BOOK II. (continued 2)

Come hither shepherd's swayne: "Sir, what do you require?" I praye thee, shewe to me thy name. "My name is Fond Desire." When wert thou borne, Desire? 5 "In pompe and pryme of may." By whom, sweet boy, wert thou begot? "By fond Conceit men say." Tell me, who was thy nurse? "Fresh Youth in sugred joy." 10 What was thy meate and dayly foode? "Sad sighes with great annoy." What hadst thou then to drinke? "Unsavoury lovers teares." What cradle wert thou rocked in? 15 "In hope devoyde of feares." What lulld thee then asleepe? "Sweete speech, which likes me best." Tell me, where is thy dwelling place? "In gentle hartes I rest." 20 What thing doth please thee most? "To gaze on beautye stille." Whom dost thou thinke to be thy foe? "Disdayn of my good wille." Doth companye displease? 25 "Yes, surelye, many one." Where doth Desire delighte to live? "He loves to live alone." Doth either tyme or age Bringe him unto decaye? 30 "No, no, Desire both lives and dyes Ten thousand times a daye." Then, fond Desire, farewelle, Thou art no mate for mee; I sholde be lothe, methinkes, to dwelle 35 With such a one as thee.

"As itt beffell in Midsummer time When burds singe sweetlye on every tree,"

When Flora with her fragrant flowers 'Bedeckt the earth so trim and gaye, 'And Neptune with his daintye showers 'Came to present the monthe of Maye;'[583] King Henrye rode to take the ayre, 5 Over the river of Thames past hee; When eighty merchants of London came, And downe they knelt upon their knee. "O yee are welcome, rich merchànts; Good saylors, welcome unto mee." 10 They swore by the rood, they were saylors good, But rich merchànts they cold not bee: "To France nor Flanders dare we pass: Nor Bourdeaux voyage dare we fare; And all for a rover that lyes on the seas,[584] 15 Who robbs us of our merchant ware." King Henrye frownd, and turned him rounde, And swore by the Lord, that was mickle of might, "I thought he had not beene in the world, Durst have wrought England such unright." 20 The merchants sighed, and said, alas! And thus they did their answer frame, He is a proud Scott, that robbs on the seas, And Sir Andrewe Barton is his name. The king lookt over his left shouldèr, 25 And an angrye look then looked hee: "Have I never a lorde in all my realme, Will feitch yond traytor unto mee?" Yea, that dare I; lord Howard sayes;[585] Yea, that dare I with heart and hand; 30 If it please your grace to give me leave, Myselfe wil be the only man. Thou art but yong; the kyng replyed: Yond Scott hath numbred manye a yeare. "Trust me, my liege, Ile make him quail, 35 Or before my prince I will never appeare." Then bowemen and gunners thou shalt have, And chuse them over my realme so free; Besides good mariners, and shipp-boyes, To guide the great shipp on the sea. 40 The first man, that lord Howard chose, Was the ablest gunner in all the realm, Thoughe he was threescore yeeres and ten: Good Peter Simon was his name. Peter, sais hee, I must to the sea, 45 To bring home a traytor live or dead: Before all others I have chosen thee; Of a hundred gunners to be the head. If you, my lord, have chosen mee Of a hundred gunners to be the head, 50 Then hang me up on your maine-mast tree, If I misse my marke one shilling bread.[586] My lord then chose a boweman rare, Whose active hands had gained fame.[587] In Yorkshire was this gentleman borne, 55 And William Horseley was his name.[588] Horseley, sayd he, I must with speede Go seeke a traytor on the sea, And now of a hundred bowemen brave To be the head I have chosen thee. 60 If you, quoth hee, have chosen mee Of a hundred bowemen to be the head; On your maine-màst Ile hanged bee, If I miss twelvescore one penny bread.[586] With pikes and gunnes, and bowemen bold, 65 This noble Howard is gone to the sea; With a valyant heart and a pleasant cheare, Out at Thames mouth sayled he. And days he scant had sayled three, Upon the 'voyage' he tooke in hand,[589] 70 But there he mett with a noble shipp, And stoutely made itt stay and stand. Thou must tell me, lord Howard said, Now who thou art, and what's thy name; And shewe me where thy dwelling is: 75 And whither bound, and whence thou came. My name is Henry Hunt, quoth hee With a heavye heart, and a carefull mind; I and my shipp doe both belong To the Newcastle, that stands upon Tyne. 80 Hast thou not heard, nowe, Henrye Hunt, As thou hast sayled by daye and by night, Of a Scottish rover on the seas;[584] Men call him sir Andrew Barton, knight? Then ever he sighed, and sayd alas! 85 With a grieved mind, and well away! But over-well I knowe that wight, I was his prisoner yesterday. As I was sayling uppon the sea, A Burdeaux voyage for to fare; 90 To his hach-borde he clasped me,[590] And robd me of all my merchant ware: And mickle debts, Got wot, I owe, And every man will have his owne; And I am nowe to London bounde, 95 Of our gracious king to beg a boone. That shall not need, lord Howard sais; Lett me but once that robber see, For every penny tane thee froe It shall be doubled shillings three. 100 Nowe God forefend, the merchant said, That you shold seek soe far amisse! God keepe you out of that traitors hands! Full litle ye wott what a man hee is. Hee is brasse within, and steele without, 105 With beames on his topcastle stronge; And eighteen pieces of ordinance He carries on each side along: And he hath a pinnace deerlye dight,[591] St. Andrewes crosse that is his guide; 110 His pinnace beareth ninescore men, And fifteen canons on each side. Were ye twentye shippes, and he but one; I sweare by kirke, and bower, and hall; He wold overcome them everye one, 115 If once his beames they doe downe fall.[592] This is cold comfort, sais my lord, To wellcome a stranger thus to the sea: Yet Ile bring him and his shipp to shore, Or to Scottland hee shall carrye mee. 120 Then a noble gunner you must have, And he must aim well with his ee, And sinke his pinnace into the sea, Or else hee never orecome will bee: And if you chance his shipp to borde, 125 This counsel I must give withall, Let no man to his topcastle goe To strive to let his beams downe fall. And seven pieces of ordinance, I pray your honour lend to mee, 130 On each side of my shipp along, And I will lead you on the sea. A glasse Ile sett, that may be seene, Whether you sayle by day or night, And to-morrowe, I sweare, by nine of the clocke 135 You shall meet with Sir Andrewe Barton knight.

