Chapter I: THAT CUPID callèd am, (2)

Then I espied some light at a great window in a garret or loft over me. Wherefore I tied a crooked knife to the cane, and thrust up a long towel: and with the knife at the end of the cane, I drew the towel about a bar of the window, and drew it to me: and with that towel I did climb up into the window. But then I could not get forth between the bars, wherefore I digged forth one of the bars; and tied my towels and napkins together end to end, and fastened one end to a bar of the window: and then did slide down by them till I came within three or four fathoms [_18 or 24 feet_] of the ground: when the towels brake in sunder, and I fell down into a well which was direct[ly] under me, where I was almost drowned. Yet it pleased GOD to deliver me.

And being then in the city, without the Castle walls; I, knowing no other way to get out, went again to the town ditch: where I got through the Water Gate with less peril than before, by reason there was less water than [there] was the other time.

* * * * *

Then went I, with all speed into the woods; lying all days in [the] woods as close as I could, and travelled by nights through woods and mountains.

And upon the third night [_i.e. after his escape, say the night of the 23rd May 1588_], about midnight, I happened into an olive garden, not above half a bow shot from the sea-side; in which garden I found a little skiff or boat lying under a pomgranate tree: and there lay in the boat a hatchet. All which served happily for my delivery.

Now I, being unable to carry the boat to the water-side, did cut small truncheons of wood; and upon them did slide it down to the water-side. Then I cut an arm [_a_ _branch_] of an olive tree, to make my boat a mast; and, having no other shift, made a sail-cloth with my breeches and a piece of [a] mantle which I had about me. And for [_because_] my oars were very mean, yet durst I stay to look for no better, but presently set sail; and, yielding myself to the good pleasure of Almighty GOD, betook myself to the sea: willing rather to abide what the Lord would lay on me, than to die among these most cruel tyrants.

And by the providence of GOD, upon the second day [? _25th May 1588_], in the forenoon, I descried the Coast of Barbary: for the wind stood north-east [_or rather_ north-west], which served me most happily.

Understand that this cut is, from shore to shore [_that is, from some point in Majorca to the east side of the Bay of Bougiah_] 150 [_or rather_ 70] leagues, which is 450 [_or, at most, say_ 210] English miles; and at that time [there was] a very rough sea; insomuch if it had not been by the great and wonderful power of GOD, my vessel and I had both been overwhelmed.

* * * * *

But I fell in with the country of Cabyles [_i.e._, _the Little Kabylia, in the present Province of Constantine_], commonly called the King of Cookooe's land, near a town called Gigeley [_the present Djidjelli_]: where I went on shore, leaving my boat to swim which way the wind and weather would conduct it; thinking it had done me sufficient service.

But see now, when I had escaped through the surges of the sea from the cruelty of the Spaniard, I was no sooner landed and entered the mountains but I was espied by the Moors which inhabit the country; who pursued very earnestly to take me; supposing me to be come from the Christian shore to rob in their coast.

For, many times, the Spaniards will pass over in some small vessel, and go on shore; and if they can catch any men of the country, they will carry them away to make galley slaves: wherefore the Moors are very diligent to pursue them at their landing; and if it chance they take any Christian, they use him in like sort.

Wherefore I, being very unwilling to fall into their hands, was constrained to go into a river, which ran between two mountains; and there to stand in water up to the chin, where the bushes and trees did grow most thick over me: where I stood certain hours, until they had left searching for me.

* * * * *

Now when I perceived they were departed, I went out of the water, being very feeble; for I ate nothing all that time but the bark of the trees, which I cut with my hatchet. I went forth as secretly as I could, minding to pass to Argire [_Algiers_].

I had not gone above three miles, when I espied a Moor, a very well favoured old man, who was weeding a field of wheat.

I spake to him in the tongue of Franke [_The_ Lingua Franca _of the Mediterranean shore_], and called him to me. I, having my hatchet in my hand, cast it from me.

He came unto me; and, taking me by the hand, demanded very gently, What I would have?

I, perceiving that he did, even at the first sight, pity my poor and miserable estate, told him all things that had happened unto me: how I was an Englishman; how I had been captive in Argire; how I chanced to come to Genoa; their sending me to Majorca; and all the torment which I had suffered there; and finally my escape from thence, with all the rest that followed.

[Sidenote: The charitable mind of a simple old man.]

