That men soe faine wold win.
19
But when he looket this writing on,
Lord, in is hart he was woe!
Saies, I will find thee, Captaine Carre,
Wether thou ryde or goe!
20
Buske yee, bowne yee, my merrymen all,
With tempered swords of steele,
For till I haue found out Captaine Carre,