‘Come hither, Simon!’ sayes my lord Haward,
‘Looke that thy words be true thou sayd;
I’le hang thee att my maine-mast tree
If thou misse thy marke past twelue pence bread.’
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Simon was old, but his hart itt was bold;
Hee tooke downe a peece, and layd itt ffull lowe;
He put in chaine yeards nine,
Besids other great shott lesse and more.
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