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I AS it befel in midsummer-time, | |
When birds singe sweetyle on every tree, | |
Our noble king, King Henry the Eighth, | |
Over the river of Thames passd he. | |
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II He was no sooner over the river, | 5 |
Downe in a forest to take the ayre, | |
But eighty merchants of London citye | |
Came kneeling before King Henry there. | |
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III O ye are welcome, rich merchànts, | |
Good saylers, welcome unto me! | 10 |
They swore by the rood they were saylers good, | |
But rich merchànts they cold not be. | |
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IV To France nor Flanders dare we not passe, | |
Nor Bourdeaux voyage we dare not fare, | |
All for a false robber that lyes on the seas, | 15 |
And robbs us of our merchants-ware. | |
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V King Henry was stout, and he turned him about, | |
And swore by the Lord that was mickle of might, | |
I thought hed not been in the world throughout | |
That durst have wrought England such unright. | 20 |
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VI But ever they sighèd, and said, alas! | |
Unto King Harry this answer againe: | |
He is a proud Scott that will robb us all | |
Were we twenty shipps and he but one. | |
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VII The King looket over his left shouldèr, | 25 |
Amongst his lords and barrons so free: | |
Have I never a lord in all my realme | |
Will fetch yond traitor unto me? | |
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VIII Yes, that dare I! says my lord Charles Howard, | |
Neere to the King wheras he did stand; | 30 |
If that Your Grace will give me leave, | |
My self will perform what you command. | |
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IX Thou shalt have six hundred men, saith our King, | |
And chuse them out of my realme so free; | |
[Moreover] mariners and ship boyes, | 35 |
To guide the great ship on the sea. | |
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X Ile goe speake with Sir Andrew, says my Lord Howard; | |
Upon the sea, if he be there; | |
I will bring him and his ship to shore, | |
Or before my prince I will neer come neere. | 40 |
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XI The first of all my Lord did call, | |
A noble gunner he was one; | |
This man was three score yeares and ten, | |
And Peter Simon was his name. | |
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XII Peter, says he, I must sayle to the sea, | 45 |
To seek out an enemy; God be my speed! | |
Before all others I have chosen thee; | |
Of a hundred gunners thoust be my head. | |
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XIII My lord, says he, if youve chosen me | |
Of a hundred gunners to be the head, | 50 |
You may hang me at your maine-mast tree | |
If I miss my mark past three pence bread. | |
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XIV The next of all my lord he did call, | |
A noble bowman he was one; | |
In Yorkshire was this gentleman borne, | 55 |
And William Horsley was his name. | |
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XV Horsley, says he, I must sayle to the sea, | |
To seek out an enemy; God be my speede! | |
Before all others I have chosen thee; | |
Of a hundred bowemen thoust be my head. | 60 |
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XVI My lord, says he, if youve chosen me | |
Of a hundred bowemen to be the head, | |
Hang me at your main-mast tree | |
If I miss my mark past twelve pence bread. | |
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XVII With pikes, and gunnes, and bowmen bold, | 65 |
This noble Howard is gone to the sea | |
On the day before Midsummer-even, | |
And out at Thames mouth saylèd they. | |
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XVIII They had not saylèd dayès three | |
Upon their journey they took in hand, | 70 |
But there they met with a noble ship, | |
And stoutely made it both stay and stand. | |
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XIX Thou must tell me thy name, says Charles my lord Howard, | |
Or who thou art, or from whence thou came, | |
Yea, and where thy dwelling is, | 75 |
To whom and where thy ship does belong. | |
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XX My name, says he, is Henery Hunt, | |
With a pure hart and a penitent mind; | |
I and my ship they doe belong | |
Unto the New-castle that stands upon Tyne. | 80 |
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XXI Now thou must tell me, Henery Hunt, | |
As thou has saylèd by day and by night | |
Hast thou not heard of a stout robbèr? | |
