?

Log in

No account? Create an account

snorri_di

Cavalier Songs

« previous entry | next entry »
Jul. 29th, 2008 | 11:10 am
music: J.-B. Lully - Passacailles

Ballad: When The King Enjoys His Own Again
By Martin Parker, 1647

What BOOKER doth prognosticate
Concerning kings' or kingdoms' fate?
I think myself to be as wise
As he that gazeth on the skies;
My skill goes beyond the depth of a POND,
Or RIVERS in the greatest rain,
Thereby I can tell all things will be well
When the King enjoys his own again.

There's neither SWALLOW, DOVE, nor DADE,
Can soar more high, or deeper wade,
Nor show a reason from the stars
What causeth peace or civil wars;
The Man in the Moon may wear out his shoon
By running after Charles his wain:
But all's to no end, for the times will not mend
Till the King enjoys his own again.

Though for a time we see Whitehall
With cobwebs hanging on the wall
Instead of silk and silver brave,
Which formerly it used to have,
With rich perfume in every room, -
Delightful to that princely train,
Which again you shall see, when the time it shall be,
That the King enjoys his own again.

Full forty years the royal crown
Hath been his father's and his own;
And is there any one but he
That in the same should sharer be?
For who better may the sceptre sway
Than he that hath such right to reign?
Then let's hope for a peace, for the wars will not cease
Till the King enjoys his own again.

[Did WALKER no predictions lack
In Hammond's bloody almanack?
Foretelling things that would ensue,
That all proves right, if lies be true;
But why should not he the pillory foresee,
Wherein poor Toby once was ta'en?
And also foreknow to the gallows he must go
When the King enjoys his own again?]

Till then upon Ararat's hill
My hope shall cast her anchor still,
Until I see some peaceful dove
Bring home the branch I dearly love;
Then will I wait till the waters abate
Which now disturb my troubled brain,
Else never rejoice till I hear the voice
That the King enjoys his own again.



Ballad: When The King Comes Home In Peace Again

Oxford and Cambridge shall agree,
With honour crown'd, and dignity;
For learned men shall then take place,
And bad be silenced with disgrace:
They'll know it to be but a casualty
That hath so long disturb'd their brain;
For I can surely tell that all things will go well
When the King comes home in peace again.

Church government shall settled be,
And then I hope we shall agree
Without their help, whose high-brain'd zeal
Hath long disturb'd the common weal;
Greed out of date, and cobblers that do prate
Of wars that still disturb their brain;
The which you will see, when the time it shall be
That the King comes home in peace again.

Though many now are much in debt,
And many shops are to be let,
A golden time is drawing near,
Men shops shall take to hold their ware;
And then all our trade shall flourishing be made,
To which ere long we shall attain;
For still I can tell all things will be well
When the King comes home in peace again.

Maidens shall enjoy their mates,
And honest men their lost estates;
Women shall have what they do lack,
Their husbands, who are coming back.
When the wars have an end, then I and my friend
All subjects' freedom shall obtain;
By which I can tell all things will be well
When we enjoy sweet peace again.

Though people now walk in great fear
Along the country everywhere,
Thieves shall then tremble at the law,
And justice shall keep them in awe:
The Frenchies shall flee with their treacherie,
And the foes of the King ashamed remain:
The which you shall see when the time it shall be
That the King comes home in peace again.

The Parliament must willing be
That all the world may plainly see
How they do labour still for peace,
That now these bloody wars may cease;
For they will gladly spend their lives to defend
The King in all his right to reign:
So then I can tell all things will be well
When we enjoy sweet peace again.

When all these things to pass shall come
Then farewell Musket, Pick, and Drum,
The Lamb shall with the Lion feed,
Which were a happy time indeed.
O let us pray we may all see the day
That peace may govern in his name,
For then I can tell all things will be well
When the King comes home in peace again.



Ballad: I Love My King And Country Well
From Songs and other Poems by Alex. Brome, Gent. Published London 1664; written 1645.

