A text made from #b# and #c# is printed by Weber, Flodden Fi_The English and Scottish popular ballads, volume 3 (of 5)

and by R. H. Evans, Old Ballads, 1810, III, 58. #b#, #c# lack all that

follows 102 except 103, with which all three copies alike end. This

stanza makes a natural conclusion to the vindication of Lancashire,

Cheshire and the Earl of Derby, and what intervenes in #a#, after 102,

seems to be an interpolation. Nevertheless I have preferred to give the

Percy text (though the others are not inferior to it, and possess the

unity which has to be brought about in this case by transferring the

last stanza), on account of the pleasing story How Rowland Egerton came

to the lordship of Ridley, 107–119, which would make no bad ballad by

itself.

At the battle of Flodden, the right wing of the van, commanded by Sir

Edmund Howard, the third son of the Earl of Surrey, was routed by the

Scots under Lord Home, Chamberlain of Scotland, and the Earl of Huntly.

“Edmund Howard had with him a thousand Cheshire men, and five hundred

Lancashire men, and many gentlemen of Yorkshire, on the right wing of

the lord Howard; and the Lord Chamberlain of Scotland, with many lords,

did set on him, and the Cheshire and Lancashire men never abode stroke,

and few of the gentlemen of Yorkshire abode, but fled.... And the said

Edmund Howard was thrice felled, and to his relief the lord Dacre came,

with fifteen hundred men.”[219] On the other hand, the Cheshire and

Lancashire men of the extreme left, under command of Sir Edward Stanley,

discomfited the Scottish division of Lennox and Argyle. King Henry

received the news of the victory while he was lying before Tournay, “and

highly praised the Earl, and the Lord Admiral and his son, and all the

gentlemen and commons that were at that valiant enterprise; howbeit, the

king had a secret letter that the Cheshire men fled from Sir Edmund

Howard, which letter caused great heart-burning and many words; but the

king thankfully accepted all thing, and would no man to be

dispraised.”[220]

This poem, a history in the ballad style, was composed to vindicate the

behavior of Lancashire and Cheshire at Flodden, and to glorify the

Stanleys;[221] in the accomplishment of which objects it becomes

incumbent upon the minstrel to expose the malice of the Earl of Surrey,

to whom he imputes the “wrong writing” which caused such heart-burning.

The Earl of Surrey sends a letter by a herald to King Henry, then at

Tournay. The king asks the news before he breaks the seal, and who

fought and who fled. The herald answers that King James is slain, and

that Lancashire and Cheshire fled; no man of the Earl of Derby’s durst

face the foe. The king opens the letter, which confirms the herald’s

report, and calls for the Earl of Derby. Sir Ralph Egerton suggests that

if Lancashire and Cheshire fled, it must have been because they had a

Howard, and not a Stanley, for their captain. The Earl of Derby comes

before the king, and says the same; let him have Lancashire and

Cheshire, and he will burn up all Scotland and conquer to Paris gate.

The king says cowards will fight to retrieve what they have lost. We

were never cowards, rejoins Derby; who brought in your father at Milford

Haven? (It was not precisely the Stanleys.) The king turns away; the

Duke of Buckingham is ready to lay his life that all this comes from a

false writing of the Earl of Surrey.[222] Derby is not to be comforted,

and breaks out in farewells to all his kith and kin, Edward Stanley,

John Stanley, and many more; they must be slain, for they never would

flee. The Earl of Shrewsbury bids him take heart; Derby goes on with

farewells to Lancaster, Latham, and all familiar places. In the midst of

his exclamations, James Garsed, “Long Jamie,” a yeoman of the guard,

comes flying to the Earl of Derby for protection: he had killed two men,

and wounded three. Derby’s intercession can do only harm now, but he

will ask friends to speak for Jamie. A messenger arrives from the king

ordering Long Jamie to be delivered up; he is to be hanged. Buckingham

takes Jamie by one arm and Shrewsbury takes him by the other, and with

Derby in front and many gentlemen following, they go to the king.

