The Royal Wanderer:
OR,
Gods Providence evidently manifested, in the most mysterious Deliverance of the
Divine Majesty of CHARLS the Second, King of Great Brittain.
Though bold Rebellion for a time look brave,
Man shall not slay what God resolves to save.
To the Tune of, The wandring Prince of Troy, or, Troy town.
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WHen ravishing Rebellion reignes,
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Then Loyalty is lead in chaines,
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The Royall Princes of the blood,
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By Traitors are not understood,
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but they could not his fate pull down,
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that was preservd for Englands Crown.
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Witnesse the heat at Worcester fight,
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Which put our Royall King to flight,
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When twice a stately horse was there,
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Shot under him by chance of warre.
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but all that chance could not throw down
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a Prince preservd for Englands Crown.
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Yet was he forcd to quit the field,
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Princes sometimes to slaves must yeeld:
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He with some faithfull Lords did fly,
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To places for obscurity.
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And at a Farme-house there did he
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disrobe himself of Royaltie.
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A chain of Gold, whose good account
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Did to three hundred pounds amount,
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He gave a trusty servant, and
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Dischargd them all from his command.
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then the Lord Wilmot with their knives
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cut both their hair, to save their lives.
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Thus with one friend faithfull and good,
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He wanders through an obscure wood:
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Untill a hollow Oake unknown
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Was made the King of Englands Throne,
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and all the succour that was brought,
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was by this Loyall servant sought.
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But Wilmot in his wanderings,
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A Souldier met of the old Kings,
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That knew him, and with true good will,
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Securd him in a Malt-house Kill,
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where he lay sweating, almost fierd
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till Souldiers came, searchd, and retird.
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Twas nere the house of Mistresse Lane,
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Whose name let no wilde tongue prophane,
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The Lord, with dangers much distrest,
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Told how the poore King was opprest,
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to Mistresse Lane, whose sighs and tears,
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did shew her sorrows, griefs, and fears.
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She humbly doth implore that he,
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Would seek his sacred Majesty:
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And bring him thither, that she might
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Take speedy order for his flight.
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brave Wilmot he with eyes nere shut,
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till with much search he found him out.
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Then from the hollow tree he brings
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This heart of Oake, and best of Kings,
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To Mistresse Lanes, where after shee,
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Did kneel unto his Soveraignty:
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they call a counsill how he shoud,
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in safety passe the Ocean flood.
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The second part to the same Tune.
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BRistol was thought the privatst place,
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Where shipping might attend his Grace,
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And as her servant William he,
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Must cloak it in her Livery.
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likewise before her he must ride,
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only her father in Law beside.
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He was as weary of the Cloak,
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As he was lately of the Oake:
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But Master Lastell as most fit,
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Uncloakd the King and carryed it.
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no danger in the way they saw,
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untill they met her Brother in Law.
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The Brother spyd and quickly spoke,
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Sir, why bear you your servants cloak?
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But shee made answer, tis so great
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That it doth thrust me from my seat.
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her Brother (answered thus by art)
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they talk no more, shake hands and part.
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But note a change of more renown,
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As they were passing through a Town,
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They met a Troop of horse which might
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Have put them all into a fright.
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but their good fate so gentle was
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they through the Captains troop did passe.
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When they came to their Inne at night,
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The Cook-mayd gave the King delight,
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She asked his birth, and whence he came?
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A Naylors son in Brumageham
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replyd the King; prethee quoth shee
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my Jack is down, windt up for me.
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The King unusd to deal in Jacks,
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Winds up untill the tackling cracks:
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At which the wench (if all tales true be)
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Rayld at the King, and calld him booby.
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the King went out and laught, but they
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next day to Bristol made their way.
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At Bristol all their hopes were drownd,
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For no convenient ship was found:
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From Mistresse Lane he parts, and goes
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With trusty Wilmot mongst his foes.
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to London and to Westminster,
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ith Hall, where the Scotch Ensignes were
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He wandered up and down the Town,
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By some conceald, to most unknown:
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Twas not a thousand pound could make
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Them their fidelities forsake.
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a scip is hird, the Master straight
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begins to understand his fraight.
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Quoth he, what lading do you bring,
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I surely know this is the King.
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If I this strange adventure run.
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I shall be utterly undone.
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but with his heart they did prevail,
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and valiantly he hoysts up sayl.
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Quoth he, if I on Tiburn swing,
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Tis for the safety of a King:
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And if he ever crowned bee,
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He surely will remember me.
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the winds blew fair, Aver de grace
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in France became their landing place.
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He rides to Roan, and writes from thence
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To Paris, of Gods Providence.
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The Duke of Orleance did come
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With friends, to bid him welcome home.
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and now in London tis well known
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he was preservd for Englands Throne.
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