| |
THE FIRST PART
WHEN Flora with her fragrant flowers | |
| Bedeckt the earth so trim and gaye, | |
| And Neptune with his dainty showers | |
| Came to present the month of Maye, | |
| King Henry rode to take the air, | 5 |
| Over the River Thames past he; | |
| When eighty merchants of London came, | |
| And down they knelt upon their knee. | |
| |
| “O ye are welcome, rich merchants, | |
| Good saylors, welcome unto me:” | 10 |
| They swore by the rood, they were saylors good, | |
| But rich merchants they could not be. | |
| “To France nor Flanders dare we pass, | |
| Nor Bordeaux voyage dare we fare, | |
| And all for a robber that lyes on the seas, | 15 |
| Who robs us of our merchant ware.” | |
| |
| King Henry frowned, and turned him round, | |
| And swore by the Lord that was mickle of might, | |
| “I thought he had not been 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 Scot that robs on the seas, | |
| And Sir Andrew Barton is his name.” | |
| |
| The king looked over his left shoulder, | 25 |
| And an angry look then lookèd he; | |
| “Have I never a lord in all my realm | |
| Will fetch yond traitor unto me?” | |
| “Yea, that dare I,” Lord Charles Howard says; | |
| “Yea, that dare I with heart and hand; | 30 |
| If it please your grace to give me leave, | |
| Myself will be the only man.” | |
| |
| “Thou art but young,” the king replied, | |
| “Yond Scot hath numbered many a year:” | |
| “Trust me, my liege, I’ll make him quail, | 35 |
| Or before my prince I’ll never appear.” | |
| “Then bowmen and gunners thou shalt have, | |
| And chuse them over my realm so free; | |
| Besides mariners and good sea-boys | |
| To guide the great ship on the sea.” | 40 |
| |
| The first man that Lord Howard chose, | |
| Was the ablest gunner in all the realm, | |
| Though he was threescore years and ten; | |
| Good Peter Simon was his name. | |
| “Peter,” says he, “I must to the sea | 45 |
| To bring home a traitor live or dead; | |
| Before all others I have chosen thee, | |
| Of a hundred gunners to be the head.” | |
| |
| “If you, my lord, have chosen me | |
| Of a hundred gunners to be the head, | 50 |
| Then hang me up on your mainmast tree, | |
| If I miss my mark one shilling bread.” 1 | |
| My lord then chose a bowman rare, | |
| Whose active hands had gainèd fame; | |
| In Yorkshire was this gentleman born, | 55 |
| And William Horseley was his name. | |
| |
| “Horseley,” said he, “I must with speed | |
| Go seek a traitor on the sea, | |
| And now of a hundred bowmen brave | |
| To be the head I have chosen thee.” | 60 |
| “If you,” quoth he, “have chosen me | |
| Of a hundred bowmen to be the head, | |
| On your mainmast I’ll hangèd be, | |
| If I miss twelvescore one penny bread.” | |
| |
| With pikes, and guns, and bowmen bold, | 65 |
| This noble Howard is gone to the sea; | |
| With a valiant heart and a pleasant cheer, | |
| Out at Thamés mouth sailed he. | |
| And days he scant had sailèd three, | |
| Upon the journey he took in hand, | 70 |
| But there he met with a noble ship, | |
| And stoutly made it stay and stand. | |
| |
| “Thou must tell me,” Lord Howard said, | |
| “Now who thou art, and what’s thy name; | |
| And show me where thy dwelling is, | 75 |
| And whither bound, and whence thou came.” | |
| “My name is Henry Hunt,” quoth he, | |
| With a heavy heart and a careful mind; | |
| “I and my ship do both belong | |
| To the Newcastle that stands upon Tyne.” | 80 |
| |
| “Hast thou not heard, now, Henry Hunt, | |
| As thou hast sailed by day and by night, | |
| Of a Scottish robber on the seas; | |
| Men call him Sir Andrew Barton, knight?” | |
| Then ever he sighed, and said, “Alas!” | 85 |
| With a grievèd mind and well-away, | |
| “But over-well I know that wight; | |
| I was his prisoner yesterday. | |
| |
| “As I was sailing upon the sea, | |
| A Bordeaux voyage for to fare, | 90 |
| To his hachborde he claspèd me, | |
| And robbed me of all my merchant ware. | |
| And mickle debts, God wot, I owe, | |
| And every man will have his own, | |
| And I am now to London bound, | 95 |
| Of our gracious king to beg a boon.” | |
| |
| “Thou shalt not need,” Lord Howard says; | |
| “Let me but once that robber see, | |
| For every penny tane thee fro | |
| It shall be doubled shillings three.” | 100 |
| “Now God forfend,” the merchant said, | |
| “That you should seek so far amiss! | |
| God keep you out of that traitor’s hands! | |
| Full little ye wot what a man he is. | |
| |
| “He is brass within, and steel without, | 105 |
| With beams on his topcastle strong; | |
| And eighteen pieces of ordinance | |
| He carries on each side along. | |
| “And he hath a pinnace dearly dight, | |
| St. Andrew’s cross, that is his guide; | 110 |
| His pinnace beareth ninescore men, | |
