The Cavalier Songs and Ballads of England from 1642 to 1684. VariousЧитать онлайн книгу.
all the King’s friends may enjoy their estates,
And not be kept, as they have been, at low rates,
That the poor may find comfort again at their gates,
Te rogamus, etc.
That thou wilt all our oppressions remove,
And grant us firm faith and hope, join’d with true love,
Convert or confound all which virtue reprove,
Te rogamus, etc.
That all peevish sects that would live uncontroll’d,
And will not be govern’d, as all subjects should,
To New England may pack, or live quiet i’ th’ Old,
Te rogamus, etc.
That gracious King Charles, with his children and wife,
Who long time have suffer’d through this civil strife,
May end with high honour their natural life,
Te rogamus, etc.
That they who have seized on honest men’s treasure,
Only for their loyalty to God and to Cæsar,
May in time convenient find measure for measure,
Te rogamus, etc.
That thou all these blessings upon us wilt send,
We are no Independents, on Thee we depend, And as we believe, from all harm us defend; Te rogamus, etc.
VIVE LE ROY.
From a collection of songs, 1640 to 1660. It is also to be found in the additional MSS., No. 11, 608, p. 54, in the collection in the British Museum. It was sung to the air of Love lies bleeding—and was, says Mr. Chappell, “the God save the King” of Charles I., Charles II., and James II.
What though the zealots pull down the prelates,
Push at the pulpit, and kick at the crown,
Shall we not never once more endeavour,
Strive to purchase our royall renown?
Shall not the Roundhead first be confounded?
Sa, sa, sa, say, boys, ha, ha, ha, ha, boys,
Then we’ll return with triumph and joy.
Then we’ll be merry, drink white wine and sherry,
Then we will sing, boys, God bless the King, boys,
Cast up our caps, and cry, Vive le Roy.
What though the wise make Alderman Isaac
Put us in prison and steal our estates,
Though we be forced to be unhorsed,
And walk on foot as it pleaseth the fates;
In the King’s army no man shall harm ye.
Then come along, boys, valiant and strong, boys,
Fight for your goods, which the Roundheads enjoy;
And when you venture London to enter,
And when you come, boys, with fife and drum, boys,
Isaac himself shall cry, Vive le Roy.
If you will choose them, do not refuse them,
Since honest Parliament never made thieves,
Charles will not further have rogues dipt in murder,
Neither by leases, long lives, nor reprieves.
’Tis the conditions and propositions
Will not be granted, then be not daunted,
We will our honest old customs enjoy;
Paul’s not rejected, will be respected,
And in the quier voices rise higher,
Thanks to the heavens, and (cry), Vive le Roy.
THE CAVALIER.
By Samuel Butler. From his Posthumous Works. A somewhat different version appears in Chappell’s Popular Music of the Olden Time.
He that is a clear
Cavalier
Will not repine,
Although
His pocket grow
So very low
He cannot get wine.
Fortune is a lass
Will embrace,
But soon destroy;
Born free,
In liberty
We’ll always be,
Singing Vive le Roy.
Virtue is its own reward,
And Fortune is a whore;
There’s none but knaves and fools regard her,
Or her power implore.
But he that is a trusty Roger, And will serve the King; Altho’ he be a tatter’d soldier, Yet may skip and sing: Whilst we that fight for love, May in the way of honour prove That they who make sport of us May come short of us; Fate will flatter them, And will scatter them; Whilst our loyalty Looks upon royalty, We that live peacefully, May be successfully Crown’d with a crown at last.
Tho’ a real honest man
May be quite undone,
He’ll show his allegiance,
Love, and obedience;
Those will raise him up,
Honour stays him up,
Virtue keeps him up,
And we praise him up.
Whilst the vain courtiers dine,
With their bottles full of wine,
Honour will make him fast.
Freely then
Let’s be honest men
And kick at fate,
For we may live to see
Our loyalty
Valued at a higher rate.
He that bears a sword
Or a word against the throne,
And does profanely prate
To abuse the state,
Hath no kindness for his own.
What tho’ painted plumes and prayers
Are the prosp’rous men,
Yet we’ll attend our own affairs
’Till they come to ’t agen;
Treachery may be faced with light,
And letchery lined with furr;
A cuckold may be made a knight,
Sing Fortune de la Guerre. But what’s that to us, brave boys, That are right honest men? We’ll conquer and come again, Beat up the drum again; Hey for Cavaliers, Hoe for Cavaliers, Drink for Cavaliers, Fight for Cavaliers, Dub-a-dub, dub-a-dub, Have at Old Beelzebub, Oliver stinks for fear.
Fifth Monarchy-men must down, boys, With bulleys of every sect in town, boys; We’ll rally and to ’t again, Give ’em the rout