Men of his own country He still abuseth vilely; Some back to back are cast into the waves; Some are hewn in pieces small, Some are shot against a wall; A slender number of their lives he saves. Of truth it is reported That he is strongly guarded By Turks that are not of a good belief; Wit and reasons tell them He trusteth not his country-men, He shews the right condition of a thief. At Tunis in Barbary Now he buildeth stately A gallant palace and a royal place, Decked with delights most trim, Fitter for a prince than him, The which at last will prove to his disgrace. To make the world to wonder, This captain is commander Of four-and-twenty ships of sayl, To bring in treasure from the sea Into the markets every day: The which the Turks do buy up without fail. His name and state so mounteth, These countrey-men accounteth Him equal to the nobles of that land; But these his honours we shall find Shortly blown up with the wind, Or prove like letters written in the sand. _THE SONG OF DANSEKAR THE DUTCHMAN._ (_Second Part of the Sea-man’s Song of Ward and Dansekar._) Sing we sea-men, now and than, Of Dansekar the Dutchman, Whose gallant mind hath won him great renown; To live on land he counts it base, But seeks to purchase greater grace By roving on the ocean up and down. His heart is so aspiring, That now his chief desiring Is for to win himself a worthy name; The land hath far too little ground, The sea is of a larger bound, And of a greater dignity and fame. Now many a worthy gallant, Of courage now most valiant, With him hath put their fortunes to the sea; All the world about have heard Of Dansekar and Captain Ward, And of their proud adventures every day. There is not any kingdom, In Turkey or in Christendom, But by these pyrates have received loss; Merchant-men of every land Do daily in great danger stand, And fear do much the ocean main to cross. They make children fatherless, Woful widows in distresse; In shedding blood they [take] too much delight; Fathers they bereave of sons, Regarding neither cries nor moans, So much they joy to see a bloody fight. They count it gallant bearing To hear the cannons roaring, And musket shot to rattle in the sky; Their glories would be at the highest To fight against the foes of Christ, And such as do our Christian faith deny. But their cursed villanies, And their bloody pyracies, Are chiefly bent against our Christian friends; Some Christians so delight in evils That they become the sons of divels, And for the same have many shameful ends.