Part 14 (1/2)

[104] Writing.

[105] Together.

[106] Unless.

[107] Counsel.

[108] Lingered.

[109] Hole in the window.

[110] Worthless fellow.

[111] Wild.

[112] Disgraced.

SIR ANDREW BARTON.

PART THE FIRST.

When Flora with her fragrant flowers Bedecked the earth so trim and gay, And Neptune with his dainty showers Came to present the month of May, King Henry rode to take the air, 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 sailors, welcome unto me.

They swore by the rood, they were sailors good, But rich merchants they could not be: To France nor Flanders dare we pa.s.s, Nor Bordeaux voyage dare we fare;[113]

And all for a rover that lies on the seas, 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.

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, And an angry look then looked he: Have I never a lord in all my realm, Will fetch yon traitor unto me?

Yea, that dare I, lord Howard says; Yea, that dare I with heart and hand; If it please your grace to give me leave, Myself will be the only man.

Thou art but young, the king replied; Yon Scot hath numbered many a year.

Trust me, my liege, I'll make him quail, Or before my prince I will never appear.

Then bowmen and gunners thou shalt have, And choose them over my realm so free; Besides good mariners, and s.h.i.+p-boys, To guide the great s.h.i.+p on the sea.

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, 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, Then hang me up on your main-mast tree, If I miss my mark one s.h.i.+lling bread.[114]

My lord then chose a bowman rare, Whose active hands had gained fame; In Yorks.h.i.+re was this gentleman born, 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.

If you, quoth he, have chosen me Of a hundred bowmen to be the head, On your main-mast I'll hanged be, If I miss, twelvescore,[115] one penny bread.

With pikes and guns, and bowmen bold, This n.o.ble Howard is gone to the sea; With a valiant heart and a pleasant cheer, Out at Thames mouth sailed he.

And days he scant had sailed three Upon the voyage he took in hand, But there he met with a n.o.ble s.h.i.+p, 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, And whither bound, and whence thou came.