The
CAVALIER SONGS AND BALLADS
OF ENGLAND
FROM 1642 TO 1684
EDITED BY
CHARLES MACKAY
LL.D.
LONDON
GRIFFIN BOHN AND CO
STATIONERS’ HALL COURT
1863.
JOHN CHILDS AND SON, PRINTERS.
INTRODUCTION.
The Cavalier Ballads of England, like the Jacobite Ballads of England and Scotland at a later period, are mines of wealth for the student of the history and social manners of our ancestors. The rude but often beautiful political lyrics of the early days of the Stuarts were far more interesting and important to the people who heard or repeated them, than any similar compositions can be in our time. When the printing press was the mere vehicle of polemics for the educated minority, and when the daily journal was neither a luxury of the poor, a necessity of the rich, nor an appreciable power in the formation and guidance of public opinion, the song and the ballad appealed to the passion, if not to the intellect of the masses, and instructed them in all the leading events of the time. In our day the people need no information of the kind, for they procure it from the more readily available and more copious if not more reliable, source of the daily and weekly press. The song and ballad have ceased to deal with public affairs. No new ones of the kind are made except as miserable parodies and burlesques that may amuse sober costermongers and half-drunken men about town, who frequent music saloons at midnight, but which are offensive to every one else. Such genuine old ballads as remain in the popular memory are either fast dying out, or relate exclusively to the never-to-be-superseded topics of love, war, and wine. The people of our day have little heart or appreciation for song, except in Scotland and Ireland. England and America are too prosaic and too busy, and the masses, notwithstanding all their supposed advantages in education, are much too vulgar to delight in either song or ballad that rises to the dignity of poetry. They appreciate the buffooneries of the “Negro Minstrelsy,” and the inanities and the vapidities of sentimental love songs, but the elegance of such writers as Thomas Moore, and the force of such vigorous thinkers and tender lyrists as Robert Burns, are above their sphere, and are left to scholars in their closets and ladies in their drawing-rooms. The case was different among our ancestors in the memorable period of the struggle for liberty that commenced in the reign of Charles I. The Puritans had the pulpit on their side, and found it a powerful instrument. The Cavaliers had the song writers on theirs, and found them equally effective. And the song and ballad writers of that day were not always illiterate versifiers. Some of them were the choicest wits and most accomplished gentlemen of the nation. As they could not reach the ears of their countrymen by the printed book, the pamphlet, or the newspaper, nor mount the pulpit and dispute with Puritanism on its own ground and in its own precincts, they found the song, the ballad, and the epigram more available among a musical and song-loving people such as the English then were, and trusted to these to keep up the spirit of loyalty in the evil days of the royal cause, to teach courage in adversity, and cheerfulness in all circumstances, and to ridicule the hypocrites whom they could not shame, and the tyrants whom they could not overthrow. Though many thousands of these have been preserved in the King’s Pamphlets in the British Museum, and in other collections which have been freely ransacked for the materials of the following pages, as many thousands more have undoubtedly perished. Originally printed as broadsides, and sold for a halfpenny at country fairs, it used to be the fashion of the peasantry to paste them up in cupboards, or on the backs of doors, and farmers’ wives, as well as servant girls and farm labourers, who were able to read, would often paste them on the lids of their trunks, as the best means of preserving them. This is one reason why so many of them have been lost without recovery. To Sir W. C. Trevelyan literature is indebted for the restoration of a few of these waifs and strays, which he found pasted in an old trunk of the days of Cromwell, and which he carefully detached and presented to the British Museum. But a sufficient number of these flying leaves of satire, sentiment, and loyalty have reached our time, to throw a curious and instructive light upon the feelings of the men who resisted the progress of the English Revolution; and who made loyalty to the person of the monarch, even when the monarch was wrong, the first of the civic virtues. In the superabundance of the materials at command, as will be seen from the appended list of books and MSS. which have been consulted and drawn upon to form this collection, the difficulty was to keep within bounds, and to select only such specimens as merited a place in a volume necessarily limited, by their celebrity, their wit, their beauty, their historical interest, or the light they might happen to throw on the obscure biography of the most remarkable actors in the scenes which they describe. It would be too much to claim for these ballads the exalted title of poetry. They are not poetical in the highest sense of the word, and possibly would not have been so effective for the purpose which they were intended to serve, if their writers had been more fanciful and imaginative, or less intent upon what they had to say than upon the manner of saying it. But if not extremely poetical, they are extremely national, and racy of the soil; and some of them are certain to live as long as the language which produced them. For the convenience of reference and consultation they have been arranged chronologically; beginning with the discontents that inaugurated the reign of Charles I., and following regularly to the final, though short-lived, triumph of the Cavalier cause, in the accession of James II. After his ill-omened advent to the throne, the Cavalier became the Jacobite. In this collection no Jacobite songs, properly so called, are included, it being the intention of the publishers to issue a companion volume, of the Jacobite Ballads of England, from the accession of James II. to the battle of Culloden, should the public receive the present volume with sufficient favour to justify the venture.