The merchant sett my lorde a glasse Soe well apparent in his sight, And on the morrowe, by nine of the clocke, He shewed him Sir Andrewe Barton knight. His hachebord it was 'gilt' with gold,[593] 5 Soe deerlye dight it dazzled the ee: Nowe by my faith, lord Howarde sais, This is a gallant sight to see. Take in your ancyents,[594] standards eke, So close that no man may them see; 10 And put me forth a white willowe wand, As merchants use to sayle the sea. But they stirred neither top, nor mast;[595] Stoutly they past Sir Andrew by. What English churles are yonder, he sayd, 15 That can soe litle curtesye? Now by the roode, three yeares and more I have beene admirall over the sea; And never an English nor Portingall Without my leave can passe this way. 20 Then called he forth his stout pinnàce; "Fetch backe yond pedlars nowe to mee: I sweare by the masse, yon English churles Shall all hang att my maine-mast tree." With that the pinnace itt shott off, 25 Full well lord Howard might it ken; For itt stroke down my lord's fore mast, And killed fourteen of his men. Come hither, Simon, sayes my lord, Looke that thy word be true, thou said; 30 For at my maine-mast thou shalt hang, If thou misse thy marke one shilling bread. Simon was old, but his heart itt was bold. His ordinance he laid right lowe; He put in chaine full nine yardes long,[596] 35 With other great shott lesse, and moe; And he lette goe his great gunnes shott; Soe well he settled itt with his ee, The first sight that Sir Andrew sawe, He see his pinnace sunke in the sea. 40 And when he saw his pinnace sunke, Lord, how his heart with rage did swell! "Nowe cutt my ropes, itt is time to be gon; Ile fetch yond pedlars backe mysell." When my Lord sawe Sir Andrewe loose, 45 Within his heart hee was full faine: "Nowe spread your ancyents, strike up drummes, Sound all your trumpetts out amaine." Fight on, my men, Sir Andrewe sais, Weale howsoever this geere will sway; 50 Itt is my lord admirall of Englànd, Is come to seeke mee on the sea. Simon had a sonne, who shott right well, That did Sir Andrewe mickle scare; In att his decke he gave a shott, 55 Killed threescore of his men of warre. Then Henrye Hunt with rigour hott Came bravely on the other side, Soone he drove downe his fore-mast tree, And killed fourscore men beside. 60 Nowe, out alas! Sir Andrewe cryed, What may a man now thinke, or say? Yonder merchant theefe, that pierceth mee, He was my prisoner yesterday. Come hither to me, thou Gordon good, 65 That aye wast readye att my call; I will give thee three hundred markes,[597] If thou wilt let my beames downe fall. Lord Howard hee then calld in haste, "Horseley see thou be true in stead; 70 For thou shalt at the maine-mast hang, If thou misse twelvescore one penny bread." Then Gordon swarved[598] the maine-mast tree, He swarved it with might and maine; But Horseley with a bearing arrowe,[599] 75 Stroke the Gordon through the braine; And he fell unto the haches again, And sore his deadlye wounde did bleed: Then word went through Sir Andrews men, How that the Gordon hee was dead. 80 Come hither to mee, James Hambilton, Thou art my only sisters sonne, If thou wilt let my beames downe fall, Six hundred nobles thou hast wonne. With that he swarved the maine-mast tree, 85 He swarved it with nimble art; But Horseley with a broad arròwe Pierced the Hambilton through the heart: And downe he fell upon the deck, That with his blood did streame amaine: 90 Then every Scott cryed, Well-away! Alas a comelye youth is slaine! All woe begone was Sir Andrew then, With griefe and rage his heart did swell: "Go fetch me forth my armour of proofe, 95 For I will to the topcastle mysell. "Goe fetch me forth my armour of proofe; That gilded is with gold soe cleare: God be with my brother John of Barton! Against the Portingalls hee it ware; 100 And when he had on this armour of proofe, He was a gallant sight to see: Ah! nere didst thou meet with living wight, My deere brothèr, could cope with thee." Come hither Horseley, sayes my lord, 105 And looke your shaft that itt goe right, Shoot a good shoote in time of need, And for it thou shalt be made a knight. Ile shoot my best, quoth Horseley then, Your honour shall see, with might and maine; 110 But if I were hanged at your maine-mast, I have now left but arrowes twaine. Sir Andrew he did swarve the tree, With right good will he swarved then: Upon his breast did Horseley hitt, 115 But the arrow bounded back agen. Then Horseley spyed a privye place With a perfect eye in a secrette part; Under the spole[600] of his right arme He smote Sir Andrew to the heart. 120 "Fight on, my men, Sir Andrew sayes, A little Ime hurt, but yett not slaine; Ile but lye downe and bleede a while, And then Ile rise and fight againe. Fight on, my men, Sir Andrew sayes, 125 And never flinche before the foe; And stand fast by St. Andrewes crosse Untill you heare my whistle blowe."[601] They never heard his whistle blow,—— Which made their hearts waxe sore adread: 130 Then Horseley sayd, Aboard, my lord, For well I wott Sir Andrew's dead. They boarded then his noble shipp, They boarded it with might and maine; Eighteen score Scots alive they found, 135 The rest were either maimed or slaine. Lord Howard tooke a sword in hand, And off he smote Sir Andrewes head; "I must have left England many a daye, If thou wert alive as thou art dead." 140 He caused his body to be cast Over the hatchbord into the sea, And about his middle three hundred crownes: "Wherever thou land this will bury thee." Thus from the warres lord Howard came, 145 And backe he sayled ore the maine, With mickle joy and triumphìng Into Thames mouth he came againe. Lord Howard then a letter wrote, And sealed it with seale and ring; 150 "Such a noble prize have I brought to your grace, As never did subject to a king. "Sir Andrewes shipp I bring with mee; A braver shipp was never none: Nowe hath your grace two shipps of warr, 155 Before in England was but one." King Henryes grace with royall cheere Welcomed the noble Howard home, And where, said he, is this rover stout, That I myselfe may give the doome? 160 "The rover, he is safe, my leige, Full many a fadom in the sea; If he were alive as he is dead, I must have left England many a day: And your grace may thank four men i' the ship 165 For the victory wee have wonne, These are William Horseley, Henry Hunt, And Peter Simon, and his sonne." To Henry Hunt, the king then sayd, In lieu of what was from thee tane, 170 A noble a day now thou shalt have, Sir Andrewes jewels and his chayne. And Horseley thou shalt be a knight, And lands and livings shalt have store; Howard shall be erle Surrye hight,[602] 175 As Howards erst have beene before.[602] Nowe, Peter Simon, thou art old, I will maintaine thee and thy sonne: And the men shall have five hundred markes For the good service they have done. 180 Then in came the queene with ladyes fair To see Sir Andrewe Barton knight: They weend that hee were brought on shore, And thought to have seen a gallant sight. But when they see his deadlye face, 185 And eyes soe hollow in his head, I wold give, quoth the king, a thousand markes, This man were alive as hee is dead: Yett for the manfull part hee playd, Which fought soe well with heart and hand, 190 His men shall have twelvepence a day, Till they come to my brother kings high land.