This good aged father, when he had heard of my lamentable discourse, shewing himself rather a Christian than a man brought up among the Turkish Mahometists, greatly pitied my misery; and forthwith led me home to his house, and caused such victuals as the country yieldeth to be set before me, which was dried wheat and honey: and baked a cake upon the fire hearth, and fried it with butter; which I thought very good meat, for I had not been at the like banquet in six years before [1582-1588]; the good father shewing me what comfort he could.

[Sidenote: The old man still pitied him and did what lay in him to deliver him.]

There I remained four and twenty hours. In the meantime the Moors which dwelt in the villages by, understanding of my being there, came; and, calling me forth, inquired of me, What I was? From whence I came? and Whither I would?: and, with great vehemency, charged their weapons against my breast; insomuch that I thought they would verily have slain me. But mine host, that good old man, came forth and answered for me; and so dissuaded them from doing me any harm: and took me back again into his house.

This being past, I requested him to help me to a guide to conduct me to Argire: and he presently provided two, whereof the one was his son; to whom I promised to give four crowns for their pains.

* * * * *

So taking my leave of my good host, we took our way towards Argire.

When we had not passed above 24 miles on the way, we chanced to meet a Gentleman of that country who was, as it were, Purveyor to the King; and went about the country to take up corn and grain for the King's provision. He, meeting us upon the way, asked Whither we were travelling?

My guides answered, That we were going to Argire.

He asked, What had we to do there?

They said to deliver me there.

Then he demanded, What I was?

They told him, I was an Englishman that came from the Christian shore, and was bound towards Argire.

Then did this Gentleman take me from them, sending them back from whence they came; but compelled me to go with him to village by, and very earnestly persuaded me to turn Moor: promising, if I would, he would be a mean[s] to prefer me greatly; which I still denied.

Then, upon the next day, he carried me further, to a town called Tamgote [? _Tamgout_], and delivered me to a Nobleman of great authority with the King: which was Lieutenant-General for the wars. For this King of Cookooe holdeth continual war with the King of Argire; although they be both subject to the Great Turk.

I was no sooner brought before this Nobleman, but he demanded, Whether I would turn Moor?

I answered, That I would not.

Wherefore immediately he commanded a pair of shackles to be put on my heels; and a clasp of iron about my neck, with a chain thereat.

Then was I set on a mule, and conveyed to Cookooe, [_also spelt, in maps later than this narrative_, Couco _or_ Cocou. _It was not far from the left bank of the river Sahel, that falls into the Bay of Bougiah,? the present_ Akbou], where the King lay.

* * * * *

When I was come thither, I was presently brought before the King: who inquired, What I was? and, From whence I came? and What my pretence was?

I answered, That I was an Englishman; and that I came from the Christian shore, intending to pass to Argire.

Then he asked me, What I could do?

I told him I could do nothing.

Then he demanded, Whether I were a Gunner?

[Sidenote: Gunners are in great estimation with them.]

I said, "No."

Then he persuaded me very instantly to yield to their religion, offering to prefer me.

Wherefore I desired him to give me liberty to depart: "for my desire is to be in England, with my wife and children."

"Yea," said he, "but how wilt thou come there?"

For they minded to keep me still: and evermore the King assayed to seduce me with promises of great preferment, saying, If I would serve him and turn Moor: I should want nothing.

But on the contrary, I besought him to give me liberty to go to Argire; where I was in hope to be delivered, and sent home to mine own country.

Now he, seeing he could win me by no gentle means, commanded me to prison; saying, That he would either make me yield and turn Moor: or else I should die in captivity.

In this while that I remained in prison; divers of the King's House came to me, persuading me to yield to the King's demand: alleging how hardly the King might use me, being now in his power, unable to escape; and again how bountifully the King would deal with me, if I would submit myself.

* * * * *

Within a little time after, it happened there was great preparation to receive the King of Abbesse [? _the present tribe of the Beni-Abbas, or Beni-Abbès_], whose country adjoineth to the King of Cookooe's land: and [they] are in league together, and join their armies in one against the King of Argire.

[Sidenote: These men are nothing expert in Artillery.]

Now, at his coming, I was fetched forth of prison, and commanded to charge certain pieces of ordinance, which were three Sacres and two Minions of Brass [_See Vol. IV., pp. 250-251_]; which I refused not to do, trusting thereby to get some liberty. Wherefore, at the coming of the King of Abbesse into the town, I discharged the ordnance as liked them very well: for they are not very expert in that exercise. For which I had some more liberty than before.

