%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> Troy-Novant must not be Burnt. / Or, an exhortative to the City to pre- / serve themselves. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 06/18/2014 33890

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

R210762 VVHat is there none that will the City right? / Was all their story by feirce Vulcans spight. Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 1269 Troy-Novant must not be Burnt. / Or, an exhortative to the City to pre- / serve themselves. Troy-Novant must not be Burnt. Or, an exhortative to the City to pre- serve themselves. Troy Novant must not be Burnt. Or, an exhortative to the City to preserve themselves. ?-?

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family Featured folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 6/18/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America country/ nation London mythology/ Classical politics/ government Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 6/18/2014 10:59:43 AM XBallad Casavant, Alex Created XML Version of Ballad 6/18/2014 10:59:43 AM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/18/2014 10:59:43 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/18/2014 10:59:43 AM Transcriptionist Two Koath, Jayne Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/18/2014 10:59:43 AM Transcriptionist One Keller Scotch, Grace Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/25/2014 Checker Charlotte Becker Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/4/2013 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/21/2012 Bibliographer Elizabeth Aguilar Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Troy-Novant must not be Burnt.</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Or, an exhortative to the City to pre-</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">serve themselves.</hi></seg>
WHat is there none that will the City right? Was all their story by feirce Vulcans spight. Burnt in Ben. Johnsons study; Let us rake, And from those Ashes new-liv'd, sparkles take. Not to consume our Troy, (as * he did Rome, Who made him Musicke of his Citys doome:) Rather such straines shall start from our strucke lyre Which shall build up our Thebes, not set on fire. Such a bright Beame we'l dart; that shall renew Your Ancestours, and bring their Acts to view. Acts that were lost, like his Eurydice, Which we'l reduce by Orphan Melody: Acts, that your Senators cloth will deeplier dy, And make them Scarlet now with infamy. When that their Purple shall upbraid the cloth, Now spoyld, and eaten by a Politique Moth, (Vermine at Westminster,) whom you have nurst, Untill your selves are starv'd; yet thei'le not burst. See how the Bull-chins hang oth' Kingdoms breasts, While she lanck Milcher lookes like Pharaos beasts. Transparent; and her squeez'd udders flop, Like the dry'd driver of a schoole-boys Top. Was the brave dagger in your Armes for this? Was it for yeilding up your Liberties? Was it for patient, modest siting still? And let the Rebell Act what his proud will Had once presum'd? No: It was given to shew, To after-age the Honour of that Blow. That dagger still so famous on Record, Which did engage unto it a double sword. That of the Kings, and Majors, and did advance, Upon its Point the Cap of Maintenance. Look up to that brave Trojans; and youl' stagger, Your' bold invaders, if you draw that dagger. Looke in your Chronicles, and read what feares, You were put in by the first * Levellers. A silly, Lowsy, undigested Throng, Who thought to have tane the Kingdome with * a song. Which these base Rebells, the true brood of those, But not so learned, doe pursue in Prose. Shall such a sort of Raskalls the State awe? Worse then those were, who are not worth a straw. Shall these in Triumph ride throw the glaz'd streets? When you may smell from Windsor by their feet. Shall these on Palfreys through the City ride? Who Crosse-legge sate till now, and ne're a stride. Shall these the Honour of an Nation merit? And say they tooke once London by the spirit. And have a Name, only renowned in story, * For burning London, to the good Lords glory. * Nero. * Given for suppressing Wyats Re- bellion. * Jack Straw & Cades Rebelli- on suppressed by the City. * When Adam Diggd and E- vispan, who was then the Gen- tleman. * Crumwells words; What if it were for the glory of God this city were burnt.
Shall these prophane the Scepter, as it were A goodly Hoppe-pole made for Oliver. And shall the horse of state by Pockey hands, Be led and be at Martins fowle commands. And goe as Gingerly as he; shall Vane, (Old perjurd Vane) sweare away CHARLES his Raigne. As he did Straffords head. To make his Babies Sucking Independents, Lords of Raby. Shall Mildmay that same Precious Knave, cause knowne? A Thiefe for Jewells, steale away the Crowne. Or Chaloner that speeching Atheist, thinke, That the Kings fame is murdered by his Inke. And because these could a * Declaration Compose, Compose too an abus'd Nation. We rise (you Imposters) as on a May day; The Ills of the base Houses to display. To pull them downe, or send you thence, who sit, And contrive Plagues. and pay your selves for it. Give the Pale Speaker tother thousand Pound, If he can Vote CHARLES his deposing round. (This is their worke) yee shall be guarded, yes, But from the Palace to your destinies. You shall not longer by your Arts detaine us, We rise up all as Crispin and Crispianus. Or like the Bechams bold: you Vote down Playes. That we may' not know the valour of those dayes. Because your snifling worships want lets see, No Plays, we'll now go Act the Tragady. And though you lately cleansed, for your owne sakes, The Privies, we'l purge, you the Kingdomes lakes. Never such noysome excrement did fit, Chose sure, when that the Country was at shit. Whose stink so rancke upon our nostrill grows, As Atkins were sole gossip to the House. Foh you State Farmers! Let your owne despaire, Drive you away; That we may clense the aire. And make it fit for Caesars Nose againe, If that the Royall Nose will ever deigne, To be so ne're such Pole-cats: We now bring Hempe for you Rebells, Nose-gays for the King. *These foure the complliers of the scande- lus Declarati- on against the King. Epiphonoma. When Nero thnatned Rome with glorious Fire The news was next, the Tyrant did expire. Go Oliver, thy malice not prevailes. Thou hast two enemies, London and Wales. And both in thy sure ruines hope to laugh, Wales be thy Tombe, London thy Epitaph.
FINIS.