I love my King and country well,
Religion and the laws;
Which I'm mad at the heart that e'er we did sell
To buy the good old cause.
These unnatural wars
And brotherly jars
Are no delight or joy to me;
But it is my desire
That the wars should expire,
And the King and his realms agree.

I never yet did take up arms,
And yet I dare to dye;
But I'll not be seduced by phanatical charms
Till I know a reason why.
Why the King and the state
Should fall to debate
I ne'er could yet a reason see,
But I find many one
Why the wars should be done,
And the King and his realms agree.

I love the King and the Parliament,
But I love them both together:
And when they by division asunder are rent,
I know 'tis good for neither.
Whichsoe'er of those
Be victorious,
I'm sure for us no good 'twill be,
For our plagues will increase
Unless we have peace,
And the King and his realms agree.

The King without them can't long stand,
Nor they without the King;
'Tis they must advise, and 'tis he must command,
For their power from his must spring.
'Tis a comfortless sway
When none will obey;
If the King han't his right, which way shall we?
They may vote and make laws,
But no good they will cause
Till the King and his realm agree.

A pure religion I would have,
Not mixt with human wit;
And I cannot endure that each ignorant knave
Should dare to meddle with it.
The tricks of the law
I would fain withdraw,
That it may be alike to each degree:
And I fain would have such
As do meddle so much,
With the King and the church agree.

We have pray'd and pray'd that the wars might cease,
And we be free men made;
I would fight, if my fighting would bring any peace,
But war is become a trade.
Our servants did ride
With swords by their side,
And made their masters footmen be;
But we'll be no more slaves
To the beggars and knaves
Now the King and the realms do agree.



Ballad: The Royalist
By Alex. Brome. Written 1646.


Come pass about the bowl to me,
A health to our distressed King;
Though we're in hold let cups go free,
Birds in a cage may freely sing.
The ground does tipple healths afar
When storms do fall, and shall not we?
A sorrow dares not show its face
When we are ships, and sack's the sea.

Pox on this grief, hang wealth, let's sing;
Shall's kill ourselves for fear of death?
We'll live by th' air which songs do bring,
Our sighing does but waste our breath.
Then let us not be discontent,
Nor drink a glass the less of wine;
In vain they'll think their plagues are spent
When once they see we don't repine.

We do not suffer here alone,
Though we are beggar'd, so's the King;
'Tis sin t' have wealth when he has none,
Tush! poverty's a royal thing!
When we are larded well with drink,
Our head shall turn as round as theirs,
Our feet shall rise, our bodies sink
Clean down the wind like Cavaliers.

Fill this unnatural quart with sack,
Nature all vacuums doth decline;
Ourselves will be a zodiac,
And every mouth shall be a sign.
Methinks the travels of the glass
Are circular, like Plato's year;
Where everything is as it was
Let's tipple round: and so 'tis here.



Ballad: A Mad World, My Masters
From the King's pamphlets, British Museum.


We have a King, and yet no King,
For he hath lost his power;
For 'gainst his will his subjects are
Imprison'd in the Tower.

We had some laws (but now no laws)
By which he held his crown;
And we had estates and liberties,
But now they're voted down.

We had religion, but of late
That's beaten down with clubs;
Whilst that profaneness authorized
Is belched forth in tubs.

We were free subjects born, but now
We are by force made slaves,
By some whom we did count our friends,
But in the end proved knaves.

And now to such a grievous height
Are our misfortunes grown,
That our estates are took away
By tricks before ne'er known.

For there are agents sent abroad
Most humbly for to crave
Our alms; but if they are denied,
And of us nothing have,

Then by a vote EX TEMPORE
We are to prison sent,
Mark'd with the name of enemy,
To King and Parliament:

And during our imprisonment,
Their lawless bulls do plunder
A license to their soldiers,
Our houses for to plunder.

And if their hounds do chance to smell
A man whose fortunes are
Of some account, whose purse is full,
Which now is somewhat rare;

A MONSTER now, DELINQUENT term'd,
He is declared to be,
And that his lands, as well as goods,
Sequester'd ought to be.