This King of Abbesse tarrying some certain time there, in consulting with the King of Cookooe for matters touching the Wars with Argire; and understanding of me, sent for me, being very desirous to talk with me: where, after certain questions he desired of the other King, that he might buy me; which he would not grant.

[Sidenote: Very many offers of preferment to draw me from the Word of GOD.]

Then the King of the Cabyles [_Kabyles_] or Cookooe persuaded me very seriously to serve him wil[ling]ly, and to turn Moor: and offered to give me 700 Doubles [? _the Double Pistoles, or Doubloons_] by the year, which amounteth to the sum of £50 [_= £200 now_] of English money; and moreover to give me by the day, 30 Aspers, which are worth twelve pence English, to find me meat; and likewise to give me a house, and land sufficient to sow a hundred bushels of grain yearly, and two Plow of oxen furnished, to till the same; also to furnish me with horse, musket, sword, and other necessaries, such as they of that country use. And lastly he offered to give me a wife, which they esteemed the greatest matter; for all buy their wives at a great price. Yea, if there were any in his Court could content me, I should make my choice: but if there were not; he would provide one to my contentment, whatsoever it should cost him.

But when he perceived all he said was in vain, he sent the Queen and her gentlewomen to talk with me. When she came, she very courteously entreated me to turn and serve the King, and to consider well what a large offer the king had made; saying, That I was much unlike to come to any like preferment in my country. And many times she would shew me her gentlewomen, and ask me, If none of them could please me?

But I told her, I had a wife in mine own country, to whom I had vowed my faith before GOD and the World: "which vow," I said, "I would never break while we both lived."

Then she said, She could but marvel what she should be whom I esteemed so much as to refuse such offers of preferment, for her sake; being now where I must remain in captivity and slavery all the days of my life. But when she could prevail no way with me; when she had uttered these foresaid speeches, and many others which were frivolous to rehearse, she left me. Yet, by her means, I had more liberty than before.

* * * * *

After this, I was set to saw boards and planks; and was commanded to make a carriage for a piece of ordnance. Thus they compelled me to labour daily: which I did the more willingly, because I hoped still to get my liberty thereby in the end.

Then they willed me to shew the fashion of our edge tools, after the English [manner]: which when they saw the fashion; their smiths wrought them very artificially, and gave them very good temper. For these things I was had in more estimation; insomuch that they took off my irons, and let me walk abroad with a Keeper.

[Sidenote: I was made Master of work, wherein I had small skill.]

Then was I commanded by the King to teach the Carpenters to frame a house after the manner of English building: and for that purpose there were sent forth Carpenters and workmen with me to the woods, to fall timber; all which were to do what I appointed, upon the King's commandment. Now I, being Chief Master of the work, appointed out the trees which were very special good timber. In small time, we had finished our frame; which liked the King very well. By this means I had more liberty than before; and was very well intreated.

* * * * *

Yet I was greatly grieved in mind that I could not procure any means
for my liberty; although at that time, I wanted few necessaries.
Yet was I daily devising how I might escape away, for three special
causes:

One was for the special care I had of my salvation: because, as you
have heard, there were many temptations laid before me to draw me
from a Christian to be an abominable idolater.

The second cause was for the love and dutiful allegiance which I owe
to my Prince [_Sovereign_] and natural country.

The third was the regard of the vow which I vowed in matrimony; and
the care of my poore wife and children.

Which causes moved me so much that whereas, by reason of my diligence in these foresaid matters, I [was] walking abroad with my Keeper who, not suspecting me, was not so attentive as before he had been: so soon as our frame was finished, I took opportunity; and, shewing them a clean pair of heels, took my way over the mountains intending to go for Argire [_which was in a north-westerly direction_].

* * * * *

But presently there was a great store of men, both on horseback and on foot: who, being more perfect in the way than I was, quickly overtook me; and carried me back again to Cookooe.

* * * * *

I was presently brought before the King; who asked me Why I ran away?

I told him, To have liberty.

Then he called certain of his servants to him; and commanded them to lay me down at his feet, which four of them did: and laying me flat upon the belly, one of them gave me 75 stripes with a great cudgel, till I was not able to remove out of the place.

