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The Petition and Narrative · George Wither

The Petition and Narrative, Poem

The Petition, and Narrative of Geo. Wither Eſq; concerning his many grievances and long ſufferings; with a Preceding Addreſſe made to the Honourable Members of Parliament in their ſingle Capacities, to incline them to a ſpeedy conſideration of his Caſe in Parliament.

Hodie Nobis, Cras Vobis.

WE are not few that ſuffer; and that may

To morrow, be your Caſe, that's our to day

(As now the Cards are ſhuffl'd, Cut, and lay'd,

And, as the Game ſhall well, or ill be plaid.)

Give Looſers leave to ſpeak, and, me for one,

Who make at this time my Addreſſe alone,

Without your doors, within which, I, as yet

Can, for my Prayers, no admittance get.

Of ſeven times ten, to ſpend years ten and ſeven

In asking for mine own, I have been driven,

And no reſult obtained, but, inſtead

Of Fiſh, a Scorpion, and hard Stones for Bread,

Which fill'd me full of thoughts, that getting vent

Orecharge the Papers, which I would preſent.

Yet, muſe not, if my Narrative it ſtrain

To an unuſual length, and ſhall ſpeak plain:

Wide wounds, muſt have large Plaſters; When a wrong

Laſts many years, Bills of Complaint, are long,

And, ſharp words, may from him, be born withall,

Whoſe Drink and Food are Vineger and Gall.

I, have but one Life, and that's almoſt ſpent;

Let me not wait a time equivalent

To three mens lives, or till the Cure I crave

Comes, Phyſick-like, to him that's in his grave.

Nor let, by you, my Reaſon, at this time

Deſpiſed be, although you ſleight my Rime;

For, who ere ſleights a ſuffrer in his ſorrow,

Mine, or a worſe, may be his Caſe to morrow,

Or, ere the ſtorms, now threatn'd, are paſt thorow.

I uſe not to make friends; for I ſuppoſe

In Parliament, men have nor friends nor foes,

But as the Caſe deſerves; at leaſt, I know

That if it be not thus, it ſhould be ſo;

And, wiſh he may with ſhame requited be,

Who wilfully wrongs others, though for me.

All, which within your doors, Ile ask of you

Is no more, then I freely would allow

Ev'n to my greateſt foe, and be afraid

Of what might follow, if it were delaid.

All my Requeſts, without your doors have been

But that ſome one of you would carry in

My ſad Petitions; which I did in vain

Intreat for, whileſt four Parliaments did raign;

For, evermore, the Commonwealths Affairs,

Or, private mens more acceptable pray'rs

Kept my Petitions out, though I attended

From their firſt ſittings, till five Seſſions ended.

Though, many ſeem'd me, and my Cauſe to own

With good reſpect, and few men are more known.

Some ſtill, pretended to be pre-ingag'd

To others: ſome, againſt me were inrag'd

For perſonal reſpects: ſome did profeſſe

They fear'd their own Inacceptableneſſe

Might wrong my Cauſe: ſome, never were at leaſure

To do for any honeſt man, a pleaſure.

Some, very often, promis'd fair, and much;

But, their, or my ill hap, was ever ſuch

That, ſome croſſe intervening accident,

My hopes, and their performance did prevent:

And, one (as if I had been of a Nation

Without your Pale) ſaid, he knew no Relation

'Twixt him and me, obliging him unto

That favour I requeſted him to do:

Which anſwer, I, the leſſe was pleas'd withal,

Becauſe, he is a Major General;

And, one of thoſe, who (being raiſed, by

Pretending to the Common-liberty,)

Seem'd bound to have performed what I ſought

In Courteſie, or Conſcience, as I thought.

But, I, ſuch ſleightings very often ſmother,

And make good uſe of them, one time, or other.

This favour, I, yet want: This to obtain

By an Expedient, (once tride, not in vain)

I, once more now aſſay: For, though I hear

My Foes, do both my Rimes and Reaſons jeer,

(And, that they are but laugh'd at, make their boast)

They have not gain'd their ends, nor are mine loſt.

By theſe Outbreathings, I, refreſh my heart;

They pleaſe my friends; ſad muſings, they divert;

They will commemorate my honeſt Cauſe

When all their grinning teeth, rot from their jaws:

And, I, at them, who my deriders be

Laugh, with as much ſcorn as they laugh at me,

Becauſe, I know, their hearts, in ſecret, fear

Th' Events of that, whereat their Tongues do jeer;

And, that, at length, Time will a means provide,

Both to befool their wits, and ſhame their pride

By things which they contemn. I'll therefore try

How, Charmes of my deſpiſed Poetry

Will work on you; with hope, that they ſhall finde

Such acceptation, in the generous minde

Of ſome Heroick perſons, that I may

Acquire, what I have fail'd of to this day,

By having my Oppreſſions, and Afflictions

(Which are without Hyperbolies, or Fictions

To you declar'd) there, ſpeedily now read

Where, they ſhall juſtly be determined.

For, now the time is come, in which I, either

Muſt be repair'd, or ruin'd altogether,

If he, from whom, Repairs I, oft have got

(When I was nigh deſtroy'd) repaire me not.

Grant me, but that, which you would ask to have,

Were my Caſe, your; And I, no more will crave.

Your ſervant, Geo. Wither.