%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> C.R. In a Cloud. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 07/21/2021 36652

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

R210685 IT is no strange thing / To heare that the King British Library - Thomason Tracts Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 11: 99 C.R. In a Cloud. C.R. In a Cloud. ?-?

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction / health alcohol Americas animals / nature Bible / biblical figures buildings / architecture catastrophe children class clothing / appearance country / nation crime death economics / commerce entertainments family Featured folklore gender holidays / seasons infidelity labor / craft law London love maritime marriage military / war monstrosity mythology / Classical news nobility / court politics / government procreation punishment race / ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex / sexuality supernatural / magic travel trickery / deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth / age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 7/21/2021 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 7/21/2021 7:54:05 PM XBallad Windmiller, Lauren Created XML Version of Ballad 7/21/2021 7:54:05 PM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/21/2021 7:54:05 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/21/2021 7:54:05 PM Transcriptionist Two Al halabieh, Deena Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/21/2021 7:54:05 PM Transcriptionist One Raychawdhuri, Anita Transcription of ballad manuscript 2/27/2019 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
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IT is no strange thing To heare that the King Hath made his escapes; For Jove did the same, And got him a name (For shifting and Rapes.) What he did for Lust (For Jupiter must With a faire one sport.) King Charles did not doe, His Juno's no shrew, Hee's not gone to Court. No Danaes Power In a Brazen Tower Hath made him turn shower, You know well of old That he had no Gold, C.R. was too poore. Nor ever did low For Europa-Cow, And feed among Beasts, Nor deceiv'd the Heards In a Goatish Beard, So quaint he was drest. But he is retir'd, As he was desir'd For sweet Liberty. When every man claimes, And makes her his aimes, Won't you have Princes free? Away with such Knaves, Who Liberty craves, For their owne pure traines Yet would inviron Their King, and in Iron Binde him, and in chaines. We have heard in a manner Of the King and Tanner, But the King was first: But these Translators Of the State-matters, Make the King the worst. Instead of a Crowne, They'll pull him downe, As not fit for trust; Instead of God save, His life they will have, And's Honour ith' dust. Salt Peters, and Dell, You have preached well To your Auditory: This Doctrine you may Read in Loyola; Here's a fine story. Would any man thinke, The Agitators drinke Of the waters of Tiber? Or that Babylons whore Were Peters Paramour, Or Dells next Neighbour? Protestant God night, Welcome Jesuite, Welcome pretty Nuns, Our Daughters shall be Whores of Pietie, And Rebells our Sons.
Charles keep in thy Cloud, And there safe thee shrewd, Nor break, but as Day. The mid Region be Thy Artillerie, Where Clouds beare the sway. Peep a little from thence, And list to what sense Wee make of thy Letters, Every one doth think That great Caesars Inke, Never wrot better. And as for the matter, We cannot here flatter, The Royall Inditer, But say, as true 'tis, Thy Pen (as was his) Is of a ready Writer. We're sorry to see, That such Treacherie Should be in our Land; Or that anything Should force our good King To his running hand. His Letters he throwes, Like Parthian Arrowes, And Conquers flying. Ten thousand are sold, They'll never be old, New, new, news they're crying. D' you see, do you see, How the Presbyterie Joy their first named, The Assembly men prinke Up their Eares; I thinke They were neare maimed. But be not too cranke In the second ranke, The Independents Will look to your waters, And then follow after Th' Army their defendents. Satisfaction's next, To his party perplext, And gone to the Pot, 'Cause th' have adhered, And are to be feared, And even the Scot. Now marke his Lenvoy, And cry Vive-le-Roy; Can any thinke so, God will blesse those Peeres Who refuse to heare Their King? Surely no. As hee's Royall to all, So he Personall Is honest, and just, In his care you see For deliverie Of his Pictures in trust. There's none but a King, Could doe such a thing, Who is Princely bent, Truely to restore, (Who can doe any more? What the Ladies lend.
O most gallant Prince, Whose free Conscience, No evill shall clog, He does Whaly beseech, To send home the Grew Bitch, Before he will jog. And his deportment Shewes afore he went, Him a Gentleman much; Who would not neglect His civill respects To Whaly and such. So did he thinke fit, Mountague to greet. And's fellowes, whose fames Were good, and discourses And so were the horses, He sent his sonne James. His Letters all done, Away he is gone, And leaves these Papers, To be read in the night, (But not without light,) For by them was Tapers. Or if so before, They broke up the doore, To looke for C.R. The Tapers went out, In his Cloak without doubt, There was a bright starre. What wonders are here? Yet we doe not feare, High-minded and proud; Nor our sinnes revoke, Yet see Stars in a Cloak, And Kings in a Cloud. Now we're all at a gaze, To discover which wayes This Angell was gone, Where more him attend, God did his Guards send, And ease those at Hampton. God keep our C.R. From Martin-King-marre, And such evill sprights, Who have late brought in That cursed Doctrine, With their new-found lights. But thou blessed Isle, That preservest a while Thy King, be thou wise, Doe not thou betray, Nor open thy Bay, Nor suffer surprize. Our Isles shall be glad. The Isle of Wight had The keeping our Pan; And England wlll be In Unanimity. As the Isle of one Man.
FINIS. Printed in the Yeare MDCXLVII.