Then the King commanded to carry me to prison again: whither two of them carried me and put me in irons, and there left me. Where I remained for the space of two months.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: I was now made a Water-bearer.]

Then was I brought forth of prison, and sent daily to a fountain or well, about half a league from the town, to fetch water with a couple of asses, for the use of the King's House.

Now, in this time, many artificers (as Smiths, Joiners, and Carpenters, and many others) came to me to understand the fashion of many English tools (as plane irons, gouges, chisels and such like); for which they shewed me some favour, and gave me some money.

And when I had gotten a little money, I bestowed it upon apparel, and caused it to be made like to theirs: which I carried secretly, when I went to fetch water, and did hide it in a dry cave under the side of a rock. I bought me likewise a sword and a lance, such as they use to travel with. I also provided a file. All which I laid up with my apparel.

It happened that the King of Abbesse came again to visit the King, and to take counsel about warlike affairs; as usually they did.

Wherefore when they heard of his coming, making great preparation for him; it fell out so that there wanted water in the Offices [_Kitchens &c._], where, in an evening, there was exceeding thunder and rain and lightning; so that there was no man would go for water, but everyone [was] calling for the Englishman.

Then I, which durst say no "Nay!", took the vessels and hung them upon the asses; and so went, through rain and wind and thunder and all, till I came to the well: where I left my asses to wander whither they would, and went to my apparel and with my file cut off my irons, and made me ready in my suit of Moors' clothing, and, with my sword by my side and my lance on my shoulder, took my way once again towards Argire.

And that night I went about 20 miles over rocks and mountains, keeping myself out of beaten ways, casting [_directing_] my way by the moon and stars. When the day began to be light, I lay me down in a brake of thick bushes; and there I slept the most part of the day: and in the evening I began to travel forth on my way.

* * * * *

Now, on the third night, I was to pass a bridge where was continual watch and ward, both day and night; where I must of necessity pass, by reason the river [? _the river Isser_] ran betwixt two mountains: which were so steep that no man can neither go down to enter [the] water, nor yet being in can by any possible means get up on the other side; which river is a great defence to the country.

Where I used no delay, but entered the bridge in the beginning of the night, about nine of the clock, being in great doubt [_fear_] of the Watch. But at the first end of the bridge, I saw no man, until I was happily passed over. Then there came one after me, and asked, Who goes there?

It being somewhat dark, and I in apparel and with my weapons like a Moor; [I] answered boldly, That I was a friend, and told him, I was coming to the Governor to deliver letters from the King. For near the river's side there is a village where dwelleth he who hath charge of the keeping of this passage. Whereby I went onward through the village.

But before I was far passed, I heard horsemen upon the bridge; which asked, Whether any man had passed that night?

The watermen told them, There was one gone, even now, which said, He went to deliver the King's letters to the Officer.

But I thought [it] no time now to hear any more of their talk; but betook me to my heels: and so soon as I was without the town, I went out of the Port way [_the road to Algiers_] into [the] woods; and kept desert ways that night and day following.

And the next night, I came within the liberties of the King of Argire; where I knew the Cabyles [_Kabyles_] could not fetch me back again.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: Many dangerous wild beasts in that country.]

In this order I escaped their hands, by the mighty power of GOD. For understand, in these desert mountains there are all manner of wild beasts, in great number; as lions, bears, wolves of marvellous bigness, apes, wild swine; and also wild horses and asses, with many other hurtful beasts: yet was I never in danger of any of them.

In this country of Cabyles, there are divers kinds of very pure metals, as gold, silver, and lead; and good iron and steel: but they, for want of knowledge and skill, make no use of any metal except iron and steel. Although at such times I have been present, while the Smiths have tried their iron, I have seen, among the dross of the iron, very perfect gold. Which they, perceiving me to behold, were very inquisitive to understand, Whether it were gold, or any other metal of substance?

But I told them, It was but a kind of dross whereof we made colours for painting in England.

They carried me out to the mountains, and shewed me the rocks where they gathered their iron; which rocks had veins of very pure gold. Which I would not reveal to them, but answered as before: because I doubted [_feared_] if the King once knew me to have experience in such mysteries, he would keep me the more straight[ly]; whereby I might have remained in bondage during my life.

* * * * *

Now when I was within the country of Argire, I was out of dangers from the pursuers; and then did I walk by day and kept the common ways.

