But fell down in a trance a.
A pardon, a pardon, my liege and my king,
For my merry men and for me a:
And all the churls in merry England
I’ll bring them bound to thee a.
And Nichol was then a Cornish man
A little beside Bohyde a;
He manned him forth a goodly bark,
With fifty good oars of a side a.