%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> Pyms Juncto. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer 1643-1643 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 07/14/2014 34017

The University of California makes a claim of copyright only to original contributions made by Early Modern Center participants and other members of the university community. The University of California makes no claim of copyright to the original text. Permission is granted to download, transmit or otherwise reproduce, distribute or display the contributions to this work claimed by The University of California for non-profit educational purposes, provided that this header is included in its entirety. For inquiries about commercial uses, please contact:

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

R212046 TRuth I could chide you, Sirs, why how so late? / My watch speaks eight, and not one pin o'th State Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 1215 Pyms Juncto. Pyms Juncto. Pyms Juncto. 1643-1643 Wil. Web

This document follows the guidelines specified for TEI.

XML Generated Automatically at 7/14/2014 3:36:55 PM Using EMC

XBallad Parsing Engine developed by Carl G Stahmer.

TEI Template developed by Gerald Egan and Modified by Carl Stahmer

All apostrophes are encoded as '.

Any dashs occurring in line breaks have been removed;

All dashs are encoded as ‐ and all em dashes as —.

 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 7/14/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America country/ nation military/ war nobility/ court politics/ government Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 7/14/2014 3:36:55 PM XBallad Russ, Theresa Created XML Version of Ballad 7/14/2014 3:36:55 PM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/14/2014 3:36:55 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Doran, Thomas Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/14/2014 3:36:55 PM Transcriptionist Two Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/14/2014 3:36:55 PM Transcriptionist One Palmer Browne, Megan Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/5/2013 Checker William Hildalgo Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 11/27/2012 Bibliographer William Hildalgo Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 10/29/2013 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">Pyms Juncto.</hi></hi></seg>
TRuth I could chide you, Sirs, why how so late? My watch speaks eight, and not one pin o' th State As yet undone? can such remissenes fit Your active spirits, or my hellish wit? Each step the Sun amounts to heavens crown (Whiles Pym comands) must see a kingdom down. I'm sure you have spurs enough to make you run, Guilt hopes, crackt fortunes, & the ils y've done. Thus whylome seated was, great James his heire Just as you see me now i' th Kingdoms chair. There the great Seal, there Richmond, Hartford sat, There Marshal, Dorset, Bristols temperate pate, But there sat Pembrock life of loyalty, There Holland flower of fidelity. We are no lesse then Charles in power and state, You are our juncto now, as his of late. Here sits Kimbolton, holy Say and Seal, With Wharton, Warwick, Brooks inspired zeal: Strood, Hampden, Hollis, Haslerig, bold spirits, Fynes, Martin, Ludlow, vain unmatched weights: But there Church-elder White, religious Beard, There sits abomination, statest Peard: Charles bide at Oxford thy Crown, that pretty thing We must most humbly be at London King. But what's the businesse of the House today? How speaks my notes? Commissions of Array. The ninteen Propositions to be scan'd A second time, Manchestets trained Band: Letters from Tristram, Whitcum, and from Hull, From Amsterdam, the Admirall, how full Of high concernments are we? Sirs advise How we most warily may play our prize: I do conceive it must be our first play (Be 't right or wrong) by vote to damne th' Aray. If ever that take footing, or advance, Farewell Militia, and our Ordinance. What will the appearance be d'ye think? yet stay Who dares our leading votes, by votes gainsay? Should any haughty spirits presume so far, What serves the Tower for then? or what the bar? But if we see the businesse will not bend As may be most conducing to our end By some fine way, it must be our next plot To put it off, and a new time alot And just jump for our turne: some letters shall From Whitcombe, Hotham, and our Admirall, (Though forged in truth) be interposed and read, To spend the time, and maze the peoples head. If the next day, we yet suspect to finde Such whose just consciences can't be inclinde To be made vassalls, to our desperate sense It is easie to procure a conference Which shall out spin the leasure of the morn, Then weel resume the House, and so adjourne Till five at night, the moderate (wearied thus) Will quit their seats, and leave here none but us: There's president for that, this was the feat That pluckt the Bishops from the Barons seat. This wrought good orders, many & many a vote, This Art must my Disciples get by rote. But if the Accommodation chance to spring Into debate, your whole Artillery bring,
And lay that flat: that calm'd, my Genious starts with feare, to finde i' th House too loyall hearts: Seem (though) we must teeth outward to comply And humbly kisse the feet of Majesty: Yet live we can't, unles, obedience dead, Nor stand elsewhere, but on the Kingdoms head. Calms proper are for guiltlesse sons of peace, Our vessells bear best out in troubled seas. Charles must not reigne secure, whilst rules a Pym, The Sun if rise with us, must set with him; You have our pleasure, which let be exprest To Pembrock, Stamford, Roberts, and the rest, Bid Essex, Piercy, and the quandam groom O' th stool await us in the painted room. Some of you subtily may in Cottens walk, Sit and allure affections by your talke; 'Twill be a worke worthy your nimblest wit, To gain the Divell and us a Proselite: So, to your businesse, yet ere you be gon, Take this advice, then blessings light upon Your nimble pates, first be you sure you shroud Your darke designes in a religious cloud. Gods glory, Churches good, King head, suprem, A preaching Ministery must be your theam; Next structure of your Babell, to be built, Must speciously be varnisht o're and guilt, With liberties and property of lives And fortune, 'gainst high stretcht prerogatives, And then a speech or two is fitly spent For rights and priviledges of Parliament. These two well mixt you'l need no other lures To gain the people, and to make them yours: If Charles displeased, with some witty tart Message (and justly too) shall make you start, Saying, y' ave put him to his guard, be sure You then cry loud enough, and first cry whore War rais'd against the Parliament, and great Hindrance of the Irish aid, and strong abet Unto the Rebels, then if anything You have may blast the honour of the King, Be 't nere so bad, no matter from what hand, We'le vote it true, and then believe command. But on your memories Ile impose no more, You cannot misse the way when I'm before. Rise Cincua, Scilla, Marius, Graccus ghosts, And thou worst Cataline, with all thine hosts Romes greatest earthquake, and this little trunk Makes with your desperate spirits, deeply drunk: Up from your drowsie urnes, the ghosts of those (My Ancestors) that Richard did depose. Drop fresh into my breast, my soule inspire, And strongly actuate me with your fire. That these thus mixt with my malicious gall, Mine may with theirs fully possesse you all: Go, and exceed the mischiefes as much more As theirs did all ire attempts which were before Act past example, that it may be known You copied no example but your own: And if in after times when silently We sleep, another firebrand chance to be, 'Twill be chiefe crown, and glory unto him To say he shap'd his plots like you and Pym.
Finis. Oxford, Printed for Wil. Web. 1643.