'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.

Ballad: 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 la.s.s 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 wh.o.r.e; 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 again; Fly like light about, Face to the right-about, Charge them home again When they come on again; SING TANTARA RARA, BOYS, TANTARA RARA, BOYS, This is the life of an Old Cavalier.

Ballad: A Caveat To The Roundheads

From the Posthumous Works of Samuel Butler.

I come to charge ye That fight the clergy, And pull the mitre from the prelate's head, That you will be wary Lest you miscarry In all those factious humours you have bred; But as for BROWNISTS we'll have none, But take them all and hang them one by one.

Your wicked actions Join'd in factions Are all but aims to rob the King of his due; Then give this reason For your treason, That you'll be ruled, if he'll be ruled by you.

Then leave these factions, zealous brother, Lest you be hanged one against another.

Ballad: Hey, Then, Up Go We

This song, says Mr Chappell, in his Popular Music of the Olden Time, which describes with some humour the taste of the Puritans, might pa.s.s for a Puritan song, if it were not contained in the "Shepherds' Oracles," by Francis Quarles, 1646. He was cup-bearer to Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia, daughter of James I., and afterwards chronologer to the city of London. He died in 1644, and his Shepherds' Oracles were a posthumous publication. It was often reprinted during the Restoration, and reproduced and slightly altered by Thomas Durfey, in his "Pills to Purge Melancholy," where the burthen is, "Hey, boys, up go we."

Know this, my brethren, heaven is clear, And all the clouds are gone; The righteous man shall flourish now, Good days are coming on.

Then come, my brethren, and be glad, And eke rejoyce with me; Lawn sleeves and rochets shall go down, And hey, then, up go we.

We'll break the windows which the wh.o.r.e Of Babylon hath painted, And when the popish saints are down Then Barrow shall be sainted; There's neither cross nor crucifix Shall stand for men to see, Rome's trash and trumpery shall go down, And hey, then, up go we.

Whate'er the Popish hands have built Our hammers shall undo; We'll break their pipes and burn their copes, And pull down churches too; We'll exercise within the groves, And teach beneath a tree; We'll make a pulpit of a cask, And hey, then, up go we.

We'll put down Universities, Where learning is profest, Because they practise and maintain The language of the Beast; We'll drive the doctors out of doors, And all that learned be; We'll cry all arts and learning down, And hey, then, up go we.

We'll down with deans and prebends, too, And I rejoyce to tell ye We then shall get our fill of pig, And capons for the belly.

We'll burn the Fathers' weighty tomes, And make the School-men flee; We'll down with all that smells of wit, And hey, then, up go we.

If once the Antichristian crew Be crush'd and overthrown, We'll teach the n.o.bles how to stoop, And keep the gentry down: Good manners have an ill report, And turn to pride, we see, We'll therefore put good manners down, And hey, then, up go we.

The name of lords shall be abhorr'd, For every man's a brother; No reason why in Church and State One man should rule another; But when the change of government Shall set our fingers free, We'll make these wanton sisters stoop, And hey, then, up go we.

What though the King and Parliament Do not accord together, We have more cause to be content, This is our sunshine weather: For if that reason should take place, And they should once agree, Who would be in a Roundhead's case, For hey, then, up go we.

What should we do, then, in this case?

Let's put it to a venture; If that we hold out seven years' s.p.a.ce We'll sue out our indenture.

A time may come to make us rue, And time may set us free, Except the gallows claim his due, And hey, then, up go we.

Ballad: The Clean Contrary Way, Or, Colonel Venne's Encouragement To His Soldiers

To the air of "Hey, then, up go we." From a Collection of Loyal Songs written against the Rump Parliament.

Fight on, brave soldiers, for the cause, Fear not the Cavaliers; Their threat'nings are as senseless as Our jealousies and fears.

Tis you must perfect this great work, And all malignants slay; You must bring back the King again The clean contrary way.

'Tis for religion that you fight, And for the kingdom's good; By robbing churches, plundering them, And shedding guiltless blood.

Down with the orthodoxal train, All loyal subjects slay; When these are gone, we shall be blest The clean contrary way.

When CHARLES we have made bankrupt, Of power and crown bereft him, And all his loyal subjects slain, And none but rebels left him; When we have beggar'd all the land, And sent our trunks away, We'll make him then a glorious prince The clean contrary way.

'Tis to preserve his Majesty That we against him fight, Nor ever are we beaten back, Because our cause is right: If any make a scruple at Our Declarations, say, - Who fight for us, fight for the King The clean contrary way.

At KEINTON, BRAINSFORD, PLYMOUTH, YORK, And divers places more, What victories we saints obtain, The like ne'er seen before: How often we Prince RUPERT kill'd, And bravely won the day, The wicked Cavaliers did run The clean contrary way.

The true religion we maintain, The kingdom's peace and plenty; The privilege of Parliament Not known to one and twenty; The ancient fundamental laws, And teach men to obey Their lawful sovereign, and all these The clean contrary way.

We subjects' liberties preserve By imprisonment and plunder, And do enrich ourselves and state By keeping th' wicked under.

We must preserve mechanicks now To lectorize and pray; By them the gospel is advanced The clean contrary way.