Politics & government > Prince Butler's tale

This humour stringely thus Prevailing,
Set all the poorer ſort a railing,
Or elſe with grief their Caſe bewailing.
The richer feeing what was doing,
And how the Nation ran to ruin,
To King in Council did complain,
In time of Charles the Second's Reign,
On which were ſeveral Lords appointed,
By him who was the Lords Anointed,
To hear the Caſe, and ſad Complainings,
Of thoſe that Then were for Reſt rainings;
Who plainly did their Lordſhips tell,
What miſchiefs to our Trade befel;
How both our Men and Bullion went
To work in India, and be ſpent
In needleſs Toys, and gawdy Dreſſes,
Tot Ladies,, Madams, Trulls, and Miſſes.

The Cafe thus heard, they were inclin'd
Some proper Remedy to find;
And ſomething was in order doing,
To put a ſtop to further ruin,
But by the Craft of great Soliah,
Who all the Hoſt ſtood in defy-a.
There is this ſtory paſſing Current,
That ſay 'twas he that ſtopt this torrent,
By pouring Gold in plenteous ſhowers,
In Ladies Laps, who bore great Powers,
Which ſtrangely alter'd all their Meaſures,
Such charms there are in hidden Treaſures.
Thus Barrocading all Complaints,
Drove Jehu-like,without Reſtraints
Fill'd Town and Country ſoon ſo full,
As ruin'd much, our Trade in Wooll :
And ſuch great Stocks of Wooll and Cloths,
Were hoarded up, and eat by Moths,
Made Clothiers all, and Growers grumble,
When Cloathes and Fleeces o'r they tumbl'd.
And further miſehiefs to prevent,
Complaint was made in Parliament:
And 'cauſe the Wooll, ſo near affected,
This Salvo for't was then projected,
Tha ſince the living would not bear it,
They ſhould, when dead, be forc'd to wear it ;
This help'd in part, but the Stand Ill
Remains upon the Kingdom ſtill.
Yet this our Ladies ſo offended,
As all our Female Sex contended,
And fain would had this Act rejected,
But then their Councels were neglected,
And Time has reconcil'd it ſo,
To this Wooll Act they're now no Foe:
So that from Ladies great, to Skullion,
All buried lay in our own Woollen.

And happy thrice would England be,
If, while they Living, we could fee,
Our noble Ladies but beginning,
To wear our Wooll of fineſt Spinning,
Or in ſuch Silks our Workmen make,
For which our Merchants Cloth do take,
Which ſoon wou'd bring them in ſuch faſhion,
As they'd be worn throughout this Nation,
By all Degrees, and Sex, and Ages,
From higheſt Peers to loweſt Pages;
Nor would the meaneſt Trull or Beſſes,
Delight to wear theſe Indian Dreſſes,
Which certainly wou'd Profit bring,
To them, their Tenants, and our King,
And Heavn's Bleſſings in the bargain,
Becauſe they'll keep our Foor from ſtarving,
For they wou'd ſoon be then employ'd,
Our Money too at home wou'd 'bide,
And happy then both great and ſmall,
With Mirth in Parlour, and in Hall,
When thus, with Plenty, Beards wagg all,

      EPILOGUE.

AND now this Tale, thus far being ended,
Methinks I ſee ſome Folks offended,
And gainſt this Dogrel Poet rail,
Becauſe have told ſo plain a Tale,
And New and Old Stock, Jobbing Throng,
Crying it down, be't right or wrong ;
But if they do, and away fling 'em,
'Tis a great Sign, they're Truths that ſting 'em.
But let them ſpend their Lungs, and hollow,
Such bluſtring Sparks be needs not value,
Since all his aim, and his deſigns,
Are to beat down their Indian Blinds,
That all true English ment may ſee,
What cauſe, their real Miſery,
That ſo they may prevent their ruin,
And ſave this Nation from undoing :
But if they ſtill will ſhut their eyes,
And demonſtrations plain deſpiſe;
And if bis Tale ſhall be rejected,
Or if this Cauſe be ſtill neglected,
He only this has more, to ſay,
That he can ſhift as well as they,
And that he writ this, not for Pay.

LONDON : Printed, and are to be ſold by A Baldwin
in Warwick-Lane. 1699.