Where, coming within the view of Argire, upon the way I met a Turk who knew me at the first sight; and demanded, If I had not been captive with such a man?

I said, "Yes."

He then inquired, Whether I went to the city?

I said, "Yes."

Then turned he back, and did accompany me to the city.

When I came there, I would have gone to the English House; but he led me violently to my old Master [p. 372], where I rested me a day and night: my Master not being very earnest, for because, in this time that I was absent [1587-1588], all the English captives were redeemed and sent home.

Wherefore I went to the English Consul, hoping to be presently [_instantly_] delivered: who gave me very good words, but did not shew me that favour which he professed.

I could make some discourse of his unkind dealing with me and others of our countrymen; which I will leave till [a] more fit occasion.

For, understand, that while I was with him, there came a messenger from my old Master, with whom I was before I went to Genoa [_in the previous year, 1587_]; who would have carried me away by force: but I would not go, requesting the Consul to take order for my delivery.

But he persuaded me to go with him, saying, that he would, in time, provide for my liberty.

But by means I would not yield to go to my Master, nor yet the Consul would not take order for me: I was taken by the King's Officers, and put in chains in the King's prison, among other captives.

And at the next setting out of the gallies, I was put to my old occupation; where I remained a galley slave for three years and above after [1588-1592.] In which time, I was eight voyages at sea: and at such times as the gallies lay in harbour, I was imprisoned with the rest of the captives, where our ordinary food was bread and water; and, at some times, as once or twice in a week, a small quantity of sodden wheat.

* * * * *

To conclude, I passed my time in sickness and extreme slavery until, by the help of an honest Merchant [? _Master RICHARD STAPAR, see page 369_; _or rather STAPERS, see Vol. III., page 169_] of this city of London, and having a very fit opportunity by means of certain [of] our English ships which were ready to set sail, bound homeward, upon Christmas Even, being the 24th of December 1592, I came aboard [_at Algiers_] the _Cherubim_ of London; which, weighing anchor, and having a happy gale, arrived in England towards the end of February [1593] following.

* * * * *

Thus have you heard how it hath pleased the Almighty GOD, after many and great miseries, to bring me to the port which I longed greatly to see: beseeching GOD, of his mercy, to prolong the days of our most gracious and renowned Queen; whose fame reacheth far, and whose most happy government is in admiration with foreign Princes.

So wishing all to the glory of GOD, and [the] furtherance of the Gospel, I end.

FINIS.

_The Merchant's Daughter of Bristow_ [Bristol].

[Sidenote: _Ancient Ballads, etc._ in the Library of HENRY HUTH, 1867.]

THE FIRST PART.

BEHOLD the Touchstone of True Love!
MAUDLIN, the Merchant's daughter of Bristow town,
Whose firm affection _nothing_ could move
Such favour bears the Lovely Brown.

A gallant Youth was dwelling by.
Which many years had borne this Maiden great goodwill.
She lovèd him as faithfully:
But all her friends withstood it still.

The young man now, perceiving well
He could not get nor win the favour of her friends;
The force of sorrows to expell,
To view strange countries he intends.

And now to take his last Farewell
Of his True Love, his fair and constant MAUDLIN;
With music sweet, that did excell,
He plays under her window fine.

"Farewell," quoth he, "my own True Love!
Farewell, my dear; and chiefest treasure of my heart!
Through Fortune's spite, that false did prove,
I am inforced from thee to part.

"Into the land of Italy:
There will I waste and weary out my days in woe.
Seeing my True Love is kept from me,
I hold my life a mortal foe."

"Fair Bristow town, therefore adieu!
For Padua must be my habitation now:
Although my Love doth lodge in thee,
To whom alone my heart I vow."

With trickling tears thus did he sing,
With sighs and sobs descending from his heart full sore.
He saith, when he his hands did wring,
"Farewell, sweet Love, for evermore!"

Fair MAUDLIN, from a window high,
Beholds her True Love with his music where he stood;
But not a word she durst reply,
Fearing her parents' angry mood.

In tears she spends the doleful night,
Wishing herself (though naked) with her faithful friend:
She blames her friends, and Fortune's spite;
That wrought their loves such luckless end.

And in her heart she makes a vow
Clean to forsake her country and her kinsfolk all;
And for to follow her True Love now,
To bide all chances that might fall.

