Shee ledd upp her souldiers in battaile array, Gainst three times theyr number by breake of the daye;

Seven howers in skirmish continued shee :

Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree? 40

She filled the skyes with the smoke of her shott,
And her enemyes bodyes with bullets so hott;
For one of her owne men a score killed shee:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
And when her false gunner, to spoyle her intent, 45
Away all her pellets and powder had sent, [three:
Straight with her keen weapon shee slasht him in
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
Being falselye betrayed for lucre of hyre,
At length she was forced to make a retyre;
Then her souldiers into a strong castle drew shee:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?

Her foes they besett her on everye side,
As thinking close siege shee cold never abide;
To beate down the walles they all did decree:
But stoutlye deffyd them brave Mary Ambree.

50

55

65

Ye captaines couragious, of valour so bold,
Whom thinke you before you now you doe behold?
A knight, sir, of England, and captaine soe free,
Who shortleye with us a prisoner must bee.

No, captaine of England; behold in your sight
Two brests in my bosome, and therfore no knight: 70
Noe knight, sirs, of England, nor captaine you see,
But a poor simple lass called Mary Ambree.

But art thou a woman, as thou dost declare,
Whose valor bath proved so undaunted in warre?
If England doth yield such brave lasses as thee, 75
Full well may they conquer, faire Mary Ambree.

The prince of Great Parma heard of her renowne
Who long had advanced for England's faire crowne;
Hee wooed her, and sued her his mistress to bee,
80
And offerd rich presents to Mary Ambree.

But this virtuous mayden despised them all,
Ile nere sell my honour for purple nor pall:
A mayden of England, sir, never will bee
The whore of a monarcke, quoth Mary Ambree.

Then to her owne country shee backe did returne, 85
Still holding the foes of faire England in scorne :
Therfore English captaines of every degree
Sing forth the brave valours of Mary Ambree.

XX.

Peregrine Bertie, Lord Willoughby of Eresby had, in the year 1586, distinguished himself at the siege of Zutphen, in the Low Countries. He was the year after, made general of the English forces in the United Provinces, in room of the Earl of Leicester, who was recalled. This gave him an opportunity of signalizing his courage and military skill in several actions against the Spaniards. One of these, greatly exaggerated by popular report, is probably the subject of this old ballad, which, on account of its flattering encomiums on English valour, hath always been a favourite with the people.

"My Lord Willoughbie (says a contemporary writer) was one of the queenes best swordsmen : ....he was a great master of the art military....I have heard it spoken, that had he not slighted the court, but applied himselfe to the queene, he might have enjoyed a plentifull portion of her grace; and it was his saying, and it did him no good, that he was none of the Reptilia; intimating, that he could not creepe on the ground, and that the court was not his element; for, indeed, as he was a great souldier, so he was of suitable magnanimitie, and could not brooke the obsequiousnesse and assiduitie of the court."(Naunton.)

Lord Willoughbie died in 1601.-Both Norris and Turner were famous among the military men of that age.

The subject of this ballad (which is printed from an old black-letter copy, with some conjectural emendations,) may possibly receive illustration from what Chapman says in the dedication to his version of Homer's Frogs and Mice, concerning the brave and memorable retreat of Sir John Norris, with only 1000 men, through the whole Spanish army, under the Duke of Parma, for three miles together.

THE fifteenth day of July,

With glistering spear and shield, A famous fight in Flanders Was foughten in the field: The most couragious officers

Were English captains three; But the bravest man in battel

Was brave Lord Willoughbèy.

The next was Captain Norris,
A valiant man was hee:

The other Captain Turner,

From field would never flee.

With fifteen hundred fighting men,

Alas! there were no more,

They fought with fourteen thousand then, Upon the bloody shore.

Stand to it noble pikemen,

And look you round about:

And shoot you right you bow-men,
And we will keep them out:
You musquet and calìver men,
Do you prove true to me,

l'le be the formost man in fight,
Says brave Lord Willoughbèy.

5

For yonder comes Lord Willoughbèy

With courage fierce and fell,

He will not give one inch of way For all the devils in hell.

The subject of this ballad is the taking of the city of Cadiz, (called by our sailors corruptly Cales) on June 21, 1596, in a descent made on the coast of Spain, under the command of the Lord Howard admiral, and the Earl of Essex general.

The valour of Essex was not more distinguished on this occasion than his generosity: the town was carried sword in hand, but he stopt the slaughter as soon as possible, and treated his prisoners with the greatest humanity, and even affability and kindness. The English made a rich plunder in the city, but missed of a much richer, by the resolution which the Duke of Medina the Spanish admiral took, of setting fire to the ships, in order to prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy. It was computed, that the loss which the Spaniards sustained from this enterprize, amounted to twenty millions of ducats. See Hume's History.

