The grapling-hooks were brought at length, the browne bill and the sword-a; John Dory at length, for all his strength, was clapt fast under board-a. _THE MARINER’S SONG._ From the ‘Comedy of Common Conditions,’ about 1570. _Lustely, lustely, lustely let us saile forthe; The winde trim doth serve us, it blows from the north._ All thinges we have ready and nothing we want To furnish our ship that rideth hereby; Victuals and weapons thei be nothing skant, Like worthie mariners ourselves we will trie. _Lustely, lustely, &c._ Her flagges be new trimmed, set flanting alofte, Our ship for swift swimmyng, oh! she doth excel; We fear no enemies, we have escaped them ofte; Of all ships that swimmeth she beareth the bell. _Lustely, lustely, &c._ And here is a maister excelleth in skill, And our maister’s mate he is not to seeke; And here is a boteswaine will do his good will, And here is a ship, boy, we never had leak. _Lustely, lustely, &c._ If fortune then faile not, and our next voiage prove, We will return merely, and make good cheare, And holde all together as friends link’d in love; The cannes shall be filled with wine, ale, and beer. _Lustely, lustely, &c._ _A JOYFUL NEW BALLAD, DECLARING THE HAPPIE OBTAINING OF THE GREAT GALLEAZZO_, Wherein Don Pietro de Valdez was the chiefe, through the mightie power and providence of God, being a special token of his gracious and fatherly goodness towards us, to the great encouragement of all those that willingly fight in the defence of his gospel, and our good Queene of England. To the Tune of, _Mounseurs Almaigne_ O noble England, fall doune upon thy knee, And praise thy God with thankfull hart, which still maintaineth thee. The forraine forces, that seekes thy utter spoile: Shall then through his especiall grace be brought to shamefull foile. With mightie power they come unto our coast: To over runne our countrie quite, they make their brags and boast. In strength of men they set their onely stay, But we upon the Lord our God will put our trust alway. Great is their number of ships upon the sea; And their provision wonderful, but, Lord, thou art our stay. Their armed souldiers are many by account, Their aiders eke in this attempt doe sundry waies surmount. The Pope of Rome, with many blessed graines, To sanctify their bad pretense, bestowed both cost and paines. But little land, be not dismaide at all; The Lord no doubt is on our side, which soone will worke their fall.