As: itt beffell in Mιdsumer time when burds singe sweetlye on euery tree, our noble King, King Henery the 8^th, ouer the riuer of Thames past hee. 4 hee was no sooner ouer the riuer, downe in a fforrest to take the ayre, but 80 merchants of London cittye came kneeling before King Henery there: 8 "O yee are welcome, rich merchants, [Good saylors, welcome unto me!"] they swore by the rood thé were saylers good, but rich merchants they cold not bee; 12 "to ffrance nor fflanders dare we nott passe, nor Burdeaux voyage wee dare not ffare, & all ffor a ffalse robber that lyes on the seas, & robb vs of our merchants ware." 16 King Henery was stout, & he turned him about, & swore by the Lord that was mickle of might, "I thought he had not beene in the world throughout, that durst haue wrought England such vnright." 20 but euer they sighed, and said—alas!— vnto King Harry this answere againe "he is a proud Scott that will robb vs all if wee were 20 shipps and hee but one." 24 The King looket ouer his left shoulder, amongst his Lords & Barrons soe ffree: "haue I neuer Lord in all my realme will ffeitch yond traitor vnto mee?" 28 "yes, that dare I!" sayes my Lord Chareles Howard, neere to the King wheras hee did stand; "If that your grace will giue me leaue, my selfe wilbe the only man." 32 "thou shalt haue 600 men," saith our King, "& chuse them out of my realme soe ffree; besids Marriners and boyes, to guide the great shipp on the sea." 36 "Ile goe speake with Sir Andrew," sais Charles, my Lord Haward; "vpon the sea, if hee be there, I will bring him & his shipp to shore, or before my prince I will neuer come neere." 40 the ffirst of all my Lord did call, a noble gunner hee was one; this man was 60 yeeres and ten, & Peeter Simon was his name. 44 "Peeter," sais hee, "I must sayle to the sea to seeke out an enemye; god be my speed! before all others I haue chosen thee; of a 100^{d}. guners thoust be my head." 48 "my Lord," sais hee," if you haue chosen mee of a 100^d. gunners to be the head, hange me att your maine-mast tree if I misse my marke past 3 pence bread." 52 The next of all my Lord he did call, a noble bowman hee was one; In yorekeshire was this gentleman borne, & william Horsley was his name. 56 "Horsley," sayes hee, "I must sayle to the sea to seeke out an enemye; god be my speede! before all others I haue chosen thee; of a 100 bowemen thoust be my head." 60 "My Lord," sais hee," if you haue chosen mee of a 100^d. bowemen to be they head, hang me att your mainemast tree if I misse my marke past 12^{d}. bread." 64 with pikes, and gunnes, & bowemen bold, this Noble Howard is gone to the sea on the day before Midsummer euen, & out att Thames mouth sayled they. 68 They had not sayled dayes 3 vpon their Iourney they tooke in hand, but there they mett with a Noble shipp, & stoutely made itt both stay & stand. 72 "thou must tell me thy name," sais Charles, my Lord Haward, "or who thou art, or ffrom whence thou came, yea, & where thy dwelling is, to whom & where thy shipp does belong." 76 "My name," sayes hee," is Henery Hunt, with a pure hart & a penitent mind; I and my shipp they doe belong vnto the New castle that stands vpon tine." 80 "Now thou must tell me, Harry Hunt, as thou hast sayled by day & by night, hast thou not heard of a stout robber? men calls him Sir Andrew Bartton, Knight." 84 but euer he sighed, & sayd, "alas! ffull well, my Lord, I know that wight! he robd me of my merchants ware, & I was his prisoner but yesternight. 88 "as I was sayling vppon the sea, & Burdeaux voyage as I did ffare, he Clasped me to his Archborde & robd me of all my merchants ware; 92 & I am a man both poore & bare, & euery man will haue his owne of me, & I am bound towards London to ffare, to complaine to my Prince Henerye." 96 "that shall not need," sais my Lord Haward; "if thou canst lett me this robber see, ffor euery peny he hath taken thee ffroe, thou shalt be rewarded a shilling," quoth hee. 100 "Now god ffore-fend," saies Henery Hunt, "my Lord, you shold worke soe ffarr amisse! god keepe you out of that Traitors hands! for you wott ffull litle what a man hee is. 104 "hee is brasse within, & steele without, & beanes hee beares in his Topcastle stronge; his shipp hath ordinance cleane round about; besids, my Lord, hee is verry well mand; 108 he hath a pinnace is deerlye dight, Saint Andrews crosse, that is his guide; his pinnace beares 9 score men & more, besids 15 cannons on euery side. 112 "if you were 20 shippes, & he but one, either in charke-bord or in hall, he wold ouercome you euerye one, & if his beanes they doe downe ffall." 116 "this is cold comfort," sais my Lord Haward, "to wellcome a stranger thus to the sea; He bring him & his shipp to shore, or else into Scottland hee shall carrye mee." 120 "then you must gett a noble gunner, my Lord, that can sett well with his eye & sinke his pinnace into the sea, & soone then ouercome will hee bee 124 & when that you haue done this, if you chance Sir Andrew for to bord, lett no man to his Topcastle goe; & I will giue you a glasse, my Lord, 128 "& then you need to fferae no Scott, whether you sayle by day or by night; & to-morrow by 7 of the clocke, you shall meete with Sir Andrew Bartton, Knight. 132 I was his prisoner but yester night, & he hath taken mee sworne;" quoth hee, "I trust my L[ord] god will me fforgiue & if that oath then broken bee. 136 "you must lend me sixe peeces, my Lord," quoth hee, "into my shipp to sayle the sea, & to-morrow by 9 of the clocke your honour againe then will I see." 140 And the hache-bord where Sir Andrew Lay, is hached with gold deerlye dight: "now by my ffaith," sais Charles, my Lord Haward, "then yonder Scott is a worthye wight!" 144 { Take in your ancyents & your standards, 2^d. parte { yea that no man shall them see, { & put me fforth a white willow wand, { as Merchants vse to sayle the sea. 148 But they stirred neither top nor mast, but Sir Andrew they passed by. "whatt English are yonder," said Sir Andrew, "that can so litle curtesye? 152 "I haue beene Admirall ouer the sea more then these yeeres three; there is neuer an English dog, nor Portingall, can passe this way without leaue of mee. 156 But now yonder pedlers, they are past, which is no litle greffe to me: ffeich them backe," sayes Sir Andrew Bartton, "they shall all hang att my maine-mast tree." 160 with that they pinnace itt shott of, that my Lord Haward might itt well ken, itt strokes downe my Lords fforemast, & killed 14 of my Lord his men. 164 "come hither, Simon!" sayes my Lord Haward, "looke that thy words be true thou sayd; Ile hang thee att my maine-mast tree if thou misse thy marke past 12^d. bread." 