"But at last there came commandment For to set all ladies free, With their jewels still adorned, None to do them injury." But freedom was no boon to her. "Gallant Captain, take some pity On a woman in distress; Leave me not within this city For to die in heaviness." In vain he urges that he is the enemy of her country. "Blessed be the time and season That you came on Spanish ground; If you may our foes be termed, Gentle foes we have you found." He suggests that she would have no difficulty in getting a Spanish husband, but she replies that Spaniards are "fraught with jealousy." "Still to serve thee day and night My mind is prest; The wife of every Englishman Is counted blest." He objects that it is not the custom of English soldiers to be attended by women. "I will quickly change myself, If it be so, And like a page will follow thee Where e'er thou go." But still he makes excuse: "I have neither gold nor silver To maintain thee in this case, And to travel is great charges, As you know, in every place." She puts her fortune at his disposal, but he has hit upon a new deterrent: "On the seas are many dangers, Many storms do there arise, Which will be to ladies dreadful And force tears from watry eyes." She implies that she would gladly die, even of seasickness, for his sake, and at that the truth breaks forth: "Courteous lady, leave this folly; Here comes all that breeds this strife:-- I in England have already A sweet woman to my wife. "I will not falsify my vow For gold nor gain, Nor yet for all the fairest dames That live in Spain." Her reply, with its high Spanish breeding, puts his blunt English manners to shame: "Oh how happy is that woman That enjoys so true a friend. Many happy days God lend her! Of my suit I'll make an end. * * * * * "Commend me to that gallant lady; Bear to her this chain of gold; With these bracelets for a token; Grieving that I was so bold. * * * * * "I will spend my days in prayer, Love and all her laws defy; In a nunnery I will shroud me, Far from any company. "But e'er my prayer have an end, Be sure of this,-- To pray for thee and for thy Love I will not miss. * * * * * "Joy and true prosperity Remain with thee!" "The like fall unto thy share, Most fair lady!" This ballad, which Shakespeare might have bought for a penny "at the Looking-glass on London bridge" and sung to the tune of "Flying Fame," is still a favourite throughout Cheshire.