I, being sore athirst, did go
Unto an ale-house in the row,
Meaning a penny to bestow

on strong beer;

But, 'cause I for a quart did call,
My hostess swore she'd bring me small,
Or else I should have none at all.

Thus wrong'd there,

I bade her on her licence look ;
Oh, sir, quoth she, ye are mistook,
I have a lesson without book,
most perfect.

If I my licence should observe,
And not in any point to swerve,
Both I and mine, alas! should starve,
not surfeit:

Instead of quart-pot of pewter,
I fill small jugs, and need no tutor;
I quartridge give to the geometer
most duly;

And he will see, and yet be blind,
A knave, made much of, will be kind,
If you be one, sir, tell your mind,
no truly;

No, no, quoth I, I am no knave,
No fellowship with such I have;
My name is Robin Conscience, brave,
that wander

From place to place, in hope that some
Will as a servant give me room;

But all abuse me, where I come.
with slander.

Now, when my hostess heard me tell
My name, she swore I should not dwell
With her, for I would make her sell
full measure;

She did conjure me to depart;

Hang Conscience, quoth she, give me art,
I have not got, by a penny a quart,
my treasure.

So out of doors I went with speed,
And glad she was to be thus freed
Of Conscience, that she might speed
in frothing.

To the King's Bench I needs would go,
The jailor did me backward throw:
Quoth he, for conscience here ye know
is nothing.

Through Blackman-street I went, where whores
Stood gazing, there is many doors,
There two or three bawds against me roars
most loudly;

And bade me get hence a-pace,

Or else they'd claw me by the face;
They swore they scorn'd me and all grace,
most proudly.

I walk'd into St. George's Field,
Where rooking rascals I beheld,
That all the year their hopes did build
on cheating;

They were close playing at nine pins,
I came and told them of their sins:
Then one among the rest begins
intreating,

That I would not torment them so:
I told them that I would not go:
Why then, quoth he, I'll let thee know,

we care not:

And yet we'll banish thee perforce :
Then he began to swear and curse,
And said, prate on till thou art hoarse,
and spare not.
I left them in their wickedness,
And went along in great distress,
Bewailing of my bad success,
and speed.

A wind-mill standing there hard by,
Towards the same then passed I,
But when the miller did me spy,
he cryed,

Away with Conscience I'll none such,
That smell with honesty so much,
I shall not quickly fill my hutch
by due toll;

I must, for every bushel of meal,
A peck if not three gallons steal,
Therefore with thee I will not deal,
thou true soul.

Then leaving cities, skirts and all,
Where my welcome it was but small,
I went to try what would befal

i' th' country; There thought I to be entertain'd: But I was likewise there disdain'd; A long time bootless I complain'd to th' gentry.

And yet no service could I have,
Yet, if I would have play'd the knave,
I might have had maintenance brave
among them;
Because that I was Conscience poor,
Alas! they thrust me out of door,
For Conscience, many of them swore,
Did wrong them.

Then went I to the yeomanry,
And farmers all of the country,
Desiring them most heartily
to take me;

I told them I would sell their corn
Unto the poor; but then did turn
Me out of doors, and with great scorn
forsake me;

One said, he had no use of me,
To sell his corn, for I, quoth he,
Must not be only rul'd by thee,
in selling;

If I shall Conscience entertain,
He'd make me live in grossing gain,
Here is for thee, I tell thee plain,
no dwelling.

Thus, from the rich men of the world,
Poor Conscience up and down is hurl'd,
Like angry curs at me they snarl'd,
and check'd me.

Alas! what shall I do, thought I,
Poor Robin, must I starve and die?
I, that I must, if nobody

respect me.

At last I to myself bethought,

Where I must go; and heaven brought Me to a place, where poor folks wrought most sorely,

And there they entertain'd me well
With whom I ever mean to dwell,

With them to stay, it thus befel
though poorly.

Thus people, that do labour hard,
Have Robin Conscience in regard;

For which they shall have their reward in heaven;

For all their sorrows here on earth,
They shall be filled with true mirth,
Crowns shall to them, atsecond birth,

be given.

And all those caitiffs, that deny'd
To entertain him for their guide,
When they by Conscience shall be try'd
and judged.

Then will they wish that they had us'd
Poor Conscience whom they have refus'd,
Whose company they have abus'd,
and grudged.

Thus Robin Conscience that hath had,
Amongst most men, but welcome bad,
He now hath found, to make him glad,
abiding.

'Mong honest folks that hath no lands,
But got their living with their hands,
These are the friends that to him stands,
and's guiding.

These still keep Conscience from grim death,
And ne'er gainsay whate'er he saith:
These lead their lives so here beneath,
That dying,

They may ascend from poverty,
To glory and great dignity,

Where they shall live, and never die:
while frying

In hell the wicked lie, who would

Not use true Conscience as they should:
This is but for a moral told
you in it.

He that observes may somewhat spy,
That savours of divinity,

For conscionable folks do I

AN ADDRESS

AGREED UPON AT

THE COMMITTEE FOR THE FRENCH WAR,

And read in the House of Commons, April the 19th, 1689.

'E your Majesty's most loyal subjects, the Commons of England in Parliament assembled, have taken into our most serious consideration the condition and state of this nation, in respect of France, and foreign alliances; in order to which, we have examined the mischiefs brought upon Christendom, in late years, by the French King, who, without any respect to justice, has, by fraud and force, endeavoured to subject it to an arbitrary and universal monarchy.

In prosecution of this design, so pernicious to the repose and safety of Europe, he has neglected none of those means, how indirect soever, which his ambition or avarice could suggest to him. The faith of treaties, among all princes, especially Christian princes, ever held most inviolable, has never been able to restrain him, nor the solemnest oaths to bind him, when any occasion presented itself for extending the limits of his kingdom, or oppressing those, whom his interest inclined him to qualify by the name of his enemies. Witness his haughty and groundless declaration of war against the States General of the United Provinces, in the year 1672, in which he assigned no other reason for disturbing that profound peace, which, thro' God's mercy, all Europe enjoyed at that time; but his own glory, and his resolution to punish the Dutch, for some imaginary slights and disrespects, which he would have had the world believe, they had put upon him: whereas, the true occasion of that war was nothing else but a formed design, laid down and agreed upon by that king and his accomplices, for the subversion of the liberties of Europe, and for abolishing the Commonwealth of Holland, as being too dangerous an example of liberty to the subjects of neighbouring monarchs. The zeal for Catholick religion, which was pretended by him in this and the following wars, did afterwards sufficiently appear to the world, to be no other than a cloak for his unmeasurable ambition; for, at the same time when the persecution grew hottest against the protestants of France, letters were intercepted, and published, from him to Count Teckely, to give him the greatest encouragement, and promise him the utmost assistance in the war, which, in conjunction with the Turk, he then managed against the first and greatest of all Roman Catholick princes.

Witness, also, the many open infractions of the treaties, both of Aix la Chapelle and Nimenguen, (whereof your Majesty† is the strongest

The King of Hungary, &c.

+ As King of England. See the Emperor's Letter to King James the Second, page 23.