23

Like tydings to King Henery came,
within as short a space,

That Pearcy of Northumberland
was slaine in Cheuy Chase.

"Now God be with him!" said our king,

"Yett shall not Scotts nor Scottland say
but I will vengeance take,

And he revenged on them all
for braue Erle Percyes sake."

This vow the king did well performe
after on Humble-downe;

In one day fifty knights were slayne,
with lords of great renowne.

And of the rest, of small account,
did many hundreds dye:

Thus endeth the hunting in Cheuy Chase,
made by the Erle Pearcye.

God saue our king, and blesse this land with plentye, ioy, and peace,

And grant hencforth that foule debate twixt noble men may ceaze!

JOHNIE ARMSTRONG

THERE dwelt a man in faire Westmerland,
Ionnë Armestrong men did him call,
He had nither lands nor rents coming in,
Yet he kept eight score men in his hall.

He had horse and harness for them all,
Goodly steeds were all milke-white;

O the golden bands an about their necks,
And their weapons, they were all alike.

Newes then was brought unto the king
That there was sicke a won1 as hee,
That lived lyke a bold out-law,

And robbed all the north country.

The king he writt an letter then,

A letter which was large and long;

He signed it with his owne hand,

And he promised to doe him no wrong.

When this letter came Ionnë untill,

His heart it was as blythe as birds on the tree: "Never was I sent for before any king,

My father, my grandfather, nor none but mee.

"And if wee goe the king before,

I would we went most orderly;

Every man of you shall have his scarlet cloak,
Laced with silver laces three.

"Every won of you shall have his velvett coat,
Laced with sillver lace so white;

O the golden bands an about your necks,
Black hatts, white feathers, all alyke."

By the morrow morninge at ten of the clock,
Towards Edenburough gon was hee,

And with him all his eight score men;

Good lord, it was a goodly sight for to see!

When Ionne came befower the king,
He fell downe on his knee;

"O pardon, my soveraine leige," he said,
"O pardon my eight score men and mee!"

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1 Such a one.

"Thou shalt have no pardon, thou traytor strong, For thy eight score men nor thee;

For to-morrow morning by ten of the clock,

Both thou and them shall hang on the gallow-tree."

But Ionnë look'd over his left shoulder,

Good Lord, what a grevious look looked hee! Saying, "Asking grace of a graceles faceWhy there is none for you nor me."

But Ionne had a bright sword by his side,
And it was made of the mettle so free,
That had not the king stept his foot aside,
He had smitten his head from his faire boddë.

Saying, "Fight on, my merry men all,

And see that none of you be taine;
For rather then men shall say we were hange'd,
Let them report how we were slaine."

Then, God wott, faire Eddenburrough rose,
And so besett poore Ionnë rounde,
That fowerscore and tenn of Ionnes best men
Lay gasping all upon the ground.

Then like a mad man Ionne laide about,
And like a mad man then fought hee,
Untill a falce Scot came Ionne behinde,
And runn him through the faire boddee.

Saying, "Fight on, my merry men all,

And see that none of you be taine;
For I will stand by and bleed but awhile,

And then will I come and fight againe."

Newes then was brought to young Ionne Armestrong,
As he stood by his nurses knee,

Who vowed if ere he live'd for to be a man,
O the treacherous Scots revengd hee'd be.

24

CAPTAIN CAR

IT befell at Martynmas,

When wether waxed colde,
Captaine Care said to his men,
We must go take a holde.

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Syck, sike, and to-towe sike,
And sike and like to die;
The sikest nighte that euer I abode,
God lord haue mercy on me! 1

Haille, master, and wether you will,
And wether ye like it best";

To the castle of Crecrynbroghe,

And there we will take our reste."

"I knowe wher is a gay castle,
Is builded of lyme and stone;
Within their is a gay ladie,

Her lord is riden and gone."

The ladie she lend' on her castle-walle,
She loked vpp and downe;

There was she ware of an host of men,
Come riding to the towne.

She thought he had ben her wed lord,
As he comd riding home;

Then was it traitur Captaine Care,
The lord of Ester-towne.

The refrain here, as often, has no significance for the story.

2 Leaned.

They wer no soner at supper sett,
Then after said the grace,

Or Captaine Care and all his men
Wer lighte aboute the place.

Gyue ouer thi howsse, thou lady gay,
And I will make the a bande;

3

To-nighte thou shall ly within my armes,
To-morrowe thou shall ere my lande."

Then bespacke the eldest sonne,
That was both whitt and redde:

"O mother dere, geue ouer your howsse,
Or elles we shalbe deade."

"I will not geue ouer my hous," she saithe,

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Not for feare of my lyffe;

It shalbe talked throughout the land,

The slaughter of a wyffe.

"Fetch me my pestilett,*

And charge me my gonne,

That I may shott at yonder bloddy butcher,

The lord of Easter-towne."

Styfly vpon her wall she stode,

And lett the pellettes flee;

But then she myst the blody bucher,

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And she slew other three.

'[I will] not geue ouer my hous," she saithe,

"I desire of Captaine Care,

And all his bloddye band,

That he would saue my eldest sonne,