The Editor cannot, in justice to previous fellow-labourers, omit to record his obligation to the interesting volume, with its learned annotations, contributed by Mr Thomas Wright to the Percy Society; or to another and equally valuable collection, edited by Mr J. O. Halliwell.
December, 1862.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
When the King enjoys his own again
,, comes home in Peace again
4
I love my King and Country well
6
The Commoners
8
The Royalist
10
The New Courtier
11
Upon the Cavaliers departing out of London
13
A Mad World, my Masters
14
The Man O’ The Moon
16
The Tub-Preacher
18
The New Litany
20
The Old Protestant’s Litany
23
Vive Le Roy
27
The Cavalier
28
A Caveat to the Roundheads
31
Hey, then, up go we
32
The Clean Contrary Way, or, Colonel Venne’s Encouragement to his Soldiers
35
The Cameronian Cat
37
The Royal Feast
39
Upon His Majesty’s coming to Holmby
50
I thank you twice
51
The Cities Loyaltie to the King
52
The Lawyers’ Lamentation for the Loss of Charing-Cross
55
The Downfal of Charing-Cross
56
The Long Parliament
58
The Puritan
61
The Roundhead
64
Prattle your pleasure under the rose
65
The Dominion of the Sword
67
The State’s New Coin
The Anarchie, or the Blest Reformation since 1640
71
A Coffin for King Charles, a Crown For Cromwell, And A Pit For The People
76
A Short Litany For The Year 1649
81
The Sale of Rebellion’s Household Stuff
82
The Cavalier’s Farewell to his Mistress, being called to the Wars
86
The Last News from France
87
Song to the Figure Two
91
The Reformation
94
Upon the General Pardon passed by the Rump
98
An Old Song on Oliver’s Court
100
The Parliament Routed, or Here’s a House to be Let
102
A Christmas Song, when the Rump was first dissolved
107
A Free Parliament Litany
110
The Mock Song
114
The Answer
116
As close as a Goose
118
The Prisoners
120
The Protecting Brewer
122
The Arraignment of the Devil for stealing away President Bradshaw
124
A New Ballad to an Old Tune, “Tom Of Bedlam”
130
Saint George and the Dragon, Anglice Mercurius Poeticus
133
The Second Part of St George for England
143
A New-year’s Gift for the Rump
147
A Proper New Ballad on the Old Parliament; or, the Second Part of Knave Out of Doors
151
The Tale of the Cobbler and the Vicar of Bray
166
The Geneva Ballad
191
The Devil’s Progress on Earth, or Huggle Duggle, etc.