168 Simon was old, but his hart itt was bold, hee tooke downe a peece, & layd itt ffull lowe; he put in chaine yeards 9, besids other great shott lesse and more. 172 with that hee lett his gun shott goe; soe well hee settled itt with his eye, the ffirst sight that Sir Andrew sawe, hee see his pinnace sunke in the sea. 176 when hee saw his pinace sunke, Lord! in his hart hee was not well: "cutt my ropes! itt is time to be gon! Ile goe ffeitch yond pedlers backe my selfe!" 180 when my Lord Haward saw Sir Andrew loose, lord! in his hart that hee was ffaine: "strike on your drummes, spread out your ancyents! sound out your trumpetts! sound out amaine!" 184 "ffight on, my men!" sais Sir Andrew Bartton; "weate, howsoeuer this geere will sway, itt is my Lord Admιrall of England is come to seeke mee on the sea." 188 Simon had a sonne, with shott of a gunn,— well Sir Andrew might itt Ken,— he shott itt in att a priuye place, & killed 60 more of Sir Andrews men. 192 Harry Hunt came in att the other syde, & att Sir Andrew hee shott then, he droue downe his fformost tree, & killed 80 more of Sir Andirwes men. 196 "I haue done a good turne," sayes Harry Hunt, "Sir Andrew is not our Kings ffreind; he hoped to haue vndone me yesternight, but I hope I haue quitt him well in the end." 200 "Euer alas!" sayd Sir Andrew Barton, "what shold a man either thinke or say? yonder ffalse theeffe is my strongest Enemye, who was my prisoner but yesterday. 204 come hither to me, thou Gourden good, & be thou readye att my call, & I will giue thee 300^li. if thou wilt lett my beanes downe ffall." 208 with that hee swarned the maine-mast tree, soe did he itt with might and maine: Horseley with a bearing arrow stroke the Gourden through the braine, 212 And he ffell into the haches againe, & sore of this wound that he did bleed. then word went throug Sir Andrews men, that they Gourden hee was dead. 216 "come hither to me, Iames Hambliton,— thou art my sisters sonne, I haue no more,— I will giue [thee] 600^li. If thou will lett my beanes downe ffall." 220 with that hee swarned the maine-mast tree, soe did hee itt with might and maine: Horseley with an-other broad Arrow strake the yeaman through the braine, 224 that hee ffell downe to the haches againe: sore of his wound that hee did bleed. itt is verry true, as the welchman sayd, couetousness getts no gaine. 228 but when hee saw his sisters sonne slaine, Lord! in his heart hee was not well. "goe ffeitch me downe my armour of proue, ffor I will to the topcastle my-selfe. 232 goe ffeitch me downe my armour of prooffe, for itt is guilded with gold soe cleere. god be with my brother, Iohn of Bartton! amongst the Portingalls hee did itt weare." 236 but when hee had his armour of prooffe, & on his body hee had itt on, euery man that looked att him sayd, "gunn nor arrow hee neede feare none!" 240 "come hither, Horsley!" sayes my Lord Haward, "& looke your shaft that itt goe right; shoot a good shoote in the time of need, & ffor thy shooting thoust be made a Knight." 244 "Ile doe my best," sayes Horslay then, "your honor shall see beffore I goe; if I shold be hanged att your mainemast, I haue in my shipp but arrowes tow." 248 but att Sir Andrew hee shott then; hee made sure to hitt his marke; vnder the spole of his right arme hee smote Sir Andrew quite throw the hart. 252 yett ffrom the tree hee wold not start, but hee clinged to itt with might & maine. vnder the coller then of his Iacke, he stroke Sir Andrew thorrow the braine. 256 "ffight on my men," sayes Sir Andrew Bartton, "I am hurt, but I am not slaine; Ile lay mee downe & bleed a-while, & then Ile rise & ffight againe. 260 ffight on my men," sayes Sir Andrew Bartton, "these English doggs they bite soe lowe; ffight on ffor Scottland & Saint Andrew till you heare my whistle blowe!" 264 but when thé cold not heare his whistle blow, sayes Harry Hunt, "Ile lay my head you may bord yonder noble shipp, my Lord, for I know Sir Andrew hee is dead." 268 with that they borded this noble shipp, soe did they itt with might & maine; thé ffound 18 score Scotts aliue, besids the rest were maimed & slaine. 272 My Lord Haward tooke a sword in his hand, & smote of Sir Andrews head. the Scotts stood by, did weepe & mourne, but neuer a word durst speake or say. 276 he caused his body to be taken downe, & ouer the hatch-bord cast into the sea, & about his middle 300 crownes: "wheresoeuer thou lands, itt will bury thee." 280 with his head they sayled into England againe with right good will & fforce & meanye, & the day beffore New yeeres euen & into Thames mouth againe they came. 284 My Lord Haward wrote to King Heneryes grace, with all the newes hee cold him bring: "such a new yeeres gifft I haue brought to your gr[ace], As neuer did subiect to any King. 288 "ffor Merchandyes and Manhood, the like is nott to be ffound; the sight of these wold doe you good, ffor you haue not the Like in your English ground." 292 but when hee heard tell that they were come, full royally hee welcomed them home: Sir Andrews shipp was the Kings New yeeres guifft; A brauer shipp you neuer saw none. 296 Now hath our King Sir Andrews shipp besett with pearles and precyous stones; Now hath England 2 shipps of warr, 2 shipps of warr, before but one. 300 "who holpe to this?" sayes King Henerye, "that I may reward him ffor his paine," "Harry Hunt and Peeter Simon, William Horseleay, & I the same." 304 "Harry Hunt shall haue his whistle & chaine, & all his Iewells, whatsoeuer they bee, & other rich giffts that I will not name, for his good service he hath done mee. 308 Horslay, right thoust be a Knight; Lands and liuings thou shalt haue store. Howard shalbe Erle of Nottingham, & soe was neuer Haward before. 312 "Now Peeter Simon, thou art old, I will maintaine thee & thy sonne, thou shalt haue 500^li. all in gold ffor the good service that thou hast done." 316 then King Henerye shiffted his roome; in came the Queene & ladyes bright; other arrands they had none but to see Sir Andrew Bartton, Knight. 320 but when they see his deadly fface, his eyes were hollow in his head, "I wold giue a 100^li." sais King Henerye, "the man were aliue as hee is dead! 324 yett ffor the manfull part that hee hath playd both heere & beyond the sea his men shall haue halfe a crowne a day to bring them to my brother King Iamye." 328