The night is gone, and the day is come;
And in the morning very early doth she arise.
She gets her down to the lower room,
Where sundry seamen she espies.

A gallant Master among them all:
The Master of a fair and goodly ship was he;
Which there stood waiting in the hall,
To speak with her father, if it might be.

She kindly takes him by the hand;
"Good Sir," she said, "and would you speak with any here?"
Quoth he, "Fair Maid, therefore I stand."
"Then, gentle Sir, I pray you come near."

Into a pleasant parlour by,
With hand in hand she brings this seaman all alone;
Sighing to him most piteously,
She thus to him did make her moan:

She falls upon her tender knee,
"Good Sir," she said, "now pity you a Maiden's woe!
And prove a faithful friend to me,
That I to you my grief may show."

"Sith you repose such trust," he said,
"To me that am unknown, and eke a stranger here;
Be you assured, proper Maid,
Most faithful still I will appear!"

"I have a brother, Sir," quoth she,
"Whom, as my life, I love and favour tenderly.
In Padua, alas, is he
Full sick, GOD wot; and like to die.

"And fain I would my brother see;
But that my father will not yield to let me go.
Wherefore, good Sir, be good to me,
And unto me this favour show.

"Some shipboy's garments bring to me,
That I disguised may get away from hence unknown:
And unto sea I'll go with thee,
If thus much friendship may be shown."

"Fair Maid," quoth he, "take here my hand!
I will fulfil each thing that now you desire,
And set you safe in that same land;
And in the place where you require."

Then gives she him a tender kiss;
And saith, "Your servant, gallant Master, I will be!
And prove your faithful friend, for this.
Sweet Master, then forget not me!"

This done, as they had both decreed,
Soon after, early, even before the break of day,
He brings her garments then with speed;
Wherein she doth herself array.

And ere her father did arise,
She meets her Master as he walkèd in the Hall;
She did attend on him likewise,
Even till her father did him call.

But ere the Merchant made an end
Of all those matters to the Master he could say;
His wife came weeping in with speed Saying,
"Our daughter is gone away!"

The Merchant, much amazed in mind,
"Yonder vile wretch enticed away my child," quoth he,
"But well I wot, I shall him find
At Padua in Italy."

With that bespake the Master brave,
"Worshipful Merchant, thither goes this pretty Youth!
And anything that you would have,
He will perform it, and write the truth."

"Sweet Youth," quoth he, "if it be so,
Bear me a letter to the English Merchants there;
And gold on thee I will bestow.
My daughter's welfare I do fear!"

Her mother takes her by the hand,
"Fair Youth," quoth she, "if there thou dost my daughter see,
Let me thereof soon understand:
And there are twenty crowns for thee!"

Thus, through the daughter's strange disguise,
The mother knew not when she spake unto her child.
And after her Master straight she hies,
Taking her leave with countenance mild.

Thus to the sea fair MAUDLIN is gone,
With her gentle Master. GOD send them a merry wind!
Where we awhile must leave them alone,
Till you the Second Part do find.

FINIS.

_The Merchant's Daughter of Bristow_ [Bristol].

THE SECOND PART.

"WELCOME, sweet MAUDLIN, from the sea!
Where bitter storms and cruel tempests did arise:
The pleasant banks of Italy,
We may behold with joyful eyes."

"Thanks, gentle Master," then quoth she,
"A faithful friend in all my sorrows thou hast been.
If fortune once doth smile on me,
My thankful heart shall well be seen!

"Blest be the land that feeds my Love!
Blest be that place whereas he doth abide!
No travail will I stick to prove,
Whereby my goodwill may be tried.

"Now will I walk with joyful heart
To view the town whereas my darling doth remain;
And seek him out in every part,
Until I do his sight attain."

"And I," quoth he, "will not forsake
Sweet M. in all her journeys up and down;
In wealth and woe thy part I'll take,
And bring thee safe to Padua town."

And, after many weary steps,
In Padua they safe arrived at the last.
For very joy, her heart it leaps:
She thinks not on her perils past.

But now, alas, behold the luck!
Her own True Love in woeful prison doth she find:
Which did her heart in pieces pluck,
And grieved her gentle mind.

Condemned he was to die, alas,
Except he would his faith and his religion turn:
But rather than he would go to Mass,
In fiery flames he vowed to burn.

