Monmouth Routed, and taken PRISONER, With his Pimp the Lord Grace. A SONG  
To the Tune of King James' Jig.  

I.  
FIve thousand Pound for James the Scot,  
That squeezed out the Garbage and Guts of the Plot,  
The Roaring Cannons did fright him away,  
Yet Lumley secured his Pimp the Lord Grace;  
Ferguson with his Preaching Tools,  
Was fairly Killed with his Knaves and Fools,  
King James will show them who 'tis that Rules,  
While the Whigs look as Muddy as Midnight Owls.   

II.  
Brave Feversham, and Grafton did stand,  
And Eagle-eyed Oglethorp's worthy Command;  
He ' spied the Rebels like Thiefs draw near,  
At One in the Morning, ere Day did appear;  
Yet all was in readiness took the Alarms,  
The Word was given to Arms, to Arms:  
The Cannons sweet Music, the Soldiers charms  
Whilst Mars was Assistant 'gainst Rebels and harms.   

III.  
Brave Albamarle lay fair for their Flight,  
And Beausord in Bristol scoured the Kings Right:  
As soon as ever the Day did appear,  
Brave Pembroke fell foul o'th' Rout in the Rear,  
Then began the stress of the Fray,  
Grace turned Tails, with his Horns made away:  
God Curse me quoth Grace; if longer I stay,  
I never before saw so Bloody a Day.   

iv  
Then Monmouth cried out, O Grace for my Life  
Stand by me this Brunt and I'll Kiss thy Wife,  
Then Grace swore Damn me, thou'st made me a Beast,  
My Breeches are foul, I Run home to be dressed:  
The King's Army, both Horse and Foot,  
Fought through the Rebels through Fire and Blood  
And Cut down the Enemies, all that stood,  
Then Monmouth ran foremost, & thought it was good.   

V  
This was the success of our fine Fop-Things,  
That came for to conquer the greatest of Kings,  
Whose Commanders & Soldiers sooner would die  
In the Field of Honour than ever to fly:  
We all their Standards there did gain,  
And all their Cannons add to our Train,  
While our Army doth flourish upon the Plain,  
With Trophies of Honour, and lasting Fame.   

VI  
And now they are beating the Bushes to find,  
A King that left all his great Champions behind;  
Who Robed the Churches in three week's Reign,  
And Ravished Young Virgins within the same;  
Three Golden Bibles in his Flag,  
Three Hackney Whores and his running Nag,  
True Protestant Prince of which Presbyters brag  
Is catched under a Hedge in a lousy rag   

VII.  
A fair Conclusion o'th' King in the West,  
His Knights of the Garter installed in haste;  
Lord Keeper, and Secretaries of State,  
Made under a Hedge, at his Court without Gate;  
The George and Star without Crack or Fledge,  
To Fools not deserving a Porter's Badge;  
Like the King of the Gipsies, tuched Mall and Madge,  
At his Majesty's Court, given under a Hedge.   
FINIS   

LONDON; Printed for James Dean, Bookseller, between the Royal Grove. and the Helmet in Drury-Lane, 1685.