As if our prisons were too good,
He is to Yarmouth sent,
By virtue of a warrant from
The King and Parliament.

Thus in our royal sovereign's name,
And eke his power infused,
And by the virtue of the same,
He and all his abused.

For by this means his castles now
Are in the power of those
Who treach'rously, with might and main,
Do strive him to depose.

Arise, therefore, brave British men,
Fight for your King and State,
Against those trait'rous men that strive
This realm to ruinate.

'Tis Pym, 'tis Pym and his colleagues,
That did our woe engender;
Nought but their lives can end our woes,
And us in safety render.



Ballad: Vive Le Roy
From a collection of songs, 1640 to 1660.


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.



Ballad: The Cavalier
By Samuel Butler. From his Posthumous Works.


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 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: Upon His Majesty's Coming To Holmby

Hold out, brave Charles, and thou shaft win the field;
Thou canst not lose thyself, unless thou yield
On such conditions as will force thy hand
To give away thy sceptre, crown, and land.
And what is worse, to hazard by thy fall,
To lose a greater crown, more worth than all.

Thy poor distressed Cavaliers rejoyced
To hear thy royal resolution voiced,
And are content far more poor to be
Than yet they are, so it reflects from thee.
Thou art our sovereign still, in spite of hate;
Our zeal is to thy PERSON, not thy STATE.

We are not so ambitious to desire
Our drooping fortunes to be mounted higher,
And thou so great a monarch, to our grief,
Must sue unto thy subjects for relief:
And when they sit and long debate about it,
Must either stay their time, or go without it.

No, sacred prince, thy friends esteem thee more
In thy distresses than ere they did before;
And though their wings be clipt, their wishes fly
To heaven by millions, for a fresh supply.
That as thy cause was so betray'd by MEN,
It may by ANGELS be restored agen.



Антонис Ван Дейк. Портрет Карла I, 1636

Link | Leave a comment | Share

Comments {21}

kamilla_de_b_t

(no subject)

from: kamilla_de_b_t
date: Jul. 29th, 2008 10:23 am (UTC)
Link

Прелестно! Еще бы музыку к этим кричалкам...

Reply | Thread

antoin

(no subject)

from: antoin
date: Jul. 29th, 2008 11:39 am (UTC)
Link

без мелодии как-то плохо читаются

Reply | Thread

Сноррь

(no subject)

from: snorri_di
date: Jul. 30th, 2008 12:27 am (UTC)
Link

Увы, не нашла ни малейшего намека на музыку :-(

Reply | Parent | Thread

(Deleted comment)

Сноррь

Re: Oliver stinks, однозначно!!!!!

from: snorri_di
date: Jul. 30th, 2008 12:30 am (UTC)
Link

Да нет, здесь впору вспоминать сэра Николаса ;-)

Reply | Parent | Thread

(Deleted comment)

Сноррь

Re: Oliver stinks, однозначно!!!!!

from: snorri_di
date: Jul. 30th, 2008 10:58 am (UTC)
Link

Вот только давай без обидных сравнений!

Reply | Parent | Thread

(Deleted comment)

Сноррь

Re: Oliver stinks, однозначно!!!!!

from: snorri_di
date: Jul. 30th, 2008 11:15 am (UTC)
Link

Только случилось, почему-то, лишь с мистером Брутананадилевски...

Reply | Parent | Thread

(Deleted comment)

Сноррь

Re: Oliver stinks, однозначно!!!!!

from: snorri_di
date: Jul. 30th, 2008 12:07 pm (UTC)
Link

Ты хочешь его пожалеть?

Reply | Parent | Thread

(Deleted comment)

Сноррь

Re: Oliver stinks, однозначно!!!!!

from: snorri_di
date: Aug. 5th, 2008 12:53 pm (UTC)
Link

Наверное, Адриану Хили. Они к нему не приставали :-)))

Reply | Parent | Thread

(Deleted comment)

Сноррь

Re: Oliver stinks, однозначно!!!!!

from: snorri_di
date: Aug. 14th, 2008 12:14 pm (UTC)
Link

А, ну да. Его жизненная позиция активизировалась от сала.
*осенило* Он был украинец!