A Bottle Definition of that Fallen Angel, called a Whig
196
The Desponding Whig
197
Phanatick Zeal, or a Looking-glass for the Whigs
199
A New Game at Cards: or, Win at First and Lose at Last
202
The Cavaleers Litany
205
The Cavalier’s Complaint
209
An Echo to the Cavalier’s Complaint
211
A Relation
213
The Glory of these Nations
217
The Noble Progress, or, a True Relation of the Lord General Monk’s Political Proceedings
223
On the King’s Return
227
The Brave Barbary
228
A Catch
229
The Turn-coat
231
The Claret-drinker’s Song, or, the Good Fellow’s Design
233
The Loyal Subjects’ Hearty Wishes to King Charles II.
236
King Charles the Second’s Restoration, 29th May
243
The Jubilee, or the Coronation Day
246
The King enjoys his own again
247
A Country Song, intituled the Restoration
248
Here’s a Health unto His Majesty
251
The Whigs drowned in an Honest Tory health
251
The Cavalier
253
The Lamentation of a Bad Market, or the Disbanded Souldier
255
The Courtier’s Health; or, The Merry Boys of the Times
260
The Loyal Tories’ Delight; or A Pill for Fanaticks
262
The Royal Admiral
The Unfortunate Whigs
266
The Downfall of the Good Old Cause
268
Old Jemmy
271
The Cloak’s Knavery
274
The Time-server, or a Medley
278
The Soldier’s Delight
280
The Loyal Soldier
281
The Polititian
283
A New Droll
285
The Royalist
287
The Royalist’s Resolve
288
Loyalty turned up Trump, or the Danger over
290
The Loyalist’s Encouragement
290
The Trouper
292
On the Times, or The Good Subject’s Wish
293
The Jovialists’ Coronation
294
The Loyal Prisoner
295
Canary’s Coronation
297
The Mournful Subjects, or, The Whole Nation’s Lamination, from the highest to the lowest
299
Memento Mori
303
Accession of James II.
305
On the Most High and Mighty Monarch King James
307
In a Summer’s Day
309
LIST OF
BALLAD AND SONG BOOKS
AND
MSS. QUOTED IN THIS COLLECTION.
Ashmolean Collection.
Antidote to Melancholy, 1682.
Apollo’s Banquet, 1690.
Additional MSS.
Aviary, 1740–1745.
Broadsides, in the reign of Charles II.
„ „ „ Roxburghe ballads.
Butler’s, Samuel, Posthumous Works, 1732.
Burney’s, Dr, Collection of Songs.
Ballads, six, of the time of Charles II., in the British Museum.
Bagford’s Collection [qu. date].
Brome’s, Alex., Songs [qu. date].
Banquet of Music, 1689.
Bull’s, Dr, Collection of Songs [qu. date].
* Collection of State Songs that have been published since the Rebellion, and sung at the several Mug-houses in the Cities of London and Westminster, 1716.
* Collection of Loyal Songs, 1750 [Jacobites].
Complete Collection of Old and New English and Scotch Songs, 1735.
Craig’s Collection, 1730.
Convivial Songster, 1782.
Crown Garlands of Golden Roses.
Carey’s, Henry, Musical Centus, 1740.
* D’Urfey’s Songs (4 volumes,) or Pills to
Douce’s Collection, Oxford.
Delightful Companion for the Recorder, 1686.
Dixon’s Ballads of the Peasants of England.
English Political Songs and Ballads of the 17th and 18th Centuries, by Walker Wilkins.
Evans’ Old Ballads, 1810.
England under the House of Hanover, by Thos. Wright.
Folly in Print, or a Book of Rhymes, 1667.
Golden Garlands of Princely delights, 1620.
Harleian MSS.
Halifax’s Songs, 1694.
Halliwell’s Collection of Ballads, “Cheetham Library.”
Hogg’s Jacobite Relics of Scotland.
Jordan’s, Thomas, London Triumphant, 1672.
King’s Library.
„ Pamphlets—Collection of Political Songs, from 1640 to the Restoration of Charles II.
Kitchener, Dr, Loyal and National Songs.
Loyal Songs, 120, 1684, by N. Thompson.
,, 180, 1685 to 1694.
Loyal Songs, 1731.