| And fifteen cannons on each side. | |
| |
| “Were ye twenty ships, and he but one, | |
| I swear by kirk, and bower, and hall, | |
| He would overcome them every one, | 115 |
| If once his beams they do downfall.” | |
| “This is cold comfort,” said my lord, | |
| “To welcome a stranger thus to the sea: | |
| Yet I’ll bring him and his ship to the shore, | |
| Or to Scotland he shall carry me.” | 120 |
| |
| “Then a noble gunner you must have, | |
| And he must aim well with his ee, | |
| And sink his pinnace into the sea, | |
| Or else he never overcome will be. | |
| And if you chance his ship to board, | 125 |
| This counsell I must give withal, | |
| Let no man to his topcastle go | |
| To strive to let his beams downfall. | |
| |
| “And seven pieces of ordinance, | |
| I pray your honor lend to me, | 130 |
| On each side of my ship along, | |
| And I will lead you on the sea. | |
| A glass I’ll get, that may be seen, | |
| Whether you sail by day or night, | |
| And to-morrow, I swear, by nine of the clock, | 135 |
| You shall meet with Sir Andrew Barton, knight.” | |
| |
THE SECOND PART
The merchant sette my lord a glass, | |
| So well apparent in his sight, | |
| And on the morrow, by nine of the clock, | |
| He showed him Sir Andrew Barton, knight. | 140 |
| His hacheborde it was hached with gold, | |
| So dearly dight it dazzled the ee; | |
| “Now, by my faith,” Lord Howard said, | |
| “This is a gallant sight to see. | |
| |
| “Take in your ancients, standards eke, | 145 |
| To close that no man may them see; | |
| And put me forth a white willow wand, | |
| As merchants use to sail the sea.” | |
| But they stirred neither top nor mast; | |
| Stoutly they passed Sir Andrew by; | 150 |
| “What English churls are yonder,” he said, | |
| “That can so little curtesie? | |
| |
| “Now by the rood, three years and more | |
| I have been admiral over the sea, | |
| And never an English or Portugal, | 155 |
| Without my leave can pass this way.” | |
| Then called he forth his stout pinnace; | |
| “Fetch back yon peddlers now to me: | |
| I swear by the mass, yon English churls | |
| Shall all hang at my mainmast tree.” | 160 |
| |
| With that the pinnace it shot off: | |
| Full well Lord Howard might it ken; | |
| For it stroke down my lord’s foremast, | |
| And killed fourteen of his men. | |
| “Come hither, Simon,” says my lord, | 165 |
| “Look that thy word be true, thou said: | |
| For at the mainmast shalt thou hang, | |
| If thou miss thy mark one shilling bread.” | |
| |
| Simon was old, but his heart was bold: | |
| His ordinance he laid right low: | 170 |
| He put in chain full nine yards long, | |
| With other great shot less and moe, | |
| And he let go his great gun’s shott; | |
| So well he settled it with his ee, | |
| The first sight that Sir Andrew saw, | 175 |
| He saw his pinnace sunk in the sea. | |
| |
| And when he saw his pinnace sunk, | |
| Lord, how his heart with rage did swell! | |
| “Now, cut my ropes, it is time to be gone; | |
| I’ll fetch yon peddlers back mysell.” | 180 |
| When my lord saw Sir Andrew loose, | |
| Within his heart he was full fain; | |
| “Now spread your ancients, strike up drums, | |
| Sound all your trumpets out amain.” | |
| |
| “Fight on, my men,” Sir Andrew says, | 185 |
| “Weale, howsoever this gear will sway: | |
| It is my lord admiral of England, | |
| Is come to seek me on the sea.” | |
| Simon had a son who shot right well, | |
| That did Sir Andrew mickle scare; | 190 |
| In at his deck he gave a shot, | |
| Killed threescore of his men of war. | |
| |
| Then Henry Hunt, with vigor hot, | |
| Came bravely on the other side; | |
| Soon he drove down his foremast tree, | 195 |
| And killed fourscore men beside. | |
| “Now, out alas!” Sir Andrew cried, | |
| “What may a man now think or say? | |
| Yonder merchant thief that pierceth me, | |
| He was my prisoner yesterday. | 200 |
| |
| “Come hither to me, thou Gordon good, | |
| That aye was ready at my call; | |
| I will give thee three hundred pounds | |
| If thou wilt let my beams downfall.” | |
| Lord Howard he then called in haste, | 205 |
| “Horsely, see thou be true in stead; | |
| For thou shalt at the mainmast hang, | |
| If thou miss twelvescore one penny bread.” | |
| |
| Then Gordon swarved the mainmast tree, | |
| He swarvèd it with might and main; | 210 |
| But Horsely with a bearing arrow | |
| Stroke the Gordon through the brain; | |
| And he fell unto the haches again, | |
| And sore his deadly wound did bleed: | |
| Then word went through Sir Andrew’s men, | 215 |
| How that the Gordon he was dead. | |
| |
| “Come hither to me, James Hambilton, | |
| Thou art my only sister’s son; | |
| If thou wilt let my beams downfall, | |
