I cast to speake of Ireland but a litle: Commodities of it I will entitle, Hides, and fish, Salmon, Hake, Herringe, Irish wooll, and linen cloth, faldinge, And marterns goode ben her marchandie, Hertes Hides, and other of Venerie.[8] Skinnes of Otter, Squirell and Irish hare, Of sheepe, lambe, and Fox, is her chaffare, Felles of Kiddes, and Conies great plentie. So that if Ireland helpe vs to keepe the sea, Because the King cleped is Rex Angliæ, And is Dominus also Hyberniæ, Old possessed by Progenitours: The Irish men haue cause like to ours Our land and hers together to defend, That no enemie should hurt ne offend, Ireland ne vs: but as one commontie Should helpe well to keepe about the sea: For they haue hauens great, and goodly bayes, Sure, wyde and deepe, of good assayes, At Waterford, and costes many one. And as men sayne in England be there none Better hauens, ships in to ride, No more sure for enemies to abide, Why speake I thus so much of Ireland? For all so much as I can vnderstand, It is fertile for things that there doe growe And multiplien, loke who lust to knowe, So large, so good, and so commodious, That to declare is strange and maruailous. [Footnote 8: Hunting.] [Sidenote: Mynes of siluer and gold in Ireland.] For of siluer and golde there is the oore, Among the wilde Irish though they be poore. For they are rude can thereon no skill: So that if we had their peace and good will To myne and fine, and metal for to pure, In wilde Irish might we finde the cure, As in London saith a Iuellere, Which brought from thence golde oore to vs here, Whereof was fyned mettal good and clene, As they touch, no better could be seene. Nowe here beware and heartily take intent, As yee will answere at last iudgement, That for slought and for racheshede Yee remember with all your might to hede To keepe Ireland that it be not lost. For it is a boterasse and a post, Vnder England, and Wales another: God forbid, but ech were others brother, Of one ligeance due vnto the king. But I haue pittie in good faith of this thing That I shall say with auisement: I am aferde that Ireland will be shent: It must awey, it wol bee lost from vs, But if thou helpe, thou Iesu gracious, And giue vs grace al slought to leue beside. For much thing in my herte is hide, Which in another treatise I caste to write Made al onely for that soile and site, Of fertile Ireland, wich might not be forborne, But if England were nigh as goode as gone. God forbid that a wild Irish wirlinge Should be chosen for to bee their kinge, After her conqueste for our last puissance, And hinder vs by other lands alliance. Wise men seyn, wich felin not, ne douten, That wild Irish so much of ground haue gotten