The Royall Oak: OR, The wonderfull travells, miraculous escapes, strange accidents of his sacred Majesty King Charles the Second.
How from Worcester fight by good hap, Our Royall King made an escape;
How he dis-rob'd himself of things that precious were,
And with a knife cut off his curled hair;
How a hollow Oak his palace was as then, And how King Charles became a serving-man
To the Tune of, in my freedom is all my Joy.
COme friends and unto me draw near
A sorrowfull dity you shall hear,
You that deny your lawfull Prince
Let Conscience now your faults convince,
And now in love and not in fear,
Now let his Presence be your joy,
whom God in mercy would not destroy
The relation that here I bring
Concerning Charles our Royall King,
Through what dangers he hath past
And is proclaimed King at last;
The Princes sorrows we will sing
Which the fates sorely did anoy
and God in mercy would not destroy.
After Worcester most fatall fight
When that King Charles was put flight,
When many men their lives laid down
To bring their Soveraign to the Crown,
The which was a most glorious sight;
Great was his Majesties convoy
whom God in mercy would not destroy.
In Worcester battle fierce and hot,
His horse twice under him was shot;
And by a wise and prudent thrift
To save his life was forc'd to shift,
Without difficulty it was not:
Providence did him safely convey
whom God in mercy would not destroy.
And being full of discontents
Stript off his Princely Ornaments,
Thus full of troubles and of cares,
A knife cut off his curled hairs,
Whereby the hunters he prevents:
God did in mercy him convoy
So that they could not him destroy.
A chain of gold he gave away
Worth thrée hundred pounds that day.
In this disguise by honest thrift
Command all for themselves to shift,
With one friend both night and day:
Poor Prince alone to Gods convoy
His foes they could not him destroy.
These two wandred into a Wood
Where a hollow Oak there stood,
And for his precious lives dear sake
Did of that Oak his palace make,
His friend towards night provided food,
So their precious lives the did enjoy
whom God in mercy would not destroy
Lord Willmot most valiant and stout;
He was pursued by the Rout,
Was hid in a fiery kiln of Mault
And so escaped the Souldiers assault,
Which searched all the house about,
Not dreaming the kiln was his convoy
which God in mercy would not destroy.
The Second Part,
To the same Tune.
ANd relates King Charles his miseries,
Which forces tears from tender eyes;
Mistrisse Lane entreats him earnestly,
For to find out his Majesty,
And him to save she would devise,
Vnto her house they him convoy,
Whom God, &c.
King Charles a livery Cloak more than,
And became a Servingman,
And Westward rode towards the Sea,
Intended transported to be,
And Mistrisse Lane now please he can,
Which was the Kings safest convoy,
Whom God, &c.
An accident of great renown,
As they were for to ride throw a Town,
A Troop of Horse stood crosse the stréet;
Then jealousie the King did gréet,
And Fortune seem'd on him to frown,
He thought the Fates would him annoy,
Whom God in mercy, &c.
The Captain commanded his men,
To th' Right and Left to open then,
For harmlesse Travellers he them did take
And an intervall for them did make,
And so they passed on again
Vnto King Charles's no small joy.
Whom God, &c.
His Mistresse coming to her In
Left William her man in the Kitchin;
The Cook maid askt where he was born,
And what Trade that he did learn:
To frame his excuse he did begin,
Thus his sorrow was turnd to joy,
Whom God, &c.
To answer mild he thus begun,
At Brumigam a Nailers son:
Then said the maid the Iack stands still,
Pray wind it up if that you will,
Which he did, suspition to shun,
And somewhat did the same annoy,
Yet did not the same quite destroy.
As those that were by do say
He went about it the wrong way,
Which angred the Maid the same to sée.
She call'd him a clownish Boobée
In all my life that ever I saw;
Her railing caus'd him laugh for joy.
Whom God, &c.
After many wéeks in jeopardy,
He was wasted into Normandy,
The God of Heaven for his person ca [...]'d,
The Ship-Master had a great reward.
Thus the good Prince from hence did fly [...],
To suffer hardship he was not coy.
Which now will be this nations joy.
FINIS.
J. W.
London, Printed for Charles Tyus on London-Bridge.