A helmett of proofe shee strait did provide,
A ftrong arminge fword fhee girt by her fide,
On her hand a goodly faire gauntlett had fhee:
Was not this a brave bonny lafs, Mary Ambree.
Then tooke fhee her fworde and her targett in hand,
Bidding all fuch as wolde, bee of her band;
To wayt on her perfon came thousand and three:
Was not this a brave bonny lafs, Mary Ambree?
My fouldiers fo valiant and faithfull, fhe fayd,
Nowe followe your captaine, no longer a mayd;
Still formoft in battel my felfe will I bee:
Was not this a brave bonny laffe, Mary Ambree?
Then cryed out her fouldiers, and thus they did say,
Soe well thou becomeft this gallant array,
Thy harte and thy weapons foe well doe agree,
Noe mayden was ever like Mary Ambree.
Shee cheared her fouldiers, that foughten for life, With ancyent and flandard, with drum and with fife, With brave clanging trumpetts, that founded fo free; Was not this a brave bonny laffe, Mary Ambree?
Before I will fee the worst of you all
To come into danger of death, or of thrall,
This hand and this life I will venture fo free;
Was not this a brave bonny laffe, Mary Ambree?
Shee led upp her fouldiers in battel arraye,
Gainft three times theyr number by breake of the daye; Seven howers in fkirmifh continued fhee:
Was not this a brave bonny laffe, Mary Ambree?
She filled the skyes with the smoke of her shott,
And her enemyes bodyes with bulletts foe hott;
For one of her owne men a fcore killed fhee:
Was not this a brave bonny laffe, Mary Ambree?
And when her falfe gunner, to fpoyle her intent,
Away all her pelletts and powder had spent,
Straight with her keen weapon fhee flasht him in three:
Was not this a brave bonny laffe, Mary Ambree?
Being falfelye betrayed for lucre of hyre,
At length fhe was forced to make a retyre;
Then her foldiers into a ftrong caftle drew fhee;
Was not this a brave bonny laffe, Mary Ambree?
Her foes they befett her on every fide,
As thinking clofe fiege fhee cold never abide;
To beate down her walles they all did decree;
But ftoutlye deffyd them brave Mary Ambree.
Then tooke shee her fword and her targett in hand,
And mounting the walls all undaunted did ftand,
There daring the captaines to match any three:
what a brave captaine was Mary Ambree!
Now faye, English captaine, what woldest thou give
To ranfome thy felfe, which else must not live?
Come yield thyfelfe quicklye, or flaine thou must bee.
Then fmiled fweetlye, fair Mary Ambree.
Now captaines couragious, of valour foe bold, Whom thinke you before you that you doe behold? A knight, fir, of England, and captaine foe free, Who shortlye with us a prisoner must bee.
No captaine of England; behold in your fight
Two brefts in my bofome, and therfore noe knight:
Noe knight, firs, of England, nor captaine you see,
But a poor fimple mayden, calld Mary Ambree.
But art thou a woman, as thou doft declare,
Whofe valour hath provd foe undaunted in warre?
If England doth yield fuch brave maydens as thee,
Full well may they conquer, faire Mary Ambree !
The prince of Great Parma heard of her renowne, Who long had advanced for Englands faire crowne; Hee wooed her and fued her his miftrefs to bee, And offerd rich presents to Mary Ambree.
But this virtuous mayden despised them all,
Ile nere fell my honour for purple nor pall:
A mayden of Englande, fir, never will bee
The whore of a monarcke, quoth Mary Ambree,
Then to her owne country fhee backe did returne,
Still holding the foes of faire England in fcorne:
Therfore English captaines of every degree
Sing forth the brave valours of Mary Ambree.
THE MURDER OF THE KING OF
OE worth, woe worth thee, falfe Scotlande! For thou haft ever wrought by fleighte; The worthyeft prince that ever was borne, You hanged under a cloud by night.
The queene of France a letter wrote,
And fealed it with harte and ringe;
And bade him come Scotland within,
And fhee wold marry and crowne him kinge.
To be a king is a pleafant thing,
To be a prince unto a peere:
But you have heard, and fo have I,
A man may well buy gold too deare
There was an Italyan in that place,
Was as well beloved as ever was hee,
And David Riccio was his name,
Charmberlaine to the queene was hee.
If the king had rifen forth of his place,
Hee wold have fate him downe i' th' chaire,
Although it befeemed him not so well,
And though the kinge were prefent there.
Some lords in Scotlande waxed wroth,
And quarrelled with him for the nonce;
And I fhall tell how it befell,
Twelve daggers were in him att once.
When the queene fhe faw her chamberlaine flaine
For him her faire cheeks fhee did weete,
And made a vowe for a yeare and a day
The king and fhee wold not come in one sheete.
Then fome of the lords they waxed wroth,
And made their vow all vehementlye;
That for the death of the chamberlaine,
How hee, the king himselfe fholde dye.
With gun-powder they ftrewed his roome,
And layd greene rufhes in his waye;
For the traitors thought that very night
This worthye king for to betraye.
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