Men calls him Sir Andrew Barton, Knight. | |
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XXII But ever he sighèd, and said, Alas! | 85 |
Full well, my lord, I know that wight; | |
He has robbd me of my merchants-ware, | |
And I was his prisner but yesternight. | |
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XXIII As I was sayling upon the sea, | |
And a Bourdeaux voyage as I did fare, | 90 |
He claspèd me to his archèborde, | |
And robbd me of all my merchants-ware. | |
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XXIV And I am a man both poor and bare, | |
Every man will have his own of me; | |
And I am bound towards London to fare, | 95 |
To complain unto my prince Henrye. | |
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XXV That shall not need, says my Lord Howard; | |
If thou canst let me this robber see, | |
For every penny he hath taken thee fro | |
Thou shalt be rewarded a shilling, quoth he. | 100 |
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XXVI Now God forfend, says Henery Hunt, | |
My lord, you shold work so far amisse! | |
God keep you out of that traitors hands! | |
For you wot full little what man he is. | |
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XXVII He is brasse within, and steele without, | 105 |
And beams he bears in his topcastle stronge; | |
His ship hath ordinance clean round about; | |
Besides, my lord, he is very well mannd. | |
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XXVIII He hath a pinnace is dearlye dight, | |
Saint Andrews cross, that is his guide; | 110 |
His pinnace bears nine-score men and more, | |
With fifteen cannons on every side. | |
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XXIX Were you twenty ships, and he but one, | |
Either in archbord or in hall, | |
He wold overcome you everye one, | 115 |
An if his beams they doe down fall. | |
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XXX This is cold comfort, says my Lord Howard, | |
To welcome a stranger thus to the sea; | |
Ile bring him and his ship to shore, | |
Or else into Scotland he shall carry me. | 120 |
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XXXI Then, my lord, you must get a noble gunner; | |
One that can set well with his ee, | |
And sink his pinnace into the sea, | |
And soon then overcome will he be. | |
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XXXII And when that you have done all this, | 125 |
If you chance Sir Andrew for to board, | |
Let no man to his topcastle go; | |
And I will give you a glass, my lord, | |
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XXXIII And then you need to fear no Scot, | |
Whether you sayle by day or by night; | 130 |
And to-morrow, by seven of the clocke, | |
You shall meete with Sir Andrew Barton, Knight. | |
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XXXIV The merchant set Lord Howard a glass | |
So well apparent in his sight | |
That on the morrow by seven of the clock | 135 |
He spyd Sir Andrew Barton, Knight. | |
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XXXV Lord Howard he swore a mighty oath | |
When he saw his hache-bords dearly dight; | |
Now by my faith and by my troth, | |
Yonder proud Scott is a worthy wight. | 140 |
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XXXVI Take in your ancients and your standards, | |
Yea, that no man shall them see, | |
And put me forth a white willow wand, | |
As merchants use to sayle the sea. | |
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XXXVII But they stirrd neither top nor mast, | 145 |
But Sir Andrew they passèd by. | |
What English are yonder, said Sir Andrew, | |
That can so little curtesye? | |
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XXXVIII I have been admiral over the sea | |
[Methinketh] more then these yeeres three; | 150 |
There is never an English nor Portingall dog, | |
Can pass this way without leave of me. | |
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XXXIX But now yonder pedlars, they are passd, | |
Which is no little grief to me: | |
Fetch them backe, sayes Sir Andrew Barton, | 155 |
They shall all hang at my maine-mast tree. | |
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XL With that the pinnace it shot off, | |
That my Lord Howard might it well ken; | |
It strokè down my lords fore-màst, | |
And killd fourteen of my lord his men. | 160 |
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XLI Come hither, Simon! says my Lord Howard, | |
Look that thy words be true thou said; | |
Ile hang thee at my maine-mast tree | |
If thou miss thy mark past three pence bread. | |
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XLII Simon was old, but his hart it was bold; | 165 |
He tooke downe a piece, and laid it full low; | |
