them, but durst not; and there was an end of the business;
only at parting it seems they called him Cuckold to his face,
and threatn'd to have him brought to an Account for that
Money he had cheated the Country of.
King Charles hath left Saint Germans, and is come into the
Isle of Garnsy, and from thence is for Ireland; a Fleet of Fifty
Ships is to go with him, and about 8000 gallant try'd Souldiers
of the Duke of Lorrains.
A flying News is, That Coot is Revolted, and London-Derry
stands for the King: Another, That Cromwel is totally Rowted.
I pray God either be but true: questionless one Fight will
strike All one way or the other; I hope to the Right: the Action
sure is ere this past; and if it had gone well with them, there
had been joy without measure, and a Thanksgiving Ordered;
but for certain they stink at the stake, & know not what to do.
From Oxford there is gallant News of the Noble Levellers,
that Horse and Foot come in day night in very great numbers
to them: they have chosen new Agitators, Col. Lilburn
Reported to be one: Plymouth and some other Garrison are
said to be Revolted from the Parliament, and more expected
hourly: They will have suddenly a very great and numerous
Army in the field, all Countries will rise with them to Dissolve
this perfidious Juncto and Councel of State, and Restore England
to its lost Freedoms, to ease the People from Taxes and
Oppressions. They keep their Guards very strict, and stronger
then ever: They are drawing up Proposals to all that shall joyn
with them, and shewing the Reasons of their Risings: If they
be Cow'd down again, farewel Levellers for ever. Thus one Sect
gets from the other; the Independent from the Presbyter, and
now the Leveller from him; and we must never look for Peace
till King Charles the Second be Established in his Throane in
Peace. The Levellers have secured those Four sent from the
Juncto to Treat with them and Compose Differences; Colonel
Ingsby is like wise secured by his own Souldiers: they are said
to be already 15000, and will encrease hourly.
Now Bradshaw, Fairfax, Pryde, you have done well.
You kill'd the King; and next you must storm Hell.
FINIS.