'I take my fate from best to worse That I must needs now be a nurse, And lull my young son in my lap. From me, sweet orphan, take the pap: Balow, my boy, thy mother mild Shall sing, as from all bliss exil'd.'

'I was too credulous at the first To grant thee that a maiden durst, And in thy bravery thou didst vaunt That I no maintenance should want:(!) Thou swear thou lov'd, thy mind is moved, Which since no otherwise has proved.'

Balow,[603] my babe, lye still and sleipe! It grieves me sair to see thee weipe: If thoust be silent, Ise be glad, Thy maining[604] maks my heart ful sad. Balow, my boy, thy mothers joy, 5 Thy father breides me great annoy. Balow, my babe, ly stil and sleipe, It grieves me sair to see thee weepe. Whan he began to court my luve, And with his sugred wordes[605] to muve, 10 His faynings fals, and flattering cheire To me that time did not appeire: But now I see, most cruell hee Cares neither for my babe nor mee. Balow, &c. 15 Lye still, my darling, sleipe a while, And when thou wakest, sweitly smile: But smile not, as thy father did, To cozen maids: nay God forbid! Bot yett I feire, thou wilt gae neire 20 Thy fatheris hart, and face to beire. Balow, &c. I cannae chuse, but ever will Be luving to thy father still: Whair-eir he gae, whair-eir he ryde, 25 My luve with him doth still abyde: In weil or wae, whair-eir he gae, Mine hart can neire depart him frae. Balow, &c. Bot doe not, doe not, prettie mine, 30 To faynings fals thine hart incline: Be loyal to thy luver trew, And nevir change hir for a new: If gude or faire, of hir have care, For womens banning's[606] wonderous sair. 35 Balow, &c. Bairne, sin thy cruel father is gane, Thy winsome smiles maun eise my paine; My babe and I'll together live, He'll comfort me when cares doe grieve: 40 My babe and I right saft will ly, And quite forgeit man's cruelty. Balow, &c. Fareweil, fareweil, thou falsest youth, That evir kist a womans mouth! 45 I wish all maides be warnd by mee Nevir to trust mans curtesy; For if we doe bot chance to bow, They'le use us then they care not how. Balow, my babe, ly stil, and sleipe, 50 It grives me sair to see thee weipe.

"At ten houris on Sunday late at een, When Dalila and Bothwell bade good night, Off her finger false she threw ane ring, And said, My Lord ane token you I plight."

Woe worth, woe worth thee, false Scotlànde![610] For thou hast ever wrought by sleight;[611] The worthyest prince that ever was borne,[612] You hanged under a cloud by night. The queene of France a letter wrote, 5 And sealed itt with harte and ringe; And bade him come Scotland within, And shee wold marry and crowne him kinge.[613] To be a king is a pleasant thing,[614] To bee a prince unto a peere: 10 But you have heard, and soe have I too, A man may well buy gold too deare. There was an Italyan in that place, Was as well beloved as ever was hee, Lord David was his name,[615] 15 Chamberlaine to the queene was hee.[616] If the king had risen forth of his place,[617] He wold have sate him downe in the cheare,[618] And tho itt beseemed him not so well, Altho the kinge had beene present there. 20 Some lords in Scotlande waxed wroth,[619] And quarrelled with him for the nonce; I shall you tell how it befell, Twelve daggers were in him att once.[620] When the queene saw her chamberlaine was slaine,[621] 25 For him her faire cheeks shee did weete,[622] And made a vowe for a yeare and a day[623] The king and shee wold not come in one sheete. Then some of the lords they waxed wrothe,[624] And made their vow all vehementlye; 30 For the death of the queenes chamberlaine, The king himselfe, how he shall dye.[625] With gun-powder they strewed his roome,[626] And layd greene rushes in his way; For the traitors thought that very night[627] 35 This worthye king for to betray.[628] To bedd the king he made him bowne;[629][630] To take his rest was his desire;[631] He was noe sooner cast on sleepe, But his chamber was on a biasing fire. 40 Up he lope,[632] and the window brake;[633] And hee had thirtye foote to fall:[634] Lord Bodwell kept a privy watch, Underneath his castle wall. Who have wee here? lord Bodwell sayd:[635] 45 Now answer me, that I may know.[636] "King Henry the eighth my uncle was; For his sweete sake some pitty show."[637] Who have we here? lord Bodwell sayd,[638] Now answer me when I doe speake.[638] 50 "Ah, lord Bodwell, I know thee well; Some pitty on me I pray thee take." Ile pitty thee as much, he sayd, And as much favor show to thee,[639] As thou didst to the queenes chamberlaine,[640] 55 That day thou deemedst[641] him to die.[642] Through halls and towers the king they ledd,[643] Through towers and castles that were nye,[644] Through an arbor into an orchàrd, There on a peare-tree hanged him hye.[645] 60 When the governor of Scotland heard[646] How that the worthye king was slaine;[647] He persued the queen so bitterlye, That in Scotland shee dare not remaine.[648] But she is fledd into merry England, 65 And here her residence hath taine;[649] And through the queene of Englands grace,[650] In England now shee doth remaine.[651]

The doubt of future foes,[653] Exiles my present ioy, And wit me warnes to shun such snares As threaten mine annoy. For falshood now doth flow, 5 And subiect faith doth ebbe,[654] Which would not be, if reason rul'd[655] Or wisdome weu'd the webbe.[656] But clowdes of iois vntried,[657] Do cloake aspiring mindes, 10 Which turne to raine of late repent,[658] By course of changed windes. The toppe of hope supposed, The roote of ruthe wil be, And frutelesse all their graffed guiles, 15 As shortly ye shall see. Then dazeld eyes with pride, Which great ambition blinds, Shalbe vnseeld by worthy wights, Whose foresight falshood finds. 20 The daughter of debate,[659] That eke discord doth sowe,[660] Shal reap no gaine where former rule[661] Hath taught stil peace to growe. No forreine bannisht wight 25 Shall ancre in this port, Our realme it brookes no strangers force,[662] Let them elsewhere resort. Our rusty sworde with rest, Shall first his edge employ, 30 To polle their toppes, that seeke such change And gape for 'such like' ioy.[663]

"Never thinke you, Fortune can beare the sway, Where Vertue's force can cause her to obay."

"Hic situs est sitiens, atque ebrius Eldertonus, Quid dico hic situs est? hic potius sitis est," "Dead drunk here Elderton doth lie; Dead as he is, he still is dry: So of him it may well be said, Here he, but not his thirst, is laid."

