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.*

* Breadth.

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,* 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,

*Twelvescore paces off.

Thou must tell me, lord Howard said,

Now who thou art and what's thy name, And show me where thy dwelling is,

And whither bound, and whence thou came. My name is Henry Hunt, quoth he

With a heavy heart, and a careful mind; I and my ship do both belong

To the Newcastle that stands upon Tyne.

Hast thou not heard, now, Henry Hunt,
As thou hast sailed by day and by night,
Of a Scottish rover on the seas;

Men call him sir Andrew Barton, knight?

Then ever he sighed, and said alas!

With a grieved mind, and well away! But over-well I know that wight,

I was his prisoner yesterday.

As I was sailing upon the sea,

A Bourdeaux voyage for to fare;

To his hatchboard he clasped me,

And robbed me of all my merchant ware:

Part of the side of the ship.

And mickle debts, God wot, I owe,
And every man will have his own,
And I am now to London bound,

Of our gracious king to beg a boon.

That shall not need, lord Howard says;
Let me but once that robber see,
For every penny ta'en thee fro'

It shall be doubled shillings three.
Now God forefend, the merchant said,
That you should seek so far amiss!
God keep you out of that traitor's hands!
Full little ye wot what a man he is.

He is brass within, and steel without,
With beams on his topcastle strong;

And eighteen pieces of ordinance

He carries on each side along : And he hath a pinnace dearly dight,*

St. Andrew's cross that is his guide; His pinnace beareth ninescore men, And fifteen cannons on each side.

* Fitted out.

I

Were ye twenty ships, and he but one,

I swear by kirk, and bower, and hall, He would overcome them every one,

If once his beams they do down fall. This is cold comfort, says my lord,

To welcome a stranger thus to the sea: Yet I'll bring him and his ship to shore, Or to Scotland he shall carry me.

Then a noble gunner you must have,
And he must aim well with his ee,
And sink his pinnace into the sea,

Or else he ne'er o'ercome will be:
And if you chance his ship to board,
This counsel I must give withal,

Let no man to his topcastle go

To strive to let his beams down fall.

And seven pieces of ordinance,

I pray your honour lend to me, On each side of my ship along, And I will lead you on the sea.