Welcome, dukes and earls, says the king, but most welcome of all our

traitor, Long Jamie! Jamie, how durst thou show thyself in our presence

after slaying thy brethren? Jamie explains that his fellows had called

him coward, and bidden him flee to that coward the Earl of Derby. The

Earl of Derby had befriended him when he was little and maintained him

till he was able to shoot. Then one day a Scottish minstrel brought King

Henry a bow which none of his guard could bend. Jamie shot seven times

with it, and the eighth time broke it; then told the Scot to pick up the

pieces and take them to his king; upon which Henry had made him yeoman

of the guard, thanks to His Grace and to the Earl of Derby who had

brought him up. And now, to have the earl taunted, to be false to the

man who had been true to him—he had rather die. Stand up, Jamie, says

the King; have here my charter; but let there be no more fighting while

you are in France. Then you must grant me one thing, says Jamie—that he

that abuses Lancashire or Cheshire shall die; and the king commands

proclamation to be made that any man abusing Lancashire or Cheshire

shall have his judgment on the next tree. The next morning comes a

messenger from the queen wishing the king joy, for his brother-in-law,

King Jamie, is slain. Henry asks again, Who fought and who fled?

“Lancashire and Cheshire have done the deed,” is the reply; “had not the

Earl of Derby been true to thee, England had been in great hazard.” The

king on the moment promotes Edward and John Stanley and ‘Rowland’

Egerton, who had fought with Edward. Buckingham runs for Derby, and the

king welcomes the earl, and returns to him all that he had taken from

him. But one thing grieveth me still, says Derby—to have been called

coward yesterday. “It was a wrong writing that came from the Earl of

Surrey,” says the king, “but I shall teach him to know his prince.”

Derby asks no more than to be judge over Surrey, and the king makes him

so; as he says, so it shall be. “Then his life is saved,” says the earl;

“if my uncle slew his father” (but, as before said, there was no

occasion for uneasiness on that score), “he would have taken vengeance

on me.” And so the glory is all shifted to Derby, and nothing remains

for Surrey.

The minstrel goes on to speak of the surrender of Tournay, and then of

an essay of the king’s to reward an Egerton for good service done.[223]

Egerton would be glad to have his reward in Cheshire. The king has

nothing there to give but five mills at Chester; Egerton does not wish

to be called a miller. The king offers the forest of Snowdon; Egerton,

always kneeling on his knee, does not wish to be called a ranger.

Nothing will please thee, Egerton, says the king; but Egerton asks for

Ridley in Cheshire, and gets it.

The last twelve verses profess to enumerate Henry Eighth’s victories in

France: ‘Hans and Gynye’ (neither of which I recognize, unless Gynye

stands for Guinegatte, the Battle of the Spurs), Tournay and Thérouanne,

these in the campaign of 1513, and Boulogne and Montreuil[224] during

the invasion of 1544.

Now let vss talke of [the] Mount of Flodden,

Fforsooth such is our chance,

And let vs tell what tydings the Ear[l]e of Surrey

Sent to o_u_r k_ing_ into France.

The earle he hath a writting made,

And sealed it w_i_th his owne hand;

From the Newcastle vpon Tine

The herald passed from the land.

And after to Callice hee arriued,

Like a noble leed of high degree,

And then to Turwin soone he hyed,

There he thought to haue found K_ing_ Henery.

But there the walls were beaten downe,

And our English soldiers therin laine;

Sith to Turnay the way hee nume,

Wheras lay the emperour of Almaine,

And there he found the k_ing_ of England,

Blessed Iesus, p_re_serve _tha_t name!

When the herald came before o_u_r k_ing_,

Lowlye he fell downe on his knee,

And said, Christ, christen k_ing_, _tha_t on the cross dyed,

Noble K_ing_ Henery, this day thy speed may bee!

The first word _tha_t the prince did minge,

Said, Welcome, herald, out of England, to me!

How fares my leeds? how fares my lords?

