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CHEN Flora with her fragrant Flowers

Bedeck'd the Earth so trim and gay, And Iris with her dainty Showers

Came to present the Month of May. King Henry would a Hunting ride,

Over the River of Thames pass'd he, Unto a Mountain Top also

Did walk some Pleasures for to see;

Where forty Merchants he espy'd,

With fifty Sail come towards him, Who then no sooner were arriv'd,

But on their Knees did thus complain :
An't please your Grace, we cannot fail

To France a Voyage to be sure,
But Sir Andrew Barton makes us quail,

And robs us of our Merchant-Ware.

Vext was the King, and turning him,

Said to the Lords of high Degree, Have I ne'er a Lord within my Realm,

Dares fetch that Traytor unto me ? To him reply'd Charles Lord Howard,

I will, my Liege, with Heart and Hand, If't please you grant me leave, said he,

I will perform what you command.

To him then spoke King Henry,

I fear, my Lord, You are too young. No whit at all, my Liege, quoth he,

I hope to prove in Valour strong:
The Scotch Knight now I vow to seek,

In what Place foe'er he be,
And bring Afhore with all his might,

Or into Scotland he shall carry me.

A hun

A hundred Men, the King then said,

Out of my Realm shall chosen be; Besides Sailors and Ship-boys,

To guide a great Ship on the Sea; Bow-men and Gunners of good Skill,

Shall for this Service chosen be; And they at thy Command and Will,

In all Affairs shall wait on thee.

Lord Howard call'd a Gunner then,

Who was the best in all the Realm, His Age was Threescore Years and ten,

And Peter Simon was his Name: My Lord call’d then a Bow-man rare,

Whose active Hands had gained Fame A Gentleman born in Yorkshire,

And William Horfely was his Name.
Horsely, quoth he, I must to Sea,

To seek a Traytor with good speed,
Of a Hundred Bow-men brave, quoth he,

I have chosen thee to be the Head.
If you, my Lord, have chosen me

Of a Hundred Men to be the Head, Upon the Main-mast I'll hanged be,

If Twelvescore I miss one Shilling's breadth. Lord Howard then of Courage bold,

Went to the Sea with pleasant Chear, Not curb'd with Winter's piercing Cold,

Tho''twas the stormy Time of Year. Not long he had been on the Sea,

More in Days than Number three,
But one Harry Hunt there he espy'd,

A Merchant of Newcastle was he ;
To him Lord Howard call'd out amain,

And strictly charged him to stand,
Demanding then from whence he came,

Or where he did intend to land.


The Merchant then made Answer soon,

With heavy Heart and careful Mind,
My Lord, My Ship it doth belong

Unto Newcastle upon Tine.
Canst thou shew me, the Lord did say,

As thou didst sail by Day and Night,
A Scottish Rover on the Sea,

His Name is Andrew Barton, Knight? At this the Merchant figh'd and said,

With grieved Mind and Well-away,
But over-well I know that Wight,

I was his Prisoner Yesterday.
As I, my Lord, did fail from France,

A Bordcaux Voyage to take so far,
I met with Sir Andrew Barton thence,

Who robb’d me of my Merchant-ware
And mickle Debts God knows I owe,

And every Man doth crave his own, And I am bound to London now,

Of our gracious King to beg a Boon.
Shew me him, faid Lord Howard then,

Let me once the Villain fee,
And e’ry Penny he hath from thee ta'n,

I'll double the same with Shillings three.
Now God forbid, the Merchant said,

I fear your Aim that you will miss; God bless you from his Tyranny,

For little you think what Man he is. He is Brass within, and Steel without,

His Ship most huge and mighty strong, With eighteen Pieces of Ordnance,

He carrieth on each side along : With Beams for his Top-castle,

As being also huge and high, That neither English nor Portugal

Can Sir Andrew Barton pals by.


Hard News thou show'st, then said the Lord,

To welcome Strangers to the Sea ; But as I said, I'll bring hiin Aboard,

Or into Scotland he shall carry me. The Merchant said, If you will do so,

Take Counsel then I pray withal, Let no Man to his Top-castle go,

Nor strive to let his Beams down fall:

Lend me seven Pieces of Ordnance then

On each side of my Ship, said he, And by to Morrow, my good Lord,

Again I will your Honour fee: A Glass I set, as may be seen,

Whether you fail by Day or Night, And to Morrow be sure before seven,

You shall see Sir Andrew Barton, Knight.
The Merchant set my Lord a Glass,

So well apparent in his Sight,
That on the Morrow, as his Promise was,

He saw Sir Andrew Barton, Knight.
The Lord then swore a mighty Oath,

Now by the Heavens that be of Might, By Faith, believe me, and by Troth,

I think he is a worthy Knight. Fetch me my Lyon out of Hand,

Saith he, with Rose and Streamer high, Set up withal a Willow-wand,

That Merchant-like I may pass by. Thus bravely did Lord Howard pass,

And on Anchor rise so high ; No Top-fail at last he cast,

But as a Foe did him defy. Sir Andrew Barton seeing him

Thus scornfully to pass by, As tho' he cared not a Pin

For him and his Company :


Then call'd he for his Men amain,

Fetch back yon Pedlar now, quoth he,
And e'er this way he come again,

I'll teach himn well his Courtesy.
A Piece of Ordnance soon was shot,

By this proud Pyrate fiercely then,
Into Lord Howard's middle Deck,

Which cruel Shot kill'd fourteen Men. He call'd then Peter Simon, he,

Look how thy Word do stand in stead; For thou shalt be hanged on Main-mast,

If thou miss Twelvescore one Penny breadth. Then Peter Simon gave a Shot,

Which did Sir Andrew mickle scare, In at his Deck it came so hot,

Kill'd fifteen of his Men of War: Alas, then said the Pyrate stout,

I am in Danger now I see ; This is some Lord, I greatly fear,

That is set on to conquer me. Then Henry Hunt with Rigour hot,

Came bravely on the other side, Who likewise shot in at his Deck,

And kill'd fifty of his Men beside: Then, out, alas, Sir Andrew cry'd,

What may a Man now think or say ? Yon Merchant thief that pierceth me,

He was my Prisoner Yesterday.
Then did he on Gordion call,

Unto the Top-castle for to go,
And bid his Beams he should let fall,

For he greatly fear'd an Overthrow.
The Lord call'd Horsely then in hase,

Look that thy Word stand in stead,
For thou shalt be hanged on Main-mast,
If thou miss Twelvescore a Shilling's breadth.


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