How doth fair MAUDLIN weep and wail:
Her joy is changed to weeping, sorrow, grief, and care.
But nothing can her plaints prevail,
For death alone must be his share.

She walks under the prison walls,
Where her True Love doth lie and languish in distress.
Most woefully for food he calls,
When hunger did his heart oppress.

He sighs, and sobs, and makes great moan.
"Farewell," said he, "sweet England now for ever!
And all my friends that have me known
In Bristow town with wealth and store!

"But most of all, farewell," quoth he,
"My own True Love, sweet M! whom I left behind:
For never more I shall thee see!
Woe to thy father most unkind!

"How well were I, if thou wast here,
With thy fair hands to close up both these wretched eyes!
My torments easy would appear:
My soul with joy should scale the skies."

When M. heard her Lover's moan;
Her eyes with tears, her heart with sorrow filled was.
To speak with him no means was known,
Such grievous doom on him did pass.

Then cast she off her lad's attire;
A Maiden's weed upon her back she seemly set:
To the Judge's house she did enquire,
And there she did a service get.

She did her duty there so well,
And eke so prudently herself she did behave;
With her in love her Master fell.
His servant's favour he doth crave.

"MAUDLIN," quoth he, "my heart's delight!
To whom my heart in firm affection's tied,
Breed not my death through thy despite!
A faithful friend I will be tried.

"Grant me thy love, fair Maid!" quoth he,
"And at my hands desire what thou canst devise,
And I will grant it unto thee,
Whereby thy credit may arise."

"O Sir," she said, "how blest am I,
With such a kind and gentle Master for to meet;
I will not your request deny,
So you will grant what I do seek."

"I have a brother, Sir," she said,
"For his religion is now condemned to die.
In loathsome prison he is laid,
Oppressed with care and misery.

"Grant me my brother's life!" she said,
"And to you my love and liking I will give!"
"That may not be," quoth he, "fair Maid!
Except he turn, he may not live!"

"An English Friar there is," she said,
Of learning great, and of a passing pure life:
Let him be to my brother sent,
And he will finish soon the strife."

Her Master granted this request.
The Mariner in Friar's weeds she doth array:
And to her Love that lay distresst,
She doth a letter straightway convey.

When he had read her gentle lines,
His heavy heart was ravished with inward joy:
Where now she was, full well he finds.
The Friar likewise was not coy;

But did declare to him at large
The enterprise his Love for him had taken in hand.
The young Man did the Friar charge
His Love should straight depart the land.

"Here is no place for her," he said,
"But woeful death and danger of her harmless life.
Professing truth, I was betrayed;
And fearful flames must end our strife.

"For ere I will my faith deny,
And swear myself to follow damnèd Antichrist:
I'll yield my body for to die,
To live in heaven with the Highest."

"O Sir," the gentle Friar said,
"For your sweet Love, recant and save your wishèd life!"
"A woeful match," quoth he, "is made,
Where CHRIST is lost to win a Wife."

When she had wrought all means she might
To save her Friend, and that she saw it would not be:
Then of the Judge, she claimed her right
To die the death as well as he.

"For, look, what faith he doth profess;
In that same faith, be sure that I will live and die!
Then ease us both in our distress,
Let us not live in misery!"

When no persuasion would prevail,
Nor change her mind in anything that she had said:
She was with him condemned to die,
And for them both one fire made.

And arm in arm, most joyfully,
These Lovers twain unto the fire then did go.
The mariners, most faithfully,
Were likewise partners of their woe.

But when the Judges understood
The faithful friendship in them all that did remain,
They saved their lives; and afterward,
To England sent them home again.

Now were their sorrows turned to joy,
And faithful Lovers had now their hearts' desire.
Their pains so well they did employ,
GOD granted what they did require.

And when they were in England come,
And to merry Bristow arrivèd at the last;
Great joy there was of all and some,
That heard the dangers they had past.

Her father, he was dead, GOD wot:
And eke her mother was joyful of her sight;
Their wishes she denièd not,
But wedded them with heart's delight.

Her gentle Master she desired
To be her Father, and at church to give her then.
It was fulfilled, as she required,
Unto the joy of all good men.

FINIS.

Printed at London for William Blackwall
[about 1600].

_Posies for Rings, or Mottoes fit for Presents_, collected by W. P.

[Sidenote: _The Wits Academy, 1677._]