Gernutus now waxt franticke mad,
And wotes not what to say;
Quoth he at last, "Ten thousand crownes
I will that he shall pay ;

"And so I graunt to set him free."
The judge doth answere make;
"You shall not have a penny given;
Your forfeyture now take."

At the last he doth demaund

But for to have his owne ;

"No," quoth the judge, "doe as you list, Thy judgement shall be showne.

"Either take your pound of flesh," quoth he,

"Or cancell me your bond :"

"O cruell judge," then quoth the Jew,

"That doth against me stand!"

And so with griping grieved mind
He biddeth them fare-well:

Then all the people prays'd the Lord,

That ever this heard tell.

Good people, that doe heare this song,
For trueth I dare well say,
That many a wretch as ill as hee
Doth live now at this day;

That seeketh nothing but the spoyle

Of many a wealthy man, And for to trap the innocent Deviseth what they can.

From whome the Lord deliver me,

And every Christian too,

And send to them like sentence eke

That meaneth so to do.

KING HENRIE THE FIFTH'S CONQUEST.

"From the singing of the late Francis King, of Skipton in Craven, an eccentric character, who was well known in the western dales of Yorkshire as 'The Skipton Minstrel.””—ANCIENT POEMS, &c.

S our king lay musing on his bed,

He bethought himself upon a time
Of a tribute that was due from France,
Had not been paid for so long a time.
Down, a-down, a-down, a-down,
Down, a-down, a-down.

He called on his trusty page,

His trusty page then called he,
"O you must go to the king of France,
O you must go right speedilie.

"And tell him of my tribute due,

Ten ton of gold that's due to me,
That he must send me my tribute home,
Or in French land he soon will me see."

O then away went the trusty page,

Away, away, and away went he,
Until he came to the king of France;
Lo! he fell down on his bended knee.

"My master greets you, worthy Sire;

Ten ton of gold there is due, says he;
You must send him his tribute home,

Or in French land you will soon him see."

"Your master's young, and of tender years,
Not fit to come into my degree;

But I will send him three tennis balls,

That with them learn to play may he."

P

O then away came the trusty page,

Away, and away, and away came he, Until he came to our gracious king;

Lo! he fell down on his bended knee.

"What news, what news, my trusty page,

What news, what news, hast thou brought to me?" "I've brought such news from the king of France, That you and he will ne'er agree.

"He says you're young, and of tender years,
Not fit to come into his degree;

But he will send you three tennis balls,
That with them you may learn to play."

O then bespoke our noble king,

A solemn vow then vowèd he; "I'll promise him such tennis balls, As in French lands he ne'er did see.

"Go, call up Cheshire and Lancashire, And Derby hills, that are so free; Not a married man, nor a widow's son,

For the widow's cry shall not go with me."

They called up Cheshire and Lancashire,
And Derby lads that were so free;
Not a married man, nor a widow's son,
Yet they were a jovial bold companie.

O then he sailed to fair French land,
With drums and trumpets so merrilie;
O then bespoke the king of France,

"Yonder comes proud king Henrie."

The first fire that the Frenchmen gave,
They killed our Englishmen so free,

We killed ten thousand of the French,

And the rest of them they were forced to flee.

And then we marched to Paris gates,

With drums and trumpets so merrilie ; O then bespoke the king of France,

"Lord have mercy on my poor men and me!

"Go! tell him I'll send home his tribute due,
Ten ton of gold that is due from me;
And the fairest flower that is in our French land
To the Rose of England it shall go free."

SIR ANDREW BARTON.

The council-board of England, [A.D. 1511] at which the Earl of Surrey held the chief place, was daily pestered with complaints from the sailors and merchants, that a Scotch seaman, called Sir Andrew Barton, under pretence of searching for Portuguese goods, interrupted the English navigation. Henry the Eighth's situation at that time rendered him backward from breaking with Scotland, so that their complaints were but coldly received. The Earl of Surrey, however, could not smother his indignation, but gallantly declared at the council-board, that while he had an estate that could furnish out a ship, or a son that was capable of commanding one, the narrow seas should not be infested.

"Sir Andrew Barton, who commanded the two Scotch ships, had the reputation of being one of the ablest sea officers of his time. By his depredations, he had amassed great wealth, and his ships were very richly laden. Henry, notwithstanding his situation, could not refuse the generous offer made by the Earl of Surrey. Two ships were immediately fitted out and put to sea with letters of marque, under his two sons, Sir Thomas and Sir Edward Howard. After encountering a great deal of foul weather, Sir Thomas came up with the Lion, which was commanded by Sir Andrew Barton in person; and Sir Edward came up with the Union, Barton's other ship, the Bark of Scotland. The engagement which ensued was extremely obstinate on both sides; but at last the fortune of the Howards prevailed. Sir Andrew was killed, fighting bravely, and encouraging his men with his whistle, to hold out to the last; and the two Scotch ships, with their crews, were carried into the River Thames, Aug. 2, 1511.”—GUThrie's Peerage, quoted by PERCY.

W

THE FIRST PART.

HEN Flora with her fragrant flowers
Bedeckt the earth so trim and gaye,
And Neptune with his daintye showers
Came to present the monthe of Maye,
King Henrye rode to take the ayre,
Over the river of Thames past hee;
When eighty merchants of London came,
And downe they knelt upon their knee.