes done You see how soddaine beauties blase is nipt Which sought all meanes deaths danger for to shunne You heare what successe followe them that runne Most true report doth tell vs where and how The Countreys plauge exceedes the Citties now Sith then it resteth in Gods mighty power Who when he please can bid his Angell stay Or if he will destroy you in an hower A thousand yeares being with him as one day Why should you not to him for mercy pray Desiring pardon with a contryte heart And from your former wickednes depart Yf this you will incontinently doe The Lorde in pittie will his iudgments cease And many blessings will he powre on you Health and long life Honour happie peace Your Foes shal quaile your friendes shall still increase Your VViues shall flourish like a fruitfull Vine Your Children prosper and your griefes declineâ— Your Termes shall holde your men of Worth shall stay Your Marchants trafficke and great riches gaine Your Trades-mens sorrows shall bee done away True loyall seruants shall with them remaine Your Artisants shall neuer more complaine Their honest labour so shall thriue and speede That they shall giue to others that haue neede And I that long haue beene a loathed Dame shall frolicke then with myrth and inward glee Renowned Lady now must be my name O famous LONDON who is like to thee Thy God is serude by men of each degree Thy Churches filde thy Preachers burne with zeale Thy glory shines O blessed Common-weale My crowned CESAR and his Peerlesse Queene Comes now tryumphing with their princely sonne Deckâ—t with rich robes the like was neuer seene Nor neuer none more welcome to LONDON Me thinkes I see the people how they runne To get them roome this happy sight to see That this may come say all Amen with mee FINIS A godly and zealous Prayer vnto God for the surceasing of his irefull Plague and grieuous Pestilence O LORD God Almightie the Father of mercies and God of all consolation we miserable distressed creatures wounded with thâ— multitude of our grieuous sins repayre vnto thee the Phisition of our soules for Balme to cure our Sores O Lord we acknowledge and confesse our owne vnworthinesse great is thy goodnesse towards vs and great is our ingratitude towardes thee Thou hast opened the Windowes of Heauen and powred out thy blessings vpon vs as out of a store-house or treasurie thou hast giuen vs of the fatte of the earth and fed vs with the dewe of heauen peace and plentie haue beene our portion and inheritance these many yeeres the sword hath not deuoured vs hunger and famine haue not come neere vs the knowledge of thy word hath florished amongst vs And whereas other Nations sit in darkenesse and grope at Noone day being ouerwhelmed with the fogges mystes of error and supersticion wee still inioy the fruition of thy glorious Gospell and the sunne of righteousnes still shineth cleerely in our climate whose sweete influence might hauâ— caused vs had we not bene barren trees to haue brought foorth much fruite But alas in vaine hath the doctrine of thy sonne Christ Iesus dropped as the deaw in vaine haue the sweet distilling showres of thy mercies beene powred out vpon this Land For we haue not yet brought forth the first fruites of the spirit we haue had the first and the latter raine but we bring foorth the fruit of righteousnes neither first nor last our Wine is bitter as the Wine of Sodom and our grapes as the grapes of Gomorrah wee are become as the seede of the wicked corrupt children disobedient seruantes a rebellious people now that we are rich and are waxen fat we spurne with the hâ—ele like the vnruly Heifar we are sicke of long prosperity haue surfeited of peace and plentie fulnes of bread hath caused vs to â—â—n against thre we haue wearied thee with our iniquities they are too sore and heauy a burthen for vs to beare Therfore is thy visitation come amongst vs thine hand iâ— sore against vs therefore hast thâ—u armed thy selfe with displeasure like a man of warre thou hast prepared thy instruments of wrath thou hast whet thy sword thou hast bent thy bow thou hast put thine hand
where to buy Both went and sent to fetch in wares good store Not doubting sale for that and three times more And as they thought a while it did continue Doings waxt quicke and wares a pace did sell Great men of honours with their retinue Approch't my Citie minding here to dwell Houses and Chambers were let deare and well There was no corner in me did remaine But the true Owner might imploy to gaine With ICARVS I soring then aloft Bathing my limbes in heat of highest sonne Till waxen wings with melting heate were soft And had no power me from the waues to shunne Downe must I fall my glorie quite vndone He sits aboue that looketh downe below Commâ—nding powers his iustice here to show And with King DAVIDS chance doth me correct Spreading his Plague where pleaseth him to strike Because in health his lawes I did reiect Trusting in menes in man in horse and pike Boasting of riches beautie and such like Neuer redeeming of swift passing times But still committing new and vgly crimes And to the ende none dwelling in my Cittie Should thinke themselues more safer then the rest Iudging their slights and not Gods lasting pittie To be the cause why they with health are blest Gods iudgement vpon all degrees are prest From poorest begger to the wealthiest Squire From yongest infant to the oldest Syre For if the aged people hee should