Sir John Marlow’s [20] a loyall man
(If England ere bred any),
He bang’d the pedlar back and side,
Of Scots he killed many.
Had General King [21] done what he should,
And given the blew-caps battail,
Wee’d make them all run into Tweed
By droves, like sommer cattell.
The King sent us, etc.
Will Morton’s [22] of that Cardinal’s race,
Who made that blessed maryage;
He is most loyall to his King,
In action, word, and carryage;
His sword and pen defends the cause,
If King Charles thinke not on him,
Will is amongst the rest undone,—
The Lord have mercy on him!
The King sent us, etc.
Tom Conisby [23] is stout and stern,
Yet of a sweet condition;
To them he loves his crime was great,
He read the King’s commission,
And required Cranborn to assist;
He charged, but should have pray’d him;
Tom was so bold he did require
All for the King should aid him.
The King sent us, etc.
But I Win. Bodnam [24] had forgot,
Had suffer’d so much hardship;
There’s no man in the Towre had left
The King so young a wardship;
He’s firme both to the church and crowne,
The crown law and the canon;
The Houses put him to his shifts,
And his wife’s father Mammon.
The King sent us, etc.
Sir Henry Vaughan [25] looks as grave
As any beard can make him;
Those come poore prisoners for to see
Doe for our patriarke take him.
Old Harry is a right true-blue,
As valiant as Pendraggon;
And would be loyall to his King,
Had King Charles ne’er a rag on.
The King sent us, etc.
John Lilburne [26] is a stirring blade,
And understands the matter;
He neither will king, bishops, lords,
Nor th’ House of Commons flatter:
John loves no power prerogative,
But that derived from Sion;
As for the mitre and the crown,
Those two he looks awry on.
The King sent us, etc.
Tom Violet [27] swears his injuries
Are scarcely to be numbred;
He was close prisoner to the State
These score dayes and nine hundred;
For Tom does set down all the dayes,
And hopes he has good debters;
’Twould be no treason (Jenkin sayes)
To bring them peaceful letters.
The King sent us, etc.
Poore Hudson [28] of all was the last,
For it was his disaster,
He met a turncoat swore that he
Was once King Charles his master;
So he to London soon was brought,
But came in such a season,
Their martial court was then cry’d down,
They could not try his treason.
The king sent us, etc.
Else Hudson had gone to the pot,
Who is he can abide him?
For he was master to the King,
And (which is more) did guide him.
Had Hudson done (as Judas did),
Most loyally betray’d him,
The Houses are so noble, they
As bravely would have paid him.
The King sent us, etc.
We’ll then conclude with hearty healths
To King Charles and Queen Mary;
To the black lad in buff (the Prince),
So like his grandsire Harry;
To York, to Glo’ster; may we not
Send Turk and Pope defiance,
Since we such gallant seconds have
To strengthen our alliance?
Wee’l drink them o’re and o’re again,
Else we’re unthankfull creatures;
Since Charles, the wise, the valiant King,
Takes us for loyall traytors.