PART THE FIRST.
O ye are welcome, rich merchants;
Good sailors, welcome unto me.
They swore by the rood, they were sailors good,
But rich merchànts they could not be:
To France nor Flanders dare we pass,
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 shouldèr,
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 ship-boys,
To guide the great ship 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 shilling bread.[114]
My lord then chose a bowman rare,
Whose active hands had gained fame;
In Yorkshire 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-màst I'll hanged be,
If I miss, twelvescore,[115] one penny bread.
With pikes and guns, and bowmen bold,
This noble 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 noble ship,
And stoutly made it stay and stand.