Chaine yeards nine he put therein, | |
Besides other great shot less and moe. | |
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XLIII With that he let his gun-shot go; | |
So well he settled it with his ee, | 170 |
The first sight that Sir Andrew saw, | |
He saw his pinnace sunk in the sea. | |
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XLIV When Sir Andrew saw his pinnace sunk, | |
Lord! in his heart he was not well! | |
Cut my ropes! it is time to be gone! | 175 |
Ile goe fetch yond pedlars back mysell! | |
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XLV When my Lord Howard saw Sir Andrew loose, | |
Lord! in his heart that he was faine! | |
Strike on your drums! spread out your ancients! | |
Sound out your trumpets! sound out amain! | 180 |
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XLVI Fight on, my men! says Sir Andrew Barton; | |
Weate, howsoever this geare will sway, | |
It is my Lord Admiral of England | |
Is come to seek me on the sea. | |
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XLVII Simon had a sone; with shot of a gun | 185 |
Well Sir Andrew might it ken | |
He shot it in at the middle deck, | |
And killed sixty more of Sir Andrews men. | |
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XLVIII [Bold] Hunt came in at the other side, | |
And at Sir Andrew he shot then; | 190 |
He drove down his fore-mast tree, | |
And killd eighty more of Sir Andrews men. | |
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XLIX I have done a good turne, sayes Henery Hunt; | |
Sir Andrew is not our Kings friend; | |
He hoped t have undone me yesternight, | 195 |
But I hope I have quit him well in the end. | |
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L Ever alas! sayd Sir Andrew Barton, | |
What shold a man either thinke or say? | |
Yonder false thief is my strongest enemy, | |
Who was my prisoner but yesterday. | 200 |
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LI Come hither to me, thou Gourden good, | |
And be thou ready at my call, | |
And I will give thee three hundred pound | |
If thou wilt let my beames downe fall. | |
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LII With that hee swarmd the main-mast tree, | 205 |
Soe did he it with might and maine; | |
But Horsley, with a bearing arrow, | |
Stroke the Gourden through the braine. | |
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LIII And he fell into the hatches againe, | |
And sore of his wound that he did bleed; | 210 |
Then word went through Sir Andrews men, | |
How that the Gourden he was dead. | |
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LIV Come hither to me, James Hamilton, | |
Thourt my sisters son, I have no more; | |
I will give thee six hundred pound | 215 |
If thou wilt let my beames downe fall. | |
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LV With that he swarmd the main-mast tree, | |
Soe did he it with might and main: | |
Horsley, with another broad arrow, | |
Strake the yeaman thoro the brain. | 220 |
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LVI That he fell downe to the hatches againe; | |
Sore of his wound that hee did bleed; | |
Covetousness gets no gaine, | |
It is very true, as the Welshman said. | |
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LVII But when he saw his nephew slaine, | 225 |
Lord! in his heart he was not well! | |
Go fetch me downe my armour of proof, | |
For I will to the topcastle mysell. | |
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LVIII Go fetch me downe my armour of proof, | |
For it is gilded with gold so cleere; | 230 |
God be with my brother, John of Barton! | |
Amongst the Portingalls he did it weare. | |
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LIX But when he had his armour of proof, | |
And on his body he had it on, | |
Every man that lookèd at him | 235 |
Said, Gun nor arrow he need fear none. | |
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LX Come hither, Horsley! says my Lord Howard, | |
And look your shaft that it goe right; | |
Shoot a good shoote in the time of need, | |
And for thy shooting thoust be made knight. | 240 |
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LXI Ile do my best, sayes Horsley then, | |
Your Honour shall see before I goe; | |
If I shold be hangd at your maine-mast tree, | |
I have in my ship but arrows two. | |
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LXII But at Sir Andrew he shot then; | 245 |
He made so sure to hit his mark; | |
Under the spole of his right arme | |
He smote Sir Andrew quite thro the heart. | |
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LXIII Yet from the tree he wold not start, | |
But he clingd to it with might and main; | 250 |
