‘Simon, Simon,’ said the good wife, ‘I wish thou maist well brook[1018] thy name’; The outlaw was ware of her courtesie, And rejoyc’d he had got such a dame. IX ‘Simon, wilt thou be my man? And good round wages I’le give thee; I have as good a ship of mine owne As any sayle upon the sea. X ‘Anchors and planks thou shalt want none, Masts and ropes that are so long’-- ‘And if that you thus furnish me,’ Said Simon, ‘nothing shall goe wrong.’ XI They pluckt up anchor, and away did sayle, More of a day then two or three; When others cast in their baited hooks, The bare lines into the sea cast he. XII ‘It will be long,’ said the master then, ‘Ere this great lubber do thrive on the sea; I’le assure you he shall have no part of our fish, For in truth he is of no part worthỳ.’ XIII ‘O woe is me,’ said Simon then, ‘This day that ever I came here! I wish I were in Plomton Parke, In chasing of the fallow deere. XIV ‘For every clowne laughs me to scorne, And they by me set nought at all; If I had them in Plomton Park, I would set as little by them all.’ XV They pluckt up anchor, and away did sayle, More of a day then two or three; But Simon spied a ship of warre, That sayld towards them most valourouslie. XVI ‘O woe is me,’ said the master then, ‘This day that ever I was borne! For all our fish we have got to-day Is every bit lost and forlorne[1019]. XVII ‘For your French robbers on the sea, They will not spare of us one man, But carry us to the coast of France, And ligge us in the prison strong.’ XVIII But Simon said, ‘Doe not feare them, Neither, master, take you no care; Give me my bent bow in my hand, And never a Frenchman will I spare.’-- XIX ‘Hold thy peace, thou long lubber, For thou art nought but braggs and boast; If I should cast thee over-board, There were nothing but a lubber lost.’ XX Simon grew angry at these words, And so angry then was he That he tooke his bent bow in his hand, And to the ship-hatch goeth he. XXI ‘Master, tye me to the mast,’ saith he, ‘That at my mark I may stand fair, And give me my bended bow in my hand, And never a Frenchman will I spare.’ XXII He drew his arrow to the very head, And drew it with all might and maine, And straightway, in the twinkling of an eye, To the Frenchman’s heart the arrow did gain. XXIII The Frenchman fell downe on the ship-hatch, And under the hatches down below; Another Frenchman that him espy’d The dead corps into the sea doth throw. XXIV