O ye are welcome, rich merchants; Good sailors, welcome unto me. They swore by the rood, they were sailors good, But rich merchants they could not be: To France nor Flanders dare we pass, Nor Bordeaux voyage dare we fare;[113] And all for a rover that lies on the seas, Who robs us of our merchant ware. King Henry frowned, and turned him round, And swore by the Lord, that was mickle of might, I thought he had not been in the world, Durst have wrought England such unright. The merchants sighed, and said, alas! And thus they did their answer frame, He is a proud Scot, that robs on the seas, And Sir Andrew Barton is his name. The king looked over his left shoulder, And an angry look then looked he: Have I never a lord in all my realm, Will fetch yon traitor unto me? Yea, that dare I, lord Howard says; Yea, that dare I with heart and hand; If it please your grace to give me leave, Myself will be the only man. Thou art but young, the king replied; Yon Scot hath numbered many a year. Trust me, my liege, I'll make him quail, Or before my prince I will never appear. Then bowmen and gunners thou shalt have, And choose them over my realm so free; Besides good mariners, and ship-boys, To guide the great ship on the sea. The first man that lord Howard chose Was the ablest gunner in all the realm, Though he was threescore years and ten; Good Peter Simon was his name. Peter, says he, I must to the sea, To bring home a traitor live or dead; Before all others I have chosen thee, Of a hundred gunners to be the head. If you, my lord, have chosen me Of a hundred gunners to be the head, Then hang me up on your main-mast tree, If I miss my mark one shilling bread.[114] My lord then chose a bowman rare, Whose active hands had gained fame; In Yorkshire was this gentleman born, And William Horseley was his name. Horseley, said he, I must with speed Go seek a traitor on the sea, And now of a hundred bowmen brave To be the head I have chosen thee. If you, quoth he, have chosen me Of a hundred bowmen to be the head, On your main-mast I'll hanged be, If I miss, twelvescore,[115] one penny bread. With pikes and guns, and bowmen bold, This noble Howard is gone to the sea; With a valiant heart and a pleasant cheer, Out at Thames mouth sailed he. And days he scant had sailed three Upon the voyage he took in hand, But there he met with a noble ship, And stoutly made it stay and stand.