The CAVALIER's Genius: Being a Proper New Ballad.  
To the Tune of, 'Ods bodikins I'll work no more, and forty other good Tunes.  

CH'ill tell thee Wat, ch'ave been at Court,  
Where I ch'ave seen most monstrous sport,  
'Twas like to break my Guts;  
For it did make me laugh full sore,  
I thought I ne'er should give o'er,  
'Twas better vat than Nuts.   

But like the Parson of our Town,  
(Although cham called a very Clown)  
In order I'll proceed,  
To let thee know, there is Vorme in't,  
And many a very pretty hint,  
May do some good at need.   

When virst into the Court I came,  
A sight did make mine Eyes grow lame,  
Warrant there I saw much people,  
Vamping upon the pitched Walk,  
With Chitter Chatter and much talk,  
Like Daws upon a Steeple.   

But as I stared and gaped about  
To ken a v'rend amongst the Rout;  
Prithee think who I voune!  
Why faith and trigs I'll tell thee truly,  
Thou mayst believe it to be no lie,  
'Twas the Biter of our Town.   

I mean the Mon cropped like a Freyer,  
That would not read the Common Preyer,  
Nor vorme unto the Church,  
Such as thou knowest God bless us all,  
Do gape for Reverend Bishops fall,  
And lie like Dogs at lurch.   

As soon as he did me espy,  
(For's Rochet I had in mine Eye)  
He came and did salout me:  
With Sparrow Mouth and hanging Ears,  
And Countenance made up of Flears,  
I thought the Beast did flout me.   

He asked me what I did make there,  
To come the Court about to stare,  
He vound it by my looks;  
Think what a twitter I was in,  
I thought a Courtier he had been,  
And kin unto our Rooks.   

But taking heart a Grass I spoke  
To him whose Neck was long as Snake,  
And eak his Ears also:  
Good Zur I hope it is no zin:  
I came to see and to be zeen,  
And would before I go.   

Why then quoth he pray understand,  
And mark the motion of my Hand,  
For here I do begin:  
And first these Walking Statues are  
Men quite undone by the late War,  
And brought so low for sin.   

Their constant Walk is in this place,  
With Ragged Coats and Meagre Face,  
To get employment here;  
But faith quoth he they are mistaken,  
For by ourselves the Vish is taken,  
And then he 'gan to flear.   

Why, Goodman Parson, than quoth I,  
(And then I drew to him full nigh)  
Pray what d'y call these men?  
Why then quoth he they're Cavaliers,  
That fain would get their old Arrears,  
(And then he fleered again.)   

Why Mon (quoth I) methinks that you  
Their company should much eschew,  
C have heard you do not love 'em;  
No, no, quoth he, although do spiten,  
Their discontents I strive to heigten,  
And hope one day to prove 'em.   

Why (Goodman Parson) then quoth I,  
This is not right most verily,  
You should to Peace afford:  
Indeed, quoth he, I hate the same,  
I love to see all in a flame,  
And Men fall by the Sword.   

It is the way to redeem the Cause,  
And set up Covenanting Laws,  
Destroy the King and People;  
To turn the Bishops out of doors,  
To bring in any (nay the Moors)  
And pluck down Church and Steeple.   

For leisure now to us is given  
To make our scores with these men even,  
We walk in Sheep's disguise;  
We neither Preach, nor Pray, nor Fight,  
But Plot as silent as the night,  
And turn up White o' th' Eyes.   

If that we chance to break a Law,  
We value it not worth a straw,  
Our Party is most daring:  
If that we're into Prison put,  
We neither want for Purse or Gut,  
The Sisters are not sparing.   

For Instance I will to thee tell  
What to a Brother late befell,  
For holding forth in sport:  
He was in Newgate put indeed,  
From thence releaseed with as much speed,  
And went and dined at Court.   

If thou hast Money to bestow,  
Let me but thy desires know,  
Much can be done by me:  
For Brethren I have plenty here,  
Who makes for me most excellent Cheer,  
As I will let thee see.   

At last I saw a Man come in,  
Methought he looked very thin,  
And he portended haste;  
I asked him what this Man might be,  
Who seemed as busy as a Bee,  
With Sword about his waste.   

That Man, quoth he, served the late King,  
And acted many a gallant thing  
Against his Foes so fell;  
But now it seems that all is spent,  
And he doth stink like Fish in Lent,  
And cannot eat at Hell.   

Another presently I saw,  
That many to himself did draw,  
And eager was in's talk:  
Pray Zur, quo I, what is that Man  
With Papers many in his han,  
Who stately there doth stalk?   

Quoth he, he was a Man of late  
Of Wealth sufficient, and much State,  
But all was spent i' th' Wars;  
And now a Patent he hath got  
Old Shoes and Boots for to Transport,  
A Reward for all his Scars.   

