ey gave a shout,
Which echoed through the sky,
God, and St. George for England!
The conquerors did cry.

This news was brought to England
With all the speed might be,
And soon our gracious queen was told
Of this same victory.
O this is brave lord Willoughbey,
My love that ever won,
Of all the lords of honour,
'Tis he great deeds hath done.

To the soldiers that were maimed,
And wounded in the fray,
The queen allowed a pension
Of fifteen pence a day;
And from all costs and charges
She quit and set them free:
And this she did all for the sake
Of brave lord Willoughbey.

Then courage, noble Englishmen,
And never be dismayed:
If that we be but one to ten,
We will not be afraid
To fight with foreign enemies,
And set our nation free.
And thus I end the bloody bout
Of brave lord Willoughbey.

FOOTNOTES:

[124] Peregrine Bertie, Lord Willoughbey of Eresby, died 1601.

[125] A kind of gun.

KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CANTERBURY.

An ancient story I'll tell you anon
Of a notable prince, that was called king John;
And he ruled England with main and with might,
For he did great wrong, and maintain'd little right.

And I'll tell you a story, a story so merry,
Concerning the Abbot of Canterbury;
How for his house-keeping, and high renown,
They rode post for him to fair London town.

An hundred men, the king did hear say,
The abbot kept in his house every day;
And fifty gold chains, without any doubt,
In velvet coats waited the abbot about.

How now, father abbot, I hear it of thee,
Thou keepest a far better house than me,
And for thy house-keeping and high renown,
I fear thou work'st treason against my crown.

My liege, quoth the abbot, I would it were known,
I never spend nothing, but what is my own;
And I trust, your grace will do me no deer,[126]
For spending of my own true-gotten gear.

Yes, yes, father abbot, thy fault it is high,
And now for the same thou needest must die;
For except thou canst answer me questions three,
Thy head shall be smitten from thy body.

And first, quoth the king, when I'm in this stead,[127]
With my crown of gold so fair on my head,
Among all my liege-men so noble of birth,
Thou must tell me to one penny what I am