My knights, my esq_uie_rs, in their degree?

‘Heere greeteth you well yo_u_r owne leae_tena_nt,

The Honorable Erle of Surrey;

He bidds you in Ffrance to venter yo_u_r chance,

For slaine is yo_u_r brother, K_ing_ Iamye,

And att louelie London you shall him finde,

My comelye prince, in the p_re_sence of thee.’

Then bespake our comlye king,

Said, Who did fight and who did flee?

And who bore him best of the Mount of Fflodden?

And who was false, and who was true to me?

‘Lancashire and Cheshire,’ sayd the messenger,

‘Cleane they be fled and gone;

There was nere a man that longd to the Er_le_ of Darby

_Tha_t durst looke his enemyes vpon.’

S[t]ill in a study stood o_u_r noble k_ing_,

And tooke the writting in his hand;

Shortlye the seale he did vnclose,

And readilye he read as he found.

Then bespake our comlye k_ing_,

And called vpon his chiualree,

And said, Who will feitch me the K_ing_ of Man,

The Honno_ra_bl_e_ Thomas Erle of Darbye?

He may take Lancashire and Cheshire,

_Tha_t he hath called the cheefe of chiualree;

Now falsely are they fled and gone,

Neuer a one of them is true to mee!

Then bespake S_i_r Raphe Egerton, the k_night_,

And lowlye kneeled vpon his knee,

And said, My soueraigne lo_rd_, K_ing_ Henery,

If it like yo_u_r Grace to pardon mee,

If Lancashire and Cheshire be fled and gone,

Of those tydings wee may be vnfaine;

But I dare lay my life and lande

It was for want of their capt_aine_.

For if the Erle of Derby our capt_aine_ had beene,

And vs to lead in our arraye,

Then noe Lancashire man nor Cheshire

_Tha_t euer wold haue fled awaye.

‘Soe it prooued well,’ said our noble k_ing_,

‘By him _tha_t deerlye dyed vpon a tree!

Now when wee had the most neede,

Falslye they serued then to mee.’

Then spake W_illia_m Brewerton, k_night_,

And lowlye kneeled his prince before,

And sayd, My soueraigne k_ing_, Henery the Eighth,

If yo_u_r Grace sett by vs soe little store,

Wheresoeuer you come in any feild to fight,

Set the Earle of Darby and vs before;

Then shall you see wether wee fight or flee,

Trew or false whether we be borne.

Compton rowned w_i_th our k_ing_,

And said, Goe wee and leaue the cowards right;

‘Heere is my gloue to thee,’ q_uo_th Egerton,

‘Compton, if thou be a k_nigh_t.

‘Take my gloue, and w_i_th me fight,

Man to man, if thou wilt turne againe;

For if our prince were not p_re_sent right,

The one of vs two shold be slaine,

‘And neu_er_ foote beside the ground gone

Vntill the one dead shold bee.’

Our prince was moued theratt anon,

And returned him right teenouslye.

And to him came on the other hand

The Honno_ra_ble Erle of Darbye;

And when he before our prince came,

He lowlye kneeled vpon his knee,

And said, Iesu Christ, _tha_t on the crosse dyed,

This day, noble Henery, thy speed may bee!

The first word _tha_t the k_ing_ did speake,

Sayd, Welcome, K_ing_ of Man and Erle of Darbye!

How likest thou Cheshire and Lancashire both,

W_hi_ch were counted cheefe of chiualree?

Falslye are they fled and gone,

And neu_er_ a one is trew to mee.

‘If _tha_t be soe,’ said the erle free,

‘My leege, therof I am not faine;

My comlye prince, rebuke not mee,

I was not there to be there capt_aine_.

‘If I had beene their capt_aine_,’ the erle said then,

‘I durst haue layd both liffe and land

He neu_er_ came out of Lancashire nor Cheshire

That wold haue fledd beside the ground.

