Part 14 (2/2)

My name is Henry Hunt, quoth he With a heavy heart, and a careful mind; I and my s.h.i.+p do both belong To the Newcastle that stands upon Tyne.

Hast thou not heard, now, Henry Hunt, As thou hast sailed by day and by night, Of a Scottish rover on the seas; Men call him sir Andrew Barton, knight?

Then ever he sighed, and said alas!

With a grieved 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; To his hatchboard[116] he clasped me, And robbed me of all my merchant ware: And mickle debts, G.o.d wot, I owe, And every man will have his own, And I am now to London bound, 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 ta'en thee fro'

It shall be doubled s.h.i.+llings three.

Now G.o.d forefend, the merchant said, That you should seek so far amiss!

G.o.d keep you out of that traitor's hands!

Full little ye wot what a man he is.

He is bra.s.s within, and steel without, With beams on his topcastle strong; And eighteen pieces of ordinance He carries on each side along: And he hath a pinnace dearly dight,[117]

St. Andrew's cross that is his guide; His pinnace beareth ninescore men, And fifteen cannons on each side.

Were ye twenty s.h.i.+ps, and he but one, I swear by kirk, and bower, and hall, He would overcome them every one, If once his beams they do down fall.

This is cold comfort, says my lord, To welcome a stranger thus to the sea: Yet I'll bring him and his s.h.i.+p to sh.o.r.e, Or to Scotland he shall carry me.

Then a n.o.ble gunner you must have, And he must aim well with his ee, And sink his pinnace into the sea, Or else he ne'er o'ercome will be: And if you chance his s.h.i.+p to board, This counsel I must give withal, Let no man to his topcastle go To strive to let his beams down fall.

And seven pieces of ordinance, I pray your honour lend to me, On each side of my s.h.i.+p along, And I will lead you on the sea.

A gla.s.s I'll set, that may be seen, Whether you sail by day or night; And to-morrow, I swear, by nine of the clock You shall meet with Sir Andrew Barton, knight.

PART THE SECOND.

The merchant set my lord a gla.s.s So well apparent in his sight, And on the morrow, by nine of the clock, He showed him Sir Andrew Barton, knight.

His hatchboard it was gilt with gold, So dearly dight it dazzled the ee: Now by my faith, lord Howard says, This is a gallant sight to see.

Take in your ancients,[118] standards eke, So 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;[119]

Stoutly they pa.s.sed Sir Andrew by.

What English churls are yonder, he said, That can so little courtesy?

Now by the rood, three years and more, I have been admiral over the sea; And never an English nor Portingall[120]

Without my leave can pa.s.s this way.

Then called he forth his stout pinnace; Fetch back yon pedlars now to me: I swear by the ma.s.s, yon English churls Shall all hang at my main-mast tree.

With that the pinnace it shot off, Full well lord Howard might it ken; For it stroke down my lord's fore mast, And killed fourteen of his men.

Come hither, Simon, says my lord, Look that thy word be true, thou said; For at my main-mast thou shalt hang, If thou miss thy mark one s.h.i.+lling bread.

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