Reply | Parent | Thread

(Deleted comment)

Сноррь

Re: Oliver stinks, однозначно!!!!!

from: snorri_di
date: Sep. 7th, 2008 06:26 pm (UTC)
Link

А почему ты так уверенно об этом заявляешь? А, поняла. Ты не к Волошину ездила, а выполняла секретную миссию по выявлению в Крыму единомышленником Стивена Фрая.

Reply | Parent | Thread

(Deleted comment)

Сноррь

Re: Oliver stinks, однозначно!!!!!

from: snorri_di
date: Sep. 12th, 2008 09:01 am (UTC)
Link

Теперь на очереди Германия.
Говорят, там рассадник... В общем, свое задание ты поняла, агент 001!

Reply | Parent | Thread

(Deleted comment)

Сноррь

Re: Oliver stinks, однозначно!!!!!

from: snorri_di
date: Sep. 17th, 2008 07:19 am (UTC)
Link

Как звучит: "товарищ АХ" :-)))
Ты там смотри, не балуй слишком сильно. У него ведь наверняка есть жена, дети... Он таки не сможет устоть перед Олищем.

Reply | Parent | Thread

(Deleted comment)

Сноррь

Re: Oliver stinks, однозначно!!!!!

from: snorri_di
date: Sep. 18th, 2008 10:43 pm (UTC)
Link

Нда. Прямо-таки хиппи какой-то!

Reply | Parent | Thread

(Deleted comment)

Сноррь

Re: Oliver stinks, однозначно!!!!!

from: snorri_di
date: Sep. 21st, 2008 06:25 pm (UTC)
Link

Понравился, конечно.
Ты ж знаешь, что я таких люблю, больших, толстых и красивых :-)))))))))

Reply | Parent | Thread

(Deleted comment)

Сноррь

Re: Oliver stinks, однозначно!!!!!

from: snorri_di
date: Sep. 24th, 2008 12:51 pm (UTC)
Link

То-то же. А то все над бедным Динищем смеялись...

Reply | Parent | Thread

memento_mary

(no subject)

from: memento_mary
date: Aug. 2nd, 2008 11:03 pm (UTC)
Link

Then we'll be merry, drink white wine and sherry
Ну правильно, а то при Оливере скучно.

Full forty years the royal crown
Hath been his father's and his own

Ага, точно. Особенно в момент сидения в густых ветвях Королевского дуба.

Вообще песни поражают своей наивной и, похоже, искренней верой в тождество "монархия=справедливость" и в Good old Cause, в описании авторов больше похожий на какое-то идеальное царствие небесное.

Reply | Thread

Сноррь

(no subject)

from: snorri_di
date: Aug. 4th, 2008 09:36 am (UTC)
Link

*коварно* А если бы это были песни оранжистов? ;-)))

Reply | Parent | Thread

memento_mary

(no subject)

from: memento_mary
date: Aug. 4th, 2008 10:33 am (UTC)
Link

Ну что у оранжистов с головкой бо-бо, это давно известно :)))
Хотя песни у них смешные, не отнять :)
King Billy on the wall, гы.

Reply | Parent | Thread

Сноррь

(no subject)

from: snorri_di
date: Aug. 5th, 2008 12:00 pm (UTC)
Link

А что это он на стену забрался?

Reply | Parent | Thread

memento_mary

(no subject)

from: memento_mary
date: Aug. 6th, 2008 12:22 am (UTC)
Link

А что это он на стену забрался?
По типу Шалтая-Болтая? :)))

Reply | Parent | Thread

Сноррь

(no subject)

from: snorri_di
date: Aug. 6th, 2008 07:07 am (UTC)
Link

Эта мысль первая пришла мне в голову :-)))

Reply | Parent | Thread