‘But if it like yo_u_r noble Grace

A litle boone to grant itt mee,

Lett me haue Lancashire and Cheshire both,

I desire noe more helpe trulye;

‘If I ffayle to burne vp all Scottland,

Take me and hang me vpon a tree!

I, I shall conquer to Paris gate,

Both comlye castles and towers hye.

‘Wheras the walls beene soe stronge,

Lancashire and Cheshire shall beate them downe.’

‘By my fathers soule,’ sayd our k_ing_,

‘And by him _tha_t dyed on the roode,

‘Thou shalt neu_er_ haue Lancashire nor Cheshire right

Att thy owne obedyence for to bee!

Cowards in a feild felly will fight

Againe to win the victorye.’

‘Wee were neu_er_ cowards,’ said the erle,

‘By him _tha_t deerlye dyed on tree!

Who brought in yo_u_r father att Milford Hauen?

K_ing_ Henery the Seuenth forsooth was hee.

‘Thorow the towne of Fortune wee did him bring,

And soe convayd him to Shrewsburye,

And soe crowned him a noble k_ing_;

And Rich_ard_ _tha_t day wee deemed to dye.’

Our prince was greatlye moued at _tha_t worde,

And returned him hastilye againe;

To comfort the erle came on the other hande

The doughtye Edward, Duk of Buckingam.

‘Plucke vp thy hart, brother Stanlye,

And lett nothing greeiue thee!

For I dare lay my liffe to wedd

It is a false writing of the Erle of Surrey.

‘Sith K_ing_ Rich_ard_ felle, he neu_er_ loued thee,

For thy vnckle slue his father deere,

And deerlye deemed him to dye;

S_i_r _Christ_opher Savage his standard away did beare.’

‘Alas, brother,’ sayd the Erle of Darbye,

‘Woe be the time _tha_t I was made k_nigh_t,

Or were ruler of any lande,

Or euer had manhood in feild to fight!

‘Soe bold men in battle as were they,

Forsooth had neither lo_rd_ nor swaine;

Ffarwell my vnckle, S_i_r Ed_ward_ Stanley!

For well I wott _tha_t thou art slaine.

‘Surelye whiles thy liffe wold last

Thou woldest neu_er_ shrinke beside the plaine;

Nor Iohn Stanley, _tha_t child soe younge;

Well I wott _tha_t thou art slaine.

‘Ffarwell Kighlye! coward was thou neu_er_;

Old S_i_r Henery, the good k_nigh_t,

I left the[e] ruler of Latham,

To be [my] deputye both day and night.

‘Ffarwell Townlye, _tha_t was soe true!

And _tha_t noble Ashton of Middelton!

And the sad Southwarke, _tha_t eu_er_ was sure!

For well I wott _tha_t thou art gone.

‘Farwell Ashton vnde[r] Line!

And manlye Mullenax! for thou art slaine;

For doubtlesse while yo_u_r liues wold last

You wold never shun beside the plaine.

‘Ffarwell Adderton w_i_th the leaden mall!

Well I know thow art deemed to dye;

I may take my leaue att you all;

The flower of manhoode is gone from mee.

‘Ffarwell S_i_r John Booth of Barton, k_nigh_t!

Well I know _tha_t thou art slaine;

While thy liffe wold last to fight,

Thou wold neu_er_ be-sids the plaine.

‘Ffarwell Butler, and S_i_r Bode!

Sure you haue beene eu_er_ to mee;

And soe I know _tha_t [still] you wold,

If _tha_t vnslaine you bee.

‘Ffarwell _Christ_opher Savage, the wighte!

Well I know _tha_t thou art slaine;

For whiles thy life wold last to fight,

Thou wold neuer besids the plaine.

‘Ffarwell Dutton, and S_i_r Dane!

You haue beene eu_er_ trew to mee;

Ffarwell the Baron of Kinderton!

Beside the feild thou wold not flee.

‘Ffarwell Ffitton of Gawsworth!

Either thou art taken or slaine;

Doubtelesse while thy life wold last,

Thou wold neuer beside the plaine.’