The Earl of Essex knighted on this occasion not fewer than sixty persons, which gave rise to the following sarcasm:

A gentleman of Wales, a knight of Cales,
Ånd a laird of the North country;
But a yeoman of Kent with his yearly rent
Will buy them out all three.

The ballad is printed, with some corrections, from the Editor's folio MS. and seems to have been composed by some person, who was concerned in the expedition. Most of the circumstances related in it will be found supported by history.

This beautiful old ballad most probably took its rise from one of these descents made on the Spanish coasts in the time of Queen Elizabeth; and in all likelihood from that which is celebrated in the foregoing ballad.

It was a tradition in the West of England, that the person admired by the Spanish lady was a gentleman of the Popham family, and that her picture, with the pearl necklace mentioned in the ballad, was not many years ago preserved at Littlecot, near Hungerford, Wilts, the seat of that respectable family.

Another tradition hath pointed out Sir Richard Levison, of Trentham, in Staffordshire, as the subject of this ballad; who married Margaret daughter of Charles Earl of Nottingham; and was eminently distinguished as a naval officer and commander in all the expeditions against the Spaniards in the latter end of Queen Elizabeth's reign, particularly in that to Cadiz in 1596, when he was aged 27. He died in 1605, and has a monument, with his effigy in brass, in Wolverhampton church.

It is printed from an ancient back letter copy, corrected in part by the Editor's folio MS.

WILL you hear a Spanish lady,

How shee wooed an English man?

Garments gay as rich as may be

Decked with jewels she had on.

Of a comely countenance and grace was she, And by birth and parentage of high degree.

5

As his prisoner there he kept her,
In his hands her life did lye ;
Cupid's bands did tye them faster
By the liking of an eye.

In his courteous company was all her joy,
To favour him in any thing she was not cov.

But at last there came commandment
For to set the ladies free,
With their jewels still adorned,
None to do them injury.
Then said this lady mild, Full woe is me;
O let me still sustain this kind captivity!

Gallant captain, shew some pity

To a ladye in distresse ; Leave me not within this city,

For to dye in heavinesse : Thou hast set this present day my body free, But my heart in prison still remains with thee.

"How should'st thou, fair lady, love me.

Whom thou knowst thy country's foe? Thy fair wordes make me suspect thee: Serpents lie where flowers grow."

10

15

25

All the harm I wishe to thee, most courteous knight, God grant the same upon my head may fully light. 30

Blessed be the time and season,

That you came on Spanish ground;

If our foes you may be termed,

Gentle foes we have you found:

-Is extracted from an ancient historical poem in XIII. Books, intitled, "Albion's England, by William Warner:" "An author (says a former Editor) only unhappy in the choice of his subject, and measure of bis verse. His poem is an epitome of the British history, and written with great learning, sense, and spirit; in some places fine to an extraordinary degree, as I think will eminently appear in the ensuing episode [of Argentile and Curan,]-a tale full of beautiful incidents in the romantic taste, extremely affecting, rich in ornament, wonderfully various in style; and in short, one of the most beautiful pastorals I ever met with." [Muses library, 1738. 8vo.] To his merit nothing can be objected, unless perhaps an affected quaintness in some of his expressions, and an indelicacy in some of his pastoral images.

Warner is said, by A. Woodt, to have been a Warwickshire man, and to have been educated in Oxford, at Magdalene-hall: as also in the latter part of his life to have been retained in the service of

Henry Cary Lord Hunsdon, to whom he dedicates his poem. However that may have been, new light is thrown upon his history, and the time and manner of his death are now ascertained, by the following extract from the parish register book of Amwell, in Hertfordshire; which was obligingly communicated to the editor by Mr. Hoole, the very ingenious translator of Tasso, &c.

[1608-1609.] "Master William Warner, a man of good yeares and of honest reputation; by his profession an Atturnye of the Common Pleas; author of Albions England, diynge suddenly in the night in his bedde, without any former complaynt or sicknesse, on thursday night beeinge the 9th daye of March; was buried the satturday following, and lyeth in the church at the corner under the stone of Walter Ffader." Signed Tho. Hassall Vicarius.

Though now Warner is so seldom mentioned, his Contemporaries ranked him on a level with Spenser, and called them the Homer and Virgil of their age*.

Ver. 86. So the folio MS. Other editions read his laws. Athen. Oxon.