The last News from France.  
Being a true Relation of the escape of the King of Scots from Worcester to London, and from London to France, who was conveyed away by a young Gentleman in woman's apparel: The King of Scots attending on this supposed Gentlewoman in manner of a Servingman.  
The tune is, When the King enjoys his own again.  
 
 

ALL you that do desire to know  
what is become of the King of Scots  
I unto you will truly show,  
after the fight of the Northern Rats  
'twas I did convey  
His Highness away,  
And from all dangers set him free,  
In woman's attire,  
As reason did require  
And the King himself did wait on me.   

He of me a service did crave,  
and offer-times to me stood bear,  
In woman's apparel he was most brave  
and on his chin he had no hare,  
Where ever I came  
My speeches did frame,  
So well my Waiting-man to free,  
The like was never know,  
I think by any one.  
For the King etc.   

My Waiting man a I well had,  
Which I for want o● Money sold,  
Because my Fortune was so bad,  
we turned our jewel into Gold,  
A good shift indeed,  
In time of our need.  
Then glad was I and glad was be,  
Dur cause it did advance.  
Until we came to France,  
And the King, etc.   

We walked through Westminster-hall,  
where Law and justice doth take place  
Dur grief was great our comfort small,  
we looked grim death all in the face.  
I looked round about,  
And made no other doubt.  
But I and my man should taken be.  
The people little knew.  
As I may tell to you.  
That the King himself did wait on me.   
 

FRom thence we went to the fatal place  
where his Father lost his life.  
And there my man did weep apace.  
and sorrow with him than was life.  
I bid him peace.  
Let sorrow cease.  
For fear that we should taken be.  
The gallants is in Wh●teahll.  
Did little know at all.  
That the King himself did wait on me.   

The King he was my Servingman,  
and thus the plot we did contrive,  
I went by the name of Mistress Ann  
when we took water at Queen hive,  
A boat there we took,  
And London forsook.  
And now in France arrived are we,  
We got away by stealth,  
And the King is in good health,  
And he shall no longer wait on me.   

The King of Denmark's dead they say,  
than Charles is like to rule the Land,  
In France he will no longer stay  
as I do rightly understand.  
That Land is his due  
If they be but true.  
And he wi●h them do well agree,  
I heard a Bird sing.  
If he be once their King,  
my man will then my Master be.   

Now heaven grant them better success  
with their young King then England had  
Free from war and from distress,  
their Fortune may not be so bad.  
Since the case thus stands  
Let neighbouring Lands  
Lay down their arms and at quiet be  
But as for my part  
I'm glad withal my heart  
That my man must now my Master be.   

And thus I have declared to you  
by wha● means we escaped away  
Now we bid our cares adieu  
though the King did lose the day  
To him I was true,  
And that well he knew  
'tis God that must his comfort be  
else all our policy  
had been but foolery  
For the King no longer waits on me.    

Printed for W. Gilbertson.