As they stood talkinge together there,

The duke and the erle trulye,

Came ffor to comfort him th[e] trew Talbott,

And the noble Erle of Shrewsburye.

‘Plucke vp thy hart, sonne Tho_mas_, and be merry,

And let noe tydings greeve thee!

Am not I godfather to our k_ing_?

My owne god-sonne forsooth is hee.’

He tooke the Duke of Buckingam by the arme,

And the Erle of Sh[r]ewsburye by the other:

‘To p_ar_t w_i_th you it is my harme;

Farwell, my father and my brother!

‘Farwell Lancaster, _tha_t litle towne!

Farwell now for euer and aye!

Many pore men may pray for my soule

When they lye weeping in the lane.

‘Ffarwell Latham, _tha_t bright bower!

Nine towers thou beares on hye,

And other nine thou beares on the outer walls;

W_i_thin thee may be lodged k_ing_s three.

‘Ffarwell Knowsley, _tha_t litle tower

Vnderneth the holtes soe hore!

Eu_er_ when I thinke on _tha_t bright bower,

Wite me not though my hart be sore.

‘Ffarwell Tocstaffe, _tha_t trustye _par_ke,

And the fayre riuer _tha_t runes there beside,

There I was wont to chase the hinde and hart!

Now therin will I neu_er_ abide.

‘Ffarwell bold Birkhead! there was I boorne,

Within the abbey and that monesterye;

The sweet covent for mee may mourne;

I gaue to you the tythe of Beeston, trulye.

‘Ffarwell Westchester for eu_er_more!

And the Watter Gate! it is my owne;

I gaue a mace _for_ the serieant to weare,

To waite on the maior, as it is knowne.

‘Will I neu_er_ come _tha_t citye w_i_thin;

But, sonne Edw_ard_, thou may clayme it of right:

Ffarwell Westhardin! I may thee [call] myn,

K_nigh_t and lord I was of great might.

‘Sweete sonne Edw_ard_, white bookes thou make,

And eu_er_ haue pittye on the pore cominaltye!

Ffarwell Hope and Hopedale!

Mould and Moulesdale, God be w_i_th thee!

I may take leaue with a sorry cheere,

For w_i_thin thee will I neuer bee.’

As they stoode talking together there,

The duke and the lords trulye,

Came Iamie Garsed, a yeman of the guard,

_Tha_t had beene brought vp w_i_th the Erle of Derbye;

Like the devill w_i_th his fellowes he had fared,

He s[t]icked two, and wounded three.

After, w_i_th his sword drawen in his hand,

He fled to the noble Earle of Derbye:

‘Stand vp, Iamye!’ the erle said,

‘These tydings nothing liketh mee.

‘I haue seene the day I cold haue saued thee,

Such thirty men if thou hads slaine,

And now if I shold speake for thee,

Sure thow weret to be slaine.

‘I will once desire my bretheren eche one

_Tha_t they will speake for thee.’

He prayd the Duke of Buckingam,

And alsoe the Erle of Shrewsburye,

Alsoe my lo_rd_ Fitzwater soe wise,

And the good Lo_rd_ Willowbye,

S_i_r Rice Ap Thomas, a k_nigh_t of price;

They all spoke for Long Iamye.

They had not stayd but a litle while there,

The duke and the erles in their talkinge,

But straight to the erle came a messenger,

_Tha_t came latelye from the k_ing_,

And bad _tha_t Long Iamie shold be sent;

There shold neither be grith nor grace,

But on a boughe he shold be hanged,

In middest the feild, before the erles face.

‘If _tha_t be soe,’ said the Erle of Derbye,

‘I trust our prince will better bee;

Such tydings maketh my hart full heavye

Afore his Grace when _tha_t wee bee.’

The Duke of Buckingam tooke Iamie by the one arme,

And the Erle of Shrewsburye by the other;

Afore them they put the K_ing_ of Man,

It was the Erle of Darbye and noe other.