Another than he showed to me,  
And bid me earnestly to see,  
And note him for a Wight;  
He told me 'twas a strong Projector,  
One that had served the late Protector,  
But now was made a Knight.   

A pale-faced Fellow than came in,  
That looked like one of our lean Kine,  
And stuttered like a Prater:  
He told me that that zealous Trunk  
Did curse the coming in of Monk,  
For u● stood for Sequestrator.   

But he ●●d tell me, he had got  
His feeding in a fatted Plot,  
And had no cause to grudge:  
And nimbly shifted had his Veil,  
And had abandoned the Tail,  
And now did serve a Judge.   

He told me then he could relate  
To me, of many in the State,  
That had crept into place;  
And that they were the Brethren's Men,  
That longed to see the time as when  
Old L●●●●al kept the Mace.   

And thus you see our Cause does thrive,  
And we are Men yet still alive,  
And swell in Court and City:  
And can on good occasion call  
Our Congregators to Whitehall,  
And cut throats without pity.   

At length the Clock struck Twelve, and I  
Immediately the Men did spy  
Walking out of the Gate:  
(Quoth I) methinks these Men should eat  
At Court (if there be any Meat)  
For Cheeks methinks do bate.   

No, no, (quoth he) theyare well paid,  
When they their Congees all have made  
Unto the ominous Dial,  
No Provender her's to be got,  
For English, Irish, or for Scot,  
Unless they pay th' Espial.   

And that's impossible to do,  
When to four Feet they han't one Shoe,  
Or penny 'mongst them all:  
Let 'em go dine at Humphrey's Table,  
And pick their Teeth (if they are able)  
No meat is at Whitehall.   

Thinking myself as bad as they,  
That nothing had for meat to pay;  
I made my Country Scrape;  
With full intent to go from Court,  
But he to me did straight resort,  
And thus to me did Gape;   

Give ho! (old Neighbour) pray come back,  
And drink with me a cup of Sack,  
And eat with me also:  
For though I'm from your Parish put,  
This House my Purse doth fill, and Gut;  
Sing Biters all a-row.   

Immediately he led me in,  
And through his Chamber, like an Inn  
Vor store of meat was there;  
Of Meat of all sorts, and of Vishes  
Well dressed and laid in Zilvern dishes;  
'Ods digs 'twas Christmas Vare.   

After that he a Grace had said  
As long as is from hence to Head-  
lebourghs Church or Steeple.  
He bid us to sit down and eat  
With plenty of that excellent meat  
Prepared for Good's People.   

And I among the rest sat down  
To Table that was very room,  
Well Vurnished with meat;  
With Needle-teeths, and Post-boys speed,  
We clawed it all away indeed,  
Good God how we did eat!   

At length we paused a while, and then  
One of those Crop-eared silenced men  
Begun a health about;  
And 'twas unto the Brethren all,  
That for the Cause did lately fall,  
And now were turned out.   

Much more was going to be said:  
But one amongst 'em jowled his head  
To them was going to say it;  
Hist, Brethren, hist, your mouth's up close,  
Though we won't talk under the Rose,  
With thinking let us pay it.   

The Cups flew merrily about  
Among the Zealous Prick-eared Rout,  
They stared and glowed like Bulls:  
If any were by drink overtaken,  
(I swear by the Head of Friar Bacon)  
They were all as drunk as Trulls.   

When I perceived their Zeal at height,  
And they began to utter spite-  
full things against the King:  
I bid their Saintships all adieu,  
And trotted from that Rebel Crew,  
And out of Gates did Ding.   

And walking down the Street called Kings,  
From Chandler's shop I spied some Vrends  
That Stout and Loyal was:  
Before them Herrings stood and Ale,  
And Loaf halfpenny worth full pale,  
They fed like Cow at Grass.   

Good-natured men! they called me in  
Thinking that belly-starved I'd been,  
And spoke so me to eat;  
I told them Presbyterian Vare  
Was vat, and Commons there were bare,  
I came from better meat.   

Good souls! they grieved my very heart,  
And made my very entrails smart,  
To see them brought so low;  
With them I spent a round old Shilling,  
They did receve it (though unwilling)  
And from them straight did go.   

But now to you Presbyting john's,  
With Bloody Souls, and Lily Hands,  
I'll never love you more;  
Warrant I do think the Pope's good Grace,  
In all that's good, of you takes place,  
Although you call him Whore,   

Warrant he refused to fight 'gainst King,  
When Pulpits did Rebellion Ring,  
Though offered Toleration:  
And you, 'tis known, with purer zeal,  
Do hate the King and Common-weal,  
Unless of your own fashion.   

Now Wat, I think c have told thou All  
That in my Journey did befall,  
C have nothing more to say.  
But pray to bless the King and Queen,  
And that in England may be seen  
A Princely Bonny Boy.   
FINIS.