The next of all my lord he did call,
A noble bowman he was one;
In Yorkshire was this gentleman borne,
And William Horsley was his name.
XV
‘Horsley,’ says he, ‘I must sayle to the sea,
To seek out an enemy; God be my speede!
Before all others I have chosen thee;
Of a hundred bowemen thou’st be my head.’
XVI
‘My lord,’ says he, ‘if you’ve chosen me
Of a hundred bowemen to be the head,
Hang me at your main-mast tree
If I miss my mark past twelve pence bread.’
XVII
With pikes, and gunnes, and bowmen bold,
This noble Howard is gone to the sea
On the day before Midsummer-even,
And out at Thames’ mouth saylèd they.
XVIII
They had not saylèd dayès three
Upon their journey they took in hand,
But there they met with a noble ship,
And stoutely made it both stay and stand.