The book of British ballads . gained fame;In Yorkshire was this gentleman borne, And William Horseley was his name. Horseley, sayd he, I must with speede Go seeke a traytor on the sea;And now of a hundred bowemen brave, To be the head I have chosen you, quoth hee, have chosen mee Of a hundred bowemen to be the head ;On your main-mast He hanged bee, If I miss twelvescore one penny bread. With pikes and gunnes, and bowemen bold, This noble Howard is gone to the sea ;With a valyant heart and a pleasant cheare, Out at Thames mouth sayled days he scant had sayled three, Upon the voya


The book of British ballads . gained fame;In Yorkshire was this gentleman borne, And William Horseley was his name. Horseley, sayd he, I must with speede Go seeke a traytor on the sea;And now of a hundred bowemen brave, To be the head I have chosen you, quoth hee, have chosen mee Of a hundred bowemen to be the head ;On your main-mast He hanged bee, If I miss twelvescore one penny bread. With pikes and gunnes, and bowemen bold, This noble Howard is gone to the sea ;With a valyant heart and a pleasant cheare, Out at Thames mouth sayled days he scant had sayled three, Upon the voyage, he tooke in hand,But there he mett with a noble shipp, And stoutely made itt stay and stand. Thou must tell me, Lord Howard said, Now who thou art, and whats thy name ;And shewe me where thy dwelling is : And whither bound, and whence thou came. My name is Henry Hunt, quoth hee, With a heavye heart, and a carefull mind ; I and my shipp doe both belong To the Newcastle, that stands upon Tyne. 361 \\\\ Sbfr ^nfrtcfo Hast thou not heard, nowe, Henry Hunt, As thou hast sayled by daye and by night,Of a Scottish rover on the seas ; Men call him Sir Andrew Barton, knight ?Then ever he sighed, and sayd, «Alas ! With a grieved mind, and well away !But over-well I knowe that wight, I was his prisoner yesterday. As I was sayling upon the sea, A Burdeaux voyage for to fare ;To his hachborde he clasped me, And robd me of all my merchant ware :And mickle debts, God wot, I owe, And every man will have his owne;And I am nowe to London bounde, Of our gracious king to beg a boone. That shall not need, Lord Howard sais ; Lett me but once that robber see,For every penny tane thee froe It shall be doubled shillings ; Nowe God forefend, the merchant said, That you shold seek soe far amisse !God keepe you out of that traitors hands! Full litle ye wott what a man hee is. Hee is brasse within, and Steele without, With beames on his topcastle stronge ;And eighteen pieces of ordina


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