The lo_rd_ Fitzwater followed fast,

And soe did the lo_rd_ Willowbyghe;

The comfortable Cobham mad great hast;

All went w_i_th the noble Erle of Derbye.

The hind Hassall hoved on fast,

W_i_th the lusty Lealand trulye;

Soe did S_i_r Alex_ander_ Osbaston,

Came in w_i_th the Erle of Derbye.

The royall Ratcliffe, _tha_t rude was neu_er_,

And the trustye Trafford, keene to trye,

And wight Warburton, out of Cheshire,

All came w_i_th the Erle of Darbye.

S_i_r Rice ap Thomas, a k_nigh_t of Wales,

Came w_i_th a feirce menye;

He bent his bowes on the bent to abyde,

And cleane vnsett the gallow-tree.

When they came afore our k_ing_,

Lowlye they kneeled vpon their knees;

The first word _tha_t our prince did myn,

‘Welcome, dukes and erles, to mee!

‘The most welcome hither of all

Is our owne traitor, Long Iamie:

Iamie, how durst thou be soe bold

As in our p_re_sence for to bee?

‘To slay thy bretheren w_i_thin their hold!

Thou was sworne to them, and they to thee.’

Then began Long Iamie to speake bold:

‘My leege, if it please yo_u_r Grace to pardon mee,

‘When I was to my supp_er_ sett,

They called me coward to my face,

And of their talking they wold not lett,

And thus w_i_th them I vpbrayded was.

‘The bade me flee from them apace

To _tha_t coward the Erle of Derbye!

When I was litle, and had small grace,

He was my helpe and succour trulye.

‘He tooke [me] from my father deere,

And keeped me w_i_thin his woone

Till I was able of my selfe

Both to shoote and picke the stone.

‘Then after, vnder Grenwich, vpon a day

A Scottish minstrell came to thee,

And brought a bow of yew to drawe,

And all the guard might not stirr _tha_t tree.

‘Then the bow was giuen to the Erle of Derbye,

And the erle deliuered it to mee;

Seven shoots before yo_u_r face I shott,

And att the eighth in sunder it did flee.

‘Then I bad the Scott bow downe his face,

And gather vp the bow, and bring it to his k_ing_;

Then it liked yo_u_r noble Grace

Into yo_u_r guard for me to bring.

‘Sithen I haue liued a merry liffe,

I thanke yo_u_r Grace and the Erle of Darbye;

But to haue the erle rebuked thus,

_Tha_t my bringer-vp forsooth was hee,

‘I had rather suffer death,’ he said,

‘Then be false to the erle _tha_t was true to me.’

‘Stand vp Iamie!’ said our k_ing_,

‘Haue heere my charter, I giue it thee.

‘Let me haue noe more fighting of thee

Whilest thou art w_i_thin Ffrance lande.’

‘Then one thing you must grant,’ said Iamie,

‘_Tha_t yo_u_r word theron may stand:

‘Whosoe rebuketh Lancashire or Chesshire

Shortlye shall be deemed to dye.’

Our k_ing_ comanded a cry i-wis

To be p_ro_claimed hastilye.

‘If the dukes and erles kneele on their knees,

Itt getteth on sturr the comonaltye;

If wee be vpbrayded thus,

Manye a man is like to dye.’

The k_ing_ said, He _tha_t rebuket Lancashire or Cheshire

Shall haue his iudgment on the next tree.

Then soe they were in rest

For the space of a night, as I weene,

And on the other day, w_i_thout leasinge,

There came a messenger from the q_ueene_.

And when he came before our k_ing_,

Lowlye he kneeled vpon his knee,

And said, Chr[i]st thee saue, our noble k_ing_,

And thy speed this day may bee!

Heere greeteth thee well thy loue and liking,

And our honorable q_ueene_ and ladye,

And biddeth you in Ffrance to be glad,

For slaine is yo_u_r brother-in-law K_ing_ Iamie,

And att louelye London he shalbe found,

My comlye prince, in the p_re_sence of thee.

Then bespake our comlye prince,

Saiinge, Who did fight and who did flee?