* Loyal Songs written against the Rump Parliament, between 1639 and 1661.
Loyal Garland, containing choice Songs, &c., of our late Revolution, 1761, and 5th Edition, 1686, Percy Society.
Merry Drollery, complete, 1670.
Muses’ Merriment, 1656. See “Sportive Wit.”
Musical MSS., British Museum.
Musical Miscellany, Watts.
Muse’s Delight, 1757, or “Apollo’s Cabinet.”
Old Ballads, 1723, British Museum.
Playford’s Music and Mirth—“Douce’s Collection.”
„ Choice Songs, &c.
Playford’s Theatre of Music, 1685.
,, Pleasant Music Companion.
,, Catch that Catch can.
„ Antidote against Melancholy, 1669.
Political Merriment.
* Pills to Purge Melancholy, 1661.
Parker’s, Martin, Ballads, Roxburghe Collection.
Political Ballads, Percy Society, Wright’s Collection.
Pepys’ Collection, British Museum.
Rats rhymed to Death, 1660; King’s Pamphlets, British Museum.
* Roxburghe Ballads, 3 vols.
Rump Collection of Songs, 1639 to 1661. See Loyal Songs.
Ritson’s Ancient Songs, 1790.
,, English ,,
Ramsay, Allan, Tea-table Miscellany, 1724.
Rome rhymed to Death [qu. date].
Sportive Wit; the Muse’s Merriment [qu. date].
Skene MSS.
Suckling’s, Sir John, Works [qu. date].
Second Tale of a Tub, 1715.
Satirical Songs on Costume.
True Loyalist, or Chevalier’s Favourite, 1779.
Triumph of Wit, or Ingenuity Displayed.
Taubman’s, Mat., Heroic and Choice Songs on the Times, 1682.
Westminster Drollery, 1671.
* Wit and Mirth, or Pills to Purge Melancholy.
Wit restored, 1658.
Wit’s Recreation, 1654
Williams’, Sir Charles Hanbury, Political Songs.
Wood’s, Anthony, Collection at Oxford [Ashmolean].
Withers, George, Songs.
Wade’s, John, Ballads [qu. date].
CAVALIER SONGS AND BALLADS.
WHEN THE KING ENJOYS HIS OWN AGAIN.
This is perhaps the most popular of all the Cavalier songs—a favour which it partly owes to the excellent melody with which it is associated. The song, says Mr Chappell, is ascertained to be by Martin Parker, by the following extract from the Gossips’ Feast, or Moral Tales, 1647. “By my faith, Martin Parker never got a fairer treat: no, not when he indited that sweet ballad, When the King enjoys his own again.” In the poet’s Blind Man’s Bough (or Buff), 1641, Martin Parker says,
“Whatever yet was published by me
Was known as Martin Parker, or M. P.;”
but this song was printed without his name or initials, at a time when it would have been dangerous to give either his own name or that of his publisher. Ritson calls it the most famous song of any time or country. Invented to support the declining interest of Charles I., it served afterwards with more success to keep up the spirits of the Cavaliers, and promote the restoration of his son; an event which it was employed to celebrate all over the kingdom. At the Revolution of 1688, it of course became an adherent of the exiled King, whose cause it never deserted. It did equal service in 1715 and 1745. The tune appears to have been originally known as Marry me, marry me, quoth he, bonnie lass. Booker, Pond, Hammond, Rivers, Swallow, Dade, and “The Man in the Moon,” were all astrologers and Almanac makers in the early days of the civil war. “The Man in the Moon” appears to have been a loyalist in his predictions. Hammond’s Almanac is called “bloody” because the compiler always took care to note the anniversary of the death, execution, or downfall of a Royalist.
What Booker doth prognosticate
Concerning kings’ or kingdoms’ fate?
I think myself to be as wise
As he that gazeth on the skies;
My skill goes beyond the depth of a Pond,
Or Rivers in the greatest rain,
Thereby I can tell all things will be well
When the King enjoys his own again.
