The King he was my serving-man,
And thus the plot we did contrive:
I went by the name of Mistress Anne
When we took water at Queenhythe.
A boat there we took,
And London forsook,
And now in France arrived are we.
We got away by stealth,
And the King is in good health,
And he shall no longer wait on me.
The King of Denmark’s dead, they say,
Then Charles is like to rule the land;
In France he will no longer stay,
As I do rightly understand.
That land is his due,
If they be but true,
And he with them do well agree:
I heard a bird sing
If he once be their king,
My man will then my master be.
Now Heaven grant them better success
With their young king than England had;
Free from war and from distress,
Their fortune may not be so bad;
Since the case thus stands,
Let neighbouring lands
Lay down their arms and at quiet be;
But as for my part,
I am glad with all my heart
That my King must now my master be.
And thus I have declared to you
By what means we escaped away;
Now we bid our cares adieu,
Though the King did lose the day.
To him I was true,
And that he well knew;
’Tis God that must his comfort be,
Else all our policy
Had been but foolery,
For the King no longer waits on me.
SONG TO THE FIGURE TWO.
From vol. ii. of the Roxburgh Ballads, in the British Museum.
A merry new song wherein you may view
The drinking healths of a joviall crew,
To t’ happie return of the figure of TWO.
The figure of Two is a palpable allusion to Charles II. Tune, “Ragged, and torn, and true.”
I have been a traveller long,
And seen the conditions of all;
I see how each other they wrong,
And the weakest still goes to the wall.
And here I’ll begin to relate
The crosse condition of those
That hinder our happy fate,
And now are turned our foes.
Here’s a health to the figure of Two,
To the rest of the issue renown’d;
We’ll bid all our sorrows adieu,
When the figure of Two shall be crown’d.
I crossed the ocean of late,
And there I did meet with a crosse,
But having a pretty estate,
I never lamented my losse:
I never lamented my harmes,
And yet I was wondrous sad;
I found all the land up in arms,
And I thought all the folke had bin mad.
Here’s a health, etc.