At Tunis in Barbary,

Now he buildeth stately

a gallant Palace, and a Royal place, Decked with delights most trim,

Fitter for a Prince then him,

the which at last will prove to his disgrace. To make the world to wonder,

This Captain is Commander,

of four and twenty ships of sail,

To bring in treasures from the sea
Into the markets every day,

the which the Turks do buy up without fail.

His name and state so mounteth,

These Countrey men accounteth

him equal to the Nobles of that Land, But these his honours we shall find Shortly blown up with the wind,

or prove like letters written in ye sand.

LV

The Sea-mans song of Dansekar the
Dutch-man,

bis Robberies done at Sea

To the same tune.

SING we (Sea-men) now and than,

Of Dansekar the Dutch-man,

whose gallant mind hath won him much renown.

To live on land he counts it base,

But seeks to purchase greater grace

by roving on the Ocean up and down.

His heart is so aspiring,
That now his chief desiring,

is for to win himself a worthy name, The Land hath far too little ground, The Sea is of a larger bound,

and of a greater dignity and fame.

Now many a worthy Gallant,

Of courage was most valiant,

with him have put their fortunes to the Sea. All the world about have heard,

Of Dansekar and English Ward,

and of their proud adventures every day.

There is not any Kingdom,

In Turkey or in Christendom,

but by these Pyrates have received loss: Merchant men of every Land,

Do dayly in great danger stand,

and much do fear the Ocean Main to cross.

They make children fatherless,

Woful widows in distresse,

in shedding blood they took too much delight. Fathers they bereave of Sons,

Regarding neither cries nor moans—

so much they joy to see a bloody fight.

They count it gallant hearing,

To hear the Canons roaring,

and Musket-shot to rattle in the sky: Their glories would be at the highest, To fight against the Foes of Christ,

and such as do our Christian faith_deny.

But their cursed Villanies,

And their bloody Pyracies,

are chiefly bent against our Christian friends: Some Christians so delight in evils,

That they become the sons of Divels,

and for the same have many shameful ends.

England suffers danger,

As well as any stranger,

nations are alike unto this company.

Many English Merchant-men,

And of London now and then,

have tasted of their vile extremity.

Londons Elizabeth,

Of late these Rovers taken have,

a Ship well laden with rich Merchandise, The nimble Pearl and Charity,

All Ships of gallant bravery,

are by these Pyrates made a lawful prize.

The Trojan of London,

With other ships many a one,

hath stooped sayl and yeelded out of hand, These Pyrates they have shed their bloods, And the Turks have bought their goods, being all too weak their power to with-stand.

Of Hull the Bonaventer,

Which was a great frequenter

and passer of the Straits to Barbary: Both ship and men late taken were, By Pyrates Ward and Dansekar, and brought by them into Captivity.

English Ward and Dansekar,
Begin greatly now to jar,

about dividing of their gotten goods, Both Ships and Souldiers gather head, Dansekar from Ward is fled,

so full of pride and malice are their bloods.

Ward doth only promise,

To keep about rich Tunis,

and be Commander of those Turkish Seas, But valiant Dutch-land Dansekar

Doth hover neer unto Argier,

and there his threatning colours now displays.

These Pyrates thus divided,

By God is sure provided,

in secret sort to work each others woe.

Such wicked courses cannot stand,

The Divel thus puts in his hand,

and God will give them soon an overthrow.

LVI

Captain Glen

THERE was a ship, and a ship of fame,

Launch'd off the stocks, bound to the main,
With a hundred and fifty brisk young men,
Was picked and chosen every one.

William Glen was our Captain's name:
He was a tall and brisk young man;
As good a sailor as went to sea,
For he was bound to New Barbary.

The first of April when we set sail,
Blest with a sweet and pleasant gale;
For we were bound to New Barbary,
With all our whole ship's Company.

We had not sailed one day but two,
Till all our whole ship's jovial crew
All fell sick but sixty-three,

As we went to New Barbary.

One night the Captain he did dream,
There came a voice and said to him,
Prepare you and your company,
To-morrow night you must be with me.

This wak'd the Captain in a fright,
It being the third watch of the night,
Then for his boatswain he did call,
And told to him the secret all.

When I in England did remain,
The holy Sabbath I did prophane,
In drunkenness I took delight,

Which doth my trembling soul affright.

There's one thing more I've to rehearse,
Which I shall mention in this verse,
A Knight I slew in Staffordshire,
All for the love of a Lady fair.

Now it's his Ghost, I am afraid,
That hath to me these tidings bred;
Altho' the king has pardon'd me,
He's daily in my Company.