There’s neither Swallow, Dove, nor Dade,
Can soar more high, or deeper wade,
Nor show a reason from the stars
What causeth peace or civil wars;
The Man in the Moon may wear out his shoon
By running after Charles his wain:
But all’s to no end, for the times will not mend
Till the King enjoys his own again.
Though for a time we see Whitehall
With cobwebs hanging on the wall
Instead of silk and silver brave,
Which formerly it used to have,
With rich perfume in every room,—
Delightful to that princely train,
Which again you shall see, when the time it shall be,
That the King enjoys his own again.
Full forty years the royal crown
Hath been his father’s and his own;
And is there any one but he
That in the same should sharer be?
For who better may the sceptre sway
Than he that hath such right to reign?
Then let’s hope for a peace, for the wars will not cease
Till the King enjoys his own again.
[Did Walker no predictions lack
In Hammond’s bloody almanack?
Foretelling things that would ensue,
That all proves right, if lies be true;
But why should not he the pillory foresee,
Wherein poor Toby once was ta’en?
And also foreknow to the gallows he must go
When the King enjoys his own again?] [1]
Till then upon Ararat’s hill
My hope shall cast her anchor still,
Until I see some peaceful dove
Bring home the branch I dearly love;
Then will I wait till the waters abate
Which now disturb my troubled brain,
Else never rejoice till I hear the voice
That the King enjoys his own again.
WHEN THE KING COMES HOME IN PEACE AGAIN.
From a broadside in the Roxburghe Collection of Ballads. It appears to have been written shortly after Martin Parker’s original ballad obtained popularity among the Royalists, and to be by another hand. It bears neither date nor printer’s name; and has “God save the King,
Oxford and Cambridge shall agree,
With honour crown’d, and dignity;
For learned men shall then take place,
And bad be silenced with disgrace:
They’ll know it to be but a casualty
That hath so long disturb’d their brain;
For I can surely tell that all things will go well
When the King comes home in peace again.
Church government shall settled be,
And then I hope we shall agree
Without their help, whose high-brain’d zeal
Hath long disturb’d the common weal;
Greed out of date, and cobblers that do prate
Of wars that still disturb their brain;
The which you will see, when the time it shall be
That the King comes home in peace again.
Though many now are much in debt,
And many shops are to be let,
A golden time is drawing near,
Men shops shall take to hold their ware;
And then all our trade shall flourishing be made,
To which ere long we shall attain;
For still I can tell all things will be well
When the King comes home in peace again.
Maidens shall enjoy their mates,
And honest men their lost estates;
Women shall have what they do lack,
Their husbands, who are coming back.
When the wars have an end, then I and my friend
All subjects’ freedom shall obtain;
By which I can tell all things will be well
When we enjoy sweet peace again.
Though people now walk in great fear
Along the country everywhere,
Thieves shall then tremble at the law,
And justice shall keep them in awe:
The Frenchies shall flee with their treacherie,
And the foes of the King ashamed remain:
The which you shall see when the time it shall be
That the King comes home in peace again.
The Parliament must willing be
That all the world may plainly see
How they do labour still for peace,
That now these bloody wars may cease;
For they will gladly spend their lives to defend
The King in all his right to reign:
So then I can tell all things will be well
When we enjoy sweet peace again.
When all these things to pass shall come
Then farewell Musket, Pick, and Drum,
The Lamb shall with the Lion feed,
Which were a happy time indeed.
O let us pray we may all see the day
That peace may govern in his name,
For then I can tell all things will be well
When the King comes home in peace again.
I LOVE MY KING AND COUNTRY WELL.
From Songs and other Poems by Alex. Brome, Gent. Published London 1664; written 1645.
I love my King and country well,
Religion and the laws;
Which I’m mad at the heart that e’er we did sell
To buy the good old cause.
These unnatural wars
And brotherly jars
Are no delight or joy to me;
But it is my desire
That the wars should expire,
And the King and his realms agree.
