The Royal Farewel:
Or, a Conference between Their present Majesties
King William & Queen Mary
On Their Parting, when the KING took his Leave, in order for the Irish Expedition.
Tune, Let Caesar live long. Licensed according to Order.
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King.
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MY Dearest, to Ireland with speed I must go,
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To Conquer Great Britains implacable Foe;
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Then rest you contented, till I Sail the Main,
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And crowned with triumph I'll see you again,
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Of Papists and Rebels, to Conquer a crew,
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I quickly must go now, and bid you adieu.
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Queen.
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How can you, in sorrow, thus leave me behind,
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Depriv'd of your Company, troubled in mind?
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Then pray be contented, and stay still with Me,
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To shun all the Dangers of Land and of Sea;
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I cannot, I will not be parted from YOU;
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Then be not so cruel to bid Me adieu.
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King.
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Pray rest now contented, for needs I must go;
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The Peace of the Kingdom will have it be so:
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The Power of the Government is in your hand;
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And every true Subject is at your command:
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Then dearest and loving, both real and true,
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I must of necessity bid you adieu.
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Queen.
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Distractions, in City and Country, may rise,
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With Uproars & Rumours, false Stories & Lyes;
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A Woman's soon daunted, and when You are gone,
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Your Wit will be wanted, and I be undone;
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Then cannot be pleased to part with you so,
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To Conquer the Irish, or any such foe.
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King.
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For Britain & Ireland I haz[ards] have run;
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When their Church & their Store were almost undone
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And now I, in spite of old Babylon's Whore,
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Their Laws and their Liberties hope to restore.
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I'm sorry and greived to part with You too;
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But must, of necessity, bid You adieu.
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Queen.
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The Plots, and the Battles, by Sea and by Land,
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With many Misfortunes, which none can withstand
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And all the great dangers, which You undergo,
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Will tend to my sorrow, and turn to my woe:
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Then do not Encounter with Babylons crew,
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Nor think upon biding your Dearest Adieu.
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King.
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When Cannons do rore, and Bullets do flye;
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Who honour would win, must not fear to [to] dye
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Your words, and your sorrow, your sighs and your greif,
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They add to my trouble, but give no relief:
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Then do not my passion, but sighing renew,
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But suffer Me, freely, to bid You Adieu.
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Queen.
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My Sex, it is fearful, and quickly cast down;
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And many sad troubles lye under a Crown;
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Distractions and Contests at home and abroad,
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which are, for a Woman, too heavy a load:
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Then of your departing, I cannot allow,
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Nor can I endure YOU to speak of Adieu
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King.
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Do not more perswade me, but live still content;
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There's nothing that can now my going prevent:
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And tho' You be one of the female kind;
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There's nothing hard to a Couragious Mind.
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My Dearest Grive not, for I know what I do,
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And must (tho' I'm sorry) now bid you Adieu.
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Then sighing, the Queen in his arms he did take,
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Whose heart was, with sorrow, then ready to break:
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He kiss'd her, whilst She, that was modest & meek
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Dropt Pearls, that clouded the Skys of her Cheek.
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Then both, at Their parting, their Passions renew
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And, with a sad Sigh, bad each Other Adieu.
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