Out alas!' what a griefe is this That princes subjects cannot be true, But still the devill hath some of his, Will play their parts whatsoever ensue; Forgetting what a grievous thing 5 It is to offend the anointed king? Alas for woe, why should it be so, This makes a sorrowful heigh ho. In Scotland is a bonnie kinge, As proper a youth as neede to be, 10 Well given to every happy thing, That can be in a kinge to see: Yet that unluckie country still, Hath people given to craftie will. Alas for woe, &c. 15 On Whitsun eve it so befell, A posset was made to give the king, Whereof his ladie nurse hard tell, And that it was a poysoned thing: She cryed, and called piteouslie; 20 Now help, or els the king shall die! Alas for woe, &c. One Browne, that was an English man, And hard the ladies piteous crye, Out with his sword, and bestir'd him than, 25 Out of the doores in haste to flie; But all the doores were made so fast, Out of a window he got at last Alas for woe, &c. He met the bishop coming fast, 30 Having the posset in his hande: The sight of Browne made him aghast, Who bad him stoutly staie and stand. With him were two that ranne awa, For feare that Browne would make a fray. 35 Alas for woe, &c. Bishop, quoth Browne, what hast thou there? Nothing at all, my friend, sayde he; But a posset to make the king good cheere. Is it so? sayd Browne, that will I see, 40 First I will have thyself begin, Before thou go any further in; Be it weale or woe, it shall be so, This makes a sorrowful heigh ho. The bishop sayde, Browne I doo know, 45 Thou art a young man poore and bare; Livings on thee I will bestowe: Let me go on, take thou no care. No, no, quoth Browne, I will not be A traitour for all Christiantie: 50 Happe well or woe, it shall be so, Drink now with a sorrowfull, &c. The bishop dranke, and by and by His belly burst and he fell downe: A just rewarde for his traitery. 55 This was a posset indeed, quoth Brown! He serched the bishop, and found the keyes, To come to the kinge when he did please. Alas for woe, &c. As soon as the king got word of this, 60 He humbly fell uppon his knee, And praysed God that he did misse To tast of that extremity: For that he did perceive and know, His clergie would betray him so: 65 Alas for woe, &c. Alas, he said, unhappie realme,[664] My father, and grandfather slaine: My mother banished, O extreame! Unhappy fate, and bitter bayne! 70 And now like treason wrought for me, What more unhappie realme can be! Alas for woe, &c. The king did call his nurse to his grace, And gave her twenty poundes a yeere; 75 And trustie Browne too in like case, He knighted him with gallant geere; And gave him 'lands and' livings great, For dooing such a manly feat, As he did showe, to the bishop's woe, 80 Which made, &c. When all this treason done and past, Tooke not effect of traytery; Another treason at the last, They sought against his majestie: 85 How they might make their kinge away, By a privie banket[665] on a daye. Alas for woe, &c. 'Another time' to sell the king Beyonde the seas they had decreede: 90 Three noble Earles heard of this thing. And did prevent the same with speede. For a letter came, with such a charme, That they should doo their king no harme: For further woe, if they did soe, 95 Would make a sorrowful heigh hoe. The Earle Mourton told the Douglas then, Take heede you do not offend the king; But shew yourselves like honest men Obediently in every thing: 100 For his godmother[666] will not see Her noble childe misus'd to be With any woe; for if it be so, She will make, &c. God graunt all subjects may be true, 105 In England, Scotland, every where: That no such daunger may ensue, To put the prince or state in feare: That God the highest king may see Obedience as it ought to be, 110 In wealth or woe, God graunt it be so To avoide the sorrowful heigh ho.

"Open the gates And let him come in; He is my brother Huntly, He'll do me nae harm."

Ye highlands, and ye lawlands, Oh! quhair hae ye been? They hae slaine the Earl of Murray, And hae laid him on the green. Now wae be to thee, Huntley! 5 And quhairfore did you sae! I bade you bring him wi' you, But forbade you him to slay. He was a braw gallant, And he rid at the ring; 10 And the bonny Earl of Murray, Oh! he might hae been a king. He was a braw gallant, And he playd at the ba'; And the bonny Earl of Murray 15 Was the flower among them a'. He was a braw gallant, And he playd at the gluve; And the bonny Earl of Murray, Oh! he was the Queenes luve. 20 Oh! lang will his lady Luke owre the castle downe,[667] Ere she see the Earl of Murray Cum sounding throw the towne.

About Yule, quhen the wind blew cule, And the round tables began, A'! there is cum to our kings court Mony a well-favourd man. The queen luikt owre the castle wa, 5 Beheld baith dale and down, And then she saw young Waters Cum riding to the town. His footmen they did rin before, His horsemen rade behind, 10 Ane mantel of the burning gowd Did keip him frae the wind. Gowden graith'd[669] his horse before And siller shod behind, The horse yong Waters rade upon 15 Was fleeter than the wind. But then spake a wylie lord, Unto the queen said he, O tell me quha's the fairest face Rides in the company. 20 I've sene lord, and I've sene laird, And knights of high degree; Bot a fairer face than young Watèrs Mine eyne did never see. Out then spack the jealous king, 25 (And an angry man was he) O, if he had been twice as fair, You micht have excepted me. You're neither laird nor lord, she says, Bot the king that wears the crown; 30 Ther is not a knight in fair Scotland Bot to thee maun bow down. For a' that she could do or say, Appeasd he wad nae bee; Bot for the words which she had said 35 Young Waters he maun dee. They hae taen young Waters, and Put fetters to his feet; They hae taen young Waters, and Thrown him in dungeon deep. 40 Aft I have ridden thro' Stirling town In the wind both and the weit; Bot I neir rade thro' Stirling town Wi fetters at my feet. Aft have I ridden thro' Stirling town 45 In the wind both and the rain; Bot I neir rade thro' Stirling town Neir to return again. They hae taen to the heiding-hill[670] His young son in his craddle, 50 And they hae taen to the heiding-hill, His horse both and his saddle. They hae taen to the heiding-hill His lady fair to see. And for the words the Queen had spoke, 55 Young Waters he did dee.

----"Mary Ambree, (Who marched so free To the siege of Gaunt, And death could not daunt, As the ballad doth vaunt) Were a braver wight, &c."

"A bold virago stout and tall As Joan of France, or English Mall."