And who bare them best of the Mount of Fflodden?

And who is false, and who is true to mee?

‘Lancashire and Cheshire,’ said the messenger,

‘They haue done the deed w_i_th their hand;

Had not the Erle of Derbye beene to thee true,

In great aduenture had beene all England.’

Then bespake our prince on hye,

‘S_i_r Raphe Egertton, my marshall I make thee;

S_i_r Edward Stanley, thou shalt be a lo_rd_,

Lord Mounteagle thou shalt bee.

‘Yonge Iohn Stanley shalbe a k_nigh_t,

And he is well worthy for to bee.’

The Duke of Buckingham the tydings hard,

And shortlye ran to the Erle of Darbye:

‘Brother, plucke vp thy hart and be merrye,

And let noe tydings greeve thee!

Yesterday, thy men called cowerds were,

And this day they haue woone the victorye.’

The duke tooke the erle by the arme,

And thus they ledden to the prince [trulye].

Seven roods of ground the k_ing_ he came,

And sayd, ‘Welcome, K_ing_ of Man and Erle of Derbye!

The thing _tha_t I haue taken from thee,

I geeve it to thee againe whollye.

‘The manrydden of Lancashire and Cheshire both,

Att thy bidding euer to bee;

Ffor those men beene true, Thomas, indeed;

They beene trew both to thee and mee.’

‘Yett one thing greeveth me,’ said the erle,

‘And in my hart maketh me heavye,

This day to heare the wan the feild,

And yesterday cowards to bee.’

‘It was a wronge wryting,’ sayd our k_ing_,

‘_Tha_t came ffrom the Erle of Surrey;

But I shall him teach his prince to know,

If euer wee come in our countrye.’

‘I aske noe more,’ sayd the noble erle,

‘Ffor all _tha_t my men haue done trulye,

But _tha_t I may be iudge my selfe

Of _tha_t noble Erle of Surreye.’

‘Stand vp, Thomas!’ sayd our prince,

‘Lord Marshall I make thee,

And thou shalt be iudge thy selfe,

And as thou saiest, soe shall it bee.’

100

‘Then is his liffe saued,’ sayd the erle,

‘I thanke Iesu and yo_u_r Grace trulye;

If my vnckle slew his father deere,

He wold haue venged him on mee.’

101

‘Thou art verry patient,’ sayd our k_ing_;

‘The Holy Ghost remaines, I thinke, in thee;

On the south side of Turnay thou shalt stande,

W_i_th my godfather the Erle of Shrewsburye.’

102

And soe to _tha_t seege forth the went,

The noble Shrewsburye and the Erle of Derbye,

And the laid seege vnto the walls,

And wan the towne in dayes three.

103

Thus was Lancashire and Cheshire rebuked

Thorow the pollicye of the Erle of Surrey.

Now God, _tha_t was in Bethlem borne,

And for vs dyed vpon a tree,

Saue o_u_r noble prince _tha_t wereth the crowne,

And haue mercy on the Erles soule of Derbye!

· · · · ·

104

And then bespake o_u_r noble k_ing_,

These were the words said hee;

Sayes, Come, Alex_ander_ Ratcliffe, k_nigh_t,

Come hither now vnto mee,

Ffor them shalt goe on the south side of Tournay,

And w_i_th thee thou shalt haue thousands three.

105

Then forth is gone Alex_ander_ Ratcliffe, k_nigh_t;

W_i_th him he leads men thousand three;

But or ere three dayes were come to an end,

The Ffrenchmen away did flee.

106

Then K_ing_ Henery planted three hundred Englishmen

_Tha_t in the citye shold abyde and bee:

Alex_ander_ Rat_cliffe_, he wold haue mad him gou_er_no_u_r there,

But he forsooke it certainelye,

And made great intreatye to our k_ing_

_Tha_t he might come into England in his compa[n]ye.

· · · · ·

A text made from #b# and #c# is printed by Weber, Flodden Field, p. 366,