This and the following ballad, from the King’s Pamphlets, British Museum,
express the discontent of the Cavaliers at the ingratitude of King
Charles to the old supporters of the fortunes of his family.—(March 15th,
1660.)
To the tune of “I tell thee, Dick.”
COME, Jack, let’s drink a pot of ale,
And I shall tell thee such a tale
Will make thine ears to ring;
My coyne is spent, my time is lost,
And I this only fruit can boast,
That once I saw my King.
But this doth most afflict my mind:
I went to Court in hope to find
Some of my friends in place;
And walking there, I had a sight
Of all the crew, but, by this light!
I hardly knew one face.
’S’life! of so many noble sparkes,
Who on their bodies bear the markes
Of their integritie;
And suffer’d ruine of estate,
It was my damn’d unhappy fate
That I not one could see.
Not one, upon my life, among
My old acquaintance all along
At Truro and before;
And I suppose the place can show
As few of those whom thou didst know
At Yorke or Marston-moore.
But truly there are swarmes of those
Who lately were our chiefest foes,
Of pantaloons and muffes;
Whilst the old rusty Cavaleer
Retires, or dares not once appear,
For want of coyne and cuffes.
When none of these I could descry,
Who better far deserv’d then I,
Calmely I did reflect;
“Old services (by rule of State)
Like almanacks grow out of date,—
What then can I expect?”
Troth! in contempt of Fortune’s frown,
I’ll get me fairly out of town,
And in a cloyster pray;
That since the starres are yet unkind
To Royalists, the King may find
More faithfull friends than they.