spare They would attribute to themselues too much And say their bloudes are drye their bones so bare The Pestilence â—heir bodies cannot touch If middle age should scape their wits are such That through their dyetâ— or by letting blood They wonne the victorie and the Plague with-stood The frolicke youths would iudge the strengths the meane Boasting of ioyntes armes legges and sinewes strong The little infant being weake and leane Wants substance for the Plague to worke vpon These are excuses but effects haue none Gods Messenger the Plague doth feare no States But strikes both lowest and the highest Mates Now for the rich which haue of golde such store Feeding their bodyes with dilicious fare Keeping great fires stirre not out of doore Vsing perfumes shunning infected ayre Shall they escape No the Plague will them not spare Because they shall not thinke their heaped treasure Can keepe them longer then it is Gods plâ—asure If rich men dye and poorer people stay They will exclame with hate and deadly ire Saying with surfects they cousume the day Wallowing in ease like dirtie Swyne in myre Iudging theiâ— scarcitie and their thinne atyre The onely Phisicke poysons to with stand But they like others haue giuen death their hand If any then should scape deathes heauie sight And claime a pardon for a longer day The zealous Preacher and the godly wight Which for themselues and sor their hearers pray Might hauâ— some fauour in this world to stay But God saith no they shâ—ll yeeld to their kinde Lest they prooue haughtiâ— which remaine behinde There are a people that doe leawdly liue Swaggering and swearing prone to euery sinne Shâ—ll those men scape No they account shall giue Of all the vices they haue wallowed in Such wretched Caytiffes made the Lord beginne To strike poore LONDONâ— with thy heauie rod For pleasing Sathan and offending God What should I say my sorrowes are so many One for a thousand I cannot repeate Within my liberties scarce any Which haue noâ— felt Gods wrath and mightie threate Either by death or sicknesse fell and great If Parents scap'de the children had their part If both remaine their seruants felt some smart The sicke bequeather of his wealth by Will Not onely dead but his executors too And eke the Scriuener that did make the Bill All in one fort-night haue payde death their due The like vnto the Landlord doth ensue Both wealthy father and succeeding heire With their poore tenants ended haue their care The ioyfull Brydegroome married as to day Sicke weake and feeble before table layde And the next morrow dead and wrap't in clay Leauing his Bride a widdow wife and mayde Which sudden change doth make her so dismayde That griefes and sorrowes doth perplexe her heart Within three dayes she takes her husbands part Much might I speake of other sad laments And fill your eares with new and seuerall woes Spending a weeke repeating discontents Which needlesse is where all both sees and knowes How many thousands death and graues inclose Making me LONDON which long time hath slowrish't Scorned of those which I both fed and nourish't And thosâ— that haue my glory most set forth Boasting that I for beautie did excell Now to approch vnto me are so loath As if my presence were a swallowing hell Within their houses they refuse to dwell And to the Countrey flye like swarmes of Bees Where wealth and credite many of them leese But most of all my sorrowing heart doth grieue For such as worke and take exceeding care And by their labour knowe not how to liue Going poore soules in garments thinne and bare The bellie hungry of flesh leane and spare Pawning and selling clothes and what they â—aue To seed their children which for foode doe craue And when poore hearts their hunger once is stayed The day insuing brings the like distresse The painefull Parents working all their trade For new supply fell famine to supprâ—sse But all in vaine their woes are nere the lesse Their worke being made abroade poore soules they trott From Morne to Noone from Noone to Night God wott Offering their wares and what they haue to sell Vnto such Trades-men as haue small pittie But they like NABALS will not with them mell Vnlesse for halfe the worth they may it buy The rich man laughs the poore in heart doth cry Shedding foorth teares in sorrow to his wife This world doth make me wearie of my life The Wife doth weepe the needy seruantes play The Children cry for foode where none is bought The Father saith I cannot sell to day One iot of worke that all of vs haue wrought In euery shoppe I haue for moâ—ey sought And can take none your hunger to sustaine Teares part from him the Children cry amaine VVhat shall we doe a counsell straight they take Meate must be had our people must not starue Wiâ—e take such thinges goe without A LOATE In HOVVNDES DITCH pawne them our great neede to serue They wil make sure if that a day we swaâ—ue All will be lost our garments are their owne Though for a pound we giue a shilling lone Besides the Bill a powling groat will cost And euery Moneth our pawne must be renew'd So was my Lease to griping vsurie lost The first beginner of my sorrowes brew'd And euer since want vpon want insew'd My bedding forfeite for a thing of nought My brasse and Pewter want of conscience bought If now our clothes which clad out naked skinne Should thus be lost as was our other good Alas poore Wife what case are we then in Such shamefast Beggers neuer asked