I never yet did take up arms,
And yet I dare to dye;
But I’ll not be seduced by phanatical charms
Till I know a reason why.
Why the King and the state
Should fall to debate
I ne’er could yet a reason see,
But I find many one
Why the wars should be done,
And the King and his realms agree.
I love the King and the Parliament,
But I love them both together:
And when they by division asunder are rent,
I know ’tis good for neither.
Whichsoe’er of those
Be victorious,
I’m sure for us no good ’twill be,
For our plagues will increase
Unless we have peace,
And the King and his realms agree.
The King without them can’t long stand,
Nor they without the King;
’Tis they must advise, and ’tis he must command,
For their power from his must spring.
’Tis a comfortless sway
When none will obey;
If the King han’t his right, which way shall we?
They may vote and make laws,
But no good they will cause
Till the King and his realm agree.
A pure religion I would have,
Not mixt with human wit;
And I cannot endure that each ignorant knave
Should dare to meddle with it.
The tricks of the law
I would fain withdraw,
That it may be alike to each degree:
And I fain would have such
As do meddle so much,
With the King and the church agree.
We have pray’d and pray’d that the wars might cease,
And we be free men made;
I would fight, if my fighting would bring any peace,
But war is become a trade.
Our servants did ride
With swords by their side,
And made their masters footmen be;
But we’ll be no more slaves
To the beggars and knaves
Now the King and the realms do agree.
THE COMMONERS.
Written in 1645 to the Club-men, by Alex. Brome.
Come your ways,
Bonny boys
Of the town,
For now is your time or never:
Shall your fears
Or your cares
Cast you down?
Hang your wealth
And your health,
Get renown.
We are all undone for ever,
Now the King and the crown
Are tumbling down,
And the realm doth groan with disasters;
And the scum of the land
Are the men that command,
And our slaves are become our masters.
Now our lives,
Children, wives,
And estate,
Are a prey to the lust and plunder,
To the rage
Of our age;
And the fate
Of our land
Is at hand;
’Tis too late
To tread these usurpers under.
First down goes the crown,
Then follows the gown,
Thus levell’d are we by the Roundhead;
While Church and State must
Feed their pride and their lust,
And the kingdom and king be confounded.
Shall we still
Suffer ill
And be dumb,
And let every varlet undo us?
Shall we doubt
That doth come,
With a voice
Like the noise
Of a drum,
And a sword or a buff-coat, to us?
Shall we lose our estates
By plunder and rates,
To bedeck those proud upstarts that swagger?
Rather fight for your meat
Which those locusts do eat,
Now every man’s a beggar.
THE ROYALIST.
By Alex. Brome. Written 1646.
Come pass about the bowl to me,
A health to our distressed King;
Though we’re in hold let cups go free,
Birds in a cage may freely sing.
The ground does tipple healths afar
When storms do fall, and shall not we?
A sorrow dares not show its face
When we are ships, and sack’s the sea.
Pox on this grief, hang wealth, let’s sing;
Shall’s kill ourselves for fear of death?
We’ll live by th’ air which songs do bring,
Our sighing does but waste our breath.
Then let us not be discontent,
Nor drink a glass the less of wine;
In vain they’ll think their plagues are spent
When once they see we don’t repine.
We do not suffer here alone,
Though we are beggar’d, so’s the King;
’Tis sin t’ have wealth when he has none,
Tush! poverty’s a royal thing!
When we are larded well with drink,
Our head shall turn as round as theirs,
Our feet shall rise, our bodies sink
Clean down the wind like Cavaliers.
Fill this unnatural quart with sack,
Nature all vacuums doth decline;
Ourselves will be a zodiac,
And every mouth shall be a sign.
Methinks the travels of the glass
Are circular, like Plato’s year;
Where everything is as it was
Let’s tipple round: and so ’tis here.
THE NEW COURTIER.
By Alex. Brome. 1648.
