He that's condemn'd to th' oare hath first his face,
Eyebrowes, and head close shaven (for more disgrace
Cannot betide a Christian). Then, being stript
To th' girdle (as when roagues are to be whipt),
Chain'd are they to the seates where they sit rowing,
Five in a row together; a Turke going

On a large plancke between them, and though their eyes

Are ready to start out with pulling, he cryes

'Worke, worke, you Christian curres,' and though none needs One blow for loytering, yet his bare back bleeds,

And riseth up in bunches, which the Turke

With a bulls-pizzle gives him, crying still, Worke,

Worke, dog,' whilest some so faint, at th' oare th[e]y dye,
Being cast (like dogs) over-boord presently.
Their slavery done at Sea, then are they laid
In dungeons, worse than jayles, poorely arraid,
Fed with course horse-bread, water for their drinke,
And such sometimes puddles cannot worser stinke.
Then if upon a Turkish roague they frowne,
Or give him a crosse word, held are they downe
Oth' ground upon their backs, whilst on the rim
Of their bare bellies they are forc'd from him
To beare four hundred blowes: their soles oth' feet
And shinnes like payment now and then doe meet.
Why are the Turkes thus cruell, but to draw
Christians from Christ to their Mahumetan law?
You, who at home in golden pleasures dance,
Wasting both noones and nights in dalliance,

O when these groanes of Christians pierce [y]our eares
To free them, give your charity, and your teares,
Whilst you that are our Christian Princes stil'd
(All jarres amongst your selves being reconcil'd)
Into the field with one knit army come,
To kill this lyon that thus teares Christendome.

D

THE HONOUR OF BRISTOL.

Showing how the Angel Gabriel of Bristol fought with three (Spanish) Ships, who boarded us many times, whereon we cleared our decks, and killed five hundred of their men, and wounded many more, and made them flye into Cales, where we lost but three men; to the honour of the Angel Gabriel of Bristol.

To the Tune of Our Noble King in his Progress.

Attend you and give ear awhile, and you shall understand
Of a battel fought upon the seas, by a ship of brave command;
The fight it was so famous, that all men's heart doth fill,
And makes them cry, 'To sea, with the Angel Gabriel!'

The lusty ship of Bristol sail'd out adventurously,
Against the foes of England, their strength with them to try;
Well victual'd, rig'd, and man'd, and good provision still :
Which makes men cry, 'To sea, with the Angel Gabriel!'

The captain, famous Netheway, so was he call'd by name;
The master's name John Mines, a man of noted fame;
The gunner Thomas Watson, a man of perfect skill:
With other valiant hearts, in the Angel Gabriel.

They waving up and down the seas, upon the ocean main:

'It is not long ago,' quoth they, 'since England fought with Spain !

Would we with them might meet, our minds for to fulfill;
We would play a noble bout with our Angel Gabriel.

They had no sooner spoken, but straight appear'd in sight
Three lusty Spanish vessels, of warlike force and might;
With bloody resolution they sought our men to spill,
And vow'd to make a prize of our Angel Gabriel.

Then first came up their admiral, themselves for to advance ;
In her she bore full forty-eight piece of ordinance;
The next that then came near us was their vice-admiral,
Which shot most furiously at our Angel Gabriel.

Our gallant ship had in her full forty fighting men:
With twenty pieces of ordnance we play'd about them then ;
And with powder, shot, and bullets we did imploy them still,
And thus began the fight with our Angel Gabriel.

Our captain to our master said, 'Take courage, master bold;'
The master to the seamen said, 'Stand fast, my hearts of gold;'
The gunner unto all the rest, 'Brave hearts, be valiant still;
Let us fight in the defence of our Angel Gabriel!'

Then we gave them a broadside, which shot their mast asunder, And tore the bowsprit of their ship, which made the Spaniards wonder;

And caused them for to cry, with voices loud and shrill,

'Help! help! or else we sink, by the Angel Gabriel

Yet desperately they boarded us, for all our valiant shot;
Three score of their best fighting-men upon our decks were got,
And then at their entrance full thirty we did kill,
And thus we clear'd the decks of the Angel Gabriel.

With that their three ships boarded us again with might and main,
But still our noble Englishmen cry'd out, ‘A fig for Spain !'
Though seven times they boarded us, at last we shew'd our skill,
And made them feel the force of our Angel Gabriel.

Seven hours this fight continued, and many brave men lay dead,
With purple gore and Spanish blood the sea was coloured red;
Five hundred of their men we there outright did kill;
And many more were maim'd by the Angel Gabriel.

They seeing of these bloody spoils, the rest made haste away.
For why? they saw it was no boot any longer for to stay;
Then they fled into Cales, and there they must lye still,
For they never more will dare to meet our Angel Gabriel.

We had within our English ship but onely three men slain ;
And five men hurt, the which, I hope, will soon be well again;
At Bristol we were landed, and let us praise God still,
That thus hath blest our men and our Angel Gabriel.

Now let me not forget to speak of the gift given by the owner
Of the Angel Gabriel, that many years has known her;
Two hundred pounds in coyn and plate he gave with free good will
Unto them that bravely fought in the Angel Gabriel.

[Probably by LAWRENCE PRICE.]

NEPTUNE TO ENGLAND.

Of thee, great State, the god of waves
In equall wrongs assistance craves,

Defend thyselfe and mee:

For if ore seas there be no sway,
My godhead cleane is tane away,

The scepter pluckt from thee.

Such as ore seas all sovereigntie oppose,

Though seeming friends, to both are truly foes.

If little Venice brings alone

Such waves to her subjection,

Ás in the Gulfe doe stirre,

What then should great Britannia please,

But rule as ladie ore all seas,

And thou as queen of her?

For sea-dominion may as well be gain'd
By new acquests, as by descent maintain'd.

Goe on, great state, and make it knowne,
Thou never wilt forsake thine owne,

Nor from thy purpose start :

But that thou wilt thy power dilate,

Since narrow seas are found too straight

For thy capacious heart.

So shall thy rule, and mine, have large extent :
Yet not so large, as just and permanent.

ON HIS MAJESTIES FLEET.

Cease now the talke of wonders, nothing rare
Of floateing ilandes, castles in the aire,
Of wooden walls, graves walkeing, flieing steedes,
Or Trojan horse. The present truth exceeds
Those ancient fables; floating iles great store,
Sent from the British Ile, now guard her shore,
And castles strong without foundation stande
More safe on waters pavement then on lande.

Now wooden walles defend our walles of rocke;
These walles are cittyes too; tooke from the block
Arise those christned frames, which are the health
And moddle of a vaster Commonwealth;
Beyond the Kentish stratagem now ghosts
Of trees not greene doe walk about our coasts,
Which humane art hath made move quick, by death
Inur'd to motion, taught to feed on breath.
Now winged steeds with bridles plac'd behinde,
Leaving no print, accompany the winde,

Their bowells greate with sonns of Mars doth groane
To be delivered into action.

Ride on, Arts liveing creatures, flie and swell
Your wings like angry swans, while wee that dwell
On shore, with prayer and fame [?] encrease the gale
Which Heaven shall breath into each pregnant saile.
Powre out the language of a chastning Jove
That speakes in thunder here, like him above.
Cannot your Lion roare and act her king?
Is shee with all her Whelpes not swift to bringe
Her pray into her den? Is not your Rose
Worth lilies three, or any flower that growes?
Your Honour (which is admirall) maintaine;
She leades you forth, come home to her againe.
For sea and fish, if tempests rise, bee free [?].
Give them to what they love, that troublers bee [?].