When captain's couragious, whom death cold not daunte, Did march to the siege of the citty of Gaunt, They mustred their souldiers by two and by three, And the formost in battle was Mary Ambree. When brave Sir John Major[671] was slaine in her sight, 5 Who was her true lover, her joy, and delight, Because he was slaine most treacherouslie, Then vowd to revenge him Mary Ambree. She clothed herselfe from the top to the toe In buffe of the bravest, most seemelye to showe; 10 A faire shirt of male[672] then slipped on shee; Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree? A helmett of proofe shee strait did provide, A strong arminge sword shee girt by her side, On her hand a goodly faire gauntlett put shee; 15 Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree? Then tooke shee her sworde and her targett in hand, Bidding all such, as wold, bee of her band; To wayte on her person came thousand and three: Was not this a brave bonny lass, Mary Ambree? 20 My soldiers, she saith, soe valiant and bold, Nowe followe your captaine, whom you doe beholde; Still foremost in battel myselfe will I bee: Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree? Then cryed out her souldiers, and loude they did say, 25 Soe well thou becomest this gallant array, Thy harte and thy weapons soe well do agree, There was none ever like Mary Ambree. Shee cheared her souldiers, that foughten for life, With ancyent and standard, with drum and with fyfe, 30 With brave clanging trumpetts, that sounded so free; Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree? Before I will see the worst of you all To come into danger of death, or of thrall, This hand and this life I will venture so free: 35 Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree? Shee led upp her souldiers in battaile array, Gainst three times theyr number by breake of the daye; Seven howers in skirmish continued shee: Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree? 40 She filled the skyes with the smoke of her shott, And her enemyes bodyes with bullets soe hott; For one of her owne men a score killed shee: Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree? And when her false gunner, to spoyle her intent, 45 Away all her pellets and powder had sent, Straight with her keen weapon shee slasht him in three: Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree? Being falselye betrayed for lucre of hyre, At length she was forced to make a retyre; 50 Then her souldiers into a strong castle drew shee: Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree? Her foes they besett her on everye side, As thinking close siege shee cold never abide; To beate down the walles they all did decree: 55 But stoutlye deffyd them brave Mary Ambree. Then tooke shee her sword and her targett in hand, And mounting the walls all undaunted did stand, There daring their captaines to match any three: O what a brave captaine was Mary Ambree! 60 Now saye, English captaine, what woldest thou give To ransome thy selfe, which else must not live? Come yield thy selfe quicklye, or slaine thou must bee. Then smiled sweetlye brave Mary Ambree. Ye captaines couragious, of valour so bold, 65 Whom thinke you before you now you doe behold? A knight, sir, of England, and captaine soe free, Who shortelye with us a prisoner must bee. No captaine of England; behold in your sight Two brests in my bosome, and therfore no knight: 70 Noe knight, sirs, of England, nor captaine you see, But a poor simple lass, called Mary Ambree. But art thou a woman, as thou dost declare, Whose valor hath provd so undaunted in warre? If England doth yield such brave lasses as thee, 75 Full well may they conquer, faire Mary Ambree. The prince of Great Parma heard of her renowne, Who long had advanced for Englands faire crowne; Hee wooed her and sued her his mistress to bee, And offerd rich presents to Mary Ambree. 80 But this virtuous mayden despised them all, Ile nere sell my honour for purple nor pall: A mayden of England, sir, never will bee The whore of a monarcke, quoth Mary Ambree. Then to her owne country shee backe did returne, 85 Still holding the foes of faire England in scorne: Therfore English captaines of every degree Sing forth the brave valours of Mary Ambree.

Captaine couragious, whome death cold daunte, beseeged the Citye brauelye, the citty of Gaunt! they mustered their soliders by 2 & by 3: & the fformost in Battele was Mary Aumbree! 4 When braue Sir Iohn Maior was slaine in that fight, that was her true louer, her Ioy & delight, shee swore his death vnreuenged shold not bee; was not this a braue, bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 8 The death of her trueloue shee meant to requite with fire & ffamine [&] sword shining bright, which lately was slaine most villanouslye; was not this a braue, bonnye Lasse, Mary Aumbree? 12 Shee cladd her selfe from the top to the toe in buffe of the brauest most seemlye to show, & a faire shirt of Male slipped on shee; was not this a braue, bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 16 A helmett of proofe shee tooke on her head, & a strong arminge sword shee wore by her side; a goodly fayre gauntlett on her hand put shee; was not this a braue, bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 20 Shee tooke her sword & her targett in hand, bidding all such as wold, wayte on her band. to waite on her person there came 1000^ds 3: was not this a braue, bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 24 "My soldiers," shee saith, "soe valiant and bold, now ffollow your Captain which you doe beholde; in the fight formost my selfe will I bee!" was not this a braue, bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 28 Then cryed out her souldiers, & loude thé did say, "soe well thou becomes this gallant array, thy hands & thy weapons doe well soe agree, there was neuer none like to Mary Aumbree!" 32 Shee cheared her good souldiers that foughten for life, with the cominge of Ancyents, with drum & with fife, that braue sonding trumpetts with ingines soe free, att last thé made mention of Mary Aumbree. 36 "Before that I doe see the worst of you all come in the danger of your enemyes thrall, this hand & this sword shall first sett him free;" was not this a braue bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 40 Shee forward went on in Battaile array, & straight shee did make her foes flye away; 7 houres in sckirmish continued shee; was not this a braue bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 44 The skyes shee did fill with the smoke of her shott, in her enemies bodyes with bulletts soe hott; for one of her owne men, a sckore killed shee; was not this a braue bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 48 Then did her gunner spoyle her intent, pelletts & powder away had he sent: then with her sword shee cutt him in 3, was not this a braue bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 52 Then was shee caused to make a retyre, being falsely betrayd, as itt doth appeare; then to saue her selfe into a castle went shee; was not this a braue bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 56 Her foes thé besett her on euerye side, thinking in that castle shee wold not abyde; to beate downe those walls they all did agree; was not that a braue bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 60 She tooke her sword & her targett in hand, shee came to the walls, and vpon them did stand, their daring their Captaine to match any 3, was not that a braue bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 64 "Thou English Captain, what woldest thou giue to ransome thy liffe which else must not liue? come downe quickly, & yeeld thee to mee!" then smiled sweetlye Mary Aumbree; 68 "Good gentle Captain, what thinke you by mee, or whom in my likenesse you take mee to bee?" "a knight, sir, of England, & Captain soe free, that I meane to take away prisoner with me." 72 "Good gentle Captain, behold in your sight 2 brests in my bosome, & therfore no knight; noe knight, Sir, of England, nor Captain soe free, but eue[n]e a pore bony Lasse, Mary Aumbree." 76 "If thou beest a woman as thou dost declare, that hast mangled our soliders, & made them soe bare; the like in my liffe I neuer did see; therfore Ile honor thee, Mary Aumbree." 80 "Giue I be a woman, as well thou doest see, Captain, thou gettst noe redemption of mee without thou wilt fight with blowes 2 or 3." was not this a braue bonye lasse, Mary Aumbree? 84 God send in warrs, such euent I abide, god send such a solider to stand by my side! then safely preserued my person wilbe; there was neuer none like to Mary Aumbree!] 88

"A sonne she had in Germanie, Peregrine Bartue cald by name, Surnamde The Good Lord Willobie, Of courage great and worthie fame."