Under the collar then of his jacke, | |
He stroke Sir Andrew thoro the brain. | |
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LXIV Fight on, my men! says Sir Andrew Barton, | |
I am hurt, but I am not slain; | |
Ile lay me downe and bleed a-while, | 255 |
And then Ile rise and fight again. | |
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LXV Fight on, my men! says Sir Andrew Barton, | |
These English dogs they bite so lowe; | |
Fight on for Scotland and Saint Andrew | |
While that you hear my whistle blowe! | 260 |
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LXVI But when they cold not hear his whistle, | |
Says Henery Hunt, Ile lay my head | |
You may board yonder noble ship, my lord, | |
For I know Sir Andrew he is dead. | |
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LXVII With that they boarded this noble ship, | 265 |
So did they it with might and main; | |
They found eighteen score Scots alive, | |
Besides the rest were maimd and slaine. | |
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LXVIII Lord Howard took a sword in his hand, | |
And so smote off Sir Andrews head; | 270 |
The Scots stood by did weepe and mourne, | |
But never a word they spoke or sayd. | |
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LXIX He caused his body to be taken downe, | |
And over the hatch-bord cast into the sea, | |
And about his middle three hundred crownes: | 275 |
Wheresoever thou lands, it will bury thee! | |
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LXX With his head they sayld into England againe, | |
With right good will and force and main, | |
And on the day before New-Years Even | |
Into Thames mouth they came againe. | 280 |
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LXXI Lord Howard wrote to King Henrys grace, | |
With all the newes hee cold him bring: | |
Such a New Years gift I have brought to your Grace | |
As never did subject to any King. | |
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LXXII For merchandise, yea and manhood, | 285 |
The like is nowhere to be found; | |
The sight of these wold do you good, | |
For you have not the like in your English ground. | |
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LXXIII When the King heard tell that they were come, | |
Full royally he welcomed them home; | 290 |
Sir Andrews ship was his New-Years gift; | |
A braver ship you never saw none. | |
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LXXIV Now hath our King Sir Andrews ship, | |
Beset with pearles and precyous stones; | |
And now hath England two ships of war, | 295 |
Two ships of war, before but one. | |
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LXXV Who holpe to this? says King Henrye, | |
That I may reward him for his paine. | |
Henery Hunt, and Peter Simon, | |
William Horsley, and I the same. | 300 |
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LXXVI Harry Hunt shall have his whistle and chaine, | |
And all his jewels whatsoeer they be, | |
And other rich gifts that I will not name, | |
For his good service he hath done me. | |
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LXXVII Horsley, right thoust be a knight, | 305 |
Lands and livings thou shalt have store; | |
Howard shall be Earl of Nottingham, | |
And so was never Howard before. | |
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LXXVIII Now, Peter Simon, thou art old; | |
I will maintaine thee and thy son; | 310 |
Thou shalt have five hundred pound all in gold | |
For the good service that thou hast done. | |
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LXXIX With that King Henrye shifted his room; | |
In came the Queene and ladyes bright; | |
Other arrands they had none | 315 |
But to see Sir Andrew Barton, Knight. | |
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LXXX But when they saw his deadly face, | |
His eyes were hollow in his head; | |
I wold give a hundred pound, says his Grace, | |
The man were alive as he is dead! | 320 |
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LXXXI Yet for the manful part he hath playd, | |
Both here at home and beyond the sea, | |
His men shall have half-a-crowne a day | |
Till they come to my brother, King Jamie. | |
| GLOSS: three pence bread] the breadth of a threepenny piece. archèborde] hatch-board. dearlye dight] expensively fitted, or ornamented. guide] guidon, signal flag. hall] hull. glass] a lantern to guide the man-of-wars course by the merchantmans. ancients] ensigns. stirrd] moved, lowered. can] ken, know. Weate] wit ye, know. geare] business, fighting. sway] go, turn out. swarmd] climbed. bearing arrow] a long arrow for distant shooting. spole] shoulder, épaule. jacke] jacket, short coat of mail. | |
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