Since it must be so
Then so let it go,
Let the giddy-brain’d times turn round;
Since we have no king let the goblet be crown’d,
Our monarchy thus will recover:
While the pottles are weeping
We’ll drench our sad souls
In big-bellied bowls;
Our sorrows in sack shall lie steeping,
And we’ll drink till our eyes do run over;
And prove it by reason
That it can be no treason
To drink and to sing
A mournival of healths to our new-crown’d King.
Let us all stand bare;—
In the presence we are,
Let our noses like bonfires shine;
Instead of the conduits, let the pottles run wine,
To perfect this new coronation;
And we that are loyal
In drink shall be peers,
While that face that wears
Pure claret, looks like the blood-royal,
And outstares the bones of the nation:
In sign of obedience,
Our oath of allegiance
Beer-glasses shall be,
And he that tipples ten is of the nobility.
But if in this reign
The halberted train
Or the constable should rebel,
And should make their turbill’d militia to swell,
And against the King’s party raise arms;
Then the drawers, like yeomen
Of the guards, with quart pots
Shall fuddle the sots,
While we make ’em both cuckolds and freemen;
And on their wives beat up alarums.
Thus as each health passes
We’ll triple the glasses,
And hold it no sin
To be loyal and drink in defence of our King.
UPON THE CAVALIERS DEPARTING OUT OF LONDON.
By Alex. Brome.
Now fare thee well, London,
Thou next must be undone,
’Cause thou hast undone us before;
This cause and this tyrant
Had never play’d this high rant
Were’t not for thy argent d’or.
Now we must desert thee,
With the lines that begirt thee,
And the red-coated saints domineer;
Who with liberty fool thee,
While a monster doth rule thee,
And thou feel’st what before thou didst fear.
Now justice and freedom,
With the laws that did breed ’em,
Are sent to Jamaica for gold,
And those that upheld ’em
Have power but seldom,
For justice is barter’d and sold.
Now the Christian religion
Must seek a new region,
And the old saints give way to the new;
And we that are loyal
Vail to those that destroy all,
When the Christian gives place to the Jew.
But this is our glory,
In this wretched story
Calamities fall on the best;
And those that destroy us
Do better employ us,
To sing till they are supprest.
A MAD WORLD, MY MASTERS.
From the King’s pamphlets, British Museum.
We have a King, and yet no King,
For he hath lost his power;
For ’gainst his will his subjects are
Imprison’d in the Tower.
We had some laws (but now no laws)
By which he held his crown;
And we had estates and liberties,
But now they’re voted down.
We had religion, but of late
That’s beaten down with clubs;
Whilst that profaneness authorized
Is belched forth in tubs.
We were free subjects born, but now
We are by force made slaves,
By some whom we did count our friends,
But in the end proved knaves.
And now to such a grievous height
Are our misfortunes grown,
That our estates are took away
By tricks before ne’er known.
For there are agents sent abroad
Most humbly for to crave
Our alms; but if they are denied,
And of us nothing have,
Then by a vote ex tempore
We are to prison sent,
Mark’d with the name of enemy,
To King and Parliament:
And during our imprisonment,
Their lawless bulls do plunder
A license to their soldiers,
Our houses for to plunder.
And if their hounds do chance to smell
A man whose fortunes are
Of some account, whose purse is full,
Which now is somewhat rare;
A monster now, delinquent term’d,
He is declared to be,
And that his lands, as well as goods,
Sequester’d ought to be.
As if our prisons were too good,
He is to Yarmouth
By virtue of a warrant from
The King and Parliament.
Thus in our royal sovereign’s name,
And eke his power infused,
And by the virtue of the same,
He and all his abused.
For by this means his castles now
Are in the power of those
Who treach’rously, with might and main,
Do strive him to depose.
Arise, therefore, brave British men,
Fight for your King and State,
Against those trait’rous men that strive
This realm to ruinate.
’Tis Pym, ’tis Pym and his colleagues,
That did our woe engender;
Nought but their lives can end our woes,
And us in safety render.