The fifteenth day of July, With glistering spear and shield, A famous fight in Flanders Was foughten in the field: The most couragious officers 5 Were English captains three; But the bravest man in battel Was brave lord Willoughbèy. The next was captain Norris, A valiant man was hee: 10 The other captain Turner, From field would never flee. With fifteen hundred fighting men, Alas! there were no more, They fought with fourteen thousand then, 15 Upon the bloody shore. Stand to it noble pikemen, And look you round about: And shoot you right you bow-men, And we will keep them out: 20 You musquet and calliver[673] men, Do you prove true to me, I'le be the formost man in fight, Says brave lord Willoughbèy. And then the bloody enemy 25 They fiercely did assail, And fought it out most furiously, Not doubting to prevail; The wounded men on both sides fell Most pitious for to see, 30 Yet nothing could the courage quell Of brave lord Willoughbèy. For seven hours to all mens view This fight endured sore, Until our men so feeble grew 35 That they could fight no more; And then upon dead horses Full savourly they eat, And drank the puddle water, They could no better get. 40 When they had fed so freely, They kneeled on the ground, And praised God devoutly For the favour they had found; And beating up their colours, 45 The fight they did renew, And turning tow'rds the Spaniard, A thousand more they slew. The sharp steel-pointed arrows, And bullets thick did fly; 50 Then did our valiant soldiers Charge on most furiously; Which made the Spaniards waver, They thought it best to flee, They fear'd the stout behaviour 55 Of brave lord Willoughbèy. Then quoth the Spanish general, Come let us march away, I fear we shall be spoiled all If here we longer stay; 60 For yonder comes lord Willoughbey With courage fierce and fell, He will not give one inch of way For all the devils in hell. And then the fearful enemy 65 Was quickly put to flight, Our men persued couragiously, And caught their forces quite; But at last they gave a shout, Which ecchoed through the sky, 70 God, and St. George for England! The conquerers did cry. This news was brought to England With all the speed might be, And soon our gracious queen was told 75 Of this same victory. O this is brave lord Willoughbey, My love that ever won, Of all the lords of honour 'Tis he great deeds hath done. 80 To the souldiers that were maimed, And wounded in the fray, The queen allowed a pension Of fifteen pence a day; And from all costs and charges 85 She quit and set them free: And this she did all for the sake Of brave lord Willoughbèy. Then courage, noble Englishmen, And never be dismaid; 90 If that we be but one to ten, We will not be afraid To fight with foraign enemies, And set our nation free. And thus I end the bloody bout 95 Of brave lord Willoughbèy.

Victorious men of earth, no more Proclaim how wide your empires are; Though you binde in every shore, And your triumphs reach as far As night or day; 5 Yet you proud monarchs must obey, And mingle with forgotten ashes, when Death calls yee to the croud of common men. Devouring famine, plague, and war, Each able to undo mankind, 10 Death's servile emissaries are; Nor to these alone confin'd, He hath at will More quaint and subtle wayes to kill; A smile or kiss, as he will use the art, 15 Shall have the cunning skill to break a heart.

"A gentleman of Wales, a knight of Cales, And a laird of the North country; But a yeoman of Kent with his yearly rent Will buy them out all three."

Long the proud Spaniards had vaunted to conquer us, Threatning our country with fyer and sword; Often preparing their navy most sumptuous With as great plenty as Spain could afford. Dub a dub, dub a dub, thus strike their drums; Tantara, tantara, the Englishman comes.[674] 6 To the seas presentlye went our lord admiral, With knights couragious and captains full good; The brave Earl of Essex, a prosperous general, With him prepared to pass the salt flood. 10 Dub a dub, &c. At Plymouth speedilye, took they ship valiantlye, Braver ships never were seen under sayle, With their fair colours spread, and streamers ore their head, Now bragging Spaniards, take heed of your tayle. Dub a dub, &c. 15 Unto Cales cunninglye, came we most speedilye, Where the kinges navy securelye did ryde; Being upon their backs, piercing their butts of sacks, Ere any Spaniards our coming descryde. 20 Dub a dub, &c. Great was the crying, the running and ryding,[675] Which at that season was made in that place; The beacons were fyred, as need then required; To hyde their great treasure they had little space. Dub a dub, &c. 26 There you might see their ships, how they were fyred fast, And how their men drowned themselves in the sea; There might you hear them cry, wayle and weep piteously, When they saw no shift to scape thence away. 30 Dub a dub, &c. The great St. Phillip, the pryde of the Spaniards, Was burnt to the bottom, and sunk in the sea; But the St. Andrew, and eke the St. Matthew, Wee took in fight manfullye and brought away.[676] 35 Dub a dub, &c. The Earl of Essex most valiant and hardye, With horsemen and footmen march'd up to the town;[677] The Spanyards, which saw them, were greatly alarmed, Did fly for their savegard, and durst not come down. Dub a dub, &c. 41 Now, quoth the noble Earl, courage my soldiers all, Fight and be valiant, the spoil you shall have; And bè well rewarded all from the great to the small;[678] But looke that the women and children you save.[679] Dub a dub, &c. 46 The Spaniards at that sight, thinking it vain to fight,[680] Hung upp flags of truce and yielded the towne;[681] Wee marched in presentlye, decking the walls on hye, With English colours which purchas'd renowne.[682] 50 Dub a dub, &c. Entering the houses then, of the most richest men, For gold and treasure we searched eche day; In sòme places wè did find, pyes baking left behind,[683] Meate at fire rosting, and folkes run away.[684] 55 Dub a dub, &c. Full of rich merchandize, every shop catch'd our eyes,[685] Damasks and sattens and velvets full fayre: Wh[ⁱ]ch soldiers mèasur'd out by the length of their swords; Of all commodities eche had a share.[686] 60 Dub a dub, &c. Thus Cales was taken, and our brave general March'd to the market-place, where he did stand: There many prisoners fell to our several shares,[687] Many crav'd mercye, and mercye they fannd.[688] 65 Dub a dub, &c. When our brave general saw they delayed all,[689] And would not ransome their towne as they said, With their fair wanscots, their presses and bedsteds, Their joint-stools and tables a fire we made;[690] 70 And when the town burned all in a flame, With tara, tantara, away wee all came.[691]