| Six hundred nobles thou hast won.” | 220 |
| With that he swarved the mainmast tree, | |
| He swarvèd it with nimble art; | |
| But Horsely with a broad arrow | |
| Pierced the Hambilton through the heart; | |
| |
| And down he fell upon the deck, | 225 |
| That with his blood did stream amain: | |
| Then every Scot cried, “Walaway! | |
| Alas, a comely youth is slain!” | |
| All wo begone was Sir Andrew then, | |
| With grief and rage his heart did swell; | 230 |
| “Go fetch me forth my armor of proof, | |
| For I will to the topcastle mysell. | |
| |
| “Go fetch me forth my armor of proof, | |
| That gilded is with gold so clear; | |
| God be with my brother, John of Barton! | 235 |
| Against the Portugalls he it ware. | |
| And when he had on this armor of proof, | |
| He was a gallant sight to see; | |
| Ah! ne’er didst thou meet with living wight, | |
| My dear brother, could cope with thee.” | 240 |
| |
| “Come hither, Horsely,” says my lord, | |
| “And look your shaft that it go right; | |
| Shoot a good shot in time of need, | |
| And for it thou shalt be made a knight.” | |
| “I’ll shoot my best,” quoth Horsely then, | 245 |
| “Your honor shall see, with might and main; | |
| But if I were hanged at your mainmast, | |
| I have now left but arrows twain.” | |
| |
| Sir Andrew he did swarve the tree, | |
| With right goodwill he swarved it then, | 250 |
| Upon his breast did Horsely hitt, | |
| But the arrow bounded back again. | |
| Then Horsely spied a private place, | |
| With a perfect eye, in a secret part; | |
| Under the spole of his right arm | 255 |
| He smote Sir Andrew to the heart. | |
| |
| “Fight on, my men,” Sir Andrew says, | |
| “A little I’m hurt, but yet not slain; | |
| I’ll but lie down and bleed awhile, | |
| And then I’ll rise and fight again. | 260 |
| Fight on, my men,” Sir Andrew says, | |
| “And never flinch before the foe; | |
| And stand fast by St. Andrew’s cross, | |
| Until you hear my whistle blow.” | |
| |
| They never heard his whistle blow, | 265 |
| Which made their hearts wax sore adread: | |
| Then Horsely said, “Aboard, my lord, | |
| For well I wot Sir Andrew’s dead.” | |
| They boarded then his noble ship, | |
| They boarded it with might and main; | 270 |
| Eighteen score Scots alive they found, | |
| The rest were either maimed or slain. | |
| |
| Lord Howard took a sword in hand, | |
| And off he smote Sir Andrew’s head; | |
| “I must have left England many a day, | 275 |
| If thou wert alive as thou art dead.” | |
| He caused his body to be cast | |
| Over the hatchbord into the sea, | |
| And about his middle three hundred crowns: | |
| “Wherever thou land, this will bury thee.” | 280 |
| |
| Thus from the wars Lord Howard came, | |
| And back he sailèd o’er the main; | |
| With mickle joy and triumphing | |
| Into Thames’ mouth he came again. | |
| Lord Howard then a letter wrote, | 285 |
| And sealed it with seal and ring: | |
| “Such a noble prize have I brought to your grace | |
| As never did subject to a king. | |
| |
| “Sir Andrew’s ship I bring with me, | |
| A braver ship was never none; | 290 |
| Now hath your grace two ships of war, | |
| Before in England was but one.” | |
| King Henry’s grace with royal cheer | |
| Welcomed the noble Howard home; | |
| “And where,” said he, “is this rover stout, | 295 |
| That I myself may give the doom?” | |
| |
| “The rover, he is safe, my liege, | |
| Full many a fathom in the sea; | |
| If he were alive as he is dead, | |
| I must have left England many a day. | 300 |
| And your grace may thank four men in the ship, | |
| For the victory we have won; | |
| These are William Horsely, Henry Hunt, | |
| And Peter Simon, and his son.” | |
| |
| “To Henry Hunt,” the king then said, | 305 |
| “In lieu of what was from thee taen, | |
| A noble a day now thou shalt have, | |
| Sir Andrew’s jewels and his chain. | |
| And Horsely thou shalt be a knight, | |
| And lands and livings shalt have store; | 310 |
| Howard shall be Earl Surry hight. | |
| As Howards erst have been before. | |
| |
| “Now Peter Simon, thou art old, | |
| I will maintain thee and thy son; | |
| And the men shall have five hundred marks | 315 |
| For the good service they have done.” | |
| Then in came the queen with ladies fair, | |
| To see Sir Andrew Barton, knight; | |
| They weened that he were brought on shore, | |
| And thought to have seen a gallant sight. | 320 |
| |
| But when they see his deadly face, | |
| And eyes so hollow in his head, | |
| “I would give,” quoth the king, “a thousand marks, | |
| This man were alive as he is dead. | |
| Yet for the manful part he played, | 325 |
| Which fought so well with heart and hand, | |
| His men shall have twelvepence a day, | |
| Till they come to my brother king’s high land.” | |
